The story of the Eskimo curlew is just one more pitiful tale of the slaughter of the innocents. It is a sad fact that the countless swarms of this fine bird and the passenger pigeon, which once swept across our land on migrations, are gone forever, sacrificed to the insatiable greed of man. “The Eskimo Curlew and its Disappearance,” by Prof. Myron H. Swenk (1915), tells the story; it is well worth reading, but space will permit only a few quotations from it. Edward H. Forbush (1912 and 1925) also gives a very good account of the tragedy. In some of the following paragraphs the reader will find many references to its former abundance and the extent of the slaughter which exterminated it. So we shall consider here only the period of its rapid decline and some of the causes which produced it.

Professor Swenk (1915) says of its disappearance in the West:

In Texas the Eskimo curlew came in immense flocks on the prairies from 1856 to 1875, after which year the large flocks disappeared. Small flocks were seen in 1886 and 1890. The last records of the species for Texas were 1902 and 1905, one and three individuals, respectively. The species were first definitely recorded for Kansas from Russell County in 1874. In that State these curlews were abundant as late as 1878, but in 1879 their numbers were much reduced and the birds decreased rapidly. There were still a few in the Kansas markets in the early nineties. The last record is for 1902. Eastwardly in the interior the birds were always uncommon and disappeared early. The last Michigan record is in 1883. The last Ohio record is in 1878. The last Wisconsin records are April 27, 1899, and September 10, 1912, the latter specimen a male taken at Fox Lake, Dodge County, Wis. The last Indiana record is, with some doubt, April 19, 1890.

The last records of collected birds for Nebraska were made in the spring of 1911 and of 1915. On March 22, 1911, while Mr. Fred Geiger was shooting ducks near Waco, York County, two of these birds came flying by within gun range, and both were shot by him. The birds were identified by an old-time hunter, and were then brought to Lincoln, and mounted by Mr. August Eiche, in whose collection they are at present. Although no Eskimo curlews were noted in 1914, a single bird was killed about 10 miles due south of Norfolk, Nebr., on the morning of April 17, 1915. The bird was alone when taken. It came into the possession of Mr. Hoagland, who had it mounted by Allabaugh, a taxidermist of Omaha, in whose shop I saw it in May.

But this was not the last word from Nebraska, for 11 years later Professor Swenk (1926) published the following encouraging note of a sight record:

In further substantiation of the undoubtable fact that the Eskimo curlew is not yet extinct, I am now able to cite a positive instance of its occurrence in Nebraska during the present spring. On the morning of April 8, 1926, Mr. A. M. Brooking, of Hastings, an ornithologist and taxidermist who is very familiar with this species through having spent much effort in assembling several specimens of it for his extensive collection, while driving from the village of Inland to Hastings along what is known as the “north road,” saw a flock of eight birds alight in a newly plowed field about 4 miles east of Hastings. He drove his car up close to the birds, and when within 40 yards of them was able to his astonishment to positively identify them as unquestionably Eskimo curlews. Mr. Brooking knows the species so well, and saw the birds so clearly, that in my opinion this sight record can be accepted without hesitation.

On the Labrador coast Eskimo curlews diminished rapidly in numbers between 1870 and 1880. Hon. F. C. Berteau, a government official in Labrador, in some notes published by W. J. Carroll (1910) says:

Up to 1889 dough-birds or Eskimo curlew were very numerous in Labrador from late in August to the end of September. They frequented the southern part of the coast only, never appearing north of Indian Harbor at the northern entrance to Hamilton Inlet. During the first 4 or 5 of the 10 years during which I was collector of customs on Labrador, they were very numerous, indeed, flying from the hills to the shore and vice versa in flocks numbering from fifty to two or three hundred. During the last years of my collectorship they gradually diminished in numbers, until in 1890 or thereabouts they entirely disappeared, and save for a few seen on one or two occasions have never returned to the coast.

The Hudson’s Bay Co. people at Cartwright annually put up large numbers of hermetically sealed tins for the use of the company’s officials in London and Montreal. I have seen as many as 2,000 birds hung up in their store as the result of one day’s shooting by some 25 or 30 guns. A fairly accurate idea of the plentifulness of these birds will be obtained from an account of my own experience. During the season I used to leave the cruiser at 6 a. m. and return at 9 for breakfast. I do not remember ever getting less than 30 to 40 brace during the two hours or so that I was shooting.

Dr. Henry B. Bigelow (1902), who visited the northeast coast of Labrador in 1900, heard of only about a dozen which were seen on the coast that fall, of which he saw five. Dr. Charles W. Townsend (1913) reported that seven were “shot and one other seen on the beach at West Bay, north of Cartwright, in August and September, 1912. The skins of five were saved, and sent to Cambridge, where they were seen and identified by Mr. William Brewster.”

Excessive shooting of this curlew on its migrations and in its winter home in South America was doubtless one of the chief causes of its destruction. Ernest Gibson (1920) saw “some 20 or 30 * * * in the vicinity of Linconia,” near Buenos Aires, on February 13, 1899; and a small flock was reported in the same locality on April 8, 1901. He evidently has seen none since then. Mr. Forbush (1925) has recently given us the latest news from Argentina in a letter from Dr. Roberto Dabbene, in which he writes that five or six were seen in the Province of Buenos Aires on February 7, 1924; one of these was captured and another solitary individual was taken at the same place on January 11, 1925; both of these specimens are in the Museo National de Historia Natural, at Buenos Aires. These and the other recent records may indicate that there are a few Eskimo curlews still living; but the species is reduced to such a low ebb that it is doomed to speedy extinction, if not already gone.

One need not look far to find the cause which led to its destruction. On its breeding grounds in the far north it was undisturbed by man. And I can not believe that it was overtaken by any great catastrophe at sea which could annihilate it; it was strong of wing and could escape from or avoid severe storms; it could, like all shore birds, swim if necessary; and its migration period was so extended that no one storm could wipe it out. Several other species of shore birds make similar, long ocean flights without apparent disaster. There is no evidence of disease or failure of food supply. No, there was only one cause, slaughter by human beings, slaughter in Labrador and New England in summer and fall, slaughter in South America in winter and slaughter, worst of all, from Texas to Canada in the spring. The gentle birds ran the gauntlet all along the line and no one lifted a finger to protect them until it was too late. They were so gentle, so confiding, so full of sympathy for their fallen companions, that in closely packed ranks they fell, easy victims of the carnage.

Spring.—It was as a migrant only that we knew the Eskimo curlew. As to how it reached the United States from southern South America we know very little; but it probably followed the same route taken by its companion the golden plover. It arrived in Texas early in March and migrated northward through the prairie regions, mainly west of the Mississippi River, through central Canada and the Mackenzie region to the barren grounds on the Arctic coast. It was rare in spring east of this narrow belt, and practically unknown west of it. The flight through the United States was mainly accomplished during April and through Canada in May, arriving on its breeding grounds before the end of May.

Professor Swenk (1915) writes:

As to the abundance of these birds in Nebraska during the early years of its statehood the observations of Prof. Lawrence Bruner, who distinctly remembers the flights which occurred in the vicinity of Omaha during the years 1866–1868, when he was a boy 10 or 12 years old, are indicative. The birds would arrive about the time the later willows began to bloom (latter April), being present in force for a week or 10 days only, for by the time all of the wild plum blossoms had fallen (middle May) the birds were gone. Usually the heaviest flights occurred coincident with the beginning of corn-planting time, and enormous flocks of these birds would settle on the newly plowed fields and on the dry burnt-off prairies, where they searched industriously for insects. These flocks reminded the settlers of the flights of passenger pigeons and the curlews were given the name of “prairie pigeons.” They contained thousands of individuals and would often form dense masses of birds extending for a quarter to a half mile in length and a hundred yards or more in width. When the flock would alight the birds would cover 40 or 50 acres of ground.

Dr. E. W. Nelson (1887) called this “the most abundant curlew in northern Alaska, especially along the coasts of Bering Sea and Kotzebue Sound.” At Saint Michael a number were seen passing north on May 12, 1878. He says that they were “always more numerous than hudsonicus, and sometimes flocks of 150 or more” were seen. But Dr. Joseph Grinnell (1900) looked for it in vain about Kotzebue Sound.

Nesting.—For all that we know about the nesting habits of the Eskimo curlew, we are indebted to Roderick MacFarlane, who found this species breeding abundantly on the barren grounds east of Fort Anderson and up to the Arctic coast. He collected some 30 sets of eggs there between 1862 and 1866. He says in his notes that “this curlew never, in this quarter at least, breeds in wooded tracts, the barren grounds proper being the real habitat of the species during the season of nidification.” It is “very difficult to find the nests” as the birds “get off long before our approach, while the eggs nearly resemble the grass in color.” Some birds were seen to leave the nests. The nests are described as mere hollows in the ground, “lined with a few decayed leaves” and sometimes having “a thin sprinkling of hay.” The birds “generally ascend in the air in a straight line after getting off the nest.”

Eggs.—The normal set was evidently four eggs, but MacFarlane sent home several sets of three. The eggs are rather pointed ovate in shape and have very little gloss. Many eggs closely resemble certain types of Franklin gull’s eggs. The ground colors vary from browns to olives, the latter predominating. The olive colors run from “buffy olive” or “citrine drab” to “olive buff,” and the brown colors from “light brownish olive” to “buckthorn brown.” Some eggs are boldly marked with heavy blotches, which are sometimes confluent about the larger end; more often they are irregularly spotted and blotched; and some eggs are sparingly marked. The markings are in dark browns, “bister,” “bone brown,” “buffy brown,” and blackish brown, with underlying spots and blotches of various shades of “brownish drab.” The measurements of 36 eggs average 51.3 by 35.5 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 54.5 by 36, 52 by 39.5, 47.5 by 36, and 51 by 33 millimeters.

Plumages.—There are not enough specimens of Eskimo curlews, collected during the proper seasons, to work out the molts and plumages satisfactorily. There are no specimens of downy young or very young juvenals available. Young birds in juvenal plumage, as seen on migration, are much like adults, but the feathers of the mantle, scapulars, tertials, and wing coverts are more broadly edged, but less conspicuously notched, with “pinkish buff”; and the under parts are less extensively covered with the dusky markings.

The postnuptial molt of adults is mainly accomplished after they have left us in the fall, beginning in September; the wings are probably molted after the birds have reached their winter home. There is a prenuptial molt of the body plumage, visible during the spring migration, the new feathers, being more pinkish buff, especially on the under parts.

Food.—Professor Swenk (1915) says of its food habits in the west:

The Eskimo curlew was a bird of such food habits that it is a distinct loss to our agriculture that it should have disappeared. During the invasion of the Rocky Mountain grasshopper (Melanoplus spretus) it did splendid work in the destruction of grasshoppers and their eggs. Mr. Wheeler states that in the latter seventies these birds would congregate on pieces of land which had not been plowed and where the grasshopper eggs were laid, reach down into the soil with their long bills, and drag out the egg capsules, which they would then devour with their contents of eggs or young hoppers until the land had been cleared of the pests. A specimen examined by Aughey in 1874 had 31 grasshoppers in its stomach, together with a large number of small berries of some kind. The bird in its migrations often alighted on plowed ground to feed on the white grubs and cutworms turned up by the plow, or in meadow lands, probably feeding on ants in the latter situation. Richardson records finding them feeding on large ants at Fort Franklin in late May, 1849. The curlews were rarely seen near water, but were upland birds almost exclusively during the spring migration over the Great Plains region.

Doctor Coues (1874) describes its food on the Labrador coast, as follows:

Their food consists almost entirely of the crowberry (Empetrum nigrum), which grows on all the hillsides in astonishing profusion. It is also called the “bearberry” and “curlew berry.” It is a small berry, of a deep purple color, almost black, growing upon a procumbent, running kind of heath, the foliage of which has a peculiar moss-like appearance. This is their principal and favorite food and the whole intestine, the vent, the legs, the bill, throat, and even the plumage, are more or less stained with the deep purple juice. They are also very fond of a species of small snail that adheres to the rock in immense quantities, to procure which they frequent the land-washes at low tide. Food being so abundant, and so easily obtained, they become excessively fat. In this condition they are most delicious eating, being tender, juicy, and finely flavored; but, as might be expected, they prove a very difficult job for the taxidermist.

Behavior.—Lucien M. Turner gives, in his Ungava notes, a vivid description of a large flock of Eskimo curlews, which I quote, as follows:

I saw none until the morning of the 4th of September, 1884, as we were passing out from the mouth of the Koksoak River. Here an immense flock of several hundred individuals were making their way to the south. They flew in that peculiar manner which distinguishes the curlews from all other birds in flight, a sort of wedge shape, the sides of which were constantly swaying back and forth like a cloud of smoke wafted by the lightest zephyr. The aerial evolutions of the curlews when migrating are, perhaps, one of the most wonderful in the flight of birds. Long, dangling lines, either perpendicular or horizontal, the lower parts of which whirl, rise, or twist spirally, while the apex of the flock is seemingly at rest. At other times the leader plunges downward successively followed by the remainder in most graceful undulations, becoming a dense mass then separating into a thin sheet spread wide; again reforming into such a variety of positions that no description would suffice.

Mr. Mackay (1892c) says:

Of those I have observed in New England during a series of years I may say that most of their habits closely resemble those of the golden plover. In migration they fly in much the same manner, with extended and broadside and triangular lines and clusters similar to those of ducks and geese at such times. They usually fly low after landing, sweeping slowly over the ground, apparently looking it over, generally standing motionless for quite a little while after alighting, which, owing to their general color approximating so closely to the withered grass, renders it difficult at times to perceive them. I have had a flock of 50 or 60 alight within 30 yards of me, and have been unable to make out more than two or three birds. If disturbed they will frequently alight again at no great distance, if not previously harassed, and under the same conditions they can be approached at all times, for they are either very tame or very shy. They seek out and are found in the same localities selected by the golden plover with which they generally associate if any are in the vicinity, there always being a strong friendship between them. They are not so active as the plover; on the ground they appear less inclined to move about, especially after landing and during rainy weather when I have at times noticed them standing on the ground quite close together, every bird headed to the wind, with heads and necks drawn down and resting on their backs, with the rain running off their tails. At such times they could be approached on foot to within half a gunshot, showing little fear.

Doctor Coues (1874) writes:

The curlews associate in flocks of every size, from three to as many thousand, but they generally fly in so loose and straggling a manner that it is rare to kill more than half a dozen at a shot. When they wheel, however, in any of their many beautiful evolutions, they close together in a more compact body, and offer a more favorable opportunity to the gunner. Their flight is firm, direct, very swift, when necessary much protracted, and is performed with regular, rapid beats. They never sail, except when about to alight, when the wings are much incurved downward, in the manner of most waders. As their feet touch the ground, their long, pointed wings are raised over the back, until the tips almost touch, and then deliberately folded, much in the manner of the solitary sandpiper (Rhyacophilus solitarius).

Voice.—Professor Swenk (1915) describes the notes as follows:

The Eskimo curlew had several notes. During flight they uttered a fluttering tr-tr-tr note, which was given by many individuals at once, and described by Coues as a “low conversational chatter” and by Mackay as “a soft, melodious whistle, ‘bee, bee.’” Mr. W. A. Elwood describes this note as “a short, low whistle” continually repeated by many of the birds simultaneously while in flight. Mr. A. J. Leach recalls the notes as resembling quite closely the note of the bluebird when in flight, only perhaps shorter and more of a twittering whistle, and, as it was given by a large number, perhaps all, of the flock as they took wing and while flying, it was difficult to catch the individual note. This note was constantly uttered while the birds were flying and was often audible before the birds could be seen. Before alighting, as they descended and sailed, they gave a soft whistle, somewhat like the note of the upland plover, according to Professor Bruner, while as they walked over the ground when feeding they uttered a chirruping whistle, as if calling to each other.

Fall.—The adult birds must have started off their breeding grounds early in July for the first arrivals reached the coast of Labrador by the end of that month. Their course at first was east-southeast, or perhaps nearly due east, across Hudson Bay to the Labrador Peninsula, where they lingered for a week or two to feast and fatten on the abundant harvest of berries. Turner saw them as far north as the mouth of the Koksoak River, and says in his notes:

From the 10th to the 20th of August immense flocks of these birds appear on the level tracts from Davis’ Inlet to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, each day adding to their number until the ground seems alive with them. They feed on the ripening berries of Empetrum and Vaccinium, becoming wonderfully fat in a few days. By the 8th of September it is asserted that none remain.

Audubon (1840) writes:

On the 29th of July, 1833, during a thick fog, the Esquimaux curlews made their first appearance in Labrador, near the harbor of Bras d’Or. They evidently came from the north, and arrived in such dense flocks as to remind me of the passenger pigeons. The weather was extremely cold as well as foggy. For more than a week we had been looking for them, as was every fisherman in the harbor, these birds being considered there, as indeed they are, great delicacies. The birds at length came, flock after flock, passed close round our vessel, and directed their course toward the sterile mountainous tracts in the neighborhood; and as soon as the sun’s rays had dispersed the fogs that hung over the land, our whole party went off in search of them.

I was not long in discovering that their stay on this coast was occasioned solely by the density of the mists and the heavy gales that already gave intimation of the approaching close of the summer; for whenever the weather cleared up a little, thousands of them set off and steered in a straight course across the broad Gulf of St. Lawrence. On the contrary, when the wind was high, and the fogs thick, they flew swiftly and low over the rocky surface of the country, as if bewildered. Wherever there was a spot that seemed likely to afford a supply of food, there the curlews abounded, and were easily approached. By the 12th of August, however, they had all left the country.

The eastward flight reached as far as Newfoundland, where they were fairly numerous along the eastern and southeastern shores. There was also a migration, probably down the west coast of Hudson Bay, which reached the Atlantic coast through Ontario and the Great Lakes region. But the main flight was through Labrador, across the Gulf of St. Lawrence to Nova Scotia and then due south across the ocean to the Lesser Antilles and South America; their course in South America is not well known, but it was probably across eastern Brazil, to Uruguay, Argentina, and Patagonia, where they arrived in September.

In fair weather the 2,000-mile trip across the ocean was probably made in one continuous flight, though I believe that these birds were able to alight on and rise from the water if necessary. But if bad weather, severe southeasterly storms, thick fogs, or heavy rains occurred during their passage, they were forced to land, sometimes in enormous numbers on the coast of New England, less often on the shores farther south, or on the Bermudas; if severe westerly gales occurred they were sometimes driven far out to sea or even across the Atlantic to the British Isles. Our flights in Massachusetts could be looked for during the latter half of August and through September. On Cape Cod they used to frequent much the same localities as the golden plover, old fields and pastures, often several miles from the shore, and the drier portions of the salt marshes, where they found an abundance of grasshoppers, crickets, and other insects; on Monomoy they were often found on the low sand hills which were largely covered with gray mosses or lichens. Mr. Mackay (1892c) writes:

Those which do visit us almost invariably land with their boon companions, the American golden plover, of whose flocks I have frequently noticed they were the leaders, and I can scarcely call to mind, as I write, an instance where any number of Eskimo curlew have landed without there being more or less golden plover present at the same time. Those birds which may come can not, if they would, remain any longer than is absolutely necessary, for they are so harassed immediately after landing that the moment there occurs a change in the weather favorable for migration they at once depart. They appear to leave the coast at Long Island, N. Y., and strike farther out to sea, and then are not seen on the Atlantic coast for another year.

Game.—The gunner’s name for the Eskimo curlew was “dough-bird,” not “doe-bird,” for it was so fat when it reached us in the fall that its breast would often burst open when it fell to the ground, and the thick layer of fat was so soft that it felt like a ball of dough. It is no wonder that it was so popular as a game bird, for it must have made a delicious morsel for the table. It was so tame and unsuspicious and it flew in such dense flocks that it was easily killed in large numbers. On the Labrador coasts and in Newfoundland the inhabitants killed all they could and preserved them for winter use, according to Mr. Berteau (Carroll, 1910), “by parboiling them and packing them in tins and jars and covering them with melted butter or lard.” Coues (1874) tells of shooting them in Labrador, as follows:

Although the curlews were in such vast numbers, I did not find them so tame as might be expected and as I had been led to suppose by previous representations. I was never able to walk openly within shooting distance of a flock, though I was told it was often done. The most successful method of obtaining them is to take such a position as they will probably fly over in passing from one feeding ground to another. They may then be shot with ease, as they rarely fly high at such times. The pertinacity with which they cling to certain feeding grounds, even when much molested, I saw strikingly illustrated on one occasion. The tide was rising and about to flood a muddy flat, of perhaps an acre in extent, where their favorite snails were in great quantities. Although six or eight gunners were stationed upon the spot, and kept up a continual round of firing upon the poor birds, they continued to fly distractedly about over our heads, notwithstanding the numbers that every moment fell. They seemed in terror lest they should lose their accustomed fare of snails that day. On another occasion, when the birds had been so harassed for several hours as to deprive them of all opportunity of feeding, great numbers of them retired to a very small island, or rather a large pile of rocks, a few hundred yards from the shore, covered with seaweed and, of course, with snails. Flock after flock alighted on it, till it was completely covered with the birds, which there, in perfect safety, obtained their morning meal.

I can remember hearing my father tell of the great shooting they used to have on “the plains” at Cohasset when I was a small boy, about 1870. As he has now gone to the happy hunting grounds I can not give the exact figures, but he saw a wagon loaded full of “dough birds” shot on the plains in one day.

The greatest killings were made on the western plains during the spring migration, which Professor Swenk (1915) describes as follows:

During such flights the slaughter of these poor birds was appalling and almost unbelievable. Hunters would drive out from Omaha and shoot the birds without mercy until they had literally slaughtered a wagonload of them, the wagons being actually filled, and often with the sideboards on at that. Sometimes when the flight was unusually heavy and the hunters were well supplied with ammunition their wagons were too quickly and easily filled, so whole loads of the birds would be dumped on the prairie, their bodies forming piles as large as a couple of tons of coal, where they would be allowed to rot while the hunters proceeded to refill their wagons with fresh victims, and thus further gratify their lust of killing. The compact flocks and tameness of the birds made this slaughter possible, and at each shot usually dozens of the birds would fall. In one specific instance a single shot from an old muzzle-loading shotgun into a flock of these curlews as they veered by the hunter brought down 28 birds at once, while for the next half mile every now and then a fatally wounded bird would drop to the ground dead. So dense were the flocks when the birds were turning in their flight that one could scarcely throw a brick or missile into it without striking a bird.

In hunting these curlew the field glass was used by the hunters to follow their flights. The fields where they were prone to gather were patroled many times during the day and carefully scanned with the glass to discover the flocks on the ground. When the birds came in they would be up quite high, perhaps from 200 or 300 yards to a quarter of a mile, and in preparing to alight they would turn and wheel, towering in the air while they whistled softly, would hover a while, and then all drop and come down, flying along over the ground for a short distance before alighting. The birds would always alight all at once and very close together, and if the day were warm they would sit down very close together on the ground, forming bunches, when they could be readily discovered with the field glass and approached close enough to get a shot.

There was no difficulty in getting quite close to the sitting birds, perhaps within 25 or 35 yards, and when at about this distance the hunters would wait for them to arise on their feet, which was the signal for the first volley of shots. The startled birds would rise and circle about the field a few times, affording ample opportunity for further murderous discharge of the guns, and sometimes would realight on the same field, when the attack would be repeated. Mr. Wheeler has killed as many as 37 birds with a pump gun at one rise. They weighed just about 1 pound each when they were fat. Sometimes the bunch would be seen with the glass alighting in a field 2 or 3 miles away, when the hunters would at once drive to that field with a horse and buggy as rapidly as they could, relocate the birds, get out, and resume the fusillade and slaughter. On rainy days the birds would fly restlessly from one field to another, moving about in this way most of the day and seeming unusually plentiful because of being so much in the air.

Winter.—There is little known about the winter habits of the Eskimo curlew except that it formerly associated with the golden plover, the upland plover, and the buff-breasted sandpiper on the pampas of Argentina and Patagonia, where it is now but a memory of the past.

DISTRIBUTION

Range.—North and South America, accidental in eastern Asia and Great Britain.

The Eskimo curlew is now nearly or quite extinct. Although formerly abundant, its occurrence in both North and South America has been so frequently confused with Numenius hudsonicus, that it is extremely difficult to establish its migration range. Like the golden plover, however, this species followed an elliptical route, usually passing south in the fall off the coast of the United States, the point of departure from the mainland being the coast of Labrador, Nova Scotia, or (more rarely) Long Island, New York. In spring the return trip was made up the Mississippi Valley and the prairie States at which season it was practically unknown on the Atlantic coast.

Breeding range.—The only known nests and eggs of the Eskimo curlew have been obtained in northwestern Canada, Fort Anderson, Rendezvous Lake, Franklin Bay, and Point Lake.

Winter range.—The northern limits of the winter range are not known, but probably extended rarely to Brazil (Ypanema). South to Uruguay (Montevideo); Argentina (Bahia Blanca, Buenos Aires, Concepcion, and the Chupat Valley); and Chile (Island of Chiloe, and Paposo). It also has been detected on the Falkland Islands (Abbott, 1861).

Spring migration.—Early dates of spring arrival in North America are: Texas, Gainesville, March 7, and Boerne, March 9; Arkansas, Fayetteville, March 31; Missouri, St. Louis, April 10, and Vernon County, April 16; Kansas, Emporia, April 13; Nebraska, Alda, April 2; Iowa, Burlington, April 5, and Grinnell, April 10; South Dakota, Brown County, April 16, and Mackenzie, Fort Resolution, May 26, and Fort Anderson, May 27.

A specimen of this species was taken at San Geronimo, Guatemala, in April; and one at Lake Palomas, Chihuahua, April 8, 1892. A specimen was taken at Chalmers, Ind., on April 19, 1890. In Massachusetts one was obtained at Cape Cod in May, 1873, and about 50 were reported near the mouth of the Rowley River, May 17, 1916. Spring arrivals also have been noted in Alaska, St. Michael, May 12, 1878, and Cape Lisbourne, May 25, 1886.

Late dates of spring departure are: Argentina, Concepcion, March 1; Texas, Long Point, April 23, and Fort Stockton, May 4; Missouri, Jasper County, May 1; Kansas, Lawrence, May 6; and South Dakota, Vermilion, May 3, and Harrison, May 10.

Fall migration.—Early dates of fall arrival are: Quebec, Bras d’Or, July 29, Caribou Island, August 12, and Indian Tickle, August 16; Massachusetts, Nantucket, August 18, and Edgartown, August 21; West Indies, Barbados, August 27, Carriacou, September 5, and Grenada, September 22; Brazil, Amazon River, September 4; and Argentina, Concepcion, September 9.

Late dates of fall departure are: Mackenzie, Fort Anderson, August 2; Quebec, Koksoak River, September 4, Montreal, September 7, and Magdalen Islands, September 20; New Brunswick, Tabusintac, September 8; Prince Edward Island, New London, September 1; Maine, Hog Island, September 2, and Pine Point, September 23; Massachusetts, East Orleans, September 5, Monomoy Island, September 10, and Nantucket, October 2; Connecticut, Saybrook, October 13; New York, Lockport, October 2; and West Indies, Barbados, November 4.

There are a few records in the interior for this season, among which are: Ontario, Wolf Island, October 10, 1873; Pennsylvania, Erie, September 17, 1889; Ohio, Cincinnati, September, 1878; Michigan, Kalamazoo, October 28, 1879; Illinois, Summit, August 11, 1872; and Wisconsin, Fox Lake, September 10, 1912.

Casual records.—The Eskimo curlew has been taken or reported from several points outside its normal range, among which are: Porto Rico, once near San Juan (Gundlach); Bermuda, September, 1874; Greenland, two records (Reinhardt); Pribilof Islands, St. Paul Island, May 26, 1872; “Bering Sea,” May 22, 1874; Siberia, Cape Wankarem, August 6, 1881; five records for Great Britain (Slains, Aberdeenshire, September 28, 1878; near Stonehaven, Kincardineshire, September 6, 1855; one on the Alde, Aldeburgh, Suffolk; one at Woodbridge, Suffolk; and one purchased in the flesh at Dublin, October 21, 1870); and Iceland (Kjaerbölling). The supposed occurrence of this species in southern California (San Diego region and near Tia Juana) probably refers to N. hudsonicus, as does also the record for the Galapagos Islands (Charles Island) and South Carolina (Charleston).

Egg dates.—Mackenzie: 28 records, June 8 to July 12; 14 records, June 18 to 25.