184 IN BIRD LAND. 
bands, thus early proclaiming the persistence of its 
type. When I set it down — for I had lifted it in 
my hand —it started to run over the soft ground, 
enhancing its speed by flapping its tiny wings. ‘The 
picture was indescribably cunning. ‘The bird was so 
small that it looked like a downy dot scudding over 
the undulations of the ground. Think of a baby 
only about fifteen hours old running away from 
home in that manner! I caught the infantile scape- 
grace and placed it back in its cradle, where it 
remained. During the night there had been a very 
heavy fall of rain, and yet these youngsters, small as 
they were, had not been drowned, having doubtless 
been covered by their parents. At six o’clock in 
the evening they had all left the nest, and, search as 
I would, I could find no clew to their whereabouts, 
though the parent birds were flying and scuttling 
about with loud cries of warning to me to keep my 
distance. Thus it would seem that young plovers, 
like young partridges, grouse, and ducks, leave the 
nest at a very tender age. 
Before closing, I must mention something odd 
that befell a kingfisher’s nest. A year prior I had 
found a nest in a high bank in a sloping field, where 
the water had washed out a deep gully. In passing 
the bank one day I noticed that it had been partly 
broken down; there had been a landslide on a small 
scale, caused by the washing of the heavy spring 
rains. Half way to the top, on a narrow shelf, lay a 
clutch of kingfisher’s eggs, some of them broken by 
the caving of the bank. ‘The landslide had occurred 
