34 
THE CONDOR 
I Vol. IV 
2nd 5th of a May. Out of ten nests 
found-this year, I saved only four sets; 
in several'I had the pleasure of finding 
the younglings emerging from the 
sheJl. 
It was on June i that I found the 
nest of the male which had led me the 
exasperating chase on the morning of 
May 28. On the later occasion I ap- 
proached the place from a different di- 
rection. In a short time the male was 
fluttering excitedly over my head, and 
I could not understand his actions; but 
a deep, wide “coulee” lay between me 
and the continued line of flight, so I 
lost no time in crossing the coulee. On 
the crest of the knoll I found the nest, 
situated and made as usual. I easily 
understood why I had failed to find it 
on the earlier day, for it lay at least two 
hundred yards beyond where I had 
fancied it should be, and across the 
fence in an adjoining pasture. The 
pattern of coloration of the eggs was 
light yellowish green, with bold mark- 
ings of dark brown. I packed the eggs, 
and went on my wm}^ rejoicing, chuck- 
ling over my skill in having found the 
nest which had given me such trouble. 
But when drilling !the first hole that 
evening, my ear was saluted by a far- 
away-sounding “peep,” and I realized 
that he laughs best who laughs last; 
after all, I had failed, for my collection 
was no richer than when I had given 
up the quest in disgust on the earlier 
morning. 
It was on the following Sunday after- 
noon I found my last curlew nest of the 
season. At about 3:30 I was crossing a 
large pasture, when a male gave the 
customary signs that I was in the vicin- 
ity of a nest. Although a threatening 
cloud was rolling up in the west, and I 
had on a pair of ne w trousers, I ac- 
cepted the challenge, and followed up 
the lead with unusual alacrity. At the 
end of thirty minutes I was enveloped 
in a drifting shower, and Numenius 
was gleaning contentedly over across 
the pasture. Acknowledging myself 
beaten, I started for home, but had not 
gone far when the curlew again began 
his angry threatenings. Now I was 
satisfied that a nest was somewhere on 
that section, anyway, and as the shower 
had passed, I again set m3^3elf to the 
search; my new trousers were spoiled, 
so what dift'erence did it make if I kept 
up the quest? For several hundred 
yards I hunted in the line apparently 
indicated by the angrj^ curlew; another 
shower was scurrying from the moun- 
tains, and again I gave up the chase, 
turned my back upon the indicated cen 
ter of the curlew’s demonstrations, and 
hurried homeward. But the curlew re- 
newed his feints, and was I going to 
leave a set of handsome eggs lying out 
upon the prairie when determined 
search would bring them to light? Not 
I. I would be late for supper anyhow; 
I was already wet to the skin, and so 
nothing was to be gained by hurrying 
home. Buttoning up my coat to pro- 
tect my Sunday necktie, and tilting up 
the rim of my hat to lead the water else- 
where than down my back, I bent over 
the trail in grim resolution. It was just 
about dusk when I climbed through the 
wire fence into the next pasture, and 
there — not twenty feet from the fence, 
lay the female, waiting for me almost 
to lift her from the nest. One downy 
yellow youngster was crouching help- 
lessly upon his breast between the 
halves of his recent home, another had 
pushed apart the forward end of the 
shell and was quaintly^ looking out up- 
on a new world, while vigorous 
“peeps” announced that there would 
be more curlews another year to give 
zest to the, season of ’02. 
