Shore-bird Shooting 361 



the flight is along the outer beach, at the edge of 

 the surf, the birds stopping to feed on the mud 

 flats exposed by the falling tide. The sun was 

 not up and the water still high as we set the 

 decoys off one of the points along the beach, close 

 to the breaking waves ; the blind was of seaweed, 

 and before we were settled the first flock passed 

 by high up, but a pair of birds dropped out of it 

 and hovered in front of us ; another minute and 

 ten more swung in. Flock after flock, from a few 

 birds to hundreds, passed in the same line, coming 

 into sight over the ocean, striking the beach and 

 following its edge, — now low just over the surf, 

 now high up, — the first light of sunrise giving 

 them a black appearance. The undulating char- 

 acter of the flight was unmistakable and was in 

 evidence when the dark line first appeared — now 

 distinct on the horizon, presently out of sight in 

 the waves, all of a sudden rising up over the 

 decoys to circle in. Our chance lasted only a 

 few minutes, for when the flat was exposed the 

 birds all passed by out of range ; occasionally we 

 whistled in an odd one, but the flocks shied off. 

 As we carried back our basket of birds it did not 

 occur to us that the experience of that morning 

 would be our last flight of redbreast, but it was. 



Since the spring of 1898 this bird has decreased 

 remarkably along the Atlantic Coast, and, with the 

 present ravages of spring shooting in Virginia and 



