The Killdeer 
must be unusual. Mr. and Mrs. Driver were watching a pair whose young 
were evidently in hiding hard by, and they had looked for them in vain. 
The male bird (as they supposed him to be) was beside himself with rage, 
and by way of relieving his emotions he trod the ground furiously. Hold- 
Taken in Washington Photo by the Author 
AN ELEVATED STATION 
ing to one spot he stormed and stamped like a child in a pet, and his 
feet plied like pistons, “3500 r. p. m.” 
Young Killdeers themselves are delightful absurdities. Their strength 
is in their legs, and these carry them pattering away before the embryonic 
juices are fairly dried upon their backs. They need to be nimble, for all 
nature turns teeth to little birds that cannot fly. When papa or mama 
thinks best, also, the little fellows will crouch and freeze most dutifully. 
On such occasions the rump, with its ridiculous tuft of lengthened bristles, 
is stuck up into the air, and passes muster for waving vegetation. The 
finding of a chick under such circumstances is a happy accident. Indeed, 
the discovery at long range, even though the observer be reinforced by 
