In fresh juvenal plumage, in August, the feathers of the crown, mantle, and scapulars are black, broadly edged with "ochraceous tawny"; the tertials, median wing coverts, upper tail coverts, and tail feathers are narrowly edged with paler shades of buff; the lesser wing coverts are narrowly edged with white; the forehead, lores, neck all around, upper breast, and flanks are suffused with grayish brown, varying from "fawn color" or "wood brown," on the throat, neck, and breast, to "vinaceous buff" on the head and flanks; the rest of the under parts are pure white. The sexes are alike in juvenal and winter plumages.
The tawny edgings of the upper plumage soon fade and wear away before the postjuvenal molt begins during August. I have seen birds in full juvenal plumage as late as September 15; the molt is usually not completed until late in October, but I have seen it well advanced by the middle of August. This molt includes nearly all of the contour plumage, but not the wings and tail, so that first-winter birds can be distinguished from adults by the juvenal wing coverts and tail.
The first prenuptial molt occurs mainly in April and May; it is sometimes completed by the last week in May, but more often not until early June; I have seen the full first-winter plumage retained until May 21. This molt involves the entire contour plumage, some wing coverts, and the tail; so that young birds in first nuptial plumage closely resemble adults and can be distinguished only by the presence of some old juvenal wing coverts. The sexes are quite unlike in this plumage and are probably ready to breed. Certain females, in which the black crown and white cheek patches are obscured with buff and rufous tints, but are otherwise in full plumage, are perhaps young birds.
At the following molt, the first postnuptial, the adult winter plumage is acquired, characterized by the bluish-gray mantle and the white under parts. This molt is complete; it begins in July and is sometimes completed in August, but more often it is prolonged into September or later. Adults have a partial molt in the spring, from March to May, involving the contour feathers, the tail, some of the tertials, and some of the wing coverts; the remiges are not molted, and some of the old scapulars are retained. The adult postnuptial molt, from July to December, is complete.
Food.—During the month or so that they are on their northern breeding grounds the red phalaropes are shore birds, feeding in the tundra pools or along the shores, but during the rest of the year they are essentially sea birds, feeding on or about the floating masses of kelp or seaweeds, or following the whales or schools of large fish; hence they are aptly called "sea geese," "whale birds," or "bowhead birds." They occasionally come in to brackish pools near the shore or rarely are seen on the sandy beaches or mud flats feeding with other shore birds. Outlying rocky islands are often favorite feeding places. Ludwig Kumlien (1879) writes:
Whalemen always watch these birds while they are wheeling around high in the air in graceful and rapid circles, for they know that as soon as they sight a whale blowing they start for him, and from their elevated position they can, of course, discern one at a much greater distance than the men in the boat I doubt if it be altogether the marine animals brought to the surface by the whale that they are after, for if the whale remains above the surface any length of time they always settle on his back and hunt parasites. One specimen was brought me by an Eskimo that he had killed on the back of an Orca gladiator; the esophagus was fairly crammed with Laernodipodian crustaceans, still alive, although the bird had been killed some hours; they looked to me like Caprella phasma and Cyamus ceti. According to the Eskimo who killed it, the birds were picking something from the whale's back, I have often seen them dart down among a school of Delphinapterous leucas and follow them as far as I could see. On one occasion a pair suddenly alighted astern of my boat and were not 3 feet from me at times; they followed directly in the wake of the boat, and seemed so intent on picking up food that they paid no attention whatever to us. They had probably mistaken the boat for a whale.
In northeastern Greenland, Manniche (1910) saw them hunt flying insects on land; he also says:
Some 20 analyses of stomachs proved that the phalaropes in the breeding season chiefly feed on small insects, principally gnats and larvae of these. The esophagus and stomachs of several birds killed were filled with larvae of gnats, which in vast multitudes live in the fresh-water ponds. In a few stomachs I also found fine indeterminable remnants of plants (Algae?).
W. Leon Dawson (1923) describes their feeding habits at the Farallones, as follows:
Three red phalaropes, all female I take it, although none of them in highest plumage, and one northern, also a female, just under "high," are pasturing at my feet in a brackish pool some 20 feet long, 10 feet wide, and 2 feet deep. The waters of the pool teem with a minute reddish crustacean (?) shaped like an ant, less than a thirty-second of an inch in length and incredibly nimble. The insects progress by leaps, and are visible only at the moment of arrival. Yet these birds gobble them up one at a time with unerring accuracy and with a rapidity which is nothing short of marvelous. The reds work habitually at the rate of five dabs per second, i. e., 300 a minute, while the northern, with a longer beak and a much daintier motion, works only half as fast.
The following observation was made on a California beach by Roland C. Ross (1922):
Kelp flies seemed to satisfy its sporting instincts and hunger, and the bird stalked them slowly and pointedly one by one. With bill and neck outstretched and lowered in line with a fly on the sand, a slow advance was made until with a pounce the hunt closed. If the fly escaped, the phalarope sometimes ran after it, bill out. Another pose interested me. On finding a kelp mass decaying and drawing flies, the phalarope approached closely and so low that his breast touched the ground, but the rear of the bird was high up. At times he would remain with breast down and pick at the flies much as a dusting fowl picks up a stray grain. Mr. L. E. Wyman reported similar "breast to ground" actions of two phalaropes he saw feeding by a kelp mass on the beach.
Alexander Wetmore (1925), in his report on the food of the red phalarope, analyzed the contents of 36 stomachs, mainly from the Pribilof Islands, with some from New York and Maine; they were collected from May to November, but mainly in August. Crustaceans made up 33.5 per cent of the food; beetles amounted to 27.3 per cent; flies formed 22.7 per cent; and 6.8 per cent consisted of tiny fishes, mostly sculpins. The food of this species therefore shows it to be harmless or neutral.
Behavior.—Phalaropes are active, lively birds in all their movements and they seem to be constantly on the move. They are all rapid fliers and this species is decidedly the swiftest on the wing of all three. As the restless flocks move about over the water, their aerial evolutions are well worth watching. Lucien M. Turner, in his Labrador notes, writes that he has seen them "ascend to a great height in increasing circles, darting in and out among each other and making a peculiar twitter as they ascend. When some suitable locality is discerned these birds descend almost perpendicularly and drop on the water as softly as a feather." They are so much like sandpipers in appearance and in manner of flight that one is always surprised to see them alight on the water.
Perhaps even more surprising than their peculiar marital relations are their aquatic habits. Their semipalmated and lobed toes are well adapted for swimming and the thick, compact plumage of their under parts protects them and buoys them up on the water. They float as lightly as corks, or as freshly fallen autumn leaves on a woodland pool, swimming swiftly and whirling rapidly, undisturbed by rushing currents or by foaming breakers. William Brewster (1925) has well described the behavior of a red phalarope on an inland stream at Umbagog Lake, Me.; he writes:
I strolled across a suspension footbridge that spans Bear River here, a shallow stream rippling over a rocky bed scarce 50 feet in width, beneath overhanging yellow birches and other deciduous trees. Returning a few minutes later I had reached the middle of the bridge when a grayish bird started directly under it and flew off down stream for a few rods, skimming close to the water and uttering a sharp whit, whit, which reminded me of the call of a spotted sandpiper concerned for the safety of its young. Almost at the first glance I recognized the bird as a red phalarope whose presence in such a place surprised me greatly, of course. Alighting, again, in the middle of the river it floated buoyantly and stemmed the swift current with apparent ease, although avoiding such exertion, whenever possible, by taking advantage of backward-flowing eddies. Presently it began working around the bases of some large boulders where it seemed to be obtaining abundant food by pecking rapidly and incessantly at their rough flanks, wetted by lapping waves. It also fed on the surface of the swirling eddies, paddling about very rapidly and in devious courses. It was most interesting to see a bird whose characteristic haunts, at least in autumn and winter, are boundless stretches of wind-swept ocean, thus disporting itself in a brawling mountain stream overarched by trees. Even a water ousel could not have appeared more perfectly at home there. Like most phalaropes this one was tame and confiding, but whenever I approached within 20 or 25 feet, it would rise and fly on a few yards, giving the whit call.
On land their movements are exceedingly rapid and graceful, though somewhat erratic; they run about excitedly with all the restless activity of sandpipers, nodding their heads with a pretty, dovelike motion. At such times they are remarkably tame, unsuspicious, and gentle birds; as they do not habitually come in contact with human beings, they are unafraid.
Voice.—The vocal performances of the red phalarope are not elaborate. As quoted above, Doctor Nelson (1887) describes its note as "a low and musical clink, clink, sounding very much like the noise made by lightly tapping together two small bars of steel." Mr. Brewster (1925) refers to the note as "an emphatic zip, zip, closely resembling that of Bonaparte's sandpiper ... but louder and mellower." Again he says: "Once they rose and flew about the pond precisely like small sandpipers, one of them uttering a peep-like tweet just as it left the water." Charles W. Townsend (1920) saw one which "emitted a whistle which was clear and pleasant at times, and again sharp and grating; at times the note could be expressed as a creak."
Field marks.—In its nuptial plumage the red phalarope can be easily recognized by its brilliant colors; the male is smaller, his colors are duller, and his breast is mixed with white. In its winter plumage, in which we usually see it, it is likely to be confused with the northern phalarope or the sanderling. It is larger than the former, more stockily built and has a shorter, thicker bill, which is yellowish at the base. From the sanderling it can be distinguished by the gray markings on the head and neck, which are mainly white in winter sanderlings, by the darker gray of the back and by the yellow at the base of the bill. Phalaropes are usually tame enough to allow close study of these details. John T. Nichols suggests to me the following additional field characters:
This phalarope holds its gray plumage well into the spring and adults quickly resume same when they go to sea in late summer. Around the first of August flocks offshore are in gray and white "winter" plumage, but a few birds have a peculiar pink tone appreciable on the underparts at fair range, apt to be strongest posteriorly, and which is diagnostic. It is caused by scattered old red feathers overlaid by the delicate tips of new white ones. The white wing stripe is somewhat broader in this than in the northern phalarope and in gray plumage the upper parts are of so pale a tone that the wing pattern appears faint, something as it does in the piping plover. What seems to be a late summer plumage of birds of the year, on the other hand, is less white than the corresponding one of the northern. As the bird sits on the water the sides of its neck, breast, and sides appear brownish (not red or pink), the only touch of whitish it shows is on the flanks. At close range a curved phalarope mark behind the eye is just indicated, corresponding to the bold contrasting mark in the northern.
Enemies.—Phalaropes are not considered game birds, as they are too small and too seldom seen in large numbers to warrant pursuing them; so man should not be counted among their enemies. On their Arctic breeding grounds they evidently have plenty of avian enemies, such as jaegers, gulls, and various gyrfalcons. Mr. Manniche (1910) writes:
The two phalaropes observed were evidently very much afraid of larger waders as for instance knots. Several times I saw them rush together in terror and lie motionless on the water with their heads pressed down to their backs until the supposed danger—a passing knot—was past; then they continued their meal or love-making. The only enemy of the full-grown birds is the gyrfalcon (Falco gyrfalco), which will surprise and capture them when lying on the water. This I succeeded in observing one day in summer 1907; just as I was observing a male phalarope, which swam along the beach of a little clear pond hardly two paces from my feet, I suddenly heard a strong whistling in the air and saw an old falcon, that from a dizzy height shot like an arrow towards the surface of the water, caught the phalarope and again rapidly rose in the air carrying the bird in its talons. I saw the bird of prey descend and settle on the summit of a rock near the bay in order to eat its prey. The method, with which the falcon carried out its exploit, proved that several phalaropes before had the same fate. The gyrfalcon can certainly not catch a phalarope in flight.
Nature, however, sometimes takes her toll, as the following observation on the coast of California reported by L. W. Welch (1922) will illustrate:
There was an unusual migration of red phalaropes (Phalaropus fulicarius) this past fall. I saw about three hundred within an hour on the ponds of the Long Beach Salt Works. This was October 30. There was a great mortality among them this year. Dead birds were brought to the schools picked up by children in the streets or elsewhere. On the ponds mentioned above, dead birds were washed up in windrows. I could count 19 from one position and 21 from another. I counted 75 within half an hour. The birds had no shot holes in them, and showed no external evidences of having flown against wires, but all the birds examined were emaciated in the extreme.
Mr. Brandt in his manuscript notes writes:
I was told that the natives look upon the flesh of the red phalarope as the greatest delicacy, and it is considered the choicest food that can be placed before an honored guest. The little native boys have, as their most prized mark, this red-brown target. Inasmuch as this bird inhabits the small ponds just outside the villages, the young hunters have always easily stalked game available. The children begin to hunt the red phalarope as soon as they are large enough to pull a bow string. The chase is so alluring that the older boys in my employ could not resist the temptation whenever presented, to grab a bow and arrow from the youngsters, and stalk this little bird. The chase is not one sided, however, as the phalarope is as quick as a flash, and like cupid's arrows, many shots fail to reach their mark.
Fall.—The red phalaropes are the last of the waders to leave their Arctic breeding grounds, lingering until the lakes and shores are closed with ice, often well into October. These loiterers are all young birds; the adults leave early and are sometimes seen off the coasts of the United States in July. F. S. Hersey and I collected one at Chatham, Mass., on July 4, 1921; this may have been a loiterer from the spring flight, but probably it was an early fall migrant.
The fall migration is usually well out at sea, often hundreds of miles from land. Kumlien (1879) writes:
These birds were met with at great distances from land. The first seen on our outward passage was on August 4, 1877, In latitude 41° N., longitude 68° W.; here large flocks were met with. As we proceeded northward, their numbers increased till we reached Grinnell Bay. Off the Amitook Islands, on the Labrador coast, 200 miles from the nearest land, I saw very large flocks during a strong gale.
William Palmer (1890) met with it in great abundance between Cape Sable and Cape Cod on August 30.
Off the coast of California the flight begins in July or early August and continues through the fall; a few birds linger through the winter from Monterey southward. Throughout the great interior of North America migration records are scattered, hardly more than casuals. It is interesting, however, to note that Audubon (1840) saw his first birds of this species on the Ohio River near Louisville, Kentucky, where he killed 17 at one shot. I have an adult male in my collection which was shot on the Taunton River, near my home, on August 12, 1913.
Winter.—Our knowledge of the winter home of our American birds of this species is rather meager. They have been traced as far south as the Falkland Islands in the Atlantic Ocean and Juan Fernandez in the Pacific. Probably they are scattered over the warmer portions of both oceans, wherever they can find an abundant food supply.
A number of phalaropes, almost certainly of this species, were observed by Mr. Nichols in the Atlantic, off Cape Lookout, March 22, 1926. "They may winter here or, what is equally likely, arrive in spring to find the same feed which attracts the mackerel to the capes of the Carolinas in March or April."
Aretas A. Saunders writes to me of a similar observation made by him off the coast of South Carolina on March 5, 1908:
That day red phalaropes were abundant on the water, though we were out of sight of land. The sea was calm with a glossy surface, but a slight swell and flocks of from 10 to 50 birds rose from in front of the boat, at intervals all morning. They flew in compact flocks, low over the water, and alighted again when some distance away.
Range.—Arctic regions of both Old and New Worlds; south in winter to South Africa, India, China, and southern South America.
Breeding range.—In the Old World the red phalarope breeds on the Arctic coast from Iceland east to Nova Zembla, the Taimur Peninsula, and the islands and coast of Siberia to Bering Sea. The race, jourdaini, breeds in Spitsbergen, Iceland, and eastern Greenland.
In the Western Hemisphere the breeding range extends north to Alaska (probably St. Lawrence Island, Cape Prince of Wales, Cape Lowenstern, Point Barrow, and the Colville delta); Mackenzie (Rendezvous Lake and Franklin Bay); northern Franklin (Bay of Mercy, Winter Harbor, and Cape Liverpool); Grinnell Island (Fort Conger); and Greenland (Disco Bay, Godhavn, and probably Christianshaab). East to Greenland (Stormkap and probably Christianshaab); eastern Franklin (Exeter Sound, probably Nugumeute and Grinnell Bay); and Ungava (Port Burwell). South to Ungava (Port Burwell and probably Prince of Wales Sound); southern Franklin (Southampton Island and Cape Fullerton); and Alaska (Fort Egbert and Hooper Bay). West to Alaska (Hooper Bay, St. Michael, and probably St. Lawrence Island).
Winter range.—In the Eastern Hemisphere the winter range of the red phalarope seems to be principally at sea off the southern coast of Arabia and the west coast of Africa.
At this season in the Western Hemisphere it has been taken or observed north to Lower California (La Paz and Cape San Lucas); off the coast of Southern California (Point Pinos, Santa Cruz Islands, Anacapa Island, and San Diego); Alabama (Pickett Springs); Florida (Canaveral Light); and South Carolina (Mount Pleasant); and south to southern South America (Falkland Islands, Patagonia, and Chile).
Spring migration.—Early dates of arrival in North America are: North Carolina, Cape Lookout, May 29; Delaware, seen off the coast, May 9; New Jersey, Cape May, May 3, and Ocean City, May 6; New York, Shelter Island, March 25, and Montauk Point, April 30; Connecticut, Bridgeport, May 30; Massachusetts, Gloucester, April 2; Maine, York Beach, May 8; Nova Scotia, Halifax, June 10; Quebec, Prince of Wales Sound, May 31; Washington, Destruction Island lighthouse, May 8; and Alaska, Cape Constantine, May 15, Kodiak Island, May 16, near Kotlik, May 28, Prince Frederick Sound, May 29, and Point Barrow, June 3.
Fall migration.—Late dates of departure in the fall are: Alaska, Chatham Straits, September 9, Becharof Lake, October 6, Point Barrow, October 10, St. Michael, October 14, and Kodiak Island, November 4; Washington, Ilwaco, November 9, and Shoalwater Bay, November 24; California, Berkeley, October 27, Point Reyes, November 22, and Santa Barbara, November 30; Labrador, West Ste. Modiste, September 13; Prince Edward Island, North River, November 20; Nova Scotia, off the coast, September 16; Maine, Westbrook, September 26, Old Orchard, October 5, and Portland, October 16; Massachusetts, North Truro, October 15, near Nantucket, October 25, and Boston, December 30; Connecticut, Portland, October 21, and East Haven, November 24; New York, Oneida Lake, October 4, Branchport, October 12, Orient Point, October 15, Cayuga Lake, October 18, and Montauk Point, November 27; Maryland, White's Ferry, October 4; District of Columbia, Anacostia River, October 17; and Virginia, Blacksburg, September 21.
Casual records.—The red phalarope is rare or irregular anywhere in the interior but it has nevertheless been detected over wide areas on several occasions. Among these records are: Vermont, Woodstock, November 10, 1916; Pennsylvania, Bucks County, December 15, 1918; Ohio, Painesville, November 9, 1923; Ontario, Ottawa, October 21, 1886, and Hamilton, November 17, 1882; Michigan, Monroe, October 24, 1888, and October 25, 1890; Indiana, Jasper County, April 10, 1885, and Terre Haute, October 23, 1889; Wisconsin, Lake Koshkonong, September 3, 1891, Delavan, October 11, 1902, and near Cedar Grove, October 8, 1921; Kentucky, near Louisville, latter part of October, 1808; South Dakota, one taken near Rapid City (date unknown); Kansas, near Lawrence, November 5, 1905; Wyoming, Laramie Plains, fall of 1897; Colorado, Loveland, July 25, 1895; and Texas, Wise County, September 26, 1893. It also has been taken once in New Zealand, at Waimate, South Island, in June, 1883.
Egg dates.—Alaska: 152 records, May 25 to July 13; 76 records, June 14 to 30. Arctic Canada: 14 records, June 21 to July 14; 7 records, June 24 to July 6. Spitsbergen: 22 records, June 24 to July 18; 11 records, June 28 to July 11. Iceland: 17 records, June 1 to 25; 9 records, June 14 to 22.
This is the smallest, the most abundant, and the most widely distributed of the phalaropes; consequently it is the best known. Its breeding range is circumpolar, but extends much farther south than that of the red phalarope; it might be called sub-Arctic rather than Arctic. There seems to be only one homogeneous species around the world. It resembles the red phalarope in its habits, but is more often seen on inland waters than is that species.
Spring.—Countless thousands of these dainty little birds migrate northward off both coasts of North America in May, but very few ever come ashore except in bad weather. While cruising off the coast, 10 or more miles from land, one is likely to see them flying about in flocks, after the manner of small sandpipers, flitting about and alighting on drifting masses of seaweed or other flotsam, or swimming lightly on the smooth surface of the sea, darting hither and thither in a most erratic way, each seemingly intent on gathering its tiny bits of food. They are gentle, graceful, and charming little birds and well worth watching.
There is also a heavy northward migration through the interior during May. In Saskatchewan I saw a large flock at Quill Lake on May 28, 1917; and in the Crane Lake region we recorded it as an abundant migrant; it was seen migrating, on May 29, 1905, in large flocks with sanderlings; one was seen at Hay Lake on June 15; and two were taken on June 14, 1906, at Big Stick Lake, which were in breeding condition. C. G. Harrold writes to me that it is a common and rather late migrant in Manitoba. William Rowan's notes contain several references to the enormous flocks which pass Beaverhill Lake, Alberta, in May, mostly during the last two weeks.
Dr. E. W. Nelson (1887) has given us the following attractive account of the arrival of these birds in northern Alaska:
As summer approaches on the Arctic shores and coast of Bering Sea the numberless pools, until now hidden under a snowy covering, become bordered or covered with water; the mud about their edges begins to soften, and through the water the melting ice in the bottom looks pale green. The ducks and geese fill the air with their loud resounding cries, and the rapid wing strokes of arriving and departing flocks add a heavy bass to the chorus which greets the opening of another glad season in the wilds of the cheerless north. Amid this loud-tongued multitude suddenly appears the graceful, fairylike form of the northern phalarope. Perhaps, as the hunter sits by the border of a secluded pool still half covered with snow and ice, a pair of slight wings flit before him, and there, riding on the water, scarcely making a ripple, floats this charming and elegant bird. It glides hither and thither on the water, apparently drifted by its fancy, and skims about the pool like an autumn leaf wafted before the playful zephyrs on some embosomed lakelet in the forest. The delicate tints and slender fragile form, combining grace of color and outline with a peculiarly dainty elegance of motion, render this the most lovely and attractive among its handsome congeners.
The first arrivals reach St. Michaels in full plumage from May 14 to 15, and their number is steadily augmented, until, the last few days of May and 1st of June, they are on hand in full force and ready to set about the season's cares. Every pool now has from one to several pairs of these birds gliding in restless zigzag motion around its border, the slender necks at times darting quickly right or left as the bright black eyes catch sight of some minute particle of food. They may be watched with pleasure for hours, and present a picture of exquisite gentleness which renders them an unfailing source of interest. The female of this bird, as is the case with the two allied species, is much more richly colored than the male and possesses all the "rights" demanded by the most radical reformers.
Courtship.—The same gifted writer goes on to say:
As the season comes on when the flames of love mount high, the dull-colored male moves about the pool, apparently heedless of the surrounding fair ones. Such stoical indifference usually appears too much for the feelings of some of the fair ones to bear. A female coyly glides close to him and bows her head in pretty submissiveness, but he turns away, pecks at a bit of food and moves off; she follows and he quickens his speed, but in vain; he is her choice, and she proudly arches her neck and in mazy circles passes and repasses close before the harassed bachelor. He turns his breast first to one side, then to the other, as though to escape, but there is his gentle wooer ever pressing her suit before him. Frequently he takes flight to another part of the pool, all to no purpose. If with affected indifference he tries to feed, she swims along side by side, almost touching him, and at intervals rises on wing above him and, poised a foot or two over his back, makes a half dozen quick, sharp wing strokes, producing a series of sharp, whistling noises in rapid succession. In the course of time it is said that water will wear the hardest rock, and it is certain that time and importunity have their full effect upon the male of this phalarope, and soon all are comfortably married, while mater familias no longer needs to use her seductive ways and charming blandishments to draw his notice.
Mrs. Audrey Gordon (1921) made some interesting observations on the courtship of the red-necked phalarope, as this species is called abroad; she writes of her experiences in the Hebrides:
Three pairs were apparently in process of courting and their behavior was most interesting. Both cocks and hens were swimming in the water near the shore or in pools among the rushes. Suddenly a hen would raise herself in the water and flutter her wings at a great pace with her head held down and neck outstretched, all the while uttering a curious harsh call. She would then pursue the cock rapidly through the water for a few yards as though trying to attract his attention. At times the cock rose from the water and flew round about the pool where the hen was, with a low erratic flight and very slow wing beats, calling as he flew. This display only lasted a minute, when he would again alight on the water. Once after this flight the hen followed him closely and he turned and seemed to be about to mate her, but she would not let him. I saw no more on this occasion, but on June 18 I watched two hens and one cock in a pool. One of the hens kept close to the cock and whenever the other hen came nearer she would chase her away. Both the cock and the hen were seen to stand up in the water and flutter their wings as described above. The cock seemed to pay little attention to the hens and was busy pursuing, and picking up off the water, large black flies. Then, without any warning or unusual excitement on the part of either cock or hen, the nearest one to the cock suddenly put her head low down in the water with neck outstretched and made a curious single note. The cock at once swam to her and mating took place, the hen being submerged in the water except for her beautiful red neck. The cock fluttered his wings all the time; he then went ashore into the grasses. The second hen still kept in the neighborhood, though I imagine she must have realized she had lost her chance of a mate.
P. H. Bahr (1907) throws some light on the peculiar sexual relations of this species; he says:
On the 5th of June we watched the phenomena of polygamy, and of attempted polyandry in this species. At one end of the loch the former condition held sway, two energetic and quarrelsome females having attached themselves to one miserable-looking male, and it was ludicrous to behold the awe in which he held them. Once in particular he nearly swam between my legs in his efforts to avoid their attentions. Till our departure on the 27th, these three birds were constantly to be seen together. At the other end of the loch two males were seen continuously circling round the head of a female. I frequently observed the male performing evolutions, which I have previously described as the "marriage flight." Zigzagging from side to side with amazing rapidity he would hover with dangling legs over the head of the female, who, circling placidly in the water, appeared to take no notice of his attentions. Then settling beside her he would peck and chase her as if endeavoring to make her take to flight. Failing in this he would dash off once more across the marsh uttering a warbling sort of song much like that of the ringed plover. Then he would settle in a reedy spot, such as would be chosen for the nesting site, and would call vigorously, looking always in the direction of the female, as if expecting her to follow. I observed several pairs, behaving in this manner, and such was their fervor that the males continued this performance even in the midst of one of the worst storms we experienced. Often the female would resent these attentions, and a pitched battle would ensue.
Herbert W. Brandt (mss.) writes:
It is very interesting to watch a struggle between two female northern phalaropes over a solitary male. They fight by the hour, not after the manner of the males, which rush at each other and boldly lock in a mortal combat, but rather these females fight by flipping their wings and pecking at each other instead of laying hold with determination. This can be likened only to a feminine hair-pulling episode. One day I watched such a combat for an hour, and there were numerous occasions on which I thought that one of the birds would succumb; but the contest seemed to be very equal, and when a bird recovered from a hard onslaught it would return at once and take up the wing sparring. They would flutter here and there over the ground, first one then the other attacking, closely followed all the time by the shy but neutral male, the prize of the conflict. Natives informed me that they had never known of one's being killed by the other, but that the birds would fight all day long.
Nesting.—My personal experience with the nesting habits of the northern phalarope has been limited to what few nests we found in the Aleutian Islands in 1911. These birds were very scarce or entirely absent in the eastern half of the chain. We saw a few on Atka Island where several nests, with fresh eggs or incomplete sets, were found on June 18. On Kiska Island they were really abundant and we found them breeding about the small grassy ponds and wet meadows; fresh eggs were found on June 21. Their favorite resorts all through the western part of the chain were the wetter portions of the flat alluvial plains, near the mouths of the streams and about the marshy ponds. They were very tame everywhere and, about the ponds where they were breeding, they were very solicitous and noisy. Their simple nests were merely deep, little hollows, lined with a few bits of grass, in the little mounds or tussocks in the wet meadows around the borders of the ponds or near the small streams.
F. S. Hersey collected several sets of eggs for me near St. Michael, Alaska, in 1914 and 1915; most of the nests were in rather wet situations on the tundra, in or near marshy places, rather poorly concealed and scantily lined with grasses; others were well hidden in the clumps of scanty grass, or deeply sunken into the tundra mosses and lined with bits of leaves or well lined with grasses. Other observers have described the nesting habits of this species substantially as indicated above, except that Henry H. Slater (1898), who has "encountered 45 nests with eggs in them in one day, and considerably more than a hundred altogether", describes the nest as "a deep comfortable cup, concealed in a tuft of grass, or under a trailing branch of some dwarf Arctic shrub."
Eggs.—The northern phalarope lays four eggs almost invariably, rarely three eggs constitute a second set; as many as five and even seven eggs have been found in a nest, the largest number being the product of two females. The eggs vary in shape from subpyriform to ovate pyriform, are slightly glossy and are very fragile. The prevalent ground colors range from "pale olive buff" to "dark olive buff" or "ecru olive;" "olive buff" seems to be the commonest shade. In richly colored sets the colors range from "Isabella color," or "Dresden brown" to "buckthorn brown;" and in light buffy sets from "cream buff" to "cream color." The size, type, and arrangement of markings vary greatly in endless patterns. Some eggs, perhaps only one in a set, are evenly covered with small spots or dots, but more often these are mixed with larger, irregular spots or blotches. Some eggs are boldly marked with large irregular blotches. The colors of the markings range from "sepia," or "warm sepia," and "bister" to deep blackish brown, depending on the depth of the pigment. The underlying spots, in various drab shades, are small, inconspicuous and not numerous. In my series of over 50 sets there are two abnormal eggs; one is plain bluish white and unmarked; and another is similar except for one large blotch of "sepia" covering the large end. The measurements of 119 eggs, in the United States National Museum, average 29 by 20 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 33 by 21, 28 by 22.5, 27 by 19, and 31 by 18.5 millimeters.
Young.—The period of incubation does not seem to be definitely known, but probably it is not far from 21 days. A set of four eggs found by H. B. Conover on June 10 hatched on the evening of June 30. Incubation is performed largely, but perhaps not wholly, by the male. H. H. Slater (1898) writes:
Jerdon asserts that the females (of all the phalaropes presumably) leave the care of the nests to the males and lead a club life in separate flocks. In the present species I have not found the sex to be so much "emancipated." I have never shot the red-necked phalarope off the nest, often as I have had a chance to do so, nor have I seen bare hatching spots on the breasts of either sex. I have no doubt that the males are the most attentive parents, but in the case of isolated nests the second bird makes its appearance before you have been there long, and I have repeatedly seen both with the young. In fact, I should have said that of all the birds I know the present species is the most connubial, and the mutual devotion of a pair is a most charming thing to see—in fact, quite touching. When not actively employed they treat themselves, and one another, to all manner of pretty and playful endearments.
Hugh S. Gladstone (1907) says:
Incubation is performed mostly, if not entirely, by the male. I flushed females off nests on two occasions, but in one case the full complement of eggs was not yet laid, and in the other I think they were only newly laid. The ground color of the eggs varied from stone to olive, and in one nest all four eggs were remarkably rotund. They take some 18 days to hatch, and only one brood is hatched in the season, though if the first sitting is destroyed the bird will lay again. The nestlings, although they can not fly for some days, are wonderfully precocious and can swim immediately. Their beautiful golden downy plumage becomes paler and paler, even after the first 24 hours.
When the nest contains eggs the female bird shows the greatest anxiety. She can be seen swimming about in the pools; or, rising without any splash, flying up and down quite close to one, uttering a low cry of "plip, plip," varied by a hoarse "chiss-ick." This cry warns the male, which never flies off the nest, but always creeps through the grass and rushes, to some pool, near one of which the nest is invariably placed. Here he will soon be joined by the female, and they will swim about trying to hide their anxiety by preening their feathers or pretending to feed.
Some observers have said that the young do not take to the water until they are fully fledged, but Mr. Hersey's notes say that: "They run lightly over the beaten down masses of grass around the tundra ponds and when they know they are discovered take to the water and swim as well as their parents."
Doctor Nelson (1887) writes:
Fresh eggs are rarely found after June 20th, and by the middle to 20th of July the young are fledged and on the wing. By the 12th to 15th of July a few of the ashy feathers of the autumnal plumage appear, and soon after old and young begin to gather in parties of from five to a hundred or more, and seek the edges of large ponds and flats or the muddy parts of the coast and borders of tide creeks. During August and September they are found on the bays, and the last are seen about the last of September or first of October.
Plumages.—The general color pattern of the downy young northern phalarope is similar to that of the red phalarope, but it differs in some details and the colors are lighter and more yellowish above. The colors vary from "ochraceous tawny," on the crown and rump, to "antimony yellow," on the rest of the upper parts, and to "Naples yellow" on the throat. The underparts are more extensively grayish white than in the preceding species and there is considerable whitish between the black stripes on the back. There is more black in the crown, which is nearly surrounded by it, and the black terminates in a point on the nape. A very narrow black line runs from the bill to the eye; and there is a black auricular patch. The central black stripe on the back is broad, but the side stripes are narrow, and there are extensive black patches on thighs and wings.
I have seen no specimens showing the progress of development of the juvenal plumage. In the full juvenal plumage in August, the crown, occiput, and a space around the eye are black, the former faintly mottled with buff; the remainder of the head, throat, and under parts are white, more or less suffused with "light cinnamon drab" and gray on the sides of the neck, breast, and flanks; the feathers of the back and scapulars are brownish black, broadly edged with bright "ochraceous tawny," which gradually fades; some of the tertials are narrowly edged with the same color; the median and inner greater wing coverts and the central tail feathers are narrowly edged with pale buff or white.
A partial molt of the body plumage in September and October produces the first winter plumage, which is like that of the winter adult, except that the juvenal wings are retained. The sexes are alike in the juvenal and all winter plumages. A partial prenuptial molt, from February to June, involving the body plumage, some of the wing coverts and scapulars and the tail, produces the first nuptial plumage, in which the sexes differ, and which is nearly, if not quite, indistinguishable from that of the adult.
Adults have a complete molt from July to October and an incomplete molt from February to June, similar to that of the young bird, producing the distinct and well-known winter and nuptial plumages.
Food.—The northern phalarope obtains most of its food in the water, on the ocean or in bays or in brackish pools or in fresh-water ponds. Its characteristic and best-known method of feeding, on which many observers have commented, is to swim rapidly about in a small circle or to spin around in one spot, by alternate strokes of its lobed feet; this quick whirling action is supposed to stir up the minute forms of animal life on which it feeds and bring them within reach of its needlelike bill, which it jabs into the water two or three times during each revolution; the spinning motion is often very rapid and sometimes quite prolonged, a curious performance to watch. We saw this many times in the Aleutian Islands where small flocks were constantly seen spinning around about the old piers or feeding in the surf off the beaches where they floated buoyantly over the little waves or fluttered over the crests of the small breakers.
William Brewster (1925) describes an interesting feeding performance, at Umbagog Lake, Maine, as follows:
Alighting again, about 100 yards off, it began fluttering about in circles, now narrowly clearing the water for a yard or two, next hitting against or skittering over the surface, acting indeed, for all the world like some enfeebled butterfly or clumsy moth, alternately attracted and repelled by a forest pool lying in deep shadow. This singular performance was occasionally varied by more pronounced upward flights, extending to a height of several feet, and apparently undertaken in pursuit of flying insects, passing overhead.
Both the northern and the red phalaropes feed in large numbers at sea, often being associated together; their favorite feeding places are in the tide rips, on or around floating masses of seaweed, in the vicinity of whales or near schools of fish. George H. Mackay (1894) writes:
On May 25, 1894, about 10,000 (as carefully estimated) were observed resting on the water around the "pigs" (rocks lying off Swampscott), occupying an area of about a mile radius. They were feeding on the red whale bait (brit) some of which was taken from them. I am informed that these birds follow the mackerel, which also feed on this brit, by their pursuit of which it is driven to the surface, and is then obtainable by the birds. I am also told that in the Bay of Fundy the phalaropes so frighten the mackerel when they come to the surface in pursuit of the brit, that the fish sink themselves. To prevent this, the fishermen carry at times quantities of liver cut up, which they throw out to attract these birds and keep them away from the fish in order that they may be better able to capture the latter.
Dr. Alexander Wetmore (1925), in his report on the food of the northern phalarope, gives the results of the examination of 155 stomachs, collected in Alaska and in the United States, from May to October, inclusive; flies and the larvae of mosquitoes were the largest element, 32.8 per cent; the true bugs (Hemiptera) came next, 31.8 per cent, including water boatmen and back swimmers; beetles represented 16.5 and crustaceans 9.3 per cent; the remainder contained dragonfly nymphs, spiders, marine worms, small mollusks, a few small fishes and a few seeds. Various other insects and their larvae, many of which are injurious, are included in the food of this bird.
Behavior.—In flight these phalaropes remind one of the smaller sandpipers; their flight is swift and often erratic; when flying in flocks they twist and turn and wheel back and forth like a flock of peeps, flashing white or dark gray, as breasts or backs are turned toward the observer. Mr. Brewster (1883) has seen them pitch "down from a considerable height with closed wings, much as snipe will do under similar circumstances." Again he (1925) speaks of seeing one "rise abruptly to a height of 15 or 20 feet, and poise there for a moment, beating its wings and shaking its tail in a violent and peculiar manner."
It is while swimming on smooth water that the northern phalarope seems most at home, most graceful, charming, and confiding; it is usually very tame and easily approached, but sometimes, especially when in large flocks, it seems to be afraid of a boat and keeps beyond gun range. It swims lightly as a cork, its thick coat of breast feathers giving it great buoyancy, its head is held high and carried with a graceful nodding motion. When a flock alights on the water, the individuals soon scatter and swim about rapidly and independently in zigzag lines or circles, jabbing their bills into the water in a nervous and excited manner. I have never seen them dive and doubt if they can do so, as they seem to have great difficulty in getting under water, even to bathe. They frequently alight on floating masses of seaweed, where they run about and feed with all the nervous activity of small sandpipers on a mud flat. Roland C. Ross (1924) made some interesting observations in southern California; he writes:
"The northern phalarope is quite fearless in this region, but seldom does one find the birds so confiding as in the following instance: Mr. Ray Francisco, the warden for the gun club on this marsh, was working in water a foot or two deep, pulling out sedges, dock, and arrow-weed. The northern phalaropes took an interest in this roiled up water and drew close to dab at the surface and "whirligig" about in their unique way. As the man kept at work they drew nearer until actually about his feet. They stayed with him until he stopped work in that section. They were observed sleeping on land and water, bill along the back under a wing. Their ablutions were absurd attempts to get a swanlike breast and neck under water, when such airy grace and buoyancy forbade any subaquatic ventures. To get the proper ducking the phalarope stretches up and drives his pretty head and breast down in the water, which effort promptly forces his tail end up; whereupon like a cork he rebounds, to ride high and dry above the water with hardly a sign of moisture on the close-fitting plumage. At once he jerks up and ducks again, and again, all to little avail, seemingly. This up-jerk and ducking motion can be observed at a good distance, and the birds may be identified by it."
A curious little incident, observed in the Hebrides by Misses Best and Haviland (1914), is thus described:
On the south side of the loch, just where we had seen the pair of birds on our previous visit, we found a male and female in the long herbage at the water side. Perhaps we ought to reverse the usual order and say female and male, for the traditional dominance of the masculine sex is entirely unknown in this species. Certainly this cock bird was a most henpecked little fowl. Possibly he had been captured immediately on his arrival from the sea. At any rate, he was apparently tired out, and whenever the hen stopped, as she frequently did, to preen herself or feed, he sat down where he was, and tucking his bill under his feathers, went to sleep. Before he had dozed for more than a minute, however, the female would peck him awake, and, calling querulously, force him to follow her while she led the way through the marsh. Now and then she flew at him and chased him about, as if losing patience. This little scene was repeated three or four times, and the birds were so confiding that we were able to photograph them in the act.
Aretas A. Saunders writes to me:
I watched flocks of these birds on a small pond near the Priest Butte Lakes, in Seton County, Mont. They flew to the pond in a compact flock, scattered over the pond to feed, and evidently gathered insects from the surface of the water. When frightened by the approach of a marsh hawk the birds all rose, quickly formed the compact flock and flew away, returning later when the hawk had gone.
Voice.—The vocal performances of this little phalarope are not elaborate or striking. As it rises from the water it utters a plaintive and rather faint twittering note of one, two or three syllables, which has been variously noted as tchip, or tchep, or pe-et, or pleep, or wit, wit, or quet, quet. Charles W. Townsend (1920) says that it has a variety of notes. At times it twitters like a barn swallow, at times it emits a single harsh note like that of the eave swallow. Again a gentle ee-ep is emitted, or a sharp quip. According to Witherby's Handbook (1920), "Gladstone describes alarm note as a hoarse chiss-ick, and Aplin speaks of a short quit, a rapid ket-ket, ket-ket. and chirra-chirra-chirra at nesting places."
Field marks.—The northern is the smallest of the three phalaropes. It is the one most likely to be seen on inland ponds, except where the Wilson phalarope is common; but the latter is much larger and lighter colored, especially in fall and winter. The best field marks are small size, small head, slender neck and needlelike bill. The upper parts are blackish or dark gray (not pearly gray, as in the others) and in flight a white stripe shows conspicuously near the posterior border of the wing.
Fall.—Northern phalaropes are very abundant during August and September off the coasts of New England, but they seldom come near shore, except in severe storms. The main migration route is so far off shore, south of Cape Cod, that these birds are seldom seen in the Atlantic coast south of New England.
There is a heavy fall migration throughout the interior, which begins quite early. We found them abundant on both migrations in Saskatchewan and Alberta. After I left, Dr. L. B. Bishop saw a flock of 100 at Many Island Lake, Alberta, on July 13, 1905, the beginning of the fall migration; they were still more abundant at Big Stick Lake, Saskatchewan, on the 19th; nearly all of the birds taken on these two dates were adult females; many males were probably still tending broods of young. A. G. Lawrence writes to me that these birds are fairly common transients in southern Manitoba, from August 15 to the end of September.
H. L. Stoddard (1923) has published the following note:
Occasionally in August and September of past years large flocks of small shore birds have been seen a long way offshore in the sand-dune region of southern Lake Michigan circling and wheeling, flashing alternately snow-white breasts and darker backs. Long-range examination with binoculars showed rather prominent whitish wing bars, but the identity of the birds was never satisfactorily determined until the afternoon of August 28, 1921, when the writer was camping at the mouth of the above-mentioned Bar Creek, in Sheboygan County, Wis. About 2 o'clock in the afternoon a light fog drifted in, and soon after large numbers of small shore birds, similar in actions and appearance to those mentioned, were sighted executing extraordinary maneuvers close to the surface of the water about 500 yards out. They circled and recircled, turned and twisted, some of the flocks finally alighting in some smooth streaks in the water inshore of a long line of net stakes that extended about a mile out. Fully 500 of the birds, now recognized as phalaropes, were in sight. One specimen, a female in fall plumage, was finally secured by tying the shotgun onto driftwood pieces and swimming out among them. They were in no way disturbed at my presence until a shot was fired, and I fully satisfied myself that the bulk of the flock were of the same species as the one secured, northern phalaropes.
J. A. Munro tells me that these birds are irregular fall migrants at Okanagan Landing, British Columbia, from July 28 to September 18. Along the California coast the fall migration is heavy and prolonged from the latter part of July until late October or early November, the bulk of the flight passing during August and September. Grinnell, Bryant, and Storer (1918) say:
Heavy winds on the ocean sometimes prove disastrous to the migrating hosts of northern phalaropes. Chapman records finding many bodies of this species in the tide pools of the Farallon Islands. A heavy northwest wind had been blowing along the coast for the previous two weeks, and many of the birds had resorted to inland pools of water. The emaciated condition of the birds at the Farallones was probably due to their inability to procure food while on the open ocean in migration. Forbush records numbers of these birds as being killed on the Atlantic coast by dashing against lighthouses at night. In the Cape Region of Lower California, Brewster found that "most of the birds examined had lost one or more toes, and two or three an entire foot, and part of the tarsus also, while others showed gaping wounds on the breast. These mutilations were probably caused by the bites of fishes." Emerson records finding several of these birds killed by flying against the telephone wires strung across the salt ponds on the marshes west of Hayward, and says that very many of this and other species of birds are killed in this manner.
Winter.—Practically nothing is known about the winter home of this species in the Western Hemisphere. It is evidently south of the borders of the United States and probably south of the Equator on the open ocean. The few straggling winter records for California and South America give but a scant clue to the winter resorts of the vast numbers that pass us on migrations.
Range.—Distributed over both Old and New Worlds.
Breeding range.—Arctic regions of both hemispheres. In Europe and Asia the breeding range of the northern phalarope extends from Iceland, Spitsbergen, and Scandinavia, across northern Russia and Siberia to Bering Sea. South to Sakhalin Island, southern Russia (Orenburg), and the Outer Hebrides, Shetland, and Orkney Islands.
In North America the breeding range extends north to Alaska (Near Islands, St. Paul Island, Nelson Island, Pastolik, St. Michael, probably Golofin Bay, the Kowak Valley, Cape Blossom, Point Hope, Point Barrow, and the Gens de Large Mountains); Mackenzie (Franklin Bay); Keewatin (Cape Eskimo); probably Baffin Island (Cumberland Sound); and Greenland (North Star Bay, Upernavik and Jacob's Bight). East to Greenland (Disko Island); Labrador (Nain and Hopedale); and western Quebec (Fort George and Rupert House). South to western Quebec (Rupert House); northern Manitoba (York Factory and Fort Churchill); Mackenzie (Artillery Lake and Fort Rae); and Alaska (Nushagak and Kiska Island). West to Alaska (Kiska and Near Islands).
Winter range.—The winter range of the European and Asiatic birds appears to extend south to southern Japan, the north coast of New Guinea, Ceram, the coast of Beluchistan, the east coast of Arabia, and probably points in the northern part of the Indian Ocean.
The winter range of North American breeding birds of this species is more or less imperfectly known, and they are believed to winter largely at sea. It has been reported as wintering in southern California; it has been taken or observed in Costa Rica (Desamparados) and Peru (Tumbez); there is a specimen in the museum at Buenos Aires, Argentina, that was taken in Patagonia.
Spring migration.—Early dates of arrival in North America are: Florida, 175 miles west of Tampa, March 14; Bermuda Islands, March 18; South Carolina, near Chester, May 17; North Carolina, Cape Lookout, April 3; Maryland, Cumberland, May 23; New Jersey, 80 miles off Barnegat, May 6, and Cape May County, May 22; New York, Long Cave, April 2, Montauk Point, April 30, and Branchport, May 16; Connecticut, Quinnipiac Marshes, May 21; Massachusetts, near Boston, May 5, Marthas Vineyard, May 6, and Provincetown, May 21; Maine, near Milo, May 3; Quebec, Godbout, May 27; Nova Scotia, Halifax, May 12; Ohio, Youngstown, May 26; Nebraska, Lincoln, May 10; Manitoba, Shoal Lake, May 19; Saskatchewan, Indian Head, May 15, Osler, May 13, and Dinsmore, May 30; Colorado, Loveland, May 1, Denver, May 17, and Middle Park, May 26; Montana, Big Sandy, May 18, and Terry, May 21; Alberta, Beaverhill Lake, May 7; California, Monterey, April 9, Santa Barbara, April 24, Fresno, May 5, Los Banos, May 19, and Santa Cruz, May 22; Oregon, Klamath Falls, April 17, Malheur Lake, April 26, and Newport, April 30; Washington, Destruction Island Lighthouse, April 27, Shoalwater Bay, May 9, and Olympia, May 13; British Columbia, Okanagan Landing, May 18, and Mabel Lake, May 25; Yukon, Forty-mile, May 3; Alaska, Fort Kenia, May 3, Bethel, May 19, Kowak River, May 22, Igushik, May 23, St. Michael, May 14, Fort Yukon, June 1, and Point Barrow, June 11; and Greenland, North Star Bay, June 14.
Fall migration.—Late dates of departure are: Alaska, Pribilof Islands, August 31, Port Clarence, September 6, and Okutan, September 17; British Columbia, Okanagan Landing, October 15; Washington, Clallam Bay, October 28; Oregon, Oswego, September 25; California, Fresno, October 6, Watsonville, October 20, and Monterey, October 24; Montana, Priest Butte Lakes, September 4, Columbia Falls, September 13, and Corvallis, September 20; Idaho, Salmon River Mountains, September 5; Wyoming, Fort Washakie, September 13, and Yellowstone Park, September 18; Colorado, near Denver, October 13; Manitoba, Whitewater Lake, September 9, and Shoal Lake, September 21; North Dakota, Stump Lake, September 2; Nebraska, Lincoln, October 26; Minnesota, St. Vincent, August 31; Wisconsin, near Cedar Grove, September 23; Ontario, Ottawa, October 12; Ohio, Youngstown, October 9; Newfoundland, October 11; Ungava, mouth of the Koksoak River, September 19; Maine, near Pittsfield, September 3; New Hampshire, Lonesome Lake, September 22, Lancaster, October 8, and Dublin Pond, October 13; Massachusetts, Nantucket, September 20, near Springfield, September 23, Swampscott, September 26, Harvard, October 5, and Ware, October 13; Connecticut, Hartford, September 27; New York, Branchport, September 15, Athol Spring, September 24, Oneida Lake, September 21, Ithaca, September 27, Flushing, September 29, and Montauk Point, October 22; New Jersey, Stone Harbor, September 4, near Tuckerton, September 13, and 5-fathom Beach Light, October 12; Pennsylvania, Pittston, September 2, Beaver, September 26, Carlisle, October 1, and Erie, October 10; District of Columbia, Washington, August 31; West Virginia, near Parkersburg, September 26; North Carolina, Bladen County, September 23; and South Carolina, Frogmore, September 25, and Sea Islands, October 25.
Casual records.—The northern phalarope is apparently less common in the Mississippi Valley and the Southwest. Some records in these regions are: Michigan, Lenawee County, September 14, 1899, near Forestville, October 4, 1911, and October 28, 1911; Indiana, Fort Wayne, June 7, 1889; Illinois, Calumet Lake, September 27, 1903; Iowa, Burlington, August 10, 1894, and Omaha, May 6, 1896; Missouri, near St. Louis, October 9, 1878; Kansas, May 25, 1883; New Mexico, Las Vegas, August 31, 1903; and Arizona, Walker Lake, August 19, 1889.
Egg dates.—Alaska: 83 records, May 20 to July 23; 42 records, June 12 to 25. Arctic Canada: 58 records, June 16 to July 10; 29 records, June 23 to July 1. Iceland: 43 records, May 25 to July 12; 22 records, June 8 to 26. British Isles: 18 records, May 16 to July 12; 9 records, June 7 to 24.
I shall never forget my first impressions of a prairie slough with its teeming bird life, an oasis of moisture in a sea of dry, grassy plain, where all the various water birds of the region were thickly congregated. Perhaps 10 or a dozen species of ducks could be seen in the open water, gulls and terns were drifting about overhead, grebes and countless coots were scurrying in and out among the reeds, and noisy killdeers added their plaintive cries to the ceaseless din from swarms of blackbirds in the marsh. In marked contrast to the clownish coots and the noisy killdeers and blackbirds, the almost silent, gentle, dainty, little phalaropes stand out in memory as charming features in the picture, so characteristic of western bird life. The virgin prairies are nearly gone, but there are still left a few oases of moisture in our encroaching civilization, where these graceful birds may continue to delight the eye with their gentle manners.
Unlike the other two world-wide species, the Wilson phalarope is a strictly American bird, making its summer home in the interior of North America and wintering in southern South America. It differs from the other two also in being less pelagic and more terrestrial; it is seldom, if ever, seen on the oceans, being a bird of the inland marshes; and it prefers to spend more time walking about on land, or wading in shallow water, than swimming on the water. Hence its bill, neck and legs are longer, and its feet less lobed. It is a more normal shore bird.
Spring.—The spring migration seems to be directly northward from the west coasts of South America, through Central America, to the Mississippi Valley on one hand and to California on the other. Although it usually arrives in Manitoba during the first week in May, sometimes as early as April 27, I have found it common in Texas as late as May 17. Wilson phalarope are often associated with northern phalaropes on migrations, sometimes in considerable flocks, frequenting the temporary ponds made by heavy spring rains on the grassy meadows, rather than the larger ponds and lakes. The first arrivals are usually females, followed later by mixed flocks of both sexes, which soon scatter and separate into small parties of two or three pairs.
Courtship.—The pursuit courtship is thus described by Rev. P. B. Peabody (1903):
For some three weeks after their arrival, these birds gladden landscape and water scape, in care-free abandon. They are ever on the move, afoot or awing; and during these three weeks of junketing, the unique courtship is carried on. There is no more laughable sight, to one endowed with a modicum of the sense of humor, than that of a couple, or even three, of the brightly colored females, ardently chasing a single somber-plumaged male, who turns and darts, here and there, in arrowy flights apparently much bored by the whole performance. Meanwhile, the sometimes dangling feet and the ever tremulous wings of the amorous females bespeak an ardor that would be ridiculous, under the circumstances, were it not so desperately in earnest.
Dr. E. W. Nelson (1877), on the other hand, writes:
At these times the nearest approach to pursuit is in a habit they have of suddenly darting off for a short distance at right angles to their general course, but this appears to be in mere sport, for nearly the same relative positions are kept by the birds, and this erratic course is rarely pursued beyond a few rods. In fact, throughout the pairing season I have always found the phalaropes very undemonstrative toward each other, the choice of mates being conducted in a quiet, unobtrusive way, quite unlike the usual manner among birds. The only demonstrations I have observed during the pairing time consist of a kind of solemn bowing of the head and body; but sometimes, with the head lowered and thrust forward, they will run back and forth in front of the object of their regard, or again a pair may often be seen to salute each other by alternately bowing or lowering their heads; but their courtship is characterized by a lack of rivalry and vehemence usually exhibited by birds. A male is often accompanied by two females at first, but as soon as his choice is made the rejected bird joins her fortunes with some more impressible swain.
During my various seasons spent on the western plains I have frequently seen these phalaropes flying about in trios, consisting of one male and two females, the male always in the lead, as if pursued. Females apparently outnumber the males; and, as nest building and incubation are entirely performed by the male, many of the females must remain unattached and unable to breed. I have actually seen the male building the nest and have never been able to flush a female from a set of eggs or a brood of young.
W. Leon Dawson (1923) writes:
We have already acknowledged that Mrs. Wilson wears the breeches and that she is more inclined to club life than she is to household cares. The case is, however, much more serious than we had at first suspected. I owe the original intimation of the true state of affairs to Mr. A. O. Treganza, the veteran oologist of Salt Lake City; and subsequent investigation of my own has abundantly confirmed his claims. Mrs. Wilson is a bigamist. Not occasionally, and of course not invariably, but very usually she maintains two establishments. Now that attention is called to it, we see that our notebooks are full of references to female phalaropes seen in company with two males. The association can not be accidental, for we are in the very midst of the breeding season. The males, frightened by our presence in the swamp, and not daring to remain longer upon their eggs, have sought the comforting presence of the head of their house. The three take counsel together, and it is only when the redoubtable lady announces that the way is clear that the dutiful cuckolds trail off to their nests. On the 6th and 7th of June, 1922, our M. C. O. party of three members gave close attention to a swamp in Long Valley, southern Mono County, at an altitude of 7,000 feet. We took 11 sets, of four eggs each, of the Wilson phalaropes, and we noted a distinct tendency of the nests to group themselves in pairs. In only one instance, however, were we able to trace clearly a connection between two occupied nests. These two, containing heavily incubated eggs, were situated only 42 feet apart, and the two males who were flushed from them by a surprise coup of ours joined themselves immediately to the only female who had shown any solicitude concerning this section of the swamp.
Nesting.—The Wilson phalarope is regarded by some egg collectors as an exasperating bird, because they have some difficulty in finding its nest. The nest is surprisingly well concealed, often in what seems to be scanty vegetation; and the eggs are good examples of protective coloration. I remember once crossing a moist meadow, covered with short grass which had been mowed the previous season; a male phalarope flushed from almost under foot, I threw down my hat to mark the spot and started hunting for the nest. I hunted in vain, until I gave it up and picked up my hat; there was the nest, with four eggs in it, under the hat and in plain sight.
In southwestern Saskatchewan in 1905 and 1906, we found some half dozen or more nests of this species, between June 8 and July 13. The nests were on the wet or moist meadows about the lakes and sloughs or on marshy islands; some of the nests were in practically plain sight in short grass; others were more or less well concealed in longer grass, which was sometimes arched over them; they were always difficult to find unless the incubating male was flushed. The nests were merely hollows in the damp ground, three or four inches in diameter, either scantily or well lined with dry grass.
Doctor Nelson (1877) gives a very good description of the behavior of these birds on their nesting grounds, as follows:
Incubation is attended to by the male alone. The female, however, keeps near, and is quick to give the alarm upon the approach of danger. The females are frequently found at this time in small parties of six or eight; and should their breeding ground be approached, exhibit great anxiety, coming from every part of the marsh to meet the intruder, and, hovering over his head, utter a weak nasal note, which can be heard to only a short distance.
The movements of the birds usually render it an easy matter to decide whether or not they have nests in the immediate vicinity. After the first alarm, those having nests at a distance disperse, while the others take their course in the form of an ellipse, sometimes several hundred yards in length, with the object of their suspicion in the center; and, with long strokes of their wings, much like the flight of a killdeer, they move back and forth. As their nests are approached the length of their flight is gradually lessened, until at last they are joined by the males, when the whole party hover low over the intruder's head, uttering their peculiar note of alarm. At this time they have an ingenious mode of misleading the novice, by flying off to a short distance and hovering anxiously over a particular spot in the marsh, as though there were concealed the objects of their solicitation. Should they be followed, however, and a search be there made, the maneuver is repeated in another place still farther from the real location of the nest. But should this ruse prove unavailing, they return and seem to become fairly desperate, flying about one's head almost within reach, manifesting great distress.