242 
WILD WINGS 
one to approach it, and as for placing a camera at its nest, it 
will seldom go near the nest in the daytime. At times I have 
set the camera and waited for hours for the forlorn hope. 
Once, however, I was successful, and I shall narrate the man¬ 
ner thereof. 
On one of these island sand-bars 1 had discovered the two 
eggs of an Oyster-catcher in a hollow of the sand. We were 
to anchor there overnight, and I was ardent to achieve a 
photographic feat which I believed had never been accom- 
])lished. The only thing to be done that night was to place 
a small pile of driftweed close to the nest, to accustom the birds 
to it. Morning came, clear and hot. First I removed the j^ile, 
placed the camera there upon the carrying-case, and carefully 
focused it on the eggs. Then I covered it up with the cloth 
and with the debris, trying to make everything look about 
as before. Two hundred jDaces away was a great drift-log of 
pine. My long spool of thread, attached to the ready shutter, 
would just reach it. We dug out a slight hollow in the sand 
close alongside of the log and behind it, in which I lay flat, 
my head raised on my large camera so that I could just peer 
over the log. I had on a brown hunting suit, matching well 
with the bark, and my companions, bes]:)rinkling me with 
sand to heighten the deception, left me and embarked upon 
the vacht, as though the whole party had gone. In one hand 
I held my opera-glasses ; the thread was handy, and 1 began 
mv vigil of broiling on the blistering sand under the brazen 
Southern skv. 
The decejotion was complete. The birds saw the party off 
in approved ovster-catcher stvle, and then, relieved of all 
anxietv, settled down to their usual ways of life. They fed 
along the beach a bit, l)nt breakfast had already been served, 
and they were not hungrv. Soon thev trotted u]d on the dry 
sand and took their station about thirty yards from me. They 
