BIRDS OF PEASEMARSH 



stead of flying to save their wings for the long 

 fly. In any case, it is on the wing that they 

 bid us good-bye, leaving our meadows silent 

 and lonely. But their haunts in the south will 

 not make them forget their old nesting places. 

 Some bright morning next April we shall hear 

 their cheerful, "Kill-deer, kill-deer," and there 

 they will be, circling about and settling down 

 upon the same old stones and mounds, or 

 hunting their food about the little ponds which 

 melting snow has left in the hollows. 



One June day, we made the discovery that 

 a family of weasels had made their home under 

 the old stone fence on the edge of the pasture. 

 In vain we laid in wait for those crafty enemies 

 of the birds. That night, sleeping in a tent, we 

 were awakened by the Killdeer cry of alarm. 

 Had the weasel crept stealthily upon a young 

 Killdeer sleeping soundly, its head tucked 

 under its wing, on one of the big, flat stones, 

 a favorite resting place? It was impossible to 

 tell what tragedy had been enacted. 



Closely related to the Killdeer and much 



like them, are the Snipes and the Sandpipers, 



that make lonely spots on the beach so full of 



life and cheer. Along the Nottawasaga Bay 



[132] 



