BY BRACKISH POOL AND ODOROUS STREAM. 63 
We will follow first a certain Sussex streamlet, which, permeated by the 
refuse of a tan-yard through which it passes, flows after many windings into 
a well-known estuary of the sea. It is an ideal haunt of Sandpipers. The 
banks, smothered with vegetation and dotted with tall bushes and an 
occasional willow, slope sharply down on either side, at times overhanging 
the red-brown stream beneath. The water is crossed at intervals by con- 
venient resting places in the shape of wooden rails, and at low tide miniature 
mudflats are exposed to view, the stench being then unbearable—z.e., to human 
nostrils, for Sandpipers seem to revel in it. It is clear that snap shots will 
SETTLING DOWN FOR THE DUCK, 
be the order of the day, and as we reach the second corner there is a sharp 
shriek, the flash of a white rump between the branches of a_ willow, 
and almost before the gun can reach the shoulder a Green Sandpiper has 
mounted to the skies. We know that it is a “‘Green” and not a “Common” 
Sandpiper by the momentary vision of the white rump—that conspicuous 
ornament which distinguishes afar many a rare bird from some similar but 
commoner species. A white rump may indeed be regarded as the hall-mark 
of avine gentility. To the novice, who scans the flocks of Chaffinches 
amongst the snow-covered fields, it is this that betrays the long-sought 
Brambling. By its aid we can tell at a glance that a Sandpiper is not a 
Common one, and on the shore it is always welcome among the smaller 
