154 FEATHERED GAME 



ate course long enough to get the material for 

 a "sandpeep pie." Poor little things! For 

 the one mouthful of goodness which makes your 

 small bodies thus must you suffer ! 



Out in the marsh grass when the late sum- 

 mer has come, during the latter half of August, 

 for a short time the flocks of fleet-winged little 

 birds come scurrying in with gentle, flute-like 

 piping, flying in from outer islands and bar- 

 ren ledges where they have rested during the 

 high tide. Now the fast receding water is leav- 

 ing bare the soft black ooze of the " flats," full 

 and overcrowded with snails and tiny marine 

 creatures, a veritable storehouse of good things 

 to be had for the taking. Against the watery 

 background their white bodies gleam an in- 

 stant, and the little fellows show like a thin 

 wreath of spray borne on the wind. As they 

 dart in erratic flight another turn brings the 

 dark backs into view, and next second they 

 are lost as they skim across the patches of 

 grass just beginning to show above the tide. 

 Presently they " pitch" in a sheltered, muddy 

 cove, and in their heedless innocence may have 

 alighted almost at the feet of their enemy. At 

 once they scatter and begin to feed, running 



