The American Avocet 
click of the camera was sweeter music in our ears than the explosion of 
death-dealing cartridges before a band of elk. 
The birds were driven to the very limit ot frenzy, dancing, wing-trail¬ 
ing, swaying, going through last convulsions and beginning over again 
without regard to logical sequence, all in an agony of effort to divert 
attention from those precious eggs. It may seem cruel to have harassed 
them so, but we were sustained by the integrity of our purpose, which was 
not robbery, but snap-shottery; and we neglected no opportunity to work 
upon their feelings. Neighbors came up and looked on sympathetically, 
or joined in the clamor. 
As time elapsed, however, the color of the play changed. Finding 
that the appeal to cupidity was of no avail, the birds appeared to fall back 
upon the appeal to pity. Decoying was useless, that was plain; so they 
stood with upraised wings, quivering and moaning, in tenderest supplica¬ 
tion. It was too much even for conscious rectitude, and we withdrew, for 
once, abashed. 
But if one fancies that the Avocet’s repertory either of cajolery or 
abuse is exhausted in defense of her eggs, he should wait until a chick is 
Taken in Merced County 
COUSINS: BABY AVOCET (in lead) AND BABY STILT 
Photo by the Author 
1201 
