A CALIFORNIA BEACH 



I can say, they may have been "bolters," re- 

 solved upon saving the sanderling nation (one of 

 Gilbert White's words) by hatching a new party. 



Other small birds, semipalmated plovers, for 

 example, while displaying a preference for 

 muddy flats, still frequent the beach with a good 

 degree of regularity. This very morning a flock 

 of four ran before me down the sands for a mile, 

 more or less, keeping about so far in advance, 

 — twelve or fifteen yards, — and picking up 

 their breakfast as they went, the beach being 

 alive with sandhoppers. On my return, an hour 

 later, I overtook them again; but now they had 

 been joined by three least sandpipers, and within 

 five or ten minutes, while I was still watching 

 them, two stray sanderlings attached themselves 

 to the group, the whole nine being sometimes 

 within a circle of a yard in diameter. 



It seems to be characteristic of such diminu- 

 tive travelers, if they become separated from 

 their natural companions, to associate themselves 

 with any little group of other species on which 

 they may happen to stumble. Strange company 

 is better than none, they think, as most of us 

 must have thought before now on a long journey. 

 The nucleus of this particular flock was the four 

 plovers. To my knowledge they had been on the 

 beach quite by themselves for an hour or more. 

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