242 WILD WINGS 



one to approach it, and as for placing a camera at its nest, it 

 will seldom go near the nest in the daytime. At times I have 

 set the camera and waited for hours for the forlorn hope. 

 Once, however, I was successful, and I shall narrate the man- 

 ner thereof. 



On one of these island sand-bars I had discovered the two 

 eggs of an Oyster-catcher in a hollow of the sand. We were 

 to anchor there overnight, and I was ardent to achieve a 

 photographic feat which I believed had never been accom- 

 plished. The only thing to be done that night was to place 

 a small pile of driftweed close to the nest, to accustom the birds 

 to it. Morning came, clear and hot. First I removed the pile, 

 placed the camera there upon the carrying-case, and carefully 

 focused it on the eggs. Then I covered it up with the cloth 

 and with the debris, trying to make everything look about 

 as before. Two hundred paces away was a great drift-log of 

 pine. My long spool of thread, attached to the ready shutter, 

 would just reach it. We dug out a slight hollow in the sand 

 close alongside of the log and behind it, in which I lay flat, 

 my head raised on my large camera so that I could just peer 

 over the log. I had on a brown hunting suit, matching well 

 with the bark, and my companions, besprinkling me with 

 sand to heighten the deception, left me and embarked upon 

 the yacht, as though the whole party had gone. In one hand 

 I held my opera-glasses ; the thread was handy, and I began 

 my vigil of broiling on the blistering sand under the brazen 

 Southern sky. 



The deception was complete. The birds saw the party off 

 in approved oyster-catcher style, and then, relieved of all 

 anxiety, settled down to their usual ways of life. They fed 

 along the beach a bit, but breakfast had already been served, 

 and they were not hungry. Soon they trotted up on the dry 

 sand and took their station about thirty yards from me. They 



