NEST OF THE LITTLE STINT 211 



while, hiding in the cleft of the bank, as I had done on 

 the previous occasion when I had shot the Little stints, 

 but none were to be seen. I then skirted the margin of 

 the bay to its narrow entrance, having spied a grey 

 plover or two, a pair of Arctic terns, and a few herring- 

 gulls. When there, a small number of dunlins passed 

 rapidly overhead, and I repeatedly saw flocks of Little 

 stints. However, these might have been the same flock 

 passing and repassing. They were very wild, and I 

 could not get a shot. Some time before, my companion 

 and I had parted company. We now met at one of the 

 capes at the southern extremity of the high promontory. 

 Cocksure was with him. On comparing notes I found 

 their experience had been much the same as mine, only 

 Cocksure shot a Temminck's stint, near the sandhills. 

 In returning we separated again to cover more ground ; 

 and again when we met, and compared notes, we found 

 that to each the sandhills, the lakes, and the shores had 

 proved a blank, destitute of bird-life. 



We then separated for a stroll on the tundra. I had 

 not gone far before I heard our interpreter Piottuch 

 shouting in a state of great excitement. Harvie-Brown 

 was the first to come up ; and I joined them shortly 

 afterwards. I found them sitting on the ground, with 

 a couple of Little stints in down. I sat down beside 

 them, and we watched the parent bird as she was 

 fluttering and flying and running all round us, sometimes 

 coming within a foot of one of us. After securing the 

 old bird we went on a short distance, and Piottuch again 

 made loud demonstrations of delight. This time it was 

 nest and eggs. The nest was like that of most sand- 

 pipers, a mere depression in the ground, with such dead 

 maroskka (cloudberry) leaves and other dry materials as 

 were within easy reach, scraped together to serve as 



