few places where it breeds at all commonly. On migrations it is widely
distributed over nearly all of the Northern Hemisphere. It was never
as abundant in this country as the golden plover and apparently never
traveled in such immense flocks; hence it was never slaughtered in such
enormous numbers. Moreover, it is much wilder, more wary, and better
able to take care of itself; consequently it has held its own much
better and has proven more of a success in the struggle for existence.
Nevertheless, it has been considerably reduced in numbers during the
past 75 years. I am inclined to think that the reduction in numbers
is more apparent than real and that the birds have learned to avoid
certain localities, where they were once so abundant and where they
have been so persistently pursued by gunners. George H. Mackay (1892)
has shown a decided decrease on Nantucket, which he attributes to such
a cause. From my own 30 years’ experience on Cape Cod I know that
this has taken place there; I have noticed a gradual decrease in the
numbers of black-bellied plover that come to Chatham and Monomoy during
the fall flight, until now I often see no more than half a dozen in
a day, where formerly we used to see them in hundreds. On the spring
flight, however, they are often very abundant there, and apparently
have increased since spring shooting was stopped; formerly they were
much more abundant in the fall than in the spring, but the reverse
is now the case. This is a striking example of the bird’s sagacity.
Francis N. Balch told me that he saw at least 4,000 black-bellied
plover on Monomoy on one day during the height of the spring flight in
1927. This compares favorably with Nuttall’s much quoted statement that
flocks of more than 1,000 gathered near Boston about 100 years ago.
Some of the figures given below will show that there are still plenty
of black-bellied plover left in places where they are not too much
molested.
_Spring._--From the northern part of its winter range in the southern
States the black-bellied plover starts on its northward migration in
April and there is a general northward movement, entirely across the
continent, all through May; the last of the migrants do not leave the
northern States until the first week in June. Arthur T. Wayne (1910)
says that, in South Carolina, “when the wind is from the south and
the tide is low in the afternoon, these birds migrate in small flocks
in a northwesterly direction,” probably taking an overland route to
their breeding grounds. But there is also a heavy northward migration
along the Atlantic coast, at least as far as New Jersey, whence I
believe the main flight swings inland, though there is a well-marked
spring migration in Massachusetts, mainly during the last half of
May, which seems to have increased in recent years. During the latter
part of May, 1927, I was privileged to see, through the kindness of
Dr. Harry C. Oberholser, the greatest flight of black-bellied plover,
dowitchers, and turnstones that I have ever seen. On the coast of New
Jersey, in the vicinity of Tuckerton Bay and Little Egg Harbor, we
made actual counts, or careful estimates, of all birds seen and the
totals were far ahead of any he had recorded there in recent years.
Seven day’s records show a total of over 20,000 black-bellied plover;
on our two best days, May 27 and 28, we recorded 6,200 and 5,600; and
on our poorest day, May 25, we counted only 238, showing that they
came in waves. The black-bellied plover were often associated in the
large flocks with ruddy turnstones; we saw one immense flock which we
estimated to contain 3,500 birds of these two species. This great flock
was a thrilling sight, as it swept in over the marsh like a great cloud
and alighted; twice, while we were watching, it arose like a swarm of
insects, circled about, separated into two divisions, joined again, and
alighted. We did not see it depart.
This seems to be the best place on the New Jersey coast to observe
shore birds in large numbers, where they alight to rest and feed on
the large, flat, marshy islands. These are mud islands raised but
a few feet above high water and some of them are partially flooded
during spring tides; they are mainly covered with salt-marsh grasses,
intersected by tidal creeks and dotted with small pond holes or bare
muddy splashes. The plover alighted on the bare spaces or in the short
grass, where the large flocks seen in the distance seemed to whiten the
ground. These large flocks, with sentinels always alert, were utterly
unapproachable; and even the small flocks and single birds were as shy
as ever. At low tide they resorted to the extensive mud flats to feed,
though they doubtless fed on the meadows also.
On Cape Cod they frequent the same localities as in the fall; my
earliest date is April 19 and my latest date for adult birds is June
29. The spring flights here and in New Jersey are made up mainly of
adult birds, mostly in full plumage, but many are mottled and there are
always some “pale bellies,” or young birds.
The black-bellied plover is an abundant spring migrant up the
Mississippi Valley and through central Canada. We saw it in
Saskatchewan during the last week in May and first week in June. C.
G. Harold tells me that it is abundant around the prairie lakes and
sloughs in Manitoba. Prof. William Rowan (1926) calls it abundant in
Manitoba; his notes mention a flock estimated at about 3,000 seen on
May 23, 1925, at Beaverhill Lake. He says:
At our lake it is one of the later arrivals in the
spring, seldom appearing before the middle of May. It
stays generally in some numbers till the end of the month
and may linger till the second week of June. Flocks are
usually small, anything up to 30, except when the birds
are ready to start on the next lap north, when they may
aggregate many hundreds if not thousands. On May 23, 1925,
we estimated the ground covered by a single flock of grey
plovers, knots, and a sprinkling of goldens at about one
and a half acres. They were not scattered, but neither were
they closely packed. The grays made up about 75 per cent of
the whole. The sitting flock looked like a large patch of
snow.
S. F. Rathbun has sent me the following notes from Washington which
illustrates the abundance of this species on the Pacific coast:
May 12, 1927. This morning was a dark one with a steady
drizzling rain and light wind following the storm of the
preceding two days. On reaching a very wide expanse of
grassy salt meadows bordering the bay we found them dotted
nearly everywhere with many of the smaller sandpipers and
black-bellied plover, the birds being in small and large
flocks and mostly grouped around the many shallow pools
with which the meadows were flecked. It was one of the
finest sights we have ever seen where shore-birds were
concerned. The beautiful black-bellied plover in full
nuptial dress were scattered over a wide area, rarely as
single birds, but ordinarily a number in company and not
infrequently in flocks of considerable size. One such flock
consisted of 50 individuals, shortly after being joined
by another of some 30 birds, the combination of so many
large black-breasted birds making a striking sight. When
first alighting the birds would stand motionless, following
which they would then move slowly about, although at times
individuals might take wing, make several turns in the air
and then alight among the others on the ground. When in
its full plumage this plover is very noticeable even a long
distance off, and when on the ground is always wary and
alert. On alighting if it does not stand motionless, the
bird will immediately move to the nearest height of land,
if such there happens to be, and from such point of vantage
will then scan the landscape, and should there happen to
be a number in company you will always find two or three
maintaining a lookout while the remainder move about rather
unconcernedly.
At times associated with the many sandpipers would be a
number of knots, but as a rule this latter species was
found in flocks by itself with this exception, that always
with a flock of knots would be one or more black-bellied
plover, such acting as sentinels for the former. And
this being the case, the knots would then unconcernedly
feed, as they seemed to rely implicitly on the plovers’
watchfulness, and we never noted this confidence misplaced.
And this fact must in instances prove the salvation of
those shore birds more or less unsuspicious and having
this plover in company, for they seem to be governed by
its actions. Sometimes, with a warning note, the sentinel
would suddenly take wing and instantly was followed by the
entire flock of other birds en masse, and all would then
fly about perhaps for a time before once more alighting on
some spot selected by the plover acting as the sentinel. At
one time during our stay there were between three and four
thousand of these plover on the meadows, and we were told
that on the preceding day during the height of the storm
this number must have been exceeded.
_Courtship._--I have never seen any signs of courtships during the
spring migration, though I have often looked for it; nor have I ever
seen any mention of it by others. Hence I infer that it is accomplished
after the birds arrive on their breeding grounds. Herbert W. Brandt
says in his Alaska notes:
During courtship the male spends considerable time on the
wing, speeding about like a racer; and amid the constant
din of wild-fowl notes his cheery whistle _to lee, to
lee_, is one of the pleasant sounds that greet the ear.
But once the female is incubating her lord becomes as
serious and silent as his sober black waistcoat, so that
by early June it seemed as if every plover had left the
country. He carries on his courtship regardless of weather,
now mounting high, the next moment skimming low, with
beautiful and bewildering grace, his wild whistling call
meanwhile rising above the din of the storm. The advance
guard of migrants of this plover arrived from the south in
a “nor’wester” on May 7, passing like phantom voyagers, and
the next instant were lost in mid-air in the swirling snow.
_Nesting._--Mr. Brandt has sent me the following notes on the nesting
habits of the black-bellied plover in the Hooper Bay region of Alaska:
We found this jauntily attired plover the most common
nesting species of the larger shore birds, frequenting the
upland rolling tundra, where it preferred the ridges. It
often chose for a nesting site the edge of one of the more
prominent bluffs which formed the margin of the valleys,
from which location the sitting bird could view the entire
surrounding country. On these barren areas, where even the
close-cropped moss struggles for existence, the vegetation
is mottled with black and white, and as a consequence
the eggs, in spite of their exposed situation, are very
difficult to find. One must almost touch them to be sure
that they are there, so completely do they harmonize
with their background. This protective coloration is so
perfect that in one case a bird deserted its nest and the
eggs remained unprotected for three days, during which
time jaegers, which were continuously hunting overhead
and about, were, even with their sharp eyes, not able to
distinguish them.
The nest is prepared by the female by scratching out in the
moss a circular depression some 6 inches in diameter and
about 1½ inches deep and lining it with a few white sprigs
of reindeer moss. Here she lays her four large beautiful
eggs, each set showing marked variation in size, shape, and
markings. These eggs are distinctive, having a considerably
lighter background than those of the golden plover, while
the black markings are not so numerous and are more evenly
distributed.
They do not nest in proximity to one another, as of the 40
or more nests observed no two were closer together than
a quarter of a mile. The female is anything but a close
sitter and departs from the eminence on which the nest is
situated long before the intruder arrives. If the eggs
are fresh, often neither bird exhibits any interest while
a person is at the nest and they do not even make their
appearance as long as he remains in their vicinity. As the
hatching point approaches, however, the birds become more
solicitous, protesting vigorously; the male develops into
a militant sentry and rushes out to meet the intruder,
repeatedly whistling _lee-ah_ in a scolding tone, but
staying well out of gun range. He is very combative and
drives away any jaeger or large gull that infringes on
his area. The female often leaves her eggs to join in the
attack, and even the swift-flying long-tailed jaeger can
not avoid their onslaughts but beats a hasty retreat. I
have seen a male plover strike a jaeger so hard that it
reeled unsteadily in mid-air, but the coward made no effort
to retaliate.
Roderick MacFarlane’s notes contain the records of seven nests found
in the vicinity of Franklin Bay, Mackenzie. The nests were all found
between July 4 and 10, in 1864 and 1865. The first was on an island
in the bay and was “composed of a few withered grasses, placed in a
hole or depression on the side, or face, of a very gentle eminence.”
At least two other nests were on islands. The female was snared on one
nest, but was devoured by a snowy owl, which also ate the four eggs.
The nesting habits of the grey plover, as this species is called by
Europeans, are apparently similar to those of our bird. Henry J.
Pearson (1896), who found seven nests on Kolguev, describes them thus:
The positions of the nests were interesting; only two were
on the lower ground near the Gobista; one was a mile both
from the sea and the river; all the others--also several
old nests--were on the tundra not far from the edge of
the bluffs which form the margin of the river basin. Grey
plovers seem to prefer this position, which gives them
good posts of observation and allows them to take their
young easily into the marshes below to feed. We found a
ready way of locating the nest of this bird was to watch a
pair of Richardson’s skua hunting over the tundra, for as
soon as they approached the nest of the plovers, both the
latter rose into the air and drove the skuas away. We never
observed these birds breeding near each other, each pair
appearing to take possession of about a mile of country.
All the nests were slight depressions in the peat, lined
with a little lichen.
If the black-bellied plover breeds in Greenland it must be very rare
there, for Dr. W. Elmer Ekblaw tells me that he saw it only twice
during the four years that he spent there. A flock that he saw on
Sutherland Island, south of Etah, on August 17, 1914, was made up of
old and young birds and the latter may have been reared there.
_Eggs._--Mr. Brandt has described the eggs so much better than I can
that I prefer to quote from his notes, as follows:
Of the more than 40 nests that we examined of the
black-bellied plover each held four eggs when its
complement was completed. Owing to the proportionate
thickness compared with its length the shape of the egg
is ovate pyriform inclining to subpyriform. The shell is
strong, finely granular, and on every egg I have seen the
lustre is uniformly dull. The ground color and markings
vary so much that hardly any two sets are the same. This
ground color appears to follow three different shades,
which are pinkish, greenish, or brownish. These types are
often quite pronounced when the eggs are fresh, but the
delicate tints fade with age. The pink type ranges from
“pale ochraceous salmon” to “light buff”; the green type
is “pale glass green”; while the brown variety is often as
dark as “cinnamon drab.” The eggs are never densely spotted
and are always most heavily marked about the large end,
but the very tip of this end is usually bare of spots, so
that, if viewed upon the long axis, a wreath of spots is
observed. These spots are usually medium in size and are
distinct, although in a few unusual examples the spots
become confluent at the large end. The primary markings are
irregularly circular and never elongated, while upon the
unusual egg these jet ornaments are of thumb-nail size.
In rare instances the markings assume the form of short
penlike scratches which mark the surface at various angles
in the same manner as is occasionally found on the eggs of
other members of the Charadriidae. The spots are uniformly
“blackish brown” to black, but, where the pigment is spread
more thinly, “deep brownish drab” or “dusky drab” tones may
be noted, while here and there “hazel” to “liver brown”
may be observed where the pigment is extremely thin. The
underlying spots are never numerous but always present
and are more prominent on some specimens than on others.
They vary in tone from “pale mouse gray” to “deep violet
gray,” dependent upon the ground color, while one specimen
with small primary spots is conspicuously beautified with
“chicory blue.” A series of these noble eggs is a study
in black and whitish, and while the individual egg is
conspicuous, yet, when resting on their mottled birthplace,
it is evident that nature has most happily endowed them
with protective coloration.
The measurements of 174 eggs average 52.2 by 36.5 millimeters; the eggs
showing the four extremes measure =58= by 38, 55.5 by =38.2=, =47.5=
by 34.7 and 51.9 by =34= millimeters. The measurements of eggs from
different localities do not throw much light on the relationship of the
proposed subspecies; 120 eggs from Hooper Bay average 52.4 by 36.7,
14 eggs from Franklin Bay average 52 by 36, and 40 eggs from European
localities average 51.6 by 35.9 millimeters.
_Young._--Several observers have proven that both sexes share in the
incubation. Mr. Brandt says in his notes:
The first downy young appeared on June 21 after an
incubation lasting 23 days, and they were just as
inconspicuous and distinctive as were the eggs whence
they emerged. At that time both parents were fearless
in their defense, employing all the wing-dragging and
distress maneuvers known to ground-nesting birds. This was
exhibited even by the male, which is rather unusual. The
downy young are variegated, sulphur-yellow and black above,
and harmonize well with the abundant yellowish moss of the
tundra. They conceal themselves by lying with head down and
with their legs drawn under their bodies and are thus very
difficult to detect.
_Plumages._--In natal down the young black-bellied plover resembles
the young golden plover, except that the band around the neck and the
under parts are purer white. The forehead, crown, and sides of the head
are variegated with black, white, and bright yellows, varying from
“lemon chrome” to “baryta yellow”; the back, rump, wings, and thighs
are mottled with black and the above shades of yellow; the nape, a
broad band around the neck and the entire under parts are pure white;
the cheeks below the eyes are white bordered below by a black stripe
extending from the bill to the auriculars.
In fresh juvenal plumage, as seen on the breeding grounds, the forehead
and lores are mainly white; the crown and all the upper parts of the
body are sepia, the feathers broadly tipped or notched with yellow,
varying from “light cadmium yellow” to “light orange yellow,” the
spots being largest and brightest on the rump; the chin is white,
but the rest of the under parts are buffy gray and pale buff, the
feathers of the throat, breast, and flanks with median dusky streaks
and faint dusky tips; the greater wing coverts are more narrowly edged,
but more conspicuously notched than in the adult. Young birds are in
juvenal plumage during migration, but the yellows have mostly faded to
creamy white or white, though the rump spots are often quite yellow. A
partial postjuvenal molt takes place late in the fall and in winter,
involving much of the body plumage, but generally not the rump and
back. Generally the molt is finished by December, but often not until
January; by this time the light edgings and notches have worn away,
giving the bird a very dark appearance. The first winter plumage is
much like the adult winter, but it can be distinguished by the creamy
or golden tips and notches of the juvenal wing coverts, by the faded
yellow spots on the rump and by some old, worn scapulars and tertials.
Young birds have an incomplete and very variable first prenuptial
molt, at which the sexes begin to differentiate. Young males acquire
more of the adult nuptial plumage than young females; sometimes the
breasts become almost wholly clear black; but in the upper parts there
is generally only a sprinkling of new, adult, broadly white-tipped
feathers, most of the first winter plumage being retained, with some
old, worn scapulars, tertials, and tails. Young females show much less
black on the breast and much more winter plumage on the back. Young
birds apparently renew the primaries in February and March and the
first postnuptial molt, the following summer and fall, produces the
adult winter plumage.
Adults have a partial prenuptial molt between February and May,
involving the body plumage, usually the tail, some of the wing coverts
and tertials, but not all the scapulars, back and rump feathers.
The complete postnuptial molt, begins with the acquisition of white
feathers in the under body plumage in August and the body molt lasts
through September, while the birds are migrating. The wings are molted
later, from September to December. In winter plumage the black breast
is entirely replaced by dull white, more or less marked or shaded
with pale, ashy brown; and the upper parts are dull, ashy brown, the
feathers tipped with white and subterminally shaded with blackish
brown. No trace of the nuptial body plumage is left and adults and
young look very much alike.
_Food._--The main feeding grounds of the black-bellied plover along
the coasts are on the broad, tidal, sand flats, and mud flats; there
are many such flats about Chatham and other places on Cape Cod, where
the receding tide leaves many square miles of flat mud or sand, dotted
with little islands of tall marsh grass. These are favorite resorts
for plover, where they may be seen away off on the edge of the water,
perhaps a mile from the shore, feeding on marine worms, small mollusks,
crustaceans, and marine insects. As the advancing tide drives them
in onto the marshes or sand dunes, they find other food; Mr. Mackay
(1892) says that “they feed also on the larvae of one of the cutworms
(Noctuidae) which they obtain on the marshes. They also eat the large
whitish maritime grasshopper (_Oedipoda maritima_).”
In the interior they feed, around the shores of the larger lakes and
on open flats, on various forms of aquatic life. They also resort to
some extent to meadows and upland pastures, where the grass is short,
and to plowed fields; here they do some good by devouring grasshoppers,
locusts, cutworms, grubs, beetles, and earthworms. They also eat some
seeds and berries. Mr. Forbush (1912) says that Prof. Samuel Aughey
found the stomachs of two of these birds “crammed with the destructive
Rocky Mountain locust.”
Grinnell, Bryant, and Storer (1918) mention a bird taken in California
which had in its stomach “14 small snails, 1 small bivalve mollusk,
and parts of 2 or more small crabs.” I once watched a bird in Florida,
which fed for some time on the broken remains of a dead crab.
_Behavior._--Mr. Brandt, in his notes, pays the following tribute to
the power of flight of this fine bird: