NESTING OF TBINGA ALPINA. 23 



travelled but a short distance, when he called out — just as I saw 

 a Dunlin rise before him — announcing four eggs. Now, this 

 was the direction from which the low notes had issued, and the 

 bird may have been calling while sitting. I hastened to get a 

 glimpse of the beautifully-marked treasures, which lay in a tuft 

 of springing grass, big ends upwards and outwards, in the form 

 of a cross, completely hidden save from immediately above ; (all 

 the nests we have found were so hidden.) I proposed to retire 

 sufficiently to allow of her return, just to make quite certain of 

 its being a Dunlin, and, after a lapse of thirty minutes, a pair of 

 these birds passed low over the nest, wheeling, and then over 

 it again, finally settling by a marsh-pool. Tiring of our watch, 

 we left to stretch our legs, and, returning some time later, 

 flushed the bird from the nest ; and, seeing the black patch on 

 one side of the breast, we were satisfied as to its identity. 



On May 21st, we had been on the marsh some time when I 

 heard a sudden loud squealing, accompanied by the excited cries 

 of Eedshanks, coming from the direction of my friend two 

 hundred yards away. At that moment I discovered a Dunlin's 

 nest with two eggs, while my friend excitedly beckoned me to 

 come and see his find — for he, too, had found a Dunlin's nest, 

 with four lovely eggs on the point of hatching ; we had found 

 them simultaneously! The noisy "squealing" was the dis- 

 tressful cries of the retreating pair of Dunlins as they left the 

 nest, and we had never heard the note before from the throat of 

 this bird. Why were the Redshanks so alarmed ? We suspect 

 it was this unusual startling cry of the Dunlins, and they had 

 chimed in on the impulse of the moment, scarcely knowing what 

 had caused it. 



June 11th saw me alone — from 9.30 a.m. to 8.30 p.m. — 

 watching the habits of Tringa alpina in particular. Near one 

 of the marsh-brooks I flushed a female Dunlin, which flew about 

 me in such a manner that I suspected still another nest. Many 

 a time she alighted within fourteen feet of me, at short intervals 

 uttering the nesting "wote, wote," and occasionally, on spring- 

 ing up from the grass, the usual Dunlin whistle. The male 

 joined her later, bleating as he came from a distant portion of 

 the marsh. I discovered, this day, that when bleating and 

 descending the bird's progress through the air is slackened, 



