Chapter C: J. Maynard (1896) found them breeding in Florida, during the first (2)

This was the commonest species of sandpiper on the beaches
at Cairns and Yarrabah early in September, feeding in small
parties. The first were noted on September 1. They are
easily recognized by their gray plumage and yellow legs,
though the latter are not so brightly colored as those of
the two species known in America as yellowlegs.

DISTRIBUTION

_Range._--Eastern Asia, Melanesia, and Australia; casual on the Pribilof Islands.

The Polynesian tattler breeds in eastern Siberia, from Lake Baikal to Kamchatka; in migration it passes through China, Japan, and the Philippine Islands to winter quarters in the Malay Archipelago and northern Australia (Queensland).

_Casual records._--This species has been detected in North America on three occasions, all on St. Paul Island, of the Pribilof group, Alaska (October 4, 1911, September 2, 1917, and September 17, 1919).

PHILOMACHUS PUGNAX (Linnaeus)

RUFF

_Contributed by Francis Charles Robert Jourdain_

HABITS

The claim of the ruff to a place in the American list is a much stronger one than that of most of the Palaearctic species which figure in it, as it has occurred three times in Greenland, once in Canada, on many occasions in the eastern States, in Barbados, Guadeloupe, and South America.

_Spring._--Apparently the ruff migrates chiefly by night and in this connection it is noticeable that the period of its greatest activity in the breeding season is during the twilight of the early morning hours. Naumann (1887) states that the first birds to arrive are the young of the preceding year, and that the adult males are the next to follow while they in turn are succeeded by the old females. Owing to the enormous development of the feathered ruff from which the species derives its names, the males are readily distinguished during the breeding season even in flight and on the ground can be recognized at almost any distance.

_Courtship._--The breeding habits of the ruff are so remarkable that it is necessary to treat of them in considerable detail. When the males reach the breeding ground they are in full breeding plumage, the bare skin of the face being covered with bright yellow warts, while a disk of feathers protects the neck and two tufts project from each side of the head. The extraordinary variation in the coloring of these feather adornments renders it possible to identify individual birds, as it is rare to see two with even approximately similar coloring, and this enabled Mr. Selous (1906) to make the valuable observations which are referred to below.

Where ruffs are common, as in North Holland, one finds from time to time bare areas of ground where the grass has been worn away in patches. They are the playing grounds of the ruffs, and were known in England technically as “hills.” During the daytime they are resorted to from time to time by the male birds, which may often be seen sparring with one another, but the significance of these meetings was little understood until Edmund Selous (1906) spent a fortnight in the spring of 1906 in Holland, during which he concealed himself in a hide which commanded a good view of the “hill” at close quarters, and was often on the watch before daylight. The diary of his observations was first published in the _Zoologist_ for 1906 and 1907, and is too lengthy and discursive to be reproduced here, but in the following condensed account most of the essential facts have been preserved. The “hill” under observation was roughly about 10 paces by 6, with 11 distinct patches where the grass had been worn bare, besides a couple of others less plainly marked. There were other similar “hills” in the neighborhood, all much alike, placed on dry ground, in the neighborhood of marshes. They are resorted to year after year, and bear traces of excrement from previous seasons, while the grass is much worn away owing to the presence of the birds. Some of the Dutch “hills” are quite close to or actually in the way of paths, and the birds when disturbed by passers-by will return to the ground within a few minutes. Like many other Dutch birds they show much indifference to the presence of man, owing to the fact that no shooting is permitted during the breeding season. On April 14 a single male was disturbed by Selous from the “hill” at 7 a. m. and did not return, but on the next day a flock of eight or nine birds arrived and at once began to fight, but not on the “hill.” It soon became evident that in order to be in place before the arrival of the birds it was necessary to get into hiding before dawn. By April 16 the “hill” was in regular use, each male resorting to the same stand and sitting there, from time to time rising and making a slight demonstration with erected tufts and ruff, sometimes followed by a slight sparring match with one of the other males, but when not engaged in fighting spending the time quite amicably side by side, in some cases almost touching. In the afternoon a similar state of things prevailed, but the proceedings were quieter and more subdued. When sparring the birds “would rush and leap high into the air against each other, rushing away and not leaping again as they came down,” and this activity was generally more pronounced when a reeve appeared on the ground. The other birds on occasions of this kind also rushed about in wild excitement, suddenly pulling themselves up with the head extended forward and remaining in this position motionless, perhaps then rushing in another direction and then gradually sinking down quickly. When a reeve arrived at the “hill,” where perhaps a dozen males were present, after the first wave of excitement had passed she would thread her way among the ruffs, which as she approached sank down to the ground by her side with bowed head. Her preference for one particular male was shown by halting at his side and gently nibbling with her bill the feathers at the back of his neck. If copulation followed, there was no interference on the part of the other males present, except perhaps occasionally by accident in the course of excited running to and fro.

After persistent watching it became evident that the attentions of the reeves were very unevenly distributed among the regular habitues of the “hill.” There were two conspicuously handsome males--one a bird with a golden-brown ruff and the other with a blue-black one--and these two seemed to be selected far more frequently than the other ruffs. The few attempts made by males to force the compliance of the female were quite unsuccessful. Perhaps it is due to this that attempts to pair between two male birds frequently took place and, strange to relate, even between two reeves also. Selection on the part of the hen birds apparently bore no relation to the fighting powers of the male, although one serious fight, which lasted some three or four minutes, took place, during which the two birds concerned fought like demons, but finally ceased by mutual consent. The two selected birds were, however, certainly among the finest and handsomest birds on the ground. While the stations were usually occupied by the same birds day after day, there were times when over 20 birds were present, so it is probable that males from other “hills” call in at times. While it was clear that one ruff paired with several reeves, it was much more difficult to prove that the reeves paired with more than one male, owing to their general similarity of appearance, though it is probable that this was the case. The following extract from Selous (1906) gives a good description of the characteristic sparring:

Each ruff has certainly a place of its own, and the most
envenomed fights appear to me to result from one bird
pitching down in another’s place when he flies in. The
aggrieved bird instantly rushes at the intruder and there
is a fight which may last for a longer or shorter time.
The birds have then a perfectly frantic appearance. They
kick, strike with their wings, and especially endeavor to
bite or peck each other. This biting is very noticeable,
the mandibles seeming to snap with rage. They leap commonly
before they close and then continue to do so as a matter of
course, the object seeming to be, as with other birds, to
get above the adversary and strike down upon him with wings
and feet and bill. Of course, when one bird is displaced
by another, others are displaced also, leading to general
commotion and, moreover, the mere anticipation of any fresh
arrival is matter for excitement for every ruff on the
ground.

Summarizing the results of Mr. Selous’ observations, it becomes evident that the “hills” are the pairing grounds to which both males and females resort, but the period of the greatest activity is during the early morning from about 3.30 a. m. onward. Each male has a definite place and the choice of a mate rests entirely with the female, the males adopting an attitude of supplication, crouching low with partially spread wings, tail and beak pointing to the ground. The hen marks her preference by nibbling the back of the neck of the prostrate male with her bill, and soon afterwards coition takes place, the surrounding males remaining usually quiescent. One reeve was seen to pair with two ruffs in succession and it is probable that she is polyandrous as the ruff is certainly polygamous. There seemed to be no connection between the fighting power of the males and the preference exercised so strikingly by the females, but, on the other hand, the favored ruffs were apparently always handsome and strikingly colored birds.

_Nesting._--The reeve makes her nest within a reasonable distance of the “hill,” but not very close to it. Naumann (1887) says that it is never less than a hundred paces distant, and most of those which I have seen were within a quarter of a mile. In the Dutch water meadows the usual nesting site is among fine, thickly growing grass, where it is difficult to see unless one’s eye is caught by a glimpse of the nest hollow. In the marshes of Lapland, where vegetation is more backward, it may be found among clumps of sedge and rushes. It is built entirely of fine grasses, and would frequently be overlooked if it were not for the sight of the bird when flushed.

_Eggs._--Normally four; sets of three are quite exceptional and are probably second or third layings. They are pyriform in shape, thin shelled, and, as is frequently the case with the eggs of waders, large for the size of the bird. The ground color varies from brownish yellow to pale olive brown as a rule, but occasionally has a greenish tinge, while varieties with a clear pale blue ground are not very scarce. The markings consist of spots and blotches of brown ranging from umber to dark sepia and ashy grey shellmarks, more numerous at the large end. White eggs have been recorded. The measurements of 143 eggs, chiefly by the writer, average 43.97 by 30.7 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure =47.5= by 30.5, 43.2 by =32.1=, =39.2= by 31.6, and 42.9 by =28= millimeters.

They are usually laid in central Europe during the latter half of May and early in June, occasionally in the second week of May. In northern Europe most eggs are found during the latter half of June. Only one brood is reared in the season.

_Young._--Incubation is performed by the female alone. Naumann (1887) gives the incubation period as 17 to 19 days, but this is probably too low an estimate and recently Heinroth has recorded 27 days. From observations made by Mr. W. H. St. Quinten on young hatched in captivity they leave the nest very soon after hatching, apparently directly the down is dry. The reeve is a good mother, and I have seen one when flushed from eggs on the point of hatching run from the nest, flapping her wings in a helpless way as if unable to fly. Another bird was also seen trying to distract attention by running with every feather erect, looking more like some small mammal than a bird.

_Plumages._--The plumages and moults are fully described in A Practical Handbook of British Birds, edited by H. F. Witherby.

_Food._--The ruff is mainly insectivorous, feeding largely on beetles (Coleoptera), chiefly the smaller species. Jäckel records specimens of the following genera: _Agonum_, _Bembidium_, _Parnus_, _Cyclonotum_, _Sitones_, _Pisodes_, _Rhinoncus_, _Philhydrus_. Weevils are also mentioned by Florence. Among the Orthoptera remains of grasshoppers were found by Slater. Neuroptera met with include caddis worms and cases (Phryganeidae) and larvae of _Ephemera_, Trichoptera (_Limnophilus_ by Jäckel) who also records _Naucoris_ (Hemiptera). It will be noted that most of the above are aquatic forms. Diptera are a staple food in the north, including larvae of Tipulidae and many small species. Of Mollusca, Slater records small fresh water bivalves, Collett worms (_Lumbrici_). In winter the food is more largely vegetable in character, though fresh water algae and seeds of _Rumex_ have been recorded in summer. Rice is frequently found in birds killed in India and Mellor also found in seven cases nothing but durra grains (Sorghum) from 19 to 228 in number.

_Voice._--The ruff is an extremely silent bird. One may live among them in the Dutch polders for weeks together in the spring, and never hear a sound from them, except a very low guttural or quacking note from a reeve when disturbed from a family of young. Naumann (1887) however describes a note _kack_, _kack_, _kick_, _kack_, which is probably the same as that which Slater writes as _wick_, repeated rapidly several times. Unless much persecuted it is confiding in its habits and pays little attention to the presence of men.

_Enemies._--In England its extermination was primarily due to the reckless way in which the breeding stock was netted not only in autumn but also on arrival in spring on the “hilling” grounds, in order to be fattened for the table. Montagu’s account of the state of things in his day has been quoted at length in many books on British birds, so that it is not necessary to repeat it here. As Pennant spoke of 40 or 50 dozen birds being taken by a single fowler in a season it is not surprising that the stock was rapidly reduced to so low a level that in spite of belated efforts to protect the birds and their eggs, it has now practically disappeared. On the continent where it is still locally common it has to contend against other avian enemies, more especially the harriers (_Circus_), but also the goshawk, peregrine, and to some extent gulls and crows.

_Fall._--The distinctive plumes of the male are shed in June and in July the autumn plumage is assumed even in the extreme north. The males begin to disappear from their breeding haunts in central Europe in late July and early August, while the females are said to leave in September.

_Winter._--In their winter quarters ruffs are generally sociable and are to be met with in small flocks, which show a preference to fresh water marshes rather than the sea coast. In India and the Sudan the flooded fields are a great attraction and the staple food consists of grain.

DISTRIBUTION

_Breeding range._--Formerly at many places in England from Northumberland southward, lingering until recently in Norfolk. Belgium, locally in North France, Holland, Denmark, North Germany, and Bavaria (Jäckel). Hungary, Czechoslovakia, the Baltic Republics, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Russia north to Kolguev, Waigatz, and Dolgoi and south to Bessarabia and Orenburg. In Asia, Siberia north to 72° on the Yenisei and east to the Lena and Kolyma valleys, south to Dauria, Turgai and Uralsk.

_Winter range._--From Europe through Africa south to Cape Province, but scarce on passage in the Atlantic Islands. Asia, south to India, Ceylon (scarce), Burma, also recorded from China and Japan, Borneo (Labuan), etc.

_Spring migration._--At the Straits of Gibraltar the northward movement begins in January and does not cease till May, but it is at its height in April. Some birds winter in the Mediterranean region and these have usually gone by the middle of April. In the eastern Mediterranean the passage begins in the Ionian Isles about March 15 and in Corfu in March.

_Fall migration._--The return passage through southern Spain takes place in August and September, while in Greece, where it is less noticeable, it appears to take place toward the end of September.

_Casual records._--The species has been rather frequently detected on the Atlantic coast of North America and (rarely) in the interior eastern States. Among these occurrences are: Ontario, Toronto Island, spring of 1882; Nova Scotia, near Halifax, May 27, 1892; New Brunswick, Grand Manan; Maine, Scarboro, April 10, 1870, Upton, September 8, 1874, and Camden, September 14, 1900; New Hampshire, Seabrook, September 23, 1907; Massachusetts, Newburyport, May 20, 1871, Chatham, September 11, 1880, and Nantucket, July, 1901; Rhode Island, Seaconnet Point, July 30, 1900, and Point Judith, August 31, 1903; New York, two on Long Island, one of which was taken May 18, 1868, and Freeport, September 27, 1914; New Jersey, Barnegat (Elliott collection); Virginia, Four-mile Run, September 3, 1894; North Carolina, Raleigh, May 6, 1892; Ohio, Licking Reservoir, November 11, 1872, and Columbus, April 23, 1878; and Indiana, English Lake, April 12, 1905.

It also has been taken in the Lesser Antilles, Barbados, previous to 1848; Colombia, probably between the Rio Negro and the Orinoco or adjacent regions; and Alaska, St. Paul Island, September 7, 1910. It is of rare occurrence in Japan (Yezo). There is one record from Iceland (Reykjavik, September, 1820).

_Egg dates._--In Holland, 4 dates between May 7 and 14; 18 dates between May 15 and 31, 8 dates between June 1 and 22. In Lapland and North Russia, 16 dates between June 8 and 27.

BARTRAMIA LONGICAUDA (Bechstein)

UPLAND PLOVER

HABITS

Let us be thankful that this gentle and lovely bird is no longer called Bartramian sandpiper. It is a sandpiper truly enough, but one that has adopted the haunts and many of the habits of the plovers. To those who love the rolling or hilly pasture lands of the east or the broad flat prairies of the middle west, it will always be known as the upland or “field plover” or “prairie dove,” or, more affectionately, as “quailie.” It is a characteristic bird of the prairies and wide open grassy fields, where it once abounded in enormous numbers. Excessive shooting for the market, where it was much in demand, reduced its numbers to an alarmingly low ebb. Dr. Thomas S. Roberts (1919) says that, in Minnesota,

Fifty years ago it was present all through the summer,
everywhere in open country, in countless thousands. Now
it is nearing extinction. Here and there an occasional
breeding pair may yet be found, but they are lonely
occupants of the places where their ancestors dwelt in vast
numbers.

And with the disappearing prairies have gone these and other interesting birds that made the wide open places so attractive. When I visited the Quill Lake region in Saskatchewan in 1917, I found that practically all the prairies had been burned over or cultivated; the long-billed curlew had entirely disappeared, though recently abundant there, and I saw only one pair of chestnut-collared longspurs; but some of the upland plover were adapting themselves to the new conditions and were nesting in cultivated fields, much as the spotted sandpipers and the killdeer have learned to nest in grain fields and truck gardens. Perhaps such adaptation may be the salvation of a useful and attractive species. Some observers report it as already increasing in numbers.

_Spring._--W. H. Hudson (1922) describes the beginning of the spring migration from the pampas of South America, as follows:

The north migration as a rule begins about the 15th of
February and continues to the 15th of March, and it is at
the beginning of the former month that the disquiet becomes
noticeable. Now on one occasion the season of unrest began
much earlier, in the month of January, increased from day
to day and week to week in the most extraordinary way,
and continued to about the middle of March before the
birds began to fly north, the migration continuing through
March. On any day in February when out riding I would see
from time to time a bird spring up with its wild alarm cry
and flight, and after going a little distance drop down
again. Then in a minute or two another, farther away, would
start up with its cry; and sitting still and watching and
listening, I could see the birds rise up here and there all
over the plain--rise with a cry, then settle down again;
and if one rode a 100 miles to any side he would find it
the same everywhere. The birds were in a continual state
of agitation, of fear; and though this state began so much
sooner than usual, the actual migration did not begin till
a month later than the usual time.

Dr. Alexander Wetmore (1926), writing from the same general region, says:

At Tucuman, Tucuman, five were heard early in the evening
of April 1 as they passed over the city traveling due north
during a slow rain accompanied by heavy mist. On the night
of April 5 under similar conditions an extensive flight of
shore birds began at a quarter of 10 and continued until
half past 11. During this period J. L. Peters, with whom
I was traveling at the time, and I identified the call of
the upland plover from 38 individuals. The birds were in
company with yellowlegs, solitary sandpipers, and a few
golden plover. How many passed unheard in the darkness
there was no way to know. The calling of these birds
when in northward migration was a phenomenon of common
knowledge in Tucuman during that season in the year, but
all commented upon the fact that the birds seemed to have
decreased greatly in abundance in recent years.

The earliest birds reach Texas and Louisiana early in March. Illustrating the abundance of this species in Texas 40 years ago, G. B. Benners (1887) says:

At the former place we found immense flocks on the prairie,
and they were so tame that the flock would part in the
middle and let us drive between them. We often shot enough
birds while going through a flock in this way to last for
several meals. When they thought we did not see them they
would stand perfectly still, and being the same color as
their surroundings they easily escaped detection.

From there the main migration route seems to be directly northward between the Mississippi River and the Rocky Mountains.

Fred J. Pierce writes to me:

On my rambles over the rolling country of Buchanan County,
Iowa, in the early spring, I usually hear the Bartramian
sandpiper and see the small speck high in the sky that I
know is his form. A damp, cloudy morning seems to be the
preferred time for the bird’s sky circling, but it may be
found frequently in the early morning, too. Cloudy days are
the days which it enjoys most, it appears.

Edward S. Thomas tells me that he has seen it in Ohio as early as March 26, but that the average date of arrival is April 2. It is not recorded east of Cuba in the spring, but some birds migrate across from Yucatan to Cuba and Florida and then up the Atlantic coast. When this species bred more commonly in New England it used to arrive in April, but now it is very rare here.

_Courtship._--The courtship flight song of the upland plover is well described in some notes sent to me by Fred J. Pierce, as follows:

The bird’s song is very interesting, but it is given
little attention in books relating to ornithology. On
still wings, these large birds circle slowly about,
usually so high as to be mere specks in the sky, and
give their shrill, penetrating whistle, which will carry
nearly a mile, depending upon the wind and the altitude of
the whistler. First there are a few notes sounding like
water gurgling from a large bottle, then comes the loud
_whip-whee-ee-you_, long drawn out and weirdly thrilling.
When I first heard this strange cry I at once thought
of some species of hawk as being the author of it, and
I have known others to think the same thing. It is too
loud and penetrating a cry to be attributed to one of
the sandpipers. I have heard the bird whistling in this
manner as late as July, but I do not believe that this is a
common practice. On more than one occasion I have seen the
bird, after circling at such height as to be almost out of
sight, close its wings and shoot to earth like a falling
stone. This thrilling performance is similar to that of the
prairie horned lark, which takes a headfirst drop to earth
when it has finished singing its contribution to the usual
spring morning chorus.

Another pretty version of the courtship is given by Katharine U. Hunter (1916) thus:

It was the springtime (1916). The prolonged wail, vague
and sad, of the plovers rose in our upland pasture. I
watched them carry on their odd courtship; hopping toward
each other, twittering, flying away, then repeating it all
again, the hopping, twittering, and retreating. Ungainly,
spirit-voiced birds! Once from out the black, vibrant night
came the eerie, long-drawn whistle of a plover lover.

_Nesting._--My first upland plover’s nest was found on May 25, 1900, near the western end of Marthas Vineyard, Mass. The birds were still fairly common here in those days and there were at least three pairs of them breeding in this and adjoining pastures. The nest was on a knoll in a sheep pasture where the grass had been cropped short except for scattered tufts, where it grew from 7 to 10 inches high, offering the necessary concealment. In one of these tufts, about a foot in diameter, a hollow had been scratched, 4 or 5 inches in diameter and nearly 3 inches deep; it was lined with small bits of dried grass and held four handsome eggs.

Since then I have found several nests in Saskatchewan. These nests were all similarly located on the dry, grassy prairies, slight hollows in the ground, about 4 inches in diameter and 2 inches deep, generally well hidden in rather long, thick grass; they were lined with pieces of dry grass, and the growing grass was artfully arched over them for protection. The birds usually sat very closely; once we drove over a nest, flushing the bird under the wagon; and several times we were able to part the grass over the nest or even touch the bird before she left. She usually ran or fluttered away for a few feet and then ran about near us, with her long neck stretched up above the grass, watching us and uttering her _quip-ip-ip-ip_ notes of protest.

Nests found by others have been similarly described, but Prof. W. B. Barrows (1912) says that--

in Michigan, it frequently nests in wet grounds, although
the nest itself is usually placed on one of the drier
spots. We have seen the birds nesting in two instances in
good snipe bogs where the mud was ankle deep and dry spots
few and far between.

Prof. William Rowan (1926) says that in Alberta--

the nests found were very variable in make-up and
situation. One had no lining whatever and consisted of a
mere scrape in the ground. This was in a hollow right in
the open on a huge sandy area with but sparse vegetation,
on which long-billed curlews (_Numenius americanus_) were
nesting. Others were in clumps of rough brush, and this is
probably typical for this locality. Another was in long
grass. The most elaborate lining noted consisted of leaves,
bents, and small twigs. One clutch of five was found and
one of three, the latter no doubt incomplete, as the bird
was not about and the eggs were fresh.

Edward R. Ford has the following observation on the selection of a nesting site:

As in the case of the larger ground-nesting birds,
whose nests have little architectural pretension, the
upland plover often deposits the first egg before any
nest-building operations have been begun. It is probable
that the physiological condition of the female urges her
to seek a location generally favorable to the successful
rearing of a brood; but the exact site of the nest may
be in some measure accidental. It is not often that one
may be fortunate enough to come upon the kind of evidence
best calculated to prove a theory of animal behavior, but
it happened once that we found a single egg of the upland
plover, unbetrayed by the presence of the parent and hidden
deep in the grass. It might have been an egg prematurely
laid and, therefore, not likely to receive further parental
attention. If it had been a meadow lark’s egg, for example,
that would have been the conclusion and the facts of
experience would have borne it out. But here was the chance
to test a theory and so, while not surprised, we were
gratified, three days later, to flush a bird from the spot
marked as the location of the single egg and to find there
the full complement of four. About these the dry grass had
taken hemispherical form and, with the addition of loose
material and by reason of the impression made by the eggs
themselves, as well as by the body of the parent, there now
existed a well-defined if simple nest.

_Eggs._--The upland plover lays four eggs, rarely five, and perhaps sometimes only three. These are ovate to short ovate in shape, less pointed than most shore birds’ eggs; and they have only a slight gloss. In the commonest types the ground colors vary from “light pinkish cinnamon” to “pale pinkish buff”; in others they vary from “cartridge buff” or “pale olive buff” to greenish white. They are more or less evenly spotted with small spots of various shades of dark browns or reddish browns, and usually with small underlying spots, rarely large blotches, of “ecru drab” or “pale drab gray.” The measurements of 66 eggs in the United States National Museum average 45 by 32.5 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure =51= by 33, 48 by =35=, =41.5= by 32.5, and 48 by =29.5= millimeters.

_Young._--The incubation period is said to be 17 days, but this needs confirmation. Both sexes share in the duties of incubation and care of the young. Katharine U. Hunter (1916) says:

The birds relieved each other at the nest--a true division
of domestic cares: one bird would alight at a long
distance, fold his wings, utter no cry, and, with head held
low, walk through the grass, squatting lower and lower till
finally he disappeared on the nest; then the female would
retreat with the same caution, not spreading her wings till
far from the eggs.

Doctor Coues (1874) describes the behavior of young birds and their parents very well, as follows:

Young birds are abroad late in June--curious little
creatures, timid and weak, led about by their anxious
parents, solicitous for their welfare, and ready to
engage in the most unequal contests in their behalf. When
half grown, but still in the down, the little creatures
have a curious clumsy, top-heavy look; their legs look
disproportionately large, like those of a young colt or
calf; and they may be caught with little difficulty, as
they do not run very well. I once happened upon a brood,
perhaps two weeks old, rambling with their mother over
the prairie. She sounded the alarm, to scatter her brood,
but not before I had secured one of them in my hand. I
never saw a braver defense attempted than was made by this
strong-hearted though powerless bird, who, after exhausting
her artifices to draw me in pursuit of herself, by tumbling
about as if desperately wounded, and lying panting with
outstretched wings on the grass, gave up hope of saving
her young in this way, and then almost attacked me,
dashing close up and retreating again to renew her useless
onslaught. She was evidently incited to unusual courage by
the sight of her little one struggling in my hand. At this
downy stage the young birds are white below, finely mottled
with black, white, and rich brown above; the feet and under
mandible are light colored; the upper mandible is blackish.

Although these tattlers are generally dispersed over the
prairies during the summer, yet they affect particular
spots by preference. Away from the river valleys, such
spots are the numerous depressions of rolling prairie,
often of great extent, which are moist or even watery at
some seasons, and where the vegetation is most luxuriant.
Here they gather almost into colonies. Riding into some
such spot in July, when the young birds are being led
about by their parents, some old bird more watchful than
the rest, or nearest to the person approaching, gives the
alarm with a loud outcry, the young scatter and hide, and
all the old birds are soon on wing; hovering in the air,
often at a great height, crossing each other’s path, and
ceaselessly vociferating their displeasure. I have often
seen a dozen or twenty overhead at once, all from a little
spot only a few acres in extent. Later in the season, when
all the summer’s broods are on wing, they make up into
flocks, often of great extent, and old and young together
assume the ordinary routine of their lives. They leave
these northern regions early. I saw none after the forepart
of September.

_Plumages._--In the downy young upland plover, the crown, back, and rump are prettily variegated, marbled, or mottled, with black, “wood brown,” “pinkish buff,” and white, with no definite pattern. The sides of the head and the entire under parts are pale buff or buffy white, whitest on the belly and throat. A narrow, median frontal stripe and a few spots on the sides of the head are black.

The juvenal plumage is much like that of the summer adult, but it is much more buffy, especially about the head and neck, which are “cinnamon-buff” or “light ochraceous buff”; the crown is nearly solid brownish black, or with only a narrow, median, buffy line; the back and scapulars are brownish black with broad “cinnamon” edgings and with little or no definite barring on the scapulars; the lesser wing coverts are sepia with “cinnamon-buff” edgings, broader than in the adult; and the median coverts are sepia, broadly tipped, and notched with “cinnamon-buff” and with a subterminal spot or bar of dark sepia. This plumage is partially molted in August and September, producing the first winter plumage, which is like the adult, except that the juvenal flight feathers and most of the wing coverts are retained. At the first prenuptial molt young birds apparently become indistinguishable from adults.

Adults have a complete postnuptial molt, beginning with the body plumage in August and ending with the wings in December and January. Their prenuptial molt in spring involves nearly everything but the wings. The winter plumage is less buffy than the spring, more grayish above and whiter below, with paler edgings, but the color pattern is about the same.

_Food._--The feeding habits of the upland plover are almost wholly beneficial. It is one of our most useful birds; living, as it does, in grass lands and cultivated fields, it destroys vast numbers of grasshoppers, locusts, and other injurious insects. W. L. McAtee (1912) writes:

From its habits the upland plover would naturally be
expected to have a closer relation to agriculture than most
sandpipers, and such proves to be the case. Almost half its
food is made up of grasshoppers, crickets, and weevils,
all of which exact heavy toll from cultivated crops. Among
the weevils eaten are the cottonboll weevil; greater and
lesser clover-leaf weevils; clover-root weevils; _Epicaerus
imbricatus_, which is known to attack almost all garden and
orchard crops; cowpea curculios; _Tanymecus confertus_,
an enemy of sugar beets; _Thecesternus humeralis_, which
has been known to injure grapevines; and bill bugs.
_Thecesternus_ alone composes 3.65 per cent of the seasonal
food of the 163 stomachs examined, and bill bugs constitute
5.83 per cent. No fewer than 8 species of bill bugs were
identified from the stomachs. These weevils injure, often
seriously, such crops as corn, wheat, barley, and rye, as
well as forage plants of many kinds. The upland plover
further makes itself useful to the farmer by devouring leaf
beetles, including the grapevine colaspis, southern corn
leaf-beetle, and other injurious species; wireworms and
their adult forms, the click beetles; white grubs and their
parents, the May beetles; cutworms, army worms; cotton
worms; cotton cutworms; sawfly larvae; and leather-jackets
or cranefly larvae. They befriend cattle by eating
horseflies and their larvae, and cattle ticks. They eat a
variety of other animal forms, such as moths, ants, and
other _Hymenoptera_, flies, bugs, centipedes and millipeds,
spiders, snails, and earthworms. Practically 97 per cent of
the food consists of animal matter, chiefly of injurious
and neutral forms. The vegetable food comprises the seeds
of such weed pests as buttonweed, foxtail grass, and sand
spurs, and hence is also to the credit of the bird.

J. M. Bates (1907) says that, in Nebraska, “after the wheat is cut, and during migration, it frequents the wheat stubble and gorges itself with the waste grain.” He has also seen it in the rye stubble in Connecticut. But this does no harm, of course.

_Behavior._--When traveling the upland plover’s flight is swift and strong, well sustained on its long, pointed wings; and when migrating, by day or by night, it flies at a great height. In the autumn it is wary and difficult to approach, as it jumps up at long range and flies rapidly away for a long distance. But in the spring its flight is quite different, more leisurely; it seems to drift along so high up in the sky as to be almost invisible; it might pass unnoticed, were it not for its flute like notes. Edwin Sandys (1904) has described this very well, as follows:

This drifting flight is characteristic of the present
species, and it usually ends in a diving slant earthward,
which is performed without any perceptible motion of the
wings. A few feet from the ground the long, beautiful,
easy descent is gently checked, and the bird alights as
quietly as though it had stooped only a yard or so instead
of hundreds or thousands of feet. For a few seconds after
alighting the bird is apt to keep its wings considerably
elevated above its back, and the brief pose in this
position is particularly attractive. Then the airy fans are
sedately furled. This pretty trick of keeping the wings
spread as if for a momentary study of how they should be
correctly folded is not peculiar to this species. Others
of its near and remote kin go through the same dainty
evolution, although, perhaps, without the air of studied
care which is characteristic of Bartram’s sandpiper.

On its breeding grounds its flight is different again; it often flies along slowly and evenly, at a low elevation, 15 or 20 feet above the ground, on quickly vibrating wings, pouring out its liquid, rolling trills or flute like notes, a delightful performance; or when flushed from its nest it flies off close to the ground with short, rapid strokes of its down-curved wings, as if using only its wing tips, suggesting the flight of the spotted sandpiper. On a windy day it may occasionally be seen to soar or hover on quivering wings like a small falcon.

On the ground its movements are ploverlike, running swiftly and stopping suddenly. It runs gracefully through the grass with its long neck stretched up to watch the pursuer; or, crouching down, it runs rapidly away and disappears in the grass. It alights frequently on fences, telegraph poles, stumps, or rocks to watch the intruder and scold at him. It is seldom seen near water, and I doubt if anyone has ever seen it swimming. It is a gentle bird at all times and lives harmoniously with its neighbors on its breeding grounds, but it does not seem to associate with other species elsewhere.

_Voice._--The voice of the upland plover is one of its greatest charms; once heard in its perfection it will never be forgotten; and it often serves to identify the species when the bird can not be seen. W. H. Hudson (1922) has referred to it very attractively, as follows:

Lying awake in bed, I would listen by the hour to that
sound coming to me from the sky, mellowed and made
beautiful by distance and the profound silence of the
moonlit world, until it acquired a fascination for me above
all sounds on earth, so that it lived ever after in me;
and the image of it is as vivid in my mind at this moment
as that of any bird call or cry, or any other striking
sound heard yesterday or but an hour ago. It was the sense
of mystery it conveyed which so attracted and impressed
me--the mystery of that delicate, frail, beautiful being,
traveling in the sky, alone, day and night, crying aloud
at intervals as if moved by some powerful emotion, beating
the air with its wings, its beak pointing like the needle
of the compass to the north, flying, speeding on its
7,000-mile flight to its nesting home in another hemisphere.

The most beautiful and striking note heard on its breeding grounds is a sweet, mellow, rolling trill, uttered as the bird flies along at a low elevation or while perched on a fence post or even on the ground; it is evidently a love note. Prof. Lynds Jones (1903) has described it very well, as follows:

The rolling cry is not unlike the rolling call of a tree
toad, but of a different quality and caliber, which
makes it unmistakable. The whistle is partly double,
the first part passing upward nearly half an octave,
terminating abruptly there, the second part beginning
where the first began and rapidly swelling through nearly
or quite an octave, then gradually falling again and
decreasing in volume to the close, several tones above
the beginning. The first part of the whistle is usually
rattling or trilled, and sometimes the trill is carried
to the end, but oftener it becomes a clear whistle
before the culmination and continues clear to the end.
_Tre-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e, tre-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-p;
or tr-r-r-r-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-p._ Often the whistled part is
never reached, but the call stops as if interrupted by some
threatened danger.

The alarm note, as the bird flies away from its nest or as it runs about scolding at the intruder, is an emphatic and rapidly uttered _quip-ip-ip-ip_. It also has a rich, musical note, which sounds like _qua-a-ily_, from which one of its local names is taken. This and a modified form of its rolling trill are often heard on migration, a prolonged, mournful, mellow whistle, drifting down out of the sky, more like the whistling of the wind than a bird’s voice.

_Field marks._--The upland plover should be easily recognized by its size and shape; its slender, graceful form, its delicate head and neck, and its long tail are characteristic. In flight its long, pointed wings, its dark rump, and its barred, whitish, outer tail feathers are good field marks. Its manner of flight and its notes are distinctive.

_Fall._--About the middle of July, or even earlier, old and young birds begin to gather into flocks, move off their breeding grounds, and start on their fall migrations. The migratory flights are made mainly during the night or early evening. At this season the birds are much wilder, the leisurely behavior of spring and summer has gone, their flight is much swifter and stronger, and it is difficult to approach the loose, detached flocks which stop to feed during the day on the hoards of grasshoppers and locusts which are then to be found in the upland pastures and dry meadows. During wet spells they do not stop, but in hot, dry weather they linger to feast on the abundant insect life and become very fat. We used to expect them in Massachusetts about the last of July, but they were most abundant in August and early September. The general movement is southward, through the interior and the Atlantic Coast States and through the West Indies to South America. The earliest birds reach Louisiana and Texas early in July and arrive in Peru and Argentina in September. The last birds leave their breeding range before the end of September.

_Game._--The upland plover is, or was, a fine game bird. Over 40 years ago, in my younger shooting days, these birds were still fairly common in Massachusetts, but it was no easy job to make a fair day’s bag; it meant tramping many miles over rolling, or hilly pasture lands, where the wary birds rose at long range and flew swiftly away for a long distance. One had to shoot quickly and accurately to kill his bird, and perhaps chase one for several miles before getting even a long shot at him. It was a real sporting proposition with the chances much in the bird’s favor. The birds would not come to decoys, nor to the gunner’s whistle and a dog was utterly useless except to retrieve birds. A thorough knowledge of the ground and of the birds’ fly-ways sometimes brought results, when we could hide behind some fence or stone wall and wait for the birds to fly over. Even meager results were well worth while, for we had plenty of good exercise and the birds made delicious morsels for the table.

A more common and more successful, though less sportsmanlike, method of shooting them is thus described by Edwin Sandys (1904):

A popular method in many parts of the West is to drive to
the birds in a buckboard, or other convenient rig. For a
man who can shoot well in the sitting posture this is an
excellent plant, as the birds almost invariably will permit
a wheeled conveyance to approach within comparatively easy
range. A clever driver is a valuable assistance. Such a
man never heads his team directly at the birds, but drives
as though he merely intended to pass them by. A good
judge of distance in the open can in this way edge within
comfortable range of plover which, if the driver steered
straight for them, or with the gun attempted to dismount
and stalk, would at once make off. I have varied the
shooting from the seat by walking at the horse’s shoulders.
The plover do not appear to notice the extra pair of legs.
This sometimes gives the prettiest kind of shooting. All
one has to do is to judge when sufficiently close, then
stand still with the gun at the ready, while the team moves
steadily ahead. Usually the plover will take wing the
moment the foot-man is uncovered; but should they not, the
man can gain a few yards by briskly walking toward them.
I have occasionally stalked them by keeping close to the
shoulder of a steady old horse that was indifferent in the
matters of smoke and loud reports.

Edward H. Forbush (1912) writes:

About 1880, when the supply of passenger pigeons began to
fail, and the marketmen, looking about for some other game
for the table of the epicure in spring and summer, called
for plover, the destruction of the upland plover began in
earnest. The price increased. In the spring migration the
birds were met by a horde of market gunners, shot, packed
in barrels and shipped to the cities. There are tales of
special refrigerator cars sent out to the prairie regions,
and parties of gunners regularly employed to follow the
birds and ship plover and curlews by the carload to the
Chicago market. These may not be based on facts, but we
know that the birds came to market in great quantities.

_Winter._--The upland plover spends our winter months on the pampas of Argentina and Patagonia, where unfortunately it is more sought for by market hunters than it is here. Mr. Hudson (1920) writes:

This species differs from its fellow-migrants of the same
family from the north to Argentina in its wide and even
distribution over all that portion of the pampas where
the native coarse grasses which once covered the country
have disappeared, an area comprising not less than 50,000
square miles. It begins to arrive as early as September,
coming singly or in small parties of three or four; and,
extraordinary as the fact may seem when we consider the
long distance the bird travels, and the monotonous nature
of the level country it uses as a “feeding area,” it is
probable that every bird returns to the same spot year
after year; for in no other way could such a distribution
be maintained, and the birds appear every summer evenly
sprinkled over so immense a surface.

Doctor Wetmore (1926) says:

Formerly abundant, the upland plover is now rare in the
region where it spends the period of northern winter. Its
winter range on the open pampa is a region so vast that it
is difficult to form a proper estimate of the actual number
of individuals of the species that remain. Among epicures
the species has inherited in part the name and reputation
of the Eskimo curlew and is sought constantly by gunners to
supply that demand. The few that survive frequent remote
regions on some of the large estancias where they are
secure until they leave their seclusion and begin their
return flight northward. The majority of those that I noted
were identified by their liquid calls, heard, as is the
case in Washington, as they passed at night.

He says again (1927):

In the season of 1919–20 the upland plover was reported
to have increased somewhat in abundance at Rosas in the
Province of Buenos Aires, a circumstance due perhaps to
protection in the United States and Canada. It can hardly
be expected to regain anywhere near its former abundance,
however, with increasing encroachment on its winter and
summer ranges. Unfortunately, in Argentina it has replaced
the Eskimo curlew as a table delicacy, and is so eagerly
sought by gunners that its preservation in settled regions
is doubtful. Those that remain must seek the pastures of
remote estancias in order to survive.

DISTRIBUTION

_Range._--North and South America; accidental in Europe.

_Breeding range._--The breeding range of the upland plover extends north to Alaska (Kobuk River and Gens de Large Mountains); southern Mackenzie (probably Fort Smith); Saskatchewan (Prince Albert, Quill Lake, and Crescent Lake); Manitoba (Shoal Lake and Winnipeg); Minnesota (Clarissa, St. Cloud, Minneapolis, and Lake City); Wisconsin (Kingston and Kelley Brook); Michigan (Lovells and Zion City); Ontario (probably Plover Mills, Dunnville, and Kingston); northern New York (Canton and Potsdam); southern Quebec (Hatley); and Maine (Farmington, Plymouth, Orono, and Calais). East to Maine (Calais); Massachusetts (Salem, Marthas Vineyard, and Nantucket); probably Connecticut (South Windsor); New York (Montauk Point); New Jersey (Princeton, Lawrenceville, and probably Tuckerton); Virginia (Wallops Island); and rarely South Carolina (Oakland). South to rarely South Carolina (Oakland); southern Indiana (Bicknell); Illinois (Olney and Odin); Missouri (Appleton and probably Stotesbury); Oklahoma (Copan and Fort Reno); probably Texas (Gainesville); Colorado (Barr and Denver); Utah (Kamas Prairies); and Oregon (Fort Klamath). West to Oregon (Fort Klamath); northern Idaho (Lapwai and Fort Sherman); British Columbia (Newgate and Osoyoos Lake); probably Alberta (Edmonton and Athabaska Landing); and Alaska (Mount McKinley and Kobuk River).

_Winter range._--The main winter range of the species is confined to the southern part of South America, north to northern Argentina (Tucuman); and southern Brazil (Irisanga and probably Mattodentro). East to southern Brazil (probably Mattodentro); Uruguay (Concepcion, Sta. Elena, and Colonia); and eastern Argentina (Buenos Aires and Rio Negro). South to Argentina (Rio Negro). West to Argentina (Rio Negro, Mendoza, and Tucuman). A specimen was taken at San Angelo, Tex., January 1, 1883, but this must be considered as an accidental occurrence as the species at this season is usually found only in southern South America.