AN ARCADIAN CALENDAR 



Autolycus beak with which it turns the stones and 

 of the debris sheltering sandhoppers and such 



Shore unconsidered trifles. Turnstones know the 



benefit of co-operation when the sea has 

 cast up a large fish too heavy for one to turn. On such 

 occasions some will dig the sand below the fish, while 

 others work to turn it from the other side. In one sports- 

 man's story, a salmon, while being thus overturned, 

 toppled over so suddenly that it imprisoned one 

 of the digging party, on which the sportsman's spaniel 

 of its own accord ran in, rescued the bird, and brought 

 it uninjured to his master. A feeding flock of turnstones 

 makes one of the most amusing bird pictures of the 

 longshore. The way they hunt among the flotsam and 

 jetsam of the sands, the stones, dead fish, driftwood, 

 seaweeds, and shells for their crustacean fare, shrimps 

 and sandhoppers, has been well likened to a man tossing 

 hay. Sometimes all their efforts go to the benefit of 

 others, as some more agile wader darts upon and steals 

 their treasure-trove. 



NOISIEST and wariest of shore-birds is the redshank; 



they say that its shrill and piercing note 

 The may be heard on a still day a mile away, an 



Marsh's alarm well understood by the other waders. 

 Sentry At all seasons these keen sentries greet 



trespassers with wild cries, especially in 

 nesting days, when they circle overhead, or dash down 

 as if to mob the intruder ; very graceful they are as they 

 wheel about, the quivering flight alternating with 

 poising, when they hang on wings pointing stiffly 

 downwards. Like others of its kind, the redshank plays 



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