The Snowy Plover 
formed of which only one is eventually occupied. For one thing, the bird 
requires a slight elevation—three or four inches will do—so that she may 
command an unobstructed view of approaching danger. The bird takes 
good care not to be caught at home, quitting her charge sometimes at a 
hundred yards’ remove; and it is no easy trick to find the eggs, unaided. If 
incubation is advanced, or discovery indubitable, the anxious mother may 
return to practice decoy ruses, trailing a broken wing, grovelling, and the 
rest. The male meanwhile is describing anxious circles in the offing; or 
else, by way of distraction, he patters forward until he is sure that he is 
commanding attention, then stops abruptly, bridling the head, and by 
repeated bobs challenges your right to intrude. It is rather good sport, 
too, once a location is made, to return by stealth and watch the female 
making that long-range sneak from her eggs. Her attitude is eloquent of 
secrecy. She hugs the sand as closely as is consistent with lightning 
speed. The tell-tale marks of head and chest are averted, so that only 
the sand-colored back may be presented to an eye presumably undis¬ 
criminating. Pauses are made now and then to note the bearing of the 
stranger, but the glance is covert and the sandy flight is hastily resumed. 
In still weather the vicinage of the nest is enveloped in a network of 
intersecting tracks; for the bird never leaves or approaches the eggs save 
Taken near Santa Barbara Photo by the Author 
“PROTECTIVELY COLORED TO THE POINT OF INVISIBILITY” 
1318 
