AMONG THE BIRDS IN WINTER. 281 



the night. His relation, the Woodcock, is of a 

 more wandering disposition, and it is only by 

 the greatest good fortune we are favoured with 

 a glimpse of him as he darts in erratic course 

 amongst the trees. It is very remarkable how 

 solitary the Snipes and Woodcocks are in their 

 habits. None of them are gregarious or even 

 sociable. You may flush scores of Snipes from 

 a single marsh, yet every one of them lives 

 there by itself, and manifests no interest in the 

 doings of its neighbours. This habit is all the 

 more extraordinary when we remember that the 

 Snipes are a little group of the important family 

 of Charadriidae perhaps the most gregarious 

 and sociable of birds. 



Bird life on the shore is little changed by 

 winter's advent. True, we miss the graceful 

 Terns, sporting fairy-like above the summer 

 sea ; but their place is taken by countless other 

 birds that make our coasts their winter quarters 

 when their home in the Arctic regions is unin- 

 habitable. Vast flocks of Ducks and Geese 

 haunt the water, and countless hordes of Sand- 

 pipers, Curlews, and Plovers trip along the 

 muddy and sandy shores, following the ebbing 

 tide, and sleeping or preening their plumage 

 during high water, waiting till their feeding grounds 

 are again uncovered. Moorhens and Coots con- 

 gregate on the salt water broads and the estuaries, 

 leaving the inland pools as soon as the frost 

 becomes severe. Grebes often mingle with them. 



