Wanderings of a Naturalist 



frequent this estuary. To-day not a single one is to be 

 seen. 



Many shore birds are feeding this morning on the flats, 

 and the flowing tide moves them up to my place of conceal- 

 ment, so that I have an excellent view of them in the clear 

 sunlit air. At the water's edge godwit run actively about, 

 thrusting their bills repeatedly into the muddy water as they 

 feed. The godwit is always full of restless energy at its feed- 

 ing ground, and quite unlike its larger and extremely 

 deliberate relative, the curlew. With the godwit are numbers 

 of dunlin and a few knot. As the tide encroaches too near 

 the edge of the flats the godwit and knot fly off, and perform 

 wonderful evolutions overhead, swerving and wheeling, and 

 as they make a sudden sweep, the sun transforms their 

 plumage to silver as though by magic. Now they race down 

 wind at express speed, now hover against the breeze, each 

 bird keeping perfect station. The grey plover and dunlin 

 seem for some reason to feed on till nearer full tide than the 

 knot and godwit, and as they are forced nearer the shore my 

 glass brings them very close. The grey plover are still in 

 their winter plumage. There is as yet scarcely a suspicion 

 of the handsome black breast which renders this bird so con- 

 spicuous during its nesting season in the Arctic, nor have the 

 dunlin commenced to assume their summer dress. The 

 plover stalk warily around, their movements, deliberate and 

 graceful, being in striking contrast to the fevered activity of 

 the tribe of the dunlin. 



From time to time one of the plover captures a marine 

 worm, dragging it from its lair in triumph and proceeding to 

 enjoy its succulence. Shelduck are courting on the sands 

 near me, performing ludicrous antics in their excitement as 

 they pursue each other with necks outstretched to their fullest 

 capacity and heads almost touching the ground. 



On high many larks are in song, and a redshank from the 

 boggy field, where it will presently nest, flies up into the 

 air and sinks again on drooping wings, all the while uttering 



'4 



