c. and ir. Candler’s notes from the Netherlands. 171 
himself set an extravagant value upon his services. Among the 
miscellaneous collection of objects in the cabin of the “Benbrach” 
wo noticed a Lesser Tern’s egg, and on the shore we found six 
nestlings of this bird, five of which were dead, killed by the 
chilling rain of the previous day. Inside the sandhills, opposite 
the wreck, a large tract of land had been recently overflowed by 
the sea, and was now a waste of sand and shingle, bare or thinly 
coveriid with coarse vegetation. Here both the Lesser and Common 
Terns were breeding, and we found a nest of the latter containing 
three eggs. On our homeward walk the near view of a Godwit, 
standing on a turf wall, in full breeding plumage, the sun shining 
upon his red breast, was a sufficient reward for the efforts of a 
long day. 
In the evening wo were fortunate enough to make the acquaint- 
ance of Mr. J. P. Thijsse, the Master of the Higher Grade State 
School of the island, and a keen naturalist, who hearing of our 
fruitless quest of the Avocet, promised to show us the bird in its 
feoding grounds, close to the town, the next day. At half-past 
five on a rough, stormy morning, Mr. Thijsse called for us, and 
took us to a marshy piece of land, between the wooded height 
called “The Iloogte” and the village of Glide Schild. Here, 
about a small and shallow pool, an extraordinary number of birds 
were assembled ; Oyster-catchers were running to and fro, Godwits 
circling overhead, Redshanks dashing about us, and among them, 
to our great delight, from a dozen to a score of Avocets. We stood 
ipiite still, and in a short time the birds ceased to be disturbed by 
our presence, and with glasses we could enjoy the sight of their 
varied movements. Three or four Avocets were feeding in the 
shallow water, wading slowly and sweeping for food in their 
peculiar manner with lateral strokes of their long upturned bills ; 
others were resting motionless ; and others again were in the air, 
flying round with the striking cry which the Dutch have rendered 
khiit. On taking flight the birds rose vertically, with a slow and 
slightly laboured motion, though this perhaps was due to the strong 
wind then blowing. We left the place reluctantly, for there was a 
strong fascination about it ; the gentle lift of the land behind us, 
the wide-stretching polder in front, the white-washed church of 
Scandinavian type beyond, the keen wind and the grey sky, the 
sight of the birds and the music of their cries, all suggested some 
