PENGUINS ON THE SOUTH POLAR ICE.
Curlew.
The wonderful art with which the feathered inhabitants of the grove construct their nests, we should in vain look for among the Strand-birds, but the anxiety they show in protecting their young brood, and the stratagems they use to divert the attention of the enemy, are after all instincts no less admirable than those which prompt the Cassique or the Tailor-bird to build their complicated dwellings. Thus on the approach of any person to its nest, the Lapwing flutters round his head with great inquietude, and if he persists in advancing, it will endeavour to draw him away by running along the ground as if lame, and thereby inviting pursuit. The Golden Plover also, when it sees an enemy—-man or dog—-approach, does not await their arrival, but advances to meet them. Then suddenly rising with a shrill cry, as if just disturbed from its nest, it flutters along the ground as if crippled, and entices them farther and farther from its young. The dogs, expecting to catch an easy prey, follow the lame bird, which suddenly, however, flies off with lightning speed, and leaves its disappointed pursuers on the beach. The discovery of the nest is rendered still more difficult by the colour and markings of the eggs assimilating so closely to that of the ground and surrounding herbage.
The Scoopers, Oyster-catchers, Avosets, and other strand-birds have recourse to similar stratagems for the protection of their young. In New Zealand, the French naturalists, Quoy and Gaimard, were deceived by an oyster-catcher, which, having been shot at, feigned to be wounded, and with hanging wing, diverted them from the right track.
Avoset.
The strand-birds of the high northern regions fly from the winter to coasts where milder winds are blowing. But as soon as the summer's sun begins to exert its power, the desert shores of the Arctic Ocean become animated with swarms of plovers, sand-pipers, rails, herons, and phalaropes, to whom the thawed strand opens its inexhaustible supplies. Soon, however, the approach of winter hardens once more the soil, want follows upon abundance, and the whole long-legged host hastens to abandon the ice-bound strand, which opposes an impenetrable armour to their beaks.