6 THE BIRD WATCHER 
I was here, which was in early June, when things 
were hardly more than beginning. Any one not 
knowing the time of the year—and it is difficult to 
tell in the Shetlands—might expect from the birds’ 
actions and the general appearance of the whole com- 
munity, to find eggs and newly-hatched chicks all 
about ; but all are gone, and the nests now hardly to 
be distinguished from the surrounding heather. A 
few young birds there are, but they are of large size, 
though unable as yet—-or scarcely able—to fly. It is 
the habit of these, when approached, to crouch and 
lie flat along the ground, without making any attempt 
to escape, even allowing themselves to be stroked and 
taken up in the hand. When set down again, how- 
ever, they generally start off running, and often get 
to a great distance before they stop. Young terns 
and young peewits do just the same thing, and it is 
curious that in their manner of thus crouching, before 
the power of flight has been fully gained, they exactly 
resemble the stone-curlew, in which bird the habit is 
permanent, though not, I should say, very frequently 
indulged in after maturity has been reached. As no 
adult gull or peewit crouches in this way, we must 
suppose either that natural selection has infixed a 
certain habit in the young bird, suited to its flightless 
condition, or that in thus acting it reverts to a trick 
of its ancestors, which were presumably, in that case, 
flightless, through life. The clinging of the stone- 
curlew to the early habit seems to support the latter 
supposition, and prima facie it is perhaps more prob- 
