672 
some dry rushes, were two nests of the 
mallard and two of the marsh hawk. The 
water of the pool was but a few inches deep 
in any part, and it was fairly alive with 
shore-birds. There were golden and black- 
bellied plovers,, yellow-legs, dowitchers, 
sanderlings and other Sandpipers, . turn- 
stones, avocets, willets ‘and phalaropes. 
They were wading about and actively prob- 
ing the soft mud, without any interference 
or jealousy, and all were having a fine time. 
Within a few days all but the last three 
kinds had left for the far north, and even 
among the phalaropes there was a division, 
for there were two kinds, the northern and 
the Wilson’s, and it was only the latter 
which stayed. 
Back on the dry prairies the sickle-billed 
curlew, the marbled godwit, the upland or 
field plover and the kildeer nested; but this 
group of three—the avocet, willet and Wil- 
son’s phalarope—form a distinct unity,— 
shore-birds which nest beside the grassy 
pools in this southern section of the north- 
west shore-bird paradise. 
I propose that we pitch our tent among 
these open lakelets in a well-watered region 
in western Assiniboia, tether out the horses, 
and enjoy these quaint shore-birds. Whére 
we see one, we shall probably find the three, 
and discover that, though they mingle on 
good terms in their bird society, each has a 
distinct and pronounced individuality. 
As we approach the lake which we have 
selected for our camping ground, we shall 
be wise to exercise more circumspection 
than our shore-birds find necessary, or we 
may meet with unpleasantness, such as I 
experienced when new to that country. 
We were driving over the prairie toward a 
lake, having no eyes for anything save the 
avocets on the shore and three pairs of 
wild geese out in the water, which seemed 
solicitous over our intrusion. It was an 
alkaline.country, and the ground, which 
looked firm and dry with a crust of the salts, 
proved to be far otherwise. Suddenly the 
horse broke through this crust, and, after a 
short struggle, fell down and lay still, com- 
pletely mired, the wagon also sinking in up 
to the hubs. Wehad an unpleasant time of 
it before we got out. But, with the exercise 
of due care, we may make camp on a dry 
spot on the breezy prairie beside the lake, 
and learn more about shore-birds and water- 
fowl from first-hand observation than is 
The Outing Magazine 
permitted to any but the most favored 
lovers of wild nature. Would that Audu- 
bon could have enjoyed this treat! 
Of this trinity of odd characters—bird- 
freaks, we might call them—which we are 
following up, the bright and shining light 
is certainly the avocet. Its very appear- 
ance is distinguished, and instantly arrests 
attention. The plumage is of sharply con- 
trasted black and white, with yellowish buff 
on head and neck; the legs are like stilts, 
while the bill, too, is long and slender, curv- 
ing up in a way to make one wonder how 
the creature can eat. The first pair which 
I ever saw, on the shore of a Dakota lake, 
made a profound impression on me by their 
appearance and graceful movements as 
they ran jauntily about pursuing some sort 
of insect prey. 
The saying that what is meat to one may 
be poison to another is well exemplified in 
the avocet. For our part, we have to exer- 
cise great care in that western country to 
avoid drinking alkaline water, whereas the 
avocet dislikes the insipid stuff which we 
extol as pure. Seemingly it is as objection- 
able to him as food without salt is to us. 
Hence we have to travel well west toward 
the Bad Lands of Dakota before we find 
the water sufficiently seasoned to suit our 
dainty epicure and to induce him to remain 
for the summer. Even the most unsavory 
mud hole, which is too bad for most of the 
other birds, is not without attraction for 
that craver of strong condiments. 
Practically every lake and pool in the 
region where we stayed in western Assini- 
boia had its breeding colony of avocets 
running and vociferating along its muddy 
shores. These colonies are not great bird 
cities, but villages and hamlets, making up 
in number what they lack in size. They 
average from three or four to a dozen or 
fifteen pairs, though occasionally they run 
up to several dozens. The first such group 
which we found comprised about fifteen 
families, and was situated along the shore 
of a muddy bay of alargelake. It was the 
last week in May, and, as we approached 
this shallow arm of the lake, with its 
whitened margin, we could see the distin- 
guished avocets wading about. Near them 
were a large company of black-bellied plov- 
ers and sanderlings, with some willets and 
godwits and a few phalaropes. The mi- 
gratory plovers, as usual, were decidedly 
