The Dunlin is absolutely the commonest Limicoline bird of the shore, and certainly the most widely dispersed. It possesses the habit, in common with so many other species of this order, of retiring to moors to breed; but as soon as nesting duties are done it returns to the coast, and for the remainder of the year continues to reside upon it. The Dunlins that breed in our islands represent but a very small portion of the vast number that winter on the British coasts. The majority of these are from more northern haunts, winter migrants, that haste away again with the return of spring. During its residence on the coast the Dunlin is remarkably gregarious, assembling often in flocks of thousands, which, by preference seek such portions of the shore as are low-lying and muddy. Salt-marshes, slob-lands, estuaries and creeks, and vast expanses of mud—as the Wash for instance, are the favourite haunts of the Dunlin. These large flocks of Dunlins are much more difficult to approach than smaller gatherings or individual birds. Dunlins are active little birds, almost incessantly in motion, running daintily about the muds, by the margin of the waves, or wading through the shallow tide pools. During the course of feeding a large flock will become widely scattered, and it is remarkable how quickly the broken ranks reform. There are few sights so pretty along the salt-marshes and mud-flats than a large flock of Dunlins, in the act of performing those graceful aerial movements so characteristic of this little bird during its winter sojourn upon the coast. The whole flock, as with a single impulse, will spread out like a net, close up again, apparently vanish, appear black, or like a flash of silver, just as the birds turn and expose their dark or white plumage to the light. Sometimes the flock will head straight away down the coast, passing the observer with a rush and whirr of wings, and a chorus of _purring_ cries; at other times a large flock will rise _en masse_ from the muds, pass out to sea a little way, turn, and go some distance along the shore, come back again, repeating the movement time after time, ever and anon appearing as though about to alight, dipping and rising with marvellous regularity. No doubt these movements will recall to the observer the gyrations of the autumn flocks of Starlings, for there is much in common between the two. During its sojourn upon the coast the Dunlin feeds upon crustaceans, sand-worms, molluscs, and other small marine organisms; but in summer insects, grubs, worms, and ground-fruits are eaten. The usual note of the Dunlin is harsh, and resembles the word _purr_—hence one of the bird’s trivial names; during the breeding season it is a long drawn _peezh_. In the pairing season, when the male indulges in certain aerial gambols, he utters a trill, which has been likened by some observers to the continuous ringing of a small bell.