98 THE CLERK OF THE WOODS 



eyeing his motions my glass falls unexpect- 

 edly on two sandpipers near him in the 

 grass; pectoral sandpipers grass-birds 

 I soon say to myself, with acute satisfac- 

 tion. It is many years since I saw one. How 

 small their heads look, in contrast with 

 the plover's, and how thickly and finely 

 their breasts are streaked ! I remember the 

 portrait in Nelson's " Birds of Alaska," with 

 its inflated throat, a monstrous vocal sac, 

 half as large as the bird itself. A graceful 

 wooer! 



They, too, are finding the tide a trouble, 

 and no doubt are wishing the human in- 

 truder would take himself off. Now, in 

 spite of my presence, one of them follows 

 the other toward the land, scurrying from 

 one bit of tussock to another, half wading, 

 half swimming. Time and tide wait for no 

 bird. Both they and the plover have given 

 up all thoughts of eating. They have enough 

 to do to keep their eyes upon me and the 

 water. 



The sandpipers, being smaller, make their 

 retreat first. One, as he finds himself so 

 near a stranger, is smitten with sudden 



