THE OOLOGIST. 



105 



is as much skill required to suecessf ]ly 

 hunt the Bartramiaa Sand piper succes-.- 

 fully as was ever required to take the 

 snipe, bob white or woodcock. Yes — 

 and far more, for the patience rt quired 

 is out of all proportion to the chances 

 of a decent-sized bag. 



September is the best month to hunt 

 this lively bird, although in many quar- 

 ters where unprotected, the birds are 

 gathered in in August, and even in July 

 and when the immatures are often too 

 young to fully rare f-r themselves. The 

 Upland Plover is found over a wide 

 range of country and has been found 

 breeding from the East to Alaska. It is 

 rare west of the Rockies, and is becom- 

 ing scarce in the east, where a gunner 

 thinks himself in good luck it he bags 

 two or three on a trip. I have hunted 

 this bird in Massachusetts, Michigan 

 and Illinois, and have found it the same 

 elusive, active bird in all sections. 

 Where it is hunted in the East with de- 

 coys it is not a grand success, and while 

 there are about a score of other shore- 

 birds, large and small, which are lured, 

 this plover is not commonly called in on 

 account of its shrewdness and penetra- 

 tion 



Such a thing as a potshot is not known 

 and the chances are even against getting 

 a good sir gle, for the birds are scary 

 and rarely give a better show than at 

 fifty yards. Adding to this that they 

 are vigorous flyers and are capable of 

 carrying off a good sized load apparent- 

 ly, and it will be seen that the Upland 

 Plover or snipe is a difficult bird to cap- 

 ture. 



As a table bird, there are none better, 

 and the delicacy of a bird of the season 

 shot in the autumn U equal to that of 

 anything placed before the banqueter. 

 But let me add, that they should never 

 be hunted in the spring, both from the 

 fact that they lack the layer of fat 

 which adds so largely to the flavor, and 

 as well, it is not consistent to shoot in 

 the spring under any conditions 



Morris Gibbs, M. D , 

 Kalamazoo, Mich. 



A Story of My Life; 

 By Ckondestes grammacus strigatus. 



WM. L. ATKINSON, SANTA CLARA, CAL, 



In the following story I shall en- 

 deavor to record a true history of my 

 life which has been one of trials and 

 tribulations as I think one will admit 

 after having read it. 



My true name is Chondestes gram- 

 macus strigatus but I am perhaps bet- 

 ter known to the inhabitants of this 

 large world as Western Lark Sparrow, 

 I first saw the light of day in a nest on 

 the ground in a large meadow in that 

 beautiful country of California where I 

 was hatched and reared with a brother 

 and two sisters. Those were indeed 

 happy days! My father sitting on a 

 small bush near our home would favor 

 us with many beautiful songs while my 

 mother fed us with the grain, worms 

 and insects which made up our usual 

 meal. 



When we -were able to fly and to 

 partly look after our own well being 

 a happy party we were, flitting around 

 through the hedges and meadows ad- 

 jacent to our home, our ever watchful 

 parents warning us of approaching 

 enemies in time for us to make our es- 

 cape. Here, however, my first great 

 calamity befell me. One day we were 

 all feeding along a roadside when a boy 

 with a long destroyer which made a 

 great noise killed my father, brother 

 and sisters, and injured my mother so 

 severely that she could not fly and was 

 captured and killed by a dog. I was 

 also wounded, being shot in the leg, 

 and although I escaped and soon re- 

 covered sufficiently to walk, I have 

 never regained full use of that leg. 



After the loss of my family I was 

 very lonesome and wished a great many 

 times that I had been destroyed with 

 them. However, I soon fell in with a 

 family party of relatives, Spizella so- 

 cialis, and when I had told them my 

 troubles they invited me to join them. 



