Sbore-hird Sboofing 305 



With dovelike speed they come, when just at the 

 edge of the stool the wings droop — the birds 

 sail on set wings for a second, then light ; in- 

 stantly suspicious, they run a few steps and leave 

 as quickly as they came. You hear the shrill, 

 sweet note, faint and far off; it answers your 

 clumsy attempt to whistle, and in a minute the 

 graceful birds hover at the mercy of the gun. 

 Occasionally the mellow note of a yellowleg 

 announces a different visitor. Yellowleg were 

 not very abundant at Monomoy, but we usually 

 gathered in a few. Their flight lacks the speed 

 of a plover, and they sail along calling frequently, 

 asking for a place to light ; unfortunately places 

 were plenty. Rarely dowitchers were in evidence ; 

 they came singly and in small flocks, and the lit- 

 tle compact bunch generally accepted the invita- 

 tion to tarry; once shot into and a few birds 

 downed, the others heard their cries, and came 

 again. For two or three days after a heavy 

 storm there was quite a flight of redbreast ; one 

 afternoon a pair of curlew circled over the decoys 

 too close ; these were the first I had seen. I re- 

 member a good-sized flock of willet, one of the 

 few times I have ever seen them in a flock ; they 

 came by a good way off and parted with a single 

 bird. This was the run of birds we saw at 

 Monomoy that summer. The shooting generally 

 lasted for over an hour on the ebb-tide. During 



