These birds rank amongst the rarest and most local of the British species of Limicolæ, so that little more than a passing allusion to them is necessary in a work of the present character. One of them, the Black-tailed Godwit,Limosa melanura, formerly known as the “Yarwhelp” or “Barker,” used to breed regularly in some of the eastern counties of England, but for nearly fifty years now it has not been known to do so. The reclamation of its fenland haunts, and the practice of netting it during the breeding season, have probably been the chief causes of its extirpation. A few birds still continue to appear on our coasts, especially on the vast mud-flats and salt-marshes of East Anglia, during their annual migrations, and a few remain to winter. Outside our limits it nests in Iceland and the Faröes, and in Scandinavia; but its chief breeding-area extends across Europe, from Holland to the south of Russia. In winter it draws southwards, visiting the Mediterranean basin and parts of Africa. The Black-tailed Godwit appears on the British coasts on passage, during April and May, the return journey beginning in August, and lasting for about a month. In its habits it is very like the Curlew, picking up its food on the muds and marshes, walking deliberately to and fro, wading through the shallows, and sometimes standing in the waterbreast-high to sleep. Whilst on actual migration it is a restless bird, continually shifting its ground, but later in the year it becomes more settled, and will visit certain spots to feed with great regularity. Its food, whilst on our coasts, consists of insects (especially beetles), worms, crustaceans, and molluscs. Its call-note is a loud and shrilltyii-it. This Godwit breeds in May, making a slight nest on the ground, concealed amongst herbage, in which it lays four pyriform eggs, olive-brown, spotted with darker brown and gray.
The second and smaller species, the Bar-tailed Godwit,Limora rufa, is certainly the best known, and by far the most abundant. So far as my observations extend, this Godwit occurs in greatest numbers on the mud-flats and salt-marshes of the Wash, where it is known in some places as the “Scamell.” There it is often taken in the flight-nets, and it is a well-known bird to the gunners of the coast. This Godwit passes along the British seaboard towards the end of April, and early in May, returning from the end of August up to the first week in November. According to Professor Newton the 12th of May is known as “Godwit day” on the south coast of England, because about that date large flocks of this bird arrive thereon, on their passage north. Whilst with us its habits are much the same as those of the preceding species. It is gregarious throughout the winter, and often associates with other shore-haunting birds. Boththese Godwits are readily distinguished from other Limicoline species on the British coasts by their long and recurved bills. They also present much diversity between summer and winter plumage. The most marked difference is seen in the colour of the underparts, which the present species changes from white in winter to rich chestnut in summer, whilst in the Black-tailed Godwit the chestnut characteristic of the breeding season is confined to the neck and breast. It is only in summer plumage that the tail of the Bar-tailed Godwit is barred; in winter it is uniform ash-brown. Upon its first arrival on our shores the Bar-tailed Godwit is often remarkably tame, admitting a close approach. It is very fond of frequenting the creeks and dykes that intersect the salt-marshes and muds, and during high water often goes inland a little way to wait for the ebb. The food of this Godwit consists of worms, crustaceans, molluscs, and similar marine creatures. The note resembles the syllableskyă-kyă-kyă, often very persistently repeated as the birds fly up and down the coast. In its quest for food it frequently wades, but never swims nor dives, unless wounded.
But little is known respecting the nidification of the Bar-tailed Godwit, and its eggs, very rare in collections, have hitherto only been obtained in Lapland. These so closely resemble those of the preceding species, that no known point of distinction can be given.
During the greater part of the year this species—theTotanus calidrisof modern naturalists—resides upon the coasts, retiring to more or less inland districts to breed. There are few prettier and more graceful birds along the shore than the Redshank, distinguished by its long orange-red legs, and white lower back, rump, and secondaries—the latter marbled with brown at the base. In the breeding season the grayish-brown upper plumage, and the white breast characteristic of winter, are mottled with rich dark brown. In autumn our resident Redshanks are largely increased in numbers by migratory individuals from more northerly latitudes; many of these pass on to winter quarters further south, but many others remain with us for the winter. Sociable at all times, and freely consorting with other Limicoline species on the coast, in winter, especially, the Redshank becomes very gregarious. Its favourite haunts are mud-flats and salt-marshes, and it is here that the largest flocks congregate, but many odd birds frequent coasts of a more rocky character. Redshanks are sprightly, restless birds, almost constantly in motion when on the feed, and scattering far and wide, running to and fro with dainty action, wading through the little pools, and even occasionally swimming the shallows between one mud-bank and another. They are ever alert,and take wing as soon as danger threatens, the scattered flock soon forming into a compact mass again. Between the tides Redshanks often collect on some mud-bank, where in a serried throng they keep up a confused babel of subdued cries, as if all were talking and none listening. Its flight is rapid and most unsteady looking—the black and white wings producing an idea of irregularity which is more imaginary than real. Upon the coast the Redshank feeds on sand-worms, crustaceans, molluscs, and such like marine creatures, but during summer at its breeding-grounds, worms, insects, ground-fruits and berries are among the substances sought. The call note of this wader is a loud shrilltyü-tyümost persistently repeated when the bird is excited or alarmed; whilst during the pairing season the love song or trill is happily described by Professor Newton—who has had exceptional opportunities for observing this species—as a constantly repeatedleero-leero-leero, accompanied with many gesticulations, as he hovers in attendance on the flight of his mate; “or with a slight change to a different key, engages with a rival; or again, half angrily and half piteously, complains of a human intruder on his chosen ground.”[3]
The Redshank breeds somewhat locally in the marshy districts of our islands, perhaps most commonly in the low-lying eastern counties ofEngland, and in Scotland. It is one of the earliest waders to quit the coast in spring, and to retire to its nesting places, which are fen and marsh lands, swampy moors, and the boggy shores of lochs and tarns. Numbers of nests may be found within a small area of suitable ground, and certain spots appear to be visited annually for breeding purposes, in some cases even after the district, by reclamation, has lost its original marshy character. The nest is slight, but usually well concealed, often beneath the shade of a tuft of grass or other herbage, or in a hassock of sedge or under a little bush or tall weed. It consists of a mere hollow scantily lined with a few bits of withered grass or leaves. The four eggs are very pyriform in shape, and vary from pale buff to dark buff, handsomely and boldly blotched and spotted with rich dark brown, paler brown and gray. When disturbed the old birds become very noisy and excited, careering wildly to and fro, and should the young be hatched they become even more demonstrative, and by various antics seek to decoy an intruder away. A return to the coast is made as soon as the young are sufficiently matured. Many eggs of this bird are gathered and sold as “Plover’s eggs.”
During the period of its spring and autumn migrations—especially the latter—this pretty little bird, theTringa arenariaof ornithologists whoignore the genusCalidris, named first by Cuvier in 1800, and formally founded eleven years later by Illiger, established as it is on such a trivial character (all things considered) as the absence of a minute and functionless hind toe—is one of the commonest and most widely distributed of Limicoline birds. Comparatively few individuals remain on our coast to winter, and these collect more especially on the southern beaches. In winter plumage—the dress in which it is most familiar to British observers—the Sanderling is a delicate silvery-gray above and pure white below; but in the breeding season, although the underparts remain unchanged in colour, the upper parts become mottled with chestnut and black. Comparatively few Sanderlings reach the British coasts before August, and the southward migration continues during September. By the middle of the latter month the bulk of the individuals has passed beyond our limits; by the end of October but few remain, although some of these prolong their stay over the winter. The return migration begins in April, and lasts over May into June. There can be little doubt that the Sanderling migrates by night. Few birds are more trustful and engaging than this pretty little Arctic stranger. It not only frequents the long reaches of sand, but mud-flats, estuaries, and the creeks and streams in salt-marshes; its favourite haunts, however, are the sands. During its sojourn on our coast it consorts in flocks of varying size;and very frequently a small party attach themselves to a larger gathering of Dunlins, or Ringed Plovers. Indeed for the society of the latter birds the Sanderling shows a strongly marked preference. We may safely say that, during the migration period, most large bunches of Ringed Plovers contain a varying number of Sanderlings. Its actions on the sand are very similar to those of the Ringed Plover, but it does not appear ever to run in such fits and starts, searching the ground more systematically, after the manner of a Stint or a Dunlin. During high water the Sanderling very often resorts to the higher shingle, and skulks amongst the pebbles, sometimes remaining unseen until nearly trodden upon, so closely does its white and gray dress resemble the stones among which it nestles. Upon the dark muds and the wet shining brown sands it is much more conspicuous; and there are few prettier sights along the shore than a scattered flock of Sanderlings, standing head towards the observer, looking like so many white balls of animated snow. It searches for its food by running to and fro about the beach, often on the very margin of the spent waves, sometimes wading through the shallows, or quickly dodging the foam-flecked in-driving surf. Its food consists of sand-worms, crustaceans, various insects and great quantities of small molluscs. In summer, however, it is almost exclusively insectivorous, but also feeds on the buds of the Arcticsaxifrages. The note of this bird during its sojourn on our coasts is a shrillwhit, but this is not very frequently or persistently uttered.
During winter the Sanderling is a great wanderer, visiting parts of Africa, Southern Asia, Australia, and South America, but in the breeding season its range seems confined to the Arctic regions. But very little is known of the nesting habits of the Sanderling, and few of its eggs are in collections. It is said to arrive at its Arctic haunts in May or early June, as soon as the water is free from ice, and the ground bare of snow. Its nesting haunts are the barren grounds and tundras near, and the beaches of, the Arctic Ocean. The nest is a mere hollow, scantily lined with dry grass and leaves, and the four eggs are buffish-olive in ground colour, mottled and spotted with pale olive-brown and gray.
This species, theTringa canutusof Linnæus, and most modern ornithologists, is another of the Arctic migrants that pass the British coasts regularly on their journeys, and linger here in much smaller numbers over the winter. Camden, in 1607, appears to have been the first author to connect the name of the Knot with King Canute, but much difference of opinion exists as to the reason thereof. Some authorities assert that it was in connection with the story of that king upon the seashore; others, and perhaps with greater reason, because ofthe Royal Dane’s great liking for its flesh. The bird continued to be so closely associated with the king by successive writers, that Linnæus followed them in applying the specific name ofcanutusto the Knot, which is still retained by the majority of naturalists.
The migrations of the Knot are very marked and regular. The bird begins to arrive on the British coasts early in August, and from then to the end of October a nearly constant stream pours upon them, reaching its greatest volume in September. By far the greater number pass on to still more southern haunts, but a sufficiently large portion remain to winter as to render the species one of the most familiar of Limicoline forms to habitues of the coast. The return migration begins on our coasts in April, and continues throughout May. The principal haunts of the Knot in the British Islands are situated on the eastern and south-eastern coasts. Mud-flats, salt-marshes, wide, expansive sands, and big estuaries, are the spots where Knots most do congregate, for these furnish it with a constant supply of food. Ten years ago, I remember, great numbers of Knots used to be caught in the flight-nets on the Wash, during October and November, but the numbers of late years have considerably decreased. The Knot is not only very gregarious, but social, and often mixes with companies of other waders. When feeding Knots keep close together, generallyall heading in the same direction, and moving about quickly. If the flock is a very large one some of the individuals are almost constantly in the air, flying over the heads of their companions, and alighting again, as if eager to get the first look over the ground. They are very wary when congregated in such large assemblies, easily flushed, and often performing various evolutions, both over the sands or the water, before alighting again. The Knot more often runs with a series of short, quick steps than walks, and it flies both rapidly and well. After feeding, the entire flock will often stand for a long time on a certain piece of the shore, sleeping and preening plumage, but even on these occasions they are somewhat restless, and it is rare to see all still at once. They feed both by night and by day. The call-note is seldom or never uttered, although when on migration the birds appear to be noisy enough, crying incessantly to each other as they fly along in the gloom.
But little is known of the nesting economy of the Knot. Its great breeding grounds—the nesting places of the vast flocks that pass southwards in autumn—still remain undiscovered. Where they are situated it is useless to speculate. Naturalists are ignorant of its eggs, which still remain unknown in collections, although the young in down have been obtained. The Knot breeds in the high Arctic regions, in the North Polar Basin, mostly, if not entirely above lat. 80°; and here it has been metwith during summer by various travellers. The Knot is another bird remarkable for the great seasonal changes which its plumage undergoes. In winter, the plumage is ash-gray above, white below; in summer, the feathers of the upper parts become black margined with reddish-brown and mixed with white, those of the lower parts rich bay or chestnut. It has been remarked that the birds that winter on our coasts do not assume such rich tints in summer as individuals that pass along our coasts from more southern latitudes. This is probably because the birds wintering with us are younger individuals, only the oldest penetrating to the remoter winter home. The Knot has a wide distribution during winter, including the Southern States, and Mexico, Africa, and it is said Australia, and New Zealand! It is possible that in the latter countries the Eastern Knot—theTringa crassirostrisof science—is confused with the present species.
This pretty little species, known to many as the “Pygmy Curlew,” and to modern naturalists by the scientific name ofTringa subarquata, is one of the rarest of the British Limicolæ. It very closely resembles the Knot in the colour of its plumage, and in the seasonal changes that plumage undergoes, but it is not much more than three-fourths the size, and has a curved Curlew-like bill. This little Sandpiper, like most of its order, is a migrant, breedingin some yet undiscovered part of the Arctic regions, retiring southwards to winter in Africa, various parts of southern Asia and in Australia. It is during these journeys between the Arctic regions and the tropics that it occurs on the British coasts, a few individuals even remaining upon them all the winter through. As might naturally be expected it is most frequently observed on the vast stretches of low coast on the eastern side of England; it is also a tolerably frequent visitor to the south coast, even as far westwards as Devon and Cornwall. A few Curlew Sandpipers arrive on our coasts in April, but the greater number pass along them in May, stragglers lingering until June. The return flight is noticed in August, and consists mostly of young birds, the older ones reaching us during September and October. The habits of this Sandpiper very closely resemble those of the Dunlin, in whose company the bird is very frequently found, and from which it may readily be distinguished, even at a distance, by its pure white upper tail-coverts. It prefers coasts of a muddy rather than a sandy character, haunting saltings, estuaries, and muds. Here, its actions are much the same as those of all these little sand birds; it feeds both by day and night; and often retires during high water to some wet land near the sea, to wait the ebb. The food of this species consists of crustaceans, worms, molluscs, and insects. Its note is described as being louder than that of the Dunlin.
Absolutely nothing is known of the nidification of the Curlew Sandpiper, and its egg has never yet been described. It is, to say the least, remarkable that some of the great breeding-places of these Arctic birds have not yet been discovered—a fact that seems to suggest a vast area of land somewhere in the vicinity of the Pole.
Owing to the great seasonal changes of plumage which this Sandpiper—theTringa alpinaof most naturalists—undergoes, considerable confusion has prevailed concerning it. Linnæus described birds of this species in summer plumage as distinct from individuals in winter plumage, naming themalpinaandcinclus; but Temminck (and before him B. Meyer) with greater discernment united both under the name ofT. variabilis. Birds in the two plumages have also received distinctive colloquial names; in summer dress, the bird is known as “Dunlin,” in winter dress as the “Purre.” Other local names of wide application to this species are “Ox-bird,” “Stint,” and “Plover’s Page,” the latter being derived from the habit of the Dunlin to accompany a Golden Plover, flying to and fro over the moors, where the two species chance to be nesting. Perhaps the Wryneck has in like manner, gained the name of “Cuckoo’s Mate” from its habit of flying in attendance with that bird; although some writers attribute the termto the fact of the two species appearing in our country about the same time.
The Dunlin is absolutely the commonest Limicoline bird of the shore, and certainly the most widely dispersed. It possesses the habit, in common with so many other species of this order, of retiring to moors to breed; but as soon as nesting duties are done it returns to the coast, and for the remainder of the year continues to reside upon it. The Dunlins that breed in our islands represent but a very small portion of the vast number that winter on the British coasts. The majority of these are from more northern haunts, winter migrants, that haste away again with the return of spring. During its residence on the coast the Dunlin is remarkably gregarious, assembling often in flocks of thousands, which, by preference seek such portions of the shore as are low-lying and muddy. Salt-marshes, slob-lands, estuaries and creeks, and vast expanses of mud—as the Wash for instance, are the favourite haunts of the Dunlin. These large flocks of Dunlins are much more difficult to approach than smaller gatherings or individual birds. Dunlins are active little birds, almost incessantly in motion, running daintily about the muds, by the margin of the waves, or wading through the shallow tide pools. During the course of feeding a large flock will become widely scattered, and it is remarkable how quickly the broken ranks reform. There are few sights sopretty along the salt-marshes and mud-flats than a large flock of Dunlins, in the act of performing those graceful aerial movements so characteristic of this little bird during its winter sojourn upon the coast. The whole flock, as with a single impulse, will spread out like a net, close up again, apparently vanish, appear black, or like a flash of silver, just as the birds turn and expose their dark or white plumage to the light. Sometimes the flock will head straight away down the coast, passing the observer with a rush and whirr of wings, and a chorus ofpurringcries; at other times a large flock will riseen massefrom the muds, pass out to sea a little way, turn, and go some distance along the shore, come back again, repeating the movement time after time, ever and anon appearing as though about to alight, dipping and rising with marvellous regularity. No doubt these movements will recall to the observer the gyrations of the autumn flocks of Starlings, for there is much in common between the two. During its sojourn upon the coast the Dunlin feeds upon crustaceans, sand-worms, molluscs, and other small marine organisms; but in summer insects, grubs, worms, and ground-fruits are eaten. The usual note of the Dunlin is harsh, and resembles the wordpurr—hence one of the bird’s trivial names; during the breeding season it is a long drawnpeezh. In the pairing season, when the male indulges in certain aerial gambols, he utters atrill, which has been likened by some observers to the continuous ringing of a small bell.
It is a rather remarkable fact that the Dunlin is the only species ofTringathat nests in the British Islands. It breeds sparingly and locally in Cornwall, Devon, and Somerset, perhaps in Wales, and thence northwards, more generally, over the remainder of England, and in Scotland up to the Shetlands. Dunlins begin to move from the coasts in March and April, and to resort to their breeding places, which are situated on the marshy moorlands and mountain swamps, often at no great distance from the sea, or at least from tidal waters. The nest is a mere depression, often in a tussock of grass or rushes, or beneath a small bush, or even in a patch of thrift on bare sandy soil, lined with a few scraps of withered vegetation, or enclosed with a few twigs or roots. The four pyriform eggs are pale olive or pale brown, blotched and spotted with reddish- and blackish-brown and gray. We remark the same extraordinary difference between summer and winter plumage, as we have already observed in the Knot and some others. In summer or breeding plumage, the Dunlin is rich reddish-brown above, striped with dark brown; lower breast or gorget, deep black; remainder of under parts white. In winter the upper parts are chiefly ash-gray, and the under parts white, except the gorget, which is now grayish-brown. Outside the British Islands the Dunlin has a very wide distribution, breedingnot only in the Arctic regions of both hemispheres, but in many temperate latitudes of the same; in winter it is dispersed over North Africa, Southern Asia, the Southern States of America, and the West Indies. At Heligoland, flocks of Dunlins invariably indicate bad weather.
This species, theTringa maritimaof Brunnich and most modern naturalists, but erroneously identified with theT. striataof Linnæus, by certain recent writers on ornithology, is a fairly common and widely distributed bird on the British coasts during autumn and winter. The fact that a few odd birds are sometimes met with on our shores during the summer, has led to the supposition—totally unsubstantiated as yet—that the Purple Sandpiper may breed here. During some years this species is much more abundant than others, a fact perhaps due to exceptionally favourable breeding seasons. The Purple Sandpiper, readily distinguished from all other British Limicolæ by its nearly black rump and upper tail coverts, the purple gloss of its upper plumage, and its yellow legs—makes its appearance with us early in September, and continues to arrive in increasing numbers during that month and October, and leaves us by the following May. This Sandpiper is most partial to a rocky coast, where the huge boulders shelve down into the water, and large masses of rock and shingle are exposedat low tide. It may, however, be frequently observed in the company of Knots, Dunlins, and Ringed Plovers, on the mud-flats and sandy reaches. It usually seeks for its food close to the water, running over the rocks as each great wave breaks and retires, even darting into the seething drifts of surf, or coursing along the very edge of the rollers, where each one threatens to annihilate it as it breaks upon the shore. Occasionally it may be seen to swim just outside the surf, and when flushed it sometimes even alights upon the sea. Its food consists of crustaceans, sand-worms, molluscs, and insects; and, during summer, of seeds as well. Although most of this food is obtained whilst the tide is driving in, the bird may be seen in quest of it at the ebb. It frequently retires inland a little way, or rests upon a rocky islet or point, between the ebb and the flow of the tide. Its flight is rapid and straightforward, and often accompanied by its shrill and quickly utteredtee-wit. The Purple Sandpiper, though social, is never seen on our coasts in very large flocks, and, perhaps, most frequently in pairs or alone. In Norway, however, Collett states that it assembles in countless flocks during the winter. It is certainly one of the least shy of the Limicolæ, and often permits of a close approach, especially when alone.
The best known breeding-place of the Purple Sandpiper, and one of its most southerly summer stations, is on the Faröes. Other breeding placesare in Iceland, in Norway, Spitzbergen, and Nova Zembla, and on various parts of the north Siberian coasts, and in Arctic America to Greenland.
It arrives at its nesting grounds in May or June. These are rarely situated far from the sea, although in the Faröes it retires to the fells, where it begins to nest even before the snow has all melted. The nest is but a shallow depression, scantily lined with scraps of withered vegetation, and is made either close to the beach on broken ground, covered with a sparse vegetation, or in some marshy spot on a hill in the vicinity of the ocean. The Purple Sandpiper may pair for life, as there is some evidence to show that it returns annually to certain spots, to breed. The four eggs are pale olive- or buffish-brown, beautifully blotched and spotted, mottled and streaked with blackish- and reddish-brown and gray. The sitting bird lingers long upon her nest, sometimes remaining till almost trodden upon before she starts up, and, by feigning lameness, seeks to draw the intruder away. So closely is the Purple Sandpiper attached to the coast, that even during the nesting season, when its duties call it more or less inland, it always visits the shore to feed. In summer plumage, the upper parts are marked with rich chestnut, and in winter dress, the underparts are more spotted.
There are certain other Limicoline birds found upon our coasts, more or less frequently, which at least deserve some passing notice; but as they arespecies that are merely fleeting visitors during their annual migrations, and never occur in sufficient number to form a dominant feature in the bird-life of the shore, they do not call for any lengthened description, or minute study, in a work which seeks only to sketch the more enduring avine characteristics of the British seaboard. We will deal with the commonest species first. During the period of its migrations, the Common Sandpiper, or Summer Snipe (Totanus hypoleucus) is a pretty frequent visitor to the coast, especially in the south-western parts of England; and there is strong reason to believe that a limited number may pass the winter thereon. Its habits on the shore are very similar to those of the other Limicoline species. It breeds commonly by the side of our inland waters, and is certainly, as its name implies, the most abundant and the most widely dispersed of the British waders. Another fairly regular and frequent visitor to the British littoral in spring and autumn is the Greenshank (Totanus glottis). It is most often met with on the low-lying eastern coasts; but it is said a few birds winter in Ireland. The Greenshank breeds very locally in Scotland, and is best known to us at its more or less inland nesting stations. It may be distinguished by its white lower back and central upper tail coverts, and nearly uniform gray secondaries. Of even rarer and more local appearance is the Wood Sandpiper (Totanus glareola), sometimes met with in smallparties on our eastern and southern coasts; whilst the Green Sandpiper (Totanus ochropus) is a less frequent visitor still. This species is remarkable for its peculiar mode of nesting, for instead of laying its eggs upon the ground—as is the almost universal custom of birds of this order—it places them in the deserted nests of other birds in trees. We must also not forget to give a passing reference to the singular-looking Ruff (Machetes pugnax). Drainage of the fens has long banished the Ruff from its ancestral haunts, where it was once so common that a regular trade was carried on in netting and fattening it for the table. The Ruff takes it name from the singular, yet remarkably beautiful, frill of elongated feathers that, during the love season, adorns the neck of the male bird. The extraordinary variation in the colour of this fleeting sexual ornament can only be described as marvellous, it being almost impossible to find two birds exactly alike. This sexual development of feather ornament seems closely associated with the polygamous habits of the Ruff; the cock bird takes no share in family duties, and during the pairing season wages endless battles with his rivals for the possession of the hens. Odd birds frequent our coasts during the migration periods, and less frequently during the winter. Two species of Stint—the most diminutive of the Sandpipers—also deserve a brief allusion. The first and most frequent visitor is the Little Stint (Tringa minuta),most numerous on its autumn passage south. It is chiefly seen on the eastern coast-line, but is a visitor to the Solway district. The Little Stint breeds in the Arctic regions of Europe and West Siberia, and is a late migrant in spring, seldom seen in any numbers on our coasts before May. It frequents, whilst with us, mud-flats, salt-marshes, and long reaches of sand, and often joins the Dunlins in quest of food. Its stay with us is brief, especially in spring, and even in autumn most have gone away before October. It may be distinguished by its small size (wing under 4 inches in length), tapering bill, and black legs and feet. The second species, Temminck’s Stint (Tringa temmincki), is a larger bird than the foregoing, and readily distinguished from all other Tringæ by its white outer tail feathers. It is much rarer in its appearance, too, and, as usual, most frequent on the low-lying eastern coast-line; even this district is beyond the more general limits of its migrations. It is also not so maritime in its haunts, and seems to migrate along more inland routes.
GUILLEMOT AND RAZORBILL. Chapter iii.GUILLEMOT AND RAZORBILL.Chapteriii.
GUILLEMOT AND RAZORBILL.Chapteriii.
Affinities and Characteristics—Changes of Plumage—Guillemot—Brunnich’s Guillemot—Black Guillemot—Razorbill—Little Auk—Puffin.
Affinities and Characteristics—Changes of Plumage—Guillemot—Brunnich’s Guillemot—Black Guillemot—Razorbill—Little Auk—Puffin.
Few birds are more thoroughly marine in their haunts and their habits than those which are included in the present chapter. They are inseparably associated with the sea; they form one of the most interesting features of marine life, whether in summer, when they crowd in countless hosts at their breeding stations upon the cliffs and islands, or in winter, when they spread themselves far and wide over the waste of waters. From whatever point of view we study them, they are intensely interesting birds.
The Auks, as they are collectively termed, form the small yet well-defined familyAlcidæ. Although the Auks are a specialised group, systematists pretty generally agree in associating them more or less closely with the Divers, the Grebes, the Gulls, and the Limicolæ. Auks areweb-footed birds, with no hind toe, with the legs placed far back, and the bill subject to great variation in size, and in some species presenting considerable change in appearance according to season. All the Auks have comparatively short and narrow wings; in the recently extinct Great Auk these were incapable of supporting the bird in the air; and the tail is remarkably short, in some species being scarcely perceptible under ordinary circumstances. The Auks are exclusively confined to the north temperate and polar regions of the Northern Hemisphere: and by far the greater number of species inhabit the Northern Pacific. They number some thirty species. The prevailing colours of the Auks are black and white; none of them are showy birds; but some species are remarkable for their eccentric nuptial plumes, and for the brilliancy of colour of the bill. The Auks are thoroughly aquatic, and not adapted in any way for a terrestrial existence. They swim well, dive with marvellous skill, and save during the incubation period, pass most of their time on the sea. None of the species are remarkable for any great migration flights; as a rule they wander little from their high northern homes. They are all gregarious birds, breeding in companies wherever possible. Some species undergo but little change in their appearance between summer or winter plumage; others are more remarkable in thisrespect. During the breeding period some species resort to lofty cliffs washed by the sea; others burrow into the ground. Many species make no nest whatever, but others form slight structures in which to deposit their eggs. The young of the Auks are hatched covered with down, assuming their first plumage in a few weeks. Adult Auks moult in September; the difference in the colour of the plumage peculiar to the pairing season, apparently being entirely due to a change in the hue quite irrespective of a moult. The complete change from white to brownish-black observed prior to the breeding season on the necks and heads of Guillemots and Razorbills is very curious and interesting. According to the observations of Herr Gätke, the shafts of the feathers are the first portions in which the black appears; yet almost at the same time this colour is seen in the form of minute specks on the lower third of the feathers, quickly spreading into crescentic markings, and ultimately covering the entire surface. Half a dozen species are British. Of these, four breed more or less abundantly in our area, and the other two are irregular winter visitors. The now extinct Great Auk—the largest known representative of the family—formerly bred in certain parts of the British Islands, but, alas, is now only known as a fast receding tradition. We will now proceed to a short study of these British Auks.
Of all the various sea birds that cluster on the cliffs of Albion this species, theUria troileof most modern ornithologists, is by far the commonest, and of the present family of birds the most widely distributed. During summer it may be met with in colonies of varying numbers, here and there on most of our rocky coasts, from the Scilly Islands to the Shetlands, from Flamborough Head in the east to the Blaskets in the west. Not, perhaps, so familiar to the sea-side wanderer as the Gull, whose ærial habits bring it more frequently into notice, the Guillemot, nevertheless, is a seldom absent feature of marine bird life. It is gregarious and social at all times, but joins into greatest companies during the season of reproduction. When the nesting season has passed the birds spread themselves more generally along the coast and out at sea, and it is at such times that they are most ubiquitous. Between October and March the Guillemot may often be met with swimming close in shore, in quiet bays, and especially in the neighbourhood of fishing villages. On these occasions it is not particularly shy, and will allow a sufficiently close scrutiny, but it is ever wary, diving at the least alarm, and appearing again well out of danger. The Guillemot swims well and buoyantly; it also dives with remarkable agility, and obtains most of its food whilst doing so. The Guillemots are rarely seenupon the land after the young have quitted their birthplaces; they spend their entire time upon the sea, seeking shelter during rough weather in bays or under the lee of headlands, but not unfrequently great numbers perish in a gale, their dead bodies strewing the coast where the tide has cast them ashore. Except during the breeding season the Guillemot flies very little, but during that period it often feeds far from its rocky haunts, and may then be seen, especially at eventide, flying in little bunches, or in compact flocks, swiftly and silently just above the waves, returning to them. The food of this bird is almost exclusively composed of fish, especially such small species as pilchards and sprats; it is also extremely partial to the fry of the herring and the pollack. Few birds are more expert at catching fish than the Guillemot; it dives after them, and chases them beneath the surface with marvellous speed and unerring certainty. In this chase of fish it sometimes comes to grief by getting entangled in the drift-nets. The Guillemot is a remarkably silent bird. I have repeatedly been amongst thousands of these birds, both at sea and on the rock stacks where they breed, and the only sound I have ever heard them utter is a low, grunting noise. My experience has been chiefly confined to the earlier part of the breeding season, and the autumn and winter months. It would appear, though, that when the young are partly grown the birds become more noisy, for Gätkedescribes their cries at the breeding-stations as a “confused noise of a thousand voices, the calls of the parent birds—arr-r-r-r,orr-r-r-r,err-r-r-r, and mingled with these the countless tiny voices of their young offspring on the face of the cliff—irr-r-r-idd,irr-r-r-idd—uttered in timid and anxious accents.” I should here remark that the Guillemot never flies over the land, never flies inland from the rocks, but always when disturbed unerringly makes for the sea, which is almost, if not quite, as much its element as the air.
The actions of the Guillemot are interesting enough upon the sea, few sights being prettier than a number of these birds busily engaged in capturing their finny food; but the most attractive scenes in the life of this bird are to be witnessed at its breeding places. Formerly these were much more numerous than is now the case, especially in England, but there, on the southern coast line notably so, many a large colony has disappeared for ever, and many another has been sadly reduced in numbers. The distribution of the Guillemot becomes much more local during summer, the birds crowding in vast numbers to certain time-honoured spots. Fortunately some of these still remain fairly accessible to the lover of birds. One of the most famous breeding stations is at the Farne Islands; another on the cliffs at Bempton; whilst less noted places are in the Isle of Wight, the Scilly Islands, and the coasts of Devon andCornwall. The great number of local names by which the Guillemot is known round our coasts speak to its former abundance; Lavy, Marrock, Murre, Diver, and Willock—the latter applicable to the young—may be mentioned as a few of the best known. The birds congregate at their old accustomed haunts in Spring, with remarkable regularity, often punctually arriving on the same day for years in succession. At Heligoland, and certainly other places, Guillemots return to their nesting places from time to time during the winter, appearing in the morning for a little while, just as Rooks are wont to do at the nest trees. The Guillemot rears its young on the face of the lofty ocean cliffs, or on the flat tops of rock stacks. Cliffs with plenty of ledges and hollows are preferred, and in such chosen spots the birds crowd so closely that, at some stations, the wonder is how each individual can possibly find room to incubate its egg, or even secure a standing place in the general throng. There can be little doubt that in such crowded spots as the “Pinnacles,” many of the eggs never reach maturity. The Guillemot makes no nest of any kind, but lays its single large pear-shaped egg on any suitable ledge, or in any available hollow where it can be tolerably safe from toppling over into the sea. There are few more stirring sights in the bird-world than a large colony of Guillemots. I still retain the vivid impressions made upon my mind by the vasthordes of these birds at St. Kilda, at the Farne Islands, and elsewhere. Even whilst I write, I can once more see the struggling, quarrelling, rowdy hosts of Guillemots that crowd the famous “Pinnacles”; still see them pouring off in endless streams, headlong into the water, as I prepared to scale their haunt. Once more memory recalls and paints in vivid scene the beetling St. Kildan cliffs, with their rows and rows of white-breasted Guillemots, sitting tier upon tier, upwards and upwards towards the dark blue sky; my tiny boat tossing like a cork on the wild Atlantic swell, and the countless swarms of Guillemots swimming in the sea around me, hastening to the cliffs or returning from them, beaten off by more fortunate possessors of a place.
The Guillemot lays a single egg, without making a nest of any kind for its reception. If this egg be taken, however, the bird will lay a second or a third, and advantage is taken of this fact by those persons that gather them for a livelihood. The egg of no other known bird varies to such an extraordinary extent as that of the Guillemot, whilst few, if any, are more beautiful. Greens, browns, yellows, pale blues, and white, form the principal ground colour; the markings, which take the form of spots, blotches, streaks, and zones, are composed of browns, grays, and pinks, of every possible tint. One variety is white, intricately laced, netted, and streaked with pink; another isa beautiful green, streaked in the same manner with yellow, light brown, or nearly black; others of various ground colours are zoned with blotches, or marked with fantastic-shaped spots and rings. Some eggs of the Guillemot closely resemble those of the Razorbill, but may be distinguished by the yellowish-white interior of the shell when held up to the light.
There has been much controversy as to the way in which the Guillemot chicks reach the water from their lofty birthplace. Some writers assert that the parent bird carries them down to the sea on its back; on the other hand, Gätke maintains that the chicks tumble off the ledges into the water, being enticed to do so by the old birds swimming on the sea beneath the cliffs. He writes: “in its distress, the little chick tries to get as near as possible to the mother waiting for it below, and keeps tripping about on the outermost ledge of rock, often of no more than a finger’s breath, until it ends by slipping off, and, turning two or three somersaults, lands with a faint splash on the surface of the water; both parents at once take charge of it between them, and swim off with it towards the open sea. This is the only way in which I have seen this change of habitat of the young birds accomplished, during some fifty summers.” As soon as the young are sufficiently matured, the sea in the vicinity of the breeding-stations is deserted, and the colonies disperse far and wide. From thistime forward, to the following breeding-season, the Guillemot’s movements are to a certain extent unknown. As Professor Newton justly asks,[4]What becomes of the millions of Guillemots and other Auks that breed in northern latitudes? The birds that are met with round the coasts of temperate Europe, and elsewhere, bear no proportion whatever to the mighty hosts whose position and movements remain unrevealed. At present the only feasible explanation seems to be that the birds, during the non-breeding-season, are scattered in quest of sustenance over many thousands of square miles of water; in summer only is their vast abundance palpable, when all are gathered into a comparatively small area.
In connection with the Guillemot mention should be made of the Ringed Guillemot, theUria ringviaof Latham. It only differs from the Common Guillemot in having a narrow white band round the eye, which is prolonged into a streak for some distance behind and below it. It may be seen breeding in company with the commoner form, and is not known to differ in its habits. Whether it be a distinct species—as Gätke states—or merely a variety of the Common Guillemot, as many naturalists believe, still remains to be decided.