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Life Histories of
North American
Shore Birds

Life Histories of

North American

Shore Birds

BY

ARTHUR CLEVELAND BENT

IN TWO PARTS

Part I

DOVER PUBLICATIONS, INC.
NEW YORK

Published in Canada by General Publishing Company, Ltd., 30 Lesmill Road, Don Mills, Toronto, Ontario.

Published in the United Kingdom by Constable and Company, Ltd., 10 Orange Street, London WC 2.

This Dover edition, first published in 1962, is an unabridged and unaltered republication of the work originally published by the United States Government Printing Office. Part I was originally published in 1927 as Smithsonian Institution United States National Museum Bulletin 142; Part II was originally published in 1929 as Smithsonian Institution United States National Museum Bulletin 146.

International Standard Book Number: 0-486-20933-4
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 62-51562

Manufactured in the United States of America
Dover Publications, Inc.
180 Varick Street
New York, N. Y. 10014

[ADVERTISEMENT]

The scientific publications of the National Museum include two series, known, respectively, as Proceedings and Bulletin.

The Proceedings, begun in 1878, is intended primarily as a medium for the publication of original papers, based on the collections of the National Museum, that set forth newly acquired facts in biology, anthropology, and geology, with descriptions of new forms and revisions of limited groups. Copies of each paper, in pamphlet form, are distributed as published to libraries and scientific organizations and to specialists and others interested in the different subjects. The dates at which these separate papers are published are recorded in the table of contents of each of the volumes.

The Bulletin, the first of which was issued in 1875, consists of a series of separate publications comprising monographs of large zoological groups and other general systematic treatises (occasionally in several volumes), faunal works, reports of expeditions, catalogues of type-specimens, special collections, and other material of similar nature. The majority of the volumes are octavo in size, but a quarto size has been adopted in a few instances in which large plates were regarded as indispensable. In the Bulletin series appear volumes under the heading Contributions from the United States National Herbarium, in octavo form, published by the National Museum since 1902, which contain papers relating to the botanical collections of the Museum.

The present work forms No. 142 of the Bulletin series.

Alexander Wetmore,
Assistant Secretary, Smithsonian Institution.

Washington, D. C., November 15, 1927.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS]

[INTRODUCTION]

This is the seventh in a series of bulletins of the United States National Museum on the life histories of North American birds. Previous numbers have been issued as follows:

107. Life Histories of North American Diving Birds, August 1, 1919.

113. Life Histories of North American Gulls and Terns, August 27, 1921.

121. Life Histories of North American Petrels, Pelicans and their Allies, October 19, 1922.

126. Life Histories of North American Wild Fowl, May 25, 1923.

130. Life Histories of North American Wild Fowl, June 27, 1925.

135. Life Histories of North American Marsh Birds, "1926." (= March 11, 1927).

The same general plan has been followed, as explained in previous bulletins, and the same sources of information have been utilized.

The classification and nomenclature adopted by the American Ornithologists' Union, in its latest check list and its supplements, have been followed, mainly, with such few changes as, in the author's opinion, will be, or should be, made to bring the work up to date, and in line with recent advances in the science.

The main ranges are as accurately outlined as limited space will permit; the normal migrations are given in sufficient detail to indicate the usual movements of the species; no attempt has been made to give all records, for economy in space, and no pretense at complete perfection is claimed. Many published records, often repeated, have been investigated and discarded; many apparently doubtful records have been verified; some published records, impossible to either verify or disprove, have been accepted if the evidence seemed to warrant it.

The egg dates are the condensed results of a mass of records taken from the data in a large number of the best egg collections in the country, as well as from contributed field notes and from a few published sources. They indicate the dates on which eggs have been actually found in various parts of the country, showing the earliest and latest dates and the limits between which half the dates fall, the height of the season.

The plumages are described only in enough detail to enable the reader to trace the sequence of molts and plumages from birth to maturity and to recognize the birds in the different stages and at the different seasons. No attempt has been made to fully describe adult plumages; this has been already well done in the many manuals. The names of colors, when in quotation marks, are taken from Ridgway's Color Standards and Nomenclature (1912) and the terms used to describe the shapes of eggs are taken from his Nomenclature of Colors (1886 edition). The heavy-faced type in the measurements of eggs indicates the four extremes of measurements.

Many of those who contributed material for former volumes have rendered a similar service in this case. In addition to those whose contributions have been acknowledged previously, our thanks are due to the following new contributors: Photographs, notes, or data have been contributed by W. B. Alexander, Clark Blickensderfer, C. E. Chapman, Karl Christofferson, C. W. Colthrup, Walter Colvin, W. M. Congreve, Joseph Dixon, J. G. Gordon, S. A. Grimes, W. C. Herman, Frank Howland, W. I. Lyon, T. R. Miley, D. J. Nicholson, R. H. Rauch, Russell Richardson, jr., W. A. Smith, J. D. Soper, E. S. Thomas, M. B. Trautman, C. F. Walker, F. M. Weston, H. F. Witherby, A. H. Wood, jr., and C. J. Young.

Receipt of material from over 250 contributors has been acknowledged in previous volumes.

Through the courtesy of the Biological Survey, the services of Frederick C. Lincoln were secured to compile the distribution paragraphs. With the matchless reference files of the Biological Survey at his disposal and with some advice and help from Dr. Harry C. Oberholser, his many hours of careful and thorough work have produced results far more satisfactory than could have been attained by the author, who claims no credit and assumes no responsibility for this part of the work. The few minor changes made in the system do not materially alter the general plan.

Dr. Charles W. Townsend has written the life histories of two species and the Rev. Francis C. R. Jourdain, a well-known British authority, has contributed the life histories and the distributions of six Old World species, which are known to us only as rare stragglers. Mr. J. H. Riley has furnished descriptions and measurements of some rare eggs in the National Museum. We are indebted to Mr. H. F. Witherby for the loan of the valuable photographs of the knot, taken by Admiral Peary, which the author publishes at his own risk, without permission.

As most of the shore birds are known to us mainly, or entirely, as migrants it has seemed desirable to describe their migrations quite fully. As it is a well-known fact that many, if not all, immature and nonbreeding shore birds remain far south of their breeding ranges all summer it has not seemed necessary to mention this in each case. Nor did it seem necessary to say that only one brood is raised in a season, as this is a nearly universal rule with all water birds.

The manuscript for this volume was completed in March, 1927. Contributions received since then will be acknowledged later. Only information of great importance could be added. When this volume appears contributions of photographs or notes relating to the gallinaceous birds should be sent to

The Author.

Life Histories of

North American

Shore Birds

LIFE HISTORIES OF NORTH AMERICAN SHORE BIRDS

ORDER LIMICOLAE (PART 1)

By Arthur Cleveland Bent

Of Taunton, Massachusetts

Family PHALAROPODIDAE, Phalaropes

PHALAROPUS FULICARIUS (Linnaeus)
RED PHALAROPE

HABITS

The female red phalarope in her full nuptial plumage is, to my mind, the handsomest, certainly the most richly colored, of the three known species of phalaropes. The species is cosmopolitan, with a circumpolar breeding range; it is apparently homogeneous throughout its wide range except for a local race, breeding in Spitsbergen, which has been separated and named Phalaropus fulicarius jourdaini Iredale; this race is said to have paler edgings on the back, scapulars, and tertials. The species is commonly known abroad as the grey phalarope, an appropriate name for the bird in its winter plumage, in which it is most often seen.

It is less often seen in the United States than the other two species; its summer home is so far north that it is beyond the reach of most of us; and at other seasons it is much more pelagic than the other species, migrating and apparently spending the winter far out on the open sea, often a hundred miles or more from land. It seldom comes ashore on the mainland except when driven in by thick weather or a severe storm. Hence it is an apparently rare bird to most of us. But in its arctic summer home it is exceedingly abundant. Alfred M. Bailey (1925) says that "this was the most abundant of the shore birds at Wales, as at Wainwright, Alaska. As a person walks over the tundra there is a continual string of those handsome birds rising from the grass." Again he writes:

At Whalen, near East Cape, Siberia, we saw thousands of these beautiful little fellows on July 11. The day was very disagreeable, with a strong wind off the ice and a drizzling rain. From the ship we could see waves of birds rising some distance off in such dense flocks that individuals could not be distinguished; the mass looked like a long, thin cloud swirling before the wind; one end of the line rose high in the air, while the other end swerved nearer to the water. They swung about with the erratic movements and wave-like flight so characteristic of black skimmers, now high in the air, again low over the water. As we worked along the shore, thousands that were feeding close along the beach rose and flew across the sand spit in front of us. There was a continual stream of them drifting by, like so much sand before a strong wind. They were, at this time, beginning to molt their breeding plumage.

Spring.—The migrations of the red phalarope are mainly at sea, usually far out from land. During the month of May enormous flocks may be seen on the ocean off the coasts of New England, but it is only during stress of weather that they are driven inshore. I can well remember a big storm, on May 21, 1892, which brought a large flight of these birds into Cape Cod Bay; Nat Gould killed a large number that day on Monomoy Island and I shot one at Plymouth Beach; others were taken at Provincetown. In pleasant weather these birds are well at home on the heaving bosom of the ocean, flying about in flocks, twisting, turning, and wheeling like flocks of sandpipers, or resting or feeding on the drifting rafts of seaweeds. On the Pacific coast these birds are even more abundant, if one goes far enough offshore to see them during April and May. They often congregate in considerable numbers about the Farallon Islands. W. Leon Dawson (1923) has drawn a graphic picture of them there, as follows:

Here in late spring thousands of these birds ride at anchor in the lee of the main island, along with other thousands of the other northern species, Lobipes lobatus. Of these some few scores are driven ashore by hunger and seek their sustenance in brackish pools, or else battle with the breakers in the little "bight" of the rocky lee shore. The date is May 23, and the company under survey numbers a few brilliant red birds in high plumage among the scores in unchanged gray, together with others exhibiting every intermediate gradation. When to this variety is added a similar diversity among the northerns, which mingle indiscriminately with them, you have a motley company—no two birds alike. Ho! but these are agile surfmen! Never, save in the case of the wandering tattler and the American dipper, have I seen such absolute disregard of danger and such instant adjustment to watery circumstance. Here are 30 of these phalaropes "fine mixed," threading a narrow passage in the reefs where danger threatens in the minutest fraction of a second. Crash! comes a comber. Our little world is obliterated in foam. Sea anemones and rock oysters sputter and choke, and there is a fine fury of readjustment. But the phalaropes rise automatically, clear the crest of the crasher, and are down again, preening their feathers or snatching dainties with the utmost unconcern. Now a bird is left stranded on a reef, or now he is whisked and whirled a dozen feet away. All right, if he likes it; but if not, he is back again, automatically, at the old rendezvous. Life goes on right merrily in spite of these shocking interruptions. Food getting is the main business, and this is pursued with extraordinary ardor. The bird's tiny feet kick the water violently, and there is the tiniest compensatory bob for every stroke, so that their little bodies seem all a tremble. There seems to be no difference of opinion between the two species, but there is time for a good deal of amatory play between the sexes of the reds. It is always the bright-colored female who makes the advances, for the wanton phalaropes have revised nature's order, and the modest male either seeks escape by flight, or else defends himself with determined dabs. Here is the authentic lady for whom Shakespeare's "pilgrim" sighed.

Of their arrival on their breeding grounds in northern Alaska, E. W. Nelson (1887) writes:

It is much more gregarious than its relative, and for a week or two after its first arrival 50 or more flock together. These flocks were very numerous the 1st of June, 1879, at the Yukon mouth, where I had an excellent opportunity to observe them. In the morning the birds which were paired could be found scattered here and there, by twos, over the slightly flooded grassy flats. At times these pairs would rise and fly a short distance, the female, easily known by her bright colors and larger size, in advance, and uttering now and then a low and musical "clink, clink," sounding very much like the noise made by lightly tapping together two small bars of steel. When disturbed these notes were repeated oftener and became harder and louder. A little later in the day, as their hunger became satisfied, they began to unite into parties until 15 or 20 birds would rise and pursue an erratic course over the flat. As they passed swiftly along stray individuals and pairs might be seen to spring up and join the flock. Other flocks would rise and the smaller coalesce with the larger until from two hundred to three or even four hundred birds were gathered in a single flock. As the size of the flock increased its movements became more and more irregular. At one moment they would glide straight along the ground, then change to a wayward flight, back and forth, twisting about with such rapidity that it was difficult to follow them with the eye. Suddenly their course would change, and the compact flock, as if animated by a single impulse, would rise high over head, and, after a series of graceful and swift evolutions, come sweeping down with a loud, rushing sound to resume their playful course near the ground. During all their motions the entire flock moves in such unison that the alternate flashing of the underside of their wings and the dark color of the back, like the play of light and shade, makes a beautiful spectacle. When wearied of their sport the flock disbands and the birds again resume their feeding.

Courtship.—The well-known reversal of sexual characters in the phalaropes makes their courtship particularly interesting, as the large, handsome females press their ardent suits against the timid and dull-colored little males. A. L. V. Manniche (1910) has given us the best account of it, as follows:

June 19, 1907, early in the morning, I had the pleasure of watching for hours the actions of a loving couple of phalaropes on the beach of a pool surrounded by large sedge tufts, covered with long, withered grass. This act I found very funny, peculiar, and charming. When the male had been eagerly searching for food for some 20 minutes, often standing on his head in the water, like a duck, to fish or pick up something from the bottom, he would lie down on a tuft, stretching out his one leg and his one wing as if he would fully enjoy the rest after his exertions. The female for some moments was lying quietly and mutely in the middle of the pool; suddenly she began with increasing rapidity to whirl around on the surface of the water, always in the same little circle, the diameter of which was some 10 centimeters. As the male seemed to pay no attention to her alluring movements, she flew rapidly up to him—producing as she left the water a peculiar whirling sound with her wings and uttering short angry cries—pushed him with her bill, and then she returned to the water and took up her swimming dance. Now the male came out to her, and the two birds whirled around for some moments equally eager and with increasing rapidity. Uttering a short call, the female again flew to a tuft surrounded by water and waited some seconds in vain for the male; again she flew to the water to induce him with eager pushes and thumps to accompany her. They again whirled violently around, whereafter she, uttering a strong, alluring sound, flew back to the tuft, this time accompanied by the male—and the pairing immediately took place. In the matrimony of the grey phalarope the female only decides. She exceeds the male in size and brilliancy of plumage and has the decisive power in all family affairs. If she wants to shift her place of residence she flies up swift as an arrow with a commanding cry—which may be expressed as "pittss"—and if the male does not follow her at once she will immediately return and give him a severe punishment, which never fails to have the desired effect. It is a well-known fact that she completely ignores her eggs and young ones.

Nesting.—The same author describes the nesting habits of this species, in northeast Greenland, as follows:

It is peculiar, that the male has well-marked breeding spots before the breeding begins and certainly before the female has laid her first egg; but this fact has been proved by several solid examinations. June 26, 1907, I observed on the beach of the Bjergandeso in the Stormkap district, that the nest building was executed by the male. He was busy in building the nest on a low bank covered with short grass, while she paid no attention to his labor, but swam around the beach searching food. The male shaped a nest hollow by turning round his body against the ground on the place selected, having first by aid of the feet scraped away and trampled down the longest and most troublesome straws. He diligently used feet and bill at the same time to arrange the shorter fine straws, which are carefully bent into the nest hollow and form the lining of this. The nest was much smaller than that of Tringa alpina and contained one egg the next day. Along the beaches of a smaller lake not far from the ship's harbor I saw, June 30, three solitary swimming males, at least one of which showed signs of having a nest. I soon found this close to the place of residence of the male in question. The nest contained four fresh eggs and was built in exactly the same way as the before-mentioned nest. The male proved so far from being shy, that he could be driven to his nest and merely be caught by hand; having laid himself upon the nest he was still more fearless.

A breeding phalarope will lie motionless with his head pressed deep down against his back. He is almost fully covered by straws, which surround the nest, as he with the bill bends these over himself, besides he is so similar to the surroundings that no human eye is able to distinguish him from these, if the spot is not known beforehand.

July 9, 1907, I again found a phalarope's nest by the Bjergandeso; it contained four fresh eggs and was built a little differently from the two before-mentioned nests. These were found close to a lake on low banks covered with short grass, but this one was built on a tuft covered with long, withered grass, situated some 10 meters from the real lake, but surrounded by shallow water, that came from a little river running out from the lake and irrigating all the tufts, one of which contained the nest. This bird also kept very close on the nest, and did not leave it before I parted the long grass with my foot. When frightened up from the nest the bird for a short while lay screaming and flapping on the water not far from me; thereupon he flew away, silently and rapidly, to land on the opposite side of the lake. Having been absent for some five minutes he returned just as rapidly, flew a good way to the other side of the nest, sat down, and kept quiet for a couple of minutes, whereafter he again flew up and took the earth some 20 meters from the nest, which he then rapidly approached walking and swimming hidden by aquatic plants and tufts. All this was done in order to mislead me, who was lying some 15 meters from the nest without any shelter and therefore seen by the bird all the while.

C. W. G. Eifrig (1905) found the red phalarope breeding very commonly around Cape Fullerton and Southampton Island, Hudson Bay. "They nest around fresh water ponds, laying their eggs, without nesting material, in depressions in the sand or moss, often in lichens." John Murdoch (1885), on the other hand, says, at Point Barrow, Alaska, that—

The nest is always in the grass, never in the black or mossy portions of the tundra, and usually in a pretty wet situation, though a nest was occasionally found high and dry, in a place where the nest of the pectoral sandpiper would be looked for. A favorite nesting site was a narrow grassy isthmus between two of the shallow ponds. The nest is a very slight affair of dried grass and always well concealed.

In the Kotzebue Sound region Joseph Grinnell (1900) found three nests, of which he says:

The nests were all on higher ground and at a distance of 100 yards or more from the lagoons where the birds usually congregated for feeding and social purposes. The three nests agreed in situation, being rather deep depressions sunk into the tops of mossy hummocks. There was a thin lining of dry grasses, and in one case the drooping blades from an adjoining clump of grass partially concealed the nest from view from above.

Miss Maud D. Haviland (1915) relates her experience with the nesting habits of this species, at the mouth of the Yenesei River, Siberia, as follows:

I found the first nest on Golchika Island early in July. My attention was called to it by the male bird, which flew round uneasily. Even when the nesting ground is invaded, this phalarope is very quiet and not very demonstrative. He flits round the intruder with a peculiar silent flight, rather like a big red moth, while he utters his chirruping alarm note—"zhit zhit." This call is shriller than that of Phalaropus lobatus, and quite recognizable where the two species breed side by side. I sat down on a log of driftwood, and in about half an hour was able to flush the bird from four fresh eggs. This nest, however, was not placed very well for photography, for about 50 yards away was a turf hut, which a Russian family had just taken possession of for the summer, and I dared not leave the hiding tent or apparatus near the spot. On the following day I was more fortunate, and found a nest which was also on the island but about half a verst away. It was in rather a dryer situation than the last, but like all the nests of this species that I saw, the eggs lay on quite a substantial platform of dead grass. In other cases the sites were so wet that the bird must have been sitting actually in water—and the photographer would have had to do likewise! In the photograph, the grass has been parted in order to show the eggs, but before this was done they were screened as carefully as the eggs of a redshank or reeve.

I pitched the tent at once, and went in to hide. The male phalarope stood on a tussock about 20 yards away and watched attentively, I should not thus have tackled the nest of any other wader, but I relied upon the confidence and simplicity of the phalarope, and I did not rely upon them in vain. In about 20 minutes I caught sight of the bird creeping round the tent, and a few minutes later he settled down upon the eggs. In this, my first glimpse of a grey phalarope at close quarters, two points struck me forcibly. One was the apparent extraordinary length of the bird. The single pair of legs in the middle seemed quite insufficient to support so long a body, and with his quaint perky gait, it seemed as if the bird swayed to and fro upon cee springs as he walked. The other was the peculiar harmony of the color of the mantle with the grass around, bleached or blackened by snow and thaw. The long, bladelike form of the secondary feathers, and the buff longitudinal shoulder bands seemed to emphasize the scheme until the bird was almost indistinguishable from his surroundings.

Herbert W. Brandt in his manuscript notes says:

The nest of the red phalarope is built either on dry ground or over shallow grass-grown water and is well concealed. Leading away from it usually are one or more runways which are either tunneled or open. The nest is fragile and very loosely made. The interior is moulded into a cup shape and the structure is made of grasses and often lined with moss stems, small leaves of the dwarf birch, cranberry, and other small, crisp leaves found there. Frequently, however, a simple depression in the moss or grass suffices to serve for the nursery. The range of measurements of 18 nests is: Height 3 to 5 inches; inside diameter 2½ to 3½ inches; depth of cavity, 2½ to 3 inches; but the nest is sometimes built up higher and is more substantial if placed directly over water. In fact, this little coot-footed bird sometimes builds a miniature cootlike nest. The male alone was noted building the nest, and he usually incubates, but on two occasions the female was observed on the eggs. The incubating bird is not a close sitter and departs from the nest long before the intruder arrives. In that jaeger-haunted land when the male phalarope returns to the nest he weaves so stealthily through the grass that it is almost impossible to follow his devious course so that two or three rapid charges are necessary by the watcher toward the supposed location of the nest before the incubating bird can finally be forced to rise directly from its eggs.

Eggs.—The red phalarope ordinarily lays four eggs, though three sometimes constitute a full set, and as many as six have been found in a nest, probably laid by two birds. They vary in shape from ovate pyriform to subpyriform and have a slight gloss. The prevailing ground colors range from "pale olive buff" to "dark olive buff"; in the darker sets they vary from "ecru olive" to "Isabella color"; in a few sets there is a greenish tinge approaching "light brownish olive". The markings are bold, sharply defined and irregular in shape; they are most numerous and often confluent at the larger end; but some eggs are finely speckled over the entire surface. The prevailing colors of the markings are dark browns, from "warm sepia" or "Vandyke brown" to "bone brown" or "clove brown." Some eggs are marked with lighter or brighter browns, "hazel," "russet," or even "tawny." The drab under markings are hardly noticeable. The measurements of 148 eggs in the United States National Museum average 31.5 by 22 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 35 by 22, 32 by 23 and 27.5 by 20.5 millimeters.

Young.—Authorities differ as to the period of incubation, which does not seem to have been definitely determined by anyone. Mr. Conover writes to me that "a nest located June 10, with three eggs, hatched on June 29." Incubation is performed almost wholly by the male, but Mr. Brandt (mss.) says: "The female, however, is, of course, the dominant member of the household, but she occasionally shares the cares of incubation, as I proved by collecting one from the nest; while later in the year I was successful in photographing a mother with a single chick. Perhaps it was a favorite child which she was taking for a walk while the father was mothering the rest of the family." Most observers agree that the male assumes full care of the young also; but Miss Haviland (1915) says: "It seems as if both male and female unite to care for the young, and when the breeding ground is approached they fly around and call anxiously." Probably the gaily dressed female is a poor mother at best and prefers to join the large flocks of her sex on the tundra pools.

Plumages.—The downy young red phalarope is the handsomest of its group, darker and more richly colored, as well as larger than the young northern phalarope. The upper parts show various shades of deep, warm brownish buff, darkest, "Sudan brown," on the crown, paling to "raw sienna," on the sides of the head, occiput, neck, thighs, and rump, and to "yellow ocher" on the rest of the upper parts; these colors shade off into "antimony yellow" or "warm buff" on the throat and breast and to buffy white on the belly; the down of the upper parts is tipped with black, except on the yellow ocher parts, and is basally dusky. It is boldly marked above with clear, velvety black; there is a large black patch back of the central crown patch of brown and a diminishing black stripe on each side of it; a narrow black stripe runs from the hill, over the eye, to the auriculars; another runs across the hind neck; a broad, but more or less broken and irregular, black stripe extends down the center of the back and a similar stripe down each side of it; there is also a large well-defined black patch on each side of the rump, above the thigh.

In fresh juvenal plumage, in August, the feathers of the crown, mantle, and scapulars are black, broadly edged with "ochraceous tawny"; the tertials, median wing coverts, upper tail coverts, and tail feathers are narrowly edged with paler shades of buff; the lesser wing coverts are narrowly edged with white; the forehead, lores, neck all around, upper breast, and flanks are suffused with grayish brown, varying from "fawn color" or "wood brown," on the throat, neck, and breast, to "vinaceous buff" on the head and flanks; the rest of the under parts are pure white. The sexes are alike in juvenal and winter plumages.

The tawny edgings of the upper plumage soon fade and wear away before the postjuvenal molt begins during August. I have seen birds in full juvenal plumage as late as September 15; the molt is usually not completed until late in October, but I have seen it well advanced by the middle of August. This molt includes nearly all of the contour plumage, but not the wings and tail, so that first-winter birds can be distinguished from adults by the juvenal wing coverts and tail.

The first prenuptial molt occurs mainly in April and May; it is sometimes completed by the last week in May, but more often not until early June; I have seen the full first-winter plumage retained until May 21. This molt involves the entire contour plumage, some wing coverts, and the tail; so that young birds in first nuptial plumage closely resemble adults and can be distinguished only by the presence of some old juvenal wing coverts. The sexes are quite unlike in this plumage and are probably ready to breed. Certain females, in which the black crown and white cheek patches are obscured with buff and rufous tints, but are otherwise in full plumage, are perhaps young birds.

At the following molt, the first postnuptial, the adult winter plumage is acquired, characterized by the bluish-gray mantle and the white under parts. This molt is complete; it begins in July and is sometimes completed in August, but more often it is prolonged into September or later. Adults have a partial molt in the spring, from March to May, involving the contour feathers, the tail, some of the tertials, and some of the wing coverts; the remiges are not molted, and some of the old scapulars are retained. The adult postnuptial molt, from July to December, is complete.

Food.—During the month or so that they are on their northern breeding grounds the red phalaropes are shore birds, feeding in the tundra pools or along the shores, but during the rest of the year they are essentially sea birds, feeding on or about the floating masses of kelp or seaweeds, or following the whales or schools of large fish; hence they are aptly called "sea geese," "whale birds," or "bowhead birds." They occasionally come in to brackish pools near the shore or rarely are seen on the sandy beaches or mud flats feeding with other shore birds. Outlying rocky islands are often favorite feeding places. Ludwig Kumlien (1879) writes:

Whalemen always watch these birds while they are wheeling around high in the air in graceful and rapid circles, for they know that as soon as they sight a whale blowing they start for him, and from their elevated position they can, of course, discern one at a much greater distance than the men in the boat I doubt if it be altogether the marine animals brought to the surface by the whale that they are after, for if the whale remains above the surface any length of time they always settle on his back and hunt parasites. One specimen was brought me by an Eskimo that he had killed on the back of an Orca gladiator; the esophagus was fairly crammed with Laernodipodian crustaceans, still alive, although the bird had been killed some hours; they looked to me like Caprella phasma and Cyamus ceti. According to the Eskimo who killed it, the birds were picking something from the whale's back, I have often seen them dart down among a school of Delphinapterous leucas and follow them as far as I could see. On one occasion a pair suddenly alighted astern of my boat and were not 3 feet from me at times; they followed directly in the wake of the boat, and seemed so intent on picking up food that they paid no attention whatever to us. They had probably mistaken the boat for a whale.

In northeastern Greenland, Manniche (1910) saw them hunt flying insects on land; he also says:

Some 20 analyses of stomachs proved that the phalaropes in the breeding season chiefly feed on small insects, principally gnats and larvae of these. The esophagus and stomachs of several birds killed were filled with larvae of gnats, which in vast multitudes live in the fresh-water ponds. In a few stomachs I also found fine indeterminable remnants of plants (Algae?).

W. Leon Dawson (1923) describes their feeding habits at the Farallones, as follows:

Three red phalaropes, all female I take it, although none of them in highest plumage, and one northern, also a female, just under "high," are pasturing at my feet in a brackish pool some 20 feet long, 10 feet wide, and 2 feet deep. The waters of the pool teem with a minute reddish crustacean (?) shaped like an ant, less than a thirty-second of an inch in length and incredibly nimble. The insects progress by leaps, and are visible only at the moment of arrival. Yet these birds gobble them up one at a time with unerring accuracy and with a rapidity which is nothing short of marvelous. The reds work habitually at the rate of five dabs per second, i. e., 300 a minute, while the northern, with a longer beak and a much daintier motion, works only half as fast.

The following observation was made on a California beach by Roland C. Ross (1922):

Kelp flies seemed to satisfy its sporting instincts and hunger, and the bird stalked them slowly and pointedly one by one. With bill and neck outstretched and lowered in line with a fly on the sand, a slow advance was made until with a pounce the hunt closed. If the fly escaped, the phalarope sometimes ran after it, bill out. Another pose interested me. On finding a kelp mass decaying and drawing flies, the phalarope approached closely and so low that his breast touched the ground, but the rear of the bird was high up. At times he would remain with breast down and pick at the flies much as a dusting fowl picks up a stray grain. Mr. L. E. Wyman reported similar "breast to ground" actions of two phalaropes he saw feeding by a kelp mass on the beach.

Alexander Wetmore (1925), in his report on the food of the red phalarope, analyzed the contents of 36 stomachs, mainly from the Pribilof Islands, with some from New York and Maine; they were collected from May to November, but mainly in August. Crustaceans made up 33.5 per cent of the food; beetles amounted to 27.3 per cent; flies formed 22.7 per cent; and 6.8 per cent consisted of tiny fishes, mostly sculpins. The food of this species therefore shows it to be harmless or neutral.

Behavior.—Phalaropes are active, lively birds in all their movements and they seem to be constantly on the move. They are all rapid fliers and this species is decidedly the swiftest on the wing of all three. As the restless flocks move about over the water, their aerial evolutions are well worth watching. Lucien M. Turner, in his Labrador notes, writes that he has seen them "ascend to a great height in increasing circles, darting in and out among each other and making a peculiar twitter as they ascend. When some suitable locality is discerned these birds descend almost perpendicularly and drop on the water as softly as a feather." They are so much like sandpipers in appearance and in manner of flight that one is always surprised to see them alight on the water.

Perhaps even more surprising than their peculiar marital relations are their aquatic habits. Their semipalmated and lobed toes are well adapted for swimming and the thick, compact plumage of their under parts protects them and buoys them up on the water. They float as lightly as corks, or as freshly fallen autumn leaves on a woodland pool, swimming swiftly and whirling rapidly, undisturbed by rushing currents or by foaming breakers. William Brewster (1925) has well described the behavior of a red phalarope on an inland stream at Umbagog Lake, Me.; he writes:

I strolled across a suspension footbridge that spans Bear River here, a shallow stream rippling over a rocky bed scarce 50 feet in width, beneath overhanging yellow birches and other deciduous trees. Returning a few minutes later I had reached the middle of the bridge when a grayish bird started directly under it and flew off down stream for a few rods, skimming close to the water and uttering a sharp whit, whit, which reminded me of the call of a spotted sandpiper concerned for the safety of its young. Almost at the first glance I recognized the bird as a red phalarope whose presence in such a place surprised me greatly, of course. Alighting, again, in the middle of the river it floated buoyantly and stemmed the swift current with apparent ease, although avoiding such exertion, whenever possible, by taking advantage of backward-flowing eddies. Presently it began working around the bases of some large boulders where it seemed to be obtaining abundant food by pecking rapidly and incessantly at their rough flanks, wetted by lapping waves. It also fed on the surface of the swirling eddies, paddling about very rapidly and in devious courses. It was most interesting to see a bird whose characteristic haunts, at least in autumn and winter, are boundless stretches of wind-swept ocean, thus disporting itself in a brawling mountain stream overarched by trees. Even a water ousel could not have appeared more perfectly at home there. Like most phalaropes this one was tame and confiding, but whenever I approached within 20 or 25 feet, it would rise and fly on a few yards, giving the whit call.

On land their movements are exceedingly rapid and graceful, though somewhat erratic; they run about excitedly with all the restless activity of sandpipers, nodding their heads with a pretty, dovelike motion. At such times they are remarkably tame, unsuspicious, and gentle birds; as they do not habitually come in contact with human beings, they are unafraid.

Voice.—The vocal performances of the red phalarope are not elaborate. As quoted above, Doctor Nelson (1887) describes its note as "a low and musical clink, clink, sounding very much like the noise made by lightly tapping together two small bars of steel." Mr. Brewster (1925) refers to the note as "an emphatic zip, zip, closely resembling that of Bonaparte's sandpiper ... but louder and mellower." Again he says: "Once they rose and flew about the pond precisely like small sandpipers, one of them uttering a peep-like tweet just as it left the water." Charles W. Townsend (1920) saw one which "emitted a whistle which was clear and pleasant at times, and again sharp and grating; at times the note could be expressed as a creak."

Field marks.—In its nuptial plumage the red phalarope can be easily recognized by its brilliant colors; the male is smaller, his colors are duller, and his breast is mixed with white. In its winter plumage, in which we usually see it, it is likely to be confused with the northern phalarope or the sanderling. It is larger than the former, more stockily built and has a shorter, thicker bill, which is yellowish at the base. From the sanderling it can be distinguished by the gray markings on the head and neck, which are mainly white in winter sanderlings, by the darker gray of the back and by the yellow at the base of the bill. Phalaropes are usually tame enough to allow close study of these details. John T. Nichols suggests to me the following additional field characters:

This phalarope holds its gray plumage well into the spring and adults quickly resume same when they go to sea in late summer. Around the first of August flocks offshore are in gray and white "winter" plumage, but a few birds have a peculiar pink tone appreciable on the underparts at fair range, apt to be strongest posteriorly, and which is diagnostic. It is caused by scattered old red feathers overlaid by the delicate tips of new white ones. The white wing stripe is somewhat broader in this than in the northern phalarope and in gray plumage the upper parts are of so pale a tone that the wing pattern appears faint, something as it does in the piping plover. What seems to be a late summer plumage of birds of the year, on the other hand, is less white than the corresponding one of the northern. As the bird sits on the water the sides of its neck, breast, and sides appear brownish (not red or pink), the only touch of whitish it shows is on the flanks. At close range a curved phalarope mark behind the eye is just indicated, corresponding to the bold contrasting mark in the northern.

Enemies.—Phalaropes are not considered game birds, as they are too small and too seldom seen in large numbers to warrant pursuing them; so man should not be counted among their enemies. On their Arctic breeding grounds they evidently have plenty of avian enemies, such as jaegers, gulls, and various gyrfalcons. Mr. Manniche (1910) writes:

The two phalaropes observed were evidently very much afraid of larger waders as for instance knots. Several times I saw them rush together in terror and lie motionless on the water with their heads pressed down to their backs until the supposed danger—a passing knot—was past; then they continued their meal or love-making. The only enemy of the full-grown birds is the gyrfalcon (Falco gyrfalco), which will surprise and capture them when lying on the water. This I succeeded in observing one day in summer 1907; just as I was observing a male phalarope, which swam along the beach of a little clear pond hardly two paces from my feet, I suddenly heard a strong whistling in the air and saw an old falcon, that from a dizzy height shot like an arrow towards the surface of the water, caught the phalarope and again rapidly rose in the air carrying the bird in its talons. I saw the bird of prey descend and settle on the summit of a rock near the bay in order to eat its prey. The method, with which the falcon carried out its exploit, proved that several phalaropes before had the same fate. The gyrfalcon can certainly not catch a phalarope in flight.

Nature, however, sometimes takes her toll, as the following observation on the coast of California reported by L. W. Welch (1922) will illustrate:

There was an unusual migration of red phalaropes (Phalaropus fulicarius) this past fall. I saw about three hundred within an hour on the ponds of the Long Beach Salt Works. This was October 30. There was a great mortality among them this year. Dead birds were brought to the schools picked up by children in the streets or elsewhere. On the ponds mentioned above, dead birds were washed up in windrows. I could count 19 from one position and 21 from another. I counted 75 within half an hour. The birds had no shot holes in them, and showed no external evidences of having flown against wires, but all the birds examined were emaciated in the extreme.

Mr. Brandt in his manuscript notes writes:

I was told that the natives look upon the flesh of the red phalarope as the greatest delicacy, and it is considered the choicest food that can be placed before an honored guest. The little native boys have, as their most prized mark, this red-brown target. Inasmuch as this bird inhabits the small ponds just outside the villages, the young hunters have always easily stalked game available. The children begin to hunt the red phalarope as soon as they are large enough to pull a bow string. The chase is so alluring that the older boys in my employ could not resist the temptation whenever presented, to grab a bow and arrow from the youngsters, and stalk this little bird. The chase is not one sided, however, as the phalarope is as quick as a flash, and like cupid's arrows, many shots fail to reach their mark.

Fall.—The red phalaropes are the last of the waders to leave their Arctic breeding grounds, lingering until the lakes and shores are closed with ice, often well into October. These loiterers are all young birds; the adults leave early and are sometimes seen off the coasts of the United States in July. F. S. Hersey and I collected one at Chatham, Mass., on July 4, 1921; this may have been a loiterer from the spring flight, but probably it was an early fall migrant.

The fall migration is usually well out at sea, often hundreds of miles from land. Kumlien (1879) writes:

These birds were met with at great distances from land. The first seen on our outward passage was on August 4, 1877, In latitude 41° N., longitude 68° W.; here large flocks were met with. As we proceeded northward, their numbers increased till we reached Grinnell Bay. Off the Amitook Islands, on the Labrador coast, 200 miles from the nearest land, I saw very large flocks during a strong gale.

William Palmer (1890) met with it in great abundance between Cape Sable and Cape Cod on August 30.

Off the coast of California the flight begins in July or early August and continues through the fall; a few birds linger through the winter from Monterey southward. Throughout the great interior of North America migration records are scattered, hardly more than casuals. It is interesting, however, to note that Audubon (1840) saw his first birds of this species on the Ohio River near Louisville, Kentucky, where he killed 17 at one shot. I have an adult male in my collection which was shot on the Taunton River, near my home, on August 12, 1913.

Winter.—Our knowledge of the winter home of our American birds of this species is rather meager. They have been traced as far south as the Falkland Islands in the Atlantic Ocean and Juan Fernandez in the Pacific. Probably they are scattered over the warmer portions of both oceans, wherever they can find an abundant food supply.

A number of phalaropes, almost certainly of this species, were observed by Mr. Nichols in the Atlantic, off Cape Lookout, March 22, 1926. "They may winter here or, what is equally likely, arrive in spring to find the same feed which attracts the mackerel to the capes of the Carolinas in March or April."

Aretas A. Saunders writes to me of a similar observation made by him off the coast of South Carolina on March 5, 1908:

That day red phalaropes were abundant on the water, though we were out of sight of land. The sea was calm with a glossy surface, but a slight swell and flocks of from 10 to 50 birds rose from in front of the boat, at intervals all morning. They flew in compact flocks, low over the water, and alighted again when some distance away.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—Arctic regions of both Old and New Worlds; south in winter to South Africa, India, China, and southern South America.

Breeding range.—In the Old World the red phalarope breeds on the Arctic coast from Iceland east to Nova Zembla, the Taimur Peninsula, and the islands and coast of Siberia to Bering Sea. The race, jourdaini, breeds in Spitsbergen, Iceland, and eastern Greenland.

In the Western Hemisphere the breeding range extends north to Alaska (probably St. Lawrence Island, Cape Prince of Wales, Cape Lowenstern, Point Barrow, and the Colville delta); Mackenzie (Rendezvous Lake and Franklin Bay); northern Franklin (Bay of Mercy, Winter Harbor, and Cape Liverpool); Grinnell Island (Fort Conger); and Greenland (Disco Bay, Godhavn, and probably Christianshaab). East to Greenland (Stormkap and probably Christianshaab); eastern Franklin (Exeter Sound, probably Nugumeute and Grinnell Bay); and Ungava (Port Burwell). South to Ungava (Port Burwell and probably Prince of Wales Sound); southern Franklin (Southampton Island and Cape Fullerton); and Alaska (Fort Egbert and Hooper Bay). West to Alaska (Hooper Bay, St. Michael, and probably St. Lawrence Island).

Winter range.—In the Eastern Hemisphere the winter range of the red phalarope seems to be principally at sea off the southern coast of Arabia and the west coast of Africa.

At this season in the Western Hemisphere it has been taken or observed north to Lower California (La Paz and Cape San Lucas); off the coast of Southern California (Point Pinos, Santa Cruz Islands, Anacapa Island, and San Diego); Alabama (Pickett Springs); Florida (Canaveral Light); and South Carolina (Mount Pleasant); and south to southern South America (Falkland Islands, Patagonia, and Chile).

Spring migration.—Early dates of arrival in North America are: North Carolina, Cape Lookout, May 29; Delaware, seen off the coast, May 9; New Jersey, Cape May, May 3, and Ocean City, May 6; New York, Shelter Island, March 25, and Montauk Point, April 30; Connecticut, Bridgeport, May 30; Massachusetts, Gloucester, April 2; Maine, York Beach, May 8; Nova Scotia, Halifax, June 10; Quebec, Prince of Wales Sound, May 31; Washington, Destruction Island lighthouse, May 8; and Alaska, Cape Constantine, May 15, Kodiak Island, May 16, near Kotlik, May 28, Prince Frederick Sound, May 29, and Point Barrow, June 3.

Fall migration.—Late dates of departure in the fall are: Alaska, Chatham Straits, September 9, Becharof Lake, October 6, Point Barrow, October 10, St. Michael, October 14, and Kodiak Island, November 4; Washington, Ilwaco, November 9, and Shoalwater Bay, November 24; California, Berkeley, October 27, Point Reyes, November 22, and Santa Barbara, November 30; Labrador, West Ste. Modiste, September 13; Prince Edward Island, North River, November 20; Nova Scotia, off the coast, September 16; Maine, Westbrook, September 26, Old Orchard, October 5, and Portland, October 16; Massachusetts, North Truro, October 15, near Nantucket, October 25, and Boston, December 30; Connecticut, Portland, October 21, and East Haven, November 24; New York, Oneida Lake, October 4, Branchport, October 12, Orient Point, October 15, Cayuga Lake, October 18, and Montauk Point, November 27; Maryland, White's Ferry, October 4; District of Columbia, Anacostia River, October 17; and Virginia, Blacksburg, September 21.

Casual records.—The red phalarope is rare or irregular anywhere in the interior but it has nevertheless been detected over wide areas on several occasions. Among these records are: Vermont, Woodstock, November 10, 1916; Pennsylvania, Bucks County, December 15, 1918; Ohio, Painesville, November 9, 1923; Ontario, Ottawa, October 21, 1886, and Hamilton, November 17, 1882; Michigan, Monroe, October 24, 1888, and October 25, 1890; Indiana, Jasper County, April 10, 1885, and Terre Haute, October 23, 1889; Wisconsin, Lake Koshkonong, September 3, 1891, Delavan, October 11, 1902, and near Cedar Grove, October 8, 1921; Kentucky, near Louisville, latter part of October, 1808; South Dakota, one taken near Rapid City (date unknown); Kansas, near Lawrence, November 5, 1905; Wyoming, Laramie Plains, fall of 1897; Colorado, Loveland, July 25, 1895; and Texas, Wise County, September 26, 1893. It also has been taken once in New Zealand, at Waimate, South Island, in June, 1883.

Egg dates.—Alaska: 152 records, May 25 to July 13; 76 records, June 14 to 30. Arctic Canada: 14 records, June 21 to July 14; 7 records, June 24 to July 6. Spitsbergen: 22 records, June 24 to July 18; 11 records, June 28 to July 11. Iceland: 17 records, June 1 to 25; 9 records, June 14 to 22.

LOBIPES LOBATUS (Linnaeus)
NORTHERN PHALAROPE

HABITS

This is the smallest, the most abundant, and the most widely distributed of the phalaropes; consequently it is the best known. Its breeding range is circumpolar, but extends much farther south than that of the red phalarope; it might be called sub-Arctic rather than Arctic. There seems to be only one homogeneous species around the world. It resembles the red phalarope in its habits, but is more often seen on inland waters than is that species.

Spring.—Countless thousands of these dainty little birds migrate northward off both coasts of North America in May, but very few ever come ashore except in bad weather. While cruising off the coast, 10 or more miles from land, one is likely to see them flying about in flocks, after the manner of small sandpipers, flitting about and alighting on drifting masses of seaweed or other flotsam, or swimming lightly on the smooth surface of the sea, darting hither and thither in a most erratic way, each seemingly intent on gathering its tiny bits of food. They are gentle, graceful, and charming little birds and well worth watching.

There is also a heavy northward migration through the interior during May. In Saskatchewan I saw a large flock at Quill Lake on May 28, 1917; and in the Crane Lake region we recorded it as an abundant migrant; it was seen migrating, on May 29, 1905, in large flocks with sanderlings; one was seen at Hay Lake on June 15; and two were taken on June 14, 1906, at Big Stick Lake, which were in breeding condition. C. G. Harrold writes to me that it is a common and rather late migrant in Manitoba. William Rowan's notes contain several references to the enormous flocks which pass Beaverhill Lake, Alberta, in May, mostly during the last two weeks.

Dr. E. W. Nelson (1887) has given us the following attractive account of the arrival of these birds in northern Alaska:

As summer approaches on the Arctic shores and coast of Bering Sea the numberless pools, until now hidden under a snowy covering, become bordered or covered with water; the mud about their edges begins to soften, and through the water the melting ice in the bottom looks pale green. The ducks and geese fill the air with their loud resounding cries, and the rapid wing strokes of arriving and departing flocks add a heavy bass to the chorus which greets the opening of another glad season in the wilds of the cheerless north. Amid this loud-tongued multitude suddenly appears the graceful, fairylike form of the northern phalarope. Perhaps, as the hunter sits by the border of a secluded pool still half covered with snow and ice, a pair of slight wings flit before him, and there, riding on the water, scarcely making a ripple, floats this charming and elegant bird. It glides hither and thither on the water, apparently drifted by its fancy, and skims about the pool like an autumn leaf wafted before the playful zephyrs on some embosomed lakelet in the forest. The delicate tints and slender fragile form, combining grace of color and outline with a peculiarly dainty elegance of motion, render this the most lovely and attractive among its handsome congeners.

The first arrivals reach St. Michaels in full plumage from May 14 to 15, and their number is steadily augmented, until, the last few days of May and 1st of June, they are on hand in full force and ready to set about the season's cares. Every pool now has from one to several pairs of these birds gliding in restless zigzag motion around its border, the slender necks at times darting quickly right or left as the bright black eyes catch sight of some minute particle of food. They may be watched with pleasure for hours, and present a picture of exquisite gentleness which renders them an unfailing source of interest. The female of this bird, as is the case with the two allied species, is much more richly colored than the male and possesses all the "rights" demanded by the most radical reformers.

Courtship.—The same gifted writer goes on to say:

As the season comes on when the flames of love mount high, the dull-colored male moves about the pool, apparently heedless of the surrounding fair ones. Such stoical indifference usually appears too much for the feelings of some of the fair ones to bear. A female coyly glides close to him and bows her head in pretty submissiveness, but he turns away, pecks at a bit of food and moves off; she follows and he quickens his speed, but in vain; he is her choice, and she proudly arches her neck and in mazy circles passes and repasses close before the harassed bachelor. He turns his breast first to one side, then to the other, as though to escape, but there is his gentle wooer ever pressing her suit before him. Frequently he takes flight to another part of the pool, all to no purpose. If with affected indifference he tries to feed, she swims along side by side, almost touching him, and at intervals rises on wing above him and, poised a foot or two over his back, makes a half dozen quick, sharp wing strokes, producing a series of sharp, whistling noises in rapid succession. In the course of time it is said that water will wear the hardest rock, and it is certain that time and importunity have their full effect upon the male of this phalarope, and soon all are comfortably married, while mater familias no longer needs to use her seductive ways and charming blandishments to draw his notice.

Mrs. Audrey Gordon (1921) made some interesting observations on the courtship of the red-necked phalarope, as this species is called abroad; she writes of her experiences in the Hebrides:

Three pairs were apparently in process of courting and their behavior was most interesting. Both cocks and hens were swimming in the water near the shore or in pools among the rushes. Suddenly a hen would raise herself in the water and flutter her wings at a great pace with her head held down and neck outstretched, all the while uttering a curious harsh call. She would then pursue the cock rapidly through the water for a few yards as though trying to attract his attention. At times the cock rose from the water and flew round about the pool where the hen was, with a low erratic flight and very slow wing beats, calling as he flew. This display only lasted a minute, when he would again alight on the water. Once after this flight the hen followed him closely and he turned and seemed to be about to mate her, but she would not let him. I saw no more on this occasion, but on June 18 I watched two hens and one cock in a pool. One of the hens kept close to the cock and whenever the other hen came nearer she would chase her away. Both the cock and the hen were seen to stand up in the water and flutter their wings as described above. The cock seemed to pay little attention to the hens and was busy pursuing, and picking up off the water, large black flies. Then, without any warning or unusual excitement on the part of either cock or hen, the nearest one to the cock suddenly put her head low down in the water with neck outstretched and made a curious single note. The cock at once swam to her and mating took place, the hen being submerged in the water except for her beautiful red neck. The cock fluttered his wings all the time; he then went ashore into the grasses. The second hen still kept in the neighborhood, though I imagine she must have realized she had lost her chance of a mate.

P. H. Bahr (1907) throws some light on the peculiar sexual relations of this species; he says:

On the 5th of June we watched the phenomena of polygamy, and of attempted polyandry in this species. At one end of the loch the former condition held sway, two energetic and quarrelsome females having attached themselves to one miserable-looking male, and it was ludicrous to behold the awe in which he held them. Once in particular he nearly swam between my legs in his efforts to avoid their attentions. Till our departure on the 27th, these three birds were constantly to be seen together. At the other end of the loch two males were seen continuously circling round the head of a female. I frequently observed the male performing evolutions, which I have previously described as the "marriage flight." Zigzagging from side to side with amazing rapidity he would hover with dangling legs over the head of the female, who, circling placidly in the water, appeared to take no notice of his attentions. Then settling beside her he would peck and chase her as if endeavoring to make her take to flight. Failing in this he would dash off once more across the marsh uttering a warbling sort of song much like that of the ringed plover. Then he would settle in a reedy spot, such as would be chosen for the nesting site, and would call vigorously, looking always in the direction of the female, as if expecting her to follow. I observed several pairs, behaving in this manner, and such was their fervor that the males continued this performance even in the midst of one of the worst storms we experienced. Often the female would resent these attentions, and a pitched battle would ensue.

Herbert W. Brandt (mss.) writes:

It is very interesting to watch a struggle between two female northern phalaropes over a solitary male. They fight by the hour, not after the manner of the males, which rush at each other and boldly lock in a mortal combat, but rather these females fight by flipping their wings and pecking at each other instead of laying hold with determination. This can be likened only to a feminine hair-pulling episode. One day I watched such a combat for an hour, and there were numerous occasions on which I thought that one of the birds would succumb; but the contest seemed to be very equal, and when a bird recovered from a hard onslaught it would return at once and take up the wing sparring. They would flutter here and there over the ground, first one then the other attacking, closely followed all the time by the shy but neutral male, the prize of the conflict. Natives informed me that they had never known of one's being killed by the other, but that the birds would fight all day long.

Nesting.—My personal experience with the nesting habits of the northern phalarope has been limited to what few nests we found in the Aleutian Islands in 1911. These birds were very scarce or entirely absent in the eastern half of the chain. We saw a few on Atka Island where several nests, with fresh eggs or incomplete sets, were found on June 18. On Kiska Island they were really abundant and we found them breeding about the small grassy ponds and wet meadows; fresh eggs were found on June 21. Their favorite resorts all through the western part of the chain were the wetter portions of the flat alluvial plains, near the mouths of the streams and about the marshy ponds. They were very tame everywhere and, about the ponds where they were breeding, they were very solicitous and noisy. Their simple nests were merely deep, little hollows, lined with a few bits of grass, in the little mounds or tussocks in the wet meadows around the borders of the ponds or near the small streams.

F. S. Hersey collected several sets of eggs for me near St. Michael, Alaska, in 1914 and 1915; most of the nests were in rather wet situations on the tundra, in or near marshy places, rather poorly concealed and scantily lined with grasses; others were well hidden in the clumps of scanty grass, or deeply sunken into the tundra mosses and lined with bits of leaves or well lined with grasses. Other observers have described the nesting habits of this species substantially as indicated above, except that Henry H. Slater (1898), who has "encountered 45 nests with eggs in them in one day, and considerably more than a hundred altogether", describes the nest as "a deep comfortable cup, concealed in a tuft of grass, or under a trailing branch of some dwarf Arctic shrub."

Eggs.—The northern phalarope lays four eggs almost invariably, rarely three eggs constitute a second set; as many as five and even seven eggs have been found in a nest, the largest number being the product of two females. The eggs vary in shape from subpyriform to ovate pyriform, are slightly glossy and are very fragile. The prevalent ground colors range from "pale olive buff" to "dark olive buff" or "ecru olive;" "olive buff" seems to be the commonest shade. In richly colored sets the colors range from "Isabella color," or "Dresden brown" to "buckthorn brown;" and in light buffy sets from "cream buff" to "cream color." The size, type, and arrangement of markings vary greatly in endless patterns. Some eggs, perhaps only one in a set, are evenly covered with small spots or dots, but more often these are mixed with larger, irregular spots or blotches. Some eggs are boldly marked with large irregular blotches. The colors of the markings range from "sepia," or "warm sepia," and "bister" to deep blackish brown, depending on the depth of the pigment. The underlying spots, in various drab shades, are small, inconspicuous and not numerous. In my series of over 50 sets there are two abnormal eggs; one is plain bluish white and unmarked; and another is similar except for one large blotch of "sepia" covering the large end. The measurements of 119 eggs, in the United States National Museum, average 29 by 20 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 33 by 21, 28 by 22.5, 27 by 19, and 31 by 18.5 millimeters.

Young.—The period of incubation does not seem to be definitely known, but probably it is not far from 21 days. A set of four eggs found by H. B. Conover on June 10 hatched on the evening of June 30. Incubation is performed largely, but perhaps not wholly, by the male. H. H. Slater (1898) writes:

Jerdon asserts that the females (of all the phalaropes presumably) leave the care of the nests to the males and lead a club life in separate flocks. In the present species I have not found the sex to be so much "emancipated." I have never shot the red-necked phalarope off the nest, often as I have had a chance to do so, nor have I seen bare hatching spots on the breasts of either sex. I have no doubt that the males are the most attentive parents, but in the case of isolated nests the second bird makes its appearance before you have been there long, and I have repeatedly seen both with the young. In fact, I should have said that of all the birds I know the present species is the most connubial, and the mutual devotion of a pair is a most charming thing to see—in fact, quite touching. When not actively employed they treat themselves, and one another, to all manner of pretty and playful endearments.

Hugh S. Gladstone (1907) says:

Incubation is performed mostly, if not entirely, by the male. I flushed females off nests on two occasions, but in one case the full complement of eggs was not yet laid, and in the other I think they were only newly laid. The ground color of the eggs varied from stone to olive, and in one nest all four eggs were remarkably rotund. They take some 18 days to hatch, and only one brood is hatched in the season, though if the first sitting is destroyed the bird will lay again. The nestlings, although they can not fly for some days, are wonderfully precocious and can swim immediately. Their beautiful golden downy plumage becomes paler and paler, even after the first 24 hours.

When the nest contains eggs the female bird shows the greatest anxiety. She can be seen swimming about in the pools; or, rising without any splash, flying up and down quite close to one, uttering a low cry of "plip, plip," varied by a hoarse "chiss-ick." This cry warns the male, which never flies off the nest, but always creeps through the grass and rushes, to some pool, near one of which the nest is invariably placed. Here he will soon be joined by the female, and they will swim about trying to hide their anxiety by preening their feathers or pretending to feed.

Some observers have said that the young do not take to the water until they are fully fledged, but Mr. Hersey's notes say that: "They run lightly over the beaten down masses of grass around the tundra ponds and when they know they are discovered take to the water and swim as well as their parents."

Doctor Nelson (1887) writes:

Fresh eggs are rarely found after June 20th, and by the middle to 20th of July the young are fledged and on the wing. By the 12th to 15th of July a few of the ashy feathers of the autumnal plumage appear, and soon after old and young begin to gather in parties of from five to a hundred or more, and seek the edges of large ponds and flats or the muddy parts of the coast and borders of tide creeks. During August and September they are found on the bays, and the last are seen about the last of September or first of October.

Plumages.—The general color pattern of the downy young northern phalarope is similar to that of the red phalarope, but it differs in some details and the colors are lighter and more yellowish above. The colors vary from "ochraceous tawny," on the crown and rump, to "antimony yellow," on the rest of the upper parts, and to "Naples yellow" on the throat. The underparts are more extensively grayish white than in the preceding species and there is considerable whitish between the black stripes on the back. There is more black in the crown, which is nearly surrounded by it, and the black terminates in a point on the nape. A very narrow black line runs from the bill to the eye; and there is a black auricular patch. The central black stripe on the back is broad, but the side stripes are narrow, and there are extensive black patches on thighs and wings.

I have seen no specimens showing the progress of development of the juvenal plumage. In the full juvenal plumage in August, the crown, occiput, and a space around the eye are black, the former faintly mottled with buff; the remainder of the head, throat, and under parts are white, more or less suffused with "light cinnamon drab" and gray on the sides of the neck, breast, and flanks; the feathers of the back and scapulars are brownish black, broadly edged with bright "ochraceous tawny," which gradually fades; some of the tertials are narrowly edged with the same color; the median and inner greater wing coverts and the central tail feathers are narrowly edged with pale buff or white.

A partial molt of the body plumage in September and October produces the first winter plumage, which is like that of the winter adult, except that the juvenal wings are retained. The sexes are alike in the juvenal and all winter plumages. A partial prenuptial molt, from February to June, involving the body plumage, some of the wing coverts and scapulars and the tail, produces the first nuptial plumage, in which the sexes differ, and which is nearly, if not quite, indistinguishable from that of the adult.

Adults have a complete molt from July to October and an incomplete molt from February to June, similar to that of the young bird, producing the distinct and well-known winter and nuptial plumages.

Food.—The northern phalarope obtains most of its food in the water, on the ocean or in bays or in brackish pools or in fresh-water ponds. Its characteristic and best-known method of feeding, on which many observers have commented, is to swim rapidly about in a small circle or to spin around in one spot, by alternate strokes of its lobed feet; this quick whirling action is supposed to stir up the minute forms of animal life on which it feeds and bring them within reach of its needlelike bill, which it jabs into the water two or three times during each revolution; the spinning motion is often very rapid and sometimes quite prolonged, a curious performance to watch. We saw this many times in the Aleutian Islands where small flocks were constantly seen spinning around about the old piers or feeding in the surf off the beaches where they floated buoyantly over the little waves or fluttered over the crests of the small breakers.

William Brewster (1925) describes an interesting feeding performance, at Umbagog Lake, Maine, as follows:

Alighting again, about 100 yards off, it began fluttering about in circles, now narrowly clearing the water for a yard or two, next hitting against or skittering over the surface, acting indeed, for all the world like some enfeebled butterfly or clumsy moth, alternately attracted and repelled by a forest pool lying in deep shadow. This singular performance was occasionally varied by more pronounced upward flights, extending to a height of several feet, and apparently undertaken in pursuit of flying insects, passing overhead.

Both the northern and the red phalaropes feed in large numbers at sea, often being associated together; their favorite feeding places are in the tide rips, on or around floating masses of seaweed, in the vicinity of whales or near schools of fish. George H. Mackay (1894) writes:

On May 25, 1894, about 10,000 (as carefully estimated) were observed resting on the water around the "pigs" (rocks lying off Swampscott), occupying an area of about a mile radius. They were feeding on the red whale bait (brit) some of which was taken from them. I am informed that these birds follow the mackerel, which also feed on this brit, by their pursuit of which it is driven to the surface, and is then obtainable by the birds. I am also told that in the Bay of Fundy the phalaropes so frighten the mackerel when they come to the surface in pursuit of the brit, that the fish sink themselves. To prevent this, the fishermen carry at times quantities of liver cut up, which they throw out to attract these birds and keep them away from the fish in order that they may be better able to capture the latter.

Dr. Alexander Wetmore (1925), in his report on the food of the northern phalarope, gives the results of the examination of 155 stomachs, collected in Alaska and in the United States, from May to October, inclusive; flies and the larvae of mosquitoes were the largest element, 32.8 per cent; the true bugs (Hemiptera) came next, 31.8 per cent, including water boatmen and back swimmers; beetles represented 16.5 and crustaceans 9.3 per cent; the remainder contained dragonfly nymphs, spiders, marine worms, small mollusks, a few small fishes and a few seeds. Various other insects and their larvae, many of which are injurious, are included in the food of this bird.

Behavior.—In flight these phalaropes remind one of the smaller sandpipers; their flight is swift and often erratic; when flying in flocks they twist and turn and wheel back and forth like a flock of peeps, flashing white or dark gray, as breasts or backs are turned toward the observer. Mr. Brewster (1883) has seen them pitch "down from a considerable height with closed wings, much as snipe will do under similar circumstances." Again he (1925) speaks of seeing one "rise abruptly to a height of 15 or 20 feet, and poise there for a moment, beating its wings and shaking its tail in a violent and peculiar manner."

It is while swimming on smooth water that the northern phalarope seems most at home, most graceful, charming, and confiding; it is usually very tame and easily approached, but sometimes, especially when in large flocks, it seems to be afraid of a boat and keeps beyond gun range. It swims lightly as a cork, its thick coat of breast feathers giving it great buoyancy, its head is held high and carried with a graceful nodding motion. When a flock alights on the water, the individuals soon scatter and swim about rapidly and independently in zigzag lines or circles, jabbing their bills into the water in a nervous and excited manner. I have never seen them dive and doubt if they can do so, as they seem to have great difficulty in getting under water, even to bathe. They frequently alight on floating masses of seaweed, where they run about and feed with all the nervous activity of small sandpipers on a mud flat. Roland C. Ross (1924) made some interesting observations in southern California; he writes:

"The northern phalarope is quite fearless in this region, but seldom does one find the birds so confiding as in the following instance: Mr. Ray Francisco, the warden for the gun club on this marsh, was working in water a foot or two deep, pulling out sedges, dock, and arrow-weed. The northern phalaropes took an interest in this roiled up water and drew close to dab at the surface and "whirligig" about in their unique way. As the man kept at work they drew nearer until actually about his feet. They stayed with him until he stopped work in that section. They were observed sleeping on land and water, bill along the back under a wing. Their ablutions were absurd attempts to get a swanlike breast and neck under water, when such airy grace and buoyancy forbade any subaquatic ventures. To get the proper ducking the phalarope stretches up and drives his pretty head and breast down in the water, which effort promptly forces his tail end up; whereupon like a cork he rebounds, to ride high and dry above the water with hardly a sign of moisture on the close-fitting plumage. At once he jerks up and ducks again, and again, all to little avail, seemingly. This up-jerk and ducking motion can be observed at a good distance, and the birds may be identified by it."

A curious little incident, observed in the Hebrides by Misses Best and Haviland (1914), is thus described:

On the south side of the loch, just where we had seen the pair of birds on our previous visit, we found a male and female in the long herbage at the water side. Perhaps we ought to reverse the usual order and say female and male, for the traditional dominance of the masculine sex is entirely unknown in this species. Certainly this cock bird was a most henpecked little fowl. Possibly he had been captured immediately on his arrival from the sea. At any rate, he was apparently tired out, and whenever the hen stopped, as she frequently did, to preen herself or feed, he sat down where he was, and tucking his bill under his feathers, went to sleep. Before he had dozed for more than a minute, however, the female would peck him awake, and, calling querulously, force him to follow her while she led the way through the marsh. Now and then she flew at him and chased him about, as if losing patience. This little scene was repeated three or four times, and the birds were so confiding that we were able to photograph them in the act.

Aretas A. Saunders writes to me:

I watched flocks of these birds on a small pond near the Priest Butte Lakes, in Seton County, Mont. They flew to the pond in a compact flock, scattered over the pond to feed, and evidently gathered insects from the surface of the water. When frightened by the approach of a marsh hawk the birds all rose, quickly formed the compact flock and flew away, returning later when the hawk had gone.

Voice.—The vocal performances of this little phalarope are not elaborate or striking. As it rises from the water it utters a plaintive and rather faint twittering note of one, two or three syllables, which has been variously noted as tchip, or tchep, or pe-et, or pleep, or wit, wit, or quet, quet. Charles W. Townsend (1920) says that it has a variety of notes. At times it twitters like a barn swallow, at times it emits a single harsh note like that of the eave swallow. Again a gentle ee-ep is emitted, or a sharp quip. According to Witherby's Handbook (1920), "Gladstone describes alarm note as a hoarse chiss-ick, and Aplin speaks of a short quit, a rapid ket-ket, ket-ket. and chirra-chirra-chirra at nesting places."

Field marks.—The northern is the smallest of the three phalaropes. It is the one most likely to be seen on inland ponds, except where the Wilson phalarope is common; but the latter is much larger and lighter colored, especially in fall and winter. The best field marks are small size, small head, slender neck and needlelike bill. The upper parts are blackish or dark gray (not pearly gray, as in the others) and in flight a white stripe shows conspicuously near the posterior border of the wing.

Fall.—Northern phalaropes are very abundant during August and September off the coasts of New England, but they seldom come near shore, except in severe storms. The main migration route is so far off shore, south of Cape Cod, that these birds are seldom seen in the Atlantic coast south of New England.

There is a heavy fall migration throughout the interior, which begins quite early. We found them abundant on both migrations in Saskatchewan and Alberta. After I left, Dr. L. B. Bishop saw a flock of 100 at Many Island Lake, Alberta, on July 13, 1905, the beginning of the fall migration; they were still more abundant at Big Stick Lake, Saskatchewan, on the 19th; nearly all of the birds taken on these two dates were adult females; many males were probably still tending broods of young. A. G. Lawrence writes to me that these birds are fairly common transients in southern Manitoba, from August 15 to the end of September.

H. L. Stoddard (1923) has published the following note:

Occasionally in August and September of past years large flocks of small shore birds have been seen a long way offshore in the sand-dune region of southern Lake Michigan circling and wheeling, flashing alternately snow-white breasts and darker backs. Long-range examination with binoculars showed rather prominent whitish wing bars, but the identity of the birds was never satisfactorily determined until the afternoon of August 28, 1921, when the writer was camping at the mouth of the above-mentioned Bar Creek, in Sheboygan County, Wis. About 2 o'clock in the afternoon a light fog drifted in, and soon after large numbers of small shore birds, similar in actions and appearance to those mentioned, were sighted executing extraordinary maneuvers close to the surface of the water about 500 yards out. They circled and recircled, turned and twisted, some of the flocks finally alighting in some smooth streaks in the water inshore of a long line of net stakes that extended about a mile out. Fully 500 of the birds, now recognized as phalaropes, were in sight. One specimen, a female in fall plumage, was finally secured by tying the shotgun onto driftwood pieces and swimming out among them. They were in no way disturbed at my presence until a shot was fired, and I fully satisfied myself that the bulk of the flock were of the same species as the one secured, northern phalaropes.

J. A. Munro tells me that these birds are irregular fall migrants at Okanagan Landing, British Columbia, from July 28 to September 18. Along the California coast the fall migration is heavy and prolonged from the latter part of July until late October or early November, the bulk of the flight passing during August and September. Grinnell, Bryant, and Storer (1918) say:

Heavy winds on the ocean sometimes prove disastrous to the migrating hosts of northern phalaropes. Chapman records finding many bodies of this species in the tide pools of the Farallon Islands. A heavy northwest wind had been blowing along the coast for the previous two weeks, and many of the birds had resorted to inland pools of water. The emaciated condition of the birds at the Farallones was probably due to their inability to procure food while on the open ocean in migration. Forbush records numbers of these birds as being killed on the Atlantic coast by dashing against lighthouses at night. In the Cape Region of Lower California, Brewster found that "most of the birds examined had lost one or more toes, and two or three an entire foot, and part of the tarsus also, while others showed gaping wounds on the breast. These mutilations were probably caused by the bites of fishes." Emerson records finding several of these birds killed by flying against the telephone wires strung across the salt ponds on the marshes west of Hayward, and says that very many of this and other species of birds are killed in this manner.

Winter.—Practically nothing is known about the winter home of this species in the Western Hemisphere. It is evidently south of the borders of the United States and probably south of the Equator on the open ocean. The few straggling winter records for California and South America give but a scant clue to the winter resorts of the vast numbers that pass us on migrations.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—Distributed over both Old and New Worlds.

Breeding range.—Arctic regions of both hemispheres. In Europe and Asia the breeding range of the northern phalarope extends from Iceland, Spitsbergen, and Scandinavia, across northern Russia and Siberia to Bering Sea. South to Sakhalin Island, southern Russia (Orenburg), and the Outer Hebrides, Shetland, and Orkney Islands.

In North America the breeding range extends north to Alaska (Near Islands, St. Paul Island, Nelson Island, Pastolik, St. Michael, probably Golofin Bay, the Kowak Valley, Cape Blossom, Point Hope, Point Barrow, and the Gens de Large Mountains); Mackenzie (Franklin Bay); Keewatin (Cape Eskimo); probably Baffin Island (Cumberland Sound); and Greenland (North Star Bay, Upernavik and Jacob's Bight). East to Greenland (Disko Island); Labrador (Nain and Hopedale); and western Quebec (Fort George and Rupert House). South to western Quebec (Rupert House); northern Manitoba (York Factory and Fort Churchill); Mackenzie (Artillery Lake and Fort Rae); and Alaska (Nushagak and Kiska Island). West to Alaska (Kiska and Near Islands).

Winter range.—The winter range of the European and Asiatic birds appears to extend south to southern Japan, the north coast of New Guinea, Ceram, the coast of Beluchistan, the east coast of Arabia, and probably points in the northern part of the Indian Ocean.

The winter range of North American breeding birds of this species is more or less imperfectly known, and they are believed to winter largely at sea. It has been reported as wintering in southern California; it has been taken or observed in Costa Rica (Desamparados) and Peru (Tumbez); there is a specimen in the museum at Buenos Aires, Argentina, that was taken in Patagonia.

Spring migration.—Early dates of arrival in North America are: Florida, 175 miles west of Tampa, March 14; Bermuda Islands, March 18; South Carolina, near Chester, May 17; North Carolina, Cape Lookout, April 3; Maryland, Cumberland, May 23; New Jersey, 80 miles off Barnegat, May 6, and Cape May County, May 22; New York, Long Cave, April 2, Montauk Point, April 30, and Branchport, May 16; Connecticut, Quinnipiac Marshes, May 21; Massachusetts, near Boston, May 5, Marthas Vineyard, May 6, and Provincetown, May 21; Maine, near Milo, May 3; Quebec, Godbout, May 27; Nova Scotia, Halifax, May 12; Ohio, Youngstown, May 26; Nebraska, Lincoln, May 10; Manitoba, Shoal Lake, May 19; Saskatchewan, Indian Head, May 15, Osler, May 13, and Dinsmore, May 30; Colorado, Loveland, May 1, Denver, May 17, and Middle Park, May 26; Montana, Big Sandy, May 18, and Terry, May 21; Alberta, Beaverhill Lake, May 7; California, Monterey, April 9, Santa Barbara, April 24, Fresno, May 5, Los Banos, May 19, and Santa Cruz, May 22; Oregon, Klamath Falls, April 17, Malheur Lake, April 26, and Newport, April 30; Washington, Destruction Island Lighthouse, April 27, Shoalwater Bay, May 9, and Olympia, May 13; British Columbia, Okanagan Landing, May 18, and Mabel Lake, May 25; Yukon, Forty-mile, May 3; Alaska, Fort Kenia, May 3, Bethel, May 19, Kowak River, May 22, Igushik, May 23, St. Michael, May 14, Fort Yukon, June 1, and Point Barrow, June 11; and Greenland, North Star Bay, June 14.

Fall migration.—Late dates of departure are: Alaska, Pribilof Islands, August 31, Port Clarence, September 6, and Okutan, September 17; British Columbia, Okanagan Landing, October 15; Washington, Clallam Bay, October 28; Oregon, Oswego, September 25; California, Fresno, October 6, Watsonville, October 20, and Monterey, October 24; Montana, Priest Butte Lakes, September 4, Columbia Falls, September 13, and Corvallis, September 20; Idaho, Salmon River Mountains, September 5; Wyoming, Fort Washakie, September 13, and Yellowstone Park, September 18; Colorado, near Denver, October 13; Manitoba, Whitewater Lake, September 9, and Shoal Lake, September 21; North Dakota, Stump Lake, September 2; Nebraska, Lincoln, October 26; Minnesota, St. Vincent, August 31; Wisconsin, near Cedar Grove, September 23; Ontario, Ottawa, October 12; Ohio, Youngstown, October 9; Newfoundland, October 11; Ungava, mouth of the Koksoak River, September 19; Maine, near Pittsfield, September 3; New Hampshire, Lonesome Lake, September 22, Lancaster, October 8, and Dublin Pond, October 13; Massachusetts, Nantucket, September 20, near Springfield, September 23, Swampscott, September 26, Harvard, October 5, and Ware, October 13; Connecticut, Hartford, September 27; New York, Branchport, September 15, Athol Spring, September 24, Oneida Lake, September 21, Ithaca, September 27, Flushing, September 29, and Montauk Point, October 22; New Jersey, Stone Harbor, September 4, near Tuckerton, September 13, and 5-fathom Beach Light, October 12; Pennsylvania, Pittston, September 2, Beaver, September 26, Carlisle, October 1, and Erie, October 10; District of Columbia, Washington, August 31; West Virginia, near Parkersburg, September 26; North Carolina, Bladen County, September 23; and South Carolina, Frogmore, September 25, and Sea Islands, October 25.

Casual records.—The northern phalarope is apparently less common in the Mississippi Valley and the Southwest. Some records in these regions are: Michigan, Lenawee County, September 14, 1899, near Forestville, October 4, 1911, and October 28, 1911; Indiana, Fort Wayne, June 7, 1889; Illinois, Calumet Lake, September 27, 1903; Iowa, Burlington, August 10, 1894, and Omaha, May 6, 1896; Missouri, near St. Louis, October 9, 1878; Kansas, May 25, 1883; New Mexico, Las Vegas, August 31, 1903; and Arizona, Walker Lake, August 19, 1889.

Egg dates.—Alaska: 83 records, May 20 to July 23; 42 records, June 12 to 25. Arctic Canada: 58 records, June 16 to July 10; 29 records, June 23 to July 1. Iceland: 43 records, May 25 to July 12; 22 records, June 8 to 26. British Isles: 18 records, May 16 to July 12; 9 records, June 7 to 24.

STEGANOPUS TRICOLOR Vieillot
WILSON PHALAROPE

HABITS

I shall never forget my first impressions of a prairie slough with its teeming bird life, an oasis of moisture in a sea of dry, grassy plain, where all the various water birds of the region were thickly congregated. Perhaps 10 or a dozen species of ducks could be seen in the open water, gulls and terns were drifting about overhead, grebes and countless coots were scurrying in and out among the reeds, and noisy killdeers added their plaintive cries to the ceaseless din from swarms of blackbirds in the marsh. In marked contrast to the clownish coots and the noisy killdeers and blackbirds, the almost silent, gentle, dainty, little phalaropes stand out in memory as charming features in the picture, so characteristic of western bird life. The virgin prairies are nearly gone, but there are still left a few oases of moisture in our encroaching civilization, where these graceful birds may continue to delight the eye with their gentle manners.

Unlike the other two world-wide species, the Wilson phalarope is a strictly American bird, making its summer home in the interior of North America and wintering in southern South America. It differs from the other two also in being less pelagic and more terrestrial; it is seldom, if ever, seen on the oceans, being a bird of the inland marshes; and it prefers to spend more time walking about on land, or wading in shallow water, than swimming on the water. Hence its bill, neck and legs are longer, and its feet less lobed. It is a more normal shore bird.

Spring.—The spring migration seems to be directly northward from the west coasts of South America, through Central America, to the Mississippi Valley on one hand and to California on the other. Although it usually arrives in Manitoba during the first week in May, sometimes as early as April 27, I have found it common in Texas as late as May 17. Wilson phalarope are often associated with northern phalaropes on migrations, sometimes in considerable flocks, frequenting the temporary ponds made by heavy spring rains on the grassy meadows, rather than the larger ponds and lakes. The first arrivals are usually females, followed later by mixed flocks of both sexes, which soon scatter and separate into small parties of two or three pairs.

Courtship.—The pursuit courtship is thus described by Rev. P. B. Peabody (1903):

For some three weeks after their arrival, these birds gladden landscape and water scape, in care-free abandon. They are ever on the move, afoot or awing; and during these three weeks of junketing, the unique courtship is carried on. There is no more laughable sight, to one endowed with a modicum of the sense of humor, than that of a couple, or even three, of the brightly colored females, ardently chasing a single somber-plumaged male, who turns and darts, here and there, in arrowy flights apparently much bored by the whole performance. Meanwhile, the sometimes dangling feet and the ever tremulous wings of the amorous females bespeak an ardor that would be ridiculous, under the circumstances, were it not so desperately in earnest.

Dr. E. W. Nelson (1877), on the other hand, writes:

At these times the nearest approach to pursuit is in a habit they have of suddenly darting off for a short distance at right angles to their general course, but this appears to be in mere sport, for nearly the same relative positions are kept by the birds, and this erratic course is rarely pursued beyond a few rods. In fact, throughout the pairing season I have always found the phalaropes very undemonstrative toward each other, the choice of mates being conducted in a quiet, unobtrusive way, quite unlike the usual manner among birds. The only demonstrations I have observed during the pairing time consist of a kind of solemn bowing of the head and body; but sometimes, with the head lowered and thrust forward, they will run back and forth in front of the object of their regard, or again a pair may often be seen to salute each other by alternately bowing or lowering their heads; but their courtship is characterized by a lack of rivalry and vehemence usually exhibited by birds. A male is often accompanied by two females at first, but as soon as his choice is made the rejected bird joins her fortunes with some more impressible swain.

During my various seasons spent on the western plains I have frequently seen these phalaropes flying about in trios, consisting of one male and two females, the male always in the lead, as if pursued. Females apparently outnumber the males; and, as nest building and incubation are entirely performed by the male, many of the females must remain unattached and unable to breed. I have actually seen the male building the nest and have never been able to flush a female from a set of eggs or a brood of young.

W. Leon Dawson (1923) writes:

We have already acknowledged that Mrs. Wilson wears the breeches and that she is more inclined to club life than she is to household cares. The case is, however, much more serious than we had at first suspected. I owe the original intimation of the true state of affairs to Mr. A. O. Treganza, the veteran oologist of Salt Lake City; and subsequent investigation of my own has abundantly confirmed his claims. Mrs. Wilson is a bigamist. Not occasionally, and of course not invariably, but very usually she maintains two establishments. Now that attention is called to it, we see that our notebooks are full of references to female phalaropes seen in company with two males. The association can not be accidental, for we are in the very midst of the breeding season. The males, frightened by our presence in the swamp, and not daring to remain longer upon their eggs, have sought the comforting presence of the head of their house. The three take counsel together, and it is only when the redoubtable lady announces that the way is clear that the dutiful cuckolds trail off to their nests. On the 6th and 7th of June, 1922, our M. C. O. party of three members gave close attention to a swamp in Long Valley, southern Mono County, at an altitude of 7,000 feet. We took 11 sets, of four eggs each, of the Wilson phalaropes, and we noted a distinct tendency of the nests to group themselves in pairs. In only one instance, however, were we able to trace clearly a connection between two occupied nests. These two, containing heavily incubated eggs, were situated only 42 feet apart, and the two males who were flushed from them by a surprise coup of ours joined themselves immediately to the only female who had shown any solicitude concerning this section of the swamp.

Nesting.—The Wilson phalarope is regarded by some egg collectors as an exasperating bird, because they have some difficulty in finding its nest. The nest is surprisingly well concealed, often in what seems to be scanty vegetation; and the eggs are good examples of protective coloration. I remember once crossing a moist meadow, covered with short grass which had been mowed the previous season; a male phalarope flushed from almost under foot, I threw down my hat to mark the spot and started hunting for the nest. I hunted in vain, until I gave it up and picked up my hat; there was the nest, with four eggs in it, under the hat and in plain sight.

In southwestern Saskatchewan in 1905 and 1906, we found some half dozen or more nests of this species, between June 8 and July 13. The nests were on the wet or moist meadows about the lakes and sloughs or on marshy islands; some of the nests were in practically plain sight in short grass; others were more or less well concealed in longer grass, which was sometimes arched over them; they were always difficult to find unless the incubating male was flushed. The nests were merely hollows in the damp ground, three or four inches in diameter, either scantily or well lined with dry grass.

Doctor Nelson (1877) gives a very good description of the behavior of these birds on their nesting grounds, as follows:

Incubation is attended to by the male alone. The female, however, keeps near, and is quick to give the alarm upon the approach of danger. The females are frequently found at this time in small parties of six or eight; and should their breeding ground be approached, exhibit great anxiety, coming from every part of the marsh to meet the intruder, and, hovering over his head, utter a weak nasal note, which can be heard to only a short distance.

The movements of the birds usually render it an easy matter to decide whether or not they have nests in the immediate vicinity. After the first alarm, those having nests at a distance disperse, while the others take their course in the form of an ellipse, sometimes several hundred yards in length, with the object of their suspicion in the center; and, with long strokes of their wings, much like the flight of a killdeer, they move back and forth. As their nests are approached the length of their flight is gradually lessened, until at last they are joined by the males, when the whole party hover low over the intruder's head, uttering their peculiar note of alarm. At this time they have an ingenious mode of misleading the novice, by flying off to a short distance and hovering anxiously over a particular spot in the marsh, as though there were concealed the objects of their solicitation. Should they be followed, however, and a search be there made, the maneuver is repeated in another place still farther from the real location of the nest. But should this ruse prove unavailing, they return and seem to become fairly desperate, flying about one's head almost within reach, manifesting great distress.

Aretas A. Saunders writes to me that, in Teton County, Mont., they nest in small colonies in grassy marshes, where alkaline soil prevents the grass, mainly species of Carex and Juncus, from growing tall.

Eggs.—The Wilson phalarope almost invariably lays four eggs, rarely only three. The shapes vary from ovate pyriform to ovate and there is a slight gloss. The ground colors vary from "cartridge buff" to "cream buff," rarely "chamois." The ground color is generally well concealed by numerous markings, more or less evenly distributed. Some eggs are uniformly covered with small spots and dots, but more often these are mixed with a few larger, irregular blotches. An occasional handsome set is boldly and very heavily blotched, sometimes almost concealing the ground color. The markings are usually in very dark, brownish black or blackish brown. In some handsome sets these dark markings are mixed with "bay" and "auburn" markings. The measurements of 57 eggs average 33 by 23.4 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 36.2 by 23.7, 33 by 25.1, 30 by 22.5 and 30.5 by 22 millimeters.

Young.—The period of incubation does not seem to be known. I can find no evidence that the female ever takes any part in it, but that she does not lose interest in her family is plainly shown by her demonstrations of anxiety when the nest is approached; probably she feels responsible for the faithful performance of his duties by her demure spouse. The male broods over the newly hatched young, protecting them from rain, or excessive heat or cold. But they are soon able to run about in a lively manner and care for themselves. Doctor Nelson (1877) writes that "the young have a fine, wiry peep, inaudible beyond a few feet." I believe that the young remain in the grassy meadows, where they can hide in safety, and do not take to the water until they are fully fledged.

Plumages.—In its natal down the young Wilson phalarope is entirely unlike the other phalaropes and quite different from any other young wader. The slender bill and long slender legs and feet are characteristic. It is prettily and distinctively colored also. The prevailing color of the upper parts and of a band across the chest is "ochraceous buff," deepening on the crown, wings, and mantle almost to "ochraceous orange," and paling to buffy or grayish white on the belly and to pure white on the chin and throat. There is a narrow, median, black line on the crown extending nearly or quite to the bill; this is continued in a broad, more or less broken, black stripe down the center of the back to a large black patch on the rump; a black spot on each side of the crown, one on the occiput and several more on wings, thighs, and sides of the back, sometimes run together to form stripes.

In fresh juvenal plumage, in July, the feathers of the crown, back, scapulars, tertials, and all wing coverts are dusky or nearly black, broadly edged with "light pinkish cinnamon" or "cinnamon buff," broadest and brightest on the scapulars; the under parts are white, but the throat, sides of the breast and flanks are washed with "pinkish buff," and the last two are mottled with dusky; the central tail feathers are broadly edged with "pinkish buff," bordered inwardly with a broad dusky band, surrounding a white area, with a dusky central streak invading it; the other tail feathers are similarly marked, but less completely patterned.

This plumage is worn for only a short time, as the body plumage and tail are molted during the last half of July and in August. By September young birds are in first winter plumage, which is like that of the adult, except that the entire juvenal wing is retained with the buff edgings faded out to white. The sexes are alike in juvenal and all winter plumages. A partial prenuptial molt in the spring, involving the body plumage and most, if not all, of the wing coverts and scapulars, makes the young bird practically adult.

Adults have a partial prenuptial molt in April and May, involving the tail, the wing coverts and all the body plumage, which produces the well-known brilliant plumage of the female and the duller plumage of the male. The complete postnuptial molt in summer produces the gray winter plumage in both sexes, in which the crown, back, and scapulars are "light drab" or "drab-gray," with narrow white edgings, and the upper tail coverts, as well as the under parts, are white. The sexes can be recognized in adult winter plumage by size only.

Food.—The other two species of phalaropes feed mainly on the water, but the Wilson phalarope is more of a shore bird and obtains most of its food while walking about on muddy shores or wading in shallow water. It does, however, adopt the whirling tactics of the others occasionally, concerning which Mr. Dawson (1923) says:

Instead of swinging from side to side with a rhythmical motion, as do the reds and northerns, the Wilson whirls all the way around. Moreover, he keeps on whirling, and though he pauses for the fraction of a second to inspect his chances, he goes on and on again like an industrious, mad clock. One bird which I had under the binoculars turned completely around 247 times in one spot, without stopping save for instantaneous dabs at prey. These dabs were directed forward or backward, i. e., with or against the direction of the body motion. A single gyration normally contains two such minute pauses, accompanied by a hitching motion of the head; and these are evidently the periods of maximum attention, since they are followed by, or rather flow into, the prey stroke, if game is sighted. "Game" is not always abundant nor certain, and I have seen a bird whirl a dozen times without a single stroke.

The method of feeding on mud flats or in shallow water is well described by Roland C. Ross (1924), as follows:

When feeding along the shallows with least, western, and red-backed sandpipers, they differed from them not only in size and color, but in their habit of steady, energetic walking and the constant "side sweeping" with the bill. Occasionally they picked objects from the surface with their needle bills, but this was not very actively pursued. In deeper water they fed among the northern phalaropes, knots, and dowitchers, wading along until they swam in places. However, they were able to wade where the northern swam. At such depths they feed with the head clear under and the energy of the feeding operation was indicated by the motion of the tail. They commonly walked steadily back and forth through the deeper sections of the ponds, and in such deep places they moved as headless bodies, evidently feeding as usual in the surface mud. From the vigorous side moves of the tail it would seem they were feeding in their usual manner as well; that is, "side sweeping." When the birds were standing to feed in the deeper places the tail was again much in evidence, and indicated the manner of feeding. This would seem to be a probing motion performed with some rapid vibration which was communicated to the tail as a series of quivers. It is rather a droll sight, and arresting as well, to see a certain area marked out by headless gray bodies buried in the water up to the bend of the wing, the vibrating tail indicating the vigorous operations being carried on down below. It seemed their best feeding was in the deeper waters.

The feeding habits of this and the other phalaropes are almost wholly beneficial. They live very largely on the larvae of mosquitoes. They also eat crane-fly larvae, which are often very destructive in grass lands and wheat fields. Predaceous diving beetles, which are a nuisance in fish hatcheries, are eaten by them. Dr. Alexander Wetmore's (1925) analysis of the contents of 106 stomachs showed that the food of the Wilson phalarope is mainly insects, of which various flies made up 43.1 per cent, aquatic bugs 24.4 per cent and beetles 20.1 per cent. The remainder of the food included brine shrimps, amphipods, eggs of water fleas, and seeds of various aquatic plants.

Behavior.—Much of the interesting behavior of the Wilson phalaropes has been described under different headings above. In all its movements it is light, airy and graceful. Its flight is much like that of the lesser yellow legs, with which it is often associated; but, when suddenly alarmed, it sometimes flies hurriedly away in a zigzag fashion. On its breeding grounds it often hovers, almost motionless in the air, as the upland plover sometimes does. It swims lightly and buoyantly, but apparently does not dive. It walks about on land actively and daintily, where it is said to resemble the solitary sandpiper. It mingles freely on its feeding grounds with various other species of shore birds. Toward the close of the nesting season the females become very gregarious; as early as June 18, in southern Alberta, we saw them in large flocks, mixed with lesser yellow legs, flying about the marshy lakes.

Voice.—The only note I have recorded is a soft, nasal grunt or subdued quack. Dr. Walter P. Taylor (1912) describes a peculiar nuptial (?) call note "as oit, oit, oit, somewhat resembling the croak of a toad during the breeding season. At the instant of utterance of the note the bird which is calling raises its head somewhat, pauses momentarily in its flight, and its throat bulges slightly." Mr. Saunders calls it a low note sounding like croo, croo, croo.

E. S. Cameron (1907) writes:

The Wilson's phalaropes, both when feeding and when disturbed and circling on the wing, constantly uttered a low croaking, which at close quarters might be compared to the much louder note of the sandhill cranes, or, at a distance, to the faintly heard barking of a dog. On the other hand, I have heard them give a shrill and totally different call of indecision or satisfaction on their first arrival when hovering over a pool.

Field marks.—The Wilson is larger than the other phalaropes and has a longer bill, neck, and legs. It can be distinguished from other shore birds by its needlelike bill and small head and by the absence of white in its wings. Its spring plumage is, of course, well marked and very beautiful. John T. Nichols gives me the following field characters:

Very rare, but apparently regular on the south shore of Long Island in southward migration; those that I have known of have all been in pale gray and white plumage occurring singly about the marshes in flocks of the lesser yellow legs. Little smaller than that species, they are to be picked out in a flock of same at once by their much paler color. In alighting such a bird may swim on puddles of water between the stubble where the others are wading. At short range the long, straight, very slender bill and indications of a curved "phalarope" mark on the neck, backward and downward from the eye, are to be looked for. Large size and long, very slender bill should prevent confusion of this with other phalaropes in the field in any plumage.

Fall.—As soon as the young are able to care for themselves the males join the flocks of females and they all depart on their fall migration in August. Some individuals wander eastward to the Atlantic coast, but the main flight is southward along both coasts of Mexico to their winter home in Argentina, Chile, and Patagonia.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—North and South America.

Breeding range.—The breeding range of Wilson's phalarope extends north to Washington (Bumping Lake); Alberta (Alix, Buffalo Lake, and Edmonton); Saskatchewan (Osler, Quill Lake, and Indian Head); Manitoba (Moose Mountain, Brandon, and Shoal Lake); North Dakota (Pembina); Minnesota (probably Leech Lake); Michigan (St. Clair Flats); and southern Ontario (Dunnville). East to southern Ontario (Dunnville); northern Indiana (Lake County); northern Illinois (West Northfield, Fox River, and Calumet Marshes); and formerly Missouri (Pierce). South to Indiana (Whiting); Missouri (formerly Pierce); rarely southern Kansas (Meade County); Colorado (Sterling, Barr, and San Luis Valley); southwestern Wyoming (Fort Bridger); northern Utah (Salt Lake City); Nevada (Washoe Lake); and California (Tahoe Lake and Los Banos). West to California (Los Banos, Lassen County, and Tule Lake); Oregon (Klamath Lake); and Washington (Conconully and Bumping Lake). It also has been reported in summer from southern California (Furnace Creek and Tulare Lake) and from central Mexico (Lerma).

Winter range.—The winter range of the Wilson phalarope is very imperfectly known. The few records available come chiefly from South America, but it also has been reported as wintering in Mexico (Mayorazgo, Ixtapalapa, and the City of Mexico); rarely southern Texas (Corpus Christi); and in southern California (Riverside). South American specimens have been taken or observed at this season in the Falkland Islands; Patagonia (Chupat); Argentina (Mendoza, Buenos Aires, Tucuman, Barracas al Sud, and Missiones); Chile (Valdivia); Bolivia (Alto Paraguay); Peru (Ingapirca); and Brazil (Caicara).

Spring migration.—Early dates of spring arrival are: Missouri, St. Louis, April 22, Corning, April 23, Independence, May 1, and Marionville, May 2; Illinois, Quincy, April 20, Chicago, April 21, Liter, April 27, Fernwood, May 1, and South Englewood, May 3; Indiana, Waterloo, April 27, and Kouts, April 30; Michigan, Ann Arbor, April 1, Detroit, May 1, and Iron Mountain, May 2; Ontario, Toronto, May 25; Iowa, Emmetsburg, April 24, Gilbert Station, April 27, Marshalltown, May 2, Sioux City, May 5, and Keokuk, May 6; Wisconsin, Delavan, April 26, North Freedom, April 29, and Whitewater, May 6; Minnesota, Heron Lake, May 8, Wilder, May 8, Hallock, May 9, and Waseca, May 12; northern Texas, Gainesville, May 6, and Huntsville, May 7; Kansas, Emporia, April 23, Paola, April 28, Onaga, April 29, and Wichita, April 30; Nebraska, Dunbar, April 5, Badger, April 18, Callaway, April 19, Lincoln, April 22, and Valentine, May 1; South Dakota, Harrison, April 29, Vermilion, April 29, Forestburg, May 1, Pitrodie, May 3, and Huron, May 4; North Dakota, Menoken, May 1, Bismarck, May 3, Charlson, May 4, Antler, May 10, Cando, May 17, and Westhope, May 18; Manitoba, Oak Lake, April 27, Shoal Lake, May 7, Reaburn, May 16, and Winnipeg, May 22; Saskatchewan, Indian Head, May 12, Dinsmore, May 13, and Osier, May 19; New Mexico, Albuquerque, April 20, and Aragon, April 21; Arizona, Tucson, April 12; Colorado, Denver, April 25, Durango, April 25, Loveland, April 27, Boulder, May 3, and Salida, May 4; Wyoming, Lake Como, May 6, near Cokeville, May 7, Yellowstone Park, May 11, and Cheyenne, May 19; Idaho, Meridian, May 14; Montana, Billings, April 30, Great Falls, May 9, Fort Keogh, May 10, Big Sandy, May 14, and Terry, May 21; Alberta, Beaverhill Lake, May 7, Alliance, May 18, Veteran, May 22, and Stony Plain, May 23; California, Santa Barbara, April 26, Unlucky Lake, April 28, and Stockton, May 2; Nevada, Steptoe Valley, May 12, Washoe Lake, May 19, and Quinn River, May 20; and Oregon, Klamath Lake, April 30, Narrows, May 1, and Lawen, May 20.

Fall migration.—Late dates of fall departure are: Oregon, Malheur Lake, September 5; California, Santa Barbara, September 8, and near San Francisco, September 9; Montana, Milk River, July 21, and Great Falls, August 15; Utah, Great Salt Lake, September 16; Wyoming, Seven-mile Lake, September 14, and Yellowstone Park, September 27; Colorado, Denver, September 12; Arizona, Fort Verde, September 7; Saskatchewan, Ravine Bank, August 25; North Dakota, Grafton, September 11, and Westhope, September 24; South Dakota, Forestburg, August 13, Harrison, September 12, and Sioux Falls, October 14; Nebraska, Badger, August 30, and Gresham, September 1; Kansas, Emporia, August 31; Texas, Tivoli, September 14, and Corsicana, September 12; Minnesota, Lanesboro, September 13; Michigan, Kalamazoo County, September 8; and Ontario, near Toronto, September 23.

Casual records.—Although essentially a western species the Wilson phalarope has many times been detected in eastern localities. Among these are: Alabama, Bayou la Batre, September 5, 1911; South Carolina, Sullivans Island, September 7, 1910; North Carolina, near Church Island, August 25, 1910, and Currituck Light House, September 14, 1911; New Jersey, Ocean City, May 19, 1898, and Cape May, May 4, 1909; New York, Mastic, September 21, 1918, and August 23, 1920, Shinnecock, August 20, 1883, and August 15, 1885, Far Rockaway, October 10, 1874, East River, October 15, 1879, Onondaga Lake, September 2, 1886, Oneida Lake, October 6, 1883, Ithaca, fall of 1892, Atlanticville, August 15, 1885, and June 1, 1887, and Bronx Park, September 21, 1924; Connecticut, Bridgeport (Linsley); Rhode Island, Newport, August 2, 1880, August 20, 1883 and September 13, 1886, Sakonnet, August 24, 1899, and Quonochontaug, August 28, 1909; Massachusetts, Chatham, October 19, 1888, Nantucket, August 31, 1889, Nahant, May, 1874, Salisbury and Boston (Townsend); New Hampshire, Rye Beach, August 15, 1872; Maine, Sabattus Pond, September or October, 1906, and Scarborough, June 9, 1881; and Quebec, Montreal, August, 1869. It also has been taken in British Columbia, Chilliwack, September 9, 1888, and Osoyoos Lake, May 15, 1922 and May 18, 1922. It has been detected a few times in Lower California, La Paz (date?), and San Jose del Cabo, one in spring and another in August, 1887.

Egg dates.—Saskatchewan and Alberta: 51 records, May 16 to June 24; 26 records, June 5 to 11. Dakotas: 23 records, May 25 to June 22; 12 records, June 3 to 12. Colorado and Utah: 20 records, May 15 to July 10; 10 records, May 25 to June 8. California: 50 records, May 21 to June 22; 25 records, June 2 to 7.

Family RECURVIROSTRIDAE, Avocets and Stilts

RECURVIROSTRA AMERICANA Gmelin
AMERICAN AVOCET

HABITS

Wherever this large, showy bird is found it is always much in evidence. Its large size and conspicuous colors could hardly be overlooked, even if it were shy and retiring; but its bold, aggressive manners force it upon our attention as soon as we approach its haunts. Localities and conditions best suited to its needs are still to be found in many places on the great plains and in the interior valleys of the far west. Its favorite resorts seem to be the shallow, muddy borders of alkaline lakes, wide open spaces of extensive marshes, where scanty vegetation gives but little concealment, or broad wet meadows splashed with shallow pools. If the muddy pools are covered with reeking scum, attracting myriads of flies, so much the better for feeding purposes. Dry, sun-baked mud flats or low, gravelly or sandy islands, with scanty vegetation, furnish the desired nesting conditions. In such open spaces they can be seen from afar and, long before we reach their haunts, the avocets are flying out to meet us, advertising the fact that we are approaching their home, making the air ring with their loud yelping notes of protest, circling about us and darting down at us in threatening plunges.

Courtship.—Prof. Julian S. Huxley (1925), who has made a study of the European species, says:

The avocet has no courtship. There are no songs or aerial displays; no posturing by the male; no mutual ceremonies; no special courtship notes. There is some hostility and fighting; a peculiar action by the female which is a symbol of readiness to pair, followed by an excited action on the part of the male; and a special post-paring action by both birds; but of courtship in any accepted sense none whatever.

However that may be, our bird does indulge in actions and posturings which look very much like courtship. On May 29, 1905, we spent some time in watching the avocets in a colony on an alkali flat covered with a sparse growth of short, curly grass, near Hay Lake in southwestern Saskatchewan. We could not find any nests there at that time and concluded that the birds had not laid. They were apparently still conducting their courtships, wading about gracefully in the shallow water, frequently bowing or crouching down close to the water; sometimes they danced about with wings widespread, tipping from side to side like a balancing tight-rope walker; occasionally one, perhaps a female in an attitude of invitation, would lie prostrate on the ground or water for a minute or more, with the head and neck extended and wings outstretched. Frequently they fooled us by squatting down on the ground, as if sitting on a nest; if we went to investigate, they would run away and repeat the act elsewhere; perhaps this act carried the suggestion of mating as a part of the courtship ceremony.

Nesting.—We found no large breeding colonies in Saskatchewan but several small ones. The Hay Lake colony referred to above was perhaps the largest, containing 15 or 20 pairs. The nests, found here on June 15, were merely slight hollows in the sun-baked mud on the broad alkali flats bordering the shallow lake; they were scattered widely among the little tufts of short grass which scantily covered the flat; the hollows measured from 3 to 4 inches in diameter and were lined with a few dry grasses. Some of the nests were well formed and somewhat elevated. Although in plain sight, the eggs were not easy to find, as they matched their surroundings perfectly.

On June 14, 1906, we found an interesting little colony of avocets on an island in Big Stick Lake, Saskatchewan, which was also occupied by big colonies of California and ring-billed gulls, common terns, a few spotted sandpipers, and a few pairs of ducks. The avocets, terns, and sandpipers were all at one end of the island, a low grassy point; the ring-billed gulls and ducks were in the central, highest part; and the California gull colony was at the other end. The avocets' nests, ten or a dozen of them, were placed in the short grass near the edge of the beach or on the drift weed lying in windrows on the beach; one nest was partially under a fallen shrub or bushy weed. The nests were made of grasses, weed stems, straws and small sticks, with sometimes a few feathers, loosely arranged around small hollows, from 5 to 7 inches in diameter. Two of the nests held five eggs, the others three or four.

Robert B. Rockwell (1912) found an interesting colony of avocets on an island in Barr Lake, Colo., of which he says:

The nests were all located in very similar locations, among a young growth of cockle burrs not over six inches in height and which had probably grown at least half of that since the eggs were laid. The cockle burrs formed a belt about 10 yards wide clear around the island just below the dense blue-stem and other rank grass with which the Island was covered and on ground that was under water during the high water of the spring although inundated for a short time only. Two of the nests were very crude affairs, being a mere shallow hollow in the sand with a very few dead weed stalks of short lengths arranged around the eggs. The other was constructed in the same manner, but was quite well lined with weed stems, so that the eggs did not touch the ground. There was no evident attempt at concealment, the nests all being placed in small open spaces from six inches to a foot in diameter, and with nothing to protect them; but the color of the eggs was sufficient protection to make them quite inconspicuous.

Dr. Alexander Wetmore (1925) writes:

The sites chosen often are subject to inundation by sudden floods, when the birds scurry about, seemingly in confusion, but in reality working actively to build up the nest in order to support the eggs above the level of the encroaching water. In some cases it may be necessary to erect a structure 12 or 15 inches in height. Weeds, small sticks, bones, or dried bodies of ducks or other birds, feathers, or any other materials available are utilized as building materials.

Eggs.—The American avocet lays three or four eggs, usually four and occasionally five. Numerous nests have been found containing seven or eight eggs, but these are probably products of two females. Edwin Beaupré writes to me that, in a colony of five pairs found by him on an island in a small lake in southern Alberta, the five pairs were occupying three nests; one contained eight eggs, another seven and the third four. The eggs vary in shape from ovate (rarely) to ovate pyriform and they are usually much elongated. The shell is smooth, but not glossy. The ground color varies from "Isabella color" to "deep olive buff." This is more or less evenly covered with irregular spots and blotches, in various sizes, of brownish black, blackish brown, or black, rarely "warm sepia" or "bister"; there are occasionally a few blackish scrawls, and numerous underlying spots of various shades of drab. The measurements of 55 eggs average 49.8 by 34 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 56.3 by 34.6, 51.5 by 36.6, 43.2 by 33.4 and 47 by 31 millimeters.

Young.—The period of incubation of the American bird has apparently not been determined, but that of the European bird is said to be 28 days. I have no data as to how the sexes incubate. Young avocets are very precocial and leave the nest soon after hatching. They are expert at hiding, even on the open flats and beaches; and they take to the water at an early age, where they can swim and dive like young ducks. I have seen a brood of four young, that could not have been hatched more than a few hours, swimming out in a lake, as if very much at ease. They soon learn to tip up in shallow water and probe on the bottom, like their parents, for their insect food.

Plumages.—The downy young avocet is well colored for concealment on an open beach or alkaline flat. The colors of the upper parts are "cinnamon buff," "cream buff," and buffy grays, lightest on the crown and darkest on the rump; there is a distinct but narrow loral stripe of black; the crown is indistinctly spotted with dusky. Two parallel stripes of brownish black distinctly mark the scapulars and two more the sides of the rump; the wings, back, rump, and thighs are less distinctly spotted or peppered with gray and dusky. The under parts are buffy white, nearly pure white on the throat and belly.

In fresh juvenal plumage the crown is "light drab" with "pinkish buff" tips; the sides and back of the neck are deep, rich "cinnamon," deeper and richer than in the adult, shading off, on the upper back, throat, and upper breast, to a suffusion of "pinkish buff"; the chin and belly are white; the color pattern of the upper parts is similar to that of the adult, except that the dark feathers of the back, scapulars, and tertials are tipped with "pinkish buff"; and the greater and median wing coverts are narrowly so tipped.

This plumage is worn through the summer and fall without much change except by extensive fading and some wear. The cinnamon has nearly disappeared in September birds and all the buff edgings have faded or worn away. A body molt takes place in late winter or early spring which produces a first nuptial plumage much like the adult. Young birds can, however, be recognized by the worn primaries and by some of the juvenal scapulars and wing coverts. The first postnuptial molt, the following summer, is complete and produces the adult winter plumage.

Adults have a complete postnuptial molt, beginning in August, and a partial prenuptial molt, beginning in January, which involves the body plumage and some of the scapulars and wing coverts. The "cinnamon" colors of the head and neck are characteristic of the nuptial plumage and are replaced by pale gray in winter adults.

Food.—The feeding habits of the avocet are rather peculiar, as might be expected of a bird with such a peculiar bill. The bill is not so sharply upturned in life, as it is in some stuffed specimens and in some drawings. Dr. Frank M. Chapman (1891) has explained it very well, as follows:

The use of the avocet's recurved bill is clearly explained by the manner in which the bird procures its food. In feeding they wade into the water and drop the bill below the surface until the convexity of the maxilla probably touches the bottom. In this position they move forward at a half run and with every step the bill is swung from side to side sweeping through an arc of about 50° in search of shells and other small aquatic animals. The mandibles are slightly opened, and at times the birds pause to swallow their prey. It is evident that birds with a straight or a downward curved bill could not adopt this method of feeding.

Audubon (1840) describes it, as follows:

They search for food precisely in the manner of the roseate spoonbill, moving their heads to and fro sideways, while their bill is passing through the soft mud; and in many instances, when the water was deeper, they would immerse their whole head and a portion of the neck, as the spoonbill and red-breasted snipe are wont to do. When, on the contrary, they pursued aquatic insects, such as swim on the surface, they ran after them, and on getting up to them, suddenly seized them by thrusting the lower mandible beneath them, while the other was raised a good way above the surface, much in the manner of the black shear water, which, however, performs this act on wing. They were also expert at catching flying insects, after which they ran with partially expanded wings.

Doctor Wetmore (1925) found that, in 67 stomachs examined, animal food amounted to 65.1 per cent and vegetable food 34.9 per cent. Among the animal food were found phyllopods, dragonfly nymphs, back swimmers, water boatmen, various beetles and flies and their larvae. The vegetable matter consisted largely of seeds of marsh or aquatic plants. He says further:

Flocks of the birds search for food scattered about in shallow water, and do not hesitate to swim when necessary in crossing the deeper channels. Frequently a dozen or more feed in company, walking slowly along, shoulder to shoulder, as though in drill formation, at each forward step thrusting the head under water and sweeping the recurved bill along the bottom with a scythelike swing that must arouse consternation among water boatmen and other aquatic denizens of the bays and ponds. At times the writer has observed as many as 300 of these handsome birds feeding thus in a single company, a scene at once spirited and striking. As the birds feed much of the time by immersing the head, anything that may touch the bill is gathered indiscriminately, as in feeding they depend upon the sense of touch. From their manner of feeding, avocets are often scavengers, taking living or recently dead prey without much choice. The large tapeworms found almost without fail in the duodenum of the avocet are transmitted from one bird to another in this manner. The cast-off terminal segments of the worms (bearing the eggs) are picked up and swallowed by other avocets, a proceeding which the writer has personally observed. Avocets also pick up matter floating in the water, on or near the surface, or take insects and seeds from mud bars. The insects may be those living in such localities or may be individuals that have been washed up in drift.

Other observers have reported avocets as feeding on grasshoppers, predaceous diving beetles, crickets, centipedes, weevils, small snails, sea slugs, small crustaceans, and even small fishes.

Behavior.—Avocets are at all times tame and unsuspicious, very solicitous and aggressive on their breeding grounds, quiet and indifferent at other times, showing only mild curiosity. Their demonstrations of anxiety on their nesting grounds, particularly if they have young, are amusing and ludicrous. Utterly regardless of their own safety, they meet the intruder more than half way and stay with him till he leaves. W. Leon Dawson (1909) has described it very graphically, as follows:

The mother bird had flushed at a hundred yards, but seeing our position she flew toward us and dropped into the water some 50 feet away. Here she lifted a black wing in simulation of maimed stiffness, and flopped and floundered away with the aid of the other one. Seeing that the ruse failed, she ventured nearer and repeated the experiment, lifting now one wing and now both in token of utter helplessness. After a while the male joined her, and we had the painful spectacle of a crippled family, whose members were uttering most doleful cries of distress, necessitated apparently by their numerous aches and breaks. Once, for experiment's sake, we followed, and the waders flopped along in manifest delight coaxing us up on shore and making off through the sagebrush with broken legs and useless wings. But we came back, finding it better to let the birds make the advances. The birds were driven to the very limit of frenzy, dancing, wing trailing, swaying, going through last convulsions and beginning over again without regard to logical sequence, all in an agony of effort to divert attention from those precious eggs. As time elapsed, however, the color of the play changed. Finding that the appeal of cupidity was of no avail, the birds appeared to fall back upon the appeal to pity. Decoying was useless, that was plain; so they stood with upraised wings, quivering and moaning, in tenderest supplication. It was too much even for conscious rectitude and we withdrew abashed.

The flight of the avocet is strong, direct and rather swift, much like that of the greater yellow legs, with neck and legs fully extended, fore and aft. It can alight on or rise from the surface of the water with ease. On alighting its long, black and white wings are raised above its back, and slowly folded, as it settles itself with a nodding motion of the head, stands still and looks about it for a moment or two. No bird is better equipped for the amphibious existence that it leads; its long legs and webbed feet enable it to wade through soft muddy shallows of varying depths; and if it suddenly steps beyond its depth it swims as naturally as a duck until it strikes bottom again; the thick plumage of its under parts protects it and marks it as an habitual swimmer. It often feeds while swimming by tipping up like a surface-feeding duck and reaching down into the water with its long neck and bill. It can even dive when necessary.

Dr. Walter P. Taylor (1912) says that avocets "share with most other birds a dislike of owls. Three were seen pursuing a Speotyto over a wild hay meadow."

Dr. T. Gilbert Pearson (1916) noted an interesting flight maneuver:

Only a few weeks ago I was impressed anew with the beauty of these birds. While passing down the valley of Crane Creek, in southeastern Oregon, a flock of about 50 avocets arose and indulged in a series of evolutions which even the most casual observer would have paused to watch. In a fairly compact company they flew away for a short distance, then turned, and, after coming back almost to the starting point, dived toward the earth, arose again perhaps 50 yards in the air, then swung around and came back. These maneuvers were repeated at least three times. Their white and black plumage, flashing against the gray sagebrush of the desert mountain side, and sharply relieved as they skimmed over the alkaline creek, made a picture long to be remembered.

Charles E. H. Aiken (1914)

witnessed a curious performance of avocets in Utah. In September, 1893, he visited the mouth of Bear River where hundreds of acres of mud flats and shallow water offer an attractive resort for various water fowl. In a submerged grove where patches of mud appeared above the water hundreds of avocets were congregated. One little mud island that differed from others in that it was quite round seemed to have a fascination for the birds, and they were packed together upon it in a mass which covered the island to the water's edge. As the island was about 12 feet in circumference the number of birds probably approximated 150. This mass of birds continued to revolve about from left to right, and being so crowded the movement was rather slow and their steps short and measured, so that the impression was that they were all marking time in the marching. Birds on the rim of the circle avoided walking off in the water and crowded inward against the mass. Every moment or two birds would leave the milling body and fly to a neighboring mud island, and as many from near-by would fly to take their places and join the dance. Aiken advanced quietly to within 20 yards and viewed them for half an hour, but they continued undisturbed by his presence and he left them so. It appeared to be a diversion of the birds.

John G. Tyler contributes the following:

The avocet is evidently possessed of a very keen sense of hearing. On May 21, 1921, I discovered three or four pairs in an overflowed pasture not far from Fresno. Driving my car up to within about 100 feet of them I allowed my engine to die and sat perfectly motionless. In about 15 minutes the birds had become thoroughly accustomed to my presence and one bird finally took up a position on a small levee, tucked its bill under the feathers of its back, closed its eyes, and after raising the right leg and drawing it up close to the body, stood absolutely motionless and apparently asleep for several minutes. It was very much awake, however, for when I whistled softly through my teeth, making a rather squeaking noise, it immediately straightened up, opened its eyes, and gazed about in apparent astonishment. As I remained motionless the bird soon settled down and in the course of the next few moments I repeated the same experiment always with the same results. So long as one remains seated in the automobile and makes no noticeable movement it is possible to make close observation of these and several other species of shore birds, but the slightest movement or an attempt to get out of the car sends them away in the wildest confusion.

Voice.—The avocet's vocabulary is not so elaborate as it is impressive. The commonest note, heard on the breeding grounds as a note of alarm or protest, is a loud, shrill whistle or yelping scream, which I have recorded in my notes as wheat, wheat, wheat. Others have recorded it as plee-eek, plee-eek, or click, click, click. It is always sharp and vehement, implying anger. I have also heard a softer note, uttered in a conversational tone, like whick, whick, whick, or whuck, whuck, whuck.

Aretas A. Saunders contributes the following notes:

About the nest colony the adults flew closely about my head, calling a short staccato call that sounded like pink, pink, pink. One bird pretended wounded in a different manner from what I have seen it done by other species. The bird sat on the water, dropped its head and neck down to the surface, half spread its wings, also dropping them on the water, and, lying almost still, called oo-oo, oo-oo, oo-oo, over and over, as though suffering great pain. The voice was low and not very loud, and not at all like the pink, pink of the other birds.

Field marks.—The avocet, in its striking color pattern of black and white, could not be mistaken for anything else. A white tail, a black V on a white back, black wings with white secondaries and blue legs are all distinctive marks; the buff head and neck are nuptial adornments; in fall and winter these parts are grayish white. From the stilt it can be distinguished by its much stockier build, the absence of black on head and neck and by blue instead of pink legs.

Game.—Although it is a large, plump bird and would help to fill a game bag, there is no excuse for treating it as a game bird. It is so tame and so foolishly inquisitive that it would offer poor sport and would soon be exterminated. Furthermore its flesh is said to be worthless for the table. But above all, it is such a showy, handsome and interesting bird, that it ought to be preserved for future generations to enjoy. The destruction of its breeding grounds will exterminate it soon enough, as it has already been extirpated from its former range in the Eastern States.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—North America to northern Central America.

Breeding range.—The breeding range of the avocet extends north to Washington (Moses Lake and probably Walla Walla); northern Idaho (Pend Oreille); Alberta (Red Deer, Buffalo Lake, and Flagstaff); Saskatchewan (Osler, Quill Lake, and Touchwood Hills); North Dakota (Kenmare and Cando); Minnesota (Brown's Valley, Traverse County); and Wisconsin (Green Bay). East to Wisconsin (Green Bay); western Iowa (Sioux City); central Kansas (Larned and Dodge); and rarely to southern Texas (Corpus Christi and Isabel). South rarely to southern Texas (Isabel and Brownsville); New Mexico (Chloride); northern Utah (Salt Lake City); Nevada (Ruby Valley and probably Cloverdale); and southern California (Little Owens Lake, Kerrville, and Santa Ana). West to California (Santa Ana, Santa Cruz Island, Buena Vista Lake, Tulare Lake, Los Banos, Stockton, Amedee, Tule Lake, and Brownell); Oregon (Adel, Plush, Sumner Lake, and Christmas Lake); and Washington (Moses Lake). It has been recorded in summer north to British Columbia (Okanagan Landing); Manitoba (Brandon); and New York (Ithaca); while there also is an old breeding record for Egg Harbor, New Jersey.

Winter range.—North to Carolina (Novato and Stockton); and Texas (Houston). East to Texas (Houston, Corpus Christi, and Brownsville); Tamaulipas (Matamoros); and Guatemala (Chiapam). South to Guatemala (Chiapam); and Sinaloa (Escuinapa). West to Sinaloa (Escuinapa and Mazatlan); Lower California (San Jose del Cabo and La Paz); and California (San Diego, Morro Bay, San Francisco, and Novato.)

Spring migration.—Early dates of arrival are: Nebraska, Whitman, April 13, Long Pine, April 27, Alda, May 2, and Lincoln, May 5; South Dakota, Pitrodie, April 28, Huron, May 6, and Aberdeen, May 15; North Dakota, Marstonmoor, April 28; Manitoba, Margaret, May 5; Saskatchewan, Fort Carlston, May 4, and Dinsmore, May 9; Arizona, Ehrenburg, February 12, and Tucson, April 21; New Mexico, Albuquerque, April 14; Colorado, Loveland, April 9; and Denver, April 25; Utah, Salt Lake City, April 27; Wyoming, Huttons Lake, April 21, Lake Como, April 22, and Cheyenne, April 24; Idaho, Deer Flat, February 15, and Rupert, April 26; Montana, Great Falls, April 18, Fort Custer, April 26, Terry, May 1, Billings, May 3, and Big Sandy, May 18; Alberta, Beaverhill Lake, April 28, and Flagstaff, May 14; Nevada, Ash Meadows, March 15; Oregon, Klamath Falls, March 26, Narrows, April 11, Malheur Lake, April 17, and Lawen, April 19. Avocets have been noted at Lake Palomas, Chihuahua, on April 7, and at Gardner's Laguna, Lower California, on April 22.

Fall migration.—Late dates of departure are: Oregon, Forest Grove, September 28, Malheur Lake, October 26, and Klamath Lake, November 6; Alberta, Veteran, September 8; Montana, Fort Custer, September 9, and Great Falls, October 2; Idaho, Rupert, October 21; Wyoming, Fort Bridger, October 10; Utah, Provo, November 26; Colorado, Denver, October 3, and Mosca, October 20; New Mexico, Glenrio, October 11, Las Palomas, October 12, and Mesilla Park, November 9; Manitoba, Margaret, September 15; South Dakota, Harrison, October 28; Wisconsin, Waupaca County, October 21; Nebraska, Gresham, September 10, Long Pine, October 9, and Lincoln, October 27; and Kansas, Emporia, August 25. The arrival of avocets in the fall has been noted in the Valley of Mexico in August and September.

Casual records.—The avocet has on a number of occasions been reported or taken at points far outside of its normal range. Some of these records are: Cuba, once in the market at Havana and at Cardenas in August; Jamaica, reported in winter; Barbados, one in the fall of 1880 and again on October 1, 1888; Florida, one killed at Palm Beach Inlet in 1916; Georgia, St. Marys, October 8, 1903; North Carolina, six noted at Fort Macon on September 12, 1870; Virginia, two taken at Wallops Island in September, 1925; New Jersey, Barnegat, May 30, 1880; New York, Ponquoque, one in 1844, Carnarsie Bay, one in 1847, Long Beach, May 20, 1877, near Tuckerton, last of August, 1886, Renwick, September 16, 1909, and Ithaca, September 16, 1909; Connecticut, near Saybrook, 1871; Massachusetts, three at Ipswich Neck, September 13, 1896, Lake Cochituate, October 19, 1880, Natick, October 29, 1880, and Salisbury, May 23, 1887; Vermont, St. Albans, fall of 1875; Maine, Cape Elizabeth, November 5, 1878, and Calais, spring of 1862; New Brunswick, Quaco, in 1880; Louisiana, New Orleans, November 12, 1889, and November 7, 1819, Derniere Island, April 16, 1837, and Johnsons Bayou, November 26, 1882; Arkansas, a specimen was taken some time previous to 1847; Missouri, St. Louis, October 28, 1878, and Stotesbury, April 8, 1894; Illinois, St. Clair County, October 28, 1878, and two at Chicago, May 5, 1889; Indiana, one was taken at Calumet Lake; Ohio, St. Marys Reservoir, November 10, 1882, Oberlin, November 4, 1907, and March 16 to 21, 1907, Sandusky, May 24, 1914, and near Columbus, November 10, 1882; Michigan, St. Clair Flats, in 1874; Ontario, Toronto, last of May, 1881 and September 19, 1901; Mackenzie, Birch Lake, July 15, 1910, and Fort Rae; British Columbia, Okanagan, April 28, 1908, and mouth of the Fraser River, October 20, 1915. Avocets also have been reported from Greenland, but the records lack confirmation.

Egg dates.—Saskatchewan: 27 records, May 18 to June 16; 14 records, May 29 to June 14. Utah: 52 records, April 10 to June 15; 26 records, May 6 to 16. California: 35 records, April 22 to June 25; 18 records, May 5 to 29.

HIMANTOPUS MEXICANUS (Müller)
BLACK-NECKED STILT

HABITS

Although I first met the black-necked stilt in the Florida Keys in 1903, it was not until I visited the irrigated regions of the San Joaquin Valley in California in 1914, that I saw this curious bird living in abundance and flourishing in most congenial surroundings. It was a pleasant change from the cool, damp air of the coast region to the clear, dry warmth of this highly cultivated valley. The naturally arid plains between the distant mountain ranges had been transformed by irrigation into fertile fields of alfalfa and wheat, vast areas had been flooded with water from the melting snows of the Sierras, forming grazing lands for herds of cattle and endless marshes, wet meadows, ponds and creeks, for various species of water birds. As W. Leon Dawson (1923) puts it:

The magic touch of water following its expected channels quickens an otherwise barren plain into a paradise of avian activities. Ducks of six or seven species frequent the deeper channels; coots and gallinules and pied-billed grebes crowd the sedgy margins of the ponds; herons, bitterns, ibises, and egrets, seven species of Herodiones, all told, occupy the reedy depths of the larger ponds or deploy over the grassy levels. Rails creak and titter, red wings clink, yellow-headed blackbirds gurgle, wrangle, and screech; while the marsh wrens, familiar spirits of the maze, sputter and chuckle over their quaint basketry. The tricolored blackbirds, also in great silent companies recruited from a hundred acres, charge into their nesting covert with a din of uncanny preoccupation. Over the open ponds black terns hover, and Forster terns flit with languid ease. The killdeer is not forgotten, nor the burrowing owl, whose home is in the higher knolls; but over all and above all and through all comes the clamor of the black-necked stilt and the American avocet.

Of all these birds, the stilts were the most conspicuous in the wet meadows about Los Banos, where they were always noisy and aggressive. I have never seen them so abundant elsewhere, though I have seen them in similar situations in Florida and Texas, on extensive wet meadows where shallow water fills the hollows between myriads of little muddy islets and tufts of grass. Here they can wade about and feed in the water or build their nests on the hummocks above high-water mark, and here their young can hide successfully among the grassy tufts.

Nesting.—My first glimpse of a black-necked stilt was a complete surprise, and my first nest was in an unexpected situation. On May 8, 1903, we landed on Lake Key, in the Florida Keys, a low flat, open island with sandy shores and a lake in the middle of it. We walked across the beach, through a narrow strip of low red mangrove bushes and came to a little muddy pond, very shallow and dotted with little mangrove seedlings. Here we were delighted to see about half a dozen black-necked stilts, long slender birds, very striking in appearance and actions, the jet black wings contrasting finely with the pure white under parts and the long pink legs trailing behind. They seemed so much concerned, so unwilling to leave, and kept up such an incessant racket, that we felt sure that they were nesting there. A short search soon revealed two of their nests, both very conspicuously placed. The first nest, containing four quite heavily incubated eggs, was very prettily located under a little red mangrove root, just as it entered the ground; a hollow had been scraped in the sand and profusely lined with small bits of shell and pieces of dry sticks. The second nest was in plain sight on the open beach of finely broken shell in a small colony of least terns' nests, the three dark-colored eggs showing up very conspicuously on the white sand. The nest cavity measured six inches outside and four inches inside and was lined with pieces of shell, sticks, and fish bones, an odd and uncomfortable bed for the young. Besides the least terns, Wilson plovers were nesting close by, rather an unusual association for the marsh-loving stilts.

Gilbert R. Rossignol writes to me of a colony of some 23 nests that he found in a somewhat similar location on an island in Lake Kissimmee, Florida, on April 14, 1908. "The nests were all built high upon the gravelly beach and were lined with bits of fresh-water snails." This colony was wiped out later by a rise of water in the lake.

Herbert W. Brandt has sent me some notes on this species as he found it breeding in Kleberg County, Texas, on May 28, 1919. He found seven nests in a colony of about ten pairs on "a watery, marshy meadow covering about a square mile, the water being 6 to 12 inches deep." He describes one of the nests as "composed of sticks made up into a floating platform, about four inches high and well made. The lining was small sticks and the top basin shallow and nicely made. The water, exceedingly high from recent rains, was up to the eggs, so that the nest was wet." I saw a similar colony near Brownsville, Tex.

Near Los Banos, California, stilts were nesting all over the flooded meadows, on little hummocks, on the muddy islands, and along the margins of ponds. On the drier shores and banks the nests were very simple structures, hollows in the ground, lined with small twigs, weed stems, and grasses; but in the wet places, where they were liable to be flooded, they were quite elaborately elevated to considerable heights. Mr. Dawson (1923) writes:

It is when the water rises that the birds rise to the occasion, and get busy with nest building. Sedges, sticks, water plants with clinging soil, anything movable, is seized and forced under the threatened eggs. Indeed, so apprehensive is the bird of the growing necessity, that as often as she leaves the nest she will seize loose material and fling it over her shoulder for future use. The eggs themselves, protectively colored in bister and black, are mauled about and soiled in the mud; but the day is saved. I have seen a stilt, painfully conscious no doubt, squatted on a truncated cone of vegetation 8 inches in height and as broad across the top, a veritable Noah's ark of safety.

John G. Tyler (1913) says:

Nesting colonies of these waders in the Fresno district are never very large, consisting of from 6 to 20 pairs, as a rule, the most extensive one of which I have any knowledge containing an average of about 30 pairs each season. Possibly the numerous small ponds will not support a great many birds, and as suitable pastures abound in certain sections it is not a difficult matter for all the birds to be accommodated without any crowding. As these nesting colonies of stilts are invariably in pastures with cattle tramping everywhere over the fields, it seems almost a miracle that any of the eggs escape being destroyed; and yet I have not one iota of positive proof of such a disaster ever overtaking a stilt's nest, while in many instances I have known the eggs to hatch safely almost under the feet of stock. It is known that few animals will purposely step on any living object of a size large enough to be noticed, and the writer is convinced that a stilt simply remains on her nest and by her vociferousness and possibly even with a few vigorous thrusts of her long bill causes a grazing cow to direct her course away from the nest. A lack of judgment causes many nests to be abandoned each year, and a colony of stilts that are not able to distinguish between a permanent pond and one that has been caused by irrigation is liable to find that by the time sets of eggs are complete the water has disappeared and a new nesting site must be chosen. Fortunately the larger colonies always seem to be located near the permanent ponds, but there are numerous scattering pairs that are deceived each summer.

I have often been surprised at the great diversity of nesting sites, even in the same colony, it being not an unusual occurrence to find nests entirely surrounded by water—little islands of mud and sticks often built up out of water several inches deep. Not less common are the platforms of dried grass placed just at the water's edge, or the slight excavations that, killdeerlike, are placed on the bare ground a hundred yards or more from the nearest water. In one colony the majority of the nests were built on a levee that extended through the pond and were so near the waters edge that, although most of the nests were quite elaborate platforms of dry grass and twigs, the lower parts of the eggs were wet. Undoubtedly a high wind would have caused the wavelets to break over the levee. At this same place there were several nests far out on the open dry ground without even a spear of grass for concealment or protection, and with hardly a vestige of nesting material under the eggs. At one pond where two pairs had taken up summer quarters there was one nest on the bare black ground where the white breast of the sitting female was the most conspicuous object imaginable and could be seen at a glance from a distance of three or four hundred feet. In direct contrast was the other nest; for it was artfully hidden among rather rank salt grass some distance from the pond, and when the sitting bird flattened herself upon it, as is the custom of this species when endeavoring to escape observation, she might have readily been overlooked from any near-by point.

The actions of different pairs of stilts when their nesting colonies are invaded are also variable. Sometimes a flock of noisy screeching birds will press close about the intruder, some hanging in the air on rapidly beating wings, others bouncing along the ground by leaps and bounds, raising and lowering their wings continually; while others go through every conceivable motion both on the ground and in the air. It seems that the larger the colony the more demonstrative the birds are; for in several instances where only one or two pairs were breeding the female would sneak from the nest in a guilty manner and quietly join her mate on the opposite side of the pond, where they would remain almost motionless or feed nervously along the margin of the pond.

Eggs.—Four eggs are usually laid by the black-necked stilt, sometimes five, rarely seven, and occasionally only three. The shape is ovate, often somewhat pointed, and there is little, if any, gloss. The ground color is dull "honey yellow," with an olivaceous tinge, or "cream buff." The eggs are irregularly spotted or covered with small blotches of brownish black or black. Sometimes there are a few blackish scrawls and usually a few underlying small spots of drab. They are often stained with mud. The measurements of 75 eggs, in the United States National Museum, average 44 by 30.5 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 48 by 30, 47 by 32, 40.5 by 30, and 46 by 28 millimeters.

Young.—Incubation is shared by both sexes, but we have no accurate information as to its duration. Mr. Dawson (1923) says:

The infant can make shift to shuffle away from the nest and into cover within the hour, if need be, but he can not negotiate his stilts until several hours have elapsed after hatching; and he feels decidedly pale and tottery, like a young colt, until the day after.

Dr. Frank M. Chapman (1908) writes:

On May 23, their eggs were hatching, and in June the snipelike young were widely distributed over the marsh. They invariably attempted to escape observation by squatting with neck outstretched, but the parents, whether one approached their eggs or young, expressed their solicitude by a surprising extravagance of motion, all apparently designed to draw attention to themselves. I was at times surrounded by hopping, fluttering stilts, all calling loudly, waving their wings, bounding into the air to hang there with dangling legs and beating pinions, and executing other feats which would have done credit to acrobatic marionettes.

Dr. Alexander Wetmore (1925) says:

The young grow rapidly, and the increase in the length of their legs is amazing. Until the bones are well formed the young, when not feeding, prefer to rest with the full length of the tarsus extended on the ground, but even then appear as tall as other shore birds of similar body size. Stilts show considerable attachment for their young, and, unless dispersed by some untoward accident, frequently remain in family groups long after the young are able to care for themselves. As the latter become strong on the wing the family parties range over the country in search of suitable feeding grounds. As the nights grow cold in the North the birds band together in larger flocks and finally on some moonlit night in September, young and old may be heard calling as they pass overhead on their southward migration.

Plumages.—Robert Ridgway (1919) describes the downy young stilt as follows:

Upper parts light buffy grayish mottled with dusky, the back and rump with several large blotches of black; head, neck, and under parts buffy whitish or brownish white, the crown, occiput, and hind neck grayish, the crown with a mesial streak of black, the occiput with several irregular spots of the same.

The juvenal plumage appears first on the scapulars, back and breast; and the tail is the last to appear. The young bird is fully feathered, except the tail, by the time it is two-thirds grown. In fresh juvenal plumage the color pattern is much like that of the adult female; the crown, hind neck, back and wings are brownish black, all the feathers being edged or tipped with "cinnamon"; the edgings are narrowest on the head, upper back and wing coverts, and broadest on the scapulars and tertials; the face, sides of the head and all under parts are white; the central tail feathers are dusky and the others are white, washed with dusky near the tip, and all tipped with pinkish buff. This plumage is worn all through the fall and winter, with no change except by wear and fading; before winter the edgings have largely disappeared.

A partial prenuptial molt of the body plumage occurs in early spring, when young birds become indistinguishable from adults, except for some retained juvenal wing coverts. Adults probably have a partial prenuptial molt in early spring and a complete postnuptial molt in late summer, but there are no well marked seasonal differences in plumage.

Food.—Doctor Wetmore (1925) writes:

Stilts feed by picking up insects on muddy shores or in shallow water, and though not averse to frequenting alkaline areas, on the whole prefer fresher water than do avocets. For detailed analysis, 80 stomachs of the black-necked stilt were available, distributed from March to August, and collected in California, Utah, Florida, and Porto Rico. Vegetable food in these amounted to only 1.1 per cent, whereas the animal matter formed 98.9 per cent. The birds are adept in seizing rapidly moving prey and in general are very methodical in their manner of obtaining food. Gravel is picked up to some extent to aid digestion, and part of the seeds taken may have been swallowed for the same purpose.

The animal food consisted mainly of insects, aquatic bugs and beetles making up the largest items; dragonfly nymphs, caddisflies, mayfly nymphs, flies, billbugs, mosquito larvae, and grasshoppers were included. Crawfishes, snails, and a few tiny fishes were eaten. The vegetable food consisted mainly of a few seeds of aquatic and marsh plants.

Behavior.—The flight of the stilt is steady and direct, but not particularly swift; the bill is held straight out in front and the legs are extended backwards, giving the bird a long, slim appearance. Over their eggs or young, stilts sometimes hover on steadily beating wings with dangling legs. In their excitement they sometimes climb up into the air and make startling dives.

But stilts are essentially waders; for wading they are highly specialized, and here they show to best advantage. At times they seem a bit wabbly on their absurdly long and slender legs, notably when trembling with excitement over the invasion of their breeding grounds. But really they are expert in the use of these well-adapted limbs, and one can not help admiring the skillful and graceful way in which they wade about in water breast deep, as well as on dry land, in search of their insect prey. The legs are much bent at each step, the foot is carefully raised and gently but firmly planted again at each long stride. The legs are so long that when the bird is feeding on land it is necessary to bend the legs backward to enable the bill to reach the ground.

Stilts can swim and even dive if necessary, but they are very awkward at both, as might be expected with such long legs and the absence of webbed feet; they never indulge in either action except in cases of dire necessity. They are usually gentle and unsuspicious birds, much more easily approached than most large waders. On their breeding grounds they are especially fearless and demonstrative. Some of their amusing antics are well described by Mr. Dawson (1923) as follows:

While all are shouting lustily, the birds whose nests are more immediately threatened are doing decoy stunts of several fascinating sorts. The favorite line of effort is the broken-leg act, in which the bird collapses suddenly, as though one of its little pipestem legs had snapped in two. The act is performed with such sincerity, even when the bird is standing in only an inch or so of water, that it never ceases to be amusing. Moreover, the trick is repeated diligently every few feet, so that it begins to look as though the bird had taken some fakir vow to prostrate itself every third or fourth step. The avocet, now that one thinks of it, does the same thing; but it does it awkwardly or, as it were, cautiously, and so unconvincingly. It has manifestly copied from its more agile neighbor. The second line of effort, most faithfully pursued, is wing fluttering. In this, again, the stilt is rather the mistress. It has perfected a trick of putting up one wing at a time and letting the wind tousle it about, as though it were really broken. Of course it also flutters both wings, and goes through other nondescript flopping and fluttering performances, such as are common to the family of shore birds.

Voice.—My first impression of the note as heard on the breeding grounds was recorded as a loud, guttural whuck, whuck, whuck; at other times it has seemed harsh and shrill. Audubon (1840) referred to their ordinary notes as "a whistling cry, different from the cleek, cleek, cleek, which they emit when they have nests or young." C. J. Maynard (1896), speaking of the breeding season, says: "The note at this time was quite different from that given earlier in the season, as they now uttered short syllables sounding like put, put, put, repeated rapidly, that of the males being harsh, while the females gave it shriller and more continuous."

Fall.—Stuart T. Danforth (1925), who made some studies of a breeding colony of stilts in Porto Rico, thus describes their departure in the fall:

By the latter part of June the adults had begun to flock again, and by the middle of September all the stilts at the lagoon (155 by actual count) had formed one compact flock. This count was made on September 17. By September 20 only about 50 were left; on September 23 there were 20; on September 27 and September 30, 16; on October 7, 5. After that none were seen.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—The United States, and Central and South America.

Breeding range.—North to Oregon (Klamath Lake, Burns and Malheur Lake); Utah (Brigham and Salt Lake City); Colorado (San Luis Lake and Fort Garland); Louisiana (Black Bayou, Calcasieu, Abbeville, and Vermilion Bay); and Florida (Titusville). East to Florida (Titusville, Cape Canaveral, Kissimmee, Eden, and Lake Hicpoche); the Bahama Islands (Andros, Inagua and Green Cay); Cuba (Manzanillo); Porto Rico (Guanica lagoon); Venezuela (lagoon of Savonet and Curacao); Peru (Upper Ucayali River); and probably Ecuador (Guayaquil). South to probably Ecuador (Guayaquil); and probably the Galapagos Islands (Chatham and Albemarle Islands). West probably, to the Galapagos Islands (Albemarle Island); probably Nicaragua (Momotombo); probably Oaxaca (Tehuantepec); Tamaulipas (Tampico and Matamoras); probably lower California (San Quintin Bay); California (Santa Ana, Los Angeles, Castac Lake, Buena Vista Lake, Alila, Tulare Lake, Fresno, Los Banos, Stockton, Sutter County, and Tule Lake); and Oregon (Klamath Lake). There also is a breeding record for Saskatchewan (Fort Qu'Appelle, June 13, 1894).

Winter range.—The black-necked stilt is no doubt resident throughout most or all of its breeding range in Central and South America. At this season it has been detected north to lower California (San Jose del Cabo, Santiago, and Cape San Lucas); Sinaloa (Mazatlan and Escuinapa); Tamaulipas (Matamoras); Texas (Brownsville and Refugio County); rarely Louisiana (Grand Chenier); Florida (Fort Myers); and Porto Rico.

Spring migration.—Early dates of arrival are: California, Ojai, March 27, Daggett, April 10, Escondido, April 13, Stockton, April 13, Santa Barbara, April 14, and Fort Crook, April 19, Oregon, Narrows, April 8, and Malheur Lake, April 17; Arizona, Palo Verde, April 4; New Mexico, State College, May 17, and Lake Buford, May 30; Colorado, Denver, May 5; Idaho, Rupert, April 28; and Montana, Billings, May 19. Migrants also have been observed to arrive at points on the Gulf coast as Texas, Port Lavaca, March 18; Louisiana, Sandfly Pass, March 16, and Vermilion Bay, April 27; and Florida, Merritts Island, March 10, and Titusville, March 11.

Fall migration.—Late dates of fall departure are: Oregon, Narrows, October 26; California, Fresno, September 15, Tulare Lake, October 7, Buttonwillow, November 13, and Riverdale, November 19; Utah, Ogden, October 8; Colorado, Windsor, November 5; and New Mexico, Jornada, September 25.

Casual records.—The black-necked stilt has been reported from many of the eastern States but some of these are indefinite or otherwise unsatisfactory. Among those that are considered valid are Mississippi, Vicksburg, July 13, 1913; Alabama, Leighton, August 26, 1892; South Carolina, Sullivans Island, May, 1881 (possibly breeding); New Jersey, Stone Harbor, April 24, 1894, and Cape May, July 21, 1843; New York, Great South Bay, two taken, one in 1843; New Hampshire, Rye Beach, reported as taken several years previous to 1902; Maine, Rockland, one taken early in May, 1889; New Brunswick, Maces Bay, one in September, 1880; Iowa, Hawarden, one in 1890, Webster County, several in the summer of 1898; Wisconsin, Racine, April, 1847; North Dakota, Hankinson, July 29, 1921; Kansas, Wichita, one killed in 1906; and Nebraska, a few occurrences around Omaha in 1893, 1894, and 1895. One also was taken on San Nicholas Island of the Santa Barbara group, California, on May 25, 1897.

Egg dates.—California: 140 records, April 26 to August 4, 70 records, May 21 to June 8. Utah: 12 records, May 10 to June 24, 6 records, May 14 to 23. Texas: 23 records, April 17 to June 11; 12 records, April 26 to May 28. Florida: 90 records, April 14 to June 25; 45 records, April 14 to May 6.

Family SCOLOPACIDAE, Snipes and Sandpipers

SCOLOPAX RUSTICOLA Linnaeus
EUROPEAN WOODCOCK

HABITS

This fine large member of the snipe family is widely distributed in Europe and Asia and has occurred as a straggler in North America half a dozen times or more at various points from Newfoundland to Virginia.

Seton Gordon (1915) gives a very good idea of its distribution and migrations, as follows:

The principal summer home of the woodcock is the northern portion of the Old World, for it is found extending from eastern Siberia to the western extremity of Europe. The woodcock nesting in Kamschatka migrate to Japan with the advent of the cold weather, those frequenting Mongolia to China, while those which have nested in western Siberia and on the plateau of Tibet move down to Burma, India, Afghanistan, and Persia. Our own winter visitors are those birds which have bred in Scandinavia, Finland, and perhaps Russia. Those which press on south past our islands arrive in Palestine, in North Africa, and in Egypt. Throughout Russia the woodcock is found nesting, extending though in diminished numbers, as far south as the Caucasus and the Crimea. It also breeds in central France and in northern Italy. Some of its most distant nesting grounds are in Kashmir and Japan, while it has been found breeding in the Himalayas at the height of 10,000 feet. In the Faroe Islands it has occurred as a passing visitor and has also been recorded from Spitsbergen.

Courtship.—The same writer refers to a nuptial performance akin to the evening song flight of our woodcock, of which he says:

Immediately after sunset the entire male woodcock population leave their secluded haunts, and fly backwards and forwards over the same line of country, uttering a peculiar cry unheard except during the season of nesting. The notes may be termed the song of the males, and are uttered by the birds previous to their departure for their feeding grounds in the evening. The song commences with grunting cries, ending up with a sharp and penetrating note repeated maybe several times in quick succession, pisick, pisick. At times two cock birds during their aerial maneuvers cross one another's path, and then ensues a stern chase over the tree tops, the birds uttering repeatedly their chirping cries. The "roding" of the woodcock never takes place before the sun has set during the earlier part of spring, but at a more advanced period, in May, the birds commence their evening flights rather earlier. The flighting is continued till deep twilight has settled over the glen, but ceases before night. In the morning I, personally, have never heard this "roding," but it is said to be recommenced before daybreak, and to cease previous to full daylight. The woodcock when roding does not fly repeatedly over the same part of the wood; there is an interval between each of its appearances.

It is said to pass over the same country three times in the course of the evening. On the first visit it flies high and usually fast; on the second its progress is lower and more leisurely; while on the third and last the bird moves just above the trees.

Nesting.—In the southern portions of Great Britain the woodcock is a very early breeder, many birds nesting in March and some in February. Late nestings in July indicate the probability that two broods are sometimes raised, though this is unusual among waders. Mr. Gordon (1915) describes the nesting habits as follows:

The nesting ground is usually a wood, deciduous trees, being, I think preferred, owing to the soft layer of fallen leaves covering the ground. Close-grown plantations are rarely chosen as nesting sites, and small belts of birch and oak are favorite nesting grounds, provided that there is plenty of space between the trees. It is my experience that the birds dislike dense cover in which to nest; a few broken-down braken offer a suitable position, or the bird may scrape out a hollow amongst the deep layers of fallen beech and oak leaves which cover the ground beneath these trees. The eggs usually number four, but at times only three are found. Their ground color is normally buff colored, and they are liberally spotted and blotched by dark reddish-brown markings. Nothing more primitive than the nest of the woodcock can be found in the bird world. It is merely a slight hollow scraped in the ground and generally without intentional lining of any kind. The mother woodcock often sits very hard on her eggs, especially if incubation be far advanced, for she relies on the close harmonization of her plumage with her surroundings. Sometimes I have been able to approach to within a few feet of such a bird, and by not the slightest movement did she betray that she was alive. As the result of her early nesting, the woodcock has sometimes to cover her eggs when snow lies around to a considerable depth.

Rev. Henry H. Slater (1898) says that the nest is "often at the foot of a young Scotch fir, or other tree."

Eggs.—The European woodcock usually lays four eggs, but as many as six and even eight have been found in a nest, probably the product of two birds. These are much like large eggs of the American woodcock. They are about ovate in shape and have a slight gloss. The ground colors vary from "deep olive buff" to "cream buff." They are usually sparingly, but sometimes quite heavily, marked with irregular spots and small blotches. The underlying markings, in light shades of drab are numerous and quite conspicuous. Over these are varying amounts of spots and blotches of light browns, ranging in color from "snuff brown" to "clay color." Occasionally there are a few spots or scrawls of "bister" or "clove brown" about the larger end. Herbert Massey (1913) describes the eggs as follows:

The ground color ranges from the palest cream (nearly white) through deeper cream to pale buff, yellow-buff, and the deepest brown buff (many of the eggs of this latter type having a distinct pink tone), speckled and spotted and blotched with yellow-brown, dark brown, and purplish gray. As a rule, the eggs in the same set are fairly uniform in the pattern of the markings, but occasionally you get a set with one egg much more marked than the other three, and in many cases you find two distinct shades of ground color in the same set.

The measurements of 100 eggs, furnished by F. C. R. Jourdain, average 43.8 by 33.6 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 49 by 34.8, 44.9 by 36.4, 40.2 by 34, and 43.1 by 31.6 millimeters.

Young.—Incubation lasts for 20 or 21 days and is performed by the female only. The young remain in the nest but a short time, where they are brooded by their mother and carefully tended by both parents. Several good observers have seen the mother bird carry her young away between her legs. Dresser (1871) quotes John J. Dalgleish as follows:

I have had on three occasions the good fortune to see the woodcock in the act of carrying her young. On the first occasion the bird rose from my feet one day in the month of June, in a thick coppice cover in Argyllshire, and flew with her strange burden carried between her thighs for about 30 yards, in the manner well described in a note in Mr. Gray's Birds of the West of Scotland. On following her she again rose, still carrying the young one, and flew into some thick cover. On this and the next occasion, which was in Perthshire, the birds uttered no cry; but the last time I witnessed this curious habit, which was on the 5th of May last, the bird made the peculiar cry alluded to in the note in Mr. Gray's work. On this occasion I could observe the bird more distinctly, as it was in an old oak cover, with very little underwood, where I discovered her. On rising she flew from 35 to 40 yards, calling as above mentioned, and then, alighting among some grass, seemed to flutter along, still retaining hold of the chick. On raising her again, the same maneuver was repeated, only that the distance flown each time was greater, but always in the segment of a circle, as if she were unwilling to leave the rest of the brood. On returning to the spot where she rose at first, I discovered one of these, which was more than half grown, the quill feathers being well formed, and must altogether have formed rather a heavy burden. On taking it up, it uttered a cry, which was at once responded to by the parent bird, although the latter did not again take to wing from the bushes into which it had ultimately flown.

Abel Chapman (1924) writes:

For many years a question used to be discussed as to woodcocks carrying their young; but the matter never specially interested me, until, on August 3, 1915, I happened to see it with my own eyes. This was in Houxty wood, and since then I have witnessed the performance on many occasions. During the war this wood was largely felled for military purposes and the area thus cleared, and subsequently replanted, has become a specially favored resort of our long-billed friends. The annexed sketch, made there on June 15, 1920, shows exactly how the feat is accomplished. That particular woodcock rose on the hillside a trifle above me, slowly flapping by close in front, and looking back at me over her shoulder. What first struck my attention was the curiously depressed tail, held almost vertical; then the mother's feet, hanging down below; finally the youngster, with its very short beak, pressed between its parent's thighs. Since then I have witnessed many similar exhibitions; indeed, in summer they are almost daily on view.

Plumages.—The downy young of the European woodcock is thus described in Witherby's (1920) Handbook:

Forehead and broad band over eye to nape light ochraceous buff, a russet median streak from base of upper mandible to crown; crown russet intermixed with light ochraceous buff, centre of nape russet, sides light ochraceous buff; an irregular and interrupted russet band from nape to uropygial tuft, another across wing; rest of upper parts and sides of body with irregular bands and patches of ochraceous buff and russet; from base of upper mandible to eye a broad black-brown streak; a small patch of same behind eye; a patch of russet on lower throat; rest of under parts light ochraceous buff.

The juvenal plumage is therein fully described. It is much like the adult, differing only in minor details, but can easily be recognized by the looser or softer structure of the feathers. Practically all of this plumage, except the primaries and secondaries, is replaced in the fall by the first winter plumage, which is indistinguishable from the adult. Adults have a complete postnuptial molt from July to December and a partial prenuptial molt, involving nearly everything but the wings, from February to May.

Food.—Mr. Gordon (1915) refers to the feeding habits of the woodcock as follows:

It feeds mainly by night on wet, boggy ground, and eats an enormous quantity of worms; indeed, it may swallow almost its own weight of food in the course of a single day. When the blackberries have ripened the woodcock betake themselves to the hillsides and consume great quantities of the fruit.

Mr. Slater (1898) says:

I have occasionally flushed woodcocks at night from wet rushy fields, where they were doubtless probing the ground for worms and larvae, occasionally turning over the droppings of cattle for concealed beetles. But they also feed in woods to a certain extent, turning the dead leaves over to find insects, etc. The accounts of the extent of their appetites and of the amount of worms, etc., which they will put away at a sitting are surprising. These they find in the earth with their bills, which are modified into a very delicate organ of touch.

If the horny epidermis be removed, a number of small pits of a hexagonal shape will be seen in the bone at the end of the bill, remotely suggesting an incipient honey comb. In each one of these pits a minute fibril of the olfactory nerve has its termination, and by this means, when the bill is thrust into the soft, wet soil, the slightest wriggle of the least living creature is instantly telegraphed to the woodcock's sensibilities.

Witherby's Handbook (1920) includes the following items in its food: Earthworms; also insects (coleoptera and their larvae, orthoptera (Forficula) larvae of lepidoptera, etc.); small mollusca, etc. Grains of maize recorded on one occasion in stomach, and mussels (Mytilus) also said to be eaten, as well as small crustacea.

Behavior.—Mr. Gordon (1915) says:

During its flight the bill of the woodcock is pointed downwards, and the wings are not extended to their full stretch. It seldom makes sustained flights, however, except on migration. During a shoot at Alnick a woodcock was seen to alight on the ground and then to throw leaves over its back, presumably to hide itself from the guns. If so, it would seem that the woodcock is one of the most sagacious of birds.

Selby (1833) writes:

The haunts selected by these birds, for their residence during the daytime, are usually the closest brakes of birch and other brushy underwood, and where the ground, from the deep shade, Is nearly free from herbage; and, for this reason, thick fir plantations of 10 or 12 years' growth are a favorite resort. In woods that are very extensive they are generally found, and abound most in thickets by the sides of open glades, or where roads intersect, as by these they pass to and from their feeding ground at evening and in the dawn of the morning. Unless disturbed, they remain quietly at roost upon the ground during the whole day, but as soon as the sun is wholly below the horizon, they are in full activity, and taking flight nearly at the same instant, leave the woods and cover for the adjoining meadows, or open land, over which they disperse themselves, and are fully engaged in search of food during the whole night.

Mr. Slater (1898) observes:

It is well known that woodcocks follow certain routes to their favorite feeding grounds in the evening, as they also have preferences for certain woods and certain parts of woods to lie in during the day. In short, they are very peculiar and fanciful in their tastes, and are guided by circumstances not apparent to us in their liking for one place rather than for another which seems to our eyes to offer the same advantages. A wood above my father's late house, in Northumberland, was a regular passing place for cocks, and at dusk on any April or May evening a sight of half a dozen at least was a certainty, as they passed rapidly above the trees, announced, long before they themselves were visible, by their peculiar half squeak, half whistle. I have here seen them "tilting" in the air in the manner described by St. John and others. It has been suggested that this tilting (at which time they tumble and twirl about in the air in pairs and threes, apparently prodding at one another with their bills) is connected with pairing, but I can not think so, as I have witnessed it as late as the end of May. I rather think it is pure playfulness, as of children just out of school, after lying concealed and quiet most of the day.

According to Yarrell (1871), woodcocks sometimes become exhausted and fall into the sea on their migrations; but they do not always perish, for he says:

A woodcock when flushed on the coast has been known to settle on the sea, and when again disturbed rose without difficulty and flew away. Numerous instances are recorded of woodcocks alighting on the decks of ships in the English Channel and elsewhere. The rapidity of flight of this bird is at times so great that a pane of plate glass more than three-eighths of an inch thick has been smashed by the contact, and one was actually impaled on the weather cock of one of the churches in Ipswich.

Fall.—Mr. Slater (1898), writing of the fall migration in Great Britain, says:

Though many breed with us, there is a large migration from the North in the late autumn. If the moon is full about the end of October, they appear to come in a big "rush" then, but sometimes in driblets as early as the end of September, as late as mid-November. But their movements are largely influenced by the wind and atmosphere as well as the moon; if the weather is foggy or they are exhausted by a heavy contrary wind, they drop on the coast as soon as they touch it, and large bags are sometimes made on the sand hills by those on the lookout for them. If the wind is light and weather clear, they seem to pass inland at once to favorite and suitable covers. Should frost come—which drives the worms down, and also prevents the birds from probing—cock move south and west. Therefore, it is in our southwest counties, Wales and West Ireland, where, owing to the Gulf stream frost and cold are seldom severe, that the best woodcock shooting is to be had, after the seasonal migration is over. Though they travel as a rule at night, and chiefly at the time of the full moon, this is not invariably the case; on October 28, 1881, I saw a woodcock come straight in from the sea, 20 yards high, and pitch on a bare patch of shingle; this was shortly before midday, and I thought it such an unusual circumstance that I skinned the bird for my collection.

Winter.—The woodcock is a winter resident as well as a migrant in Great Britain. Dresser (1871) writes:

Their numbers are, of course, greatly augmented in the winter, large numbers of immigrants being added to those which breed (as after mentioned); indeed I am not sure whether all of those we have in winter are immigrants, and that those which breed with us move further south in pursuance of their migratory instinct; but this is a point very difficult to discover. In the district I now allude to, their numbers are much diminished on the appearance of severe, frosty weather, when they appear to go to the coast, where they find the feeding grounds more open; if, however, the frost be slight, they remain.

On the west coast of Argyllshire they are found in greater numbers, and are not so much confined to covers, being found in open weather scattered through all the sheltered glens where there is any brushwood or even bracken. On the occurrence of frost, however, they all gather to the low-lying covers near the sea, where its influence serves to keep open the springs; and in such weather very large bags are often made, as they seem to come not only from the outlying spots above mentioned, but from the inland districts, where the frost has sealed up every one of their usual haunts.

DISTRIBUTION

Breeding range.—Northern Europe and Asia. North in Scandinavia to latitude 67°, in Lapland and Finland, in western Russia to 65°, and in eastern Russia to 64°. East to the Sea of Okhotsk. West to the British Isles. South to the Azores, Canaries, and Madeira (where it is resident), the Pyrenees, Alps, Transylvania, Carpathians, Himalayas (up to 10,000 feet), Mongolia, and Japan.

Winter range.—Great Britain, the Mediterranean basin, northern Africa and southern Asia, Persia, India, Burma, China, Japan, and occasionally Ceylon.

Casual records.—Casual in the Faeroes, Spitsbergen, Greenland, and North America. Prof. Wells W. Cooke (1912) says:

It wanders occasionally to eastern North America, and has occurred in Loudoun County, Va., in 1873 (Coues); Chester County, Pa., the end of November, 1886 (Stone); one was taken near Shrewsbury, N. J., December 6, 1859 (Lawrence); one, September, 1889, somewhere in New Jersey (Warren); one, probably of this species, near Newport, R. I. (Baird, Brewer, and Ridgway); one at Chambly, Quebec, November 11, 1882 (Wintle); and one at St. John, Newfoundland, January 9, 1862 (Sclater).

Egg dates.—Great Britain: 29 records, March 9 to August 5; 15 records, April 18 to June 22.

RUBICOLA MINOR (Gmelin)
AMERICAN WOODCOCK

HABITS

This mysterious hermit of the alders, this recluse of the boggy thickets, this wood nymph of crepuscular habits is a common bird and well distributed in our Eastern States, widely known, but not intimately known. Its quiet retiring habits do not lead to human intimacy. It may live almost in our midst unnoticed. Its needs are modest, its habitat is circumscribed, and it clings with tenacity to its favorite haunts even when closely encroached upon by civilization. The banks of a stream running through my place, close to the heart of the city, were once famous woodcock covers in which the birds persisted long after the surroundings were built up; and even within recent years I have had a pair of woodcocks living in the shrubbery along the stream for a week or two at a time.

Who knows where to look for woodcocks? Their haunts are so varied that one may not be surprised to find them almost anywhere, especially on migrations. Flight birds are here to-day and gone to-morrow. Their favorite resorts are alder thickets along the banks of meandering streams or spring-fed boggy runs; rich bottom lands or scrubby hollows, overgrown with willows, maples, alders, and poison sumac; or the scrubby edges of damp, second-growth woods, mixed with birches; any such place will suit them where they can find moist soil, not too wet or too sour, well supplied with earthworms. During the hot, sultry weather of July and August, the molting season, they seek the seclusion of cool, moist, leafy woods or dense thickets; or they may resort to the cool hillside or mountain bogs, fed by cool springs; or, if the weather is very dry, they may be found in the wet grassy meadows. Woodcocks do not like too much water and, after heavy rains, they may be driven from their usual covers to well-drained hillsides, sparsely covered with small birches, maples, locusts, and cedars. Sometimes they are found on the tops of mountains; George B. Sennett (1887) saw a pair on the top of Roan Mountain in North Carolina, at an elevation of 6,000 feet, "in a clump of balsams; the overflow from numerous springs which had their sources at this spot formed an open, adjoining marsh of several acres."

Woodcocks often appear in unexpected places, such as city parks, yards, gardens, orchards, or even lawns. John T. Nichols writes to me:

A neighbor (Mr. W. S. Dana) called for me at about 10 o'clock in the morning of a sparklingly clear, rather cool summer's day, to show me a woodcock that was feeding on his lawn, which slopes down to an almost fresh water arm of Moriches Bay. We found the bird still busily engaged where he had left it. It was out in the bright sunlight, crouched, walking about slowly but continuously. It held its body in an unsteady wavering manner, and was picking and digging about the roots of the short grass stubble, apparently obtaining some food too small for us to determine. The piece of lawn where the bird was operating was low and flat, adjacent to the edge of the water where protected by a low bulkhead. The ground was slightly moist, perhaps from seepage, which may have accounted for its presence. It was remarkably unsuspicious, allowing us to crawl within 2 or 3 yards, before flying back to alight under the shade of near-by trees; but was a full-grown bird, strong on the wing.

I have, more than once, seen a woodcock crouching in the short grass beside a country road, quite unconcerned as I drove past. I have frequently seen one in my yard about the shrubbery and I remember seeing my father stand on his front piazza and shoot one that was standing under an arborvitae hedge. Moist cornfields are often favorite resorts for woodcocks in summer.

Spring.—The woodcock is the first of our waders to migrate north and one of the earliest of all our migrants, coming with the bluebirds and the robins, as soon as winter has begun to loosen its grip. The date depends on the weather and is very variable, for the bird must wait for a thaw to unlock its food supply in the bogs and spring holes. Walter H. Rich (1907) has known the woodcock to arrive in Maine as early as February 10, and says that early birds find a living about the big ant hills, until the alder covers are ready for them.

In Audubon's (1840) time the migration must have been very heavy, for he says:

At the time when the woodcocks are traveling from the south toward all parts of the United States, on their way to their breeding places, these birds, although they migrate singly, follow each other with such rapidity, that they may be said to arrive in flocks, the one coming directly in the wake of the other. This is particularly observable by a person standing on the eastern banks of the Mississippi or the Ohio, in the evening dusk, from the middle of March to that of April, when almost every instant there whizzes past him a woodcock, with a velocity equaling that of our swiftest birds. See them flying across and low over the broad stream; the sound produced by the action of their wings reaches your ear as they approach, and gradually dies away after they have passed and again entered the woods.

No such flights can be seen to-day, but we occasionally have a comparatively heavy migration; such a flight occurred in 1923 and is thus described in some notes from Edward H. Forbush:

The most remarkable occurrence of the past two months was the prevalence of migrating woodcocks over a large part of southern New England and along the coastal regions to Nova Scotia. The first woodcock was reported in Massachusetts the last week in February and from the first week in March onward woodcocks were noted in slowly increasing numbers over a large part of New England. From March 22 to the first week in April the number of these birds scattered through Connecticut and eastern Massachusetts was remarkable. At evening one could find them almost anywhere. They were seen in the most unlikely places even in daylight. They were in all the towns around Boston and in the suburbs of the city itself, and west at least to the Connecticut Valley they were even more numerous in the woods and swamps. In southern New England at this time a large part of the snow had gone and in going had thawed the ground so that no frost remained and the woodcocks could find earthworms almost everywhere. Farther north there was not only frost in the ground but there was deep snow and the birds could find no food.

Courtship.—The woodcock may be found by those who seek him and know his haunts, but it is only for a short time during the breeding season, that he comes out into the open and makes himself conspicuous. His spectacular evening song-flight has been seen by many observers, and numerous writers have referred to it or described it more or less fully. William Brewster (1894) has given us the best and most complete account of it, but it is too long to quote in full here. I prefer to give my own version of it. The time to look and listen for it is during the laying and incubation period—say the month of April in Massachusetts, earlier farther south, even December and January in the Gulf States. The performance usually begins soon after sunset, as twilight approaches. On dark nights it ceases about when the afterglow finally disappears in the western sky; and it begins again in the morning twilight, lasting from dawn to broad daylight. On moonlight nights it is often continued through much or all of the night. The woodcock's nest is usually in some swampy thicket or on the edge of the woods, near an open pasture, field, or clearing; and here in the nearest open space, preferably on some knoll or low hillside within hearing of his sitting mate, the male woodcock entertains her with his thrilling performance. Sometimes, but not always, he struts around on the ground, with tail erect and spread, and with bill pointing downwards and resting on his chest. More often he stands still, or walks about slowly in a normal attitude, producing at intervals of a few seconds two very different notes—a loud, rasping, emphatic zeeip—which might be mistaken for the note of the nighthawk, and a soft guttural note, audible at only a short distance, like the croak of a frog or the cluck of a hen. Suddenly he rises, and flies off at a rising angle, circling higher and higher, in increasing spirals, until he looks like a mere speck in the sky, mounting to a height of 200 or 300 feet; during the upward flight he whistles continuously, twittering musical notes, like twitter, itter, itter, itter, repeated without a break. These notes may be caused by the whistling of his wings, but it seems to me that they are vocal. Then comes his true love song—a loud, musical, three-syllable note—sounding to me like chicharee, chicharee, chicharee uttered three times with only a slight interval between the outbursts; this song is given as the bird flutters downward, circling, zigzagging, and finally volplaning down to the ground at or near his starting point. He soon begins again on the zeeip notes and the whole act is repeated again and again. Sometimes two, or even three, birds may be performing within sight or hearing; occasionally one is seen to drive another away.

The performance has been similarly described by several others with slight variations. Mr. Brewster (1894) refers to what I have called the zeeip note as paap and the soft guttural note as p'tul, and says that—

"Each paap was closely preceded by a p'tul, so closely at times that the two sounds were nearly merged."

He counted the paaps as "uttered consecutively 31, 21, 37, 29, and 28 times."

Describing the action in detail, he says:

At each utterance of the paap the neck was slightly lengthened, the head was thrown upward and backward (much in the manner of a least flycatcher's while singing), the bill was opened wide and raised to a horizontal position, the wings were jerked out from the body. All these movements were abrupt and convulsive, indicating considerable muscular effort on the part of the bird. There was perhaps also a slight twitching of the tail, but this member was not perceptibly raised or expanded. The return of the several parts to their respective normal positions was quite as sudden as were the initial movements. The forward recovery of the head was well marked. The opening and shutting of the bill strongly suggested that of a pair of tongs. During the emission of the paap the throat swelled and its plumage was ruffled, but neither effect was more marked than with any of our small birds while in the act of singing.

The mouth opened to such an extent that I could look directly down the bird's throat, which appeared large enough to admit the end of one's forefinger. The lateral distension of the mouth was especially striking.

Referring to the song flight, he says: "Two flights, which I timed from the start to the finish, lasted, respectively, 57 and 59 seconds, the song 11 and 12 seconds, respectively." During the flight he followed him with a glass and "made out distinctly that while singing he alternately flapped his wings (several times in succession) and held them extended and motionless."

Francis H. Allen has sent me the following notes on his impression of the song:

In all that has been written of this wonderful performance of the woodcock's, I do not remember to have seen any full description of the song itself; the peeping, or peenting, on the ground, with the alternating water-dropping sounds and the accompaniment of head-jerking and wing-lifting has been described at length, as well as the remarkable spiral ascent into the air on whistling wings; but the character of the actual song, which is uttered at the summit of the ascent and as the bird comes down, is worth a little more attention. It begins in a confused series of chipping whistles which convey the impression of coming from at least three birds at once. These soon resolve themselves into groups of four to six—usually four in my experience—descending notes, the groups alternating with groups of high-pitched wing-whistles. These song notes vary in sweetness with different individuals, but are often very clear and musical. Not the least interesting aspect of the woodcock's evening hymn is the fact that so stolid appearing a bird should be moved by the fervor of courtship to execute so elaborate and exciting a performance. The excitement attending the affair as far as the spectator, or rather listener, is concerned lies to great extent in the wing whistling. When the woodcock first rises, the whistle is comparatively low, but as he mounts, the pitch rises and the rapidity of production increases. It is a steady succession of very short whistling notes for some time, but, when the bird and the whistle both reach their height, it comes in short groups of extremely rapid whistles alternating with brief intervals of motionless wings, as if the performer were breathless with excitement and effort and could not sustain his flight for long at a time. This is the effect, I mean. Probably the bird finds it easy enough, for he makes his flight at comparatively short intervals and during his periods of rest he is hard at work producing his harsh and unmusical nighthawk-like peent notes which involve a deal of muscular effort.

Lynds Jones (1909) says that "the bird floats downward by a crooked path, the while calling in coaxing tones p chuck tuck cuck oo, p chuck tuck cuckoo, uttered more slowly at first, regularly increasing in rapidity until the notes are almost a wheedling call." Isador S. Trostler (1893) describes a feature of the courtship which I have not seen mentioned elsewhere; he writes:

The birds often play in a very droll manner, running round and round each other in a small circle, their feathers ruffled, their wings lifted, and their long bills pointing nearly directly upward, with their heads resting on their backs.

Sometimes they will hop on one foot, holding the other at a queer angle, as if it had been broken or hurt. The male bird utters a low indescribable sound during all the playing, and the sight of these queer antics is worth more than to have seen Modjeska or Barrett in their celebrated plays.

Nesting.—The nesting sites of the woodcock are almost as varied as its haunts at other times. I have never known how or where to look for its nest; in over 40 years of field work I have seen but one nest with eggs. That was shown to me by Mrs. Mary M. Kaan, in Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts, on June 2, 1924. It was located where I should never have thought of looking for one, in an open, rocky hollow in open woods, within 50 feet of a bridle path on one side and about the same distance from a swampy ravine and brook on the other side. The nest was on a little hummock, surrounded by herbage about a foot high; it was a mere hollow in the ground lined with dead leaves. Although it was in fairly plain sight, it was a long time before I could see the sitting bird, even when it was pointed out to me. The bird sat like a rock, as this species usually does, while I took a series of photographs of it, moving gradually nearer. I even removed two leaves which were resting on her bill, and Mrs. Kaan stroked her on the back before she left. The nest held only three eggs, which were probably a second laying.

The usual nesting sites are in alder runs, swampy thickets, brushy corners in pastures, or in underbrush or tall weeds along the edges of woods. Woodcocks are early breeders and it sometimes happens that nests are buried under late falls of snow; in such cases the birds continue to sit as long as it is possible to do so. The nest is often placed at the foot of a small tree or bush, occasionally beside a log or stump or even under fallen brush. An abundance of fallen leaves seems to be an essential requirement, of which the nest is usually made and among which the bird relies on its protective coloration for concealment; but its big black eyes sometimes reveal it.

L. Whitney Watkins (1894) found a nest near Manchester, Michigan, in heavy timber, and within a few feet of a reed-bordered, springy spot, it was within 2 feet of an ovenbird's nest. Another nest he describes as follows:

The old bird, curiously enough, had selected for her nesting site an open spot where some fallen boughs had partially decayed, and within 5 feet of a picket fence enclosing an open pasture field. Opposite her on the other side, were ash, elm, oak, and other trees, of no considerable size, and round about were many frost-dried stems of aster and goldenrod, interspersed with the fallen leaves of the previous summer. Little of green was near.

E. G. Taber (1904) found a nest that was situated in a swampy corner of a field planted with corn, only 6 feet from the open, on a slightly raised portion of the ground. This corner was overgrown with black ash, soft maple, tag alders, and ferns, mingled with poison ivy. Mr. Brewster (1925) describes two, of several, nests found near Umbagog Lake, Maine, as follows:

One, containing four eggs, incubated perhaps as many days, was in the face of a low mound partially overarched by balsam shrubs surrounded on every side by pools of water, and some 80 yards from the lake shore near the middle of swampy, second-growth woods made up chiefly of aspen, red cherry, and yellow birch trees, 20 or 30 feet in height, beneath which grew alders rather abundantly. The female woodcock flew up from her eggs at least 15 feet in advance of me, and whistling faintly soared off over the tree tops to be seen no more. I flushed a male about 50 yards from this nest.

Of the other he says:

It was at the edge of a little fern-grown opening, on a mound covered with brakes flattened and bleached by winter snows, beneath a balsam scarce 2 feet high, and not dense enough to afford much concealment for the eggs which, indeed, caught my eye when I was 15 feet away, there being no bird on them.

Mr. Trostler (1893) writes:

Finding a nest one day, I disturbed the setting bird three times, and again four times on the next day, and on the morning of the third day I found that the birds had removed the eggs during the night and placed them in a new nest about 8 feet away, where I found the eggs. I had marked the eggs to avoid any mistake. The second nest was a mere hollow in the mossy ground, and was in the middle of an open place in tall marsh grass, while the first was neatly cupped and lined with the above-mentioned vegetable down.

Another singular habit of the woodcock that I have never seen noted is that of both birds setting upon the nest in wet or cold weather. In doing this they huddle very close together and face in opposite directions, and I have always noted that they have their heads thrown back and their bills elevated to an angle of about forty-five degrees.

Mr. Nichols writes to me:

On Long Island there is a favorite nesting station for woodcock, where the woodland gives place to broad fields, separated by narrow stands of big trees with a sparse tangled undergrowth of shrubbery and cat-brier, and where here and there a short fresh-water creek extends inland from the not distant bay.

Several writers have stated or implied that the woodcock raises two broods in a season. This would be an exception to the rule among waders. I believe that it normally nests early and that the late nests are merely second attempts at raising a brood, where the first nest has been destroyed.

An interesting case of nest-protecting display is thus described by Dr. Robert Cushman Murphy (1926):

She (assuming that it was the female) would allow us to come within a few feet before leaving her well-concealed position. Then she would spring from the nest, pitch on the ground close by, and, standing with the tail toward us, would raise and spread it so as to show to full advantage the double row of glistening white spots at the ends of the rectrices and under coverts. Next, flashing this striking banner slowly, she would move off among the trees in the attitude of a strutting turkey cock, stopping when we refused to follow, and then tripping ahead for a few steps, all the while bleating softly. The effect was astonishing; the ordinary low visibility of a woodcock against the forest floor no longer held, for the spotted fan of the tail had become a most conspicuous and arresting mark.

Eggs.—The American woodcock lays four eggs, sometimes only three, and rarely five. They vary in shape from ovate to rounded ovate and have a moderate gloss. The ordinary ground colors vary from "pinkish buff" to "cartridge buff" and in certain brown types from "pinkish buff" to "cinnamon." They are usually rather sparingly and more or less evenly marked with small spots, but sometimes these spots are concentrated about the larger end. In the lighter types, which are the most common, there are often many large blotches of light shades of "vinaceous drab" or "brownish drab"; these are conspicuous and often predominate. Mixed with them are numerous small spots of light browns, "cinnamon," "clay color," or "tawny olive." In the brown types these spots are in richer browns, "hazel," "russet," or "cinnamon brown," with the drab spots less conspicuous. The measurements of 53 eggs, in the United States National Museum, average 38 by 29 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 41 by 30 and 35 by 27.5 millimeters.

Young.—The period of incubation is 20 or 21 days. Both sexes assist in this and in the care of the young. An incubating woodcock is notorious as a close sitter and can not usually be flushed from the nest unless nearly trodden upon; often it can be touched or even lifted from the eggs. The young are rather feeble when first hatched and are brooded by the parent bird much of the time for the first day or two. If flushed from her brood of young the female flutters away for a short distance as if hardly able to fly, with dangling legs and tail depressed and spread. If the young are strong enough to walk, she calls to them making a clucking sound, to which they respond with a faint peeping sound, as they run toward her; having gathered them under her wings, she covers them again trusting to her concealing coloration. If the young are too young and feeble to run, she may return when she thinks it safe, and carry them off between her legs, one at a time. Several reliable and accurate observers have testified to seeing this done; some who have not seen it have doubted it. The following account by Edwyn Sandys (1904) seems convincing:

The nest in question was on a bit of level ground amid tall trees. The sole suggestion of cover was a lot of flattened leaves which lay as the snow had left them. Perhaps 10 yards away was an old rail fence about waist-high, and on the farther side of it was a clump of tall saplings. A man coming out of the wood told me he had just flushed a woodcock and had seen her brood, recently hatched and pointed out where they were. I went in to investigate, and located one young bird crouched on the leaves. It ran a few steps and again crouched, evidently not yet strong enough for any sustained effort. I went off, and hid behind a stump, to await developments. From this shelter the young bird was visible and it made no attempt to move. Presently the old one came fluttering back, alighted near the youngster, and walked to it. In a few moments she rose and flew low and heavily, merely clearing the fence, and dropping perhaps 10 yards within the thicket. Her legs appeared to be half bent, and so far as I could determine the youngster was held between them. Something about her appearance reminded me of a thing often seen—a shrike carrying off a small bird. I carefully marked her down, then glanced toward where the youngster had been. It was no longer there; and a few moments later it, or its mate, was found exactly where the mother had gone down. She flushed and made off in the usual summer flight.

William H. Fisher writes to me:

On May 16, 1903, I flushed an old bird at upper end of the Eagle Woods. She left three young on the ground, they remaining very quiet, cuddled in the dead leaves. In a few minutes she returned and alighted by them took one between her legs, holding it tight up to her belly, and flew off into a thicket. I sat and watched the other two young for about 15 minutes, hoping and expecting the mother bird would return, but, she not doing so, I got tired and left. As the usual set of eggs is four, I wonder if the old bird carried off one when she first flushed.

John T. Nichols tells, in his notes, of a brood found on Long Island:

This brood was found early in the morning by working painstakingly in a narrow stand of trees where a nest was suspected. The parent bird rose from almost under foot and fluttered away, as is customary in such cases, with tail spread, pointing down, legs dangling wide apart. It was perhaps a minute before the eye could pick out four young lying motionless side by side, so inconspicuous was their color against the background. For another couple of minutes they lay motionless. Then of one accord rolled to their feet and spreading their baby wings aloft, as though to balance, walked deliberately away with fine, scarcely audible cheeping, each in a slightly different direction. Apparently reliable reports are current of the woodcock carrying its young, but the characteristic peculiar labored flight, with deflected tail and widespread legs, just described, may also easily give such an impression erroneously.

Again he writes:

Just after sunrise on a clear morning I came upon 3 birds in an open field. Two of them flew in different directions, one swiftly and silently quickly disappeared, the other in the peculiar fluttering manner characteristic of a parent when surprised with young. As I reached the point where the two had risen the presence of helpless young was confirmed by the actions of a bird on the ground some 75 yards away, at the edge of the trees to which the parent had flown. Its head up, watching me, both wings were extended to the side, flapping feebly.

I had stood a couple of minutes scrutinizing the ground about, when my eye alighted on a fledgling. At the same instant it rose to its feet, raised and extended its wings to the side, and began to walk rapidly away, calling a high-pitched seep! Its wings were fully feathered, though little grown, feathers extending narrowly between them across the back, sides of its lower parts feathered, feathers not quite meeting in the center, otherwise in down. Contrast its helplessness with the young bobwhite which flies at a much earlier stage.

Audubon (1840) describes the actions of the anxious mother in the following well-chosen words:

She scarcely limps, nor does she often flutter along the ground, on such occasions; but with half extended wings, inclining her head to one side, and uttering a soft murmur, she moves to and fro, urging her young to hasten towards some secure spot beyond the reach of their enemies. Regardless of her own danger, she would to all appearance gladly suffer herself to be seized, could she be assured that by such a sacrifice she might ensure the safety of her brood. On an occasion of this kind, I saw a female woodcock lay herself down on the middle of a road, as if she were dead, while her little ones, five in number, were endeavoring on feeble legs to escape from a pack of naughty boys, who had already caught one of them, and were kicking it over the dust in barbarous sport. The mother might have shared the same fate, had I not happened to issue from the thicket, and interpose in her behalf.

Plumages.—The downy young woodcock, when newly hatched, is conspicuously and handsomely marked; the upper parts are "warm buff" or "light ochraceous buff," distinctively marked with rich "seal brown"; these markings consist (with some individual variation) of a large, central crown patch, extending in a stripe down the forehead, a large occipital patch, a stripe from the bill through the eye to the occiput, a broad stripe down the center and one down each side of the back, a patch on each wing and each thigh and irregular markings on the sides of the head and neck; the under parts are more rufous, "pinkish cinnamon" or "cinnamon buff," and unmarked.

The juvenal plumage appears at an early age, coming in first on the back and wings; the wings grow rapidly, and the young bird can fly long before it is fully grown. This plumage is much like that of the adult, but it can be distinguished during the first summer by its looser texture and by broader brown edgings on the wing coverts, scapulars, and tertials. A prolonged postnuptial molt of the body plumage during late summer and fall produces a first winter plumage which is nearly adult. At the first prenuptial molt, in late winter and spring, young birds become indistinguishable from adults.

Adults have an incomplete prenuptial molt, involving the body plumage, some wing coverts, scapulars, and tertials, in late winter and early spring, and a complete postnuptial molt in July and August. Fall birds are much more richly colored than spring adults.

Food.—The woodcock is a voracious feeder; its principal food is earthworms or angleworms, of which it has been known to eat more than its own weight in 24 hours. It is said to feed mainly at night or during the hours of twilight or dusk. The worms are obtained by probing in mud or damp earth in any place where worms are to be found, including gardens and cultivated fields. The long bill of the woodcock is well supplied with sensitive nerves, in which the sense of touch is highly developed; it can detect the movements of a worm in the soil and capture it by probing. Numerous borings are often seen close together, indicating that the bird does not always strike the worm at the first stab. Probably its keen ears also help to locate its prey. It is said to beat the soft ground with its feet or wings, which is supposed to suggest the effect of pattering rain and draw the worms toward the surface.

C. J. Maynard (1896) made the following observations on a captive bird:

The floor of its house was covered to the depth of four or five inches with dark-colored loam, in which I planted a quantity of weeds, beneath which the woodcock could hide. I would drop a number of worms on this soil, which, as the bird was too shy to feed at first, had ample time to bury themselves. At times, however, I was able to watch the bird unseen by it; then the woodcock, which had remained hidden in the corner behind the sheltering weeds, would emerge cautiously and walk over the ground, slowly and deliberately, pausing every instant or two as if listening intently. Then he would stamp with one foot, giving several sharp, quick blows, after which he would bow his head near the ground and again listen. Then suddenly he would turn either to the right or left or take a step or two forward, plunge his bill into the earth, and draw out a worm, which he would swallow, then repeat this performance until all the worms were eaten.

During dry spells, when the worms have returned to the subsoil, the woodcock must seek other foods. It then resorts to the woods, where it turns over the leaves in search of grubs, slugs, insects, and larvae. It has even been known to eat grasshoppers. Mr. Rich (1907) says that in early spring, before the alder covers are open, it feeds on ants. Frederick S. Webster (1887) reports a singular case, where the crop of a woodcock was crammed full of leaves of a common fern.

Behavior.—The woodcock is so nocturnal or crepuscular in its habits that it remains quietly hidden in its favorite covers during the day and is seldom seen to fly unless disturbed, when it flutters up through the trees with a weak, irregular, or zigzag flight, dodging the branches. When clear of obstructions, it flies more swiftly and directly, but usually for only a short distance, and soon pitches down into the cover again. One can usually follow it and flush it again and again. Toward dusk it becomes much more active, and its shadowy form is often seen flying over the tree tops and across open places to its feeding grounds. At such times its flight is steady and direct, with regular wing strokes; its chunky form with its long bill pointing downward is easily recognized. While traveling at night its flight is quite swift. When rising in flight the woodcock produces, usually but not always, a distinct whistling or twittering sound. This has led to much discussion and differences of opinion, as to whether the sound is produced by the wings or is vocal. I am inclined to the latter theory, for I have often seen a woodcock fly without whistling, and many others have referred to such a flight.

Few of us have ever seen a woodcock alight in a tree, but Mr. Rich (1907) refers to several instances where the bird has been seen to do this by reliable witnesses. Once he himself shot one in the act.

Voice.—Except during the spectacular song-flight and courtship performance, the woodcock is a very silent bird, unless we regard the twittering heard when it rises as vocal. Mr. Nichols says in his notes:

The quality of the twitter of a rising woodcock corresponds more or less to the character of its flight. When, as is frequently the case, the bird merely flutters a short distance to drop again behind the screen of undergrowth, it amounts to little more than the chirping of crickets. On one occasion when I observed an individual barely escape the attack of an Accipiter, this sound, as it rose, was less shrill and loud than often, but more rapid and sustained, with an incisive quality suggesting a rattle snake's alarm. When a woodcock rises through thick brush or brambles its wings make a whirring sound not unlike that of the bob white, accompanied by a slight twitter.

Mr. Brewster (1925) writes:

Many years ago I expressed in print a belief that the whistling sound made by a rising woodcock is produced by the bird's wings. This conviction has since been confirmed by field experience at the lake with woodcock killed during the first half of September, and in varying conditions of moult. Such of them as still retained or had just renewed the attenuated outer primaries, almost always whistled when flushed, whereas no sound other than a dull fluttering one was ever heard from any of those not thus equipped. Hence I continue to hold firmly to the opinion that the woodcock's clear, silvery whistle emanates from these "whistling quills", as sportsmen fitly term them, and not from the bird's throat. There are, however, certain sounds, not very unlike those which combine to form the usual characteristic whistle, but more disconnected and twittering, which may be of vocal origin. One hears them oftenest from the woodcock hovering, just before alighting, or flitting low over the ground for trifling distances, beating their wings rather listlessly. This comparatively slow pulsation of the wings might account for the interrupted sequence of the sounds, but not perhaps, for their seemingly throaty quality.

Edward H. Forbush (1925) quotes three observers, as follows:

Mr. W. H. Harris asserts that he held a woodcock by the bill which whistled three times with a rotary motion of body and wings. Mr. J. M. Dinsmore held a woodcock by the body and wings to prevent movement of these parts, and he says that this bird whistled through its mouth and throat. Mr. H. Austin avers that he flushed a woodcock that did not whistle, marked the bird and put him up again when he whistled, which indicates that the bird may have made the sound with its vocal equipment.

Fall.—The following from the pen of Mr. Forbush (1912) illustrates the conditions which affect the fall flight:

The flights of birds from the North have not diminished in number so much as have the native birds. Occasionally a large flight stops here, as in early November, 1908, when woodcock were plentiful here, and when some gunners in Connecticut secured from 20 to 40 birds each in a day. This flight did not denote such an increase in the number of these birds, however, as generally was believed. The explanation is that they all came at once. The birds in Maine and the Provinces had a good breeding season, and they must have had a plentiful supply of food, for the autumn weather was mild, and they mostly remained in their northern homes until nearly the 1st of November. Flight birds were rare in Massachusetts up to that time, and the bags were small. The fall had been warm and dry, but on October 29 and 30 New England and the Provinces experienced a severe northeast storm along the seaboard, followed by a cold northwest wind, which probably froze up the northern feeding grounds, if the storm had not already buried them in snow. Either or both of these conditions drove the woodcock into southern New England. My correspondence shows that this flight landed in every county of Massachusetts except Dukes and Nantucket. As usual, comparatively few were seen in Barnstable County. Connecticut covers harbored many woodcock from about November 12 to November 20. There were many in Rhode Island, and the flight was noted as far south as Delaware.

Game.—It is as a game bird that the woodcock is best known, most beloved, and most popular, for it is a prince among game birds, and its flesh is a delight to the palate of an epicure. What sportsman will not stop in his pursuit of other game to hunt some favorite corner, some woodland border, or some brushy hillside where he has flushed this bird of mystery before? And what a thrill he gets as the brown ball of feathers suddenly flutters up from almost underfoot among the crisp autumn leaves, dodging up through the branches with a whistled note of warning, and flies away over the treetops! Perhaps he was too surprised at first to shoot; but, if he marked it down, he can soon flush it again, for it has not gone far; then, if he is quick and true at snap shooting, he may pick up the coveted prize, admire the soft, warm, ruddy breast, the pretty pattern of woodland lights and shades, the delicate long bill, and the big liquid eyes. An aristocrat among game birds!

In the early days, when I first began shooting, summer woodcock shooting was regularly practiced; the season opened in July, when the young birds of late broods were not large enough to furnish good sport and were not fit for the table. Moreover, the weather was often hot and the foliage was dense, making it unsatisfactory for the sportsmen. The only excuse for it was that it allowed some shooting in certain sections where local birds departed early and where flight birds seldom occurred. It went far towards exterminating local breeding birds in Massachusetts; it was bad for all concerned, and it is well that it was abandoned.

From the above and other causes woodcocks have decreased alarmingly during the past 50 years. One gets an impressive idea of the former abundance of the birds by reading the quaint shooting tales of Frank Forester, in which he boasts of having shot with a friend 125 birds in one day and 70 the next day before noon, and this with the old-fashioned muzzle-loading guns. His hunting trips were joyous occasions, in which the noonday luncheon, washed down with ample draughts of applejack, held a prominent place.

By far the best shooting is to be had on flight birds, which are big and fat and strong on the wing. In warm weather they frequent the black alder thickets where there are bunches of grass and weeds, or the vicinity of brooks or springs where there is a growth of alders, willows, and birches. On crisp, cold days in October they may be found on sunny hillsides or ridges, among birches, bayberries, or huckleberries, on the sunny edges of the woods, in cedar pastures, in locust scrub, or even in old scrubby orchards. For shooting in thick cover a light short-barreled gun that scatters well is desirable, for snapshots at short range are often necessary. I prefer a light charge of fine shot, which scatters more and does not tear the birds so badly. A good dog adds much to the pleasure of hunting and is very helpful in locating or retrieving birds. The birds will sometimes run for short distances before a setter or pointer, and it is often necessary for the shooter to flush his own bird, which may place him in a poor position to shoot. Therefore a well-trained spaniel, which runs around close to the shooter and flushes the birds, is generally more satisfactory.

For those who have no dog, or prefer to hunt without one, there is another method of shooting woodcocks which can be practiced successfully by one who is sufficiently familiar with their haunts and habits. From their haunts on the uplands, where they rest during the day, the birds fly through the open just before dark to their favorite feeding place along some swampy run or boggy thicket, resorting regularly to the same spot night after night. If the shooter knows of such a place, where the birds are fairly plentiful, he can station himself there about sunset and feel reasonably sure of a few shots during the brief time that the birds are coming in. But increasing darkness soon makes shooting difficult.

Enemies.—Like other ground nesting birds, woodcocks undoubtedly have many natural enemies among the predatory animals and birds; but these have always existed without detriment to the species. As has often been said, predatory birds and animals destroy mainly the weak and diseased individuals, which are the most easily caught; the stronger and more vigorous individuals are more likely to escape and perpetuate a hardier race, better fitted to survive.

The natural elements often take their toll in a wholesale destruction. Arthur T. Wayne (1910) relates the effect of a cold wave on the coast of South Carolina, February 13 and 14, 1899, when the thermometer dropped to 14° and the ground was covered with deep snow; he writes:

The woodcock arrived in countless thousands. Prior to their arrival I had seen but two birds the entire winter. They were everywhere and were completely bewildered. Tens of thousands were killed by would-be sportsmen, and thousands were frozen to death. The great majority were so emaciated that they were practically feathers and of course were unable to withstand the cold. One man killed 200 pairs in a few hours, I shot a dozen birds. Late Tuesday afternoon I easily caught several birds on the snow and put them into a thawed spot on the edge of a swift running stream in order that they would not perish, but upon going to the place the next morning I found one frozen. These were fearfully emaciated and could scarcely fly. Two birds were killed in Charleston in Broad Street. It will be many years before this fine bird can establish itself under most favorable conditions.

Telegraph and other wires cause the death of thousands of birds. Woodcocks migrate at night and fly low; if they strike head, bill, or breast against a wire it means almost certain death. Many dead birds are picked up under wires. Wires are increasing all the time and it is to be hoped that the birds will learn to avoid them.

But the main cause of the woodcock's disappearance is excessive hunting of a bird too easily killed, summer shooting in the North, and wholesale slaughter during a long winter season in the South. A good account of the barbarous sport, called fire hunting, as practiced in Louisiana, is given by Dr. E. J. Lewis (1885), as follows:

The shooter, armed with a double-barreled gun, and decked with a broad-brimmed palmetto hat, sallies forth on a foggy night to the "ridge," where the cocks are now feeding in wonderful numbers. His companion on these expeditions is generally a stout-built negro, bearing before him a species of old-fashioned warming pan, in which is deposited a goodly supply of pine knots. Having arrived on the ground, the cocks are soon heard whizzing about on every side; the pine knots are quickly kindled into a flame, and carried over the head of the negro. The shooter keeps as much as possible in the shade, with his broad-brimmed palmetto protecting his eyes from the glare, and follows close after the torch bearer, who walks slowly ahead. The cocks are soon seen sitting about on the ground, staring widely around in mute astonishment, not knowing what to do, and are easily knocked over with a slight pop of the gun, or more scientifically brought to the ground as they go booming off to the marshes.

The lurid glare of the torch only extends to a distance of 20 yards or so around the negro; the sportsman must, therefore, be on the qui vive to knock the birds over as soon as they rise, otherwise they will immediately be shrouded in the impenetrable darkness of night.

These excursions are carried on with great spirit, sometimes continue the whole night through, and the slaughter of the cocks is often very great; with an experienced "fire hunter" it is no unusual occurrence to bag in this way 50 couple before morning.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—The eastern United States and Canada.

Breeding range.—North to southern Manitoba (Brandon, Portage la Prairie, and Winnipeg); northern Michigan (Palmer, Sheldrake Lake, and Mackinac Island); southern Ontario (Bracebridge, Madoc, and Ottawa); southern Quebec (Montreal); southern New Brunswick (Grand Falls and North River); and Nova Scotia (Pictou). East to Nova Scotia (Pictou, Halifax, and Yarmouth); Maine (Rockland and Portland); Massachusetts (Winchendon and Boston); Rhode Island (Newport); Connecticut (Saybrook); New Jersey (Morristown, Laurenceville, Tuckerton, and Sea Isle City); Maryland (Baltimore, and Cecil, Dorchester, and Worcester Counties); District of Columbia (Washington); Virginia (Locustville, Norfolk, and Lake Drummond); North Carolina (Walke and New Bern); South Carolina (Summerville and Capers Island); Georgia (Savannah, Blackbeard Island, Okefinokee Swamp, and St. Marys); and Florida (Jacksonville and Micanopy). South to Florida (Micanopy and Tallahassee); Alabama (Autaugaville and Pleasant Hill); Mississippi (Cedar Grove); Louisiana (Covington); and Texas (Sour Lake). West to Texas (Sour Lake); Arkansas (Clinton and Newport); eastern Kansas (Neosho Falls); eastern Nebraska (London and West Point); southeastern South Dakota (Vermilion); probably western Minnesota (Ortonville); eastern North Dakota (Larimore and Bathgate); and southern Manitoba (Portage la Prairie).

Casual in summer west to Colorado (Boulder and Denver); Wyoming (Fort Bridger); and Alberta (Edmonton). A chick also was reported as seen near Indian Head, Newfoundland (Howe).

Winter range.—North to northeastern Texas (Jefferson); Arkansas (Stuttgart); probably Kentucky (Hickman); and rarely, North Carolina (Raleigh). East to rarely North Carolina (Raleigh); South Carolina (Charleston); and Florida (Gainesville, Fruitland Park, Lake Harney, and Orlando). South to Florida (Orlando, Panasoffkee Lake, and Tallahassee); Alabama (Autauga County); Mississippi (Biloxi); Louisiana (Covington, Abbeville, and Mermenton); and southern Texas (Beaumont and Victoria). West to Texas (Victoria, Hallettsville, and Jefferson).

Casual in winter north to Illinois (Mount Carmel); Indiana (Vincennes); Ohio (New Bremen); Virginia (Falls Church); Maryland (Mardela); New Jersey (Cape May, Haddonfield, and Plainfield); New York (Sing Sing and Collins); Connecticut (Bridgeport, New Haven, and New London County); and Massachusetts (Boston).

Spring migration.—Early dates of arrival are District of Columbia, Washington, February 6; Maryland, Barron Springs, February 5, and Mardela Springs, February 14; Pennsylvania, Carlisle, February 27, Nauvoo, March 4, Waynesburg, March 5, Port Province, March 7, Columbia, March 9, Bristol, March 10, Norristown, March 11, Renovo, March 13, Harrisburg, March 14, Philadelphia, March 15, Chambersburg, March 18, Coatesville, March 21, and Erie, March 23; New Jersey, Maurice River Light, February 15, Plainfield, February 22, Englewood, February 23, and Morristown, February 28; New York, Middletown, March 1, New York City, March 10, Shelter Island, March 10, Orient Point, March 12, Great West Bay Light, March 12, Branchport, March 13, Stephentown, March 17, Lansing, March 20, and Virgil, March 21; Connecticut, Portland, February 15, Plantsville, February 24, Bridgeport, February 27, Norwich, March 1, Middletown, March 3, Unionville, March 10, and Fairfield, March 14; Massachusetts, Groton, February 22, Rockdale, March 8, East Templeton, March 11, and Rehoboth, March 15; Vermont, Rutland, March 7, and Hydeville, March 25; New Hampshire, Monadnock, March 14, Manchester, March 20, Peterboro, March 25, and Durham, April 1; Maine, Portland 13, Farmington, March 16, Augusta, March 23, East Hebron, March 25, Ellsworth, March 28, Lewiston, March 29, and Norway, April 5; Quebec, Quebec, April 4, Neilsonville, April 15, and Montreal, April 21; New Brunswick, St. John, March 21, Scotch Lake, March 29, and St. Andrews, April 3; Nova Scotia, Halifax, March 10, and Wolfville, March 21; Tennessee, Nashville, February 28, and Athens, March 1; Kentucky, Eubank, February 15, Versailles, February 29, and Alexander Station, March 15; Illinois, Odin, February 23, Quincy, March 3, Shawneetown, March 4, Evanston, March 13, Olney, March 13, Rockford, March 15, Fernwood, March 20, and Chicago, March 22; Indiana, Holman, February 16, Frankfort, February 16, Bicknell, February 16, Waterloo, March 1, Terre Haute, March 1, Red Key, March 9, Sedan, March 9, and Greencastle, March 10; Ohio, Cleveland, February 21, New Middleton, February 26, Hillsboro, March 2, Granville, March 7, East Rockport, March 8, Columbus, March 8, Oberlin, March 10, Lakewood, March 11, Sandusky, March 13; Michigan, Petersburg, March 2, Battle Creek, March 9, Ann Arbor, March 17, Detroit, March 24, and Norvell, March 31; Ontario, London, March 30, Dunneville, March 21, Toronto, March 25, Yarker, March 29, St. Thomas, March 30, and Sault Ste. Marie, April 3; Iowa, Keokuk, March 12, Mount Pleasant, March 13, and Hillsboro, March 15; Wisconsin, Racine, March 25, Wauwatosa, March 26, and Milwaukee, March 24; Minnesota, Leech Lake, March 30; and Kansas, North Topeka, March 21, and Lawrence, April 17.

Fall migration.—Late dates of fall departure are: Kansas, North Topeka, December 3; Minnesota, Hutchinson, November 3; Wisconsin, Greenbush, November 2, and Delavan, November 6; Iowa, Sigourney, November 3, Keokuk, November 16, Grinnell, November 27, and Ogden, December 30; Ontario, Guelph, October 30, Ottawa, October 31, St. Thomas, November 2, Plover Mills, November 5, Dunnville, November 6, and Toronto, November 11; Michigan, Manchester, October 19, Vicksburg, November 2, Livonia, November 11, and Ann Arbor, November 20; Ohio, Sandusky, November 1, Huron, November 2, Kingsville, November 7, Cleveland, November 8, Austinburg, November 10, and Grand Reservoir, November 15; Indiana, Roanoke, November 10, and Greensburg, November 10; Illinois, Lake Forest, October 20, Odin, October 28, La Grange, November 8, and Rantoul, December 6; Kentucky, Bardstown, November 18; Nova Scotia, Pictou, October 29, Halifax, November 6, and Yarmouth, November 15; New Brunswick, St. John, November 13; Quebec, Montreal, November 4; Maine, East Hebron, October 20, Skowhegan, October 26, Lewiston, October 27, Waterville, October 30, Winthrop, November 4, and Westbrook, November 23; New Hampshire, Tilton, October 22; Vermont, Rutland, November 3; Massachusetts, Rockdale, November 5, Boston, November 20, Watertown, November 29, and Cambridge, December 8; Connecticut, Middletown, November 16, Meriden, November 23, Hartford, November 24, New Haven, November 26, and Portland, November 28; New York, Shelter Island, November 10, Stephentown, November 16, Plattsburg, November 20, Brooklyn, November 25, Wyandance, December 1, and Lawrence, December 8; New Jersey, Camden, November 8, Demarest, November 17, Englewood, November 24, Mahwah, November 26, Morristown, November 29, and Bloomfield, November 30; Pennsylvania, Renovo, October 23, Erie, November 14, Beaver, November 28, and Berwyn, December 6; Maryland, Barron Springs, November 27, and Cumberland, December 12; and District of Columbia, Washington, December 30.

Casual records.—The woodcock has been detected outside of its regular range on a few occasions, as follows: Bermuda, Hamilton, October 1842 and probably one at Hungry Bay, a few years later; Keewatin, York Factory, last of August; northern Saskatchewan, Black River, August, 1892; and Montana, Billings, October 23, 1917.

Egg dates.—New York: 20 records, April 4 to May 29; 10 records, April 11 to 25. Pennsylvania and New Jersey; 22 records, March 23 to May 1; 11 records, March 30 to April 17. Indiana and Illinois: 26 records March 26 to May 30; 13 records April 15 to 28. North Carolina: 2 records February 18 and March 29. Texas: 1 record January 20.

CAPELLA GALLINAGO GALLINAGO (Linnaeus)
EUROPEAN SNIPE

HABITS

The European bird is so closely related to, being regarded now as only subspecifically distinct from, our Wilson snipe that I shall not attempt to write its full life history. The two birds resemble each other so closely in all their habits that this would involve useless repetition of much that I have written about the American bird.

The European snipe owes its place on our list to its occurrence, probably casually, in Greenland. There is a specimen in the British Museum that is supposed to have come from Canada, but its history is doubtful. The snipe that breeds in Iceland and the Faroe Islands has been separated, under the name faeroeensis, as subspecifically distinct from the bird breeding in Great Britain and in continental Europe. It seems quite likely that the Greenland records should be referred to this form.

Courtship.—Much study has been given to this subject by European observers and differences of opinion still exist as to how the curious winnowing sound or bleating is produced. While the normal time for hearing this is during the spring months, it has been heard in February, during the summer and even occasionally in the fall. Rev. Henry H. Slater (1898) writes:

Opinions differ widely as to the means by which this curious sound is produced. Meves declared that the tail feathers were the instrument, and claimed to have produced it artificially by the snipe's tail feathers fastened to the end of a long stick and swung through the air. Others hold that the tremulous motion of the tense wing feathers is the agency; a third theory is that the sound is vocal. The reader is at liberty to take his choice. I incline to the last, from analogy. I have seen the great snipe go through exactly the same evolutions at the nest, including the tremulous wings on the descending movement, and in perfect silence; I have watched the wood, the green, the broad-billed sandpipers, the Kentish plover, Temmick's and the little stint, and the red-necked phalarope, go through the same movements also at the nest, but in these cases the noise which accompanied the descending stage of the performance was unmistakably vocal.

Dr. Leonhard Stejneger (1885) was also much inclined to the vocal theory when he wrote:

Not only this power of the sound, but even more so the nature of the tune itself convinced me that it originates from the throat and not in any way either from the tail or the wing feathers, as suggested by many European writers. It is true that the wings are in a state of very rapid vibration during the oblique descent when the note is uttered, but this circumstance does not testify only in favor of the theory of the sound being produced by the wing, as the vibration most conclusively accounts for the quivering throat sound. Anybody stretching his arms out as if flying, and moving them rapidly up and down and simultaneously uttering any sound is bound to "bleat." Having heard, however, from my early days, of the wing or tail theories as the only orthodox ones, I did not feel convinced of the correctness of my own opinion until one evening I heard another bird of the same family produce a very similar note while sitting on the ground. Referring to the observation recorded under Arquatella couesi, I here only remark that the sound was so similar as to leave no doubt whatever in my mind that it had a similar origin in both cases. It may be that a snipe has never been observed bleating on the ground, but the fact that a so nearly allied bird is capable of producing essentially the same sound while in that position is an argument in favor of the more natural explanation of the sound originating from the organ which in almost all other instances is adapted to that purpose.

John M. Boraston (1903) gives an excellent account of this nuptial flight, as follows:

Another bird which the buoyant spirits of the breeding season urge into unusual prominence is the common snipe. About the pairing time, at the beginning of April, he may for some weeks be observed on the wing frequently throughout the day. At such times he describes great circles in the air at a considerable height, the rapidly beating wings carrying him round at a high speed. At regular intervals during this great circling flight the wings are laid out flat, the one inside the great circle the bird is describing being tilted up and that outside depressed. At the same moment the tail feathers are opened out so that the sky may be seen between them as between the fingers of an open hand. Immediately the wings and tail are so set, the tips of the former begin to vibrate, the tail feathers remaining rigid, and the bird strikes off at a tangent, curving outward and slipping downward from the normal path of its circular flight. It is this recurring tangential deviation which causes the circle of the snipe's flight to become so vast.

During the outward curving, downward flight the snipe's strange humming note is heard, synchronizing precisely with the vibration of the tips of its wings. The bill is closed when the note is being emitted. The bird's great circular flight is thus made up of two subordinate flights—the plain flight and the humming flight—in regular succession. After having described three or four great circles, the snipe reverses its course and proceeds in the opposite direction; but it is to be observed that in its "humming" flight it still works always on its "outer edge," the wing outside the great circle being invariably the one to be depressed and the one upon which the bird turns in performing the tangential, outward curving, downward flight. The sound made by the snipe may be nearly imitated by laughing in the throat with the lips closed, and associates itself in my mind with that made by the puffin when returning laden with fish to his burrow. It is like hollow, mirthless laughter; the expression of a wild earnest joy by sounds which to human ears seem mournful rather than joyous, and therefore unnatural, uncanny, weird. The snipe has another amusing trick in flight; he will suddenly jerk himself to one side, throw his wings halfway back, and allow himself to fall like a lopsided shuttlecock, until, as suddenly recovering himself, he sets off again on his circular career.

Seton Gordon (1915) gives the following good description of the snipe's tail, by which the sound is probably made:

The tail feathers of the snipe are of so peculiar formation that it may be well to give here a description of them: In the first outer tail feather the shaft is exceptionally stiff and shaped like a saber. The rays of the web are strongly bound together and are very long—the longest, in fact, reaching nearly three-quarters of the whole length of the web. The rays lie along the shaft of the feather like the strings of a musical instrument. Other species of snipe possess four drumming feathers, and one species has no fewer than eight. The drumming feathers of the hen snipe are not as strong as those of the male.

Eggs.—The European snipe normally lays four eggs, rarely five. These are indistinguishable from eggs of our Wilson snipe. The measurements of 100 eggs, furnished by Rev. F. C. R. Jourdain, averaged 39.4 by 28.7 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 42.7 by 29, 39.3 by 30.3, 35 by 28.4 and 36.3 by 26.7 millimeters.

Young.—The period of incubation is about 20 days. Several observers have reported seeing the snipe carry off her young between her legs, as the woodcock is known to do.

Mr. Gordon (1915) writes:

Although eminent authorities have stated that a snipe with a brood by her feigns lameness to distract attention, I have never found this to be the case, the bird invariably flying off as she does when sitting on her eggs.

One warm July day I witnessed a very charming spectacle in a field bordering on a wide expanse of moorland. A kindred ornithologist and myself were seated at the edge of a wall overlooking the field when he became aware that a snipe was standing fearlessly in the long herbage a few yards from us. As we watched her, the bird came forward, and disappeared among some rushes bordering the wall. For the space of a minute or so she remained hidden, and we thought she had gone there to shelter, but presently she emerged from her obscurity, and following her closely were two small chicks. By comparison with the green grass these little people appeared almost black, so dark was their downy plumage. Their mother realized that danger was near, for she led them quickly away, but never turned to see whether her children were following her. They kept their position close behind her, although the pace for them was a quick one, and they were soon lost to sight behind a ridge. One realized how wonderfully obedient the chicks were: they were left in the rushes at the approach of danger, their mother having evidently enjoined them to remain concealed and without movement until she returned for them.

Behavior.—An interesting account of the habits of a tame snipe, reared in captivity, is published by Hugh Wormald (1909) to which I would refer the reader.

DISTRIBUTION

Breeding range.—Much of Europe and Asia. From Great Britain and Scandinavia (up to 70° N.) throughout northern Europe and Siberia. South, mainly in the mountains, to the Pyrenees, Alps, northern Italy, southern Russia, Turkestan, Yarkand, and southeastern Mongolia. A few breed in the Azores, northwestern Africa, and India. Replaced by allied forms in Iceland, the Faroes, in tropical Africa, and in northeastern Asia.

Winter range.—Great Britain, the Mediterranean basin, Madeira, Canaries, Azores, Africa (south to Senegambia on the west and Abyssinia on the east), Arabia, Sokotra, southern Asia, Japan, Borneo, Formosa, and the Philippine Islands.

Casual records.—The only North American record, a specimen said to have been taken in Canada, is very doubtful. This and the Greenland and Bermuda records are probably referrable to the Iceland form, faeroeensis.

Egg dates.—Great Britain: 70 records, March 3 to August 21; 35 records, April 29 to May 25. Iceland: 16 records, May 10 to June 6; 8 records, May 26 to June 3.

CAPELLA GALLINAGO DELICATA (Ord)
WILSON SNIPE

HABITS

The above species, with its several varieties, enjoys a world-wide distribution and is universally well known. The American subspecies is widely distributed from coast to coast and occurs more or less commonly, at one season or another, in nearly every part of North America. It was formerly exceedingly abundant, but its numbers have been sadly depleted during the past 50 years by excessive shooting. Alexander Wilson first called attention to the characters, size, and number of tail feathers, which distinguished our bird from the European. But they are so much alike that it seems best to regard them as subspecies, rather than as distinct species.

Spring.—The snipe is an early migrant, leaving its winter quarters just below the frost line, just as soon as the northern frost goes out of the ground, about as early as the woodcock. When the warm spring rains have softened the meadows, when the hylas have thawed out and are peeping in the pond holes, when the cheerful okalee of the redwings is heard in the marshes and when the herring are running up the streams to spawn, then we need not look in vain for the coming of the snipe. Low, moist meadow lands, or wet pastures frequented by cattle, are favorite haunts, where their splashings and borings are frequently seen among the cow tracks. They are also found in high, bushy, wet pastures, or in the vicinity of spring-fed brooks among scattered clumps of willows, huckleberries or alders.

Courtship.—On the wings of the south wind comes the first wisp of snipe, the will-o-the-wisp of the marshes, here to-day and gone to-morrow, coming and going under the cover of darkness. All through the spring migration and all through the nesting season we may hear the weird winnowing sound of the snipe's courtship flight, a tremulous humming sound, loud and penetrating, audible at a long distance. One is both thrilled and puzzled when he hears it for the first time, for it seems like a disembodied sound, the sighing of some wandering spirit, until the author is discovered, a mere speck, sweeping across the sky. The sound resembles the noise made by a duck's wings in rapid flight, a rapidly pulsating series of notes, who, who, who, who, who, who, who, who, increasing and then decreasing again in intensity. It has been termed the "bleating" of the snipe, but this does not seem to describe it so well as "winnowing." J. R. Whitaker, with whom I hunted snipe in Newfoundland, told me that both sexes indulge in this performance and George M. Sutton (1923) suggested the possibility of it.

Dr. Joseph Grinnell (1900) gives the best account of this courtship flight, as follows:

I was in a broad grassy swale, studded here and there with scrub spruces and bordered by taller timber, when my attention was attracted by a curious far-off song which puzzled me for some time. Finally I descried the producer, a Wilson's snipe, so far overhead as to be scarcely discernible against the clear sky. It was flying slowly in a broad circle with a diameter of perhaps 600 yards, so that the direction of the sound was ever shifting, thus confusing me until I caught sight of its author. This lofty flight was not continuously on the same level, but consisted of a series of lengthy undulations or swoops. At the end of each swoop the bird would mount up to its former level. The drop at the beginning of the downward dive was with partly closed, quivering wings, but the succeeding rise was accomplished by a succession of rapid wing beats. The peculiar resonant song was a rolling series of syllables uttered during the downward swoop, and just before this drop merged into the following rise a rumbling and whirring sound became audible, accompanying the latter part of the song and finishing it. This curious song flight was kept up for 15 minutes, ending with a downward dash. But before the bird reached the ground and was yet some 20 yards above it there was apparently a complete collapse. The bird dropped as if shot for several feet, but abruptly recovered itself to fly a short distance farther and repeat this new maneuver. By a succession of these collapses, falls, recoveries, and short flights the acrobatically inclined bird finally reached the ground, alighting in the grass near me.

All of the early American writers, and many others since then, supposed that the winnowing sound was made by the bird's wings, although many European observers long ago argued that it was made by the two pairs of outer tail feathers, which are widely spread and held downward at right angles to the axis of the body during the downward swoops and vibrate as the air rushes through them. W. L. Dawson (1923) says that—

the body of the sound is produced by the impact of the air upon the sharp lateral feathers of the tail, held stiffly, while the pulsations of sound are produced by the wings. At least it is certain that the pulsations of sound are synchronous with the wing beats. The sound begins gradually, as while the tail is expanding, and closes with a smooth diminuendo as the tail is closing and while the wings are sailing.

N. S. Goss (1891) gives a different account of the courtship, as follows:

In courtship, the male struts with drooping wings and widespread tail around his mate, in a most captivating manner, often at such times rising spiral-like with quickly beating wings high in air, dropping back in a wavy graceful circle, uttering at the same time his jarring cackling love note, which, with the vibration of the wings upon the air, makes a rather pleasing sound.

Mr. Sutton (1923) noted some peculiar flight performances, which may be connected with the courtship; he says:

On April 29 two birds were repeatedly flushed together; not always the same two individuals necessarily, I presume, and not certainly of opposite sex. But these birds often sailed gracefully over the cattails, in wide sweeping undulations, with wings set in a manner suggesting chimney swifts, a type of flight totally different from any previously observed. The same stunt was many times observed in the male bird of the pair whose nest was located. In fact this type of display, if it were display, was so common that the usual twitching, erratic flight was only rarely seen. I have wondered if this may not have been a pair of birds, possibly recently mated, though not actually nesting there.

On May 3, in a portion of the swamp near town, a new antic was observed. A snipe, subsequently determined as a male, sprang up close at hand, and after a few energetic, direct wing beats, put his wings high above his body and, describing a graceful arc, dropped toward the ground, his legs trailing, only to rise again to repeat the performance. Never during this exhibition did he actually touch the ground with his feet, so far as I could see, but it gave that impression. He was clearly excited, and I now know that such antics are a certain indication of nesting activity. At such times the male gave forth several short notes which may accurately be termed "bleats." Occasionally the bird, after performing this novel antic would drop to the grass some distance away, and then fly up after a time, considerably nearer me, making it evident that he was attempting to lure me away. Then again, after trying these antics for a time, he would suddenly mount to the sky, and there would follow a season of the weird wind music—always delightful.

Aretas A. Saunders, in his notes, says that—

After the eggs are laid the female often answers this sound with a long call okee okee okee repeated 8 or 10 times and resembling the "buckwheat" call of the guinea hen. I believe the female is sitting on the eggs when she calls this way, for I have found the nest by locating the position of the sound at night and returning in the morning. The nest is usually in about the center of the male's circle of flight.

Nesting.—As with the woodcock my personal experience with the nesting of the Wilson snipe has been limited to one nest, found in the Magdalen Islands on June 18, 1904. The nest was found by watching the bird go to it in the East Point marshes. It was on dry ground in a little clump of grass, under some low and rather open bayberry bushes, on the edge of a boggy arm of the marsh, which extended up into the woods; it was built up about 2 inches above the ground and was made of short, dead straws and dead bayberry leaves; it measured 6 inches in outside and 3 inches in inside diameter. The four eggs which it contained blended perfectly with their surroundings and although in plain sight, they were not easily seen. P. B. Philipp (1925), who has found many snipe's nests in the Magdalen Islands, where he says the species is increasing, writes:

The nesting begins in the last 10 days of May, and is a simple affair. Usually wet marshy ground is selected, preferably with low brush and grass with lumps or tussocks rising above the bog water. The nest is a shallow hollow made in the grass or moss of one of these lumps, lined with broken bits of dead grass and sometimes with dead leaves.

William L. Kells (1906) gives a graphic account of finding a nest of the Wilson snipe in southern Ontario, as follows:

On the 17th of May, 1905, as I was passing through a patch of low ground overgrown with second growth willows, a rather large-sized bird flushed from a spot a few feet from where I had jumped over a neck of water. I did not see the exact place from which the bird had flown, but the fluttering sound of her wing caught my ear, and looking ahead I saw the creature, who with outspread tail and wings, was fluttering on the damp earth, and with her long bill down in the mud, was giving vent to a series of squeaking sounds. I knew at once that this bird had flushed from a nest, and that the object of her actions was to draw my attention from something that she was very desirous to conceal; but a little research revealed a nest containing four beautiful eggs. A clump of willows a little elevated stood about 6 feet from the pool over which the bird had flown, and midway between the water and the willows, which overhung it the nest was placed. This was simply a slight depression made by the bird in the moss and dry grass, and except from its concealed situation and being a little more expanded, there was no particular distinction between it and those of the more familiar killdeer plover and spotted sandpiper, though the lining was probably of a warmer texture, being of fine dry grass, while the eggs, as in the case of all the ground nesting waders, were arranged with the small ends inward.

A Colorado nest is thus described by Robert B. Rockwell (1912):

This nest was located on (and above) the surface of slightly damp ground at the edge of a good-sized area of very soft, boggy land formed by the seepage under the dyke of the Big Barr Lake. It was built in the center of a tussock of grass about 8 inches in length and was a very neat, well-shaped, and cupped nest composed entirely of fine dry grass. In construction it was far superior to any shore bird's nest I have ever seen, being so compactly and strongly put together that it was possible to remove it from the nesting site without injury. In general appearance the nest itself is not unlike certain sparrows' nests.

A nest photographed for me by F. Seymour Hersey, near the mouth of the Yukon River, Alaska, was in a very wet spot on the border of a marsh; it was a deep hollow prettily arched over with dry grasses at the base of a small willow bush.

The Wilson snipe is often a close sitter and sometimes will not leave the nest until nearly trodden upon. W. J. Brown (1912) tells of a case where he stroked the bird on the back and had to lift her off the nest to photograph the eggs.

Mr. Sutton (1923) has published a full and very interesting account of the breeding habits of the Wilson snipe in Crawford County, Pennsylvania, where he found several nests in a large, wet swamp among cattails and grasses; of the first nest he says:

The nest was beautifully situated in the center of a clump of dried fern stalks—a clump similar to hundreds of just such little islands near at hand but certainly admirably suited to such a nesting site, for the eggs were almost completely surrounded at the short distance of 4 inches by a paling of dead fern stalks. The eggs were about 9 inches above water at this time, although the water's depth changed constantly with every rainfall, and five days later the outer rim of the nest was only 2 inches above water level. Another was built upon a bit of decayed, sunken log and was composed entirely of grass stems rather carefully laid together. The eggs were but a few inches above the surface of the water, and although grass stems connected the nesting site with other vegetation the nest was virtually on an island surrounded by water 18 inches deep.

And of still another he says:

This nest was the only snipe nest I have seen which had any real protection from above. The nest was so placed under a dead willow branch and some leaning cat-tail stalks that it was really difficult to see it. The grasses composing the nest had been placed with care and were somewhat woven about the cat-tail stalks and other grasses standing near.

Eggs.—Four eggs is the normal number laid by the snipe; rarely five eggs are laid. They are about ovate pyriform in shape and slightly glossy. The ground colors vary from "buckthorn brown" or "Isabella color" in the darkest types to "deep olive buff" or "dark olive buff" in the lighter types, which are much commoner. As a rule the eggs are boldly spotted and blotched, chiefly about the larger end; but often they are spotted more or less evenly over the entire surface. The markings are in dark shades of brown, "burnt umber," "bister," or "bone brown." Often there are splashes or scrawls of brownish black, or black, at the larger end. "Snuff brown," "vinaceous drab," or "brownish drab" under spots or blotches often occur. The measurements of 57 eggs average 38.6 by 28.1 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 42.4 by 29.5, 36.1 by 29.9, and 37.5 by 25.5 millimeters.

Young.—The period of incubation is from 18 to 20 days, and it is shared by both sexes. Mr. Philipp (1925) says that three birds taken from the nest were all males. The young leave the nest soon after they are hatched, and wander about in the long grass, where their concealing coloration makes them very hard to find. One day, while watching snipe with J. R. Whitaker on a large marsh near the mouth of Sandy River in Newfoundland, I saw a snipe several times go down into the grass at a certain place. Thinking to find a nest there I made a careful search, and finally found one small downy young; but not another one could I find in a long hunt. This moist meadow full of grassy hummocks is a great breeding place for snipe. Here we frequently saw snipe sitting in trees, bushes, or on telegraph poles, uttering their loud kep kep kep notes of protest. On the girders of a steel bridge that spans the river at this point Mr. Whitaker has seen as many as five snipe perched at one time.

Mr. Sutton (1923) describes the behavior of an anxious mother as follows:

The mother's antics so claimed my attention that I did not keep close enough watch of the young, and eventually was unable to find them. I hesitated to tramp about much at the time for fear of stepping upon them. The mother bird grunted and clucked incessantly and fell upon her side uttering weird cries, and beating her wings pitiably. At times she would dart into the air and circle about in great haste, very close to me and alight in the tall grass, whence she would run gracefully away until she was again plainly in view. As she ran about her head was held rather stiffly, and it seemed that moving it from side to side much caused her inconvenience. In fact once or twice a definite impression was given that she was carrying something in her mouth, her head was held at such a strained angle.

Plumages.—The young snipe in its dark and richly-colored natal down is one of the handsomest of the young waders. The upper parts, including the crown, back, wings, and thighs, are variegated or marbled with velvety black, "bay," "chestnut," and "amber brown"; the down is mainly black at the base and brown-tipped; the entire upper parts are spotted with small round white spots at the tips of some of the down filaments, producing a beautiful effect of color contrasts and a surprisingly protective coloration. The head is distinctively marked with a white spot on the forehead, a black crescent above it and a black triangle below it, partially concealed by brown tips; there is a distinct black loral stripe, extending faintly beyond the eye, and a less distinct black malar stripe; between these two is a conspicuous, large, white, cheek patch. The chin and upper throat are "light ochraceous buff"; below this on the lower throat is a large sooty-black area, partially concealed by brown tips, these "tawny" brown tips predominating on the breast and flanks, and shading off to "pale pinkish cinnamon" on the belly.

The juvenal plumage appears first on the back and scapulars, then on the breast and wing coverts. A bird in my collection, about half grown has the above parts well feathered and the remiges one-third grown; but the head and rump are still downy and the rectrices have not yet started. The juvenal plumage is like the adult, except that the buff edgings of the feathers on the sides of the back and the scapulars, forming the stripes, are narrower and paler, sometimes almost white on the outer webs. The body feathers and some of the scapulars and tertials are molted during the fall, making the young bird almost indistinguishable from the adult.

Both young birds and adults have a partial prenuptial molt in the late winter and early spring, involving the contour feathers, wing coverts, tertials, and the tail. Adults have a complete molt between July and October. The spring and fall plumages are alike except that the fresh fall plumage is somewhat more richly colored.

Food.—The feeding habits of the Wilson snipe are much like those of the woodcock, except that it often feeds in much wetter places and is somewhat less nocturnal. Benjamin T. Gault (1902) discovered by observation that snipe occasionally resort to open mud flats, unmindful of the cover of darkness and that they feed at all hours of the day. He describes their method of feeding as follows:

The snipe seemed to select as special feeding grounds the water line just bordering the flats, where the mud was soft and into which they delighted in sinking their bills to the fullest depth. And in withdrawing them they never elevated their necks in true sandpiper style. On the contrary they kept their heads well "chucked down," so to speak, and in moving about from place to place, which they seldom did, however, continue to hold them in the same fashion.

In some respect their probing methods resembled the rooting of swine—a simple, up and down forward movement, and if remembered rightly, without lateral twists or side thrusts of any kind, and at times exposing fully one-half of the bill.

Whether the Wilson snipe actually do resort to the so-called "suction" method of procuring their food is a question still undetermined in my mind. The glasses however brought out the important information that the probing or feeling movements of the bill were accompanied every now and then with a guttural or swallowing motion of the throat, which at times developed into a decided gulp, as though large morsels of some kind were being taken down, and this without the removal of the bill from the muck.

Henry W. Henshaw (1875) describes an entirely different method of feeding; he says:

In migrating, however, especially in Arizona and New Mexico, did it depend wholly upon its usual methods of obtaining sustenance, it would fare badly, since, in some sections, there is a total lack of meadow and marsh, and then it may be seen in broad midday running along the sandy borders of the streams, and picking up from among the pebbles and débris any tidbits in the shape of insects it can find. It retains, however, even under these adverse conditions, its habit of squatting, and, when approached closely I have seen it lower its body close to the ground, shrink as it were into as little space as possible, and so remain till I was within a few feet, when it would get up with its well known scaip, scaip, and, following the turns and sinuosities of the streams, endeavor to find some little covered nook into which it could drop out of sight.

M. P. Skinner watched a snipe feeding on the muddy shore of a pond in the Yellowstone Valley; he says in his notes:

He was about 6 inches from shore and at each stroke his bill went in up to his eyes. The strokes were rapid like those of a woodpecker. He covered a space perhaps 4 inches wide and 15 feet long in an hour, getting something every half dozen strokes or so. He was very busy there for two hours at least.

Earthworms probably constitute the principal food of the Wilson snipe, but it also eats cutworms, wireworms, leaches, grasshoppers, locusts, beetles, mosquitoes, other insects and their larvae, and some seeds of marsh plants.

Behavior.—Snipe are notorious for their erratic flight and they often, probably usually, do dodge and zigzag when they first flush in alarm, but not always; I have seen them fly away as steadily as any other shore bird. Snipe usually lie closely crouched on the ground trusting to their excellent protective coloration, and do not flush until nearly trodden upon; so that in their hurry to get away their flight is erratic. When well under way their flight is steady and swift with the occasional turnings common to all shore birds. When first flushed they generally fly low, but when flying from one part of a marsh to another, or when migrating, they fly very high. When alighting they pitch down suddenly from a great height and then flutter down slowly into the grass or drop straight down with wings elevated and bill pointing upwards. They are less gregarious than other waders; they usually flush singly, but often within a few yards of each other if plentiful. They are seldom seen in flocks. John T. Nichols tells me in his notes of a flock of seven which he saw on Long Island:

They were flying high from the east to west, the regular southward lane for shore birds, and bunched up like dowitchers or yellow-legs as they circled over the marsh, then slanted down obliquely (as these other birds would have done) to alight on a piece of dead stubble. By the time I reached them they had scattered somewhat; four (scattered) and three (bunched) flushed from this spot in close succession, and went off into the southwest. The migration of the snipe may be mostly by night; it certainly flies to some extent along the coast by day.

And Harry S. Swarth (1922) says:

While the usual manner of occurrence was for a single bird to be flushed, or perhaps two or three within a few square yards, there were times when snipe were noted in small flocks, almost like sandpipers in their actions. Groups of 10 or 12 individuals were seen circling about through the air in close formation and wheeling or turning in perfect unison. At such times almost the only thing to betray the identity of the birds was the call note, uttered at frequent intervals. At no time, however, did birds flushed from the ground depart in flock formation.

On the ground the snipe moves about deliberately with bill pointing downwards. If alarmed it squats for concealment before jumping into flight when hard pressed; the longitudinal stripes on its back and head so closely resemble prostrate stems of dead grass that the bird is difficult to distinguish. Mr. Skinner "saw one alight and run rapidly along the ground for 20 feet, erect with head high, like a running bob white." C. J. Pennock watched one standing on a bare mud flat with "a continued up and down rhythmic movement of the entire body." E. H. Forbush (1925) writes:

The snipe can swim and dive and uses both wings and feet under water in its efforts to escape. Mr. Will H. Parsons writes that he shot one that fell into a little clear streamlet where later he found it dead, under water, grasping a rootlet in its bill. Later, on the Scioto River, as he relates, he shot another which fell into the river, and, turning, swam back toward the shore. On seeing him approach it dived, and he saw it grasp a weed with its bill. Wading in he secured the bird "stone dead."

Voice.—Eliminating the winnowing flight notes, which are unquestionably instrumental, the Wilson snipe has a variety of vocal notes. The one most often heard is the familiar scaipe note, a note of alarm and warning, given as the bird rises in hurried flight. This note has been variously expressed in writing, perhaps best by the word "escape", which the snipe often does, unless the sportsman is smart enough to say "no you don't," and prove it. "On the breeding grounds we frequently hear its loud notes of protest, uttered while it is flying about or perched on some tree or post; these are in the form of a loud clear whistle, like wheat wheat wheat wheat or more subdued in tone like whuck whuck whuck whuck; they are always rapidly uttered and usually consist of four or five notes. E. W. Nelson (1887) refers to a similar note heard on the breeding grounds, as yak yak yak yak in quick, energetic, explosive syllables. At the time when the bird is uttering its note, it flies along within a short distance of the ground with a peculiar jerky movement of the body and wings as every note is uttered."

Mr. Nichols says in his notes:

When a bird gets up almost from underfoot, the scape is at times replaced by a series of short, hurried notes of similar character. It is interesting to find in the Wilson's snipe this imperfect differentiation of a note uttered at the moment of taking wing from one uttered when in or approaching full flight—as it is a condition slightly different from the calls of other more social shore birds which trust comparatively little to concealment, take wing while danger is still at a distance with hurried minor notes, so soft as to readily escape notice, and have each a loud diagnostic flight call of much service in their identification.

The scape of the snipe has sufficient resemblance to the woodcock's peent, which forms a part of the nuptial performance of that species, to leave little doubt that the two are homologous (that is, of the same derivation), if we assume snipe and woodcock to be related. It is, however, more analogous (that is, of corresponding place or purpose) with the wing twitter of the woodcock. Its harsh quality is in keeping with the voices of unrelated denisons of marsh and swamp, herons, rails, frogs, etc., and the discords of close-by bog sounds continually in its ears. The quality of the snipe's call contrasts sharply with the peculiarly clear, mellow whistle of the black-breasted plover, for instance, and ringing calls of species of similar habit, with carrying power over the open distances of their haunts. The connecting series of limicoline voices, through the reedy calls of such marsh-loving birds as the pectoral sandpiper, leaves little doubt that there is a correlation between habitat and quality of voice.

In some notes from Alaska, he writes:

July 17, on the slope of a low, gentle, tundra hill a little way back from the shore, ahead of me a snipe fluttered up a short distance, then down; up, then down; accompanying this performance with chup chup chup chup chup chew chew chew chew chew. It alighted in a comparatively open space with a couple of small bog holes of water, surrounded with a circle of scrub willows, and here I presently flushed it again. It rose with a chape note, more muffled and reedy than the ordinary Wilson snipe scape, and, curving downwind, rose higher, attaining considerable elevation in the distance, as I followed it with my glass. It now began to zigzag up and down, maintaining approximately its position in the sky to leeward. Meanwhile I heard an unfamiliar more or less whistled peep-er-weep once or twice, and an intermittent winnowing sound, wish wish wish wish wish, etc. Being uncertain as to whether these sounds came from the distant snipe, or from some other bird closer at hand in the air, I took my glasses off the former to look about me, and as I feared I should do, lost track of it in the sky. Presently the winnowing ceased and I began to hear a continuous harsh cuta-cuta-cuta-cuta from over the brow of the hill, which turned out to be a snipe, presumably the same one which had returned, standing on top of the only stake thereabouts.

Field marks.—The Wilson snipe should be easily recognized by its long bill, its erratic flight, its conspicuous stripes, and the rufous near the end of its tail. The harsh scaipe note is diagnostic. It might be confused with the dowitcher, but the flight, notes, and usual haunts of the latter are different. I have often thought that the pectoral sandpiper resembles the snipe, as it rises from the grass, but it lacks the long bill, and is not so conspicuously striped on the back.

Fall.—The fall migration of snipe is dependent on the weather, the first early frosts are apt to start them along; when the brilliant red leaves of the swamp maples add their touch of color to the marshes, and when the vegetation in the meadows begins to take on the rich hues of autumn, then we may look for the coming of the snipe. They are by no means confined to fresh-water marshes at this season. I have occasionally flushed a Wilson snipe on the salt marshes of Cape Cod, and have frequently found them on the dry grassy shores of islands in inland ponds.

Wells W. Cooke (1914) says:

They seem reluctant to return south in fall, even though they can have no appreciation of the constant persecution which awaits them during the six months' sojourn in their winter home. A few migrants appear in the northern part of the United States in early September, and, moving slowly southward, reach the southern part of the Gulf States shortly after the middle of October. Soon the main body of the birds follows, and all normally keep south of the line of frozen ground. Yet every winter some laggards remain much farther north, feeding about springs or streams. A few can usually be found on Cape Cod, Mass., while in the Rocky Mountains, near Sweetwater Lake, Colorado, the presence of warm springs has enabled snipe to remain throughout an entire winter, though the air temperature fell to 30° F. below zero.

Mr. Brewster (1906) writes:

During exceptionally wet autumns snipe occasionally resort in large numbers to the highly cultivated truck farms of Arlington and Belmont. An interesting instance of this happened in September, 1875, when a flight, larger than any that I have known to occur in the Cambridge region before or since, settled in some water-soaked fields covered with crops of corn, potatoes, cabbages, etc., on the Hittinger farm, Belmont. Learning of the presence of these birds about a week after their arrival, I visited the place early the next morning, but all save 10 or a dozen of them had departed, owing no doubt, to the fact that there had been a hard frost during the preceding night. The borings and other signs which they had left convinced me, however, that the statement made to me at the time by Mr. Jacob Hittinger, to the effect that he had started four or five hundred snipe there only the day before, was probably not an exaggeration of the truth.

Game.—The Wilson snipe, improperly called "jack snipe," but more properly called "English snipe," is one of our most popular game birds. Probably more snipe have been killed by sportsmen than any other game bird. It ranks ahead of all other shore birds and upland game birds except, possibly, the woodcock, ruffed grouse, and quail. When the startling cry of the snipe arouses the sportsman to instant action he realizes that he is up against a real gamey proposition. He must be a good shot indeed to make a creditable score against such quick erratic flyers. A tramp over the open meadows, brown, red, and golden in their autumn livery, with one or two good dogs quartering the ground in plain sight and with an occasional shot at a swiftly flying bird, is one of the delights of a crisp autumn day. The birds will lie closely on a calm day, but on a windy, blustering day they are restless and wild. It is well to hunt down wind as the birds usually rise against the wind and will fly towards and then quartering away from the shooter. When two men hunt along a narrow marsh, the man on the windward side will get most of the shooting. Snipe are usually shot on wet meadows or marshes, but that they are often found in other places is shown by the following quotations from Dwight W. Huntington (1903):

Audubon says the snipe is never found in the woods, but Forester mentions finding it in wild, windy weather early in the season in the skirts of moist woodlands under sheltered lee sides of young plantations, among willow, alder, and brier brakes, and, in short, wherever there is good, soft, springy feeding ground perfectly sheltered and protected from the wind by trees and shrubbery.

Abbott says: "During the autumn I have found them along neglected meadow ditches overhung by large willow trees, and again hidden in the reeds along the banks of creeks. I have shot them repeatedly in wet woodland meadows. I have often found snipe in bushy tracts and among the swamp willows, but I have never seen them in the forest, and believe they so rarely resort to the woods that it would not be worth while to seek them there."

Snipe must have been exceedingly abundant 50 or 60 years ago, as the oft-quoted achievements of James J. Pringle (1899) will illustrate. He was not a market hunter but a gentleman (?) sportsman, who shot for the fun of it and gave the birds away to his friends. His excuses for excessive slaughter and his apologies for not killing more are interesting; he writes:

The birds being such great migrants, and only in the country for a short time, I had no mercy on them and killed all I could, for a snipe once missed might never be seen again.

I shot with only one gun at a time; had no loader, but loaded my gun myself; had I shot with two guns and had a loader I would, of course, have killed a great many more birds, but in those days and in those parts it was impossible to get a man that could be trusted to load.

During the 20 years from 1867 to 1887 he shot, on his favorite hunting grounds in Louisiana, 69,087 snipe and a total of 71,859 of all game birds; but his shooting fell off during the next 10 years for he increased his grand total of snipe to only 78,602 and of all game birds to only 82,101! His best day, undoubtedly a world's record, was December 11, 1877, when he shot in six hours 366 snipe and 8 other birds. On his best seven consecutive shooting days, alternate days in December, 1877, he killed 1,943 snipe and 25 other birds. During the winter of 1874-75 he killed 6,615 snipe. Captain Bogardus, the famous trap shot, killed, with the help of a friend, 340 snipe on one day in Illinois, and seldom got less than 150 on good days. With such excessive shooting all through the fall, winter, and spring, is it to be wondered at that the snipe have decreased in numbers?

Winter.—As mentioned above snipe spend the winters in small numbers as far north as they can find unfrozen marshes and spring holes, but their main winter resorts are in the Southern States, the West Indies, and northern South America. They were formerly enormously abundant in the marshes and savannas of Florida and the other Gulf States, where they are still common in winter. C. J. Pennock tells me that they are still abundant all winter about St. Marks, Florida, his earliest and latest dates being September 12 and May 10. Arthur T. Wayne (1910) says that, in South Carolina, the snipe "are most abundant during the months of February and March, and at that time multitudes frequent the rice plantations, provided the water is not too deep over the land." J. H. Bowles (1918) says that in Washington "cold weather does not seem to bother them much. On January 1, 1916, when all fresh-water marshes were frozen over, large numbers of them gathered on the Tacoma Flats." Mr. Skinner writes to me that in Yellowstone Park they are found in winter along creeks and rivers kept open by warm springs and on ground overflowed by warm water from the hot springs.

Aiken and Warren (1914) tell of the winter habits of the Wilson snipe, in El Paso County, Colorado, as follows:

Fountain Creek rarely freezes over entirely below its exit from the mountains, and along its banks there are many places where water that runs through the sand comes to the surface and forms springy holes and marshy meadows which are warmer than surface water. These become the winter feeding grounds for the snipe and one or a pair often content themselves with a very small area of muck. But at times of severe cold many of the smaller holes freeze and then the snipe concentrate at places where a larger flow of water keeps the holes open. On January 15, 1908, with 6 inches of snow on the ground and below zero weather Aiken visited a small beaver pond on the Skinner ranch 6 miles south of Colorado Springs. A bit of marsh above the pond and a short stretch of ooze along the outlet below remained open, and in this small area of one-fourth of an acre were 25 to 30 snipe. Some years ago a snipe was found running upon the ice when everything in the vicinity was frozen solid. A few snipe winter along banks of streams in the mountains.

That snipe know enough to protect themselves from storms may be illustrated by narrating here one of Aiken's experiences in Utah about 20 years ago. He was beating a snipe marsh near one edge of which extended a narrow arroyo or gully in which were some trees and bushes. The weather had been fair until without warning a heavy snow storm set in. At once snipe began to rise wildly from different parts of the marsh and one after another directed their flight toward the same point in the arroyo and dove between its banks. Upon investigation 8 or 10 snipe were found together in a little cave in the side of the arroyo that was partly hidden by bushes so that they were well protected from any storm. We conclude this was not the first time the snipe had resorted to this friendly shelter since they knew so well where to go.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—North America, Central America, the West Indies, and northern South America. Accidental in the Hawaiian Islands.

Breeding range.—North to Alaska (Shumagin Islands, Bethel, St. Michael, Nome, Kowak River, Cape Smith, and Fort Yukon); Mackenzie (La Pierre House, Fort Anderson, Dease River, and Fort Smith); northeastern Manitoba (Fort Churchill); northern Ontario (Cape Henrietta Maria); Ungava (Fort George and Great Whale River); Labrador (Nain); and Newfoundland (Halls Bay, Grand Lake, and St. Johns). East to Labrador (Nain); Newfoundland (St. Johns); eastern Quebec (Magdalen Islands); Nova Scotia (Baddeck and Halifax); Maine (Calais and Waldo County); Massachusetts (Salem and Brookline); Connecticut (Portland); New York (Croton Falls); New Jersey (Newfoundland, Norristown, Trenton); and southeastern Pennsylvania (Mill Grove). South to southeastern Pennsylvania (Mill Grove); northwestern Pennsylvania (Meadville); northern Ohio (Fremont); northern Indiana (Miami, English Lake, and Cedar Lake); northern Illinois (Hinsdale and Winnebago); Iowa (Sabula, Grinnell, and Boone); Colorado (Estes Park, Barr, San Luis Lake, and Silverton); Utah (Parleys Park and Fairfield); southwestern Idaho (Nampa); and northern California (Sierra Valley and Shasta Valley). West to northern California (Shasta Valley); Oregon (Fort Klamath, Corvallis, and Salem); Washington (Yakima and Olympia); British Columbia (Chilliwack, Vancouver, and Metlakatla); and Alaska (Sitka, Kodiak, Nushagak, and Shumagin Islands).

Wilson's snipe also have been detected in summer north to Chimo, Ungava, Hopedale, Labrador, and Sandwich Bay, Quebec, and have been found lingering (probably non-breeders) south to Chloride, New Mexico, and Corpus Christi and San Angelo, Texas, while there is one breeding record for northern Los Angeles County, California (Mailliard, 1914).

Winter range.—The Wilson snipe winters regularly north to Washington (Tacoma); British Columbia (Chilliwack and Okanagan Landing); Wyoming (Yellowstone Park); Colorado (El Paso County); southern Arizona (Tucson and Fort Huachuca); southern New Mexico (Rio Mimbres); Texas (Austin, Kerrville, and Bonham); Oklahoma (Caddo); Arkansas (Fayetteville and Stuttgart); Alabama (Coosada and Montgomery County); central North Carolina (Raleigh); and southeastern Virginia (Virginia Beach); eastern North Carolina (Pea Islands); Bermuda; South Carolina (Charleston); Georgia (Savannah and Blackbeard Island); Florida (Canaveral, Orlando, Kissimmee, and Royal Palm Hammock); Bahama Islands (New Providence, Watling Islands, and Great Inagua); Porto Rico (Guanica Lagoon); and the Lesser Antilles (Antigua, St. Vincent, Barbados, Grenada, and Trinidad). South to the Lesser Antilles (Trinidad); northern Venezuela (Caracas); Brazil (Rio de Janeiro); Colombia (Medellin and Puerto Berrio); and Panama (Frijole and Chitra). West to Panama (Chitra and the Canal Zone); Costa Rica (San Jose); Nicaragua (Greytown and the Escondido River); Honduras (Comayagua and Manatee Lagoon); Guatemala (Duenas and Atitlan); Mexico (Guanajuato, Escuinapa, Mazatlan, San Jose del Cabo, and Colonia Diaz); California (Salton Sea, Santa Barbara, San Francisco, and Eureka); and Washington (Tacoma).

It also has been known to winter (where warm springs or other factors assure open water) north to Nevada (Paradise), Utah (Provo), Montana (Terry, Helena, and near Bozeman), Wyoming (Como and Cody), Colorado (Fountain Creek, Sweetwater Lake, Clear Creek near Denver, and near Julesburg), Nebraska (Holt, Sioux, Dawes, and Cherry Counties, and along the Missouri River), North Dakota (Fort Yates), Iowa (Hancock County), Wisconsin (Milwaukee), Michigan (Grand Rapids), southern Ontario (Barrie), Ohio (Granville), New York (Oneida, Onondaga Lake, Poughkeepsie, Ithaca, New York City, and Long Island), Connecticut (Portland and New Haven), Massachusetts (Jamaica Plain, near Boston, Peabody, Hancock, and Cape Cod), and Nova Scotia (Wolfville). It has been detected in Alaska at Wrangell, on November 11, 1920, and at Craig, on December 7, 1919.

Spring migration.—Early dates of arrival in the spring are: District of Columbia, Washington, February 17; Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, March 7, Harrisburg, March 11, Carlisle, March 18, Berwyn, March 21, and Meadville, March 22; New Jersey, Fort Mott, March 16, and Pennsville, March 20; New York, Syracuse, February 26, Branchport, March 5, Orient Point, March 12, Buffalo, March 13, Brockport, March 18, Lansing, March 29, Oswego, April 1, and Ithaca, April 3; Connecticut, Portland, March 18, and New Haven, March 19; Massachusetts, Lynn, March 2, Newburyport, March 8, Boston, March 19, Somerset, March 21, and Salem, March 21; Vermont, Rutland, April 2; Maine, Farmington, April 6, and Lewiston, April 8; Quebec, Quebec, April 18, Montreal, April 19, and Godbout, May 5; New Brunswick, Scotch Lake, April 5, Petitcodiac, April 27, and Chatham, April 28; Nova Scotia, Halifax, April 5, Pictou, April 11, and Kentville, April 19; Kentucky, Bowling Green, February 24, Guthrie, February 25, and Russellville, February 26; Missouri, St. Louis, February 17, Old Orchard, February 20, Chillicothe, March 2, Jonesburg, March 11, and Kansas City, March 14; Illinois, Lebanon, February 11, Odin, March 6, Addison, March 10, Carlinville, March 11, Englewood, March 15, Morgan Park, March 17, Rockford, March 19, and Wheaton, March 26; Indiana, Bicknell, February 13, Greensburg, February 28, Frankfort, March 4, Greencastle, March 5, Bloomington, March 6, Brookville, March 7, Terre Haute, March 9, Vincennes, March 11, and Waterloo, March 12; Ohio, Granville, March 3, Cleveland, March 4, Columbus, March 8, Hudson, March 11, Sandusky, March 13, Oberlin, March 15, and New Bremen, March 18; Michigan, Ann Arbor, March 6, Vicksburg, March 18, Hillsdale, March 21, Kalamazoo, March 22, Battle Creek, March 24, Manchester, March 25, and Detroit, March 28; Ontario, Dunnville, March 24, Madoc, March 29, Queensboro, March 30, and Listowel, April 1; Iowa, Sabula, March 15, Boone, March 17, Grinnell, March 18, Keokuk, March 18, Coralville, March 19, Wall Lake, March 22, Cedar Rapids, March 23, and Sioux City, March 28; Wisconsin. Hillside, March 16, Madison, March 18, Elkhorn, March 19, Waukesha, March 20, Delavan, March 23, and Racine, March 24; Minnesota, Hutchinson, March 30, Minneapolis, March 29, Heron Lake, April 1, and Elk River, April 2; Oklahoma, Copan, March 8; Kansas, Emporia, March 14, Independence, March 19, and Wichita, March 19; Nebraska, Falls City, March 15, and Badger, March 25; South Dakota, Forestburg, March 12, Huron, March 15, and Sioux Falls, March 15; North Dakota, Fargo, April 15, Larimore, April 16, Lisbon, April 18, and Grafton, April 19; Manitoba, Greenridge, April 2, Dalton, April 8, Reaburn, April 9, Margaret, April 10, Aweme, April 14, and Shell River, April 16; Saskatchewan, Qu'Appelle, April 9, and Indian Head, April 20; Colorado, Denver, March 10, Boulder, March 19, and Sweetwater Lake, March 26; Wyoming, Yellowstone Park, March 16; Idaho, Neeley, March 24, Meridian, April 9, and Payette Lake, April 17; Montana, Missoula, March 4, Helena, March 12, and Columbia Falls, March 27; Alberta, Onoway, April 13, Carvel, April 15, and Edmonton, April 21; and Mackenzie, Fort Providence, May 2, and Fort Simpson, May 10.

Late dates of departure in the spring are: Costa Rica, February 16; Haiti, April 13; Florida, Tallahassee, April 10, Fruitland Park, April 10, Gainesville, April 15, and St. Marks, May 10; Georgia, Cumberland, April 14, and Savannah, April 15; South Carolina, Columbia, April 19, and Charleston, May 1; Chihuahua, Lake Palomas, April 8; Lower California, Colnett, April 8, and Salton River, April 19; and Texas, Kerrville, April 11, Bonham, April 30, and Austin, April 30.

Fall migration.—Early dates of arrival in the fall are: Texas, Tivoli, August 19; Lower California, San Jose del Cabo, August 28; Chihuahua, Janos River, September 5, and Chuechupa, September 19; Sonora, August 19; South Carolina, Frogmore, September 10; Georgia, Savannah, September 15; Florida, St. Marks, September 12; Lesser Antilles, St. Croix, September 24, and Barbadoes, October 11; Porto Rico, Guanica Lagoon, September 29; Costa Rica, October 9; and Panama, Canal Zone, October 7.

Late dates of departure in the fall are: Montana, Big Sandy, October 24, and Missoula, December 5; Idaho, Meridian, November 21, and Ketchum, December 20; Wyoming, Sundance, November 25, and Yellowstone Park, December 9; Utah, Provo, November 25; Colorado, Greeley, November 3, and Boulder, December 24; Manitoba, Killarney, October 24, Aweme, November 5, and Margaret, November 10; North Dakota, Chase Lake, October 21, Westhope, November 3, and Marstonmoor, November 3; South Dakota, Harrison, October 24, and Sioux Falls, November 22; Nebraska, Falls City, November 20, Crawford, December 7, and Broken Bow, December 12; Kansas, Independence, December 13; Minnesota, Elk River, November 1, Jackson, November 6, Parkers Prairie, November 7, Fort Snelling, November 13, and Heron Lake, November 14; Wisconsin, Unity, November 3, Madison, November 6, Elkhorn, November 8, Shiocton, November 13, North Freedom, November 14, and Milwaukee, November 15; Iowa, Davenport, November 2, Grinnell, November 4, Hillsboro, November 11, Indianola, November 15, Marshalltown, November 18, Wall Lake, November 28, and Keokuk, November 28; Ontario, Toronto, October 29, Longpoint, November 2, Windsor, November 9, Kingston, November 12, Ottawa, November 17, and Point Pelee, November 21; Michigan, Hillsdale, November 3, Ann Arbor, November 5, Manistee, November 7, Manchester, November 12, Detroit, November 15, and Vicksburg, December 30; Ohio, Scio, November 6, Salem, November 16, Oberlin, November 22, Youngstown, November 21, Sandusky, December 2, and Cleveland, December 29; Indiana, Bloomington, October 24, Bicknell, November 9, and Lyons, November 25; Illinois, Glen Ellyn, November 4, Canton, November 8, Fernwood, November 13, Lawrenceville, November 15, Elgin, November 17, and La Grange, November 23; Missouri, St. Louis, November 21, and St. Charles County, December 14; Nova Scotia, Pictou, October 24, and Halifax, December 3; New Brunswick, Scotch Lake, October 20, and St. John, November 5; Quebec, Quebec, November 5, and Montreal, November 13; Maine, Lewiston, November 5, Ellsworth, November 8, and Portland, November 15; Massachusetts, East Templeton, November 23, Salem, November 25, Lynn, December 20, and Belchertown, December 20; Rhode Island, Newport, December 3; Connecticut, New Haven, December 1, Portland, December 7, and Lakeville, December 28; New York, Geneva, November 3, West Winfield, November 13, Fair Haven Light, November 17, Branchport, November 24, Shelter Island, November 29, Madison County, December 10, and Orient Point, December 20; New Jersey, Bloomfield, November 1, Camden, November 7, Egg Island, November 8, and Pennsville, December 1; Pennsylvania, Berwyn, November 1, and Erie, November 21; and District of Columbia, Washington, December 22.

Casual records.—A Wilson's snipe was killed at Naaleho Plantation, Kau, Hawaiian Islands, several years prior to 1900 and a second was reported as seen in the same locality in the fall of the same year (Henshaw, 1902). It also has been reported as taken in Great Britain, but the record is too doubtful to warrant serious consideration.

Egg dates.—Magdalen Islands: 36 records, June 1 to 27; 18 records, June 3 to 14. Alberta: 39 records, May 16 to July; 20 records, May 28 to June 10. Utah: 48 records, May 8 to July 24; 24 records, May 12 to June 2.

CAPELLA MEDIA (Latham)
GREAT SNIPE

Contributed by Francis Charles Robert Jourdain

HABITS

The claim of this species to a place on the American list rests on a specimen obtained from the Hudson's Bay Company in Canada many years ago and now in the collection of the British Museum. Its breeding home is in Northern Europe and Asia, but on migration and during the winter months it has been met with in the British Isles, throughout southern Europe and Africa south to the Cape Province, as well as southern Asia from India westward. Unlike the common snipe, it frequently occurs singly and is by no means confined to marshy spots, but may be met with on rough pastures, moorlands, and fields. To this characteristic it owes its name of "solitary snipe."

Spring.—On the northward migration it is of very rare occurrence in the British Isles, and has only been recorded on a few occasions in Morocco, but of regular occurrence in south Spain; but is not uncommon on passage in Malta in April and May and occurs in small numbers in Italy in April and May and in Corfu and Epirus in March, also migrating in greater numbers along the west coast of the Black Sea. Probably the majority of the birds which visit South Africa make their way northward along the east side of the Continent. The northerly movement begins in Natal in January or February, so that it extends over a period of four or five months.

Courtship.—Observations on the courtship of this species are not numerous, for it is nocturnal in its habits and, except during the mating season, decidedly unsociable. In western Europe there has been a great diminution of the breeding stock of late years. Jutland, which was at one time a well-known breeding place, has long been entirely deserted, and it is necessary to visit the morasses of Scandinavia and Esthonia or Finland and Russia before one can make the acquaintance of this species in any numbers on its nesting ground. Unlike the common and jack snipe, there are no aerial evolutions to call attention to the display, but the whole is conducted on the ground between sunset and sunrise; and as the notes of the birds are not loud, it may well be imagined that it may readily be overlooked. The number of birds which attend at the "Spil," as it is called in Norway, or "Tok" (Russian), varies from eight to a dozen pairs to twenty or more in districts where the birds are comparatively common. Here late in May the males may be heard uttering low warbling notes, producing also sounds which have been compared to those made by running the nail along the teeth of a comb, and snapping their bills together, evidently in defiance. The display consists in expanding the tail like a fan and turning it over toward the back, the white outer feathers standing out conspicuously, with drooping wings and depressed and retracted head. In this attitude they perform a kind of dance, slowly at first, but becoming more and more rapid, and generally culminating in a series of fights between the rivals.

R. Collett, who furnished a long and detailed description of the procedure at one of these "leks" to Dresser (1871), is of opinion that the fighting is not of a serious character and consists chiefly of feeble slashes with the wings, but the Russian naturalist Alphéraky, a translation of whose interesting paper on the subject appeared in the Field for 1906 (p. 1075) with an illustration of the display, describes the ground as often strewn with feathers after these encounters. In the more northern latitudes there is of course little darkness, but there is a consensus of opinion that the display dies down about midnight and commences again as it becomes lighter. Alphéraky ascribes this to the arrival of the females on the scene. Clear and bright nights are most favorable for this performance, which seems to have some points of resemblance to that of the ruff and some to that of the black grouse (Lyrurus tetrix), but a series of observations are required before we can reconcile the discrepancies and fill up the gaps in the descriptions. According to Collett there is a period in the display when the bird is in a kind of ecstasy and produces a series of varied notes beginning with a whistle or two, followed by a snapping noise with five or six notes in rapid succession, then a hissing sound, followed by a rolling sbirrrr, which becomes deeper as uttered. A number of birds displaying at the same time produces a low continuous chorus of varied sounds. This is the more remarkable as the great snipe is at other seasons a particularly silent bird, and indeed is rarely heard to utter a sound of any kind, usually rising in silence.

Nesting.—The sites vary according to locality. In Jutland they were usually on grassy flats, but in Scandinavia generally on broken ground with birch scrub here and there. Here the female scratches a hollow among the moss and deposits her four handsome eggs. F. and P. Godman (1861), who found several nests in the Bodö district, Norway, discovered one which had an incomplete set of two eggs. On returning two days later to the spot nothing was visible but some disarranged bits of moss. Alarmed by their approach the bird flew off, leaving a hole in the moss through which the eggs were visible. On a third visit the bird was found incubating the two eggs, which were on the point of hatching, and was covered with fragments of moss which she had evidently torn up and thrown over herself. None of the other nests found were concealed in any way.

Eggs.—These are normally four in number, though occasionally three may be met with. They are pyriform in shape with a pale stone colored ground and boldly spotted and blotched with dark umber, shading into black and numerous ashy gray shell markings. The markings are usually denser and more concentrated at the big end, often with a tendency to a zone. The measurements of 100 eggs from northern Europe (69 by the writer, 19 by Goebel, and 12 by Rey) average 45.3 by 31.8 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 48.8 by 31.9, 46.2 by 33.3, 41.2 by 31.7, and 46.5 by 29.5 millimeters. Rey (1905) gives the average weight as 1.107 g. and Goebel as 1.035 g.

Young.—As to the share of the sexes in incubation our information is scanty; but, such as it is, goes to prove that it is conducted by the female alone. Naumann (1887) gives the period as 17 to 18 days and states that as soon as the young are dried they leave the nest and take to the long grass which effectually conceals them.

Plumages.—The reader is referred to A Practical Handbook of British Birds, edited by H. F. Witherby (1920), where a complete account of the plumages and molts of this species is given.

Food.—Naumann (1887) records small worms, insect larvae, small snails, coleoptera, water insects, and larvae of Phryganeidae. Yarrell (1871) includes larvae of insects, especially Tipulidae, and small slugs as well as worms. These last seem to form the staple diet.

Behavior.—The family parties soon break up and from late autumn to its arrival on the breeding grounds it is more likely to be met with singly than in company. Its flight is not so rapid as that of the common snipe, but slower and more direct, while instead of uttering the well known scape, it either rises in silence or merely utters a guttural croaking note.

Fall.—More frequently met with in the British Isles on the autumn migration from the end of July to mid-November than in spring, but probably frequently overlooked. By the beginning of August the young are full grown normally, and gradually make their way from the high north in Norway southward, the majority of migrants taking an easterly course and only a small proportion moving south-westward to the winter quarters.

DISTRIBUTION

Breeding range.—Norway, north to Tromsö, Sweden, to latitude 65° N., formerly in Denmark but now extinct, as also in Schleswig. It is said to have bred formerly in Holland and still does so in East Prussia and eastward to Estonia, Finland, Russia, according to Buturlin, up to latitude 63° near the Great Lakes, 65½° on the White Sea, and 67½° in the Petchora, while southward it is said to breed in Bessarabia (Rumania) and in the Governments of Kieff, Poltava, Kharkoff, and Voronsh, and to 51½° N. in the Urals as well as in the Caucasus. In Asia it breeds near Omsk, in the Altai and the tributaries of the Ob, but not beyond the Yenesei or in East Siberia.

Winter range.—Cape Province, Natal, Transvaal (September to March), Damara Land, Bechuana Land, Portuguese East Africa, Southwest Africa, Persia, Turkestan, and India (once).

Migration.—River Zambesi, Egypt (not uncommon), Alexandria, etc., Algeria, Greece (April 23, May 7), Cyprus, Corfu (March), Malta (March 30), Naples, Corsica (March 25), Valencia (October 9), Montenegro (April 15, 24), Asia Minor (May 9, Sept. 21), Fao, Persian Gulf, Iraq (April, Aug., Sept.).

Egg dates.—Formerly in Denmark from May 6 to June 8 (12 records), occasionally in July; in Scandinavia from end of May to middle of July (10 records, June 13 to July 15).

LYMNOCRYPTES MINIMUS (Brünnich)
JACK SNIPE

Contributed by Francis Charles Robert Jourdain

HABITS

Sometime during the spring of 1919, probably in April, a specimen of this snipe was taken by a native on St. Paul Island, Pribilof Islands, Alaska, and presented to G. Dallas Hanna. The bird is now in the collection of the California Academy of Sciences, and constitutes the only record for North America. It is, however, a widely distributed species, breeding not only in Arctic Europe, but also across the greater part of northern Asia, and wintering south to north Africa and southern Asia.

Courtship.—Of the courtship actions in the strict sense of the words we have practically no observations, as this species has rarely been kept in captivity and then singly and for short periods. The nuptial flight is, however, more conspicuous and was described in the oft-quoted letter of John Wolley, written from Muoniovara on November 27th, 1853, to W. C. Hewitson (1856), and published in the third edition of "Coloured Illustrations of the Eggs of British Birds" by that writer. To Wolley belongs the credit of being the first to discover and bring to the knowledge of naturalists the eggs of this species, for the eggs previously ascribed to this species from localities much farther south were not by any means satisfactorily authenticated. Wolley had been for some time at his headquarters on the borders of Sweden and what is now Finland, when, on June 17th, 1853, while working the great marsh at Muonioniska, he first heard the jack snipe, though as he states:

At the time I could not at all guess what it was—an extraordinary sound unlike anything I had heard before. I could not tell from what direction it came, and it filled me with a curious suspense. My Finnish interpreter thought it was a Capercally (Tetrao urogallus) and at the time I could not contradict him; but soon I found that it was a small bird gliding at a wild pace at a great height over the marsh. I know not how better to describe the noise than by likening it to the cantering of a horse in the distance over a hard hollow road; it came in fours with a similar cadence and a like clear, yet hollow, sound. The same day we found a nest which seemed of a kind unknown to me. The next morning I went to Kharto-uoma with a good strength of beaters. I kept them as well as I could in line, myself in the middle, my Swedish traveling companion on one side, and the Finn talker on the other. Whenever a bird was put off its nest the man who saw it was to pass on the word and the whole line was to stand whilst I went to examine the eggs and take them at once or observe the bearings of the spot for another visit as might be necessary. We had not been many hours in the marsh when I saw a bird get up before Herr Saloman, and I marked it down. In the meantime the nest was found and when I came up the owner was declared to have appeared striped on the back and not white over the tail. A sight of the eggs, as they lay untouched, raised my expectations to the highest pitch. I went to the spot where I had marked the bird, put it up again, found that it was indeed a jack snipe, and again saw it after a short, low flight drop suddenly into cover; once more it rose a few feet from where it had settled, I fired and in a minute had in my hand a true jack snipe, the undoubted parent of the nest of eggs. In the course of the day and night I found three more nests and examined the birds of each. One allowed me to touch it with my hand before it rose, and another only got up when my foot was within 6 inches of it. It was very fortunate that I was thus able satisfactorily to identify so fine a series of eggs, for they differ considerably from one another.

The great German ornithologist Naumann (1887) also describes the nuptial flight, as observed by him in still weather on spring evenings; as scarcely audible at over a hundred paces and recalling the tapping noise made by the death-watch beetle. He writes the sound as "Tettettettettett," etc., and says each note lasts six seconds at a time, as the bird sweeps over the marsh now rising and then falling in tone as it is uttered.

V. Russon, the Estonian ornithologist, also observed the flight on a marsh near Kurkull, in Estonia, and noticed that the snipe rose high in the air and gradually descended again after a flight of several hundred yards. He compares the sound to the words: "Lok-toggi, lok-toggi, lok-toggi," which certainly agree with the impression given by Wolley's graphic description. He says the local names current in the district are derived from the resemblance the bird's notes bear to the rattle of a dilapidated wagon wheel. In the night the jack snipe is silent, but the display begins again with the first glimmering of dawn, but does not as a rule last long. The note described by Naumann he only heard on two occasions just before the bird settled in the swamp and believed it to be caused by rapid snapping of the bill.

Nesting.—Like the common snipe, the jack snipe breeds in the marshes, choosing a slight hollow in a fairly dry, grassy, or sedge-grown spot, but close to open swamp. Wolley describes the five nests seen by him as being all alike in structure, "made loosely of little pieces of grass and equisetum not at all woven together, with a few old leaves of the dwarf birch." It is an extremely close sitter, not stirring from its eggs till almost trodden on, while one bird actually allowed Wolley to touch it with his hand before it flew. The breeding season is late, for eggs are rarely met with before mid-June and have been recorded throughout July and even in August.

Ralph Chislett (1927) has published his recent experience with the nesting habits of the jack snipe, from which the following is quoted:

The wide marsh stretched for a number of miles between the birch-clad slopes of some low hills. From the hillsides, at intervals, open sheets of water of varying dimensions could be seen, and a fringe of the birch forest stretched almost down to a small, peaty pool. Through the woodland fringe a stream hurried, clear and cold with melted snow from the hill. Leaving the stream at a place where yellow globe-flowers grew in profusion, we followed the ridges of soft ground which intersected the marsh. Progress was impeded by scrub-willow, while hummocks of moss and mounds of crowberry and vaccinium overlay the peat foundation of the ridge, many of the hummocks being white with cloudberry blooms. Between the ridges in the marshy tracts grass grew thinly through the moss, and still more thinly in the centers, where our feet were brought up firmly at a depth of eighteen inches by the still frozen bottom. Later in the summer the marshes would probably be deeper.

Not more than two hundred yards from the wood, a ridge sank and allowed the surplus water from one flattened area of grassy marsh to drain through to the next. On the north side of the trickle the ground rose slowly to the full height of the ridge again, perhaps a yard above the marsh-level. Midway up the little slope, on a dry bit of ground, a few stalks of scrub-birch partially shielded the jack snipe from view as it sat on the nest by the side of a cloudberry plant. Not that shelter was needed. The nest would never have been found had my foot not happened to drop within a few inches of it. Then away the bird flew, with a low, almost direct flight, without any sudden twists for some twenty yards, then down into the marsh. When flushed it disappeared from view into the marsh and was not seen again until within a few feet of the nest. Once, when spotted a couple of yards away, it covered that short distance a foot at a time, crouching down for a few seconds between each very short journey; then, still crouching, it covered the eggs and remained motionless.

The nest was found on June 12th, 1926, and it then contained four eggs. The last time I inspected it was on July 6th, when the eggs were cracking at their larger ends.

Eggs.—The eggs are extraordinarily large for the size of the bird, being but little smaller than those of the common snipe (Capella gallinago). They are, as a rule, more or less distinctly pyriform and are normally four in number. The ordinary types vary in ground color from "chamois" to "cream buff" in the buff types and "olive-lake" or "corn-olive" to "olive-buff" in the green types. As a rule, the markings are somewhat smaller and more uniformly distributed than in common snipes' eggs. They are in some shade of light or dark brown, such as "tawny," "russet-vinaceous," "chocolate," "liver," or "chestnut brown"; the underlying markings, which are numerous and conspicuous in some cases, are in various shades of "purple drab" or "drab-grey." The spiral smears, so frequently found in common snipes' eggs, seem to be absent from those of the jack snipe, and, though there are some cases of wide variation in coloring, a series will be found to be browner and less bold in markings than a corresponding number of the common species. The measurements of 146 eggs average 38.53 by 27.37 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 44.5 by 28.5, 40 by 30, 35 by 27 and 38 by 25.5 millimeters. Rey (1905) states that the shells are somewhat thinner and lighter than with the common snipe and gives the average weight as 660 grams.

Plumages.—The downy plumage is described by Dresser (1871) as follows, from a nestling obtained at Muonioniska:

Entire upper parts richly varied, deep rufous and black, dotted here and there with white; a buffy white streak passes from the forehead over the eye; below this is a dark-brown streak covering the lores to the eye; from the base of the lower mandible another white streak passes below the eye and one also from the chin (which is buffy white) along the side of the head to the nape; underparts dark-reddish brown, slightly varied with blackish brown; bill and legs much developed.

For descriptions of subsequent plumages and molts the reader is referred to "A Practical Handbook of British Birds," edited by H. F. Witherby (1920).

Food.—Probably consists mainly of worms, with a considerable mixture of insects and some vegetable matter (seeds, etc.). Naumann (1887) remarks that he has several times found grass seeds in stomachs and believes that vegetable matter is taken as well as insects and worms. Newstead records Coleoptera (3 cases), Mollusca (Tellina and Helix, 2 cases), vegetable matter (grass, etc.), sand, and pebbles. Cordeaux found fragments of fresh-water shells and a few bivalves (Pisidia), while Saxby met with plant fibers and mud.

Behavior and voice.—The jack snipe is an extremely silent bird, and to a great extent, solitary, outside the breeding season. The noises made during the nuptial flight have already been dealt with, but it is characteristic of the species that when flushed, unlike the common snipe, it nearly always rises in silence. Naumann, however, writes that on rare occasions, generally toward evening, a weak, high-pitched note may be uttered, like "Kitz" or "Kutz," which he compares to a bat's squeak. One may, however, put up twenty birds one after another without hearing anything, though very rarely a single "ahtch" is uttered, much more softly than the corresponding note of the common snipe. On being flushed it dashes off quickly with unsteady flight, but pitches again before rising to any height, and, except on migration or on its breeding ground, usually flies low.

Field marks.—Its solitary habits and small size are the best field characters, combined with the fact that it is not shy and usually rises at very short range, so that one gets a good view of it before it pitches again at no great distance, where it can be flushed again. The almost invariable absence of any note on rising is very characteristic.

DISTRIBUTION

Breeding range.—Scandinavian Lapland and Finland south to about latitude 64°. In Germany it is said to have bred in various localities from Schleswig Holstein to East Prussia, but there is no doubt that most of these records, if not all, are not, and can never be, satisfactorily authenticated. It does, however, breed in the Baltic Republics (Estonia and Latvia) and apparently in North Poland, while in Russia it breeds on the tundra south to the Governments of Perm, Kazan, Vologda, Jaroslav, Vladimir, Orel, Tula, and Tver. In Asia, though absent from the extreme north of Siberia, it is found in the Arctic Zone south to Tobolsk and north to the Boganida (lat. 70°), while eastward it ranges to the Kolyma delta.

Winter range.—While a few birds remain in favorable localities or mild weather at short distances south of their breeding quarters, the main body migrates through Europe south to the countries bordering the Mediterranean and its islands (Balearic Isles, Corsica, Sardinia, Malta, Sicily, Ionian Isles, Crete, Cyprus, etc.). In Africa it is met with in all the countries on the northern littoral from Morocco to Egypt; also up the Nile Valley to the Blue Nile (Lakes Nakuru and Naivasha), and sparingly to Kenya Colony. In Asia from West Palestine, South Iraq, Persia, Afghanistan, throughout India, Ceylon, Burma, China (scarce), Formosa, and Japan. In the Canaries it occurs only on passage in small numbers.

Spring migration.—In south Spain, end of February and early March; Corsica, February (late date March 27); Greece, February (late dates March 2 and 19); Italy, April and early May (latest date beginning of June); Cyprus, end of March and early April (late date April 16). In the British Isles the passage lasts from the end of March to the third week of May (late date June, North Uist); in Denmark, April; south Sweden from end of March to middle of April; in Hungary they leave about the end of March; and have been noted in Russia in the Caucasus, the Kirghis Steppes, and the Urals. In Asia they remain in Iraq to April 7; Sind, early April. Arrival noted on the Boganida June 8. In Africa, Morocco (February), Tunisia (February, March), Abyssinia (February), and Egypt (March).

Fall migration.—In the British Isles from mid September to end November (early dates, August 12, 1910, Norfolk; August 20, 1910, Essex; August 1, Norfolk). Heligoland (September and October); also met with in practically all European countries, reaching south Spain (November, end October, or early November). In Asia recorded from Asia Minor, Transjordania (October), arriving Sind (early October) and India (September-October).

Casual records.—Once recorded from the Faeroes (1910); also on Madeira (March 15, 1889); Andaman Isles (once), as well as on the Pribilof Isles.

Egg dates.—June 4 to 12 (2 records); 14 to 21 (8 records); 22 to 30 (2 records); July 1 to 14 (3 records); 15 to 28 (4 records); 29 to August 2 (2 records).

LIMNODROMUS GRISEUS GRISEUS (Gmelin)
EASTERN DOWITCHER

HABITS

The dowitcher, or, as I should prefer to see it called, the red-breasted snipe, occurs as a species entirely across the American continent. The long-billed dowitcher, the western form, was originally described as a distinct, full species; it has since been reduced to the rank of a subspecies, because of very evident intergradation; and now some very good ornithologists are in doubt as to the propriety of recognizing the two varieties in nomenclature at all, because no distinctly different breeding ranges for the two forms have been established, and typical (so-called) eastern birds have never been found breeding anywhere. What few breeding birds have come from Alaska and northern Mackenzie all seem to be scolopaceus, but griseus may still be found breeding there when we have larger series. I have had considerable correspondence with Prof. William Rowan about the breeding dowitchers of Alberta, including interchange of specimens. He seems to think that the Alberta birds are constantly distinct from either griseus or scolopaceus and perhaps worthy of a name. It seems to me that they are strictly intermediate and should not be named. In a letter recently received from P. A. Taverner he seems inclined to recognize the Alberta bird as a "short-billed bird resembling the eastern most, but intermediate, and with spotting characters different from either."

On migrations, and in winter, both forms are found entirely across the continent. The best that can be said is that griseus is more common on the Atlantic and scolopaceus is more common on the Pacific coast. Dr. Louis B. Bishop, with whom I have discussed this question, is inclined to call one a mutant of the other; he has some 200 dowitchers in his collection, from all parts of the country, those from the Atlantic and Pacific coasts being about equally divided and the two forms being about equally represented. In analyzing his series, taking into account length of bill, length of wing and brightness of color, he finds that: of griseus, 86 per cent are from the Atlantic coast, 2 per cent from the interior, and 12 per cent from the Pacific coast; and of scolopaceus, 14 per cent are from the Atlantic coast, 30 per cent from the interior, and 56 per cent from the Pacific coast. While collecting near Pasadena, California, on April 25, 1923, he shot into a large flock of dowitchers and picked up nine birds, all but one of which were typical griseus, in bill, wing, and color.

Spring.—The last of the dowitchers which winter in Florida, or migrate through there, leave for the north during May, though a general northward movement has been going on during April. The earliest birds sometimes reach Massachusetts by May 1, but usually the main flight comes along about May 20 and lasts for about ten days. Audubon (1840) observed large numbers of this species flying eastward along the coasts of Louisiana and Texas during April. And Arthur T. Wayne (1910) says that "these birds migrate to their breeding grounds in the far north between May 1 and 15, and when the tide is low in the afternoon and a light southerly wind prevails, flock after flock can be seen migrating in a northwesterly direction. I have yet to see these birds migrate along the coast line in the spring." This would seem to indicate an overland route from South Carolina, in addition to the Atlantic coast route referred to above. Professor Rowan writes to me that dowitchers are common on both migrations in Alberta, and says:

In a long series of spring and fall skins, there is every gradation from the supposed typical eastern form (griseus) to the so-called long-billed form (scolopaceus). Bill lengths and colors do not correspond as they are supposed to do. As far as this district is concerned, there is absolutely no evidence in support of the splitting of this species into two races. The only two really long-billed birds that have been taken, were deliberately collected from a flock as their bills were so obviously longer than those of their companions even in life. Intermediate lengths, forming a nicely graded series, have been secured. The colors and markings of the spring birds are infinite in variety, and do not correspond to the bill lengths that should go with them.

There is a northward migration through the interior, in which this form is undoubtedly represented, but to what extent it is hard to tell, as it is impossible to separate all the records. Both forms are recorded on migrations in California and British Columbia.

Courtship.—Richard C. Harlow has sent me some brief notes on the courtship of this species, as seen on its breeding grounds in Alberta. There were at least eight pairs of birds in the vicinity and they kept up their courtships until he left on June 9. The males apparently outnumber the females, for at least two females were seen surrounded by little groups of three or four males, frequently singing and displaying. "The male frequently strutted like a woodcock and displayed, and several times arose and gave his flight song, a clear, liquid, musical, contralto gurgle." Professor Rowan thinks that both sexes indulge in this song.

Nesting.—The breeding range of the eastern dowitcher is imperfectly known or not known at all, unless we include the birds which breed in Alberta under this form, where in my opinion they belong. Prof. Wells W. Cooke (1912) writes:

The nest and eggs of the dowitcher are not yet known to science, nor has the species been seen in summer at any place where it was probably breeding. The dowitcher is a common migrant on the coasts of New Jersey, New York, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts, and in fall is sometimes very abundant. Farther north its numbers decrease: New Hampshire, tolerably common in fall, no spring records; Maine, tolerably common spring and fall; Quebec, rare migrant; New Brunswick, no records; Nova Scotia, once (Sharpe); Prince Edward Island, once; Ungava, a few in August, 1860, at Henley Harbor (Coues), one June 10, 1883, at Fort Chimo (Turner). North of Ungava, the only record is that of a single accidental occurrence at Fiskenaes, Greenland (Reinhardt). Evidently the dowitcher does not breed in any numbers, on the eastern coast of Ungava. The probability that it does not breed there at all is strengthened by the fact that several first-class observers, who during the fall migration were in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, did not see any of the birds. It undoubtedly does not go into northeastern Keewatin and the islands of the Province of Franklin, for it is not reported by the various expeditions that have traveled and wintered in those districts, while the specimens taken on the west coast of Hudson Bay belong to the form called scolopaceus. The only district left for the breeding ground is the interior of Ungava and the eastern shore of Hudson Bay.

W. E. Clyde Todd, who has probably done more field work than anyone else on the east coast of Hudson Bay, writes to me:

Replying to your query about the dowitcher, it is my opinion that this species does not breed in the interior of northern Ungava, but I admit I have nothing to prove it one way or the other. It seems to me, though, that if it did breed there, it would be far more common than it is at the southern end of James Bay in migration, instead of being one of the rarer kinds. I never saw it anywhere north of this part, but then I have not been in northern Ungava in the breeding season.

Turner's record of a single bird at Fort Chimo, on June 10, 1883, seems to be the only peg on which to hang the Ungava theory; and this may have been a straggler. The Alberta birds are somewhat intermediate; and probably typical griseus, if there is any such thing, will be found breeding somewhere in the muskeg regions of central Canada between Alberta and Hudson Bay.

There are several sets of dowitcher's eggs in collections, from this general region, collected in 1903 and 1906, which have been looked upon with some suspicion; one came from Hayes River Flat, 25 miles north of 55°, one from just south of Little Slave Lake, and three from Little Red Deer River, Alberta. Now that the dowitcher has been definitely shown to breed in Alberta, these records look authentic.

To A. D. Henderson and his guests is due all the credit for recent positive evidence. On June 18, 1924, he found a pair of dowitchers with two young, only a day or two old, "near a small lake in a muskeg about 17 miles northeast of Fort Assiniboine." The following season he found dowitchers again at three different places in the same region, "probably a dozen pairs in all"; and on June 2, about 35 miles northeast of Fort Assiniboine, he took his first set of three fresh eggs. The nest was "in a muskeg in open growth of small tamarac trees about 125 yards from a lake"; he describes it as "a hollow in a lump of moss, scantily lined with a few tamarac twigs, leaves, and fine dry grass, at the root of a small dead alder about 12 inches high"; it measured 1³/4 inches deep and 4 inches across; the top was 4 inches above standing water.

Mr. Harlow, who was with Mr. Henderson the next year, 1926, took two sets of four eggs each. One "nest was in an extensive tundralike muskeg, very quaking and wet, and the nest was in a small bunch of dwarf birch, not over 12 inches high, on the end of a little ridge of moss and completely surrounded on three sides by water." The male was seen "singing" near the nest. He joined the female after she had fluttered off the nest and the pair were seen feeding together; several times they stood erect and rubbed their bills together. After the eggs were taken a set of phalarope's eggs was placed in the nest; the dowitcher returned took one look at the eggs and then flew away and was never seen near the nest again.

Eggs.—One of Mr. Henderson's sets was apparently complete with three eggs, but four is the usual number. There is probably no constant difference between the eggs of this and its long-billed relative. One of Mr. Harlow's sets he describes as "light olive-green, rather lightly marked with pin points, spots, flecks, and a few blotches of dark umber and dark brown." The other set, he says, is slightly darker olive-green and is "much more heavily spotted and blotched with small and large spots of umber and brown and under shell markings of a lighter color." The measurements of 18 Alberta eggs average 40.8 by 29.2 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 44 by 29.5, 41 by 30.3, 38.2 by 28.5, and 38.7 by 27.7 millimeters.

Plumages.—The plumages and molts, which are the same in both forms, are fully described under the long-billed dowitcher.

Food.—The favorite feeding grounds of the dowitchers are the mud flats and sand flats in sheltered bays and estuaries, or the borders of shallow ponds on the marshes, where they associate freely with small plovers and sandpipers. Although not inclined to move about actively, their feeding motions are very rapid, as they probe in the mud or sand with quick, perpendicular strokes of their long bills, driving them in their full length again and again in rapid succession; while feeding in shallow water the whole head is frequently immersed and sometimes several strokes are made with the head under water. Dr. E. R. P. Janvrin writes to me:

Mr. J. T. Nichols and I watched three individuals feeding on the salt meadows late in the afternoon, continuing our observations until it was so dark that we could hardly distinguish the birds any longer; at which time the birds were still feeding. The question arose whether dowitchers might not be nocturnal in their feeding habits, as is the case with the woodcock and Wilson's snipe, since the sense of sight is certainly not essential to their probing for food.

Various observers have noted among the food items of the dowitcher grasshoppers, beetles, flies, maggots, marine worms, oyster worms, leeches, water bugs, fish eggs, small mollusks, seeds of aquatic plants, and the roots of eelgrass.

Behavior.—Dowitchers are the gentlest and most unsuspicious of shore birds, which has made them easy prey for the avaricious gunner. Their flight is swift and steady, often protracted and sometimes at a great elevation, when looking for feeding places. They usually fly in compact flocks by themselves, sometimes performing interesting evolutions high in the air. They often fly, however, in flocks with other small waders, but the dowitchers are generally bunched together in the flock; I once shot four dowitchers out of a mixed flock without hitting any of the smaller birds. When a flock of dowitchers alights the birds are closely bunched, but they soon scatter out and begin to feed. If a flock is shot into, the sympathetic and confiding birds return again and again to their fallen companions until only a pitiful remnant is left to finally escape. Such slaughter of the innocents well-nigh exterminated this gentle species; but, now that it is protected, it is beginning to increase again.

Although all shore birds can swim, the dowitcher seems to be especially adept at it. Doctor Coues (1874) writes:

Being partly web-footed, this snipe swims tolerably well for a little distance in an emergency, as when it may get for a moment beyond its depth in wading about, or when it may fall, broken-winged, on the water. On such an occasion as this last, I have seen one swim bravely for 20 or 30 yards, with a curious bobbing motion of the head and corresponding jerking of the tail, to a hiding place in the rank grass across the pool. When thus hidden they keep perfectly still, and may be picked up without resistance, except a weak flutter, and perhaps a low, pleading cry for pity on their pain and helplessness. When feeding at their ease, in consciousness of peace and security, few birds are of more pleasing appearance. Their movements are graceful and their attitudes often beautifully statuesque.

W. E. D. Scott (1881) says:

A curious habit of this species was noted at the mouth of the Withlacoochee, where I saw the birds alight in very deep water and swim about for considerable time. This occurred in every instance after a flock had been fired at, and I thought at first that the birds had been wounded, but after observing the occurrence a number of times and on watching the birds while in the water I concluded that such was not the case. Those I noted were generally solitary individuals, but twice I saw three, and once four, alight in the water, swim lightly and gracefully about, and, when disturbed, rise easily and fly away.

Voice.—John T. Nichols has sent me the following notes on the characteristic calls of this species.

The flight note of the dowitcher resembles that of the lesser yellow-legs but is recognizably different, less loud and more hurried, usually suggesting the bird's name: dowitch, or dowitcher, sometimes of a single syllable. This call is subject to considerable variation. When used as a regular flight or recognition note I believe it is most frequently two-syllabled, clear and full. When the call becomes more abrupt and emphatic and the last syllable is multiplied it seems to indicate that the bird is excited rather than to have other especial significance; thus, dowicheche.

This note appears to be identical in the eastern dowitcher and the long-billed race which I have studied in Florida. Other minor calls of the dowitcher are single, unloud, low-pitched chups with which a flock manoeuvred about decoys (Long Island, August) resembling an analogous yellowleg note; a low rattle when dropping down to alight (Long Island, May); a mellow, ploverlike cluee, suggesting a call of single lesser yellow-legs when loath to leave a feeding ground, calling to other more restless individuals of their kind. This was heard from a single dowitcher on the ground when a flock of lesser yellow-legs was flushed a little way off. When these departed it took wing with more usual dowitcher calls and followed after (Long Island, July). I have on record also a startled chee from an extra tame long-billed dowitcher in Florida, flushed by being almost struck by something thrown at it.

While observing the shore bird migration on the coast of New Jersey, during the last week of May, with Dr. Harry C. Oberholser, we frequently heard the pretty and vivacious flight song of the dowitcher. It was a sibilant, whistling song, rather loud and with a staccato effect. Doctor Oberholser, whose ears are better than mine now are, wrote down his impressions of it for me. Three short notes were heard separately, tíliloo, tídilee and tíchilee, accented on the first syllable; the last two were commonest. The complete song sounded like tídilee-tí-tscha-tscha-tscha or tíchilee-tí-tsocha-tscha-tscha, with numerous variations and combinations of the above notes, a very striking song. This is somewhat similar in form to the song of the long-billed dowitcher heard on its breeding grounds and described by Dr. E. W. Nelson (1887); it is probably a courtship song.

Field marks.—The dowitcher when standing is a fat, chunky bird, with short greenish legs and a very long bill, with which it probes perpendicularly. In flight it also appears stout and usually carries its long bill pointed slightly downward; in adult plumage it appears very dark colored. It has none of the slender appearance of the yellow-legs and its flight is steadier. When seen flying away from the observer the grayish white central band on its back is conspicuous, as are the black and white, barred tail feathers.

Fall.—The dowitcher is one of the earliest of the fall migrants; probably the first arrivals are birds that, for one reason or another, have failed to raise broods of young, for the time elapsing between the late-spring migration and the early-fall flight is not sufficient for successful breeding. The first adults arrive on Cape Cod early in July; my earliest date is July 4. Adults are common all through July, and I have seen them as late as August 16. The young birds come along later, from August 8 to September 25. While with us they frequent the mud flats and edges of muddy ponds or bays in the marshes; they are seldom seen on the sandy beaches or far out on the sand flats. They associate freely with the smaller sandpipers, least, and semipalmated, or with the semipalmated plover and turnstones. Often in the great flocks of these small sandpipers a number of dowitchers may be easily recognized by their much larger size and very dark appearance, also by their much longer bills. They are then often concentrated in compact groups or strung out in a long line, close to the edge of the water, probing in the soft mud with quick strokes of their long bills. They are easily approached at such times, as they are almost as tame and unsuspicious as the little peep. When the flats are covered at high tide these birds resort to the salt marshes or meadows, where they rest and sleep; in such places they often lie very close and flush singly, much after the manner of Wilson snipe.

Game.—Dowitchers, or "brown backs," as they are called on Cape Cod, have been popular game birds, and immense numbers have been shot in past years. Audubon (1840) says that "it is not at all uncommon to shoot 20 or 30 of them at once. I have been present when 127 were killed by discharging three barrels, and have heard of many dozens having been procured at a shot." Edward Sturtevant says that a market hunter near Newport, Rhode Island, shot 1,058 dowitchers during the years from 1867 to 1874. Their popularity and their tameness nearly caused the extermination of the species. Mr. John C. Cahoon (1888) wrote then:

They have decreased very fast during the last five years, and where we saw a flock of several dozens then we now see them singly or in bunches not exceeding 10 or 12. They are the least shy of any of the shore birds, and it is due to this fact that they have decreased so fast. They are easily decoyed, and although they fly swiftly their motion is steady and they keep closely together. They alight in a compact bunch, and the gunner usually shoots into them before they scatter out. Many are killed by a single discharge, and those that remain spring up with a sharp whistle and fly a short distance away, when hearing what they think to be the call of a deserted comrade they wheel about and come skimming bravely back to the murderous spot where they were first shot at. Again they are shot at, and again the remaining half dozen are loath to leave their dead and dying companions, and return to share their fate. One or two may escape, and as they drop silently down on some lonely sand spit, sad relics of their departed companions, what sorrowful thoughts must be theirs as they wait for their comrades that will never come.

Since that time the species has been saved by removing it from the game-bird list, and it has increased considerably until now it is again a fairly common bird. When flying in flocks it is too easily killed to offer the sportsman much of a thrill, but when flushed singly on the meadows it has more of a sporting chance for its life.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—Chiefly eastern North America, islands of the Caribbean Sea and central South America; casual in Greenland, Alaska, the British Isles, and France.

Breeding range.—The dowitchers which have been found breeding in Alberta, from Little Red Deer River to Fort Assiniboine, are intermediate between griseus and scolopaceus, but nearer the former. Eggs have also been taken at Hayes River Flat and just south of Little Slave Lake, which are probably of this form. The breeding range of typical griseus probably lies between these points and the west side of Hudson Bay and perhaps extends north to the Arctic coast.

Winter range.—North to Louisiana (State game preserve, and Marsh Island) and probably rarely to North Carolina (Fort Macon). East to rarely North Carolina (Fort Macon); South Carolina (near Charleston, and Frogmore); Georgia (Savannah and Blackbeard Island); Florida (Amelia Island, Orange Hammock, and Bassenger); Bahama Islands (Great Inagua); Jamaica; Lesser Antilles (Guadeloupe, Barbadoes and Grenada); Trinidad; and Brazil (Para and Bahia). South to Brazil (Bahia); and northern Peru (Tumbez). West to northern Peru (Tumbez); Colombia (Medellin); Cuba (Isle of Pines); western Florida (Key West, Fort Myers, Sarasota Bay, Tarpon Springs, and Pensacola); Louisiana (Marsh Island); and southern California.

Spring migration.—Early dates of spring arrival are: Virginia, Hog Island, April 15, Norfolk, April 17, and Locustville, April 25; New Jersey, Long Beach, May 6, New Brunswick, May 16; New York, Shinnecock Bay Light, May 15, and Long Island, April 19; Connecticut, Norwalk, May 15; Rhode Island, Newport, May 20; Massachusetts, Monomoy Island, May 1; Quebec, Green Island, May 25; Quebec, May 28, and Fort Chimo, June 10; and New Brunswick, Grand Manan, June 13.

Late dates of spring departure are: New Jersey, Long Beach, May 20, Cape May, May 20, New Brunswick, May 23, and Elizabeth, May 31; New York, New York City, May 30, Long Island, June 12, and Long Beach, June 23.

Fall migration.—Early dates of fall arrival are: Massachusetts, Edgartown, July 4, Dennis, July 13, Monomoy Island, July 13, Marthas Vineyard, July 24, and Harvard, July 26; Rhode Island, Newport, July 10; Connecticut, Meriden, July 23; New York, Long Island, June 29, and East Hampton, July 1; New Jersey, Long Beach, July 6, and Cape May, July 10; Virginia, Cobb Island, June 19, and Bone Island, July 14; Georgia, Savannah, September 23; and Mississippi, Bay St. Louis, August 24. A few individuals may be found throughout the summer on the coast of Florida and other Southern States, but they are not known to breed in these regions.

Late dates of fall departure are: New Brunswick, Tabusintoc, October 23; Quebec, Labrador, August 23, and Montreal, September 27; Maine, Portland, August 13; Massachusetts, Harvard, August 25, Edgartown, September 4, and Cape Cod, October 23; Rhode Island, Newport, October 20; New York, Rochester, September 13, Orient, September 21, New York City, October 31, and Great West Bay Light, November 2; New Jersey, Long Beach, October 1; and Virginia, Hog Island, November 12.

Casual records.—The dowitcher has many times been taken outside of what appears to be its normal range, in fact there are so many records for the interior that it seems certain individuals regularly follow the flyway of the Mississippi Valley.

Among these records are Bermuda, Harris Bay, September 26, 1847, and August 21, 1848, Pearl Island, September 10, 1874, and Peniston Pond, September 17, 1875; District of Columbia, Washington, September 1879; Pennsylvania, Erie, July 19, 1892, and Carlisle, August 12, 1844, and September 12, 1844; Tennessee, Reelfoot Lake, November 27, 1875; Illinois, Mount Carmel, October 9, 1875, Calumet, October, 1881, South Chicago, May 6, 1893, and Grand Crossing, July 19, 1893; Indiana, Liverpool, September 9, 1892; Ohio, Pelee Island, August 10, 1924, and September 3, 1910, and Columbus, October 16, 1921; Michigan, Wayne County, July 16, 1906, August 26, 1905, and October 7, 1890; Ingham County, August 26, 1897, and East Lansing, August 14, 1908; Ontario, Toronto, August 1, 1894, August 24, 1891, and September 15, 1889, and Ottawa, May 9, 1890; Iowa, Burlington, August 6, 1893, and August 16, 1893, and Marshalltown, August 10, 1914; Wisconsin, Lake Koshkonong, August, 1886; Texas, Corpus Christi, May 18, 1886, San Patricio County, June 11, 1887, Fort Clarke, April 26, 1882, Padre Island, August 26 and 27, 1891, Aransas Bay, August 14, 1905, and Rockport, February 3, 1909; Idaho, St. Joseph Marshes, September 12, 1895 or 1896; Mackenzie, Fort Rae, June 9, 1893; Greenland, Fiskenaesset in 1854; Ungava, Fort Chimo, June 10, 1883; and Alaska, Nushagak, September 24, 1882, and June 9, 1884.

There also are 15 records of its occurrence in the British Isles; one each near Havre, and Picardy, France, and northeastern Siberia, near Jakutsk.

Egg dates.—Alberta: 9 records, June 1 to 16.

LIMNODROMUS GRISEUS SCOLOPACEUS (Say)
LONG-BILLED DOWITCHER

HABITS

This is supposed to be a western form of the species, characterized by an average larger size, a decidedly longer bill, and more uniformly rufous under parts in the adult spring plumage. It was first described and long regarded as a distinct species, but later developments have shown intergradation and it has been reduced to sub-specific rank. The above characters seem to hold good in all specimens collected on their breeding grounds in Alaska and northwestern Mackenzie; and these characters are distinctive and well marked. But in immature and winter plumages the form can be recognized only by size; and, as the measurements of the two forms overlap and intergrade, only the extremes can be positively named. The matter is further complicated by the fact that the migration and winter ranges of the two forms overlap. This form, scolopaceus, is by no means rare on the Atlantic coast, and griseus occurs regularly on the Pacific coast; intermediates are most abundant in the central valleys, but occur on both coasts.

Spring.—The long-billed dowitcher is a rather early spring migrant; the migration starts in March; the main flight through the United States is in April; and it reaches its northern breeding grounds in May. Dr. E. W. Nelson (1887) says of its arrival in northern Alaska:

In spring, the middle of May, as the snow disappears, and the first pale leaves of grass begin to thrust their spear-points through the dead vegetable mat on the ground, or as early as the 10th on some seasons, this peculiar snipe returns to its summer home. At the Yukon mouth I found them on May 12, when they were already engaged in love-making, though the ground was still, to a great extent, covered with snow, and only here and there appeared a thawed place where they could feed. Toward the end of this month they are plentiful, and their curious habits and loud notes make them among the most conspicuous denizens of the marshes.

Courtship.—Doctor Nelson (1887) writes:

These are very demonstrative birds in their love-making, and the last of May and first of June their loud cries are heard everywhere about their haunts, especially in morning and evening. Two or three males start in pursuit of a female and away they go twisting and turning, here and there, over marsh and stream, with marvelous swiftness and dexterity. At short intervals a male checks his flight for a moment to utter a strident pe-et u weet; wee-too, wee-too; then on he goes full tilt again. After they have mated, or when a solitary male pays his devotions, they rise 15 or 20 yards from the ground, where, hovering upon quivering wings, the bird pours forth a lisping but energetic and frequently musical song, which can be very imperfectly expressed by the syllables peet-peet; pee-ter-wee-too; wee-too; pee-ter-wee-too; pee-ter-wee-too; wee-too; wee-too. This is the complete song but frequently only fragments are sung, as when the bird is in pursuit of the female.

Herbert W. Brandt says in his notes:

The male long-billed dowitcher pours forth his wild musical song as he hovers in the air with raised vibrating wings, perhaps 50 feet above the object of his rapturous outburst. The female, from her retreat on the cozy border of a lowland pool, modestly watches the ardent lover as he renders his melodious homage. In common with many others of the shore dwellers, the most conspicuous courting action is the pursuit race by a number of males for their desired, but elusive, lady love. It is then that one marvels at the speed and agility displayed by apparently awkward birds, as they twist and dodge in their aerial wooing. Even during his swift flight the suitor tries, but with poor success, to continue his musical efforts for the benefit of his larger paramour.

Nesting.—MacFarlane's notes record brief descriptions of some half a dozen nests found in the Anderson River region and on the borders of the wooded country. These were all located on marshy ground near a swamp or small lake. One is described as "a mere depression in the midst of a tuft or decayed grass, lined with a few withered leaves." A set collected for me by F. S. Hersey, near St. Michael, Alaska, June 9, 1914, was taken from a hollow in the moss between two clumps of grass on the tundra; the female was flushed and shot. Mr. Brandt says in his notes:

The nest of the long-billed dowitcher is a mere depression scratched out on a small eminence on a wet moss-covered meadow through which short sedges grow sparingly to a height of about six inches. The nest, the bottom of which was usually wet, was in every case surrounded by shallow fresh water and the basinlike cavity was meagerly lined with grass and small leaves. In two nests the eggs rested on the cold wet moss foundation still frozen a few inches underneath and the scanty nesting material was all deposited on the rim of the nest. In every instance the female was conducting the incubation, but the male was in close attendance. The bird is a very close sitter and must be almost trodden upon before it will rise, wings spread, from its duties.

Eggs.—Four eggs seems to be the invariable rule for the long-billed dowitcher. In shape they vary from ovate pyriform to subpyriform; some are quite rounded and others are decidedly pointed. They have only a slight gloss. Mr. Brandt in his notes describes his four sets, as follows:

The ground color has considerable variation and shows two distinct types: The commoner one, the brown type, of which we found three sets is "Saccardo's olive"; and the other type, represented by a single set, is "greenish," shading to "bluish glaucous." The markings are bold, slightly elongated and seldom confluent, so that blotched markings are unusual. The eggs are medium to heavily spotted, causing the ground color to be conspicuous, and, in consequence, the underlying markings are very noticeable. The primary spots are in various shades of brown, namely: "Vandyke brown," "seal brown," and "Saccardo's umber," which make the egg one of unusual beauty. The underlying spots are "drab gray" to "light grayish olive" and are larger and more numerous than are found on the other limicoline eggs we collected at Hooper Bay.

In my set the ground colors vary from "dark olive buff" to "olive buff." Two of the eggs are irregularly spotted and blotched with spots of various sizes; one is quite evenly marked with small elongated spots; and another is sparingly spotted and blotched, chiefly about the larger end. The colors of the markings are "Saccardo's umber," "bister" and "warm sepia," with underlying markings of "deep" to "pale brownish drab." In other collections I have seen a number of sets that matched almost exactly certain types of heavily blotched eggs of the Wilson snipe; these may be within the normal range of dowitcher's eggs; but I have always been suspicious that some of them were wrongly identified. The measurements of 79 eggs average 41.8 by 28.9 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measures 45.5 by 30.5, 44 by 32, 37.5 by 29.2 and 39.4 by 26.3 millimeters.

Young.—H. B. Conover has sent me the following interesting notes:

Newly hatched young were found June 22nd. The incubation period seems to be about 20 days. A nest found by Murie on May 31 with two eggs, had four eggs on June 2, and on being visited the evening of June 22, was found to contain two young and two pipped eggs. The colors of the soft parts of a downy young several days old were as follows: Tarsus olive with blackish stripes down the sides, bill black, iris brown. In the newly hatched young the tarsus is much lighter. On June 23 while visiting the nest of a black-bellied plover, I came across a pair of dowitchers that from their actions appeared to have young. Not wishing to stop at the time, I passed on, but on returning several hours later, found them again in a marsh at the foot of a long, low hill. When I sat down to watch, one bird wheeled about me calling, and then flew off down the valley. The other bird at first I could not locate, but soon saw it flying about the hillside chirping. I noticed that as this bird passed over a certain spot, it would hover about 15 feet above the ground, giving a whistling trill. After a few minutes it dawned on me, that each time it hovered to give this call, it was a little farther up the hillside. When I moved up toward the top of the hill, the bird alighted close by, scolded for a while and then commenced the same performance as before. In this way in about half an hour the dowitcher and I had crossed the hill from one marsh to another, a distance of about 600 yards. During all this time its mate had appeared only twice, when it flew by calling and then disappeared again. Finally the bird I was following alighted in the marsh at the far side of the hill from where we had started, and began running short distances, stopping and then running on again. Watching through some field glasses, I soon saw a young one following at its heels. Rushing down suddenly, three downies were found hiding with their heads stuck into holes or depressions in the moss. They appeared to be several days old. Evidently the old dowitcher had led these young ones across the hill by simply hovering over or in front of them and calling. The bird was collected and proved to be a male. Just what the relation of the male and female to the eggs and young is in this species it is hard to say. From the experience above I believe the male does nine-tenths of the work in caring for the chicks. I think this will probably prove true as to the incubation of the eggs as well, but that the female takes some share in the hatching seems probable, as one collected in the vicinity of a nest showed incubation patches.

Plumages.—The downy young dowitcher somewhat resembles the young snipe, but has a somewhat different pattern of similar colors. The large central crown patch is black, clouded, or overcast, with "chestnut" tips and with two indefinite spots of whitish tips; the black extends down to the bill; a broad, black loral stripe extends from the eye to the bill, and a still broader postocular stripe from the eye to the nape; these two stripes are separated from the dark crown patch by a stripe which is "tawny" above the lores, buffy white over the eyes, and white around the posterior half of the crown. The chin is buffy white, and the throat and breast are "ochraceous tawny," becoming lighter and grayer on the belly. The upper parts are much like those of the snipe, variegated, or marbled, with black, "chestnut," and "umber brown," and spotted with small round white spots, terminal tufts, which are very thick on the wings and form roughly two rows down the back and two rows on each thigh.

In fresh juvenal plumage in July in Alaska, the crown, back, and scapulars are black, broadly edged with "cinnamon rufous" or "hazel"; the throat, breast, and flanks are gray, the feathers broadly tipped with "ochraceous tawny" and streaked with black or spotted with dusky; the tertials, innermost greater coverts, and the median coverts are edged with "cinnamon buff." These edgings are much browner in scolopaceus and paler buff in griseus.

A postjuvenal molt, beginning in September and lasting until December or later, involves a change of the body plumage, sometimes the tail and some of the wing coverts and scapulars. This produces the first winter plumage, which is like the adult winter plumage, except for the retained juvenal scapulars, tertials, and wing coverts. The first prenuptial molt is limited to a few scattering feathers in the body plumage, above and below, some of the scapulars and wing coverts, and the tail; these are like corresponding spring feathers of the adult. There is considerable individual variation in the amount of new feathers in this first nuptial plumage. I have seen birds in this plumage from March 28 to September 9. They do not go north to breed, but remain in the South during the summer. At the first postnuptial molt, in August, they assume the adult winter plumage. In some young birds the prenuptial molt seems to be omitted and the postnuptial molt seems to be a change from one winter plumage to another.

Adults have a partial prenuptial molt from February to May, involving all the body plumage, most of the scapulars, some of the tertials, the central pair of rectrices and the wing coverts. I have seen adults in full nuptial plumage as early as March 4 and as late as August 21. July and August birds are very black above, due to the wearing away of the buff edgings. There is much individual variation in the extent and intensity of the rufous and in the amount of black spotting on the breast. The complete postnuptial molt of adults begins in August and is often finished in September. I have seen several birds in which the primaries were being completely renewed during both months.

Food.—Preble and McAtee (1923) give the following report on the contents of two stomachs of long-billed dowitchers:

Two stomachs, of the two specimens last mentioned from St. Paul Island, have been examined and their contents were almost exclusively the larvae of midges (Chironomidae), of which there were more than 75 in one gizzard and more than 100 in the other. Vegetable débris, amounting to 3 per cent by bulk of the stomach contents, also was present, and it probably was picked up incidentally with the midge larvae. Included in the vegetable matter were seeds of bottle brush (Hippuris vulgaris), sedge (Carex sp.), and water chick-weed (Montia fontana).

Behavior.—I have never been able to discover any differences in behavior between the two forms of the dowitcher; their habits are doubtless similar. Some gunners think that they can distinguish the two forms by their notes, but the differences in notes are probably due to individual variations in a somewhat varied vocabulary. John T. Nichols (1920) one of the closest students and best authorities on shore birds' notes, says "the chances are there is no significant difference in the calls of the two races."

Fall.—S. F. Rathbun has sent me the following notes on the habits of this bird on its migrations through the State of Washington:

The long-billed dowitcher will be found in the company of almost any of the shore birds, in flocks of varying numbers, and even as single individuals, but appears to show somewhat of a partiality for the company of the black-bellied plover and the red-backed sandpiper. On this coast both its spring and autumnal migrations seem to be somewhat prolonged, for in the case of the former we have records from April 11 until late in May; and for the latter from early August until into November. It will be found alike on the sandy beaches and the muddy flats, seemingly showing no particular preference for either. When the tide is at its ebb on the flats the birds oftimes become widely scattered and single ones may be found in unexpected places. On one occasion as we were walking across a grassy marsh the head and neck of a long-billed dowitcher was seen exposed above the growth along the edge of one of the little channels running through the marsh. As we approached the bird it could be seen making attempts to rise, but this it was unable to do on account of being impeded by the length of the grass, and we drove the bird ahead until an open spot was reached when it then took wing, at this time being but a few feet away.

On various occasions while we were watching flocks of the small sandpipers about some bit of water, dowitchers would fly past and, being attracted by the calls of other birds, they then after circling for a moment or two would alight at the pool to feed. When thus engaged they give the impression of being somewhat deliberate in their actions and as they moved about some would frequently wade up to their breasts into the shallow water, often so remaining until by some action they seemed to lose a footing and when this occurred a retreat would be made into a more shallow part. Oftentimes one or more birds would suddenly cease feeding and assume a posture of repose and when this took place it was a common occurrence to see some standing on but one leg, thus to remain motionless for a time.

Dowitchers do not appear to be very shy when found in the flocks of the smaller sandpipers, but are the first birds to retreat as one approaches the flock; and on such occasions it is generally the case that one or more of them will suddenly take wing and put the entire flock in motion. They are swift-flying birds and when on the wing have a somewhat harsh note that is given from time to time. In their spring dress they are attractive, as at this time their under parts are a rich buff color, and a flock of dowitchers seen at this season with the light striking full on their breasts is indeed a handsome sight.

Winter.—Dowitchers occur in winter as far south as Ecuador and Peru. Dr. Frank M. Chapman (1926) referred the birds collected in Ecuador to scolopaceus. Nonbreeding birds, or immatures, remain there all summer, as they do in other parts of their winter range. I have taken both forms of dowitchers in Florida, where they winter regularly in small numbers.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—North America, Central America, Cuba, and northwestern South America. Casual in Japan.

Breeding range.—North to probably eastern Siberia (Cape Wankarem); Alaska (Kuparuk River and Point Barrow); probably Yukon (Herschel Island); and Mackenzie (Franklin Bay). East to Mackenzie (Franklin Bay). South to Mackenzie (Fort Anderson); Yukon (Lapierre House); and Alaska (Point Dall). West to Alaska (Point Dall, Pastolik, St. Michael, and Kowak River); and probably eastern Siberia (Cape Wankarem).

Winter range.—North to California (Los Banos and Santa Ana); Texas (Corpus Christi); Louisiana (State Game Preserve); Florida (East Goose Creek, Kissimmee, and Cape Canaveral); and probably Cuba (Santiago de Vegas and San Fernando). East to probably Cuba (Santiago de Vegas); Costa Rica (Alajuela); and probably Panama, Colombia, and Ecuador. South to Ecuador. West to Guatemala; Tehuantepec (San Mateo); Jalisco (La Barca); Lower California (La Paz, San Jose Mission and San Quentin); and California (San Diego and Los Banos).

Spring migration.—Early dates of spring arrival are: South Carolina, near Charleston, April 30; New York, Long Island, March 20; Illinois, Cary's Station, April 24, and Chicago, April 28; Minnesota, Heron Lake, May 1; Kansas, Manhattan, April 21, and Wichita, April 28; Nebraska, Callaway, April 8, and Omaha, April 28; Iowa, Wall Lake, May 9; South Dakota, Brown County, April 14, and Harrison, April 15; North Dakota, Menoken, May 7; Manitoba, Shoal Lake, April 24, Pilot Mound, May 1, and Margaret, May 18; Colorado, Loveland, April 6, Denver, April 26, and Durango, April 30; Wyoming, Cheyenne, May 2, and Lake Como, May 5; central and northern California, Alameda, March 15, Palo Alto, April 17, Ballona, April 19, and Stockton, April 20; Oregon, Malheur Lake, April 20; Washington, Menlo, May 1, and Fort Steilacoom, May 5; British Columbia, Courtenay, April 28, and Chilliwack, May 8; and Alaska, Craig, May 2, Kuiu Island, May 3, Fort Kenai, May 4, and St. Michael, May 20.

Late dates of spring departure are: Louisiana, New Orleans, March 20; Texas, Corpus Christi, April 20; Chihuahua, Lake Palomas, April 9; Lower California, Gardner's Lagoon, April 19; and southern California, Santa Barbara, May 2.

Fall migration.—Early dates of fall arrival are: British Columbia, Courtenay, July 7, and Okanagan Landing, July 19; California, Balboa Bay, July 6, Santa Barbara, July 18, and Fresno, August 6; Lower California, San Quentin, August 10, and San Jose del Cabo, August 28; Tehuantepec, San Mateo, August 12; Montana, Billings, July 31; Utah, Provo River, July 24; Saskatchewan, Hay Creek, July 3; Colorado, Barr, July 5, and Denver, July 24; North Dakota, Devil's Lake, July 20, and Mouse River, August 10; Texas, Brownsville, July 11; New York, Long Island, July 16; North Carolina, Pea and Brodie Islands, July 7; and South Carolina, near Charleston, July 20.

Late dates of fall departure are: British Columbia, Chilliwack, October 29; Washington, Seattle, October 9, and Point Chehalis, October 19; northern and central California, Easton, October 18, Alameda, October 29, and Stockton, November 5; Wyoming, Hutton's Lakes, October 14; Colorado, Denver, October 3; Manitoba, Margaret, October 10; South Dakota, Harrison, November 2; Nebraska, Valentine, October 28; Kansas, Lawrence, October 3; Minnesota, St. Vincent, October 9; Missouri, St. Louis, October 28; New York, Long Island, November 2; and South Carolina, September 10.

Casual records.—Occurrences of the long-billed dowitcher outside of its normal range must, of necessity be based upon the evidence of specimens, as it is frequently confused with the more common dowitcher of the Atlantic coast, from Maine to Florida. Seven were collected in the District of Columbia in April, 1884; one at North Haven, Connecticut, August 5, 1886; Hamilton, Ontario, August 21, 1891; Leighton, Alabama, May 15, 1891; Dauphin Island, Alabama (2), July 5, 1913; Detroit, Michigan, August 26, 1905; Yokohama, Japan, March 13; and Yezo, Japan, October 13.

Egg dates.—Arctic Canada: 18 records, June 6 to July 5; 9 records, June 21 to July 3. Alaska: 17 records, May 29 to July 1; 9 records, June 3 to 19.

MICROPALAMA HIMANTOPUS (Bonaparte)
STILT SANDPIPER

HABITS

Strangely enough I have never seen, or rather recognized, a stilt sandpiper in life. As it is often associated with the lesser yellow-legs and so easily mistaken for it, I may have overlooked it. It is a rare bird in the localities where most of my work on shorebirds has been done and it does not seem to be very common anywhere. It is more common on migrations in the Mississippi Valley than elsewhere, on its way to and from its restricted breeding range on the barren grounds and Arctic coast of Canada.

Spring.—The spring migration is almost directly north from the Gulf of Mexico to Great Slave Lake and then down the Mackenzie Valley and other valleys to the Arctic coast. It is rare in spring on the Atlantic coast. R. J. Longstreet writes to me that he saw three on May 4 and 5, and four on May 8, 1925, in Volusia County, Florida. C. G. Harrold tells me that it is a common spring migrant in Manitoba, "even abundant at times, a flock of nearly 300 being seen in May, 1924, at Whitewater Lake." A. G. Lawrence records it, at the same lake, as early as May 5 and as late as June 2; he calls it "uncommon to fairly common." At Beaver Lake, in northern Alberta, William Rowan saw flocks of from 20 to 25 birds every day from May 20 to 28, 1924. P. L. Hatch (1892) says that, in Minnesota, "they come in small flocks, and keep mostly about shallow ponds, and along the smaller streams flowing through the marshes," but he has "found them on the sandy beaches of some of the larger lakes on several occasions." He says "they are shy and exceedingly vigilant, making it no easy matter to get them."

Nesting.—Comparatively little is known about the nesting habits of the stilt sandpiper. Roderick MacFarlane (1891) found it "fairly abundant on the shores of Franklin Bay, where a number of nests with eggs and young were discovered. It is, however, very rare in the interior, only one nest having been taken at Rendezvous Lake on the borders of the wooded country east of Fort Anderson." A nest with three eggs, found on June 22, 1863, is described in his notes as "near a small lake and composed of a few decayed leaves placed in a depression in the ground, partly concealed by a tuft of grass;" the female was flushed off the nest and shot. The nest found at Rendezvous Lake is not described, but one found at Franklin Bay, on July 6 or 8, 1865, containing four fresh eggs, was "a mere depression in the ground, lined with a few withered leaves and grasses."

Eggs.—Four eggs is probably the usual number laid by the stilt sandpiper. They are ovate pyriform in shape. The only eggs I have been able to locate are the three sets in the United States National Museum, collected by MacFarlane. J. H. Riley has kindly sent me descriptions and measurements of these. In the set of four eggs the ground color is "ivory yellow" with large irregular blotches and spots of two shades of "mummy brown," and a few rather large shell markings of "hair brown," the latter mostly towards the larger end. The spots and blotches are a little heavier towards the larger end, also, but in no sense do they form a ring. Another set of two eggs is similar, but the spots and blotches are much smaller, more numerous, and more evenly distributed over the surface; some of the "mummy brown" spots are even becoming scrawls. The third set of two eggs are like the set of four, except that the ground color is "pale olive buff" and the "mummy brown" blotches are on the average smaller. The measurements of these 7 eggs average 35.5 by 25.1 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes 36 by 25, 35 by 26, 35 by 25 and 36 by 24.5 millimeters.

Young.—Mr. McFarlane (1891) says: "On one occasion we could not help admiring the courage and ingenuity displayed by both parents in defense of their young, which resulted in saving two of the latter from capture."

Plumages.—In natal down the stilt sandpiper closely resembles several of the other species of tundra-nesting sandpipers. It can generally be recognized by its relatively longer legs and by its longer bill, with a broader tip. The head markings are also a little different. The forehead, cheeks, and throat are dirty white, with a broad, black, median stripe from bill to crown, another (loral) from bill to eye, and a short one (malar) below it. The crown, back, wings, thighs, and rump are variegated or marbled with black (predominating) and dull browns, "tawny" to "ochraceous tawny," and profusely dotted with dull white terminal down tufts; these dots form a distinct circle around the crown patch, below which the whitish sides of the head are marked with "ochraceous tawny." The lower throat is washed with pale buff, and the rest of the under parts are white.

In the juvenal plumage in August the head and neck are streaked with gray and whitish; the crown is dusky, with buffy edgings; the mantle is brownish black and dusky, with "tawny" edgings on the blackest feathers in the back and scapulars, and with pale buff or whitish edgings on the rest of the mantle and tertials; the under parts are white, suffused with pale buff on the throat, breast, and flanks; the wing coverts are edged with pale buff or whitish; the upper tail coverts are white and but little marked; the central tail feathers are dusky, edged with white, and the others are white, margined with dusky. This plumage is not worn long, for the postjuvenal molt of the body plumage begins late in August and lasts through September, producing a first-winter plumage. This is similar to the winter plumage of adults, but can be recognized by the juvenal wing coverts, some scapulars, and tertials.

I have been unable to trace the first prenuptial molt of young birds, which is probably accomplished in South America, nor have I been able to recognize a first nuptial plumage. Possibly young birds may not come north during their first spring.

Adults have a partial prenuptial molt in April and May, involving the body plumage, most of the scapulars, and some of the wing coverts and tertials. The complete postnuptial molt begins sometimes during the first week in July and sometimes not until the last of that month, and is completed in about two months, including the wings. A specimen taken in Argentina on September 21 had renewed the wings and practically all of the body plumage. In winter plumage the upper parts are brownish gray, with narrow, light edgings; the sides of the head and the under parts are white, with little or no barring; there is a dark streak through the eye, but no rusty on the head.

Food.—Audubon (1840) watched a flock of about 30 stilt sandpipers feeding, of which he writes:

I saw a flock of about 30 long-legged sandpipers alight within 10 steps of me, near the water. They immediately scattered, following the margin of the retiring and advancing waves, in search of food, which I could see them procure by probing the wet sand in the manner of curlews, that is, to the full length of their bill, holding it for a short time in the sand, as if engaging in sucking up what they found. In this way they continued feeding on an extended line of shore of about 30 yards, and it was pleasing to see the alacrity with which they simultaneously advanced and retreated, according to the motions of the water. In about three-quarters of an hour, during all which time I had watched them with attention, they removed a few yards beyond the highest wash of the waves, huddled close together, and began to plume and cleanse themselves. In the stomachs of several individuals I found small worms, minute shellfish, and vegetable substances, among which were the hard seeds of plants unknown to me.

N.B. Moore watched a stilt sandpiper feeding in Florida and says in his notes:

It alighted within 20 feet of me and commenced feeding at once, in water that nearly covered the tarsi. I was surprised to see it slowly step along, carrying its bill immersed nearly up to the base, and sweeping it slowly from side to side, much in the manner of the roseate spoonbills, which were at the same moment feeding near by. I noticed no action like that of swallowing at any time, its motions being continuous—as described—until I shot it to make sure of the species.

Stuart T. Danforth (1925) says of the food of this species in Porto Rico:

Seven stomachs (five collected on August 20 and two on September 17) were available for examination. Animal matter composed 70.1 per cent of the food, and vegetable matter of 29.9 per cent. Bloodworms (Chironomid larvae) were the largest food item, forming 72.8 per cent of the animal food. From 150 to 600 bloodworms were found in all but two of the stomachs. Dytiscid larvae formed 15.5 per cent, small Planorbis snails 7.1 per cent, and mosquito larvae 0.8 per cent of the animal matter. The vegetable matter was composed of seeds. Seeds of Persicaria formed 80 per cent of the vegetable matter; seeds of Sesban emerus 7 per cent; seeds of Compositae 10.2 per cent, and rubbish 2.8 per cent.

Prof. William Rowan writes to me:

In very dirty weather, particularly if a gale is blowing, stilt sandpipers have been noted hunting for food high and dry on rough pasture. This is probably an exceptional performance correlated with this type of weather, for it has never been observed at other times.

John T. Nichols says in his notes:

Just how this species makes use of its somewhat peculiar bill is not very clear. I have seen it alighted on flooded dead marsh, wading in the puddles and picking at the projecting dead stubble about on its own level. Again I find in my journal reference to three birds which alighted in water to their thighs, and immediately began to feed, moving about close together, immersing the bill to the eyes for an instant or two.

Verdi Burtch (1925), referring to a bird he saw at Branchport, N.Y., says:

I saw it catch and with much effort swallow a small frog, after which it lost all interest in fishing. It walked off a few steps and stood on one foot, all humped up and with eyes closed; quite a contrast to the usual alert sandpiper pose.

Behavior.—Audubon (1840) writes:

The flight of these sandpipers is rapid and regular. They move compactly, and often when about to alight, or after being disturbed, incline their bodies to either side, showing alternately the upper and lower parts. On foot they move more like curlews than tringas, they being as it were more sedate in their deportment. At times, on the approach of a person, they squat on the ground, very much in the manner of the Esquimaux curlew, Numenius borealis; and their flesh is as delicate as that of the species just named.

Dr. Arthur A. Allen (1913), after referring to the companionship and resemblance between stilt sandpipers and lesser yellow-legs, says:

In their habits, however, the two species were quite different. The yellow-legs were always rangy birds and covered a great deal of ground while feeding. Even when resting they were conspicuous by the nervous jerking of the head and neck. In flight they usually formed fairly compact flocks but scattered upon alighting. The stilt sandpipers, on the other hand, were quiet birds and went about their search for food very systematically, gleaning everything in their way. They frequently fed in a space a few yards square for over an hour at a time. When at rest they showed none of the nervous traits of the yellow-legs, being much more sedate, neither jerking the head nor tilting the tail. In flight they were quite similar to the yellow-legs, but as soon as they alighted they bunched and frequently the whole flock fed with their bodies nearly touching. Like the yellow-legs, the stilt sandpipers were seldom seen upon the exposed mud but preferred wading where the water was from 1 to 3 inches in depth, so that the entire head and neck frequently disappeared beneath the surface of the water while feeding. The notes of the two birds, though similar in form, were wholly unlike in quality, that of the stilt sandpiper being mellower and lower in pitch.

Coues (1878) at first mistook birds of this species for dowitchers and did not recognize them until he had them in his hands. He says:

They gathered in the same compact groups, waded about in the same sedate, preoccupied manner, fed with the same motion of the head, probing obliquely in shallow water with the head submerged, were equally oblivious of my approach, and when wounded swam with equal facility. The close structural resemblances of the two species are evidently reflected in their general economy.

Mr. Nichols says in his notes:

On alighting the stilt sandpiper sometimes lifts its wings halfway for an instant, a mannerism characteristic of the tattler group, which it would seem to have acquired from its associate, the yellow-legs.

Voice.—Following are Mr. Nichols's notes on this subject:

The common flight note of the stilt sandpiper is very like the single whistled whu of the lesser yellow-legs, but recognizably lower pitched and hoarser, at times with a quaver, whr-r-u, and varying down to a shorter, less loud whrug. An unloud, reedy sher has been heard from two birds when flushing.

Though with different feeding habits, stilt sandpiper, dowitcher, and lesser yellow-legs frequent the same grounds, associate very freely on the wing, and all three have a very similar flight note, though sufficiently different for identification. Perhaps the very lack of close relationship in these birds has facilitated convergence of their habits and calls, and it is not unreasonable to suppose that close association, even imitation, has played some part in bringing about the likeness of their voices. The greater yellow-legs differs more from the lesser, both in flight note and flight habits, than do these other two unrelated species.

Field marks.—I quote again from Mr. Nichols's notes on field characters, as follows:

On the wing the stilt sandpiper resembles the lesser yellow-legs closely. Its smaller size is scarcely appreciable, even in a flock of yellow-legs, the members of which will usually be at slightly varying distances from the observer. Adults have appreciably darker (barred) lower parts, and young birds, particularly, are greyer above than yellow-legs at the same season in this latitude. The somewhat shorter legs do not project so far beyond the tail, but the proportionately longer bill (with slight apparent drop at its tip) is the stilt sandpiper's best field mark. Its bill is proportionately longer even than that of the greater yellow-legs, with which this species is unlikely to be confused, varying as it does away from the lesser yellow-legs in an opposite direction, both as regards size and in other subtle characters. The head and neck of a yellow-legs are more "shapely," differing in this respect somewhat as a black duck differs from sea ducks.

On the ground the stilt sandpiper stands lower than a yellow-legs, having decidedly shorter legs, and correspondingly higher than our other shore birds of the same size. The color of its legs, dull olive green, is usually diagnostic. The legs are sometimes yellowish, and very rarely yellow, only one such having come under the writer's personal notice, a young bird in southward migration. The name "greenleg" is often used for it by Long Island baymen, who also suspect it of being a cross between yellow-legs and dowitcher. At sufficiently close range the margination of the feathers of the upper parts is quite unlike the spotting of the yellow-legs' plumage.

The broad white stripe over the eye is conspicuous in any plumage and the whitish tail shows in flight, as different from the whitish triangle on the rump and back of the dowitcher or the white rump of the yellow-legs. Most of these field marks, however, are too subtle for easy recognition, unless seen under favorable circumstances.

Prof. William Rowan has sent me the following notes:

Identification marks of the stilt are excellent and it is quite an easy bird to spot in almost any circumstances. It has a rump pattern all to itself and is therefore readily detected in flight. The end of the tail is darker than that of a yellow-legs, but the white of the rump end, instead of forming a straight line across the back, is horseshoe shaped. Although the turnstone and semipalmated plovers are reminiscent, they are quite distinct and not to be confused. When wading—the birds prefer to be belly deep—the carriage of the head makes the species unmistakable. The bill is always held and thrust beneath the surface perpendicularly. This necessitates a straight neck. In profile the feeding individual can be mistaken for no other sandpiper, is quite distinct from the yellow-legs, and can really only be confused with a phalarope. The Wilson phalarope habitually wades in this part of the world, swimming only occasionally, but its markings are distinctive. A flock of stilts is the most characteristic sight and the species can be identified at a great distance. The curious position of the head just referred to and the crowding of the individuals into each other make a quite unmistakable combination. They feed practically shoulder to shoulder, seldom scattering. The yellow-legs of a flock are always scattered, and the general aspect of the individuals is entirely different. Stilts never bob their heads after the manner of yellow-legs.

Fall.—The fall migration of adults begins very early, coming along with the dowitchers and first summer yellow-legs. I have an adult female in my collection, taken on July 5, 1885, on Monomoy Island, Massachusetts. The main flight of adults comes along during the latter half of July and first half of August, in this State, and the young birds come through in August and September; but this is a rare bird here, and the flight generally lasts for only a few days.

Mr. Nichols tells me that:

On Long Island the stilt sandpiper is usually uncommon, occurring in small numbers often closely associated with lesser yellow-legs or dowitcher. Rarely it occurs in great waves or flights as on August 12, 1912. This flight was made up exclusively of adult birds, so far as the writer's observations went. For the remainder of that season the species was unusually common. If, in ordinary years, some 200 stilt sandpipers are present on Long Island in southward migration, there were probably 3,000 in 1912. The earliest I have seen this species south on Long Island is July 10, 1921, two or three or more individuals associated with 40 or 50 lesser yellow-legs.

In the interior this species is commoner than it is on the Atlantic coast. Mr. Harrold says that in Manitoba it is fairly common in the fall, adults being noted as early as July 5; the young birds are usually with the lesser yellow-legs in the fall. Mr. Hersey collected a series for me in Manitoba between July 18 and 29, 1913. Stilt sandpipers were formerly sold in the markets, mixed with bunches of summer yellow-legs, but their sale is now prohibited, and they are too small to be considered as game birds.

Winter.—The winter home of the stilt sandpiper seems to be in southern South America, Argentina, Paraguay, Uruguay, and Chile, but actual records substantiated by specimens are not numerous. Ernest Gibson (1920) shot some "out of a flock of over 100" which "might easily have been 200, so closely were they massed." They "were feeding on marshy ground; and as the flock rose at" his "approach, circled and passed away, the white under surfaces were quite dazzling in the sunlight." This was near Cape San Antonio, Buenos Aires, on December 27, 1913.

Dr. Alexander Wetmore (1926) writes:

The stilt sandpiper was encountered only in the Chaco, west of Puerto Pinasco, Paraguay, though it has been said that it is common in some parts of the Province of Buenos Aires in winter. At kilometer 80, on September 20, 1920, the first arrivals, a flock of a dozen, were recorded at the border of a lagoon; as I watched they rose suddenly to whirl rapidly away to the southward. On the following day about 20 were seen, and an adult female was taken. At Kilometer 170, on September 24, a small flock passed down the nearly dry channel of an alkaline stream known as the Riacho Salado, while at Laguna Wall (kilometer 200) about 30 were seen September 24, and 40 on the day following. The birds were found in little flocks, often mingled with other waders that walked or waded through shallow water on muddy shores where they probed with their bills for food.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—North America, south to southern South America. The stilt sandpiper is one of the rarer shore birds and but little is known of its range and migrations.

Breeding range.—North to probably northeastern Alaska (Demarcation Point); probably Yukon (Herschel Island); Mackenzie (Fort Anderson, Rendezvous Lake, Franklin Bay, and probably Kogaryuak River); and probably Keewatin (Cape Eskimo). East to probably Keewatin (Cape Eskimo); and probably Manitoba (Fort Churchill and York Factory). South to probably Manitoba (York Factory); and Mackenzie (Artillery Lake). West to Mackenzie (Artillery Lake); and probably Alaska (Demarcation Point). Eggs have been taken only in northern Mackenzie.

Winter range.—Imperfectly known, but probably north to Tepic (Acaponeta River); Zacatecas; Tamaulipas (Matamoros); rarely Texas (Corpus Christi); rarely Louisiana (State Game Preserve); and Cuba. East probably to Cuba; and Brazil (Ilha Grande). South probably to Brazil (Ilha Grande); Uruguay (Colonia); and Chile. West to Chile; Bolivia (Falls of the Madeira); central Peru (Chorillos and Yquitos); Ecuador (Babahoyo); Colombia (Cienaga); Nicaragua (Momotombo); Guatemala (Duenas); Oaxaca (Tehuantepec); Jalisco (Manzanillo and La Barca); and Tepic (Ocaponeta River).

Spring migration.—Early dates of arrival in the spring are: Florida, Banana Creek, March 10, Smyrna, March 26, and Pensacola, April 5; North Carolina, Cape Hatteras, May 19; New York, Long Island, May 18; Connecticut, Westport, May 28, and West Haven, May 30; Rhode Island, Sakonnet, May 9; Maine, Saco, May 5; Missouri, Kansas City, April 30; Illinois, Chicago, May 26; Iowa, Sioux City, May 7, Emmetsburg, May 10, and Wall Lake, May 23; Wisconsin, Racine, April 10; Minnesota, Wilder, May 1, and Waseca, May 14; Texas, Bonham, March 29; Kansas, McPherson, May 7; Nebraska, Kearney, May 6, and Neligh, May 10; South Dakota, Harrison, May 5, Vermilion, May 9, and Sioux Falls, May 14; North Dakota, Harrisburg, May 1, and Sweetwater, May 5; Manitoba, Whitewater Lake, May 12; Colorado, Barr, April 27, Fort Lyon, May 2, Colorado Springs, May 14, and Loveland, May 20; Wyoming, Cheyenne, May 25; Alberta, Fort Chipewyan, June 6; Mackenzie, Fort Resolution, May 19, and Athabaska delta, June 4; and Alaska, Demarcation Point, May 23.

Stilt sandpipers also have been detected as late as April in Cuba and Jamaica while a late date for their departure from Lake Palomas, Mexico, is April 7, from Dummetts, Florida, April 14 and Port Orange, Florida, May 5.

Fall migration.—Early dates of arrival for the species on its return from the North are: Colorado, Barr, July 5; North Dakota, Benson County, July 1, and Nelson's Lake, July 14; South Dakota, Forestburg, July 7; Nebraska, Lincoln, July 19; Iowa, Sioux City, July 12; Texas Corpus Christi, July 3; Ontario, Toronto, July 18; Maine, Chebeague Island, July 19, and Scarboro, July 30; New Hampshire, Rye, July 31; Massachusetts, Cape Cod, July 4, and Needham, July 24; Rhode Island, Newport, July 6, and Block Island, July 15; New York, East Hampton, July 11; North Carolina, Churches Island, July 29; Bahama Islands, Fortune Island, August 5; Barbados, July; St. Batholomew, September; and Paraguay, Kilometer 80, September 20.

Late dates of fall departure are: British Columbia, Sumas Lake, September 19; Colorado, Fort Lyon, September 8, Larimer County, September 9, and Barr, October 5; Mackenzie, Fort Simpson, August 19, and Lower Slave River, August 27; Manitoba, Carberry, August 29, and Qu'Appelle, September 16; Nebraska, Lincoln, November 11; Kansas, Lawrence, September 19; Wisconsin, Kelley Brook, September 13; Iowa, Burlington, September 28; Ontario, Toronto, September 26; Ohio, Columbus, October 4; Illinois, Chicago, September 1, Grand Crossing, September 23, and Cantine Lake, September 28; Missouri, St. Louis, September 12, and Kansas City, September 28; Maine, Scarboro, September 16; Massachusetts, Chatham, September 20, and Cape Cod, September 29; Rhode Island, Newport, September 9; New York, Buffalo, September 16, Bronx, September 19, Cayuga, October 10, and Jamaica, November 28; New Jersey, Morristown, October 16; Maryland, Pawtuxent River, September 8; District of Columbia, Anacostia River, October 26; North Carolina, Churches Island, September 23; and Florida, Fernandina, October 10, and Key West, November 1.

Casual records.—The rarity of the stilt sandpiper makes it difficult to determine whether some occurrences should be listed as regular migrants or as accidentals. Some of the following cases may be on the regular migration route of the species: Bermuda, two early in August, 1848 and one in early September, 1875; Newfoundland, Cow Head, September, 1867; Nova Scotia, Sable Island, August 18, 1902; New Brunswick, Courtenay Bay, September 8, 1881; and Montana, Chief Mountain, August, 1874.

Egg dates.—Arctic Canada: 3 records, June 22 and 27 and July 8.

CALIDRIS CANUTUS RUFUS (Wilson)
AMERICAN KNOT

HABITS

This cosmopolitan species, with a circumpolar breeding range, has been split into two generally recognized forms occupying the two hemispheres, with a doubtful third form, rodgersi, said to occupy eastern Asia. Our American bird is well named rufus on account of its color.

The knot, or redbreast, as it is called on Cape Cod, was a very abundant migrant all along the Atlantic coast of North America during the past century. George H. Mackay (1893) writes:

On the Dennis marshes and flats, at Chatham, the Nauset, Wellfleet, and Billingsgate, Cape Cod, and on the flats around Tuckernuck and Muskeget Islands, Mass., they used to be more numerous than in all the rest of New England combined, and being very gregarious they would collect in those places in exceedingly large numbers, estimates of which were useless. This was previous to 1850 and when the Cape Cod Railroad was completed only to Sandwich. Often, when riding on the top of the stage coach on the cape beyond this point, immense numbers of these birds could be seen, as they rose up in clouds, during the period that they sojourned there. It was at this time that the vicious practice of "fire-lighting" them prevailed, and a very great number of them were thus killed on the flats at night in the vicinity of Billingsgate (near Wellfleet). The mode of procedure was for two men to start out after dark at half tide, one of them to carry a lighted lantern, the other to reach and seize the birds, bite their necks, and put them in a bag slung over the shoulder. When near a flock they would approach them on their hands and knees, the birds being almost invariably taken on the flats. This practice continued several years before it was finally prohibited by law. I have it directly from an excellent authority that he has seen in the spring, six barrels of these birds (all of which had been taken in this manner) at one time, on the deck of the Cape Cod packet for Boston. He has also seen barrels of them, which had spoiled during the voyage, thrown overboard in Boston Harbor on arrival of the packet. The price of these birds at that time was 10 cents per dozen; mixed with them would be turnstones and black-bellied plover. Not one of these birds had been shot, all having been taken with the aid of a "fire-light."

Arthur T. Wayne (1910) says:

On May 18, 1895, I saw, on Long Island beach, a flock of these birds which I estimated to contain fully fifteen hundred individuals, while on May 21 of the same year, I observed a flock that had alighted on the beach, and that comprised without a doubt more than 3,000 birds.

Excessive shooting, both in spring and fall, reduced this species to a pitiful remnant of its former numbers; but spring shooting was stopped before it was too late and afterwards this bird was wisely taken off the list of game birds; it has increased slowly since then, but it is far from abundant now and makes only a short stay on Cape Cod.

Spring.—The main migration route of the knot in spring is northward along the Atlantic coast. The first birds usually reach the United States from South America early in April. On the west coast of Florida, in 1925, I took my first birds on April 2, and they were commonest about the middle of April. I have found them very common on the coast of South Carolina as late as May 23. Mr. Mackay (1893) writes:

They are still found in greater or less numbers along the Atlantic coast south of Chesapeake Bay. Near Charleston, S. C., Mr. William Brewster noted about 150 knots on May 6 and 8, 1885, and saw a number of flocks on May 13. They were flying by, or were alighted, on Sullivan Island beach. On May 17, 1883, he noted about 100 of these birds in the same locality. In the spring they pass Charlotte Harbor, Florida, so I am informed, in large numbers, coming up the coast from the south (a flight on May 26, 1890), at which time they are very tame. They are also more or less numerous near Morehead City, North Carolina (where they are known as "beach robins"), from May 15 to 30, their flight being along the beach, just over the surf, at early morning, coming from the east in the neighborhood of Point Lookout, 10 or 12 miles away, where they probably resorted to roost. This indicates that these birds were living in that locality.

On the Massachusetts coast the spring flight comes in May. Mr. Mackay (1893) says:

The most favorable time to expect them at this season is during fine, soft, south to southwest weather, and formerly they could be expected to pass in numbers between May 20 and June 5. In former times, when such conditions prevailed, thousands collected on Cape Cod, when they would remain for a few days to a week before resuming migration.

The knot is less common in the interior, but Prof. William Rowan evidently regards it as a regular migrant in Alberta during the latter part of May; his notes record a flock of about 200 on May 21 and one of over 150 on May 23.

It seems to be a comparatively rare migrant on the coast of California, where it never was abundant. But it still occurs in large numbers on the coast of Washington. In some notes from Gray's Harbor, sent to me by D. E. Brown, he mentions a flock of over 500 birds seen on May 14, 1920. And S. F. Rathbun has sent me the following notes:

Late on the afternoon of May 16, 1921, we were on the south side of Gray's Harbor, Washington, on a marsh meadow bordered by the tide flats. At this hour the tide was nearly at its full, and the many shore birds that had been feeding on the flats were forced to retreat before the incoming waters and in consequence were driven close to the edge of the meadow. Not far from where we lay concealed a very large number of these had assembled on a somewhat elevated stretch of ground near the meadows border, among them being several hundred of the knots, these in two or three compact flocks all the individuals of which were facing the wind. The knots were resting quietly although there was much movement going on among the shore birds. We could easily by the aid of our glasses, see many turnstones, a few greater yellow-legs, these keeping by themselves, and in the shallow water at the edge of the flats a very large number of red-backed sandpipers and long-billed dowitchers, flanked by an immense flock of the smaller sandpipers. At this time the sun was low in the west and its almost horizontal rays fell full on the breasts of the knots, for in facing the wind they happened to be turned toward the sun, whose light intensified the pale cinnamon of their breasts, this making a beautiful sight.

Without any warning nearly all of this mass of birds suddenly took wing. As they rose, the knots keeping by themselves separated into three compact flocks and rising high in the air then flew directly towards the north giving their calls as they did so, and this appears to be a habit of the species when taking wing. Again, the knot does not appear to fly aimlessly about as do many other of the shore birds, and is generally to be seen in flocks, the individuals of which are closely associated, although at times scattering birds will be observed; and in flight by the seeming course a flock will pursue, we always receive an impression that it has some objective point in view.

Dr. W. E. Ekblaw has sent me some very full notes on the habits of the knot in northwestern Greenland in which he says:

The knot is one of the commoner shore birds of northwest Greenland, but even so, not numerous anywhere. It arrives in the land as early as the end of May, for early in the spring of 1915 when my two Eskimos, Esayoo and Etukashoo, and I were encamped at Fort Conger on Discovery Harbor in latitude 81° 45´ N., we heard the keen call of the knots flying over our camp the afternoon of May 30. The first knots that come are generally in small flocks, but they soon mate and scatter to their nesting places, only a few coming together from time to time near the favorite feeding places. If the weather of early June be inclement the flocks do not scatter so soon, but remain together until the conditions become favorable for mating and nesting. It is quite likely that some of the pairs are already mated when they arrive, for the sex organs are fully developed and ready to function upon their arrival.

In northeastern Greenland the time of arrival is about the same, for A. L. Manniche (1910) writes:

The knots arrived at the Stormkap territory in couples at exactly the same time as did the other waders; in two summers, respectively, on June 2 and May 28. While the sanderlings, dunlins, turnstones, and ringed plovers immediately took to the sparsely occurring spots free from snow, the knots would prefer to go to the still snow-covered hollows in the marshes and moors, where I saw them running on the snow eagerly occupied in picking up the seed of Carex-and Luzula-tufts the ends of which here and there appeared over the snow. This sandpiper more than its relatives, feeds on plants at certain seasons. In the first days I also observed now and then a couple of knots on snowless spots on elevated table-lands and even on the top of the high gravel banks at Stormkap. These may, however, have settled there in order to rest after the voyage and not to search food. As soon as ponds of melting snow and fresh-water beaches free from ice were to be found, the knots would resort to these, and here the birds wading or swimming looked for animal diet. In this season the knot did not appear on the salt-water shore like other waders. Gradually as more extensive stretches of low-lying table-land became free from snow, the knots occurred more frequently here in their real nesting quarters; they would, however, still for a while often visit moors and marshes with a rich vegetation of Cyperaceae.

Courtship.—Doctor Ekblaw describes this as follows:

The courtship is brief but ardent. Whether it is the females that woo the males, as among the phalaropes, or as normally the males that woo the females, it is difficult to determine, for the breeding plumages of the two sexes are quite indistinguishable. On June 3, 1916, I observed closely the courtship of three knots high up on one of the plateaus of Numataksuah, back of North Star Bay. Two males (?) were evidently pursuing one female (?), she leading, they winging rapidly in her wake, contending as they flew; apparently all uttered the shrill piercing call to which the knots so frequently give voice during the mating and nesting season of early summer, and which one rarely, if ever, hears after the young are hatched. In great circles they flew, now and then stooping to a zigzag pirouetting and dodging, again rising in wide circles until they disappeared from sight in the bright sky, though their shrill calls came to earth as sharp and clear as ever.

In the ecstasy of the mating season a single bird may indulge himself (?) in a kind of dance flight alone. He rises high above the hills, sweeping the sky in great graceful circles not unlike the stately flight of the sparrow hawk, so smooth and calm it seems. From time to time he utters the shrill, clarion call of the mating season, or the soft coo-yee that is most common about the nesting grounds. Then suddenly he drops wildly, tumbling and tossing like a night jar at sunset, as suddenly to break his fall and soar for miles on still, outstretched wings, not a movement noticeable.

Mr. Manniche (1910) refers to it as follows:

The male suddenly gets up from the snow-clad ground, and producing the most beautiful flutelike notes, following an oblique line with rapid wing strokes, mounts to an enormous height often so high that he can not be followed with the naked eye. Up here in the clear frosty air he flies around in large circles on quivering wings and his melodious far-sounding notes are heard far and wide over the country, bringing joy to other birds of his own kin. The song sounds now more distant, now nearer, when three or four males are singing at the same time. Now and then the bird slides slowly downwards on stiff wings with the tail feathers spread; then again he makes himself invisible in the higher regions of the air, mounting on wings quivering even faster than before. Only now and then the observer—guided by the continuing song—succeeds for a moment in discerning the bird at a certain attitude of flight, when the strong sunlight falls upon his golden-colored breast or light wings. Gradually, as in increasing excitement he executes the convulsive vibrations of his wings, his song changes to single deeper notes—following quickly after each other—at last to die out while the bird at the same time drops to the earth on stiff wings strongly bent upward. This fine pairing song may be heard for more than a month everywhere at the breeding places, and it wonderfully enlivens this generally so desolate and silent nature. The song will at certain stages remind of the fluting call note of the curlew (Numenius arquatus), but it varies so much with the temper of the bird that it can hardly be expressed or compared with anything else.

Nesting.—The nesting habits of the knot long remained unknown; Arctic explorers were baffled in their attempts to find the nest; and the eggs were among the greatest desiderata of collectors. This is not to be wondered at, however, when we consider the remoteness of its far northern breeding grounds, its choice of its nesting sites on high inland plains, its widely scattered nests, and its habit of sitting very closely on its eggs and not returning to them after flushing. Col. H. W. Feilden (1879) writes:

Night after night I passed out on the hills trying to find the nest of the knot. Not a day passed without my seeing them feeding in small flocks; but they were very wild, rising with shrill cries when one approached within a quarter of a mile of the mud flats on which they were feeding. It is very extraordinary, considering the hundreds of miles traversed by myself and my companions—all of us on the lookout for this bird's eggs, and several of us experienced bird's-nesters—that we found no trace of its breeding until the young in down were discovered.

Some of the earlier records of knot's nests are open to doubt, but there can be no doubt about the two nests found by Peary in 1909. Referring to his own failure and Peary's success, Colonel Feilden (1920) says:

The nests and eggs of the knot were obtained by Peary in the vicinity of Floeberg Beach where the "Nares" expedition of 1875-76 wintered on the exposed coast of Grinnell Land north of 82° N. lat., and where Peary, on the Roosevelt, wintered in 1908 and 1909 at Cape Sheridan some 3 or 4 miles farther north, and which was the base for his ever-memorable adventure to the North Pole. Probably the reason why we failed in 1876 to obtain the eggs was due to our ignorance of the localities selected by the birds for nesting. We saw the birds circling over and feeding around the small pools of water left by the melted snow, which here and there were surrounded by sparse tufts of vegetation, and we gave too much of our scanty time to the searching of the marshy spots. Peary's photographs show that in Grinnell Land the knot has its nests on the more elevated slopes and surfaces covered by frost-riven rocks and shales. The finding of a knot's nest in Grinnell Land is not an easy task, and it is highly commendable that Peary on his return from the North Pole to Cape Sheridan, and in the midst of his engrossing and more important duties found occasions to take the unique photographs here reproduced.

Two nests with eggs were found by the Crockerland expedition in northwestern Greenland, of which Doctor Ekblaw has sent me the following account:

Though level lands along the shores and the river valleys, or about the pools constitute the feeding grounds of the knots, the high plateaus far back among the hills, covered with glacial gravel or frost-riven rubble, furnish their nesting sites. By this rather anomalous choice of nesting site, the knot was long able to keep its nest and eggs a secret, and it was not until the members of the Crockerland Arctic Expedition persistently ran down every clue that two full clutches of eggs in the nests were discovered in June, 1916, on a high flat-topped ridge back of North Star Bay, at least 3 miles from shore.

The nests are placed in shallow depressions among the brown clumps of Dryas integrifolia and Elyna bellardi which grow among the rubbles and gravel of the high ridges. The nest is merely a small hollow, apparently rudely shaped by the nesting bird. The bird in the nest is so like the terrane about her, that she is well-nigh indistinguishable from it, even to one who knows exactly where she is sitting. Trusting to her effective concealment, the mother bird does not flush from the nest until almost pushed from it. When I placed a camera only a foot from the sitting bird she did not leave it. Though frightened so sorely that she panted and her heart beat visibly, she stuck to her precious eggs. Her head turned to the wind, she crouched flat upon the eggs, her feathers ruffled wide to hide them. When finally I placed my hand upon her, she broke away, trying by the well-known shore-bird device of feigning injury and inability to fly to draw the intruders away. The bird did not appear at all shy and when she failed to draw us away, remained near us, evidently anxious, but trying to appear unconcerned. Now and then she uttered a soft, but sharply pleading call, more plaint than protest. One nesting bird did not leave her eggs until Doctor Hunt pushed her, protesting plaintively quite away from the nest, with the stock of his rifle.

A set of four eggs in Edward Arnold's collection was taken by Capt. Joseph Bernard, July 1, 1918, on Taylor Island, Victoria Land. The nest was in a dry spot in a wet marsh; there was a snow bank 50 yards from the nest and a pond on the south side of the nest 100 yards away. He watched the nest for three or four hours, from a hill 500 yards away, but did not see the bird again.

Eggs.—The knot lays four eggs, perhaps sometimes only three. The eggs are ovate pyriform in shape, with a slight gloss. In the set of three eggs, taken by the Crockerland expedition and now in Col. John E. Thayer's collection, the ground colors vary from "pale olive buff" to "olive buff"; they are spotted all over, but more thickly at the larger end, with small spots or scrawls of "sepia," "Saccardo's umber," and "Vandyke brown," with underlying spots of "pallid" and "pale brownish drab."

The other set of four eggs, from the same source and now in the American Museum of Natural History, is thus described for me by Ludlow Griscom:

Ground color varying from white with the faintest tinge of light olive (1 egg) to "olive buff" (2 eggs) and deep "olive buff" (1 egg); clouded and spotted, especially at the larger end, with shades of color varying from "dark olive buff" to "olive brownish," the intensity varying in direct proportion to the intensity of the ground color; where the spots coalesce into blotches at the larger end of the darkest egg, the color is blackish brown; the spotting is scant at the smaller end.

Referring in his notes to the same two sets of eggs, Doctor Ekblaw describes the ground colors as varying from very light pea-green, almost gray, to dark pea-green, "with brown, umber, and almost black dots and blotches of varying size and shape over the green, and faint subcrustal lavender blotches showing through." Other eggs which I have seen figured or described would fit these descriptions fairly well. The measurements of 42 eggs average 43.1 by 29.6 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 49.8 by 33.8, 39.9 by 29.7 and 41.5 by 27.7 millimeters.

Young.—The period of incubation is said to be between 20 and 25 days. Both sexes have been taken with incubation patches, so this duty is doubtless shared by both. I quote from Doctor Ekblaw's notes again:

Though we found but two clutches of eggs, we discovered many families of young birds. They are able to leave the nest as soon as hatched, little gray downy chicks with faint blotches of brown, so like the dried tufts of dryas as to be quite undiscoverable when hidden among them. Three or four, or rarely five, chicks constitute the group. Their faint plaintive "cheeps" are so ventriloquistic and illusory that it is impossible to distinguish the direction from which they come. When an intruder approaches the little fellows squat at the signal from the parent bird wherever they happen to be at the time, and remain immovable as the pebbles and tufts of dryas until the danger is over, even though it be hours before the safety seems assured. Even the tiniest of these downy fledglings seem able to look after themselves. They run eagerly and constantly about independently pursuing the moths, crane flies, and flies upon which they feed, often 40 or 50 feet from their mother. The first signal from the mother, a mellow, solicitous coo-ee transforms them into immovable pebbles or tufts of dryas. When they are discovered and realize that their concealment is no longer effective, they scatter panic stricken like a flock of little chickens, chirping appealingly to their "mother" who dashes valiantly to their defense, quite beside "herself" with concern, fear, and anger.

Whenever the jaegers, relentless brigands of birdland, appear, the old knots do not hesitate to attack. In combining their forces, they drive full into the bigger birds, striking them from beneath again and again, until they chase them away. The young grow fast. In three weeks after hatching they are almost full grown and half-clothed in feathers, quite capable of taking care of themselves. They stay until they leave among the interior plains and plateaus, coming down to shore only when they are able to fly—and then the southward migration begins at once.

Apparently, the knots, like the phalaropes, reverse part of their secondary sex characteristics, for all the birds caring for the young that I collected were males, beyond doubt. When I examined the first bird that I collected with its young, I was surprised to find that the supposed "mother," who had so valiantly and zealously shielded "her" little ones, was actually father. I thought then that perhaps the mother bird had been killed and that in the emergency the father had assumed the responsibility for the youngsters; but later I became convinced by examination of many birds, that invariably it is the male that cares for the fledglings after they are hatched. The female incubates the eggs, but the male relieves her of further care in bringing up the family.

Plumages.—In its natal down the young knot can be easily recognized by the grayish, mottled colors on the upper parts and the absence of browns and bright buffs. The shape of the bill, characteristic of the species, is also diagnostic. The crown, back, rump, wings, and thighs are finely mottled or spotted with black, white, gray and dull "cinnamon buff," the last being the basal color. The forehead, the sides of the head, the throat, and the entire under parts are dull white, tinged with grayish on the flanks and crissum. There is a broad median stripe on the forehead, a broad loral stripe from the bill to the eye and a narrower rictal stripe of black.

The juvenal plumage appears first on the wings, scapulars, and sides of the breast; the primaries burst their sheaths before the young bird is half grown. In the juvenal plumage, as seen on migration in August, the crown is heavily streaked with blackish brown, the feathers being edged with light buff; the feathers of the back and scapulars have an outer border of light buff, then a black border, then another buff, and sometimes a faint black border inside of that; the greater and median wing coverts have a terminal buff and a subterminal black border; the tail feathers are edged with buff and the under parts are more or less suffused with pale buff. Probably the buff is brighter and deeper in fresh plumage and it fades out to white before this plumage is molted.

A postjuvenal molt takes place, between September and December, of the body plumage, some scapulars and some wing coverts. This produces the first winter plumage, which is like that of the adult, except for the retained juvenal scapulars and wing coverts. I have seen birds in this plumage as early as September 30. A partial prenuptial molt, similar to that of the adult, produces during the spring a first nuptial plumage in which young birds can be distinguished from adults by varying amounts of retained winter feathers. At the next complete molt, the first postnuptial young birds assume the fully adult winter plumage.

Adults have a partial prenuptial molt between February and June, involving most of the body plumage, but not all of the scapulars, wing coverts, and tertials. There is much individual variation in the time of this molt. I have seen birds in full nuptial plumage as early as March 21 and in full winter plumage as late as May 13. The complete postnuptial molt begins in July with the body molt, which is usually completed before October. I have seen adults in full nuptial plumage as late as September 6. The red-breasted birds reported by Mr. Mackay (1893) as shot on Cape Cod in December and February must have been exceptional cases of delayed or omitted molt; the February birds may have been cases of early spring molt.

Food.—Doctor Ekblaw says:

Their food when they first come to the North is scarce, and when the weather is unduly unfavorable they are hard put to it to find enough to live. They probe about the grasses and sedges on the wet moors and along the swales and pools, and sometimes wade breast deep into the water to pick out the small but abundant life that swarms in some of the pools, mostly crustacea and larvae. The upper mandible is relatively soft and pliant. Sometimes they search the tide pools left at low water, or poke about the rocks and gravel along shore.

Other Arctic explorers have referred to the scanty food of the knot in the north; H. Chichester Hart (1880) says that "of a number of knots' stomachs examined, only one contained any food; this consisted of two caterpillars, one bee, and pieces of an Alga;" Colonel Feilden (1879) saw knots "feeding eagerly on the buds of Saxifraga oppositifolia;" Mr. Manniche (1910) "saw them running on the snow eagerly occupied in picking up the seed of Carex and Lazula tufts, the ends of which here and there appeared over the snow." Later on, when the ponds and marshes are teeming with animal life, they have plenty of food.

With us, on migrations, the knots feed mainly on the sandy and stony beaches, moving deliberately along in compact groups close to the water's edge, probing in the sand for minute mollusks and small crustaceans. On the sandy beaches on the west coast of Florida, the wet sand is filled with minute shellfish known as Coquinas, on which the knots seemed to be feeding. They also feed to some extent on the mud flats and sand flats with the black-bellied plover, where they find marine insects and their larvae. Mr. Mackay (1893) says "they also eat the larvae of one of the cutworms (Noctuidae) which they obtain on the marshes," some of which he has found in their throats when shot. Edward H. Forbush (1912) says: "They are fond of the spawn of the horsefoot crab, which, often in company with the turnstone, they dig out of the sand, sometimes fighting the former birds before they can claim their share." W. L. McAtee (1911) says that they also feed on grasshoppers and on marine worms of the genus Nereis.

Behavior.—The knots fly swiftly in compact flocks, twisting and turning in unison like the smaller sandpipers, for which they might easily be mistaken at a distance. On the ground they are rather deliberate in their movements, generally grouped in compact bunches and all moving along together; they are less likely to scatter over their feeding grounds than other waders. When resting on the high beaches between tides they stand quietly in close groups, all facing the wind; their grey plumage renders them quite inconspicuous at such times. F. H. Allen tells me that he has seen half a dozen of them hopping about on one leg in shallow water; this may be a sort of game, frequently indulged in by many small waders.

Mr. Manniche (1910) says:

Peculiar to this species is its restless character. The resident couples would every day make long excursions, not only to seek food, but probably also for pleasure. Their great power of flight makes them able to do this without difficulty. In rapid high flight they are now here and now there. I often saw them set out in a northern direction high over the summits of the mountains or in a southern far out over the ice in the firths, to return after a short while.

In the breeding season the male is pugnacious and quarrelsome against birds of its own kin as well as against other small birds, which appear within his domain. Uttering a short cry he will fly up and pursue the intruder in the most violent manner and often he would follow it so far away, that I could not see them, even through my field glass. He would soon return, and having—triumphantly fluting—circled around several times, go down to his mate. I have seen the knot pursue even skuas.

Mr. Mackay (1893) writes:

On the ground they are sluggish and not given to moving about much; unless very much harassed they are not nearly so vigilant as their companions, the black-bellied plover, but when they have become shy they are exceedingly wary and always on the alert for danger. When the incoming tide drives the knots from the flats they seek the marshes or some shoal which is sufficiently elevated to remain uncovered during high water; they also frequent the crest of the beaches. Here they generally remain quiet until the tide has fallen sufficiently to permit them to return again to the flats to feed. When on the marshes during high water they occupy some of the time in feeding, showing they are by no means dependent on the flats for all their food. They associate and mingle freely with the turnstone (Arenaria interpres), black-bellied plover (Charadrius squatarola), and red-backed sandpiper (Tringa alpina pacifica) as with their own kind, and apparently evince the same friendship toward the two former birds as prevails between the American golden plover (Charadrius dominicus) and the Eskimo curlew (Numenius borealis). I have heard of but one instance (at Revere, Mass., during a storm) of the knot being noted in the same flock with adult American golden plover. At this time there were three, one of which was shot. I have heard, however, of both adult and young knots mingling with young American golden plover, or "pale-bellies," as they are locally called.

Voice.—The same writer says:

They make two notes. One is soft, of two articulations, and sounds like the word "Wah-quoit" (by which name it is sometimes known on Cape Cod); although uttered low, it can be heard quite a distance. This note is particularly noticeable when flocks are coming to the decoys; it has a faint rolling sound similar to the note of the American golden plover (Charadrius dominicus) under the same conditions, only more subdued and faint. The other is a single note resembling a little honk. These birds will also respond to the note of the black-bellied plover (Charadrius squatarola) as readily as to their own when it is given with a whistle.

Roland C. Ross (1924) gives the following graphic description of the croaking note:

The common call is a low-pitched, hoarse "skeuk," the lowest and heaviest voice on the flats. It struck me as a dull croak, coming pretty regularly from the feeding birds, and especially strong when they took wing. A lone bird in joining the flock would croak his coming. The sound can be imitated in quality and form but in a higher pitch. Make the facial contortions necessary to "cluck" to a horse, but don't "cluck"; make it "skeuk," and locate it in the wisdom teeth on the side being dislocated. Pitch it low; it will still be two tones too high. At a distance the sucking or harsh quality is lost. A softer, more musical rendition is given when the birds are well bunched and feeding, which came to my ear as "chook."

John T. Nichols (1920) says: "The flight note of the knot is a low-pitched whistle, frequently in two parts, with a peculiar lisp or buzz in it, tlu tlu."

Doctor Ekblaw describes the notes heard on the breeding grounds as follows:

Four distinct calls characterize the mating and nesting season. Most common are two piercingly shrill calls uttered generally on the wing, one of them resembling wah-quoi and the other wee-a-whit, easily distinguished, but somewhat alike. The long-drawn-out coo-a-hee, or coo-hee, is a soft, flutelike call also given in flight, but nearly always back among the hills, far from the shore where the nests are hidden. This flutelike call appears to be a signal or recognition call. The fourth call is a sharp, querulous whit, whit, whit, almost like a cluck, often given singly, but more often many times repeated. When their nesting haunts are invaded or their feeding grounds disturbed this call expresses their displeasure.

Field marks.—In spring plumage the knot is easily recognized by its reddish breast, which, however, is not as conspicuous as might be expected. In immature and winter plumage the best character is the absence of any conspicuous field mark. Even in flight it seems to be a plain gray bird; the rump and tail appear but little lighter than the rest of the upper parts and the faint white line in the wings is hardly noticeable. Its larger size will hardly distinguish it from the smaller sandpipers except by direct comparison. Its short, greenish yellow legs and its prominent bill might help one to recognize it under favorable circumstances.

Fall.—Doctor Ekblaw says:

As soon as the water begins to grow cold, when insect and other small life becomes scarce, and when the midnight sun approaches the horizon, the knots abandon the northland, plump and strong from their summer stay in the Arctic, and wend their way to the southland. Not even a belated straggler can be found after August 1.

The adults begin to arrive on Cape Cod about the middle of July; the height of their abundance comes about the first week in August and most of them disappear during that month, although Mr. Mackay (1893) has recorded them in October, December, and February. The young birds begin to arrive there about August 20, but the main flight of "graybacks," as the young are called on this coast, comes along in September and early October, stragglers sometimes lingering into November. When with us, knots frequent the beaches; although they are found on both sandy and stony beaches, I have sometimes thought that they preferred the pebbly beaches, feeding close to the water line, where they are often surprisingly invisible among the variously colored stones. They are not shy, as a rule, and generally allow a close approach before they fly off swiftly, uttering their characteristic notes. At high tide, when their feeding grounds are covered, they resort to the high beaches to rest, preen their plumage, and sleep.

By July 20 the first birds have reached South Carolina, where some remain until October 15. We saw what was probably the last of the migration on the west coast of Florida in 1924. The knots were there when we arrived on November 11. During a northerly gale and after a heavy rain on the 21st I saw several small flocks on the high and dry sand of an exposed beach, huddled together in compact bunches and reluctant to move. The last birds were seen on the 26th.

In the interior the knot seems to be even rarer in the fall than in the spring, but on the Pacific coast the reverse seems to be the case. It is regarded as rather rare in Alaska, but F. S. Hersey collected a small series for me at St. Michael on August 4 and 8, 1915, and H. B. Conover took two at Golovin Bay on August 14, 1924. D. E. Brown's notes record them at Grays Harbor, Washington, from August 21 to November 2, 1917.

Game.—Although no longer on the game-bird list, the knot is a good game bird. It flies in compact flocks, comes well to the decoys when attracted by the whistle of an experienced caller, flies rather swiftly, and makes a good table bird, for it is of good size and usually fat. It was always included in the list of what we used to call "big birds." On Cape Cod knots in all plumages are called "redbreasts" by the gunners, though the name "grayback" is often applied to the young birds. Mr. Mackay (1893) says:

When shy and coming to decoys to alight, they barely touch their feet to the sand before they discover their mistake and are off in an instant. They fly quickly and closely together and, when coming to decoys, usually pass by them down wind, most of the flock whistling, then suddenly wheeling with heads to the wind, and up to the decoys. At such times many are killed at one discharge.

Dr. L. C. Sanford (1903) writes:

One of my pleasant recollections of shore-bird shooting is associated with this bird. I give the date with some hesitation, for it was May 10, near Cobb Island. During several days previous redbreast had been flying, but the tides were not suitable, and it was useless to try for them. Here the flight is along the outer beach, at the edge of the surf, the birds stopping to feed on the mud flats exposed by the falling tide. The sun was not up and the water still high as we set the decoys off one of the points along the beach, close to the breaking waves; the blind was of seaweed, and before we were settled the first flock passed by high up, but a pair of birds dropped out of it and hovered in front of us; another minute and 10 more swung in. Flock after flock, from a few birds to hundreds, passed in the same line, coming into sight over the ocean, striking the beach and following its edge—now low just over the surf, now high up—the first light of sunrise giving them a black appearance. The undulating character of the flight was unmistakable and was in evidence when the dark line first appeared—now distinct on the horizon, presently out of sight in the waves, all of a sudden rising up over the decoys to circle in. Our chance lasted only a few minutes, for when the flat was exposed the birds all passed by out of range; occasionally we whistled in an odd one, but the flocks shied off. As we carried back our basket of birds it did not occur to us that the experience of that morning would be our last flight of redbreast, but it was.

DISTRIBUTION

Breeding range.—The breeding range of the knot in North America is imperfectly known, but appears to extend north to Franklin (Winter Harbor, Victoria Land, and Goose Fiord), and Grinnell Land (Fort Conger). East to Greenland (Floeberg Beach, Cape Sheridan, North Star Bay, Tuctoo Valley, Bowdoin Bay, and Disco Bay). South to southwestern Greenland (Disco Bay) and southern Franklin (Igloolik, Winter Island, and Cambridge Bay). West to Franklin (Cambridge Bay and Winter Harbor). Birds breeding in northeast Greenland may be the European form.

It has also been detected in summer in Alaska at Point Barrow, Point Hope, St. Michael, and other localities, where it may possibly breed.

Winter range.—Not well known but in the Western Hemisphere, seemingly most of South America, from Patagonia (Tierra del Fuego) and Argentina (Barracus al Sud and Cape San Antonio) on the south, Peru (Santa Luzia and probably Tumbez) on the west, Brazil (Iguape) on the east, to possibly Jamaica, Barbados, rarely Louisiana (Vermilion Bay), and Florida (St. Marks).

Spring migration.—Early dates of spring arrival on the Atlantic coast are: South Carolina, Frogmore, April 8, and Egg Bank, April 16; North Carolina, Pea and Brodie Islands, April 18; Virginia, Locustville, April 10; New Jersey, Absecon Bay, April 21; New York, Long Beach, Long Island, April 29, and Canandaigua Lake, May 23; Connecticut, Norwalk, May 24, Fairfield, May 29, and Westport, May 30; Massachusetts, Tuckernuck Island, May 11, Franklin, Igloolik, June 14; and Greenland, Jacobshaven, June 3, and Cape Union, June 5.

On the Pacific coast, early dates are: California, Alameda, April 25; Washington, Destruction Island Light, May 6, and Willapa Harbor, May 11 [once at Dungeness, on February 25, 1915 (Cantwell)]; British Colombia, Fort Simpson, May 13; and Alaska, Nulato, May 10, Craig, May 13, Admiralty Island, May 14, St. Michael, May 29, and Point Barrow, May 30.

Late dates of spring departure are: South Carolina, near Charleston, June 5; Virginia, Cape Charles, June 10, Cobb Island, June 25, and Wallop's Island, June 27; New Jersey, Cape May County, June 3, and Elizabeth, June 11; New York, Amityville, May 31, and Geneva, June 8; and Massachusetts, Cape Cod, June 13, Harvard, June 19, Marthas Vineyard, June 24, and Monomoy Island, June 28.

Fall migration.—Early dates of arrival in fall migration are: Washington, Lake Oxette, July 12; California, Alameda, August 1, Monterey, August 7, and Santa Barbara, August 21; Massachusetts, Cape Cod, July 15, Marthas Vineyard, July 24, Dennis, July 27, and Monomoy Island, July 30; Rhode Island, Newport, August 1; Connecticut, Saybrook, August 21; New York, East Hampton, July 27, Dutchess County, July 30, Rockaway, August 12, Montauk Point Light, August 14, And Amityville, August 23; New Jersey, Tuckerton, July 3; Virginia, Wallops Island, August 12; North Carolina, Pea and Brodie Islands, July 8; South Carolina, near Charleston, July 20; Florida, Marco, July 1, and Lesser Antilles, Barbados, September 6.

Late dates of fall departure are: Alaska, St. Michael, August 14, Point Barrow, August 17, and Homer, August 23; Washington, Grays Harbor, November 2; California, Anaheim Landing, October 3, and San Diego, October 9; Greenland, Discovery Bay, August 25; Franklin, Winter Island, August 17; Prince Edward Island, Alexandra, September 24; Quebec, Godbout, August 7, Henley Harbor, August 23, and Old Fort Island, September 30; Massachusetts, Marthas Vineyard, October 8, and Monomoy Island, October 28; Rhode Island, South Auburn, September 3, and Newport, September 14; Connecticut, Saybrook, September 25; New York, Shinnecock Bay, September 16, Freeport, September 26, Penn Yan, October 15, and Amityville, October 16; Virginia, Wallops Island, September 29; North Carolina, Church's Island, September 30; South Carolina, near Charleston, October 15; Georgia, Savannah, September 24; and Lesser Antilles, Barbados, December 27.

Casual records.—The knot has on numerous occasions been detected in the Central or Western States or other points outside of its normal range. Among these are Vera Cruz, Rivera, April 13, 1904; Texas, Corpus Christi, July 1 to 10, 1887; Kansas, Hamilton, September 19, 1911, and Lawrence, April 17, 1871; Nebraska, Omaha, September 30, 1893, and Lincoln, May 16, 1896, and August 27, 1896; Indiana, near Millers, August 24, 1896; Minnesota, Lanesboro, September 7, 1885; and Montana, Lake Bowdoin, October 4, 1915; Ohio, Sandusky River, spring of 1894, and Licking Reservoir, May 27, 1878; Ontario (occasionally common in spring), Point Pelee, September 15, 1906, and May 30, 1907, and Ottawa, June 4, 1890; Michigan, Port Austin, September 4, 1899, Benton Harbor, June 23, 1904, Forestville, June 20, 1903, Charity Island, September 1, 1910, and Oak Point, August 20-21, 1908; and Alberta, Beaverhill Lake, May 19-23, 1924.

Egg dates.—Greenland: 3 records, June 22 and 30, and July 9. Victoria Land: 3 records, July 1, 9, and 22. Grinnell Land: 2 records, June 26 and 27.

CALIDRIS TENUIROSTRIS (Horsfield)
EASTERN ASIATIC KNOT

The only North American record for this little known Asiatic species was established by Alfred M. Bailey (1925), when he captured a single specimen in northwestern Alaska on May 28, 1922. He says:

One specimen of this species, an adult male in light plumage, was taken at Cape Prince of Wales on May 28. At this date the tundra was still covered with snow, but the higher benches of the cape were becoming bare. The first arrivals of many species were just making their appearance, using these high exposed spots as resting places. Among these numerous migrants I took this one straggler. It was so tame I collected it with my .32 aux.

It is larger than our knot and is also known as the Japanese knot. Seebohm (1888) says:

It is the only Tringa with white on the upper tail coverts which has a straight bill more than an inch and a half long. In summer plumage it has no chestnut on the under parts, and the chestnut on the upper parts is principally confined to the scapulars. In winter plumage the two knots scarcely differ except in size. It is very closely allied to the common knot.

The breeding grounds of the Japanese knot are unknown, but Middendorff observed it during the whole summer on the southern shores of the Sea of Okhotsk, though he obtained no evidence of its nesting there. It has occurred on migration in the valley of the Ussuri, on the coasts of Japan and China, and on most of the islands of the Malay Archipelago. It winters on the coast of Australia, has occurred on the Andaman Islands, and in considerable numbers on the coast of Scinde.

ARQUATELLA MARITIMA (Brünnich)
PURPLE SANDPIPER

HABITS

This hardy northern bird has well been called "winter snipe" and "rock snipe," for it is known to us only as a winter visitor on rocky shores. Although it does not breed quite as far north as some species, it migrates for a shorter distance and winters farther north than any other wader; in fact, the southern limit of its winter range is far north of the normal winter range of any other. A. L. V. Manniche (1910) saw only three purple sandpipers during three seasons in northeastern Greenland, and the Crockerland expedition saw only one in northwestern Greenland in four years. Both expeditions were probably north of its normal breeding range.

Spring.—As soon as spring asserts itself the purple sandpipers begin to desert their main winter range on the coast of New England, some leaving in March and only a very few stragglers lingering into May. On May 29, 1909, we saw a few late migrants on the south coast of Labrador, where I secured one in full nuptial plumage. Ludwig Kumlien (1879) says that the purple sandpiper is the first wader to arrive in the spring at Cumberland Sound.

The 4th of June Is the earliest date I met them at Annanactook; this was during a heavy snowstorm, and the earliest date possible that they could have found any of the rocks bare at low tide. The flock lit on the top of one of the small islands in the harbor and sheltered themselves from the storm by creeping behind and underneath ledges of rocks; they then huddled together like a flock of quails in winter. I have often noticed the same habit with them in late autumn, while they were waiting for low tide.

Courtship.—The same writer refers to a courtship performance, as follows:

As the breeding season approaches the males have a peculiar cry, resembling somewhat that of Actiturus bartramius, but lower and not so prolonged. When this note is uttered they assume a very dignified strut, and often raise the wings up over the back and slowly fold them again, like the upland plover.

Aubyn Trevor-Battye (1897) says:

Like all sandpipers, they do much of their courtship on the wing, chasing one another in circles with rapid turns and shifts. On the ground I have seen the male bird approach the female with trailing wings, arched back, and head low down, occasionally hopping, like a courting pigeon.

This species seems to be rather rare in Baffin Land. I have two sets of eggs, given to me by Capt. Donald B. MacMillan, collected with the parent bird at Cape Dorset. J. Dewey Soper collected a female there, with enlarged ovaries, on June 8; but he saw only three birds during "the spring and summer of 1926 along the south coast of Baffin Island." He says in his notes:

The first sandpiper observed by me the following spring was of this species, a solitary male collected on June 2, 1925, at Nettilling Lake. The lakes were still ice-bound and the land mostly covered with snow, but here and there were small open pools. Along the border of one of these the bird was feeding in the thin layer of thawed mud among the grassy hummocks. On June 11, in the same locality near the Takuirbing River, several were observed and collected. When flushed they emit a grating ick-ick-ick and when not too hard pressed will often light again a few yards away. They flush sluggishly, and when not come upon too abruptly will frequently elevate the wings leisurely above the back, as though stretching them before taking flight. On the whole, at this time, they were comparatively fearless and permitted close approach. Only one was observed giving a vocal performance on the wing. It rose slowly from the ground to a height of 15 or 20 feet and leisurely flying over the tundra gave a series of low, musical staccato notes resembling to-wit-to-wit-to-wit-to-wit, etc. The performance continues unbrokenly while the bird remains in the air over a distance of 25 or 30 yards.

Nesting.—Rev. Henry H. Slater (1898) says:

In the extreme north the nest is often quite close to the sea, little above high-water mark. But in Iceland and at the southern borders of its breeding range generally the purple sandpiper usually nests on the fells. My first nest, from which I shot the female mentioned above, was near the top of a high ridge in north Iceland, nearly 1,600 feet above sea level, on a small bare patch of recently uncovered ground amongst snow fields; it was a slight hollow in a withered tuft of Dryas octopetala, and rather a substantial nest for a wader, consisting of a good handful of leaves of Dryas and Salix lanata, a little short grass, two white ptarmigan's feathers and a few of the parents'.

W. C. Hewitson (1856) quotes Mr. Wolley as saying that in the Faeroes, "it breeds sparingly on the very tops of high mountains, where I found its young at the end of June still unable to fly."

Messrs. E. Evans and W. Sturge (1859) found the purple sandpiper breeding in Spitsbergen; they say:

The purple sandpiper (Tringa maritina, Brünn.) was very abundant in Coal Bay (on the south side of Ice Sound, so named on account of a small quantity of poor coal being found there), and we found four of their nests on the high field. Beautiful little nests they were, deep in the ground, and lined with stalks of grass and leaves of the dwarf birch (Betula nana, L.), containing mostly four eggs of an olive green, handsomely mottled with purplish brown, chiefly at the larger end. We watched this elegant little bird—the only one of the Grallatores we saw—with much interest as it waded into some pool of snow water or ran along the shingle, every now and then raising its wings over its back and exhibiting the delicate tint of the under side, at the same time uttering its loud shrill whistle.

No recent accounts of the nesting habits of this species seem to have been published and the data on eggs in collections seem to be rather scanty. I have never found a nest myself. Both sexes are said to incubate the eggs and share in the care of the young. The period of incubation is over 20 days.

Eggs.—A very good description of the eggs is given by Seebohm (1884) as follows:

The eggs of the purple sandpiper are four in number and remarkably handsome. They vary in ground color from pale olive to pale buffish brown, boldly mottled, blotched, and streaked with reddish brown and very dark blackish brown. On some eggs the blotches are large, and chiefly distributed in an oblique direction round the large end; on others they are more evenly distributed over the entire surface; and on many a few very dark scratches, spots, or streaks are scattered here and there amongst the brown markings. The underlying markings are numerous and conspicuous, and are pale violet gray or grayish brown in color.

Frank Poynting's (1895) colored plate of 12 selected eggs well illustrates the great variation in the beautiful eggs of this species. There are two distinct types of ground color, green and buff. In the green types the colors vary from "yellowish glaucous" to a light shade of "grape green"; and in the buff types from "cream buff" to "dark olive buff." They are sometimes evenly, but more often irregularly, spotted and blotched with various shades of brown, "sepia," "bister," and "snuff brown," sometimes boldly marked with "chocolate" and "burnt umber" and sometimes with great splashes of "vinaceous brown" overlaid with blotches of "chestnut brown" and "bay," a handsome combination. The measurements of 100 eggs, supplied by Rev. F. C. R. Jourdain, average 37.3 by 26.5 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 40 by 28, 35.1 by 26.6 and 37.3 by 24.8 millimeters.

Plumages.—The nestling is described in Witherby's Handbook (1920) as follows:

Fore part of crown warm buff; black-brown median line from base of upper mandible to crown; crown and upper parts velvety black-brown, down with numerous cream and warm buff tips; nape light buff, down with sooty-brown bases; from base of upper mandible above eye to nape a black-brown streak, another short one from base of lower mandible, ear coverts as crown; cheeks warm or light buff, down with black-brown tips; remaining under parts grayish white, down sooty brown toward base.

The juvenal plumage is much like that of the summer adult, except that the feathers of the crown are tipped with creamy white, as are also the central tail feathers; the feathers of the mantle and scapulars are edged with buffy white; and the wing coverts and tertials are broadly edged with the same color or tipped with pale pinkish buff. The juvenal body plumage is usually molted before the birds reach us on migration, when young birds, in first winter plumage, can be recognized by the broad white edgings of the median coverts and by a few retained scapulars and tertials. Some of these juvenal feathers are retained through the next, the partial prenuptial molt. Subsequent molts and plumages are as in the adult.

Adults have a complete postnuptial molt between August and November and a partial prenuptial molt from January to May; this latter involves most of the body plumage, but not all of the scapulars, back, rump, or upper tail coverts.

Food.—The favorite feeding places of purple sandpipers are the wave-washed rocky shores of islands or promontories along the seashore, with a decided preference for islands. Here, where the rocks are fringed with rockweed, waving in the restless waves, or covered with barnacles and various slimy products of the sea, these sure-footed little birds are quite at home on the slippery rocks, as they glean abundant food at the water's edge and skillfully avoid being washed away. Yarrell (1871) says that—

it may be seen busily employed turning over stones and searching among seaweed for the smaller shrimps and sandhoppers which are to be found there, and it also feeds on young crabs, marine insects, and the soft bodies of animals inhabiting small shells.

Witherby's Handbook (1920) gives its food as—

varied, including insects: coleoptera (Otiorhynchus), diptera (larvae of Chironomus), also spiders, Thysanura (or Collembola), annelida and crustacea (Amphipoda, Isopoda, Orchestia, Idotea, Gammarus, and Podocerus) as well as mollusca (Mytilus, Littorina, Purpura, etc.). Vegetable matter is also eaten including algae, grasses, moss, buds, and leaves of phanerogams and remains of cryptogams. Seeds of Cochlearia have been identified and small fish (Gobius) nearly 1 inch long, as well as ova of lumpsucker.

Behavior.—The flight of the purple sandpiper suggests at times that of the spotted sandpiper, for when disturbed singly along the shore it is apt to fly out over the water with rapid downward wing strokes and, describing a large semicircle, return to the shore some distance ahead. When flying in a flock the birds are often closely bunched, the whole flock wheeling and turning in unison, showing alternately their dark bodies and their white bellies, in true sandpiper fashion. As a rule they do not make very long flights or fly very high. Their migrations are short and deliberate. They are rather sedentary birds and can generally be found in certain favorite localities all winter and year after year. But, as they show a decided preference for the outer sides of surf-swept ledges, they are not often seen from the land. They can swim almost as well as phalaropes and in calm weather they will often alight on half submerged seaweed or on the surface of the water. Dr. Charles W. Townsend (1905), who watched a flock on an island off Cape Ann, describes their actions as follows:

They finally alighted on a steeply sloping rock close to the water's edge on the northeastern point of the island so that they could be watched with binoculars and telescope from the shore. Fifty-eight birds were in sight and there were fully half as many more on the other side of the rock, hidden from view, except when they jumped up from time to time. The flock must have numbered 75. The tide was high and the birds were evidently trying to kill time until low water, when they could gather their food from the seaweed covered rocks. Most of them were resting, squatting on the rock with head to the wind, their dark purplish-gray backs contrasting strongly with their white bellies. Others were slowly raising their wings over their backs, showing the white under surfaces. Again they were chasing each other, making the sleepy ones jump suddenly, or running up the rock to escape an unusually high wave, fluttering with their wings to help themselves. From time to time they were joined by bunches of from 5 to 10 others.

Voice.—This species is a rather silent bird, but John T. Nichols says in his notes: "When about to take wing a flock of purple sandpipers is rather noisy, keeping up a swallowlike chatter, each single-syllabled note suggestive of the flip of the tree swallow and of the kip of the sanderling."

Field marks.—A sandpiper seen on a rocky shore in New England in winter is likely to be a purple sandpiper. Mr. Nichols suggests the following field characters:

The purple sandpiper is a stockily built bird, which stands low and has a moderately long bill. Its breast and upper parts of a dark purplish gray match admirably the rocks on which it lives, and although darker are not very different in tone from the coloring of the red-backed sandpiper in fall, with which species it might possibly be confused. Both have a white line in the wing shown in flight, but in the purple sandpiper this broadens to a more conspicuous wedge of white backward on the inner secondaries and extends across the bases of the primaries as narrow edging to their coverts, rather than turning the bend of the wing into the primaries. The best field character is the color of legs and feet, which are of a dull but strong yellow, appreciable at a considerable distance. The basal third of the bill is of the same, but tinged with orange.

Fall.—The fall migration of the purple sandpiper is a gradual southward movement along the Atlantic coast. It disappears from its breeding grounds early in September, but the main flight does not reach New England until November or December. What few stragglers have been seen on the Great Lakes were probably migrants from Hudson Bay. E. W. Hadeler writes to me that he observed one on the shore of Lake Erie, Painesville, Ohio, from October 22 to November 12, 1916, and again from October 24 to November 11, 1922. It is interesting to note the uniformity of the dates and the fact that the species was seen always on a stone breakwater, apparently feeding exclusively on the water-washed stones.

Winter.—The purple sandpiper is the "winter snipe" of the New England coast, where flocks of from 25 to 75 or more may be found regularly on certain outlying rocky ledges. Here they seek shelter among the rocks from the flying spray and from the wintry blasts; and here they find their food washed up by the waves or hidden in the half floating beds of rockweed. On December 10, 1913, while we were shooting eiders on one of the outer ledges in Jericho Bay, Maine, a flock of about 50 of these hardy little birds seemed out of place in our rough surroundings. It was a cold, blustering day; the surf was breaking over the rocks and the sea was white with combing breakers; even the hardy sea ducks sought the shelter of the ledges; but these plump little birds seemed quite happy and contented as they huddled together in a compact flock on the slippery rocks. They were very tame and confiding; even the reports of our guns served only to make them circle out around the ledge a few times and then return to its shelter. Evidently this was their winter home. We did not have the heart to shoot any of them.

Mr. Nichols tells me that "very occasionally in winter, early spring or late fall, one finds single birds on the sandy beaches of New York or New Jersey south of the rocks."

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—Europe, Asia, and northeastern North America.

Breeding range.—In the Old World the purple sandpiper breeds in the Arctic regions from Iceland, Norway, and Spitsbergen east to Nova Zembla and the Taimyr Peninsula. In North America the breeding range extends north to Franklin (Igloolik); and Greenland (Hare Island, and Shannon Islands). East to Greenland (Shannon Islands and Ivimiut). South to Greenland (Ivimiut and Ivigtut); and Franklin (southern Baffin Island, Cumberland Sound, and Winter Island). West to Franklin (Winter Island and Igloolik). It has been detected in summer still farther north; Franklin (Mercy Bay, Fury Point, Boothia Felix, and Possession Bay); and Greenland (Bowdoin Bay, Thank God Harbor, North Star Bay, and Fort Conger).

Winter range.—The purple sandpiper winters farther north than any other shore bird. North and east to southern Greenland (Ivigtut); eastern Nova Scotia (St. Peter's Island); Massachusetts (Rockport, Westport, and Boston); Rhode Island (Cormorant Rock); Connecticut (Saybrook and Faulkner Island); and rarely New York (Gull Island, Montauk, and Amityville). South to New York (Amityville). West to New York (Amityville); Connecticut (New Haven); Maine (Cumberland County, Matinicus Island, and Washington County); New Brunswick (Grand Manan and the Bay of Fundy); Prince Edward Island; and southern Greenland (Ivigtut).

Spring migration.—Early dates of spring arrival are: Franklin, Annanactook, June 4, Winter Island, June 10, Cambridge Bay, June 10, and Igloolik, June 14; Greenland, about 72° north latitude, May 29; and Baffin Island, Cape Dorset, May 30.

Late dates of spring departure are: New York, Sag Harbor, April 18, and Long Beach, May 4, Rhode Island, Sachuest Point, May 15; Massachusetts, Dennis, May 5; and Quebec, Prince of Wales Sound, May 27, Quatachoo, May 29, and Mingan Islands, May 29.

Fall migration.—Early dates of fall arrival are Quebec, Bras d'Or, August 4; New Brunswick, Grand Manan, August 13; Ontario, Toronto, October 27, Ottawa, October 29, and Hamilton, October 31; Maine, Metinic Green Island, August 6, Saddleback Ledge, August 19; Massachusetts, Cape Cod, September 6, Chatham, September 8, and Nahant, October 13; Rhode Island, Sachuest Point, September 13; and New York, Montauk, November 1, Orient, November 1, and Long Beach, November 2.

Late dates of fall departure are: Greenland, Possession Bay, September 1, and Thank God Harbor, September 3; Mackenzie, Great Bear Lake, September 16; and Franklin, Wellington Channel, August 28, Kingwah Fjord, September 6, Cumberland Gulf, September 13, and Pangnirtung Fjord, October 21.

Casual records.—The purple sandpiper has been reported as seen at the entrance to St. George Harbor, Bermuda, and there are a few records for the south Atlantic coast and the interior, among which are: New Jersey, Delaware Bay (specimen in British Museum), Beach Haven, October 31, 1896, and one found dead at the Absecon Lighthouse; Georgia, one in the Sennett collection taken, March 5, 1874; Florida, Key Biscayne, October 29, 1857, and Gordan's Pass, November 1, 1886; Missouri, Boonville, between April 16 and May 31, 1854; Illinois, near Chicago, November 7, 1871; Ohio, Sandusky, November 19, 1925, and Painesville, October 22, 1916, and October 24, 1922; and Wisconsin, Door County, May, 1881.

Egg dates.—Greenland: 18 records, May 16 to June 30; 9 records, June 1 to 19. Iceland: 6 records, May 21 to June 17. Baffin Island; 2 records, July 21 and 28.

ARQUATELLA PTILOCNEMIS PTILOCNEMIS (Coues)
PRIBILOF SANDPIPER

HABITS

As explained under the Aleutian sandpiper, this bird is probably not a subspecies of the purple sandpiper; so the name maritima can not be used for either ptilocnemis or couesi. I have therefore thought it best to follow Ridgway (1919) in the use of his names for the Pribilof and Aleutian sandpipers, rather than use the Check List names.

The Pribilof sandpiper has the most restricted distribution of any North American sandpiper. In summer it is confined to the chilly and foggy uplands of the Pribilof Islands, the equally cool, damp lowlands of St. Matthew Island, Hall Island, and perhaps St. Lawrence Island, all in Bering Sea. And its known migration range is limited to a few localities on the mainland of Alaska and in the Aleutian Islands, where it probably winters. It may breed more extensively on St. Lawrence Island than it is now known to do, but it has not yet been found breeding anywhere on the mainland. G. Dallas Hanna (1921) says:

I strongly suspect that the birds have some other extensive breeding ground than St. George, St. Paul, and St. Matthew Islands, because in September and October large flocks come to the two former islands; these appear to contain many more individuals than are in existence on all three. Whether St. Lawrence Island supplies the extra number or not remains for future determination. The winter range of the species is practically unknown, the only records being from Portage Bay, southeast Alaska, and Lynn Canal, between Alaska and British Columbia. The appearance of the birds at the former locality in flocks in spring (if identifications were correct) indicates that they wintered farther south, probably on Vancouver and other islands of British Columbia. They could hardly have come from beyond these localities and have remained undiscovered.

Spring.—The same writer says:

Spring migration takes place the latter part of April and the first half of May. My earliest record for St. Paul Island is April 15 (1915) when a flock appeared at Northeast Point. The height of migration is a little later than that date and may usually be expected from the 1st to the 15th of May. Birds are almost invariably paired upon arrival. Very few spring flocks have been seen on the Pribilofs, and they do not tarry by the beaches, but go directly to the upland nesting sites. It seems to be uncommon for more than the resident population to land upon an island in spring. The birds seem to go directly to the chosen breeding grounds, wherever they may be. This fact is of wide application among the northern shore birds. Only rare stragglers of such species as golden plovers, turnstones, and pectoral and sharp-tailed sandpipers stop at the Pribilofs on their way north, but large numbers of some of them come in fall.

Courtship.—Dr. E. W. Nelson (1887) writes:

The male of the pair seen by me on St. Lawrence Island in June kept flying up some 10 or 15 yards, its wings beating with a rapid vibrating or tremulous motion, while the bird thus poised trilled forth a clear, rather musical and liquid but hard, whistling note, which is probably the same note which Elliott likens to the trill of the tree frog. The short song ended, the musician glides to the ground upon stiffened wings and resumes his feeding or stands silently for a time on a projecting rock or knoll.

Nesting.—We found Pribilof sandpipers very common in July on the low tundra at the south end of St. Matthew Island, where they were evidently breeding just back of the beaches. They were also common in the interior at the north end of this island and on the highlands of Hall Island. We collected a few specimens of the birds, but had no time to hunt for nests. We are indebted to Mr. Hanna (1921) for his excellent account of the nesting habits of this bird, from which I quote as follows:

On St. George Island the high upland tundra has been chosen for breeding ground. Here, among the reindeer "mosses" and light gray, lichen-covered rocks the sandpipers reign supreme in the fog. Some speculating may be indulged in to find a reason for so unusual a choice of locality. Elevations up to 500 feet are sought. Perhaps they shun the seacoasts on account of the presence there of large numbers of foxes. During all history this has been a greater fox island than either St. Paul or St. Matthew. On the latter island in June and July the birds may be found in large numbers around and back of the driftwood piles. If it were not for this fact being known, we might suspect that on St. George the light gray tundra was selected for protective purposes, the birds themselves being distinguished chiefly by their light colors. St. Paul Island, for some unaccountable reason, is not chosen as a breeding ground except by a very few pairs. In 1919 not over a dozen were found during the entire nesting season, when almost all of the available areas were seen.

On the breeding grounds of St. George and St. Matthew the birds are very common, and from one to a dozen are in almost constant attendance upon the visitor. They sight him from afar and fly to meet him. Some bird will almost always try to lead him astray. If followed, it flies from knoll to knoll, often not more than 20 yards away. It remains in front of the visitor regardless of the direction he may take; whether toward or from the nest, makes no difference. After several minutes of this a sudden flight, with the familiar "song," is taken to some distant hill and the searcher for a nest is left confused and confounded.

A search for the nest will exhaust the patience of any except the most persistent collector. Messrs. Compton and Partch have been more successful than anyone else in locating them, and all of us agree that when a bird flies to meet the visitor, as just described, it is a pure waste of time to watch or follow it. Every method known to us of locating nests by watching the actions of the parents has failed. We have located nests and then endeavored to establish rules for guidance with others, but no definite facts could be determined. It was finally agreed that it was useless to watch a bird under any circumstances more than 15 minutes. If the location of the nest is not disclosed in that time, it is safe to assume that the mate is on it, and it might be hours before the guard would go there. In the meantime it may fly half a mile away and forget to come back, even to tease the hopeful collector lying concealed in the mist and fog behind some cheerless rock. No definite range can be ascribed to any one pair of birds, because those off the nests mingle indiscriminately. Very often a bird will fly completely out of the range of vision in the fog.

The action of a bird leaving a nest is unmistakable, and can always be recognized, once it is learned. It is a quick, excited, jerky flight, very close to the ground, and the bird goes but a very few yards until it feigns injury in its endeavor to entice the intruder away. It will always flutter in front of a person, even though he walk directly toward the nest. When the bird is seen to fly, the eggs are even more inconspicuous and difficult to find unless the exact spot from which it flew be located. Compton thus flushed a bird which he knew had a nest, but he was at a loss to find it. At last he left his cane as nearly as possible where the nest should have been and repaired to a near-by rock to watch and wait. In a few minutes the bird returned to the eggs, which were located about a yard from the stick. When the bird is flushed from a nest it seldom happens that the other parent is near.

The nest is a mere depression about three and a half inches wide by two and a half inches deep. Most of the material is removed, but it is evidently packed down to a certain extent. No foreign material is carried at all. The nest is usually, but not necessarily, on some very slightly elevated ground and among the lichens called "reindeer moss." Some nests have been found where there was an admixture of Hypnum moss and again where the dwarf willows creep, rootlike, beneath the surface.

Eggs.—I can not do better than to quote again from Mr. Hanna (1921); he writes:

The normal set of eggs consists of four. A greater number has never been found, and a less number only when it was uncertain if the full set had been laid. As much as three days may intervene between egg laying, but usually the four are deposited on successive days. When one set of eggs is taken, another will be laid. But the same nest is not used the second time, the contentions of some natives to the contrary notwithstanding. A set of eggs found as late as July 24, 1917, certainly indicated that two may be laid in the same season on rare occasions. One set is the rule.

The color of the eggs is, as would be expected, somewhat variable. The lightest set examined in connection with this report has the ground color "greenish glaucous." From this there is perfect gradation through "court gray" and "light olive gray" to "deep olive buff" in the darkest set. Variation in any particular set is very slight. Spots are large and bold as a rule. They vary in size from 15 millimeters to less than one, and they are usually massed about the larger end. In one case the eggs are uniformly spotted with small spots all over. In none is the spotting heaviest on the smaller end (reversed eggs). Spots are usually inclined to be round, but occasionally they are in the form of streaks arranged roughly in spiral form. Only rarely are they banded about the larger end. In two cases a narrow black line was produced spirally on the larger end. The coloration of the spots varies from "snuff brown" to "sepia" and from "cinnamon brown" to "mummy brown." In some cases they are "raw umber." The darkest shades occur where the spots overlap and some deep-seated ones are "pale aniline lilac" or "pale" to "deep quaker drab." Only rarely is the outline of a spot not sharp.

The average dimensions derived from the above series of 72 eggs are: Length, 39.473 and breadth 27.468. Those which showed the extreme measurements were 42.0 by 27.8; 35 by 27.4; 37.6 by 39, and 39.1 by 26.4.

Young.—The period of incubation is said to be about 20 days, in which both sexes share. William Palmer (1899) says:

The young leave the nest soon after hatching and are thoroughly well concealed by their mimicry of the confusing mixture of mosses, lichens, and other forms of vegetation which abounds and are so well intermingled on these islands. It requires much patience and a close scrutiny to detect a crouching young, even when it is directly within reach. Obedient to their mother's cries they flatten themselves with head and neck extended; with each yard of the ground precisely similar in pattern and color with every other yard, and the parents, especially the female, trying their best to coax us in other directions, and the uncertainty as to the exact location of the young, all combine against the collector, so that few specimens reward a tramp that seems exasperatingly needless. The young will not move, though one stands with the foot touching them, but when once handled and released they scamper off with all the quickness their long legs can give them. When we invade the vicinity of a nest or young it is amusing to watch the antics of the female. She invariably flies in front and flutters with feigned lameness but a few feet away. If the ground is rough it is more amusing to watch the precipitancy of her flight until she disappears in a hollow, to reappear in a moment on the other side, cautiously turning round and eying us to see if we are following. She always keeps in front of us, no matter which way we turn, and will continue thus for several hundred yards, when she will suddenly fly off to some distance and after waiting awhile will return to the vicinity of the nest or young.

Mr. Hanna (1921) writes:

So far as known, the food of both old and young consists of beetles and flies while the birds remain on the highlands; when they move to the ponds and seashores they eat copepods, amphipods, etc. As soon as the young birds are well able to fly they resort to the tide pools and small ponds near the sea. Later the older birds join them and the flocks increase in size to several hundred in favorable places. This takes place in August and September in such localities as the Salt Lagoon of St. Paul Island.

Plumages.—The color pattern of the downy young Pribilof sandpiper is similar to that of the Aleutian, but the colors are different, much duller. The bright browns and buffs of the upper parts are replaced by "burnt umber," "snuff brown," "clay color," and "cinnamon buff," and the black markings are largely replaced by dark browns; the black patch in the center of the back is about as in the Aleutian. The under parts are less pure white, always suffused with pale buff on the throat and flanks and sometimes largely so on the breast also.

Mr. Palmer's (1899) studies of the molts and plumages indicate that they are similar to those of the Aleutian sandpiper; he writes:

The downy young are beautiful little things, silvery white beneath, bright, rich ocherous above, variegated with black and dots of white. The general color above lacks the grayness of the similar age of maritimus. The white dots are interesting under the microscope. They are composed of a bunch of highly specialized down, in which the radii near the tip are crowded and colorless. As they grow older the first feathers appear on the sides of the breast, on the back and scapulars; then the primaries and larger wing coverts appear. The feathering continues until the breast and under parts are covered, when the tail appears. At this time there are no feathers on the rump or on the head or neck. In the next stage feathers have appeared on the occiput and on the auriculars and are also extending up the neck. At the same time the tips of the back feathers have become somewhat worn, so that the colored margins are narrower and the black more prominent. The wing coverts are also to some extent worn on their tips. When the bill is an inch long the down has nearly all disappeared, and when it has entirely gone the birds appear in small flocks on the beaches, the young generally keeping together. Then another change takes place, for the entire plumage now gives way to another, that in which the bird passes the winter. A few late July, immature birds show the beginning, for No. 118832, im. [male], July 29, has a few new feathers on the middle of the back and on the scapulars. They soon extend all over the back, so that specimens collected up to August 10 have many of the new whitish feathers on that region.

The contrast is striking between these feathers, the latest being of an almost even shade of pale plumbean with darker centers and generally with a narrow white margin. There are no specimens to show the complete change, but it is probable that these young birds remain on the islands until it is completed. By the middle of June the adults have fully changed to the breeding plumage, but on some specimens a few feathers of the previous winter's plumage persist much later. Thus on many specimens some alternate feathers of the scapulars and tertials are of the previous winter's well-worn plumage. In fact, few specimens are free from these old feathers. Soon after the middle of July the new plumage of the next winter begins to appear. At first a few feathers show about the breast, then on the scapulars, thence up the neck and over the head, so that by the 10th of August they have changed one-half. It would thus appear that before this species leaves the islands they assume entirely their new dress. And at this season, August 10, old and young flock together for the first time, and confine themselves to the sand beaches and surf margins about the islands for a few weeks, when they take flight by the 1st or 5th of September, and disappear until the opening of the new season.

The Pribilof sandpiper is much paler in the juvenal plumage and grayer in the winter plumage than the Aleutian.

Food.—Preble and McAtee (1923) report on the contents of 192 stomachs, as follows:

The articles of food composing more than 1 per cent of the total were: Mollusks, 32.63 per cent; crustaceans, 29.15 per cent; flies (Diptera), 23.49 per cent; beetles, 10.29 per cent; marine worms, 1.27 per cent; and vegetable matter, chiefly algae, 1.21 per cent. The vegetable matter, besides algae, included bits of moss and a few seeds of grass, lupine, violet, crowberry, and bottle brush.

Behavior.—Referring to the habits of Pribilof sandpipers, Mr. Palmer (1899) says:

They appear stupid when solitary and without a family, and will stand perfectly still, eying one from a little eminence. Occasionally we are startled by a loud druuett from the side of a sand dune, and I was at a loss for some time to discover the owner of this most unmusical sound, which finally turned out to be an individual of this species standing motionless and watching us. It would seem impossible for this sound to have issued from this bird if I had not seen it in the act. These sandpipers have the habit in common with others of their kind of suddenly elevating the wing directly over the back. Often when alighting on the tundra, as soon as they stopped up went one wing, followed soon after, perhaps, by the other. Often while watching a flock on the lagoon beach first one would elevate a wing, then another; it was always the near wing which went up first. I never saw a bird elevate the off wing first. I know of no reason for their doing so. They are tame. I have walked up to a flock of about 50, and with care could drive them before me for some distance before they took flight, being but a few feet away. They are often seen feeding in the water up to their breasts, and seem to take delight in it. They swim readily, but not often. On June 30 I saw one fly out to a stone in a pool, and after gathering all the food possible it deliberately swam to another, and having visited each stone in the same way flew back to the shore and then bathed itself, occasionally taking a swim.

Voice.—Mr. Hanna (1921) describes the notes of this bird as follows:

If a person climbs to the sandpiper country on St. George during May or June one of his first surprises will be a series of notes very much like those of the flicker, a full deep whistle repeated in the same pitch about a dozen times in quick succession. The bird utters this while on the wing, most likely when it is coming toward the intruder with great speed. When close by it wheels and settles lightly on a near-by hummock or "niggerhead." One wing will be held vertically extended for a few seconds after alighting and may be flashed at short intervals thereafter. Another note for which I have no descriptive language always reminded me of the sound of tree frogs. It is the note usually given when the birds are on the ground. While neither can be called a song they are very attractive and pleasant to the listener and most surprising to one familiar with the "peep peep" of sandpipers in winter.

Field marks.—In winter the Pribilof sandpiper looks much like the purple sandpiper; it frequents similar haunts and has much the same habits. But its summer plumage, with its rufous upper parts and mottled under parts, is strikingly different. It resembles the Aleutian sandpiper in all plumages, but it is decidedly larger and, in summer, its upper parts are lighter rufous and there is more white in the under parts.

Fall.—According to Preble and McAtee (1923):

About the middle of July, when the nesting birds are freed from family cares, they begin to resort to the beaches to feed, and at night gather in flocks to roost on some favorite rocky point. Later the young join the adults and the flocks increase in size through August. About August 9 the birds began to be common about the beaches, the flocks there apparently being in excess of the number breeding on the islands, and in all probability, therefore, comprised in part of migrants from other breeding stations. They continued to be abundant until my departure on the last of August.

The Pribilof sandpiper is too rare and beautiful to be treated as a game bird, but Mr. Hanna (1921) writes:

The birds possess some economic importance to the natives of the Pribilofs, and they have occasionally been eaten in the officers' messes. Their habit of congregating in fairly compact flocks and their fearless unassuming nature make them easy targets. For this reason close watch should be kept of the numbers returning annually, and should any noticeable diminution take place strict prohibitive measures can and should be invoked. This is possible because the islands are under strict governmental control as regards all wild life. Because of its limited range it would not be a difficult matter to completely exterminate the species. Special protective measures at this time, however, are not believed to be essential because there is even less hunting now than there has been for fifty or more years. The introduction of livestock and reindeer for fresh food removes in large measure the necessity for shooting, and the native is ordinarily too indolent to hunt unless he has to do so for food.

DISTRIBUTION