from pursuing her. The male immediately joins her in mimic wretchedness, uttering a note so soft and plaintive, that it requires a strong stimulus to force the naturalist to rob the poor birds of their treasure.
The nest around is imbedded in the moss to its edges, which is com- posed of fine grasses, circularly disposed, and forming a bed about two inches thick, with a lining of grous' feathers, and those of other birds. In the beginning of July, the eggs are deposited. They are four or five in number, large, greyish, and covered with numerous pale blue and brown spots. The young leave the nest before they are able to fly, and follow their parents over the moss, where they are fed about a week. They run nimbly, emit a soft peep, and squat closely at the first appearance of danger. If observed and pursued, they open their wings to aid them in their escape, and separating, make off with great celerity. On such occasions it is difficult to secure more than one of them, unless several persons be present, when each can pursue a bird. The parents all this time are following the enemy overhead, lamenting the danger to which their young are exposed. In several instances, the old bird followed us almost to our boat, aligliting occasionally on a projecting crag before us, and entreating us, as it were, to restore its offspring. By the first of August many of the young are fully fledged, and the different broods are seen associating together, to the number of forty, fifty, or more. They now gradually remove to the islands of the coast, where they remain until their departure, which takes place in the beginning of September. They start at the dawn of day, proceed on their way south at a small elevation above the water, and fly in so straggling a manner, that they can scarcely be said to move in flocks.
This species returns to Labrador and the adjoining islands in the beginning of June. The males are then so pugnacious and jealous of their females, that the sight of one of their own sex, instantly excites them to give battle ; and it is curious to observe^ that no sooner does one of these encounters take place, than several other males join in the fray. They close, flutter, bite, and tumble over, as the European Sparrow is observed to do on similar occasions. Several times while in Labrador, I took advantage of their pugnacious disposition, and procured two or three individuals at a shot, which it is difficult to do at any other time. Several pairs breed in the same place, but not near each other. The male bird sings sweetly while on wing, although its song is comparatively short. It springs from the moss or naked rock obliquely, for about forty yards, begins and ends its
