Even the tracks and traces of these little beings are full of information. What may be read in the track of a bird on the sand is thus described by a noted ornithologist: Here are foot-notes again, this time of real steps from real feet. . . . The imprints are in two parallel lines, an inch or so apart; each impression is two or three inches in advance of the next one behind; none of them are in pairs, but each one of one line is opposite the middle of the interval between two of the other line; they are steps as regular as a man's, only so small. Each mark is fan-shaped; it consists of three little lines less than an inch long, spreading apart at one extremity, joined at the other. At the joined end, and also just in front of it, a flat depression of the sand is barely visible. Now following the track, we see it run straight a yard or [pg004] more, then twist into a confused ball, then shoot out straight again, then stop, with a pair of the footprints opposite each other, different from the other end of the track, that began as two or three little indistinct pits or scratches, not forming perfect impressions of a foot. Where the track twisted there are several little round holes in the sand. The whole track commenced and finished upon the open sand. The creature that made it could not, then, have come out of either the sand or the water; it must have come down from the air—a two-legged flying thing, a bird. To determine this, and, next, what kind of bird it was, every one of the trivial points of the description just given must be taken into account. It is a bit of autobiography, the story of an invitation to dine, acceptance, a repast, an alarm at the table, a hasty retreat. A bird came on wing, lowering till the tips of its toes just touched the sand, gliding half on wing, half afoot, until the impetus of flight was exhausted; then folding its wings, but not pausing, for already a quick eye spied something inviting; a hasty pecking and probing to this side and that, where we found the lines entangled; a short run after more food; then a suspicious object attracted its attention; it stood stock-still (just where the marks were in a pair), till, thoroughly alarmed, it sprang on wing and was off.[2] [Footnote 2: Elliott Coues.]