THE AMERICAN GOLDEN PLOVER 81 
beetleheads than I have seen of Goldens in all 
my life. 
The Golden Plover feeds in the fields and 
highland pastures, haunting much the same 
ground as the upland plover, living upon slugs, 
beetles, earthworms and grasshoppers, nor 
passing by the sweet berries of the fields. In the 
West they tell us stories of these birds follow- 
ing the plow when the farmer turns up the soil 
of the prairies, and of their coming so close 
that the ploughman knocks them over with his 
whip as they curl and wheel about his head. 
This sounds like a—well, a ‘‘fairy tale,’’ to the 
eastern gunner, at any rate most of our sports- 
men are satisfied to hunt Golden Plovers with 
a hard-hitting, close-shooting shotgun. 
During the migration fair shooting is some- 
times to be had at Goldens in our island fields, 
when the gunner, putting out decoys and be- 
ing well hidden, calls the passing flocks. They 
rarely refuse to come to these false friends, 
not once only but even returning for the sec- 
ond discharge, unwilling to desert a comrade 
in distress. Of course no such bags are made 
here as in their western ranges. If the sports- 
man comes suddenly upon a single bird it will 
