THE STINTS. 253 



of the year, are to be observed near the edge of the mud- 

 flats on our tidal harbours. The food of the species is similar 

 to that of the Dunlins and other small Sandpipers, but Mr. 

 Seebohm says that in summer its food also probably comprises 

 berries and small ground-fruits. 



The same author has given a most interesting account of the 

 taking of the nest of this species, during the expedition to the 

 Lower Petchora made by Mr. J. A. Harvie-Brown and himself. 

 Mr. Seebohm writes: "We had walked on together a short 

 distance, when I heard the now familiar cry of a Little Stint 

 behind me, a sharp wick, almost exactly the same as the cry of 

 the Red-necked Phalarope or that of the Sanderling. Turning 

 quickly round, I saw the bird flying past, as if coming up from 

 its feeding-grounds ; it wheeled round us at some distance and 

 alighted on the ground about eighty yards ahead. We walked 

 slowly up towards it, and stood for some time watching it 

 busily employed in preening its feathers. By-and-bye we sat 

 down. It presently began to run towards us, stopping now 

 and then to preen a feather or two. Then it turned back a 

 few paces, and, lifting its wings, settled down, evidently on its 

 nest. We gave it three minutes' grace, to be quite sure, and 

 then quietly walked up to the place, and sat down, one on each 

 side of the eggs. The bird as quietly slipped off the nest, and 

 began to walk about all round us, now and then pecking on 

 the ground as if feeding, seldom going more than six feet from 

 us, and often approaching within eighteen inches. It was a 

 most interesting and beautiful sight, and the tameness of the 

 bird was almost ludicrous. We chatted and talked, but the 

 bird remained perfectly silent, and did not display the slightest 

 symptom of fear or concern, until I touched the eggs ; she then 

 gave a flutter towards me, apparently to attract my attention. 

 I turned towards her, and she resumed her former unconcern. 

 I stretched my hand towards her, and she quietly retreated, 

 keeping about two feet from my hand. She seemed so ex- 

 tremely tame that I almost thought for the moment that I 

 could catch her, and getting up on all fours, I crept quietly 

 towards her. As soon as I began to move from the nest, her 

 manner entirely changed. She kept about the same distance 

 ahead of me ; but instead of retreating with the utmost 

 apparent nonchalance, she did everything in her power to 



