Chapter VI: Introduction (5)

_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: