104 THE ZOOLOGIS'Y. 
The condition of affairs warned us to be off, but another day’s 
search after the nest of T'ringa canutus was decided on. 
On leaving the tent, Parr and I separated. The strong 
breeze seemed to have driven the birds to seek shelter; for 
several hours I wandered without seeing a living creature. 
Towards evening I observed a Glaucous Gull hovering over a 
fresh-water pool some distance inland, and passed a Buffon’s Skua 
feeding on a Lemming; it allowed me to walk within twenty 
paces of it, and then backed away from me, at the same time 
making violent attempts to swallow the Lemming, in which it at 
last succeeded. Whilst walking along some old gravel beaches, 
at a height of some 800 feet above the sea, I saw a Sanderling 
running like a mouse amongst the stones. Throwing myself flat 
on the ground, I watched the bird circling round and round, 
until at last it returned to near the very spot where I had first 
observed it moving. ‘The nesting place was a depression in the 
centre of a plant of Salix arctica, and was lined with a few dried 
leaves and catkins of the plant; the eggs, two in number, may be 
compared to miniature Curlew’s, but the ground colour is not so 
green.* ‘The sitting bird proved on dissection to be the male. 
Late in the evening, whilst returning to camp, I met Parr 
carrying three Brent Geese, who informed me that he had found 
the nest of the Snowy Owls in Hare Ravine; but knowing that I 
should like to see the eggs in situ, he had refrained from touching 
them. It was about 9 p.m. when we retraced our steps to the 
Owl’s nest, which was placed on the summit of a small hill in the 
bottom of the valley; the eggs, seven in number, lay on the 
bare ground in a small depression which had evidently been 
scraped out by the birds. Hiding behind a rock, I waited the 
return of the birds; in about half an hour the larger of the pair 
came hovering over the eggs, and fell to my gun. I drew back 
on the chance of the cock bird coming within range. In a short 
time he came hovering over, crying ‘Whew, whew.” Imagine 
my mortification when the bird I thought dead rose to its feet, 
got the wind under its wings, and sailed away across the 
valley, accompanied by its mate. I started in pursuit, but a 
“stern-chase ” through heavy snow is a long one; and though I 
followed the bird for miles, and often got within a hundred yards, 
* These eggs are figured in the Appendix to Sir George Nares’ ‘ Voyage to the 
Polar Sea,’ vol. ii., p. 210. 
