THE BIRDS OF DUNGENESS. 223 



before taking wing ; but if taken by surprise — as, for instance, it 

 may be if its nest is anywhere near a bank or wall — it would rise 

 right off the nest. I also found that its eggs were often not 

 arranged in the nest as Plovers' eggs are generally supposed to 

 be, but I think that the irregularity is only due to accidental 

 carelessness when the bird is leaving its nest. I caught a nestling 

 of this species on the 12th May. Its protecting colouring was 

 amply illustrated by the difficulty I had in finding it when I got 

 to the spot where I had seen it moving. Its upper surface is a 

 greyish dun-colour with black stipplings. There are patches of 

 bare skin on each shoulder, the skin itself being black. The 

 down on the under side is white with the exception of the black 

 pectoral band. It is curious that the black pectoral band should 

 be present in the nestling of the young Lapwing, and not in that 

 of the Ring Plover, when it is quite as distinct a feature in the 

 adult of both species. The beak is blackish, and the tarsi and 

 feet are lead-coloured in front and above, and flesh-coloured 

 behind and on the soles. 



I should be inclined to think that the Lapwing is a rather 

 more wary bird than the Ring Plover. The latter bird would 

 often go on to its eggs when the observer's head and shoulders 

 were plainly visible to it, the only necessity being to get far 

 enough away, and to lie quite still. On the other hand, I was 

 never successful in watching a Lapwing on to its eggs unless I 

 got altogether out of sight behind a bush, or other suitable shelter. 

 This of course sometimes meant being a considerable distance 

 away, but the larger size compensated more or less for the extra 

 distance. One would have several fruitless watches for every 

 successful one with both birds, and it was often very puzzling to 

 diagnose the actions of the birds. But, as a rule, when both 

 birds of the pair were to be seen together, I came to the con- 

 clusion that they either had no eggs or an incomplete clutch, as 

 I was never successful on such occasions in watching the bird on 

 to its nest ; or their eggs were hatched and the young were near ; 

 but in this latter case their excited behaviour would always 

 betray their anxiety, and a little longer exercise of one's patience 

 would probably be rewarded by a glimpse of the young ones run- 

 ning among the pebbles. In the case of a full clutch of eggs, 

 with the bird sitting, you would almost invariably only see a 



