The Music of the Marsh 



of gravest importance, is a loud, iiKJurnful wail, 

 resembling the sobbing" of a November wind 

 among the pines. Like the killdeer's note, it is The 

 so tinged with i^arental ccnicern that, being heard Whisthng 



. , ■ . . . ... Plover 



by huntuig 2)arties coming m at night, it causes 

 an involuntary shudder. When disturbed in 

 brooding, the female screams lustily, much like a 

 half dozen other marsh birds; and her mate an- 

 swers from afar ^\ith a strident insistence that 

 might be interpreted as an effort to encourage her 

 to remain on her nest. lie thrashes among the 

 grass and rushes, and makes a big demonstration, 

 but it ends at that, for he keej)s his distance. 



When brooding is over and flocks of plover 

 are caring for and pleasuring witli their young, 

 they have a grand concert that is delightful and 

 alluring. They congregate around the mouth of 

 some small creek that empties into the marsh, skim- 

 ming lo^v over the water and hunting food close 

 the roots of the marsh weeds and flowers. This 

 is real plover music. Then the peeping and cheep- 

 ing of the young and the chatter and chirp of the 

 old ones resemble in volume the vocalizing of 

 ducks. Their notes grow clearer and sweeter, more 

 nearly like those of a songbird. 



They are small, plump-breasted, friendly 

 bodies, tliat in dry weather go tilting over rotten 

 logs, and with sharp, dainty bills probe the moss 

 for worms. Four in a row tliey line up and watch 



365 



