The Baird Sandpiper 
and scapulars rounded, with conspicuous, white terminal edging; the streaking of 
breast, etc., less distinct. Length (av. of 8 Alaskan specimens): 192 (7.56); wing 
119.3 (4.70); tail 50.3 (1.98); bill 21.2 (.83); tarsus 22.7 (.89). 
Recognition Marks. —Sparrow size, but appearing larger; about the size of a 
Spotted Sandpiper; dull fuscous and buffy coloration of upperparts; buffy breast 
streaked with fuscous; upper tail-coverts not white. To the superficial glance a 
smaller counterpart of P. maculata; streaking of chest a little less sharp; paler, less 
rufescent, above. 
Nesting. —Does not breed in California. Nest: A slight hollow on dry tundra, 
or sometimes partly hidden in overshadowing vegetation. Eggs: 3 or 4; ovate, 
pointed; deep olive-buff, heavily and sometimes finely spotted with brownish black or 
sepia. Av. size 32 x 21.6 (1.26 x .85); index 67.4. Season: June; one brood. 
General Range. — Breeds along Arctic Coast of America from Point Barrow to 
Keewatin. Migrates to South America (as far as Chile) by way of Mexico. In the 
United States passes chiefly between the Rocky Mountains and the Mississippi River, 
but also occurs irregularly upon both coasts and at scattered interior points. 
Occurrence in California. —Spring and fall migrant coastwise; of regular 
occurrence at Santa Barbara, but apparently less observed elsewhere. One record from 
the interior: Fish Springs (Imperial County) April 28, 19x7. 
Authorities.—Sharpe (Heteropygia bairdi), Cat. Birds Brit. Mus., vol. xxiv., 
1896, p. 570 (three spec, listed from “California"); Bowles and Howell, Condor, vol. 
xiv., 1912, p. 8 (Santa Barbara; migr. dates); Wyman, Condor, vol. xxi., 1919, p. 172 
(Los Angeles Co.). 
“ONE little sandpiper and I." It had been a tedious and profitless 
day at Sandyland. Birds were scarce and ill-behaved, and the Graflex 
had become very heavy. The beach dragged along in a birdless monotony 
and the waves snickered and hissed upon the sloping sands in mocking 
irony. There was nothing for it but to give it up as a bad job and hike 
along barefoot to the patient, homebound automobile. But all at once a 
Baird Sandpiper came winging down the wind, saw the birdman, hove to, 
and settled amiably on the beach, some forty feet beyond. I am so mani¬ 
festly the decoy bird that 1 determine to turn the piper’s curiosity to 
account. The bird is wary at first, but by patient persistence the photog¬ 
rapher succeeds in gaining a point directly opposite, up the same slope, 
and not over thirty feet away. The bird prefers to feed just below the 
edge of the highest wave-wash, and is especially careful to inspect the 
light row of freshly stranded kelp. It has a dislike of the wetter sand, and 
as often as the wave itself comes too close, the bird either takes to wing 
with a startled cry or else scampers up to the high sands. As it feeds it 
follows the sinuosities of the wave-edge, and I endeavor to parallel its 
course, with the camera ever trained. Gradually the distance narrows, 
1236 
“As up and down the beach we Hit 
One little sandpiper anti I,” 
