A striking case of the survival of the fittest is seen when we compare the relative abundance of the three common species of North American curlews to-day with their status 50 years ago. Whereas, at that time the Hudsonian curlew was the rarest of the three, it is now by far the commonest. The vast flocks of Eskimo curlew, that formerly frequented the Labrador coast every summer and visited the New England coast at frequent intervals, have all disappeared. They were tame and unsuspicious, were easily decoyed, and were therefore slaughtered in enormous numbers on their feeding grounds; they made a long migratory flight over the ocean from Nova Scotia to South America, where many undoubtedly perished in stormy weather. The long-billed curlew, once so common all over the interior prairie regions, and even on the Atlantic coast, has gradually been driven westward and northward, until it is now occupying a comparatively restricted range. The long-billed will probably be the next of the curlews to disappear, perhaps within the near future. But the Hudsonian curlew, on the other hand, has held its own, and in some sections it has apparently increased. This increase, however, is probably more apparent than real, due to comparison with other species which are decreasing rapidly. The reasons for its success in the struggle for existence are not hard to find. Its breeding grounds are in the far north, where it is never disturbed; it has no dangerous migration route; it does not ordinarily migrate in large flocks, which are susceptible to vicissitudes of weather and great slaughter at the hands of gunners; but, above all, it is a shy, wary, wily bird, quite capable of taking care of itself and well fitted to survive. Like the crow, it is more than a match for its enemies.

The Hudsonian curlew was evidently comparatively rare in Audubon’s time, for he apparently knew very little about it. Wilson seems to have overlooked it entirely or to have confused it with the Eskimo curlew, and Nuttall’s remarks are not altogether clear on the subject. George H. Mackay (1892b) says:

Speaking for Nantucket and Tuckernuck Islands, as far as I am aware, not over 15 or 20 of these birds a year on an average have been shot there during the past 17 years, and the local saying, that “it does not pay to go after them,” is true, they being too shy and too limited in number to make it any object, either for gain or for pleasure. During these 17 years there have never been more than 100 birds on an average living on the above islands each year, and for the past few years I have noticed a falling off from this number.

I am quite sure that I have seen more Hudsonian curlews on Cape Cod during the past 10 years that I saw during the previous 20. The species certainly has not decreased, and I am inclined to think that it has increased. The 1927 fall flight was unusually heavy.

Spring.—From its winter range on the Pacific coast of South America this curlew migrates through Central America to Florida and up the Atlantic coast. It reaches Florida during the latter half of March, the Carolinas about the middle of April, and Massachusetts about the middle of May. During a week spent with Arthur T. Wayne on the South Carolina coast May 18 to 25, 1915, I saw the last part of a heavy flight of Hudsonian curlews. Mr. Wayne told me that the first birds come early in April, but the height of the migration is between the third week in April and the second week in May, when enormous numbers (he says hundreds of thousands) may be seen every day. We saw no such numbers, but numerous flocks were seen every morning flying in to feed on fiddler crabs on the extensive marshes and flying out again at night to roost on the sand bars and islands. They flew high in the air in V-shaped flocks or in long irregular lines and their loud notes could be heard almost constantly.

Herbert K. Job (1905) saw them here in “scores of thousands”; he spent a night at each of several little low islands—mere sand bars—lying off the coast, and says:

About half past 5 or 6 o’clock, when the sun was low in the horizon or had set behind a cloud bank, the first advancing line is seen, and a string of from a dozen to 50 Hudsonian curlews come scaling over the beach, to alight on the bar, down at the other end. After a few minutes another flock is seen approaching. By half past 6 they are arriving fast, and by 7 there are two or three flocks in sight all the time, some of them containing as many as 75 birds. Meantime I am shooting at them as they pass, with my reflex camera, despite the dull light. As may be imagined, the company on the sand has become immense, covering many acres. They keep up a sort of murmuring noise, and now and then all fly up, with a perfect storm and tumult of wings and voices, soon to alight again. Even after dark they are yet arriving, as one may hear. I hazard the guess that there are often 10,000 curlews at such a roost each night. At the first glimmer of day they are off again for the marshes.

Mr. Wayne (1910) makes the following interesting suggestion:

This species supplanted the long-billed curlew between the years 1883 and 1885, for previous to these dates the former species was rare, but it gradually became more abundant each year until it established itself firmly in great numbers. The result was that the long-billed curlew was driven from its accustomed range by a smaller species in the struggle for existence. The long-billed curlews fed almost entirely upon fiddlers, and the Hudsonian curlew also subsisted upon them, and as the food supply was inadequate, one species was forced to seek other paths of migration.

The Hudsonian curlew seems to be a rare migrant everywhere in the interior; some of my correspondents do not mention it at all and others give only scattering records. But William I. Lyon writes to me that he saw a flock of about 100 on May 22, 1926, in Illinois; they were flying in V formation, uttering their characteristic four short whistles, and breaking sometimes from a V into a line. Edwin Beaupre tells me that “the foot of Amherst Island, in Lake Ontario, is a favorite crossing place for these curlews in their northward flight. May 24 is the date on which they may be looked for, passing through this locality in one large flock.”

J. A. Munro (1911) records a heavy flight which occurred at Fisherman’s Island, Toronto, during three days, May 24 to 26, 1910; a careful count was made of passing flocks in which over 1,000 birds were recorded. Probably the main flight from the Atlantic coast turns inland before it reaches New England and flies by way of the Great Lakes to the west side of Hudson Bay. The species is rare in New England in the spring.

Along the Pacific coast there is a heavy migration; the main flight appears in southern California about the middle of March, progresses slowly northward, reaches Alaska about the middle of May, and arrives on the breeding grounds in northern Mackenzie by the end of May. In California the main migration route is coastwise, the bulk of the flight coming in April; but John G. Tyler (1913) records them as “regular spring migrants” in the interior valleys. “Their favorite resorts are large, open fields where shallow ponds occur, and in such places they often gather in large numbers.” D. E. Brown’s notes record them as common, or very abundant at times, in Washington, flocks of 40 or 50 birds being not at all uncommon; his dates run from April 7 to May 14.

Nesting.—The best account of the nesting habits of this species and its behavior on its breeding grounds is given us by Dr. Joseph Grinnell (1900), who found eight nests in the Kotzebue Sound region of northern Alaska; he writes:

I found the Hudsonian curlew to be a common breeding bird over the tundras from Cape Blossom eastward into the Kowak Valley. In the vicinity of our winter camp on the Kowak, the arrival of the curlews was on May 17. From the middle to the last of June, in the Kowak delta, I became well acquainted with the Hudsonian curlew. At this season they were of course mated and most of them had eggs. They were ordinarily met with on the open stretches of tundra, often where these alternate with strips of timber and lakes. Where such perches are afforded, solitary birds on watch would be seen sitting on the tips of isolated dwarfed spruces or even willow bushes. As soon as an intruder entered the domains of a pair of curlew, the bird on watch would give the alarm by a loud, ringing call note, and soon both birds would fly to meet him. As long as the intruder remains in the vicinity, the pair of birds keep flying restlessly to and fro, now and then alighting on the ground and walking about, but most of the time keeping up their monotonous rolling whistle. This was the only note I heard, except earlier in the season a long, faint whistle like that of a distant locomotive, uttered by the male bird while sailing slowly, on set motionless wings over the nesting grounds. This is probably their song flight, though it is certainly very simple. The far-off whistle, however, puzzled me for some time as to its origin. I at first thought it was a steam launch on the river somewhere, until I finally connected the sound with the slow soaring of the curlew overhead.

The eggs so closely resemble the monotonous lights and shadows of the surrounding moss and grass that I have stepped directly over the nest, all the while scrutinizing every foot of the ground about me, without detecting the eggs. Sometimes from the nature of the surroundings the eggs are more conspicuous and can be seen 10 yards or more, but this is the exception. While one is at the nest, the parents fly close about one, almost deafening one with their loud penetrating cries. If anything the male bird is the most demonstrative of the two. The nest is simply a saucer-shaped depression in the top of a low hummock of moss or grass. The locality was always a wet swale or low place in the tundra, in which the clumps of grass or moss were often surrounded at their bases with water. The nests were in no way protected, the eggs always being in plain view, but the remarkable mimicry in their coloration is generally of sufficient protection.

MacFarlane collected some 13 sets of eggs on the barren grounds west of the lower Anderson River, but I find only one nest described in his notes; this he said was “a depression in the ground, lined with a few decayed leaves.” Stanton Warburton, Jr. took a set of three eggs near Teller, Alaska, on July 4, 1924; he writes to me that “the nest was situated on hard, dry tundra, the eggs occupying a slight depression in light grasses; distinctive nesting material of grey lichen-light material covered the cavity. Both birds were present.” A nest found by Bishop J. O. Stringer on an island in the lower Mackenzie River is described as a pile of grass, moss, and weeds.

Eggs.—The Hudsonian curlew lays almost invariably four eggs, though the set of three referred to above was heavily incubated. The eggs are hardly, if at all, distinguishable from those of the European whimbrel. They are ovate pyriform, rather pointed, in shape and show little or no gloss. Doctor Grinnell (1900) describes them as follows:

Their ground color is very variable, from a bluish pea green through olive buff to light olive green. The markings are numerous and somewhat amassed at the larger ends of the eggs. They consist of dots, spots, and blotches of pale lavender, drab, Prout’s brown, and bistre. The latter seems in every case the real pigment, and the varying depth to which it is covered with subsequent layers of shell material, seems to account for the different tints, even to the palest lavender.

In the few sets that I have seen the prevailing ground colors are dark and light shades of “olive buff,” with occasionally “Isabella color” or “ecru olive.” In the markings I recognized various browns, such as “bone brown,” “warm sepia,” “Saccardo’s umber,” “olive brown,” and “buffy brown.” The measurements of 37 eggs average 57.5 by 40.7 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 61.9 by 41.7, 59.2 by 43.2, 52 by 38.5, and 55 by 37.2 millimeters.

Plumages.—I have never seen a downy young Hudsonian curlew, and, so far as I know, it has never been described. Young birds are in juvenal plumage when they reach us on migration. They are more easily recognized by their much shorter bills than by any plumage differences, as they look much like adults. The markings on the neck and breast are finer and closer; the feathers of the back, scapulars, tertials, and wing coverts are “warm sepia,” notched with cream-white or pale buff, producing a spotted effect, most pronounced on the wing coverts and tertials (in adults these parts are more narrowly edged with buff); the rump is “sepia,” with large spots of “pinkish buff,” and the upper tail coverts are barred with the same colors; the under parts are more buffy than in adults and the whole effect is brighter and more variegated.

A postjuvenal body molt in late fall or early winter, which almost runs into a first prenuptial molt, produces a plumage, which can be distinguished from the adult only by the faded juvenal wing coverts and the bird becomes fully adult at the next postnuptial molt.

Adults have a complete postnuptial molt, beginning with the body molt in August and ending with the molt of the primaries in the winter; soon after the wings are molted, or from February to May they have a partial prenuptial molt, including the body plumage, the tail, and some of the scapulars and wing coverts.

Food.—Hudsonian curlews are mainly shore feeders; on the beaches and sand flats they pick up various insects, worms, small mollusks, and crustaceans, often probing for the sand fleas in the wet sand; on the mud flats they find similar animal food. I have also often seen them on the marshes, or even on high, dry pasture lands, such as are frequented by golden plover and Eskimo curlews, where they find grasshoppers, spiders, beetles, and other insects. In South Carolina we saw them at low tide on the oyster banks and on the mud banks riddled with holes of fiddler crabs, on which they were doubtless feeding. In the Magdalen Islands I have seen them on the uplands and among the sand dunes, where they were evidently eating crow berries (Empetrum nigrum). They are also said to eat blueberries, dewberries, and various seeds. E. W. Hadeler tells me that he once saw them feeding on the bodies of light-colored millers; the beach was lined with these moths, some dead and others alive, and the curlews did not like to leave this abundant supply of food.

Mr. Mackay (1892b) says:

They feed on fiddler crabs, grasshoppers, and the large gray sand spiders (Lycosa) which live in holes in the sand among the beach grass adjacent to headlands, huckleberries, which they pick from the bushes, and beetles (Lachnosterna, Scarabaeidae), all of which are usually mixed with coarse gravel. When a flock of these birds is on the ground where they have been feeding they become scattered, 25 or 30 birds covering 15 or 20 yards’ space. At such times they do not appear to be particularly active, moving about in a rather slow, stately manner, although I have once in a while seen them run.

L. L. Jewel (1913) writes:

One of the bird surprises of my life was to see a Hudsonian curlew tiptoe and catch butterflies within 20 feet of my front door at Gatun. The clearings in and around the town seemed very attractive to these birds and they were fairly tame. Marching or advancing by rushes, always with graceful dignity, sometimes singly but more often in groups of four or five, they foraged through the shorter grass, picking up or catching on the wing their insect food. They usually kept near the water’s edge or well down in dry gullies, but also fed on higher ground at times.

Behavior.—Although Hudsonian curlews may fly swiftly at times and probably make good speed when traveling they appear to me to fly rather slowly and heavily, with steady and rather moderate wing beats; they often set their wings and scale for a long distance. When migrating over land they usually fly high, in flocks, much after the manner of ducks and geese; but when migrating over water or flying to and from their roosting grounds they often fly in long lines close to the water. Their flight has been said to resemble the flight of gulls when moving in flocks, or to suggest that of herons when flying close to the water, but I could never see any such resemblance.

Dr. Charles W. Townsend (1905) says:

They walk and run rapidly, stand still, often with one foot several inches in front of the other, rest occasionally by squatting down, with tarsi flat on the ground, or standing upon one leg, with the other out behind.

William L. Dawson (1923) writes:

The curlews deploy, then, upon the dry sands of the upper beach and either potter about on listless lookout for passing insects or else squat upon the sand, tuck bill under wing, and lose themselves in dreams. There is always at least one wary fellow on guard, however, and let but the smallest appearance of motion, be it only a khaki hat, break the purity of the sky line among the attendant sand dunes, and a quaver of warning puts the scattered flock on guard. Sleepy heads are stealthily withdrawn; the birds rise slowly and begin to creep toward their leader, their neutral-colored bodies scarcely distinguishable against the background of sand; and all meanwhile scanning the horizon for the danger sign. If the alarm spreads, all run down the beach slope for a quick take-off, pass over the surf line, and then parallel the shore with moderate, firm wing strokes until a safe distance has been reached.

Voice.—John T. Nichols says in his notes:

The flight note of the Hudsonian curlew in migration resembles somewhat that of the greater yellowlegs, but is easily distinguished therefrom, being less modulated and usually lower pitched. It commonly consists of four short whistles, but is frequently prolonged, sometimes accelerated into a trill. The more prolonged calls are usually the dryer and seem characteristic of the noisiest birds, flying highest or with most uncertainty. On its northern breeding grounds (Nome, July, 1926) this species keeps up a continual vocal protest while an intruder is present. Its note then matches in form the trills which may be heard in migration but is much more musical and varied in quality. It may be described as polysyllabic, rolling, usually 10 syllabled or less; modulated and varied in tone—loud, reedy, sweet, mellow, or liquid. It is the same when the bird is in the air as when it is on the ground.

Mr. Mackay (1892b) says that the rolling note sounds like “that produced by a boy’s lead bird whistle filled with water.” They also have a soft, musical cur-lew note, more often heard in the spring. Dr. E. R. P. Janvrin says in his notes: “The note uttered during flight, usually just after the birds are put up and apparently an alarm note, sounds like krek, krek, krek, quite loud and rather metallic.” E. W. Hadeler refers to this note as pip, pip, uttered five or six times in rapid succession.

John G. Tyler (1913) writes:

There are no birds with which I am acquainted that can compare with these splendid waders in the rich, musical quality of their voices. On the last day of one April I encountered a large flock of curlews in a grain field, part of which was being flooded at the time with irrigation water. The nervous lispings that at my approach threatened to break into the clamorous, screaming flight calls finally subsided, and the birds fed and waded about in the water or preened their feathers while standing storklike on one leg. Suddenly I was thrilled with a medley of subdued pipings so marvelously sweet and musical that I could hardly believe the sound came from my flock of curlews. The faintest whispering it seemed, yet the liquid melody was really far-reaching and was, as I afterwards learned, distinctly audible from a distance of a quarter of a mile when atmospheric conditions were favorable. A strange nervous unrest seemed to affect the entire group on the ground. The whistlings became louder, and the cause was suddenly revealed to me when a curlew call from overhead drew my attention to a flock of new arrivals, nine in number, that were circling preparatory to joining the company at the pond. My surprise and admiration knew no bounds when I realized the sublime heights at which these travelers through the sky had been flying. Mere specks they appeared, and yet their melodious call rang clear and distinct.

Field marks.—A large, rather pale brown bird with a long, decurved bill can easily be recognized as a curlew; the long-billed curlew is larger, has a longer bill, and is much more rufous or cinnamon colored, especially in the wings; the Eskimo curlew is, or was, smaller, with a shorter bill, though young Hudsonians have rather short bills. Mr. Nichols suggests that at close range the much barred under wing can frequently be noticed; the outer primaries look blacker and plainer than in long-billed, and a white streak near the edge of the wing, made by the primary quills, is cut off abruptly at the base by a blackish blotch.

Fall.—Like most of the northern breeding shore birds, the Hudsonian curlew moves off its breeding grounds as soon as the young are able to shift for themselves, and begins its summer wanderings, or starts on its southward migration early in July. There are two main lines of flight, down the east and west coasts of the continent, as well as a more scattering flight through the central valleys and plains. The eastward flight is from the west coast of Hudson Bay, where many birds linger through August, to the coasts of New England and southward. A few Hudsonian curlews migrate as far east as Labrador; the species has never been common there, but since the disappearance of the Eskimo curlew it has been more in evidence; Lucien M. Turner recorded it only twice in northern Ungava; a few specimens have been taken on the east coast of Labrador.

Adults appear on the coast of Massachusetts about the middle of July and the young birds about a month later; the heaviest flights come in August and September, but young birds often linger well into October; my latest date is October 20. They reach the Carolinas in July; Mr. Wayne (1910) says that he has seen them as early as July 5 and not later than October 2. They are reported as migrating over the Bermudas in August and September, but the last of the birds do not leave the West Indies until November.

Pacific coast flights occur on corresponding dates. Early in August, when the blueberries and crowberries are ripening, large flocks of this and bristle-thighed curlews come down to the Bering Sea coast of Alaska, where large numbers are brought into the markets at Nome all through August and early September. From there the migration is southward along the Pacific coast. D. E. Brown’s dates for Pierce County, Wash., run from August 6 to October 2, but probably there are earlier dates. The earliest birds reach southern California about the first week in July and the latest birds linger through October. Meantime some of the birds have appeared in Peru early in August and in Chile by the middle of that month.

Game.—The Hudsonian, or “jack,” curlew is a gamey bird, which will test the skill and try the patience of the most experienced sportsman. It is so shy and vigilant that it is difficult to outwit. It is almost impossible to stalk an old bird, but I have, on rare occasions, been able to creep up on a young bird. Most of my chances have been at single birds flying over, when several gunners have been spread over ground where scattered birds were feeding. Once a flock of 15 birds swung by my blind within range, but they did not alight to my decoys. Referring to the “good old days,” Mr. Mackay (1892b) writes:

They were apparently as shy then as now, for even then it was considered essential in order to take them to mortise a hole in the ground for concealment in the locality which they frequented or passed over, care being taken to remove the soil taken out to some distance in a wagon in order that the place might appear perfectly natural. Stands were dug in the center of a clump of bushes, as being less noticeable. In times past, on Cape Cod, I have used a hogshead, sunken level with the marsh, from which to shoot them, but even under such conditions I never secured more than nine in one day, and that only once. The Hudsonian curlew is a very observing bird and perceives at once anything strange and out of harmony with the natural surroundings of any locality which it has been in the habit of frequenting, and in order to get a flock up to the decoys considerable care must be exercised. Single birds or pairs will, however, decoy fairly well if they have not been harassed. These birds have a way of setting their wings stationary and sailing, when headed for the decoys, at a distance of 100 yards or more, the flock separating out so that there are scarcely any two birds together, and then hanging, as it were, in the air. During this time they are most carefully listening and scanning the decoys and surroundings. A movement causes them to spring up in the air several feet, and as this is generally when aim is being taken they are apt to be missed by being undershot. In order to get them as near as possible I have frequently set my decoys only a few feet to windward of my stand, as it is customary for them, when heading for the decoys, to keep falling off to leeward of them. They are not an easy bird to kill, being strong and powerful, and as the distance is usually great at which they are shot at, owing to their vigilance, many go off wounded and are not recovered. Should one or more be wing-broken they frequently commence falling, which causes the remainder of the flock to hover around for a short time, apparently to give encouragement to the wounded ones, and while their attention is thus absorbed they will often afford the sportsman a second shot, if he keeps concealed. Were it not for the satisfaction of getting so shy a bird, for, as a rule, they are but indifferent eating, there would be little inducement to waste the time necessary to obtain an occasional one. I take a few every year by getting out of my wagon into some place of concealment, when I observe a flock in the distance on the ground, and letting my companion drive around the other side and start them toward me. Long familiarity with the ground enables me to form some idea as to what course they are likely to pursue, and I have obtained more or less in this manner.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—North and South America; accidental in Europe.

Breeding range.—The Hudsonian curlew is known to breed only on the Arctic coast of North America from Alaska (Norton Sound, Kobuk River, Cape Blossom, and probably Camden Bay) to Mackenzie (Anderson River region). It has, however, been noted in summer in Keewatin (Fort Churchill and near York Factory) and may possibly breed in that vicinity.

In common with several other shore birds, some individuals remain in summer far south of their breeding grounds. At this season they have been detected from New Jersey (Great Bay), south along the Atlantic coast—Virginia (Wreck Island, Bone Island, and Wallops Island); South Carolina (Mount Pleasant); to Costa Rica (Coronado de Terraba); and the West Indies (Barbuda).

Winter range.—The winter range extends north probably to southern California (Santa Cruz Island, Santa Barbara, and Ventura County); probably rarely Louisiana; and rarely (formerly more commonly) South Carolina (Bullyard Sound and probably Charleston). East to formerly South Carolina (probably Charleston, Sea Islands, and Frogmore); probably rarely Florida (Pine Island); probably Cuba; probably rarely Porto Rico (Gundlach); the Lesser Antilles (Barbuda); Guiana (Berbice River and Cayenne); Brazil (Praia de Cajetuba); and Chile (Island of Chiloe). South to Chile (Island of Chiloe). West to Chile (Island of Chiloe, Valdivia, Valparaiso, and Tarapaca); Peru (Lima, Trujillo, and Tumbez); Ecuador (Bay of Santa Elena); Galapagos Islands (Charles and Narborough Islands); Venezuela (Isla de Aves); Costa Rica; Honduras (Gulf of Fonseca); Guatemala (Chiapam); Clipperton Island; Chiapas (San Benito); Jalisco (La Barca); Sinaloa (Mazatlan); Lower California (La Paz, San Jose Island, San Francisco Island, and Colorado River Delta); and probably southern California (Santa Cruz Island). A specimen obtained at Rockaway Beach, New York, on December 24, 1912, probably was either a crippled bird or otherwise physically deficient.

Spring migration.—Early dates of spring arrival are: North Carolina, Corolla, April 15, and Churchs Island, April 19; Virginia, Hog Island, April 1, and Cape Charles, April 13; Pennsylvania, Renovo, May 7; New Jersey, Cape May, April 12; New York, Montauk, April 28, and Shelter Island, May 9; Connecticut, Fairfield, May 6; Rhode Island, Newport, April 27, and Block Island, May 3; Massachusetts, Nantucket, April 10, and Muskeget Island, April 20; Ontario, Brighton, May 7, and Toronto, May 17; Mackenzie, Fort Anderson, May 29; northern California, Alameda, March 27, and Palo Alto, March 28; Oregon, Newport, March 14; Washington, Hoquiam, April 19, and Everett, April 26; British Columbia, Comox, May 3, and Courtenay, May 11; and Alaska, Craig, May 12, Nulato River, May 12, Hooper Bay, May 17, Kobuk River, May 17, and Fort Kenai, May 18.

Late dates of spring departure are: Chile, Concon, April 25; Oaxaca, San Mateo, May 13; Florida, Palma Sola, May 11, and St. Marks, May 19; Georgia, Savannah, May 13; South Carolina, Port Royal, May 22, and Charleston, May 23; North Carolina, Pea and Bodie Islands, May 8; Virginia, Locustville, May 27, and Alexandria, May 30; Pennsylvania, Lancaster, May 27; New Jersey, Cape May, May 23; New York, Long Beach, May 31, Canandaigua, June 1, and Branchport, June 2; Connecticut, East Haven, June 4; Massachusetts, Cape Cod, June 23, and Nantucket, June 25; Ohio, Youngstown, May 24; Ontario, Point Pelee, May 30, Beaumaris, June 4, and Brighton, June 10; Tepic, Las Penas Island, May 5; Lower California, Colima Point, April 25, and San Jose del Cabo, May 1; California, Santa Barbara, June 2; Oregon, Mercer, May 14, and Yaquina Bay, May 18; Washington, Quillayute Needles, May 30, and Dungeness Spit, June 3; and British Columbia, Courtenay, May 23.

Fall migration.—Early dates of fall arrival are: British Columbia, Courtenay, June 27; Washington, Lake Ozette, July 12, and Destruction Island, July 15; Oregon, Newport, July 10; California, Alameda, July 7, Los Angeles, July 12, and Farallon Islands, July 16; Lower California, Los Coronados Islands, August 7, and Santa Rosalia, August 15; Peru, Chimbote, August 2; Ontario, Point Pelee, July 24; Ohio, Lake County, July 14; Massachusetts, Muskeget Island, July 12, Monomoy Island, July 14, Marthas Vineyard, July 16, and Boston, July 18; Rhode Island, Block Island, July 10, and South Auburn, July 23; Connecticut, Milford, July 20, and North Haven, July 26; New York, Rockaway, July 10, East Hampton, July 11, and Orient, July 11; New Jersey, Tuckerton Bay, July 2, Long Beach, July 9, and Cape May, July 15; Pennsylvania, Erie, August 1; Bermuda, August 14; Virginia, Chincoteague, August 1; North Carolina, Pea and Bodie Islands, July 22; South Carolina, Charleston, July 19; Georgia, Savannah, July 27; Alabama, Dauphin Island, July 27; Florida, Bradenton, July 31, and Tarpon Springs, August 3; and West Indies, Barbuda, August 12.

Late dates of fall departure are: Alaska, Craig, September 24, and St. Lazaria Island, September 30; Mackenzie, Great Bear Lake, September 30; British Columbia, Courtenay, October 5; Washington, Clallam Bay, October 9, and Point Chehalis, October 19; Ontario, Brighton, September 1; Quebec, Montreal, September 9; Nova Scotia, Wolfville, September 13; Maine, Northeast Harbor, September 5; Portland, September 9, and Dover, October 12; Massachusetts, Monomoy Island, September 28, Harvard, October 2, and Dennis, October 27; Rhode Island, Sakonnet Point, September 25, Rock Island, September 28, and Newport, October 2; Connecticut, New Haven, September 19, and North Haven, September 20; New York, Montauk Light Station, September 28, and Orient Point, September 30; New Jersey, Sandy Hook, September 13; and Virginia, Wallops Island, September 23, and Hog Island, November 10.

Casual records.—The Hudsonian curlew is of hardly more than accidental occurrence in the interior but has been noted on a few occasions. In addition to notes given under migration, mention may be made of the following records: Colorado, a specimen at Colorado Springs on September 23, 1900; New Mexico, a specimen at Fort Thorn in the spring of 1854; Texas, Brownsville, several records in spring between March 31 and May 24; Nebraska, Lincoln, October 8, 1898; Wisconsin, Milwaukee, September 9, 1903, and Cedar Grove, September 23, 1922; Iowa, Crystal Lake, Hancock County, May 25, 1895; Michigan, St. Clair Flats, May 25, 1902, Saginaw City, fall of 1896, and Forestville, April 23, 1906; and Indiana, Calumet Heights, August 3, 1902. Reports exist for other interior States but usually without satisfactory evidence.

Both Macoun and Hagerup list it as occurring in Newfoundland, but without any presentation of the evidence. In Porto Rico, Gundlach reported collecting it at Punta Arenas, and also refers to a specimen in a collection at San Juan, Stahl secured two others which were preserved in his collection, F. A. Potts obtained one May 21, 1921, near Las Mareas, and observed others from July 31 to September 24, 1921, near Central Aguirre. According to Reinhardt (1861), it has been taken on four occasions in Greenland (Godthaab, Julianehaab, Fiskenaesset, and Jacobshavn). A specimen was recorded in 1854 by Kjärbölling from Iceland and one was taken near Seville, Spain, May 3, 1872.

Egg dates.—Alaska and Mackenzie: 11 records, May 31 to July 10; 6 records, June 14 to July 1.