the midlands and southeast; also in the Orkneys and Shetlands; but not
in the Faroes. On the Continent, France (only in Bretagne), Belgium,
Holland, Germany, Denmark (Jutland), Switzerland, Austria, Carinthia,
Galicia, Rumania (Dobrogea), Poland, the Baltic Republics, Sweden and
Norway, Russia, and Finland south to the Perm Government. In Asia it is
replaced by an eastern race (_N. arquata lineatus_), which ranges east
to Japan.
_Winter range._--Many winter in the British Isles, southern Europe
(the Mediterranean region), and a great part of Africa. Also in small
numbers to the Persian Gulf, but here it meets the eastern form.
_Spring migration._--At the Straits of Gibraltar the passage takes
place in March, but Irby saw a few late in April, while along
the Portuguese coast they pass from March to May. In the eastern
Mediterranean some leave Cyprus by the end of February, but stragglers
have been seen on March 30 and April 5 and others have been seen on
Crete at the end of April. In Iraq large flocks passed Feluja between
mid April and May 25, flying north in the evening.
_Fall migration._--Although long after the normal southward migration
the advent of hard weather will bring big flocks past Heligoland flying
west as late as November 19 to 20. The young birds begin to arrive
there as early as mid July from Scandinavia, and on the Portuguese
coast the passage lasts from late July to November and at Tangier from
September through October. At the Ionian Isles and on Cyprus they
arrive at the beginning of September, and the passage through Greece
lasts throughout September.
_Casual records._--The records for Greenland and eastern America have
been mentioned. In Iceland Faber recorded the first on September 6,
1819, and since then other occurrences have taken place without exact
date. To the Faroes it is only a straggler in the winter months. In the
Canaries it is an occasional visitor, chiefly to the eastern isles, and
has been seen there as late as June 14. It has also been recorded from
the Azores, Madeira (December 7, 1893, October 25, 1896, October 28,
1896, January 30, 1897, and great numbers on April 28, 1898) and the
Cape Verde Islands.
_Egg dates._--British Isles, April 17 to May 31 (42 dates), April 20
to May 10 (26 dates). Holland and Germany, earliest date April 6.
Scandinavia from about mid May onward, May 13 to 26 (6 dates).
NUMENIUS HUDSONICUS Latham
HUDSONIAN CURLEW
HABITS
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 (1892_b_) 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 (1892_b_) 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 (1892_b_) 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.