A Pair of Killdeer 



BY MRS. HENRY W. NELSON 



ARLY in June, 1899, I was driving in a park in western 

 New York, when my attention was drawn to a pair of 

 strange birds, who circled round the carriage, sweeping 

 down near the ground and rising again with anxious, 

 distressed cries. They were beautiful birds, strikingly- 

 marked, with white foreheads, and rings around the throat — about 

 the size of a light-bodied Pigeon, and with long legs. Presently my 

 eye caught a movement on the ground, and I saw what looked like a. 

 little chicken running along at full speed. I was out of the carriage 

 in a moment, and gave chase ; the big birds were evidently the 

 parents, and in great anxiety as to my intentions. I easily overtook 

 the little runner, though I had to walk fast to do it, and then down 

 he dropped on the ground, seemingly quite exhausted. I was filled 

 with remorse, for I feared he had been forced to run so fast as to 

 kill him. I gently picked him up, noticed the long legs, the three 

 toes, long, slender bill, and pretty gray and white coloring, and laid 

 him down again, venturing only faintly to hope that the mother's 

 care might revive him. As I retired she came flying up and cuddled 

 down over him, and I left — feeling very brutal. The gardener told 

 rne that the little thing had been hatched only three hours before ! 

 He had watched the old birds, from the time they had laid their 

 eggs on the bare gravel drive without any pretence of a nest, and 

 had moved them — the eggs — close to the edge of the turf, to pre- 

 vent their being crushed by passing vehicles. They were Killdeer, 

 a species of plover uncommon in our neighborhood. He said this 

 pair had bred in the park for three years. The park is upland 

 meadow-land newly planted, with no water near, except a tiny brook, 

 dry in the summer. It seemed a strange place to choose, and the 

 utter publicity of the nest, where the eggs might be crushed by 

 every passing wheel, seemed extraordinary. 



The next day I was out betimes to see what had been the fate of 

 the young bird, and to my great relief he was running about so fast 

 that I did not attempt to pursue him again, but gave all my attention 

 to the parents, and their ruses and maneuvers were fascinating to 

 watch. Flying so close that I could almost touch her, the mother 

 would throw herself on the ground two or three yards in advance, 

 raise and flutter one wing quite helplessly, crying piteously. As I 

 drew near, away she would fly, only to repeat the performance again 

 and again, until she had fairly lured me to a good safe distance from, 

 her offspring, when up she rose and flew far away triumphantly.. 



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