250 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



here — is no safeguard against intrusion, but rather, if anything, 

 the exact opposite, for it seems to linger in the memory of the 

 birdnesting boy, with the result that every tin can, kettle, and 

 empty shell is zealously turned over and examined, when the 

 Wheateav's treasure is very often found. Though the first nest 

 be taken, it is not uncommon to find the same site occupied again 

 for the second lay. I came across a nest on the " Lydd Beach," 

 this summer, under a turned-over pig-trough. The hole by which 

 the bird gained access to its nest was no larger than that of a 

 mouse. Another was found in an empty four-pounder shell — a 

 good example truly of " peace and war." The crevices in the 

 gabion casemates here are also frequently chosen. Again, it is not 

 unusual here to find the Wheatear's nest in a depression on the 

 bare beach. In a case like this, dry grass alone is used, the nest 

 resembling then a large edition of the Lark's. The normal 

 feather-lining is absent, and in this way conspicuousness is 

 nicely avoided. If not disturbed, I fancy the Wheatear returns 

 annually to the same nesting-site. 



The Kinged Plover breeds on the "Lydd Beach" in fair 

 numbers, and seems to be the least affected of its genus by the 

 artillery practice. These noisy little birds course over the beach 

 all day long, uttering their whistling cries. Even the Skylarks of 

 the locality have caught their plaintive notes, and they produce 

 them amongst their own with startling exactitude. * 



Four pairs of Kentish Plover bred on the beach not very far 

 from Dungeness Lighthouse. The nest of this species is, to my 

 mind, by far the most difficult to find of all the Plovers. The 

 bird seldom makes any demonstration in the way of a call-note ; 

 it creeps away like a mouse through the dry beach-grass, which it 

 resembles so closely in colour. To lie down flat on the beach, 

 armed with a good pair of glasses, is the only chance of success, 

 and then one may be rewarded by seeing a little brown thing 

 wending its way back to its nest, stopping now and again, and 

 when in close proximity to its treasure standing motionless for 

 many minutes together. When the eggs are hatched the bird is 

 even still more wary. It often drops the food close to the young 

 without even alighting. I have found that the male alone of this 

 species undertakes the task of incubation. 



* See Witchell, k Evolution of Bird Song,' 189G, p. 209. 



