THE PEEWIT OR PI WIPE 277 



brave birds sit upon the lonely marshes through the night- 

 watches, regardless of the cruel and fierce rats and ruth- 

 less weasels and stoats that are breeding near by, and who 

 often rob their eggs and young, if they do not eat the 

 mother herself. And yet the birds sit on through darkness 

 unprotected, merely obeying an instinct stronger than fear. 

 Having made our mark, after the manner of the fenmen, we 

 run up and flush her. She rises again, and flies lapping off, 

 silent as death, striking away over the water again ; and 

 after a little search we find the nest, lined with rush and 

 broad-leaved grass, upon which lie two eggs, heavy and 

 sweet and fresh, as the water-test in the nearest dike 

 proves. And we will leave them, for they are not so good 

 to eat as a fresh hen's egg, and chance the old Kentish 

 crows sucking them, as they often do, as well as eating 

 the young peewits when they can catch them. But see, here 

 comes the excited cock again, tumbling about, and thrash- 

 ing the air with his wings, and, till he is about to fly up, 

 there he goes into the open, twisting, and turning, and 

 shrieking his dull refrain, " Three bullocks a week week 

 arter week week arter week." 



And so these birds lay on, if robbed, unto their clutches of 

 four eggs each, or a round dozen per bird, laying as late as 

 harvest-time ; for they must have a young brood if possible. 

 But they leave the place their early nests are robbed in, and 

 go moving from marsh to marsh at each new loss of embryo ; 

 and so regular is this retirement before the eggers, that the 

 experienced say, " Ah ! well, they'll be inter our marsh next, 

 directly they're robbed over yonder." But this egging has 

 sadly thinned their numbers ; and instead of being able to 

 find two dozen nests of a morning, as was formerly com- 

 mon, we may be lucky to find one in many a marsh. And 

 when the young are hatched, the family seeks a slad or 

 soft marsh where the water lies, or the ronds by the mere- 

 side, where they lead their young, decoying them by cries, 

 as do the red-shanks, but seldom making much of a journey, 



