42 ICE-BOUND ON KOLGUEV 
them running about the tidal creeks till quite the begin- 
ning of June and later, and then off they go, returning 
with their young ones sometimes by the end of July. 
Quick work that, when you consider where they have 
been. 
And not very long ago no one could tell you where 
they nested. Mr. Seebohm and Mr. Harvie-Brown 
found out first, and since that time their eggs have been 
taken nearer home. But never in England. So 
naturally I looked at this little bird with much in- 
terest. 
And we saw many dunlins. The dunlin is another 
of our waders, but it nests with us. They were flying 
up into the air and making a noise, as they slantingly 
descended like big grasshoppers. This is one of their 
courtship practices, and may be compared to the drum- 
ming of snipe. 
The turnstone, too, was here in his lovely nesting 
plumage and his orange-red legs. We do not often 
see him in such fine feathers in this country. A large 
proportion of those we have here in late summer or early 
autumn are young birds with more sober colouring, and 
the old birds then are fading too. For the turnstone 
does not nest with us. It just gives us a look in when 
passing north in May, and then later on its return south. 
This lovely bird has a far more elaborate song than that 
of any other wader I know. You really may call it a 
song—TI put it down at the time as ‘Chéwah, chéwah, 
