As the autumn days draw on the Lapwing becomes more gregarious, often forming into flocks of enormous size, which wander about a good deal as the varying weather affects their supply of food. This, in winter, consists chiefly of worms, grubs, molluscs, crustaceans, and other small marine creatures; in summer, seeds, shoots of herbage, and various ground fruits and berries are added. The Lapwing in its movements on the ground is light and elegant, running and walking well, standing high upon its legs, but it seldom seems to wade, and never, so far as I know, attempts to swim under any normal circumstances. Great numbers of Lapwings are killed for the table, but the flesh cannot be compared with that of the Golden Plover, being not only dark in appearance, but unpleasant in taste, especially after the birds have resided long in littoral haunts.
The Lapwing at the approach of spring retires inland to breed, visiting for the purpose moors, rough lands, water meadows, pastures, and grain fields. The nesting habits of this species are certainly better known than those of any other member of the Plover tribe, at least, as far as British birds are concerned. Every person at all familiar with the common objects of the country, knows the nest of the Lapwing, and must time and again have been amused with the bird’s erratic behaviour, as its breeding grounds are invaded by human intruders. The nest is always made upon the ground, generally in a hollow of some kind, often in the footprints of cattle and horses. Sometimes it is cunningly hidden beneath a tuft of rushes or hassock of sedge and grass; whilst the summit of a mole-hill is not rarely chosen. The hollow is lined with a few bits of the dry and withered surrounding herbage; and in many cases even this slight provision is omitted. The four eggs (five have been recorded!) very like pears in shape, are buffish-brown or pale olive in ground colour, handsomely blotched and spotted, especially on the larger half, with blackish-brown, paler brown, and gray. If the flesh of the Lapwing is not held in very high repute its eggs make ample amends for the deficiency. Vast numbers are systematically gathered for the table; and as the birds will replace their stolen eggs again and again, the harvest may be prolonged over several weeks. The first eggs are laid in April; in more northern localities not before May. In the early days of the Plover egg season, these commodities frequently realise as much as twelve shillings per dozen, and are a source of profit to many a dweller in country districts. Dogs are sometimes trained to search for them. When the young are hatched the Lapwing displays many curious tricks to lure enemies from them, feigning death or broken wings, or swooping with loud cries to and fro.
TURNSTONE
It is rather a remarkable fact that this species, the Strepsilas interpres of naturalists, does not breed in the British Islands. Some naturalists have suspected that it does so on the Hebrides, and it has been said to nest on the Channel Islands, but no direct proof has yet been obtained. Under exceptional circumstances the Turnstone may be met with inland, especially during the season of its migrations, but otherwise it is strictly a coast-bird, as much so as the Oyster-catcher, and rears its young upon the shore. This somewhat singular bird is met with on the British coasts, most commonly during its passage north or south, comparatively few individuals remaining upon them for the winter. The Turnstone cannot readily be confused with any other coast bird, its mottled black and chestnut upper parts, black throat and breast, and white belly, being very distinctive. The wings and tail during flight exhibit a good deal of white upon them. Turnstones, chiefly young birds, begin to arrive on the British coasts at the end of July, and the migration of the species continues through August and September; the return passage in spring may be remarked towards the end of April, and lasts for about a month. Mud-flats, slob-lands, and salt-marshes are not frequented much by the Turnstone; it always prefers the low rocky coasts, and seems specially fond of haunting rocks and islands. Social to a great extent in summer, in winter this bird is more or less gregarious; but many odd individuals attach themselves to parties of other shore-frequenting species. An example now lying before me was shot from the company of Common Sandpipers. The Turnstone is a restless little creature, ever on the run in quest of food. It may be watched hunting about the beaches, or running amongst pebbles, and over the piles of drifted rubbish that the tide washes up in a long irregular line along the shore. In watching the actions of this bird, the observer cannot fail to remark its singular habit of turning over shells and other objects, in quest of the small marine creatures that lurk under them, with its conical shaped beak, and perhaps occasionally with its breast as well. This peculiarity has gained for the Turnstone its trivial name. Not only does it run about the sand and rocks, but it frequently wades, and has even been seen to swim just outside the line of breakers, rising from time to time, flying a little way and then settling upon the water again. The flight of this bird is not very rapid, and generally taken close to the ground; its note is a shrill whistle, resembling the syllable keet. During the love season this note is run into a rapid trill. The food of the Turnstone is composed of sand-worms, crustaceans, molluscs, and other small marine animals.
The Turnstone changes its haunts but little during the breeding season. It rears its young on the beaches or on rocky islets, placing its nest amongst the scanty marine herbage, beneath the shelter of a tuft of grass or a little bush. This is merely a hollow lined with a few bits of dry grass or other vegetation. The four eggs are olive-green or pale buff in ground colour, blotched, spotted, and clouded with olive-brown, dark reddish-brown, and violet-gray. But one brood is reared in the year, and the eggs are laid in June. As soon as the young are able to fly the movement south begins. The Turnstone breeds throughout the northern parts of the Nearctic and Palæarctic regions, as far as land is known to extend. Its nearest breeding stations to the British Islands are in Denmark, on some of the Baltic Islands, and in Iceland. During winter it visits the coasts of almost every part of the world, south of the Arctic circle.
PHALAROPES
But three species of the genus Phalaropus are known, and two of these are British birds, one of them the Red-necked Phalarope, P. hyperboreus, breeding very sparingly and locally within our limits, the other the Gray Phalarope, P. fulicarius, a more or less regular visitor to our coasts in autumn and winter. From many points of view the Phalaropes are very interesting birds. They are distinguished from all other Limicoline forms by the structure of the feet, which are lobed like those of the Coot – a peculiarity which induced Edwards, in 1741, to describe a Phalarope as the “Coot-footed Tringa.” They are by far the most aquatic of the Charadriidæ, swimming as readily as Gulls or Ducks, and often going for hundreds of miles out on to the open sea; indeed they spend most of their time upon the water, only visiting land for any lengthened period during the breeding season.
There can be little doubt that the Gray Phalarope is a more abundant visitor to British waters, in autumn and winter, than is generally supposed. It has little reason to visit land at all at such a season, unless driven towards it by exceptionally severe weather. Occasionally, however, this Phalarope has occurred on our coasts in great numbers, something similar to the visitations of Sand Grouse, with which doubtless most readers are familiar. The autumn of 1866 is specially famous for a great “rush” of Gray Phalaropes to the British seas and coasts, and it is estimated that upwards of 500 were caught, of which large number nearly half occurred in Sussex! The most recent irruption of Gray Phalaropes was in 1886. The Gray Phalarope lives almost entirely out at sea, after the breeding season is over, wandering immense distances from land, and even accompanying whales, for the sake of catching the various small marine creatures disturbed by the “blowing” of those mighty animals – hence to the sailor it is often known as the “Whale Bird.” So hardy is this little bird, that it has been watched swimming about amongst icebergs far from land. It swims lightly and buoyantly as a foam fleck, with a peculiar bobbing motion of the head, but it is not known to dive. It apparently flies with reluctance, always preferring to swim out of danger. Its food principally consists of insects, but crustaceans, worms, and scraps of vegetable substances are eaten. The call note of this Phalarope is described as a shrill weet, and the alarm note, heard most frequently during flight, as a rapidly repeated bick-abick-a.
The Gray Phalarope is not known to breed anywhere on continental Europe, but does so in Spitzbergen, in Iceland, Greenland, and probably throughout all suitable parts of Arctic America and Asia, as far north as land extends. In winter it is very widely dispersed, even wandering as far as New Zealand. The Gray Phalarope is one of those species that change greatly in the colour of their plumage according to season. In winter dress – the plumage perhaps most familiar to British observers – the back is gray, and the under parts pure white; but in summer the whole of the latter are rich bright bay, and the feathers of the upper parts are dark brown with pale reddish-brown margins. In this plumage it is known as the Red Phalarope. Another interesting fact is that the female is much more brightly and richly coloured than the male, and the latter not only performs the duty of incubating the eggs, but takes the greater share in tending upon the young! It may thus be inferred that the pairing habits of this Phalarope are most singular, the female conducting the courtship! The Gray Phalarope remains practically gregarious throughout the year, breeding in colonies of varying size. Its favourite nesting-places are beside the marshy pools and lakes on the tundras, at no great distance from the Arctic Ocean. The nest is made upon the ground, and consists of a mere hollow in the moss or lichen, lined with a few dry leaves and grasses. The four pyriform eggs are pale buff, tinged with olive, blotched and spotted with dark brown and paler brown. At the nest the old Phalaropes are remarkably tame and confiding, showing little fear of man, but when the young are hatched often trying to delude him away by various deceptive antics. As soon as the young are sufficiently matured, the nesting-places are deserted, and young and old repair to the sea for the remainder of the year.
The second British species, the Red-necked Phalarope, is scarcely less known to the majority of people than the Gray Phalarope. It seldom visits the land except for breeding purposes, and as its nesting-places in our area are not only few, but in the remotest part of it, opportunities for observing its habits are few and fitful. It is a summer visitor to certain parts of the Outer Hebrides, to the Orkneys, and the Shetlands. Outside our limits its range is very extensive. It breeds in suitable localities throughout the Arctic regions of the New and Old Worlds, above the limits of forest growth; in winter it wanders far southwards, and is then found on the coasts of Europe, Southern Asia, Mexico, and Central America. Like the preceding species it is thoroughly marine in its choice of a haunt, but does not appear to wander for such great distances from land. It is just as tame and confiding, just as social in summer, and as gregarious in winter. It swims equally as well and buoyantly, with the same peculiar bobbing motion; whilst on the land it is able to run and walk with ease. It exhibits the same reluctance to take wing, preferring to retreat from danger by swimming, although it flies on occasion quickly and well. Its food is very similar, and its note is a shrill but rather low weet. As Professor Newton has remarked, both this and the preceding species of Phalarope are entrancingly interesting in their habits. “Their graceful form, their lively colouration, and the confidence with which both are familiarly displayed in their breeding-quarters can hardly be exaggerated, and it is equally a delightful sight to watch these birds gathering their food in the high-running surf, or, when that is done, peacefully floating outside the breakers.”2
So far as concerns Scotland, the breeding season of the Red-necked Phalarope commences in May, but in more Arctic localities it is deferred until several weeks later. It returns with unerring regularity to the old accustomed spots to rear its young. These are on the marshy moors, beside the pools, at no great distance from the sea. The nest, usually made on the ground, (in the valley of the Petchora it has been found in a hassock of coarse grass a foot or more above it), is a mere hollow lined with a few scraps of dead grass and rush. The four eggs are buff of various shades, or pale olive, spotted and blotched with amber and blackish-brown, pale brown and gray. As previously remarked the male bird incubates them. When disturbed at its breeding grounds, the Red-necked Phalarope slips off the nest and takes refuge in the water, manifesting little concern for its safety. As soon as the young are sufficiently matured, they and their parents resort to the sea, moving southwards as autumn advances, and for the most part keeping to the water until another nesting season comes round.
CURLEW
This species, (Numenius arquata), is not only the largest Limicoline bird that frequents the coast, but also one of the best known. There are few parts of the shore during autumn and winter where an odd Curlew cannot be found, whilst in some localities it may be classed as absolutely common. The Curlew is another of those species that present little difference between summer and winter plumage, and yet the haunts it selects in summer differ very considerably from those it seeks in winter. It is a resident in the British Islands, but its numbers are very considerably increased in autumn, by migrants from more northern latitudes. It may be found, as previously inferred, on almost all parts of the shore, but such beaches where wide expanses of sand, mud, and broken rocks occur, are specially preferred – as are also salt-marshes and wet meadows close to the sea. Of all wild fowl the Curlew is one of the wariest, never allowing a close approach unless stalked with the greatest care, or surprised in some unusual way, which does not often happen. In some districts where little beach is exposed during high-water, the Curlews will retire some distance inland, but return with remarkable punctuality as soon as the tide begins to ebb. Shingle banks and islands are also often visited between tides. Curlews when feeding are very restless birds, running and walking about the beach, seemingly in a very careless and unsuspecting manner, but sentinels are ever on the watch to sound the warning note, which sends the big long-billed speckled birds hurrying away to safer haunts. The Curlew feeds both by day and by night; and its wild somewhat mournful note, shrill and far-sounding, curlee, cur-lee, may repeatedly be heard during darkness. The flight of this bird is both rapid and well sustained. Gätke, on evidence which seems absolutely conclusive, estimates its speed on certain occasions to be not less than a mile a minute, and possibly very much more! Although the Curlew repeatedly wades, it is not known to swim under normal circumstances, but has occasionally been seen to perch in a tree. All through the autumn and winter the Curlew continues gregarious. It migrates in vast flocks, and frequently associates with other wild fowl, although it may be that these other and smaller species seek its company to profit by its extraordinary vigilance. Sand-worms, crustaceans, and molluscs form its principal food whilst living on the coast, but in summer, at its breeding-grounds, worms, grubs, insects, ground fruits, and berries are eaten. The European form of the Curlew is pretty generally distributed over the western half of the Palæarctic region, and in winter is found throughout Africa.
The Curlew begins to leave the coast for more or less inland haunts in March, scattering over most of our swampy moorlands and rough higher grounds to breed. The eggs are laid during April and May. The nest is invariably made upon the ground, and consists merely of a shallow cavity, lined with a few bits of withered herbage or dead leaves. Numbers of pairs often nest within a comparatively small area of suitable ground, and should one pair be disturbed, the entire community is soon thrown into a state of alarm. The four eggs of the Curlew vary from olive-green to buff, blotched and spotted with olive-brown and pale gray. The Curlew begins to wander coastwards as soon as the young are reared. By far the majority seen first are young birds, and these arrive from the middle of July onwards.
WHIMBREL
This species – which is the Numenius phæopus of systematists – is best known on the British coasts during its annual migrations, passing our islands so regularly that it has received the name of “May Bird.” On the Lincolnshire coast, as well as in many other districts, the Whimbrel is almost universally known as the “Jack-Curlew.” During its seasonal movements it visits most parts of the British coast-line, but mud-flats, salt-marshes, estuaries, and extensive reaches of sand, are the most favoured localities. Its habits are very similar to those of the Curlew – a bird which it somewhat closely resembles in general appearance, although it is much smaller. It is also a less wary bird, especially upon its arrival; much stalking, however, soon teaches it shyness. Perhaps the Whimbrel is not so often seen on the actual beach as the Curlew; it seems to prefer to resort to slob-lands, and swampy meadows adjoining the beach. It not only wades, but is said even to swim occasionally, and is fond of bathing, throwing the water over itself as it stands breast-high in the sea. In autumn and winter the Whimbrel is certainly gregarious, but its gatherings are never so large on our coasts as those of the Curlew. This, however, is entirely due to local causes, for Gätke reports that on the bright warm days of April and May they pass over Heligoland in successive flocks, at a vast height, and flying at a tremendous speed. On migration the note of the Whimbrel may be described as a shrill hee-hee-hee. Its food, during its sojourn in small numbers on the British coasts, consists principally of crustaceans, sand-worms, and molluscs.
The Whimbrel is a later breeder than the Curlew. During the nesting season it is one of the most local of our birds, and is only known to nest on North Ronay – one of the Hebrides – the Orkneys, and the Shetlands. Its favourite breeding-grounds are the wild moors, at no great distance from the sea. Although not gregarious during summer, many pairs often nest on the same portion of the moors. The nest is made upon the ground, sometimes amongst heather, or beneath the shelter of a tuft of grass, and consists of a few bits of withered herbage, arranged carelessly in some slight hollow. The four eggs are very like those of the Curlew, but are much smaller. The bird’s actions at the nest are very similar to those of the preceding species. Outside the British limits, the breeding range of the typical Whimbrel reaches from Iceland and the Faröes, across Arctic Europe, whilst its winter home is in Africa.
GODWITS
These birds rank amongst the rarest and most local of the British species of Limicolæ, so that little more than a passing allusion to them is necessary in a work of the present character. One of them, the Black-tailed Godwit, Limosa melanura, formerly known as the “Yarwhelp” or “Barker,” used to breed regularly in some of the eastern counties of England, but for nearly fifty years now it has not been known to do so. The reclamation of its fenland haunts, and the practice of netting it during the breeding season, have probably been the chief causes of its extirpation. A few birds still continue to appear on our coasts, especially on the vast mud-flats and salt-marshes of East Anglia, during their annual migrations, and a few remain to winter. Outside our limits it nests in Iceland and the Faröes, and in Scandinavia; but its chief breeding-area extends across Europe, from Holland to the south of Russia. In winter it draws southwards, visiting the Mediterranean basin and parts of Africa. The Black-tailed Godwit appears on the British coasts on passage, during April and May, the return journey beginning in August, and lasting for about a month. In its habits it is very like the Curlew, picking up its food on the muds and marshes, walking deliberately to and fro, wading through the shallows, and sometimes standing in the water breast-high to sleep. Whilst on actual migration it is a restless bird, continually shifting its ground, but later in the year it becomes more settled, and will visit certain spots to feed with great regularity. Its food, whilst on our coasts, consists of insects (especially beetles), worms, crustaceans, and molluscs. Its call-note is a loud and shrill tyii-it. This Godwit breeds in May, making a slight nest on the ground, concealed amongst herbage, in which it lays four pyriform eggs, olive-brown, spotted with darker brown and gray.
The second and smaller species, the Bar-tailed Godwit, Limora rufa, is certainly the best known, and by far the most abundant. So far as my observations extend, this Godwit occurs in greatest numbers on the mud-flats and salt-marshes of the Wash, where it is known in some places as the “Scamell.” There it is often taken in the flight-nets, and it is a well-known bird to the gunners of the coast. This Godwit passes along the British seaboard towards the end of April, and early in May, returning from the end of August up to the first week in November. According to Professor Newton the 12th of May is known as “Godwit day” on the south coast of England, because about that date large flocks of this bird arrive thereon, on their passage north. Whilst with us its habits are much the same as those of the preceding species. It is gregarious throughout the winter, and often associates with other shore-haunting birds. Both these Godwits are readily distinguished from other Limicoline species on the British coasts by their long and recurved bills. They also present much diversity between summer and winter plumage. The most marked difference is seen in the colour of the underparts, which the present species changes from white in winter to rich chestnut in summer, whilst in the Black-tailed Godwit the chestnut characteristic of the breeding season is confined to the neck and breast. It is only in summer plumage that the tail of the Bar-tailed Godwit is barred; in winter it is uniform ash-brown. Upon its first arrival on our shores the Bar-tailed Godwit is often remarkably tame, admitting a close approach. It is very fond of frequenting the creeks and dykes that intersect the salt-marshes and muds, and during high water often goes inland a little way to wait for the ebb. The food of this Godwit consists of worms, crustaceans, molluscs, and similar marine creatures. The note resembles the syllables kyă-kyă-kyă, often very persistently repeated as the birds fly up and down the coast. In its quest for food it frequently wades, but never swims nor dives, unless wounded.
But little is known respecting the nidification of the Bar-tailed Godwit, and its eggs, very rare in collections, have hitherto only been obtained in Lapland. These so closely resemble those of the preceding species, that no known point of distinction can be given.
REDSHANK
During the greater part of the year this species – the Totanus calidris of modern naturalists – resides upon the coasts, retiring to more or less inland districts to breed. There are few prettier and more graceful birds along the shore than the Redshank, distinguished by its long orange-red legs, and white lower back, rump, and secondaries – the latter marbled with brown at the base. In the breeding season the grayish-brown upper plumage, and the white breast characteristic of winter, are mottled with rich dark brown. In autumn our resident Redshanks are largely increased in numbers by migratory individuals from more northerly latitudes; many of these pass on to winter quarters further south, but many others remain with us for the winter. Sociable at all times, and freely consorting with other Limicoline species on the coast, in winter, especially, the Redshank becomes very gregarious. Its favourite haunts are mud-flats and salt-marshes, and it is here that the largest flocks congregate, but many odd birds frequent coasts of a more rocky character. Redshanks are sprightly, restless birds, almost constantly in motion when on the feed, and scattering far and wide, running to and fro with dainty action, wading through the little pools, and even occasionally swimming the shallows between one mud-bank and another. They are ever alert, and take wing as soon as danger threatens, the scattered flock soon forming into a compact mass again. Between the tides Redshanks often collect on some mud-bank, where in a serried throng they keep up a confused babel of subdued cries, as if all were talking and none listening. Its flight is rapid and most unsteady looking – the black and white wings producing an idea of irregularity which is more imaginary than real. Upon the coast the Redshank feeds on sand-worms, crustaceans, molluscs, and such like marine creatures, but during summer at its breeding-grounds, worms, insects, ground-fruits and berries are among the substances sought. The call note of this wader is a loud shrill tyü-tyü most persistently repeated when the bird is excited or alarmed; whilst during the pairing season the love song or trill is happily described by Professor Newton – who has had exceptional opportunities for observing this species – as a constantly repeated leero-leero-leero, accompanied with many gesticulations, as he hovers in attendance on the flight of his mate; “or with a slight change to a different key, engages with a rival; or again, half angrily and half piteously, complains of a human intruder on his chosen ground.”3
The Redshank breeds somewhat locally in the marshy districts of our islands, perhaps most commonly in the low-lying eastern counties of England, and in Scotland. It is one of the earliest waders to quit the coast in spring, and to retire to its nesting places, which are fen and marsh lands, swampy moors, and the boggy shores of lochs and tarns. Numbers of nests may be found within a small area of suitable ground, and certain spots appear to be visited annually for breeding purposes, in some cases even after the district, by reclamation, has lost its original marshy character. The nest is slight, but usually well concealed, often beneath the shade of a tuft of grass or other herbage, or in a hassock of sedge or under a little bush or tall weed. It consists of a mere hollow scantily lined with a few bits of withered grass or leaves. The four eggs are very pyriform in shape, and vary from pale buff to dark buff, handsomely and boldly blotched and spotted with rich dark brown, paler brown and gray. When disturbed the old birds become very noisy and excited, careering wildly to and fro, and should the young be hatched they become even more demonstrative, and by various antics seek to decoy an intruder away. A return to the coast is made as soon as the young are sufficiently matured. Many eggs of this bird are gathered and sold as “Plover’s eggs.”
SANDERLING
During the period of its spring and autumn migrations – especially the latter – this pretty little bird, the Tringa arenaria of ornithologists who ignore the genus Calidris, named first by Cuvier in 1800, and formally founded eleven years later by Illiger, established as it is on such a trivial character (all things considered) as the absence of a minute and functionless hind toe – is one of the commonest and most widely distributed of Limicoline birds. Comparatively few individuals remain on our coast to winter, and these collect more especially on the southern beaches. In winter plumage – the dress in which it is most familiar to British observers – the Sanderling is a delicate silvery-gray above and pure white below; but in the breeding season, although the underparts remain unchanged in colour, the upper parts become mottled with chestnut and black. Comparatively few Sanderlings reach the British coasts before August, and the southward migration continues during September. By the middle of the latter month the bulk of the individuals has passed beyond our limits; by the end of October but few remain, although some of these prolong their stay over the winter. The return migration begins in April, and lasts over May into June. There can be little doubt that the Sanderling migrates by night. Few birds are more trustful and engaging than this pretty little Arctic stranger. It not only frequents the long reaches of sand, but mud-flats, estuaries, and the creeks and streams in salt-marshes; its favourite haunts, however, are the sands. During its sojourn on our coast it consorts in flocks of varying size; and very frequently a small party attach themselves to a larger gathering of Dunlins, or Ringed Plovers. Indeed for the society of the latter birds the Sanderling shows a strongly marked preference. We may safely say that, during the migration period, most large bunches of Ringed Plovers contain a varying number of Sanderlings. Its actions on the sand are very similar to those of the Ringed Plover, but it does not appear ever to run in such fits and starts, searching the ground more systematically, after the manner of a Stint or a Dunlin. During high water the Sanderling very often resorts to the higher shingle, and skulks amongst the pebbles, sometimes remaining unseen until nearly trodden upon, so closely does its white and gray dress resemble the stones among which it nestles. Upon the dark muds and the wet shining brown sands it is much more conspicuous; and there are few prettier sights along the shore than a scattered flock of Sanderlings, standing head towards the observer, looking like so many white balls of animated snow. It searches for its food by running to and fro about the beach, often on the very margin of the spent waves, sometimes wading through the shallows, or quickly dodging the foam-flecked in-driving surf. Its food consists of sand-worms, crustaceans, various insects and great quantities of small molluscs. In summer, however, it is almost exclusively insectivorous, but also feeds on the buds of the Arctic saxifrages. The note of this bird during its sojourn on our coasts is a shrill whit, but this is not very frequently or persistently uttered.