288 THE ZOOLOGIST. 



had inside places — and each has his own — represented by the 

 depressions aforesaid, kept to them. The Ruffs are never 

 molested by the Terns in this resort of theirs, though, from the 

 end of April, these are all about, and some have their nests 

 quite near. They would not be let alone, I think, under ordinary 

 circumstances, but they have their established place, and it is 

 recognized as theirs. 



April 14th. — A very cold, stern day, with hardly any sun, and 

 a continuous, strong north-east wind. At about 7 a.m. a solitary 

 Ruff was at the Ze/c-place, which, as I came up, of course flew 

 away ; but though I waited behind my ensconcement till past 

 nine — three of the weariest and most comfortless hours I have 

 ever passed, cold, cramped, uncomfortable, and my eyes full of 

 sand — no other bird came. I hope to goodness the size of my 

 place has not alarmed them — fearful thought ! but down ! 



April 15th. — Whilst still watching these Redshanks (this was 

 not from behind anything) a band of Ruffs — some eight or nine 

 in all, all males — came right down on the strand, and imme- 

 diately began to fight. Their tremendous activities had quite a 

 disturbing effect on other species. Oystercatchers were alarmed, 

 and ran out of the way, and the commonplace affairs of Red- 

 shanks were lost and confounded in these more heroical-bluster- 

 ing ones, sweeping like a tornado amongst them. I immediately 

 recognized all their actions of last year, their crazed racings over 

 the ground — not always at one another — their sudden illogical 

 full-stops, with heads bent forward, feathers out-ruffled, and a 

 look of almost comic surprise. It was not all fighting, however 

 — rather, indeed, rant than achievement — and then, all at once, 

 off flew some five across the water, and, pitching on the smooth 

 stretch of muddy sand beyond it, raced and ranted again. They 

 were followed by the rest, and, a few moments later, the entire 

 flock were off, and disappeared behind the straight line of an 

 embankment. There was not a female amongst them. Here, 

 then, are the Ruffs, and their nuptial plumage looked well grown ; 

 but when will they go — or will they ever again go — to their accus- 

 tomed tourney-ground ? 



I do not think the lists are abandoned. Going there this 

 evening, I find three feathers, all of which look quite new, nor do 

 I think they were there before. Very probably the birds I saw 



