The first prenuptial molt begins in January; it is similar to that of

the adult but is much less complete. I have seen a young bird in full

wing molt in January and think that young birds renew their flight

feathers before the first spring. The first nuptial plumage is, I

believe, a nonbreeding plumage, as it is worn by birds which spend

the summer far south of the breeding range. I have seen birds in this

plumage, collected in Florida and Louisiana, in every month from April

to August. This plumage resembles the adult nuptial, but the head is

more streaked with dusky or black; and in the mantle, scapulars and

wing coverts there is a mixture of new rufous feathers and both old

and new blackish brown feathers. The sexes are recognizable in this

plumage, the males being much brighter. A complete molt in August

produces the adult winter plumage.

Adults have a complete postnuptial molt, from July to October, but

mainly in August, when the wings are molted. They have a partial

prenuptial molt from February to June, mainly in March and April,

involving the body plumage, but not all the scapulars or wing coverts.

_Food._--The turnstone is mainly a maritime species and its favorite

feeding grounds are the stony and sandy beaches along the seashore and

the rocky promontories and islets on the coasts. But on its inland

migrations it finds its food on the shores and beaches of the larger

lakes and rivers. The turnstone derives its name from its well-known

and conspicuous habit of turning over, with its short, stout bill and

sturdy muscles, stones, shells, clods of earth, seaweed, and other

objects in search for the dainty morsels of animal food that it finds

beneath them. If the object is not too large the bird stoops down and

overturns it with a quick jerk of the head and neck; but against a

larger obstacle it places its breast and pushes with all its strength;

it is surprising to see how large a stone or clod it can move. It also

has a peculiar habit of rooting like a pig in piles of seaweed or in

the open sand. Windrows of seaweed and other rubbish are generally full

of sand fleas and various worms and insects and their larvae, where

the turnstones and other waders find an abundant feast. Frank T. Noble

(1904) has described this very well, as follows:

He would select a likely spot on the loosely packed moss

and go at his work with a vim and rapidity entirely

different from the other species. Underneath the bits of

weed, moss, and fragments of shell his sharp upturned bill

would swiftly go and a perfect shower of these would soon

be falling in front and beside him. Finding a morsel to his

taste he would devour it in much less time than it takes to

relate it, and the rooting and tossing of the bits into the

air would continue. At times quite sizeable fragments of

shell and pieces of moss more than an inch in length would

be thrown fully 7 or 8 inches above the bird’s head, and

this he would keep up, with scarcely an instant’s pause,

for a quarter of an hour and until he had excavated a pit

large enough to almost conceal his plump, mottled body.

Occasionally he would turn about in his tracks, but as a

rule he worked in one direction.

I have seen a similar method employed on a sand flat laid bare at

low tide, where four or five turnstones were feeding, accompanied by

sanderlings and peeps. The turnstones were digging holes in the wet

sand, throwing out the sand for a distance of several inches, until

the holes were big enough to admit the whole of a man’s fist and deep

enough to conceal the bird’s head and neck. Meantime the sanderlings

were standing close by and picking up some small objects thrown

out, until driven away by savage attacks of the turnstone. On close

examination I found a number of small, black snails and other minute

mollusks in the sand thrown out. The stomach of one shot contained only

the minute mollusks and some coarse sand.

Doctor Stejneger (1885) found turnstones feeding in large numbers on

the killing grounds in the Commander Islands, “where thousands of

putrified carcasses of the slain fur seals swarm with myriads of the

white larvae of the flesh fly,” on which they grow very fat. Francis H.

Allen tells me he has seen them feeding on rocks which are bare only at

low tide and covered with barnacles. One that he watched--

sometimes simply picked its food up from among the

barnacles and rockweed, and sometimes it hammered away in

one spot like a woodpecker before getting its morsel. The

object hammered was evidently fixed. After the bird had

flown, I visited the spot and found many empty barnacle

shells--empty of barnacles, that is--some entirely empty

and others containing small snail-like mollusks with

dark-colored shells.

On the coast of South Carolina I have seen turnstones feeding on the

beds of coon oysters and have watched them busily engaged in chasing

the small fiddler crabs on the muddy banks of tidal creeks and on the

mud lumps; they had to run very fast to catch the spry little animals

and probably had to pick out the smallest ones. Mr. Wayne (1910) says:

“On Capers Island it frequents live oak trees which are covered with

small mussels, upon which it eagerly feeds. If some of the mussels

happen to be on an inclined limb the birds walk, instead of flying, to

reach them. I have seen as many as four of these, one behind the other,

on a small limb out in the surf.”

Mr. Manniche (1910) says that just after their arrival in Greenland

the turnstones feed mainly on vegetable food; the stomach of a bird

taken on May 22 contained only remains of plants. Dr. Paul Bartsch

(1922), referring to his visit to Midway Island, writes: “It was a

decided surprise to us to find waders in bushes feeding upon berries,

and yet this was the case here. Again and again we flushed bunches of

turnstones from the dense _Scaevola_ thickets and watched them circle

about for some time, only to realight in the tops of another clump

of bushes. Specimens shot on Sand Island were filled with _Scaevola_

berries.”

C. J. Maynard (1896) says that they sometimes resort to marshes and

feed on grasshoppers. Their main food supply evidently consists of

small crustaceans, small mollusks, insects, and their larvae, all

of which they consume in large quantities and in great variety. In

Massachusetts it is sometimes called the “horse-foot snipe,” because of

its fondness for the eggs of the horse-foot crab. John T. Nichols tells

me that it scratches up the eggs by “jumping in the air and striking

with both its feet at once into the sand, thus making a hole about 3

inches deep and 1½ inches across.”

Dr. Alexander Wetmore contributes the following interesting notes:

The greatest surprise came when on Laysan Island it was

found that these and other shore birds were persistent

enemies of the sooty and gray-backed terns, as they

destroyed the eggs of the terns at every opportunity. For

the first few days when turnstones were seen greedily

eating terns’ eggs I supposed that they were merely

finishing eggs that had been opened by other birds, but

on further observation found that these shore birds were

bold marauders that drove their bills into the eggs of

terns at every opportunity and were only prevented from

attacking the nests of boobies and man-o-war birds by the

fact that the shell of the egg in these species was so

hard that they could not break it. As we moved through the

great colonies of sooty terns the birds near at hand rose

before us from their eggs, often communicating the alarm

to neighbors so that at times clouds of birds arose to

fill the air. At our heels, 15 or 20 feet behind us, came

little groups of turnstones well aware that this uproar

among the sharp-beaked terns meant unprotected nests, where

they could attack the eggs with impunity. The turnstones

ran quickly about driving their bills into the eggs without

the slightest hesitation, breaking open the side widely and

feeding eagerly on the contents, sometimes two or three

gathering for an instant to demolish one egg and then

with this one half consumed running on to attack another.

The havoc wrought among the terns was so great that we

forbade the sailors from approaching the colonies, and

made it a rule among the naturalists to keep away except

when necessity for some observation made it imperative to

disturb the birds.

The densely packed colonies of aggressive sooty terns were

open to attack mainly along the borders except when the

birds were disturbed, but the little scattered groups of

gray-backed terns (_Sterna lunata_) on the open beaches

were entirely at the mercy of the turnstones, so that

it seemed that the gentle terns could not hope for a

successful nesting until the close of May carried the horde

of their marauding persecutors away to northern homes.

So bold were the shore birds that on one occasion I saw

two actually push aside the feathers on the sides of the

incubating tern, drag her egg from beneath her breast, and

proceed to open and devour it within 6 inches of the nest.

The tern remained in incubating pose, plainly troubled by

such unexpected boldness but seemingly not comprehending

its portent, nodding her head with that of her mate

standing beside her, and finally reaching out to draw the

half-empty shell of her treasure again beneath her, while

the robbers, temporarily satisfied, pattered away in search

of other prey. On several occasions when, in walking along

the beaches above high-tide mark I flushed gray-backed

terns from their nests, I saw that they carried with

them as they flew away shells of broken eggs, which not

understanding that they had been destroyed they had covered

while the hardening albumen flowing over the outside of the

shell had glued the whole to their feathers.

The Rev. F. C. R. Jourdain contributes the following notes on the food

of this species:

As it is almost invariably found near the coast the food

is chiefly marine in character: Mollusca, chiefly small

univalves such as _Litorina_ (L. Florence records 134

opercula of small molluscks); small Crustacea, especially

Gammaridae; A. H. Clark records fry of a small fish

(_Sicydium plumieri_) up to 1½ inches in length; insects,

including Coleoptera, Diptera (_Tipulidae_ and larvae of

_Chironomidae_), Lepidoptera (_Argynnis charidea_ and

_Dasychira groenlandica_) recorded by H. C. Hart and

_Hymenoptera_. Also Arachnida and Acaridea (Feilden). Also

some vegetable matter (seeds of _Draba alpina_, pieces of

seaweed, etc.).

_Behavior._--When migrating turnstones fly in large flocks by

themselves or with black-bellied plovers, often in immense flocks;

at such times they usually fly high. But, while sojourning on the

way, they are usually in small numbers and very often seen singly.

One or two birds are often associated with mixed flocks or scattered

gatherings of semipalmated plover, sanderlings, or other small waders.

Their flight is strong, swift, and steady, usually direct, but

sometimes in a semicircle, out from the shore and back again; when

not traveling they generally fly low. There is something peculiar

about their flight which can be recognized at a long distance, but I

can not describe it satisfactorily. They are essentially shore birds,

frequenting the stony, rocky, or sandy beaches of the seashore or

the larger lakes. They are not particularly shy, and sometimes very

tame. When they first alight they stand and survey the landscape

until sure that they are safe. They then mingle freely with the other

small waders, feeding unconcernedly, and treating their companions

with indifference until one comes too near. Then the turnstone shows

its jealous and pugnacious disposition; it will allow no competition,

in the spot where it is feeding, from another bird, even of its own

species, but with lowered head, drooping wings, and hunched up back

it rushes at the intruder in a threatening attitude and perhaps gives

him a few jabs with its sharp bill. Many a miniature cockfight or sham

battle is enacted and the turnstone is generally the aggressor, though

once I saw a sanderling drive away a turnstone. It appears like a big

bully that is attracted to the feast that others have found and then is

unwilling to share it with them.

Turnstones can swim well and probably alight on the water to rest while

making long flights over the ocean. Dr. Donald B. MacMillan (1918) saw

“a large flock alight upon the water in Kennedy Channel.” They love

to bathe in shallow water, squatting down and fluttering their wings,

sometimes partly rolling over; then they spend much time preening and

dressing their pretty plumage. N. B. Moore says in his notes that “this

species alights on the dead branches of mangroves, stumps, and stakes

that stand in the water near the shore from 2 to 6 feet above it and

sits in the manner of a Carolina dove.”

_Voice._--John T. Nichols has contributed the following on the ordinary

notes of the turnstone:

The common flight note of this species is an unloud

polysyllabic one, something like a cackle, which does not

carry far. It is usually given by birds that are leaving

the vicinity, but not so frequently heard at other times

as are the flight notes of various species. This note

is sometimes three syllabled, _ketakek_, or may be of a

single syllable, _kek_, on taking wing. A much rarer, loud,

plover-like _kik-kyu_ has been heard from a turnstone when

coming to decoys or flying along the edge of favorable

marshes. The cackle of the turnstone is almost impossible

to imitate, but they will decoy readily to a whistled

imitation of the cry of their associate the black-bellied

plover.

The song of the turnstone as heard on its breeding grounds few have

been privileged to hear. Mr. Brandt calls it “a loud but not unpleasant

note, rapidly repeated--_kye-ute-cat-tat-tah_.” Mr. Jourdain has

given us, under courtship, his impressions of it and those of Messrs.

Trevor-Battye and Paget-Wilkes.

_Field marks._--The turnstone is a conspicuous and well-marked

bird, not likely to be mistaken for anything else. It is a stout,

short-legged bird with a short neck and a short, straight bill. In its

brilliant spring plumage the white head, black throat, red legs, and

rufous back are unique field marks. But the best field marks, most

conspicuous in the nuptial plumage, but present in all plumages, are

the five white stripes on the upper surface, which show very plainly

as the bird flies away; these are a broad central stripe on the back,

separated by a black patch on the rump from the white area in the tail,

a narrow stripe on the outer edge of the scapulars and a band across

the wing on the secondaries and primaries. Unfortunately for observers

on the Pacific coast, the black turnstone has somewhat similar white

stripes, but the pattern is a little different.

_Fall._--Adult turnstones begin to leave their summer homes in

Greenland about the middle of July, with the knots and sanderlings,

and before the end of August the last of the young birds have left.

Lucien M. Turner obtained an adult from Davis Inlet on July 25; but

the species apparently avoids Ungava, for the only bird he saw there

was a young male taken on August 20. Probably the birds which breed

in western Greenland migrate coastwise along the Labrador coast and

Nova Scotia to New England. We saw the first turnstones at Cape Sable,

Nova Scotia, on July 30 and 31; but my earliest record for adults

in Massachusetts is on August 1; adults are common here all through

August; the young birds come along late in August, and I have seen them

here as late as October 12.

There is a heavy migration down the west coast of Hudson Bay. Edward A.

Preble (1902) saw the first turnstones at Fort Churchill on July 30;

and on August 10 to 13 he “observed many small flocks about 25 miles

south of Cape Eskimo”; August 21 to 26 he saw “many flocks daily.” From

the Hudson Bay region the main flight seems to be southeastward through

the Great Lakes region to the Atlantic coast. It seems to be very rare

in the fall west of eastern Manitoba and Ohio; and it extends as far

east as the Bermudas and the West Indies.

Some of the birds which breed in Alaska migrate down the Pacific

coasts of North and South America at about the same dates as the

Atlantic coast birds; but large numbers pass down the Asiatic coast,

through Japan and China, to islands in the Southern Hemisphere. Doctor

Stejneger (1885) says that in the Commander Islands during the latter

part of July large flocks return from the north.

From this time until late autumn enormous masses of

them may be seen on the killing grounds, near the seal

rookeries, where thousands of putrified carcasses of the

slain fur seals swarm with myriads of the white larvae of

the flesh fly, upon which the pretty turnstones feed and

grow exceedingly fat. At sunset they retire to the beach,

where they pass the night, not, however, without having

performed a soldierlike drill by flying up and down the

endless tundra, now in full body, now again in detached

divisions, and with admirable precision turning and

maneuvering as if obeying the command of a leading officer.

As to the migration on the Pribilof Islands, William Palmer (1899)

writes:

On July 12, 1890, I saw probably the first bird that landed

on St. Paul during the fall migration. From that date they

daily increased rapidly until by the end of July they

swarmed everywhere. They reach the island by way of the

northeastern shore and in straggling flocks or singly fly

southward through the island during the day, banking up in

large numbers when the village killing ground is reached.

They spread out on the slopes, resting on the rocks and

little hillocks during the day. They soon find the feast

awaiting them on the killing ground, and the marks of their

work around nearly every seal carcass is soon noticeable.

As the water disappears by soakage and evaporation in the

village pond they turn up the black sand in thousands of

little hillocks, each with a narrow depression made by

their bill beside it. At low tide the lagoon beaches are

a favorite resting and feeding place. By the end of July

many become so fat that they are run down and captured by

the young Aleuts. Their departure from St. Paul is quite a

feature of the avifaunan exhibition. About 6 in the evening

a small flock of perhaps 40 birds will rise into the air

from about the village pond and uttering loud, shrill cries

will fly up to near the head of the lagoon. Here making a

wide sweep they return, gathering fresh recruits on their

way, until the vicinity of the pond is again reached.

Sweeping around in a constantly ascending course they

return up the lagoon, and turning once more, screaming as

they go, and adding to their numbers, they make a straight

course high over the village hill and on out to sea over

the reef point. This invariably took place every evening

during the latter part of my stay on the island. It was

always the rule that a dense fog bank hung all around

the island at that time, so that even the reef point was

not visible, but the birds went into the fog without the

slightest hesitation. They left their landmarks behind.

Several flocks averaging about a hundred birds left nearly

every evening from the end of July until I left on August

10. The first arrivals on the island were always adults;

the young were not noted for at least 10 days. According

to Elliott they all leave the islands after the 10th of

September.

Many of these birds must make the 2,000-mile flight over the ocean from

the Commander or Aleutian Islands to the Hawaiian Islands. They have

repeatedly been seen in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, hundreds of

miles from land. This does not seem so remarkable, now that we know

that they can alight and rest on the water and rise from it easily.

They must go a long time without food or find a very scanty supply of

it, as it must take 40 or 50 hours to make the trip. But Dr. Henry W.

Henshaw (1902) says that some of the first arrivals on these islands,

which he shot about the middle of August, “were all of them plump and

in fine order for the table.”

_Game._--The turnstone has never attained great importance as a game

bird, though it was formerly counted in the list of “big birds” in the

gunner’s bag. It was plump and generally fat, so that it made a good

table bird. It has a variety of local names, such as chicken plover,

calico bird, brant bird, etc. It decoys well to almost any decoys and,

although its own note is difficult to imitate, it will respond readily

to the call of its favorite companion, the black-bellied plover.

_Winter._--The ruddy turnstone spends the winter on the coasts of

the southern States and on both coasts of South America, from South

Carolina to Brazil and from southern California to Chile. The larger,

Old World form, _interpres_, apparently does not winter anywhere in

the Western Hemisphere, but occupies the coasts of southern Europe and

Asia, much of Africa, some of the oceanic islands, and Australia. If we

are to recognize the Pacific form, _oahuensis_, there is yet much to

be learned about the limits of its winter and summer ranges and where

it intergrades with _interpres_. The island of Oahu in the Hawaiian

Islands is the type locality of _oahuensis_; and it probably has a wide

range among Pacific islands.

Dr. Alexander Wetmore says in his notes:

In the remote islands of the Hawaiian bird reservation the

turnstone is common during the period of northern winter,

and a few sterile or injured individuals may remain through

the summer. Though common along the sandy beaches and the

shores of lagoons, as is usual, at times they exhibited

curious habits, as on Ocean Island they ran back from

the open shore beneath the thickets of beach magnolia

(_Scaevola_), penetrating the entire island in cover as

dense as that ordinarily chosen by woodcock. It was always

a surprise when one, attracted by some sound, flew up from

under the bushes and perched on a dead branch to look at

me. On Midway turnstones ran about on the lawns at the

cable station like robins, with so domestic and contented

an air that it was at times difficult to recall that they

were here merely as transients, and that soon they would be

nesting in arctic tundras.

Charles Barrett writes to me from Australia, as follows:

One of our most interesting summer visitors, the turnstone

frequents open beaches on the mainland generally in small

flocks, and also favors reefs and coral strands among the

tropical and subtropical islands. When camped, with other

members of the Royal Australasian Ornithologists’ Union, on

Masthead Island, Capricorn Group, Queensland, in October,

1910, I observed many turnstones on the white coral-sand

beach. Apparently, with waders of other species, they had

recently arrived, after the long flight from their breeding

grounds. They were active enough, but in poor condition.

During migration, they can have little chance to obtain

food, and the strain of flying thousands of miles affects

even the healthiest birds. But they obtain abundance of

food in their Austral haunts, and soon become plump again.

Many localities in Australia are admirably suited to the

turnstone’s needs, and it is not a rare bird with us,

indeed, on islands of the Great Barrier Reef, northeastern

Queensland, it may be termed a common species.

W. B. Alexander tells me that the turnstone is “a fairly common visitor

to Australian coasts. My earliest record is of a pair seen on the beach

at Oyster Cay, Great Barrier Reef, North Queensland, on August 27,

1925, and my latest record a pair on the estuary of the Lost River on

the south coast of Western Australia on April 25, 1914.”

DISTRIBUTION

ARENARIA INTERPRES INTERPRES

_Range._--Mainly in the Eastern Hemisphere.

_Breeding range._--The turnstone breeds on the Arctic coasts of both

hemispheres, but its exact status in North America is still somewhat

indefinite. The known breeding range extends from probably Greenland

(Disco Bay, Tuctoo Valley, and Bowdoin Bay); east to Iceland; Norway

(Smolen Islands); Sweden; Lapland; Finland; Nova Zembla; Siberia

(Balagansk, and Plover Bay); Kamchatka; probably the Commander Islands;

and Alaska (St. Lawrence Island, St. Michaels, Takshagemut, Port

Clarence, probably Cape Lowenstern and Point Barrow).

Life histories of North American shore birds, Part 2 (of 2) · 第 35 / 42 段