240 WILD WINGS 



Southern shores and summer sands. Hence there is no 

 secluded sea-beach or marsh from Texas to the polar sea 

 but what may provide for the bird-lover or sportsman the 

 exhilaration of the mellow, piping whistle of some shore- 

 bird voice and the sight of nimble forms racing with the 

 waves, or, on quick-beating wings, circling out over the 

 water. To me such a shore is a hundred-fold more interest- 

 ing than those which man has preempted with his tinsel 

 hotels and their accessories. The margin of the sea with 

 real shore-bird possibilities is a distinct type of its own ; 

 I can tell it at a glance, and often travel far to enjoy it. 

 To the shipwrecked mariner it is a cruel desolation, but to me 

 it is an inspiration and delight. To find it in all its varieties 

 I have journeyed to the north where chilling winds and ice- 

 cold waves lashed the stern profile of the land, and wandered 

 south where soft zephyrs and tepid waters offered their blan- 

 dishments. 



One of the loiterers which has particularly interested me is 

 the American Oyster-catcher. It is a striking species, nearly 

 as large as a crow, indeed, it is sometimes locally called 

 " Sea-crow," with conspicuous black and white plumage 

 and a large, red, knife-shaped bill. I have seen it at its best 

 on the outer Sea Islands of the Carolina coast. There it is 

 found on nearly every lonely beach with its area of shells, 

 seaweed, and dry sand above the reach of the tide. Especially 

 dear to it are the tiny islands which at high water are nothing 

 but narrow strips of hummocky sand, almost washed over 

 by the waves in ordinary times, and inevitably in storms. 

 Late in April, or in early May, the female scratches a hollow 

 on the highest mound of sand and deposits large spotted 

 e g" s n t four, as do most shore-birds, but only two, like 

 the buzzards that wheel overhead, or the Red-tailed Hawk 

 that nests back in the forest. 



