286 AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 
been about. As she walked about my hiding place, I could often have 
reached out and touched her; it seemed strange to be so near an un- 
restrained, wild bird; I could even see the changing expressions in her 
eyes. 
Invariably, when returning to the nest, she would feel of all the eggs 
with her bill, then carefully step on or between them , spread her feathers 
and settle down to her task. When sitting, her wings were drooped so 
as to rest on the ground, and her head was usually drawn well down on 
the shoulders. She seemed to be interested in all that transpired about 
her, watching the small birds as they flitted through the pines, and 
twisting her head way around to see every bird that flew overhead. 
Twice I had an opportunity to watch her when some one was approach- 
ing. She saw a man coming through the trees even before I heard 
him; her feathers drew closer to her sides and she became as motion- 
less as the stone beside her, in fact she resembled this stone so much 
that there was little danger of her being discovered. When the man 
had come to within about twenty yards she very carefully slipped from 
the eggs and ran, or rather sneaked through the grass, to a distance of 
perhaps thirty feet from the nest, and hid behind a larger stone. The 
man passed within a few feet of me but did not notice anything and 
was soon lost to View. The Sandpiper came leisurely back, stopping 
several times to pick up insects. The next time we were disturbed we 
did not escape so easily. A man approached from the rear so that Mrs. 
Sandpiper could not see him and stayed on the nest; on he came, lum- 
bering over all the bushes in the way, turning out for nothing, and I 
was forced to rise up and stop him as he was about to clamber through 
my ambush. He started back as though he had seen a ghost, with a 
"Wall I swan! I never seed yer!" Of course I was obliged to explain 
that I was making photographs, but I did not tell him what of, and he 
did not see the nest or the bird which, being frightened, was running 
away with a "broken" leg and wing, and piping loudly. 
About every fifteen minutes, while I was watching her, she would 
half rise and tread with her feet until she had turned every egg over; 
she always turned them over, also, after having been away feeding for 
a short time. 
Quite often she would answer the male birds as they called to each 
other or to their mates, from down at the pond. It sounded alarmingly 
loud and clear to hear her call, at such a short distance. Always when 
returning to the nest, she would utter low sweet whistles in varying but 
very clear tones. Just once I heard her, while she was on the nest, 
give a series of whistles or warbles. She was undoubtedly so happy 
