THE SAND-PLOVERS. 
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Away they fly, a little black band, just skimming the waves, with 
the Sand-Plover well ahead, and guiding them to a safer rest- 
ing-place a little farther down the coast. I have known this 
occur so often that the “ Wide-a-wake ” was never a great 
favourite with us in the old shooting days of Pagham Har- 
bour. . 
The habits of the species at the nesting season have 
been well described by “The Son of the Marshes”: “No 
bird that I am acquainted with shows more anxiety for its 
eggs and young than the bird under notice. It is this ex- 
treme anxiety that betrays their presence ; you hear a plaintive 
whistle, and the bird flits in front of you, settles down, and 
pipes. There it is, there it is, you can see it as plainly as if 
you had it in your hand. It runs a yard or two away, then 
turns and conies towards you as if it meant to run close up to 
your feet ; stops short, looks at you intently, with its full dark 
eyes, and pipes softly, as if to say, ‘Don’t come any nearer.’ 
But we do, for wc feel inclined to see some perfect acting on 
this proficient little creature’s part. 
“ There it goes, one leg broken and a wing tipped ; now both 
wings are crippled, and it tries to raise its useless wings, but all 
to no purpose ; it drops on its breast, throws its head, with the 
eyes half closed, as much as to say ‘ I’m done for.’ Nothing 
of the kind ; it scuffles out of sight somehow, and you pass on. 
Presently you see a wounded bird trying to keep from falling ; 
it is no use, for the poor creature drops, spreads out its tail 
and wings, as some species do at the last gasp, and lies there, 
to all appearance dead. It is nothing but sheer humbug, the 
whole of it ; on a near approach the bird shoots up and away, 
piping in the most cheerful and contented manner : these 
consummate arts have only been gone through to lure you 
away from the vicinity of its eggs or young. You might, in 
fact, be standing over a nestling and not see it unless the toe 
of your boot caused the tiny creature to move from where it 
had squatted; when the young are alarmed they scatter out.” 
Nest. — None, as a rule, being merely a hollow scooped in 
the sand, though sometimes the bird takes advantage of a 
natural depression. Colonel Feilden has recorded an instance 
in which the nest was lined with the green fleshy leaves and 
stems of Atriplex littoralis. 
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