EE Rene DEE RE O41 
nest becomes a peninsula, then an island, then a smaller island. The thought 
of the little Killdeer mother losing her first family is not comforting. The 
eggs must be near hatching now, but it may take three or four days yet; and 
the water has only a foot to travel vertically. No, those eggs must be saved! 
But how? They cannot be moved across the ground by slow stages, for they 
are already upon the highest point of the island. I have it. The bird must 
travel wp. 
Having first prepared four stout willow stakes, a slab a foot square, and 
some rustic railing, I repair to the island in the canoe. An upturned kettle is 
placed over the eggs to protect them while the stakes are driven, inclining 
outward at the bottom for strength, and the platform nailed on top. Then 
with axe and hunting knife I cut out a deep sod containing the eggs, lift it 
carefully, place it in the receptacle provided above, and retire to a distant bank 
to await the issue. 
Great is the mystification and distress of the parent Killdeers upon finding 
their treasures removed. The little mother 
gazes at the black hole in consternation 
and walks round and round it with pitiful 
cries. She even descends into the cavity, 
but her babies are not there. Then both 
birds sound the alarm and sympathizing 
neighbors rush in with noisy condolences. 
But the bereaved mother resents their of- 
ficiousness and chases each inquiring in- 
truder away from the hole. There is a 
great pow-wow and much teetering, but 
not a bird of them ever thinks of rising 
above the ground to look for a nest. By 
and by the neighbors retire to their own 
preserves, the male bird comes across the 
channel to watch me, and 
the grieving mother wanders 
about — aim- 
lessly on the 
island. 
It is inter- 
esting to ob- 
serve the 
male at this 
juncture, for 
he is seized 
THE THREE-SOD STAGE Photo by the Author. by an idea—a 
