THE TURNSTONE 25 1 



with a sudden quick jerk of the head pushed it off, when it quickly 

 picked up the food which was thus exposed to view, and walked 

 deliberately to the next shell to perform the same operation. In 

 several instances, when the clusters of oyster -shells or clods of 

 mud were too heavy to be removed in the ordinary way, they would 

 not only use the bill and head, but also the breast, pushing the 

 object with all their strength, and reminding. me of the labour 

 which I have undergone in turning over a large turtle. Among the 

 seaweeds that had been cast on shore, they used only the bill, 

 tossing the garbage from side to side with a dexterity extremely 

 pleasant to behold. 1 In like manner I saw there four Turnstones 

 examine almost every part of the shore along a space of from thirty 

 to forty yards ; after which I drove them away, that our hunters 

 might not kill them on their return." 



A writer in the Zoologist 2 gives an equally interesting account 

 of the successful efforts of two Turnstones to turn over the dead 

 body of a cod-fish, nearly three and a half feet long, which had 

 been imbedded in the sand to about the depth of two inches. 



For an account of the habits of the Turnstone during the 

 breeding season — it never breeds with us — we are indebted to Mr. 

 Hewitson, who fell in with it on the coast of Norway. He says, 

 ' We had visited numerous islands with little encouragement, and 

 were about to land upon a flat rock, bare, except where here and 

 there grew tufts of grass or stunted juniper clinging to its surface, 

 when our attention was attracted by the singular cry of a Turnstone, 

 which in its eager watch had seen our approach, and perched itself 

 upon an eminence of the rock, assuring us, by its querulous oft- 

 repeated note and anxious motions, that its nest was there. We 

 remained in the boat a short time, until we had watched it behind 

 a tuft of grass, near which, after a minute search, we succeeded in 

 finding the nest in a situation in which I should never have expected 

 to meet a bird of this sort breeding ; it was placed against a ledge 

 of the rock, and consisted of nothing more than the dropping leaves 

 of the juniper bush, under a creeping branch of which the eggs, 

 four in number, were snugly concealed, and admirably sheltered 

 from the many storms by which these bleak and exposed rocks are 

 visited. 



1 From this habit, the Turnstone is in Norfolk called a ' Tangie-picker '.— 

 C. A. J. 



1 Vol. ix. p. 3077. 



