Winter.—During the winter months these godwits either haunt the seashore, displaying special preference for low-lying coasts where extensive areas of mud flats are exposed at low tide, or else are to be found where there are large marshes along the edges of lakes, and less frequently by the banks of rivers. On the open coasts and the Spanish marismas they are subject to a good deal of persecution from the larger falcons, especially the peregrine, which greatly appreciates them as an article of diet. Lord Lilford describes the great flocks of these godwits on the lower reaches of the Guadalquiver as spreading out into long lines or gathering into dense masses like starlings or dunlins, when trying to avoid the attentions of their long-winged enemies.
Breeding range.—In Iceland it is very local, being confined to the low-lying country in the southwest (Arnes and Rangarvalla-Sysla), where it breeds in fair numbers; Faroes (only once definitely recorded); formerly in the British Isles from Yorkshire to Norfolk, but extinct as a breeding species since 1847, unless a possible Lincolnshire record for 1885 is accepted; Belgium, Holland, and its islands, West Jutland, North Germany, locally in South Sweden, Hungary, Poland, the Baltic Republics (Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia); in Russia, according to Buturlin, it breeds in the governments of St. Petersburg (Leningrad), Moscow, Riazan, on the Volga south to the mouth of the Kama, in the Ufa and Perm governments north to 60° N. In western Asia it nests in the Tobolsk government. The Irtysh Valley, Baraba Steppe, and locally in Turkestan, but the exact limits of this and the smaller eastern race (L. l. melanuroides Gould) are not yet defined.
Winter range.—The main winter quarters of this species are in the Mediterranean region, the coasts of North Africa, and the Nile Valley, the marshes of Iraq and the Indian Peninsula east of Burma. It has been recorded from the Azores, Maderia, and the Canaries; is common in suitable localities along the North African littoral from Morocco through Algeria and Tunisia to Egypt, and has been recorded from the Egyptian Sudan, Kordofan, and Abyssinia, and exceptionally as far South as Natal. In Asia it ranges to the Persian Gulf, the Indian Peninsular, but scarce in the south, Ceylon, Burma, etc., while the eastern race visits the islands of Malaysia and ranges to Australia.
Spring migration.—The northward movement from Morocco takes place in February and March and it appears in Andalusia in February (late date April 6). In Corsica it has been noted as late as April 23 and on passage, Malta, March 24-25. In Tunisia it is most plentiful in February and March, and does not stay in Egypt after March (late date April 7). It also stays in the plains of northern India until March (late date Delhi, May 25). It passes through Portugal in February and March; Italy in March and April; Greece (February 10, March 7, etc.); Montenegro, large flock March 17-25; Bulgaria (March 10-31, flock of 200 on April 1).
Fall migration.—The southward bound hosts arrive in Andalusia in August-September, but in Portugal, though a few appear in September, most pass in October. In north Italy the earliest arrival dates from the end of July, and in the Balkan Peninsular and the passage lasts from September to November (early date August 18, Bulgaria, late date November 13, Bulgaria), reaching Egypt in October. At the Euphrates marshes it arrives early in August and reaches India in October (early date, Nepal, September 7).
Egg dates.—In Holland and Germany the first eggs may be found in the last 10 days of April and early May, but as they are largely taken for the market at that time, many sets in collections are second and even third layings. Seven records, April 18-30; 10 records, May 1-10; 12 records, May 11-20; 8 records, May 21-25. In Jutland breeding is rather later; six records May 10-15; and still later in Iceland, six records, May 23-June 2.
Contributed by Francis Charles Robert Jourdain
The claim of this species to a place in the North American list dates back to Audubon, who obtained three specimens on Sand Key, near Cape Sable, Florida. Since that occurrence no other specimens have been obtained.
Courtship.—There are few species the study of whose family life is attended with greater difficulties than the greenshank. In the first place it is an exceedingly wary and keen-sighted bird, and furthermore, it is not sociable during the breeding season, each pair nesting apart from its fellows in some of the wildest and most desolate country imaginable. In the British Isles its main breeding grounds are on the vast expanse of sodden moorland, interspersed here and there by lochs and "flows" (stretches of water-logged ground with black peaty pools), which cover a great part of the Scottish counties of Sutherland, Caithness, and Ross. Further southward it also breeds on suitable ground in Inverness-shire and other parts, but here the country is more broken and varied and there are big stretches of old pine forest and more modern coniferous plantations. In both classes of country observation is attended with difficulties. On the open treeless moorlands houses are few and far between, the climate is anything but inviting in early May, rainstorms are frequent, varied by squalls of hail and fogs, while in some seasons heavy snowfalls take place from time to time. On the other hand the country is open, with few hills of any size, and the direction of the birds' flight can be marked for long distances, while further south, though the extent of possible breeding ground is infinitely smaller, it is far more difficult to follow a bird in flight as it skims over a belt of forest or round a shoulder of a hill. So it is little wonder that of the actual courtship of the greenshank we have hardly anything on record. What little we know may be classified under two heads; the wonderful song flight of the male and the ritual of the courtship itself. The song flight may be seen even after incubation has begun, though possibly only in the earlier stages, and has been noticed by several observers. The fullest and best description is that of Mr. J. Walpole Bond (1923), which may be summarized as follows:
When singing, the greenshank rises fairly high—sometimes very high—above the moor and starts by soaring, head to wind, of course. It may then remain soaring, looking very hawklike indeed, while it sings. Or else—and this generally happens—it varies the performance by proceeding in a succession of downward, inverted arcs of good size, though soaring is resumed for a few moments as the summit of each curve is reached. In this case "singing" only takes place on the downward portion of the curve; on the down curve, too, the wings are sometimes vibrated very rapidly. Sometimes also when the "song" itself is in progress the wings are flicked up and down with measured rhythm.
The song itself is a musical and moderately fast repeated dissyllable tew-hoo, a rich note, harmonizing with the desolate surroundings in which bird life, except for an occasional meadow pipit, (Anthus pratensis) is often almost entirely absent. Walpole Bond also notes a twanging and metallic chuck, dock, or duk, sometimes heard after each quick tew-hoo, and questions whether this latter sound is vocal or caused by wings or tail. Personally I have not noticed the latter sound, perhaps because I have generally heard the song at a great height and always at some distance. It should be added that this performance is often kept up for long periods. Gilroy (1922) mentions a case when it lasted for twenty minutes, and though I have not timed the birds, I have heard it more or less continually for ten or twelve minutes, ending with a precipitate dive earthwards. Of the actual courtship ritual I have seen no published record. The birds arrive on their breeding ground early in April. On an occasion when a heavy snowfall had practically wiped out all early nests on the Caithness-Sutherland moors, I saw two birds on a little sandy spit by the side of a small loch. The male was evidently pressing his attentions on his mate and approached her with high flapping wings, showing the underside almost as the redshank does, and actually raising his wing over the hen until at last coition took place. Both birds remained quiet for some little time afterwards and then rose together and flew away, calling all the time.
Nesting.—The information with regard to the nesting habits in all the older works is of the baldest and scantiest nature, but the last decade has seen a great advance in our knowledge and Mr. N. Gilroy (1922) in particular has published a fascinating little pamphlet on this bird in which his observations on over twenty nests examined between 1906 and 1922 are carefully coordinated, so that now the actions and movements of breeding birds are much better understood. The whole account is of the deepest interest, but as it extends to some twenty pages it is only possible here to give a short résumé of the present stage of our knowledge. The greenshank generally nests within easy reach of some small lochan, often a mere pool, to which the young can easily be led by the parents soon after they are hatched out. The nest itself is usually on dry ground. On the treeless moorlands of Southerland Caithness it is almost always made either close up against or actually on one of the many grey bits of rock lying amongst the heather. Exceptionally it has been found on the top of a hummock, but as a rule should be looked for within a few hundred yards of the feeding ground, sometimes quite exposed but difficult to see as the sitting bird exactly resembles in color the grey stones lying about and generally sits till almost trodden on. In the Inverness country the birds nest close to a mark, just as the Sutherland birds do, but here instead of a grey boulder it is usually a bit of bleached and dead pine, of which thousands of fragments lie scattered about. Exceptionally I have known a bird make use of an iron fence post as a mark. When a bird has been found standing about the edge of some tiny pool the probability is that his mate is sitting not far away, but the difficulty of finding her is vastly increased by the fact that the main feeding ground is generally by the side of a good-sized lake, which may be any distance from one to four miles away, and here one of the pair may spend the greater part of the day. Moreover, it is not uncommon to find that several pairs of birds use the same lakeside as their main resting and feeding ground. Even so, if the sexes changed duties at short intervals or behaved in exactly the same manner, it would not be a matter of great difficulty to trace a bird back to its nesting ground. But there seems to be considerable individual variation in this respect. There is, however, a very strong tendency to return to the same breeding place year after year. The classical case is T. E. Buckley's record of a nest found between two stones which was again occupied two seasons later presumably by the same bird, but there are innumerable cases where two or three nesting sites, used in as many years, lie within one hundred yards of one another. This makes the discovery of nests much easier if one can revisit the district for two or more years in succession. New nests are merely saucer-like depressions with a few heather stalks and some dead bents, but almost always some leaves of bay myrtle or bilberry in the hollow, and if the bird has begun to sit, some of its own small breast feathers.
Eggs.—Normally, four in number, occasionally only three, while five have occurred; second layings usually consist of three eggs. Larger numbers, such as eight, recorded by Booth, are probably due either to two hens laying together or one clutch spoilt by weather and a second laid subsequently. They are pyriform in shape and wonderfully handsome, the ground color varies from stone color to warm buff, marked sometimes sparingly and sometimes freely with irregular spots and blotches of deep red-brown, as well as ashy or purplish shell marks. In most eggs the markings are heavier at the large end. The measurements of 100 eggs average 51.41 by 34.80 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 59.8 by 37.7, 45.8 by 35.4, and 50.4 by 32.4 millimeters.
Young.—That incubation is sometimes shared by both sexes is proved by the fact that both Walpole Bond and Seton Gordon have witnessed the change of duties and the latter has actually photographed the birds in the act of changing places. Yet Gilroy watched one bird from 10.45 a. m. to 7.50 p. m., which remained all the time at a loch side in Sutherland on May 16, although its mate was sitting on a clutch of fresh eggs. Evidently there is considerable individual variation in this respect.
Plumages.—The molts and plumages are fully described in "A Practical Handbook of British Birds," edited by H. F. Witherby (1920), to which the reader is referred.
Food.—During the breeding season the food consists chiefly of insects and their larvae, but tadpoles and frog spawn are freely taken and Oswin Lee records a pair feeding busily for nearly an hour in the evening on them, and small water beetles. Freshwater mollusca, such as Planorbis, are also taken and occasionally a small fish. Along insects the following genera of Coleoptera have been recorded: Phyllopertha, Cneorhinus, Harpalus, Dytiscus, Gyrinus, Aphodius, and Ilybius. Among Diptera, Tipula and their larvae; also Notonecta glauca and Lestes nympha. In the autumn and winter a great part of the food is picked up on the coast and includes worms, lug-worms, crustacea (Palaemon, Crangon, Hippolyte, Squilla, and in large numbers Gammaridae).
Behavior.—Although a large proportion of its breeding area is absolutely devoid of trees, the greenshank also nests in country intersected by belts of forest, and it is interesting to note that it perches readily on trees and makes good use of them as lookout posts. It is always wary and readily takes alarm, rising with loud outcry on the approach of danger. As MacGillivray notes, when searching for food it often wades out into the water until it reaches nearly to the tarsal joint and moves "with rapidity, running rather than walking and almost constantly vibrating its body." It is interesting to note the difference in the behavior of individual birds under similar circumstances. As a rule the incubating bird sits very closely and will sometimes allow herself to be touched before leaving the eggs. When flushed one bird will spring up and dart away with rapid flight and a single cry of alarm, another will for a minute or two fly about with deafening clamor, and in one case a bird dashed off but pitched about five yards away, yelping loudly and next minute flew straight at my head, with repeated cries of Ip, chip, chip, ip, chip, chip, etc. Just as it reached me it sheered off with its long green legs dangling, but returned to the charge again, repeating the process ten or twelve times, after which it settled on the ground and called vociferously, but after 10 minutes had passed flew away still calling. This behavior was, of course, quite exceptional.
N. Gilroy (1922) lays great stress on one note uttered when the bird is about to take its place on the eggs. This is a clear, piercing cry of Tchook-tchook-tchook, continually uttered till the bird settles down on the nest. It does not necessarily imply that the bird is rendered uneasy by the presence of a watcher and is apparently used even when the bird is quite undisturbed, so if one is lucky enough to be within earshot when it is uttered it forms a valuable clue to the position of the nest.
Fall.—When the young are fledged the family parties make their way to the coast. Here they frequent the "pools of brackish water at the heads of the sand fords and the shallow margins of the bays and creeks" as MacGillivray says. The same writer describes its flight as "rapid, gliding, and devious, it alights abruptly, runs to some distance, stands and vibrates." By September or October at the latest it leaves its haunts in Scotland and makes its way southward along the coast line.
Winter.—Although there are a few midwinter records even in the British Isles by far the greater proportion of these birds spend the winter from the Mediterranean southward and in southern Asia, the Malay Archipelago, Australia, etc. Here they are chiefly known as shore birds, only occasionally being found by the sides of inland lakes and marshes.
Breeding range.—Scotland, chiefly in the north, but has extended its range of late years; Norway, Sweden, Finland, Russia, south to the governments of St. Petersburg, Pskov, Tula, Riazan, Kazan, and Ufa; across northern Asia to Kamchatka, south to latitude 55° in the west and 54° in the east.
Winter range.—The Mediterranean countries and Africa, south to Cape Province and Natal; in Asia, India, Ceylon, Burma, Siam, China, Hainan, Formosa, and Japan; Sunda Islands, Moluccas, Borneo, Java, Timor, Sumatra, Norfolk Island, Australia, and New Zealand.
Spring migration.—From its winter quarters in South Africa it is recorded from Morocco (Mogador) in May and near Gibraltar in March, April, and May (late date May 22); passes Corsica in some numbers (May 8), arrives in Greece, where some also winter, at the end of March and in April, leaving in May (late date May 8); leaves Egypt in March; passes Cyprus in April and leaves the marshes of lower Iraq at the end of April, and also leaves India about the same time. In France it arrives late in April or early May, and in Spain has been observed as late as the third week of May, even in the south. First arrivals reach South Russia in March and pass through north Germany about mid-April, arriving on the British coasts from the middle of April onward and in south Sweden in the latter part of May.
Fall migration.—While the spring migration is usually noticed only in small numbers, in pairs or even singly, the fall migration is better marked. From mid-July to late in November they may be met with on the British coasts, but most birds leave in September-October, passing through Holland in August and September-October; in North France (early date mid-July), and reaching Spain in September, crossing over the Straits of Gibraltar in October, and Malta in September (occasionally in June, July, and August, probably non-breeders). From Bulgaria it is reported in September (early date August 20); Montenegro, September (early date July 19); Cyprus, October 3; and Greece, arrives in September. Some birds reach the marshes of Iraq at the end of July, but mostly in August, and in India from the middle to the end of September, Pegu in October. Along the west coast of Africa they are noted from Mogador (September), Gambia (September), Gold Coast (September 13), Cape Province and Natal (September-October).
Casual records.—Has occurred in Madeira, the Canaries, Azores, Mauritius (once). Cape Verde Islands, Florida (Audubon), Norfolk Island, Chile, and Buenos Ayres.
Egg dates.—Some 39 dates from Scotland all fall in May. The earliest date for a full clutch is May 9. From May 9 to 16 (22 dates), 17 to 23 (11 dates), 23 to 28 (5 dates).
Contributed by Francis Charles Robert Jourdain
The redshank is a recent addition to the American list. Two specimens have been shot near Angmagsalik, in East Greenland, the first on May 29, 1902, and the second on April 24, 1909, and were recorded by the superintendent, Johan Petersen. Unfortunately, neither bird was sent to Copenhagen, so it remains uncertain whether they belong to the typical race or to the larger form described by Lehn Schiøler as T. totanus robustus. Doctor Coues suggested (1897) that the redshank should be included in the hypothetical list of North American birds on the ground of a specimen said to have been taken on Hudson Bay and transmitted to the British Museum, where, however, it is not to be found.
Courtship.—Fortunately we have very full accounts of the courtship and love song of this species from the observations of Messrs. E. Selous, W. Farren, and J. S. Huxley. Mr. Farren's (1910) account (incorporating much of Mr. Selous's notes) is as follows:
In courting, the male redshank approaches the female with his head erect and his body drawn up tall and straight. As he draws near he raises his wings high above his head for an instant as when alighting on the ground after a flight. Then allowing his wings gradually to droop he vibrates them and also his legs, the latter very rapidly, with a motion suggestion of a soldier "marking time." Mr. Selous (1906) has described this action, including the vibrating of the wings and legs, as follows: "The male bird, walking up to the female, raises his wings gracefully above his back. They are considerably elevated, and for a little he holds them aloft merely; but soon, drooping them to about half their former elevation, he flutters them tremulously and gracefully as though to please her." The female, as though unimpressed, turned from him and continued to feed, which did not greatly disturb her amorous wooer, as he also commenced to peck about as though feeding. But very soon he again walks up to the female "and now raising his wings to the fluttering height only, flutters them tremulously as before. He walks on a few steps and stops. He again approaches, and standing beside her—both being turned the same way—with his head and neck as it were curved over her, again trembles his wings, at the same time making a little rapid motion with his red legs on the ground as though he were walking fast, yet not advancing." This action occurs with fair frequency during the period before egg laying. I have witnessed it several times, having first been attracted by the raised wings of the male, rendered conspicuous by the white secondaries and undersides, without which I should probably not have seen the birds at all.
The habit of deliberately extending the wings upward on alighting, and thus exposing the light undersurface is one of the most characteristic actions of the redshank, and the white gleaming of the wing for a second or so before the wings are furled often enables one to identify the species even when the birds themselves are too far off to be recognized otherwise. Mr. Farren (1910) also adds:
Redshanks are fond of perching, either on horizontal branches of trees, on posts or rails; in the Cambridgeshire fens I have seen them displaying, as described by Stevenson, on the long low stacks of freshly dug peat, and also on the ground. A male may be seen running fussily about in front of the female, vibrating its body and drooping its wings and often uttering a note similar to the trilling song which accompanies the spring soaring flight.
J. S. Huxley (1912) gives a clearer and more complete picture of the courtship than any previous describer. The first stage consists in the pursuit of a hen by a male bird. Directly he stops feeding and runs after her, she runs away. Never in a straight line for any distance, but in a series of curves, often doubling back and sometimes describing a circle or even a figure of eight, while the cock follows her line a few yards behind. The cock's head is held sideways at an angle of quite 20 degrees with the line of his body in order to keep the hen in view, and his neck is stiffly stretched out. His pure white tail is expanded so that half is visible on each side of his folded wings. The chase often lasts for quite a long time, when the hen flies off leaving the male disconsolate, but sometimes she will stop and then the second stage begins.
The male may run on a yard or two, but soon stops.
He first unfolds his wings and raises them right above his back so as to expose their conspicuous undersurface of pure white, somewhat clouded or barred with grey. Then fluttering them tremulously but keeping them raised all the time he advances very, very slowly towards the hen, lifting his feet high in the air and often putting them down scarcely in advance of where they were before. Meantime as he steps on he stretches his neck a little forward, opens his mouth, and gives utterance to a single continuous note, which is changed into a long roll or rattle by the quick vibration of the lower mandible. The sound is quite like that of a nightjar, but higher and without any of the little breaks in the pitch of the note. So he advances closer and closer, the hen usually remaining motionless. Again at any time during this stage she may reject his suit by flying off, but if she is going to accept him, she simply stays still, often without moving a muscle the whole time. As the cock gets closer, he gets more and more excited, vibrates his wings more and more rapidly, at length so fast that almost his whole weight is supported by them, though he still continues to execute the high stepping movements with his feet. At last when just behind the hen, he abandons the ground and flutters up on to her back on which he half alights. The period when he is there on her back is the third and last state of the courtship; it is very short and is of course in a sense nothing more than getting into the proper position for the actual pairing. Sometimes the hen, suddenly repugnant, gives a violent jerk or sideways twist and shakes him forcibly on to the ground, herself running or flying away. Occasionally, however, she apparently is satisfied; she spreads her tail diagonally and the cock with a quick and wonderfully graceful motion, half supported all the time by his fluttering wings, accomplishes the act of pairing. Then the hen gives the same violent twist that I have just mentioned, he gets shaken off, and they both begin quietly feeding, often side by side.
The love flight of the redshank is a very striking feature of the courtship and may be seen even after incubation has begun. J. S. Huxley (1912) describes it as follows:
A redshank rises up into the air, and there flies in a series of switchbacks. Just before the bottom of each switchback he gave very quick wing flaps, almost fluttering, one would call it, this made him start up again. He went on fluttering or flapping till he was about halfway up and for the rest of the upstroke of the switchback he soared up with the impetus he had gained. His wings now were set back and down; his neck and head thrown up in a beautiful proud attitude; his tail spread out. Then he turned the angle of his wings and glided down, still in the same attitude.
While flying thus he gives vent to what one may call a song—a series of pure, sweet single notes, never uttered on other occasions. The flight may be quite short, or may go on for several minutes. W. Farren (1910) writing of the same love-flight describes the song as "Dhu-lee, dhu-lee, du-lee, du-lee, du-le, dle-dle-dle-dle," the latter part becoming shorted and quicker as it nears the end, when it may be continued to a vanishing point.
It should be noted that the nightjar-like note already referred to is only used on the second stage of the courtship, yet it was audible at all hours of the day and night from which Huxley deduced that, as only a fraction of the courtships were consummated and the total number of birds did not exceed 50, each bird must pair several times a day.
The contests between the males seem to be usually of a formal character, but Selous (1906) describes one case where two birds fought with determination, jumping at one another and each attempting to seize the mandibles of the other with its own.
Nesting.—The Iceland redshank has very similar habits to the ordinary European bird and haunts the swamps and morasses near the sea as well as the neighborhood of the larger lakes inland during the breeding season. Here it nests in colonies, varying in number from five or six to about twenty pairs. The nests are usually some distance apart, and generally well concealed, the sitting bird choosing a hollow where the vegetation grows thickest. In the British Isles the common redshank has greatly increased its breeding range during the last 25 years and has gradually made its way inland up the river valleys to many districts where it was previously quite unknown. Here it shares its breeding grounds with the lapwing (Vanellus vanellus), but the nest is not exposed like that of the latter but neatly hidden at the foot of some tall wisp of dead grass. The bird will even twist the dead grasses together to get the required protection and some nests are so artfully hidden that they can only be found by accidentally flushing the bird. In an East Anglian marsh a bird got up almost at my feet. There was a small flattened tussock of grass with long dead stalks growing up round it, but not a sign of nest or eggs, yet I felt certain that the bird had been incubating. On probing the solid-looking green tussock my fingers slipped into a hollow space beneath, where the four eggs were lying. The bird had been sitting in a neat cup of grass, completely roofed in above, and had slipped out by parting the growing grass at the side, which had closed up again. Exceptionally nests may be found, especially near the coast, quite exposed, but as a rule the bird takes advantage of every bit of cover available. On the level patches of short rich grass in the Dutch polders many pairs breed, and I have seen sixteen nests in a day. Narrow drains only a few inches wide are cut by the farmers in the turf, and here the grass is not cropped quite so close at the sides, so even under these disadvantageous conditions the redshanks avoid the open flats and prefer the partial concealment of the drain sides. In the great mud flats of the Marisma of the River Guadalquiver in South Spain, too, there is little in the way of cover, but the nests are never so exposed as those of the stilt or avocet. But wherever found, whether in Iceland, Holland, or Spain, there are the excited parents flying round and round with incessant and clamorous cries of tu-e-too, tu-e-too, alarming all the other breeding species and generally the first to give warning of danger.
The nest is substantially made of grasses and hollowed out by the pressure of the bird's breast and little in the way of extraneous matter is used, though occasionally, especially in open sites, quite a substantial cup may be built of stalks, grasses, bits of heath, moss, etc.
Eggs.—Normally four, rarely five, but in second or third layings three are not uncommon, and cases of six, seven, and eight eggs in a nest have been recorded, probably due to two hens laying together, though in some instances they may be due to a full clutch being laid after an interruption by snow or floods. The eggs are pyriform in shape and when large series are examined, show considerable variation, the ground color ranging from creamy white, stone color, to pale greenish gray or light purplish red and warm reddish ochreous. They are freely blotched and spotted with purple brown or rich red brown and ashy shell marks; sometimes a dark hair streak at the big end. In some eggs the blotches are very large, but others are more uniformly marked with small spots. In a series they show much richer and redder coloring than Vanellus, Himantopus, or Recurvirostra, and lack the distinctive green ground of Tringa erythropus. The measurements of 36 eggs from Iceland average 45.39 by 31.75 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 49 by 32.4, 46.5 by 33.1, 42.3 by 31.3, and 43.7 by 30.5 millimeters. The measurements of 100 British eggs average 44.56 by 31.56 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 48.4 by 32.4, 46.5 by 33.1, and 41.5 by 28.5 millimeters. It would be seen from the above figures that Icelandic eggs (like the birds) are slightly larger than British specimens. The incubation period lasts 23 to 25 days and is apparently chiefly undertaken by the female, but J. Cunningham has shot the male from the eggs.
Plumages.—The molts and plumages are fully described in "A Practical Handbook of British Birds," edited by H. F. Witherby (1920), to which the reader is referred.
Food.—The redshank is a shore feeder to a great extent for the autumn months and often a riverside and marsh harvester in spring and summer. In the latter season its food consists chiefly of insects and their larvae, including Coleoptera (Hyphidrus, Onthophagus, etc.), Diptera, especially Tipulidae; also the larvae of Ephemeridae and Phryganeidae, spiders, worms (Lumbrici); and it is said small frogs and berries are also taken. In autumn crustacea (including Gammaridae, shrimps, and small crabs) are taken; also Mollusca (Cardium) and smaller marine univalves and annelids in addition to insect food when procurable; and small fish have been found in the stomach by Professor Patten.
Behavior.—The restless and wary nature of this very numerous species renders it very unpopular with the shore shooters, as its loud yelping cry of Took took alarms every bird within earshot. As they are poor eating and do not pay for shooting, they frequently escape, although a good many are shot. During the breeding season it is quite a common sight to see a redshank perched on a post, or tripping lightly along a rail with upraised wings, and it will at times even settle on a tree.
Fall.—As soon as the young are able to fly (for only one brood is reared in the season) the redshanks form into family parties or small flocks and work their way down the valleys toward the shore. On the British coasts large reinforcements arrive from the continent, but it is not possible to tell whether the birds which remain throughout the winter are visitors from the north or locally bred birds. In Iceland they leave about the end of September or early in October, and on the British coasts are most numerous from mid-July to mid-November.
Winter.—The main winter quarters of this species are in Africa, but it is of scarce occurrence in the south; and also in southwestern Asia; farther east in Asia it is replaced by other races, which winter in India, the Malay Peninsula, and the islands of Malaysia.
Breeding range.—In Iceland and the Faeroes the breeding race is T. totanus robustus. The typical race (T. totanus totanus) breeds in suitable localities throughout the British Isles and the Continent of Europe, north to latitude 71° in Norway, rare in North Finland, and scarce in Russian Lapland, while it is absent from the islands off the North Russian coast and reaches about latitude 58° N. in the Urals and 56½° in West Siberia. Southward its range extends to Andalusia, northern Italy, Sardinia, and in small numbers to Greece, as well as at over 6,000 feet in the Caucasus. Probably it also nests in Morocco, though this has not yet been proved, and perhaps also in Tunisia, while in West Asia it breeds in Turkestan. East Asiatic birds apparently belong to another race or races.
Winter range.—The Iceland race (T. totanus robustus) passes through the British Isles and has been recorded from Morocco. The typical race (T. totanus totanus) winters in small numbers in the British Isles and also on the Scandinavian coast, but not in Central Europe, crossing the Mediterranean and wintering in Africa, where it has been recorded in Cape Province and Natal, but only in small numbers, the majority evidently wintering in the Tropics. Eastward it is found in the marshes of Iraq and the shores of the Persian Gulf, but probably Indian birds and those which winter in Ceylon, the Andamans, Malay Peninsula, China, Hainan, Borneo, Java, Sumatra, Philippines, Celebes, Sunda Islands, and Japan belong to other races.
Spring migration.—The passage northward at the Straits of Gibraltar takes place in March and April, while in Tunisia most leave in April, though specimens have been obtained in June (probably non-breeders); and in Egypt it stays till April. In Abyssinia it has been met with in March (March 12, Zoulla) and most leave the marshes of Iraq in mid-May, though some stay till the end of the month. It passes Malta in March and April, and nearly all have left Greece by May, but passes Cyprus in April, arriving in Holland and Denmark in April and Sweden late in that month and reaching Finland early in May. Large numbers passed over St. Catherine's Light in the Isle of Wight from 2.30 a. m. till dawn on April 3 and 4, 1910.
Fall migration.—In south Sweden it leaves in September and also departs from Denmark and Holland about the same time. The passage at the Straits of Gibraltar takes place in September and October and in Malta in September, while in the Iraq marshes the first arrivals take place at the end of July, but the majority come in August, and it is recorded from Fao in August and September, arriving in Egypt in September, while it has occurred as far south as the River Niger in the same month.
Casual records.—It is an occasional visitor on passage to the Canaries and has been met with on Madeira (March 15, April 20, 26, September 24, October 24) as well as in East Greenland (Angmagsalik April 24, May 29).
Egg dates.—In Iceland the eggs are laid from the end of May to early in June, May 28-June 8 (six dates), June 9-18 (five dates). In the British Isles the first eggs are laid at the end of March and through April and May, but late records in May, even in the north, are probably due to second layings: March 28 to April 16 (10 dates); April 17 to 25 (16 dates); April 26 to May 5 (10 dates). In the Shetlands Saxby records the first eggs on May 16. In Holland I have seen some 60 nests between May 11 and 31, but many were undoubtedly second layings. In Salonika eggs have been found as early as March 5.
The names, telltale and tattler, have long been applied to both of the yellow-legs, and deservedly so, for their noisy, talkative habits are their best known traits. They are always on the alert and ever vigilant to warn their less observant or more trusting companions by their loud, insistent cries of alarm that some danger is approaching. Every sportsman knows this trait and tries to avoid arousing this alarm when other, more desirable, game is likely to be frightened away. And many a yellow-legs has been shot by an angry gunner as a reward for his exasperating loquacity.
The two yellow-legs are still left on our list of game birds, because their numbers do not seem to decrease much in spite of the large numbers that are killed every year by sportsmen. William Brewster (1925) says that he has "failed to note any decided lessening of their numbers in New England during the past 30 or 40 years." This stability in numbers is probably more apparent than real. The birds have been driven from many of their former haunts by increased building of summer colonies, improvements in seashore resorts, draining and filling of marshes, and other changes; so that fewer birds can make the restricted localities seem as well populated as ever.
Spring.—The spring migration of the greater yellow-legs is well marked on both coasts and in the interior, a generally northward trend. It begins in March, reaches the northern States in April and extends through May or even into June, although most of the birds are on their breeding grounds in May. The bulk of the flight passes through Massachusetts in May and through California in April. It seems to avoid the prairie regions of southern Canada; William Rowan tells me that he and C. G. Harrold regard it as "probably the scarcest of the regular waders. In years of steady collecting, during the height of the migration, spring and fall, he (Harrold) has seen the greater yellow-legs only half a dozen times." J. A. Munro tells me that in southern British Columbia, Okanagan Landing, it is much less common in spring than in fall; he has recorded it as early as March 23.
J. R. Whitaker writes to me from Newfoundland that he usually sees the first yellow-legs during early May: "On their first arrival the high tundras are still in the grip of winter and many of the ponds on the lower levels are partly covered with ice." John T. Nichols tells me that it is often abundant on Long Island in the spring. He says in his notes: "In May, 1919, the waters of a certain nontidal coastal creek, due to wind conditions, receded to an unprecedented lowness, leaving broad muddy shores exposed where almost always water stands. In what seemed almost a magical response to the unusual water conditions, about 100 greater yellow-legs assembled at the creek, the largest flock I have ever seen. Alighted, the birds were silent, and without the nervous hikkuping one associates with this species. Once all got up and circled in a compact flock to return to the mud and shallows again."
Courtship.—Mr. Whitaker writes to me:
The time for nesting varies as much as 10 days between the few pairs which frequent the lower levels and the bulk of the birds which nest on the high grounds. On the lowlands a pair of birds will take up their quarters near the place they intend to nest soon after their arrival and the cock bird may be seen high up in the air uttering his nesting song. He will sometimes be so high that he appears but a speck against the blue sky. His loud notes carry a long distance and sound like tweda-tweda-tweda uttered quickly and continually for quite a long time.
Dr. Charles W. Townsend (1920) writes:
The courtship song of the greater yellow-legs comes up from the marshes of Essex County throughout the month of May, but is heard in greater volume during the two middle weeks. It has a sweet and pleading character and seems to say wull yer? wull yer? Although it differs from the flickerlike call described in the original Memoir, which may be heard at the same time, it, too, has a decided flickerlike flavor. It is heard throughout the day, but in the evening until it is nearly dark the marshes often resound with the plaintive callings.
H. S. Swarth (1911) observed some greater yellow-legs on the wooded islands of southeastern Alaska in April, of which he says:
At this time the males were going through various courting antics, posing with upraised, quivering wings, or running in circles on the sand bars around the object of their attentions, and incessantly uttering the shrill whistle peculiar to the species.
Nesting.—Considering the fact that the greater yellow-legs is such a common and widely distributed bird, remarkably little has been published on its nesting habits, and comparatively few nests have been found, in spite of the fact that it does not go very far north to breed and its breeding grounds are fairly accessible. I know from personal experience with it that its nest is very hard to find. I have spent many hours hunting for its nest on the high tundras of central Newfoundland, where it breeds commonly, and secured only one set of eggs. The male bird is very noisy and solicitous, flying out to meet the intruder while he is a long way from the nest, alighting on any available spruce tree, stump, rock, or other eminince, pouring out a steady stream of invective cries and showing the greatest anxiety, but giving not the slightest clue as to the location of the nest. And the female sits so closely on the nest that it is only by the merest chance that she can be flushed. The high tundra around Gafftopsail and Quarry, Newfoundland, is an immense tract of boggy ground, full of small ponds and muddy splashes, interspersed with mossy hummocks and outcroppings of rocks. My set was taken there on June 9, 1912; it was in a mere hollow in the moss on a small hummock in a shallow, muddy pond hole; the female was flushed, and the four eggs were fresh.
Mr. Whitaker has sent me the following notes on the nesting habits of the greater yellow-legs in Newfoundland:
On June 17, 1919, whilst walking over a big tundra with a friend (Geo. H. Stuart, 3rd), a yellow-shank which flew up from the side of a water hole showed considerable excitement, there were a number of small ponds just there dotted with mossy islands; we beat all the ground between these ponds but could find nothing, however, we noticed that each time we approached the edge of the tundra where a stunted growth of scattered dead larch trees were, and where the wintergreen, laurel, and labrador tea bushes merged into the sphagnum of the tundra, the bird seemed more excited and flew close round our heads shrieking out his harsh notes tee erk, tee erk, tee erk more fiercely. We decided to hide away at some distance and watch, thinking this must be the hen bird and we would wait until she returned to the nest. We retired several hundred yards and hid in some spruces, the bird following part of the way and alighted on the top of a bush growing in the moss and there remained for upwards of an hour, then flew to a pond near, settling on an island, fed for a while, and after preening went to sleep; this seemed absolutely hopeless, so we decided to have another look over the ground. Each of us had a long pole with a handkerchief tied to the end, with these we covered all the ground which appeared suitable most thoroughly without any results. I then remembered hunting for green-shanks nests in the north of Scotland; there the nests were usually placed on a dry ridge, and seeing such a ridge near the edge of the tundra I suggested to my friend that we should go and look it over. We had not proceeded in its direction more than 10 yards when right in front of me and not more than 6 feet away on the top of a dry peat hummock amongst some scrubby tea plant squatted a yellow-shank with a downy young one on her back. I called my friend, who was only a few yards away; he came and we both watched the bird for some time before putting her up. When she did go there were four downy young in a very slight hollow without any trace of nesting material but a few leaves which had probably blown in. Amongst these we found some fragments of eggshell.
On June 6th of the following year I was out on that tundra again and worked my way towards where we had found the nest, but never saw or heard a sign of the bird. However, I went to the old nest and when within 3 feet to my astonishment saw a yellow-shank lying flat on the nest. I could hardly believe my eyes. I watched her for some time as she sat there perfectly motionless; on putting her up, she began to scold loudly, sometimes flying close round my head and then she would perch on a dead bush near, bobbing her head, uttering tee erk, tee erk, tee erk all the time. Four beautiful eggs lay in the slight depression. I had been there fully 15 minutes when away in the far distance I heard another yellow-shank which quickly approached and was evidently the mate, for they both continued their abuse until I was out of sight. It very often happens that the male bird is not within miles of the incubating female, and under these conditions finding a nest is a mere fluke. There is one rule which holds good in all the nests I have found, and this is that a yellow-legs never nests on ground which is too soft to scratch in. There must be soil or dry, hard peat. I once found a nest on a boulder which had a thin covering of peat and reindeer moss on it, whilst the surrounding ground was wet and mossy, so being unsuitable for making a scratch. The nest is nearly always placed quite close to a flashet or pond of water; I have only twice seen a nest at a distance of 20 yards from any water hole.
William Brewster (1883) found the greater yellow-legs abundant on Anticosti Island in July and, although he found no eggs or young, he obtained "the strongest circumstantial evidence" that the birds were breeding there. The fact that this island has been for many years a protected sanctuary may have had some effect in keeping up the supply of these birds.
Fifty years or more ago Dr. E. W. Nelson (1877a) found several pairs of greater yellow-legs about the Calumet Marshes, which from their actions he felt sure were breeding there. He records a nest and four eggs found near Evanston, Illinois, in June, 1876; "the nest was situated in a slight depression at the base of a small hillock near the border of a prairie slough, and was composed of grass stems and blades."
Ernest S. Norman (1915) while driving over a soft and spongy spot in a swamp, in Manitoba, in which his team nearly became mired, was surprised to see a greater yellow-legs fly up from its nest within 1 foot of the front wheel of the wagon. The nest, which contained four heavily incubated eggs on June 24, is thus described:
The nest was just a depression in the moss, with a few bits of ivy grass as a lining. It had no shelter whatever, as a fire had swept over the place about a month previous to the finding of the nest so that there was not even grass growing anywhere near the nest.
Eggs.—The four eggs, usually comprising the set, of the greater yellow-legs are ovate pyriform in shape and have a slight gloss. They are rather handsomely marked and are practically indistinguishable from eggs of the European greenshank. The ordinary ground colors are pale buff, "light buff" to "cartridge buff." They are irregularly spotted and blotched, chiefly about the larger end, with dark browns, "bay," "liver brown," and "chestnut brown," and with conspicuous underlying spots and blotches of various shades of "purple-drab." An especially handsome set in my collection, one of the most beautiful sets of waders' eggs I have ever seen, is richly colored in reddish browns. The ground colors vary from "pinkish buff" to "orange-cinnamon" or "sayal brown." The four eggs are heavily and boldly marked with large, longitudinal blotches and splashes of rich browns, "claret brown," "mahogany red," and "bay," over underlying blotches, nearly concealed, of various shades of "purple drab." The measurements of 51 eggs average 48.9 by 33 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 53.5 by 33.8, 51.8 by 35.1, 43.7 by 31.5, and 44.9 by 30.8 millimeters.
Young.—We have no data as to the period of incubation or in what way the sexes share it. Both sexes share in the care of the young, which are brooded by the female for the first day. The young birds referred to by Mr. Whitaker had left the nest on the second day.
Plumages.—In the downy young greater yellow-legs a median stripe of "bone brown" extends from the bill upwards, increasing in width until it covers the whole of the occiput; a wide loral stripe of brownish black extends from the bill to the eye; the forehead and sides of the crown are silvery gray; and the cheeks and throat are silky white. The rest of the upper parts, hind neck to rump, are variegated or heavily blotched with "bone brown," "wood brown," and pale buff, the dark color predominating, especially on the rump. The under parts are grayish white, almost gray on the breast.
The juvenal plumage appears first on the scapulars and back and then on the breast. Two young birds, about half grown on June 30, are fully feathered on the mantle; the breast is well feathered, but covered with white downy tips, the wings are half grown, but the tail has not appeared; the crown is "bister," streaked with white; the feathers of the back, scapulars, and wing-coverts are "bister" or "warm sepia," spotted or notched with "pinkish buff" or buffy white, whitest on the upper back and most buffy on the scapulars; the sides of the neck and upper breast are streaked with and the flanks are barred with dusky; the rest of the under parts are white. This plumage is worn for three months or more, well into October. Young birds are in this plumage when they pass us on migration, but the buffy tints have mostly faded out to white.
Beginning in October a partial postjuvenal molt takes place involving the body plumage, most of the scapulars, and some of the wing coverts. This produces a first winter plumage which is similar to that of the adult, but the general tone of the upper parts is grayer and the feathers of the mantle are edged with dull white. The type of William Brewster's Lower California race, frazari, and most of his series of it are in this plumage.
A partial, first prenuptial molt, mainly in March and April, involving the body feathers, most scapulars, some wing coverts and usually the tail, produces a first nuptial plumage. Some adult nuptial plumage is acquired on the head, neck, and breast, but the head and neck are not so heavily streaked and there is less barring in lighter colors on the breast and flanks; but the mantle, back, and scapulars are very different from the adult winter or nuptial plumages; these feathers are more or less variegated, barred or spotted with ashy brown and dark sepia, and are notched, edged, or tipped with gray, grayish white or white, producing a rather evenly mottled appearance. This is apparently a nonbreeding plumage, for I have seen it only in birds taken far south of the breeding range. At the first postnuptial molt the following summer, which is complete, the adult winter plumage is assumed.
Adults have a partial prenuptial molt of the body plumage, usually the tail, scapulars, some tertials, and most wing coverts between February and May. In the nuptial plumage the crown is nearly all dark sepia; the mantle and scapulars are very dark sepia, almost black, notched or tipped with white spots; and the breast and flanks are heavily and irregularly barred with dark sepia. The white notches and tips wear away toward the end of the season. The complete postnuptial molt of the body plumage occurs in August and September, but the wings are not molted until winter. In adult winter plumage the crown is streaked with sepia and white about evenly; the breast and flanks are faintly marked, or peppered, with pale sepia; and the feathers of the back and scapulars are mainly plain "wood brown," with inconspicuous whitish edgings and notches.
Food.—The greater yellow-legs seems to prefer to feed in shallow water; its long legs enable it to wade in deeper water than most other waders, and it is often seen using them to their full extent in water up to its body. It moves about nimbly and gracefully, actively engaged in catching small minnows and water insects, delicately balanced on its long legs, bowing or nodding, as if its body were on a pivot, in a very pleasing manner. Much of its food seems to consist of small minnows, in pursuit of which it is very active and lively. Mr. Nichols has sent me the following notes on the subject:
The greater yellow-legs at times catches killifish up to as large a size as it can swallow, wading in water as deep as it can stand. Having secured a fish, it manipulates same up its long bill and into its mouth. Sometimes it catches a fish tangled in a mass of fine water weed, and in this case may either fiddle with and disengage it, or work it up to its mouth and swallow it before disengaging the bill from the weed. I have seen an unusually large fish, probably (Fundulus heteroclitus), worked up the bird's bill two or three times and turned head first to swallow, stick at the base of the bill, and drop into the water again. Finally, with a great bulging of face and throat, the fish slipped down.
Satisfied for the moment, the bird rose and flew to the leeward end of the pond hole where it had been feeding, alighted, walked up the bank, and stood in a tuft of partly dry grass at the edge of the water, quietly facing out into the breeze for some twenty minutes, although all the time alert and watchful. In this sheltered position it would not have been noticed unless known to be there.
Dr. Paul Bartsch (1899) found a greater yellow-legs in the Washington market whose throat was jammed full of top minnows. He says that many times he has "watched this bird wade out into the shallow water of the bars, moving along slowly with tilting gait, suddenly lower that long head and neck and proceed to run through the water at a speed which would have done credit to a college sprinter, quickly striking to right and left with his bill." Others have noted a similar performance.
I have occasionally seen greater yellow-legs on damp, grassy meadows where they were probably feeding on insects or their larvae, snails, worms, or crustaceans, all of which have been found in their stomachs. Lucien M. Turner refers in his notes to a bird he shot at the mouth of the Koksoak River, Ungava, on September 18, 1882, which had been feeding on the berries of Empetrum nigrum.
Three birds collected by Stuart T. Danforth (1925) had eaten exclusively animal matter: "The recognizable fragments were: Dragon-fly naiads, 65.33 per cent; aquatic Hemiptera (Belostoma species), 22 per cent; fish scales (Poecilia vivipara), 6.0 per cent; Dytiscid larvae, O.66 per cent."
Behavior.—The flight of the greater yellow-legs is quite swift, strong, and well sustained on the downward and sweeping strokes of its long, pointed, dark-colored wings. Its long neck and bill extended forward and its long, yellow legs stretched out behind give it a slender, rakish appearance which is quite distinctive. It usually flies at a good elevation and when traveling it often flies at a great height. It scans the ground beneath, looking for a suitable place to feed or searching for desirable companions. It responds readily to the call of its own species and will often answer an imitation of its notes from a great distance; sometimes when it is too far away to be seen. When coming in from a distance it usually flies in wide circles around the caller several times until it is satisfied that it is safe to alight. It then comes zigzagging or scaling down on down-curved wings and settles lightly near its would-be companions. On alighting it stands for a moment with its wings extended upward in a graceful attitude, folds them deliberately, gives a few jerky bows or upward nods, and then either begins to feed or settles down to rest. It is not very particular as to its companions; it associates freely with any of the smaller waders that frequent the mud flats, meadows, or shallow ponds; it seems to be particularly fond of the companionship of the teals when they are feeding in shallow water. It is not as gregarious as the lesser yellow-legs; it is most often seen singly or in small parties, but I have counted as many as 40 in a flock on rare occasions.
When walking on the ground its movements are lively and its carriage is graceful, though its long legs seem to give it a somewhat jerky gait at times. On its breeding ground it often alights on the tops of spruce or larch trees, or on bushes or dead stubs, on which it balances rather awkwardly. It is normally a shy and wary species; large flocks are very difficult to approach; but sometimes single individuals seem to be absurdly tame in the presence of other tame species or among decoys. Some good photographs of it have been taken at short range. William Brewster (1925) tells of one that he approached in the open to within ten feet and then fired his gun directly over it without causing it to fly. Mr. Nichols suggests, in his notes:
It would seem almost as though these birds drew an abstract danger line, difficult to cross from the outside without alarming them, but once inside which, man became to them a mere harmless item of the landscape. I have had a greater yellow-legs, a bird of the year, come to decoys (under the impression that they were others of its kind) and as the water was too deep, alight and stand on one of the decoys, recognizing in it a piece of wood, meanwhile being remarkably tame, perhaps waiting for others of the flock (of decoys) to take alarm. Is not this pragmatic rather than rational philosophy which they possess, the weakness most in favor of the gunner who hunts shore birds with decoys?
He also adds the following notes on behavior:
I have seen the greater yellow-legs preen its plumage in leisurely manner without repeatedly dipping the bill in the water, as the lesser frequently does. It reached far back over its shoulder, lifted a wing slightly to pick under it, stretched its neck up to reach the breast with its bill, and scratched its chin deliberately with the right foot. On another occasion a bathing bird crouched down in shallow water, ducking the head and at the same time fluttering and splashing vigorously with the wings.
A resting bird stands at ease, neck hunched down, with slight alert movements of the head. From time to time it may turn its bill back and bury it in the feathers along the back with a little shake of same, one eye at least exposed and open though blinking sleepily. An interesting pose which may be assumed for two or three minutes is with the bill resting diagonally downward across the feathers of the breast. It may stand for a long time on one motionless straight leg, inclined so as to bring the foot under its center of gravity, the other leg raised and concealed by the feathers.
Though a wounded lesser yellow-legs will sometimes dive and swim under water, I have not seen the smaller species alight in spots too deep for wading. The greater yellow-legs on the other hand does so not infrequently. It swims gracefully with phalaropelike motion of the neck, held erect, stern tilted up like that of a gull. In shallow water over mud so soft and sticky that it made wading difficult I have seen a bird launch itself forward, swimming, as the easier method of propulsion.
Voice.—Mr. Nichols (1920) has published the results of a detailed study of the vocabularies of the two yellow-legs, which are noted for the variety of their calls. He has recognized and described nine different calls of the greater yellow-legs, as follows:
(1) The yodle (a rolling toowhee toowhee, etc.) is commonest in a flock from birds remaining in one locality, not traveling. I think I have heard it from a single bird in the fog. It is characteristically given in the air, generally with set wings, by birds which seem to contemplate alighting. It advertises birds tarrying in one general locality, and has probably the function of location notice. It is doubtless homologous with the gather call of the spotted sandpiper with which it has little analogy.
(2) Loud ringing 3, wheu wheu wheu. The characteristic cry of the species, spring and fall. It is commonly given by passing or leaving birds. It advertises the species—and a change of policy in the individual according to its loudness. Analogous with notes of other species spoken of as flight notes or identification notes; occasionally heard from an alighted bird. This call is subject to considerable variation, when heard from a bird about to drop down and join others feeding it is comparatively low-pitched and even, leaving or about to leave a feeding ground, highly modulated.
(3) Four wheus, heard as follows, seem to have a rather definite significance: low, hurried, descending, heard from a bird leaving companion; short, clear, four, by a following bird; loud, four, bird without intention of alighting, trying to flush decoys. This may be called a recruiting call.
(4) Twos (wheu wheu) seem to be characteristic of a recruit. A "gentle" bird which comes nicely to decoys is apt to call in twos when approaching and coming in.
(5) Rarely, in taking wing in the presence of an intruder, a single bird utters a string of unmodulated wheus which breaks up into threes or fours as it goes off. This is likely a note of protest, which would be more common in the breeding season.
(6) Conversational murmuring, from a flock dropping in, expresses companionship and confidence.
(7) Conversational chup notes from birds about to alight, also heard from birds alighted, moving about at ease. The alighting note.
(8) Unloud chups identical with the preceding but more hurried, given by a small flock of birds as they take wing. The flushing note.
(9) Kyow, common in spring, only rarely heard in southward migration; probably associated with the breeding season; seems to express suspicion.
Different renderings of some of the above notes have been given by others. Mr. Brewster (1883) describes a note heard on the breeding grounds as "an incessant clack-clack-clack-clack, which sounded very like the clatter of a mowing machine." He then goes on to say: "In addition to the cry already described, they uttered a rolling pheu-pheu-phe, pheu-pheu-phe, repeated a dozen times or more in quick succession; a mellow pheu, pheu, pheu, resembling the whistle of the fish hawk; and a soft, hollow hoo, whoo, whoo, very like the cooing of a dove. The latter note was given only when the bird perched on the top of some tall spruce."
Field marks.—The greater yellow-legs resembles the lesser so closely in color pattern that the two can not be readily distinguished except by direct comparison in size. The bill of the greater is relatively larger, and it is rather more boldly marked. The voices of the two are somewhat different. Other characters are referred to under the next species.
Fall.—Adults move off their breeding grounds at an early date and loiter along in a leisurely manner. The first migrants appear in the northern states in July, sometimes as early as the second or even the first week. Young birds come later; there is usually a heavy flight of them during the first half of October, and many linger in Massachusetts until the middle of November or later. Mr. Brewster (1925) says of the migration at Umbagog Lake, Maine:
"We often saw them arriving and departing by day, usually in the early morning or late afternoon if the weather were fine, at almost any time if it were stormy. When seen approaching from farther north, they were commonly first sighted so high in the air that they looked no bigger than swallows. After circling twice or thrice over the lake on set wings, whistling loudly and volubly, they were likely to pitch headlong into the marshes to feed and rest there during the remainder of the day, if not for a considerably longer period, provided no gunner happened to fare that way. Some, however, kept straight on without stopping and perhaps without lowering their line of flight below the level of the mountain tops to the southward over which they were accustomed to pass."
Mr. Whitaker tells me that the last of the yellow-shanks move out of Newfoundland about the end of October; these are probably all young birds. And Edward S. Thomas sends me a record for Columbus, Ohio, of December 11, 1925. This bird well deserves the name of "winter yellow-legs."
Probably many migrate at sea, from Nova Scotia to the West Indies, for Capt. Savile G. Reid (1884) says that it is "more or less common" in Bermuda, "arriving early in August and remaining for a month or so," where it is "much in request among the energetic sportsmen."
Game.—The greater yellow-legs is a fine game bird; I can not say as much for the lesser yellow-legs. Large numbers have been shot in past years. Prof. Wells W. Cooke (1912) says: "A hunter near Newport, Rhode Island, shot 1,362 greater yellow-legs in the eight seasons, 1867-1874; his highest score, 419 birds, was in 1873, from August 19 to October 19." Dr. Charles W. Townsend (1905) reports that "463 greater yellow-legs were sent from Newburyport and vicinity on one day, October 11, 1904, to a single stall in Boston market." I knew an old gunner who celebrated his eightieth birthday a few years ago by shooting 40 yellow-legs.
It is a pity that the delightful sport of bay-bird shooting, which was such a pleasant feature of our earlier shooting days, had to be gradually restricted. Hudsonian curlew, and black-bellied and golden plover and greater yellow-legs were all fine game birds. I could see no reason for cutting out the curlew, as it is well able to take care of itself; golden plover were sadly depleted in numbers and black-bellied plover and both yellow-legs were decreasing; perhaps it was wise to eliminate them all.
Those were glorious days that we used to spend on the marshes of Cape Cod. On the inner, or bay, side of Monomoy are extensive marshes, meadows, sand flats, and mud flats, 9 miles in length and nearly a mile wide in places at low tide. These were great feeding resorts for hosts of shore birds; and in the good old days, when there were shore birds to shoot and when we were allowed to shoot them, blinds were scattered all along the marshes and flats. On a dry sand spit or beach a hole was dug in the sand and seaweed was piled up around it high enough to conceal a sitting gunner; on a wet marsh a substantial blind was built of brush, with a seat in it for two men; in some places in the meadows, where the grass grew high, a box or a board to sit on was all the gunner needed. Wooden or tin decoys painted to imitate yellow-legs or plover were set up in the sand or mud, all facing the wind and within easy range. Here in a comfortable blind the hunter could lounge at ease, bask in the genial sun of early autumn, smoke his pipe and meditate, or watch the many interesting things about him, the rich autumn colors of the marsh vegetation, the ever-changing picture of sky and sea, the black terns and the swallows winnowing the meadows, the gulls and the terns over the sea and the flocks of small waders running over the mud flats. Suddenly he is awakened from his reveries by the well-known note of the winter yellow-legs and discerns a mere speck in the distant sky; he whistles an imitation of its note; the bird answers him and, looking for companionship, circles nearer; by judicious calling the bird is attracted within sight of the decoys and, after several cautious circlings, it sets its wings and scales down to the decoys, where it meets its fate. Perhaps a whole flock may slip in unexpectedly, wheel over the decoys and hurry away, giving the gunner only a hurried chance for a quick shot. Perhaps a curlew may fly over or a flock of beetle-heads fly swiftly by; the gunner must be ready for all such chances. There is an ever-changing panorama of bird life on the marshes, full of surprises and delights for the nature lover.
Winter.—The greater yellow-legs has a wide winter range, from the southern United States, where it is comparatively rare, to southern South America, where most of the birds seem to go. W. H. Hudson (1920) says:
The greater yellow-legs is best known as an Arctic-American species, descending south during migration, and arriving in La Plata at the end of September or early in October, singly or in pairs, and sometimes in small flocks. Without ever being abundant the bird is quite common, and one can seldom approach a pool or marsh on the pampas without seeing one or more individuals wading near the margin, and hearing their powerful alarm cry—a long, clear note repeated three times. These summer visitors leave us in March, and then, oddly enough, others arrive, presumably from the south to winter on the pampas, and remain from April to August. Thus, notwithstanding that the yellow-shanks does not breed on the pampas, we have it with us all the year 'round.