300 FOOT-NOTES FROM A PAGE OF SAND. 
other line ; they are steps as regular as a man’s, only so small. 
Each mark is fan-shaped ; it consists of three little lines less 
than an inch long, spreading apart at one extremity, joined 
at the other; at the joined end, and also just in front of 
it, a flat depression of the sand is barely visible. So much: 
now following the track we see it run straight a yard 
or more, then twist into a confused ball, then shoot out 
straight; again then stop, with a pair of the foot-prints op- 
posite each other, different from the other end of the track, 
that begun as two or three little indistinct pits or scratches, 
not forming perfect impressions of a foot; where the track 
twisted there are several little round holes in the sand. 
The whole track commenced and finished upon the open 
sand. The creature that made it could not, then, have come 
out of either the sand or the water; as there are no fire- 
animals now days, it must have come down from the air; a 
two-legged flying thing—a bird. To determine this, and 
next, what kind of bird it was, every one of the trivial 
points of the description just given must be taken into ac- 
count. 
It is a bit of autobiography ; ; the story of an invitation to 
dine, acceptance, a repast, an alarm at the table, a hasty re- 
treat. A bird came on wing, lowering till the tips of its 
toes just touched the sand, gliding half on wing, half a foot, 
until the impetus of flight was exhausted; then folding its 
wings, but not pausing, for already a quick eye spied some- 
thing inviting ; a hasty pecking and probing to this side and 
that, where we found the lines entangled; a short run on 
after more food ; then a suspicious object attracted its atten- 
tion; it stood stock-still (just where the marks were in a 
pair) till, thoroughly alarmed, it sprang on wing and was off. 
So much is perfectly plain and intelligible; it may be not 
quite so easy to find out what the bird was, for we will shut 
the “back-stairs” door and allow no guessing, but go 
honestly about our induction, as if we only knew of dead 
birds in the closet, and had never seen a live one. 
