FIELD-DAYS IN CALIFORNIA 



feet from where I stood; and there, directly 

 under my eye, between me and the yellow-legs, 

 in open space, stood a splendid black-bellied 

 plover in elegant plumage, the lower parts from 

 the chin downward jet-black. 



Through the field-glass the big fellow was 

 almost in my hand, the second of its kind that 

 I had ever seen in Santa Barbara, and as well 

 as I could remember, the only one I had ever 

 seen anywhere in adult summer dress, the very 

 great majority of autumnal "beetle-heads," as 

 gunners call them, having the lower parts white, 

 and the upper parts largely gray, whence an- 

 other of their common names, the " gray plover." 

 Indeed, I believe it is true that the birds put on 

 their summer garb so late and take it off so 

 early that specimens in really perfect plumage — 

 which even my bird could not be said to wear — 

 are almost never seen so far south as any part of 

 the United States. 



The thing was like a miracle. A moment ago 

 he was not there. I had not seen him arrive, 

 large as he was and so near. I had not moved or 

 turned away my head ; there was no cover from 

 behind which he could have stepped into sight ; 

 and now there he stood, there on a narrow neck 

 of land, perfectly secure, had he but known it, 

 but by no means insensible. His bearing and 

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