upon the Shetland Islands during the months of summer. It was De with peculiar pleasure that we
discovered its retreat upon the coast of Norway during a bird-nesting excursion to that country. We had
visited numerous islands with little encouragement, and were about to land upon a flat rock, bare except
where here and there grew tufts of grass or stunted juniper clinging to its surface, when our attention was
attracted by the singular cry of a Turnstone, which, in its eager watch, had seen our approach and had
perched itself upon an eminence of the rock, assuring us, by its querulous oflmepeated note and anxious
motions, that its nest was there. We remained in the boat a short time until we had watched it behind a
tuft of grass, near which, after a minute search, we succeeded in finding the nest. It was placed against the
ledge of the rock, consisted of nothing more than the dropping leaves of the juniper bush, under a creeping
ene of which the eggs, four in number, were snugly concealed and admirably sheltered from the many

storms by which these bleak and exposed rocks are visited, allowing just sufficient room for the bird to
cover anen: We afterwards found several more nests with little difficulty, although requiring a very close
search. In sailing amongst the many islands with which this coast is everywhere studded, we had no
difficulty in ascertaining those on which we should prove successful, and were frequently led to the spot
from a distance by the extreme anxiety and pugnacity evinced by this bird in its attacks upon the larger sea-
fowl, especially Richardson’s Skua, the egg-devouring enemy of other sea-birds. The several nests we
examined, with the exception of two, were placed in similar situations to the one described ; one of these
was under a slanting stone, the other, without any covering whatever, upon the bare rock. They all con-
tained four eggs, some of them more pointed than others, some much like eggs of the common Snipe, but
all having a beautiful tint of purple or crimson, seen in few other eggs.”

The egg, as figured on the 79th plate of Mr. Hewitson’s ‘ Coloured Illustrations of the Eggs of British
Birds,’ accompanying the above account, has a ground-colour of pale-yellowish olive, blotched all over with
irregular patches of dark brown and pale purple, and is one inch and a half in length by one inch and one-
eighth in breadth.

Dr. Saxby, in his ‘Ornithological Notes from Shetland,’ states that in December ‘‘ Turnstones frequent
all parts of the coasts of these islands, associating with Ringed Plovers and Purple Sandpipers, but usually
in small numbers, more than half a dozen being seldom seen together. When in company with other
species they are more easily approached than at other times ; but after having been fired at they become very
suspicious, and for weeks afterwards it is difficult to get within shot upon open ground. On being disturbed
they nearly always utter their loud twittering notes, and invariably fly seawards, seldom alighting until they
have several times passed and repassed the selected spot. When wounded they swim with great ease, and
will even take to the water voluntarily when closely pursued; but I have never seen one attempt to dive.
Although they mostly frequent rocky shores, the sands, during stormy weather or immediately afterwards,
appear to be very attractive.” With regard to the habit which has obtained the bird its trivial name,
Dr. Saxby remarks, “1 have watched these birds for hours at a time, and besides witnessing the act
repeatedly, have afterwards visited the ground, where the displacement of stones and shells, and even the
completely reversed position of some have been quite sufficient to prove the existence of the habit. Such
traces are of course most readily observed upon a sandy beach, where the stones are few and scattered ; and
upon masses of drifted weed the wet appearance of all those portions which have lately been disturbed are
very evident; indeed it is chiefly among seaweed that that peculiar method of searching for food is
employed.” ‘I was delighted,” says Audubon, ‘‘to see the ingenuity with which they turned over the
oyster-shells, clods of mud, and other small bodies left exposed by the retiring tide. Whenever the body
was not too large, the bird bent its legs to half their length, placed its bill beneath it, and, with a sudden
quick jerk of the head, pushed it off, when it quickly picked up the food that was thus exposed to view, and
walked deliberately to the next shell to perform the same operation. In several instances, when the clusters
of oyster-shells or clods of mud were too heavy to be removed in the ordinary way, they would not only use
the bill and head, but also the breast, pushing the object with all their strength, and reminding me of the
labour I have undergone in turning over a large turtle. Among the seaweeds cast on the shore they used
the bill only, tossing the garbage from side to side with the utmost dexterity.”

The figures in the accompanying Plate represent the two sexes, of the natural size.