THE WINTER YELLOW-LEGS 183 
as too often happens, the birds are allowed to 
settle in among the decoys and feed while the 
‘‘sportsman’’ waits until a number are bunched 
along the muddy shore of the pool where a rak- 
ing shot with the first barrel shall make sure of 
a bagful to display to admirers at home. The 
average marsh bird is confiding and trustful in 
disposition and so readily induced to give the 
shooter a chance that there is really no excuse 
for such a custom as this. Let one of the whole 
long-legged race come within hearing of a 
plover call and the rest of the story lies alto- 
gether with the gun artist. Of course now and 
then there is a shore bird shooter with loftier 
ambitions. Such a one may graduate into the 
higher schools of upland gunnery, and for him 
these furnish good practice for the making of a 
wing shot. 
The ‘‘Winter Yellow-leg,’’ so called in dis- 
tinction from the smaller ‘‘Summer,’’ is not a 
true plover, nor is the latter, both belonging to 
the Tattler family, a group more nearly related 
to the snipes. The kinship is plainly indicated 
by the bill, long, and somewhat sensitive at the 
tip, as in Wilson’s snipe, but in the northeast 
hardly one gunner in a hundred ever thinks of 
