108 OUT WITH THE BIRDS 



flints and bones along the shore at low water 

 told that it was not unknown to the red hunters 

 of earlier times. Now we knew it as the home 

 of some ground squirrels and a retreat for many 

 birds, but it was not till we spent an afternoon 

 in it that we realized its charms. 



Out on the mud and in the shallows reposed 

 the usual noon-time collection of the web-foot 

 tribe. Mallards, teal, spoonbills, and pintails 

 were there sleeping, preening their moulting 

 coats, or tipping up, each to his own habit or 

 inclination. Many waders swelled the ranks of 

 the motley crowd, and a lone bittern, with his 

 eye fastened apparently upon the water, posed 

 like a sentry. For this recluse who loves the 

 shadows of the marsh grass and rushes to come 

 out with the crowd is unusual, but doubtless he 

 had a reason for it. 



But it was not the webbed-footed ones that on 

 this occasion were of most interest to us. Just 

 across a few yards of mud in another arm of the 

 slough was a congregation of less familiar 

 neighbors. These were big, brown marbled 

 godwits. For some reason these birds had made 

 this slough their autumn trysting-place, and 

 now several flocks containing large numbers 



