CHAP. viii. SHOOTS THE LITTLE STINT. 143 



I rushed breathless, hoping to pick up the bird in 

 which I took such interest. But, alas ! no. It was 

 not there. Away went the remaining birds to the 

 sea ; then turning, they rounded a point or headland 

 called Blackpots, and disappeared from view. From 

 this and from their not returning, I knew that they had 

 gone to the sands at "Whitehills, about three miles dis- 

 tant, to which place I proceeded. But no sooner had 

 I reached there, than back they flew in the. direction 

 from which they had come. Back I went also, and 

 found them at the old place. 



"Just as I reached them, away they flew once 

 more, and of course away I went likewise. In this 

 way we continued nearly the whole day, they flying 

 to and fro, I following them. Towards evening, my 

 strength beginning to fail, and feeling quite exhausted, 

 I gave up the chase, and once more took up my 

 abode amongst the shingle, in the hope that they 

 might again return there for the night. Just as 

 I wished and expected, and while it was yet light, 

 they came and alighted about thirty yards from where 

 I lay. Away went fatigue, hunger, and thoughts of 

 home ! In fact, the sight of this object of my day and 

 night's solicitude made me a new creature. Off went 

 the messengers of death. Two of the birds fell ; the 

 rest fled once more to the sea. I followed, but had 

 not proceeded far when I observed one falter. Leav- 

 ing its companions, it bent its course towards where 

 I stood, and suddenly dropped almost at my feet As 



