88 
THE CONDOR 
Vol. XI 
of the male Curlew I had angered on my preceding trip across the prairie. The 
post, remnant of a removed fence, was in the midst of a long knoll-side, stretch- 
ing a mile in either direction, and served as a vantage point for the Curlew in 
guarding his home. I explained to my farticeps criminis that while the female 
Curlew is sitting on her eggs, the male is loafing somewhere within sight of the 
nest, ready to defend the premises in case of threatened danger to his home. We 
found the male there, feeding carelessly. The first thing, in order to impress upon 
my friend’s mind (that is, such portion of it as was not occupied with picture) 
the great difficulty in finding a nest of the Curlew if one doesn’t know how to do 
it, I directed him to make a mental note of the place where we first attracted the 
Curlew, so as to make an estimate of the distance from it to the nest (if we should 
find it). From the place where the Curlew settled down near us and angrily 
cackled the first time, my friend afterward guessed the distance to the nest to be 
over a half mile. And you who live in the west know how deceptive distances 
are out here. 
The general theory of finding a Curlew’s nest lies in this fact: the male, 
while the female is sitting, will follow you if you go toward the nest, or leave you 
alone if you veer away from the general direction toward it; and the nearer you 
get to the nest, the more angry and threatening becomes the male in showing his 
dislike of your presence near it. Now, finding a nest of the Curlew is a trade 
secret; and while willing to show my friend the nest, it wasn’t necessary that I 
show him how to find the nest, for his hobby was pictures , you will remember; so 
why strew one’s pearls before the unappreciative? If he ever becomes an egg- 
crank and wishes me to show him how to find the nests, I shall be glad to offer 
him the courtesies of the profession. In this instance, however, having ideas of 
his own, he proposed that we separate, upon my explaining to him that all de- 
pended upon the actions of the bird and that we must be guided solely by those; 
if the Curlew chose to act up, all right; and if not, there was not the remotest 
likelihood of our finding any nest. 
In my own course, separated from him, I followed my usual tactics, gradually 
getting into closer quarters with the gallant old bird and calling my friend to me 
often enough to keep him in the fighting and to allow him to draw his own conclu- 
sions regarding the modus operandi of locating the nest. The knoll, which was 
only of very slight grade, was crossed by a road about a quarter of a mile from the 
starting post. We crossed the road and continued the chase in the adjoining 
pasture. At length, an hour and fifteen minutes after the chase began, I saw the 
female spread closely upon her nest ahead of us. Ah, there was the picture — no, 
the reality in every interesting feature — for where can you show an egg-crank a 
more pleasing sight than a live Curlew hovering her nest? That was the picture 
we didn't get, and I still believe I saw the real picture, and what we carried back 
on our plates was a mere suggestion of what the bird-lover saw and carried home. 
Look at the picture and judge for yourself. As I write this I see in memory that 
mother Curlew flattened over her eggs, and I long for the days to come again 
when the Curlews will lead me a merry chase. 
Several days later that same old egg-box and camera were concerned in another 
affair worth mentioning. My fellow-hobbyist was absent, having gone out of 
town to take some pictures-, but the original man with a hobby was there. I was 
wandering along a dry water course, having frequent patches of weeds and sprouts, 
suggestive of nests of Marsh Hawk or Sharp-tailed Grouse. In fact, I had seen 
several times a Hawk quartering along over the locality, and I started in to search 
the rose-patches for a nest. You understand how a fellow, when he once gets 
