The Dotterel of the High Tops 



plateau. Snowfields still lingered here, and little growth 

 was as yet apparent amongst the Alpine plants, although 

 the willow of the high hills — Salix herhacea — was already 

 opening its minute green leaves where the snow had gone. 

 A chill wind blew across from the snow-filled corrie to the 

 south, and in the soft evening light the plateau bore a 

 strangely remote and desolate aspect, but one of a peculiar 

 grandeur. 



After searching some likely-looking ground for awhile, 

 with, I must confess, little hope of success, I was delighted 

 to see a dotterel rise just ahead of us and flutter away a few 

 yards in characteristic manner. A short search revealed the 

 nest, a shallow depression scraped out in a tuft of wiry hill 

 grass, and lined with dried leaves — the previous season's — 

 of the Alpine willow. In the nest were three beautifully 

 marked eggs which, on being tested in some running water 

 near, showed that they had been brooded for some days at 

 least. 



The following morning we again visited the plateau. 

 Though the sun shone brightly, a strong cold wind swept 

 across from the south. It was hoped on this occasion to set 

 up a hiding-tent, but the force of the wind was such that 

 the idea had to be abandoned. 



The dotterel left the nest when we were still some distance 

 away, running rapidly ahead of us. We remained silently 

 near, and it was not long before he — it is, as I have said, the 

 male dotterel who incubates the eggs — came running back in 

 fast spurts, from time to time stopping an instant to pick up 

 a spider or a beetle. The wind was now blowing in fierce 

 squalls, so that he had more than once to stop and hurriedly 

 face the blast, which he did in a half-crouching, tense atti- 

 tude. On one occasion he twice attempted to pick up a beetle 

 sideways, but each time was blown away and was obliged 

 to turn half about and make a frontal attack on his prey. 

 On the opposite slope his mate was calling from time to time 

 with soft whistling cries, and once she passed over with 



107 



