i6o 



Gyngell : A Naturalist's Holiday. 



to it again in a few days, attention was next directed to a third 

 species, the Little Tern, still smaller and less numerous than the 

 Common species. 



As with the other birds, Sterna minuta selects its own special 

 breeding-ground, and this allotment we found on the sea shore 

 at the foot of the 'hills,' but the birds being- much fewer the 

 nests were less easy to find, and only two or three of these 

 saucer-shaped hollows were discovered. Again we were too 

 early, a single egg being the only find. 



The Little Tern is a miniature of the Common species, but 

 its cry is less harsh and somewhat like the note of the Swallow. 

 About the line of the spring high tides was the favourite position 

 for their nests. Whilst seeking these and crossing the parallel 

 lines of shingle which skirt the sandhills on the higher portion of 

 the shore we were constantly disturbed by the rich flute-like 

 whistle of the Oyster-catcher and its sharp alarm note ' click- 

 kirleer,' so, when tired of the search, a hunt was made for nests 

 of the latter, and after a little while the first was found on the 

 top of a shingle ridge in one of the numerous bays amongst the 

 sandhills. This seems to be a favourite position, although nests 

 were afterwards found high up amongst the loose sand. The 

 first nest, which contained three eggs, was interesting in being 

 lined with the small broken shells of the shore, certainly placed 

 there by the birds, though one would scarcely think with a view 

 to comfort. 



Still it rained ! until, thoroughly drenched, a move was made 

 for the estuary shore, where the boatman was signalled for to 

 take us back again to the village. Whilst pacing up and down 

 close to the landing-place I found a nest and eggs of the Ringed 

 Plover, a bird which we had once or twice noticed whilst giving 

 attention to the terns and other birds. The nest was a mere 

 hollow in the shingle, and the four pointed eggs, marked like 

 shore pebbles, were arranged as usual, the points together, 

 somewhat in the form of a Maltese cross. This find was 

 unexpected, as this little plover is an early incubator. Thus 

 ended the first day's work. 



Next morning the sandhills south of the village were 

 explored, and access to this part of the coast was gained by 

 a railway journey of a mile and a half and a short walk across 

 some boggy fields. I had scarcely left the station when a pair 

 of Redshanks were disturbed, whose ringing cries and great 

 agitation told a tale of anxiety for young ones hiding in the 

 long grass. One bird now and again perched on a cowshed and 



Naturalist, 



