April 



at night, and I recall one occasion when, the low 

 meadows about Stretford being flooded for miles and 

 a high moon whitening the thin mist that lay on the 

 water at night, lapwings were astir at midnight, 

 chasing wildly over its surface, their strenuous " pee- 

 wit" sounding eerily as they rose from the mist, 

 and, with a glint of white as their underparts were 

 exposed for a moment to the light of the moon, 

 broke back with tumbling motion and drumming 

 wings over the misty waters. 



There are few more poignant cries than that of 

 the lapwing when its breeding haunt is invaded. At 

 such times, the cock bird, who generally does sentinel 

 duty at some distance from the nest, rises promptly 

 on the wing as soon as the intruder approaches. 

 The hen, taking the signal, runs with lowered head 

 from the nest, and not until she is some distance 

 from it does she rise and join in the wild demonstra- 

 tion of her mate. The cry becomes a long, anxious 

 " Pee-ee ! " as she circles above the intruder, upon 

 whom she will at times all but precipitate herself in 

 her fury, checking her descent when a few yards 

 from his head, to rise and swoop again. The young 

 fall flat by any tuft or clod at the warning note, 

 although, like the young of a nobler species, they 

 soon begin to think that they know better than their 

 elders ; and it is comical to watch a fledgeling appease 

 his conscience and his curiosity at once by alternately 

 ducking down in some ineffectual hollow in the 

 ground, and craning out his small neck to observe 



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