462 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



note of similar tone, several times repeated, but with well-marked 

 intervals sufficiently long to take away its wailing character. I 

 have not remarked this before. 



September 26th. — Missed my way over moor, and did not get 

 to bank till close on 4. With one doubtful exception, did not 

 put up any Plovers during this wandering, though, as I got far 

 beyond the bank and can only have passed it, as far as I can see, 

 through the broad gap, I must have gone either right over or 

 very near the place where they assemble. At 4.45 the first Great 

 Plover flew over the bank (flying silently), and, a minute or two 

 afterwards, I began to hear the cry. Another followed shortly 

 afterwards. It was the very earliest twilight of the morning, the 

 moon and stars quite bright, except in the eastern sky, where the 

 latter were fading into dawn. 



At 4.55 two more flew over. Then came in the following 

 order and number: — 1, 1, 2, 1, 1, 1, 2, 4, 1, 3, 1, 5, 2, 1, 2. One 

 of the last two uttered a short single note of different tone to the 

 usual one. It had a scrappiness in it, and was without the wail- 

 ing character. One other bird — flying a little before these, the 

 other way, and which, I think, was a Great Plover — uttered a short 

 single note, repeated, which was again different, nor was it the 

 " tir-whi-whi-whi-whi-whi." Otherwise, all flew silently ; but the 

 ground-note was now frequent. I had noted a small flock flying 

 (and, I think, going down) on the other side of the bank, and the 

 cries which I had before heard I attribute to these or other birds 

 on the ground. 



It is 5.10, and some five minutes since the last bird flew by. 

 Now come 1, 1, 1, the last making the full characteristic wail, 

 but without the wailing trills and twitters which, I believe, are 

 only uttered on the ground. Getting lighter and lighter, and 

 birds beginning to avoid me as they fly over the bank, but one of 

 last three went quite close by me, without seeming to notice me. 

 Then come eleven flying together in a flock, quite silently. Then 

 two more. Time 5.17. Forty-nine birds, therefore, as a mini- 

 mum, have flown up to this resort between 4.45 and 5.17 a.m. 

 I cannot at all say how many may have come invisibly from an 

 opposite direction, or how many flying over me I may not have 

 observed (though I do not think any). 



5.30. — Is now clear daylight, stars invisible, though moon 



