NORTHWARD WITH THE SHORE-BIRDS 231 



of most other shore-birds, for the snipe is classed among 

 shore-birds, or Limicolae. The date was the eighteenth of 

 June. 



After duly photographing the nest and eggs, both snipes 

 meanwhile flying excitedly about overhead, I prepared the 

 camera for a possible picture of the mother snipe upon the 

 nest at close range. When all was ready, the camera being 

 set upon the ground only a yard from the nest, I laid the 

 line of connecting thread clear across the bayou, where I hid 

 under some low spruces to watch. One snipe only seemed to 

 be flying about, and there was no way of telling whether the 

 other had returned to the nest but to creep up and look. 

 Before doing this, however, I rejoined the party who were 

 eating lunch up on a sand-dune. After nearly an hour's 

 absence, I crept silently to my spool and pulled at a venture, 

 not knowing whether or not the bird was on the nest. As 

 the sky was somewhat overcast, I had set the shutter for one 

 second, trusting that the snipe might be dozing on the nest 

 and would not move. Then I silently tiptoed over to where I 

 could learn my fate. There was the blessed snipe at her vigil, 

 facing the camera, head low and bill resting on the ground. 



She made no move to start till I was within ten feet of her, 

 when she fluttered reluctantly away and dropped down on 

 the bank close at hand, beside a spruce thicket, where she 

 lay flapping her wings much as does a nighthawk under 

 similar circumstances, reiterating the familiar " scaip " note, 

 that every gunner knows. Then for half a minute she lay 

 still, as though dead, but soon stood up, ran a little way, and 

 flew quickly off. So tame was she that she returned to the 

 nest in my very presence, before I was ready for the next 

 shot. Driving her off, I set the shutter again and took my 

 station under a spruce about twenty feet away. In just four 

 minutes I saw her alight near by, and in another minute she 



