in this and in the care of the young. An incubating woodcock is
notorious as a close sitter and can not usually be flushed from the nest
unless nearly trodden upon; often it can be touched or even lifted from
the eggs. The young are rather feeble when first hatched and are brooded
by the parent bird much of the time for the first day or two. If flushed
from her brood of young the female flutters away for a short distance as
if hardly able to fly, with dangling legs and tail depressed and spread.
If the young are strong enough to walk, she calls to them making a
clucking sound, to which they respond with a faint peeping sound, as
they run toward her; having gathered them under her wings, she covers
them again trusting to her concealing coloration. If the young are too
young and feeble to run, she may return when she thinks it safe, and
carry them off between her legs, one at a time. Several reliable and
accurate observers have testified to seeing this done; some who have not
seen it have doubted it. The following account by Edwyn Sandys (1904)
seems convincing:
The nest in question was on a bit of level ground amid tall trees.
The sole suggestion of cover was a lot of flattened leaves which
lay as the snow had left them. Perhaps 10 yards away was an old
rail fence about waist-high, and on the farther side of it was a
clump of tall saplings. A man coming out of the wood told me he had
just flushed a woodcock and had seen her brood, recently hatched
and pointed out where they were. I went in to investigate, and
located one young bird crouched on the leaves. It ran a few steps
and again crouched, evidently not yet strong enough for any
sustained effort. I went off, and hid behind a stump, to await
developments. From this shelter the young bird was visible and it
made no attempt to move. Presently the old one came fluttering
back, alighted near the youngster, and walked to it. In a few
moments she rose and flew low and heavily, merely clearing the
fence, and dropping perhaps 10 yards within the thicket. Her legs
appeared to be half bent, and so far as I could determine the
youngster was held between them. Something about her appearance
reminded me of a thing often seen--a shrike carrying off a small
bird. I carefully marked her down, then glanced toward where the
youngster had been. It was no longer there; and a few moments later
it, or its mate, was found exactly where the mother had gone down.
She flushed and made off in the usual summer flight.
William H. Fisher writes to me:
On May 16, 1903, I flushed an old bird at upper end of the Eagle
Woods. She left three young on the ground, they remaining very
quiet, cuddled in the dead leaves. In a few minutes she returned
and alighted by them took one _between her legs_, holding it tight
up to her belly, and flew off into a thicket. I sat and watched the
other two young for about 15 minutes, hoping and expecting the
mother bird would return, but, she not doing so, I got tired and
left. As the usual set of eggs is four, I wonder if the old bird
carried off one when she first flushed.
John T. Nichols tells, in his notes, of a brood found on Long Island:
This brood was found early in the morning by working painstakingly
in a narrow stand of trees where a nest was suspected. The parent
bird rose from almost under foot and fluttered away, as is
customary in such cases, with tail spread, pointing down, legs
dangling wide apart. It was perhaps a minute before the eye could
pick out four young lying motionless side by side, so inconspicuous
was their color against the background. For another couple of
minutes they lay motionless. Then of one accord rolled to their
feet and spreading their baby wings aloft, as though to balance,
walked deliberately away with fine, scarcely audible cheeping, each
in a slightly different direction. Apparently reliable reports are
current of the woodcock carrying its young, but the characteristic
peculiar labored flight, with deflected tail and widespread legs,
just described, may also easily give such an impression
erroneously.
Again he writes:
Just after sunrise on a clear morning I came upon 3 birds in an
open field. Two of them flew in different directions, one swiftly
and silently quickly disappeared, the other in the peculiar
fluttering manner characteristic of a parent when surprised with
young. As I reached the point where the two had risen the presence
of helpless young was confirmed by the actions of a bird on the
ground some 75 yards away, at the edge of the trees to which the
parent had flown. Its head up, watching me, both wings were
extended to the side, flapping feebly.
I had stood a couple of minutes scrutinizing the ground about,
when my eye alighted on a fledgling. At the same instant it rose
to its feet, raised and extended its wings to the side, and began
to walk rapidly away, calling a high-pitched _seep_! Its wings
were fully feathered, though little grown, feathers extending
narrowly between them across the back, sides of its lower parts
feathered, feathers not quite meeting in the center, otherwise in
down. Contrast its helplessness with the young bobwhite which
flies at a much earlier stage.
Audubon (1840) describes the actions of the anxious mother in the
following well-chosen words:
She scarcely limps, nor does she often flutter along the ground, on
such occasions; but with half extended wings, inclining her head to
one side, and uttering a soft murmur, she moves to and fro, urging
her young to hasten towards some secure spot beyond the reach of
their enemies. Regardless of her own danger, she would to all
appearance gladly suffer herself to be seized, could she be assured
that by such a sacrifice she might ensure the safety of her brood.
On an occasion of this kind, I saw a female woodcock lay herself
down on the middle of a road, as if she were dead, while her little
ones, five in number, were endeavoring on feeble legs to escape
from a pack of naughty boys, who had already caught one of them,
and were kicking it over the dust in barbarous sport. The mother
might have shared the same fate, had I not happened to issue from
the thicket, and interpose in her behalf.
_Plumages._--The downy young woodcock, when newly hatched, is
conspicuously and handsomely marked; the upper parts are "warm buff" or
"light ochraceous buff," distinctively marked with rich "seal brown";
these markings consist (with some individual variation) of a large,
central crown patch, extending in a stripe down the forehead, a large
occipital patch, a stripe from the bill through the eye to the occiput,
a broad stripe down the center and one down each side of the back, a
patch on each wing and each thigh and irregular markings on the sides of
the head and neck; the under parts are more rufous, "pinkish cinnamon"
or "cinnamon buff," and unmarked.
The juvenal plumage appears at an early age, coming in first on the back
and wings; the wings grow rapidly, and the young bird can fly long
before it is fully grown. This plumage is much like that of the adult,
but it can be distinguished during the first summer by its looser
texture and by broader brown edgings on the wing coverts, scapulars, and
tertials. A prolonged postnuptial molt of the body plumage during late
summer and fall produces a first winter plumage which is nearly adult.
At the first prenuptial molt, in late winter and spring, young birds
become indistinguishable from adults.
Adults have an incomplete prenuptial molt, involving the body plumage,
some wing coverts, scapulars, and tertials, in late winter and early
spring, and a complete postnuptial molt in July and August. Fall birds
are much more richly colored than spring adults.
_Food._--The woodcock is a voracious feeder; its principal food is
earthworms or angleworms, of which it has been known to eat more than
its own weight in 24 hours. It is said to feed mainly at night or during
the hours of twilight or dusk. The worms are obtained by probing in mud
or damp earth in any place where worms are to be found, including
gardens and cultivated fields. The long bill of the woodcock is well
supplied with sensitive nerves, in which the sense of touch is highly
developed; it can detect the movements of a worm in the soil and capture
it by probing. Numerous borings are often seen close together,
indicating that the bird does not always strike the worm at the first
stab. Probably its keen ears also help to locate its prey. It is said to
beat the soft ground with its feet or wings, which is supposed to
suggest the effect of pattering rain and draw the worms toward the
surface.
C. J. Maynard (1896) made the following observations on a captive bird:
The floor of its house was covered to the depth of four or five
inches with dark-colored loam, in which I planted a quantity of
weeds, beneath which the woodcock could hide. I would drop a number
of worms on this soil, which, as the bird was too shy to feed at
first, had ample time to bury themselves. At times, however, I was
able to watch the bird unseen by it; then the woodcock, which had
remained hidden in the corner behind the sheltering weeds, would
emerge cautiously and walk over the ground, slowly and
deliberately, pausing every instant or two as if listening
intently. Then he would stamp with one foot, giving several sharp,
quick blows, after which he would bow his head near the ground and
again listen. Then suddenly he would turn either to the right or
left or take a step or two forward, plunge his bill into the earth,
and draw out a worm, which he would swallow, then repeat this
performance until all the worms were eaten.
During dry spells, when the worms have returned to the subsoil, the
woodcock must seek other foods. It then resorts to the woods, where it
turns over the leaves in search of grubs, slugs, insects, and larvae. It
has even been known to eat grasshoppers. Mr. Rich (1907) says that in
early spring, before the alder covers are open, it feeds on ants.
Frederick S. Webster (1887) reports a singular case, where the crop of a
woodcock was crammed full of leaves of a common fern.
_Behavior._--The woodcock is so nocturnal or crepuscular in its habits
that it remains quietly hidden in its favorite covers during the day and
is seldom seen to fly unless disturbed, when it flutters up through the
trees with a weak, irregular, or zigzag flight, dodging the branches.
When clear of obstructions, it flies more swiftly and directly, but
usually for only a short distance, and soon pitches down into the cover
again. One can usually follow it and flush it again and again. Toward
dusk it becomes much more active, and its shadowy form is often seen
flying over the tree tops and across open places to its feeding grounds.
At such times its flight is steady and direct, with regular wing
strokes; its chunky form with its long bill pointing downward is easily
recognized. While traveling at night its flight is quite swift. When
rising in flight the woodcock produces, usually but not always, a
distinct whistling or twittering sound. This has led to much discussion
and differences of opinion, as to whether the sound is produced by the
wings or is vocal. I am inclined to the latter theory, for I have often
seen a woodcock fly without whistling, and many others have referred to
such a flight.
Few of us have ever seen a woodcock alight in a tree, but Mr. Rich
(1907) refers to several instances where the bird has been seen to do
this by reliable witnesses. Once he himself shot one in the act.
_Voice._--Except during the spectacular song-flight and courtship
performance, the woodcock is a very silent bird, unless we regard the
twittering heard when it rises as vocal. Mr. Nichols says in his notes:
The quality of the twitter of a rising woodcock corresponds more or
less to the character of its flight. When, as is frequently the
case, the bird merely flutters a short distance to drop again
behind the screen of undergrowth, it amounts to little more than
the chirping of crickets. On one occasion when I observed an
individual barely escape the attack of an _Accipiter_, this sound,
as it rose, was less shrill and loud than often, but more rapid and
sustained, with an incisive quality suggesting a rattle snake's
alarm. When a woodcock rises through thick brush or brambles its
wings make a whirring sound not unlike that of the bob white,
accompanied by a slight twitter.
Mr. Brewster (1925) writes:
Many years ago I expressed in print a belief that the whistling
sound made by a rising woodcock is produced by the bird's wings.
This conviction has since been confirmed by field experience at the
lake with woodcock killed during the first half of September, and
in varying conditions of moult. Such of them as still retained or
had just renewed the attenuated outer primaries, almost always
whistled when flushed, whereas no sound other than a dull
fluttering one was ever heard from any of those not thus equipped.
Hence I continue to hold firmly to the opinion that the woodcock's
clear, silvery whistle emanates from these "whistling quills", as
sportsmen fitly term them, and not from the bird's throat. There
are, however, certain sounds, not very unlike those which combine
to form the usual characteristic whistle, but more disconnected and
twittering, which may be of vocal origin. One hears them oftenest
from the woodcock hovering, just before alighting, or flitting low
over the ground for trifling distances, beating their wings rather
listlessly. This comparatively slow pulsation of the wings might
account for the interrupted sequence of the sounds, but not
perhaps, for their seemingly throaty quality.
Edward H. Forbush (1925) quotes three observers, as follows:
Mr. W. H. Harris asserts that he held a woodcock by the bill which
whistled three times with a rotary motion of body and wings. Mr. J.
M. Dinsmore held a woodcock by the body and wings to prevent
movement of these parts, and he says that this bird whistled
through its mouth and throat. Mr. H. Austin avers that he flushed a
woodcock that did not whistle, marked the bird and put him up again
when he whistled, which indicates that the bird may have made the
sound with its vocal equipment.
Fall.--The following from the pen of Mr. Forbush (1912) illustrates the
conditions which affect the fall flight:
The flights of birds from the North have not diminished in number
so much as have the native birds. Occasionally a large flight stops
here, as in early November, 1908, when woodcock were plentiful
here, and when some gunners in Connecticut secured from 20 to 40
birds each in a day. This flight did not denote such an increase in
the number of these birds, however, as generally was believed. The
explanation is that they all came at once. The birds in Maine and
the Provinces had a good breeding season, and they must have had a
plentiful supply of food, for the autumn weather was mild, and they
mostly remained in their northern homes until nearly the 1st of
November. Flight birds were rare in Massachusetts up to that time,
and the bags were small. The fall had been warm and dry, but on
October 29 and 30 New England and the Provinces experienced a
severe northeast storm along the seaboard, followed by a cold
northwest wind, which probably froze up the northern feeding
grounds, if the storm had not already buried them in snow. Either
or both of these conditions drove the woodcock into southern New
England. My correspondence shows that this flight landed in every
county of Massachusetts except Dukes and Nantucket. As usual,
comparatively few were seen in Barnstable County. Connecticut
covers harbored many woodcock from about November 12 to November
20. There were many in Rhode Island, and the flight was noted as
far south as Delaware.
_Game._--It is as a game bird that the woodcock is best known, most
beloved, and most popular, for it is a prince among game birds, and its
flesh is a delight to the palate of an epicure. What sportsman will not
stop in his pursuit of other game to hunt some favorite corner, some
woodland border, or some brushy hillside where he has flushed this bird
of mystery before? And what a thrill he gets as the brown ball of
feathers suddenly flutters up from almost underfoot among the crisp
autumn leaves, dodging up through the branches with a whistled note of
warning, and flies away over the treetops! Perhaps he was too surprised
at first to shoot; but, if he marked it down, he can soon flush it
again, for it has not gone far; then, if he is quick and true at snap
shooting, he may pick up the coveted prize, admire the soft, warm, ruddy
breast, the pretty pattern of woodland lights and shades, the delicate
long bill, and the big liquid eyes. An aristocrat among game birds!
In the early days, when I first began shooting, summer woodcock shooting
was regularly practiced; the season opened in July, when the young birds
of late broods were not large enough to furnish good sport and were not
fit for the table. Moreover, the weather was often hot and the foliage
was dense, making it unsatisfactory for the sportsmen. The only excuse
for it was that it allowed some shooting in certain sections where local
birds departed early and where flight birds seldom occurred. It went far
towards exterminating local breeding birds in Massachusetts; it was bad
for all concerned, and it is well that it was abandoned.
From the above and other causes woodcocks have decreased alarmingly
during the past 50 years. One gets an impressive idea of the former
abundance of the birds by reading the quaint shooting tales of Frank
Forester, in which he boasts of having shot with a friend 125 birds in
one day and 70 the next day before noon, and this with the old-fashioned
muzzle-loading guns. His hunting trips were joyous occasions, in which
the noonday luncheon, washed down with ample draughts of applejack, held
a prominent place.
By far the best shooting is to be had on flight birds, which are big and
fat and strong on the wing. In warm weather they frequent the black
alder thickets where there are bunches of grass and weeds, or the
vicinity of brooks or springs where there is a growth of alders,
willows, and birches. On crisp, cold days in October they may be found
on sunny hillsides or ridges, among birches, bayberries, or
huckleberries, on the sunny edges of the woods, in cedar pastures, in
locust scrub, or even in old scrubby orchards. For shooting in thick
cover a light short-barreled gun that scatters well is desirable, for
snapshots at short range are often necessary. I prefer a light charge of
fine shot, which scatters more and does not tear the birds so badly. A
good dog adds much to the pleasure of hunting and is very helpful in
locating or retrieving birds. The birds will sometimes run for short
distances before a setter or pointer, and it is often necessary for the
shooter to flush his own bird, which may place him in a poor position to
shoot. Therefore a well-trained spaniel, which runs around close to the
shooter and flushes the birds, is generally more satisfactory.
For those who have no dog, or prefer to hunt without one, there is
another method of shooting woodcocks which can be practiced successfully
by one who is sufficiently familiar with their haunts and habits. From
their haunts on the uplands, where they rest during the day, the birds
fly through the open just before dark to their favorite feeding place
along some swampy run or boggy thicket, resorting regularly to the same
spot night after night. If the shooter knows of such a place, where the
birds are fairly plentiful, he can station himself there about sunset
and feel reasonably sure of a few shots during the brief time that the
birds are coming in. But increasing darkness soon makes shooting
difficult.
_Enemies._--Like other ground nesting birds, woodcocks undoubtedly have
many natural enemies among the predatory animals and birds; but these
have always existed without detriment to the species. As has often been
said, predatory birds and animals destroy mainly the weak and diseased
individuals, which are the most easily caught; the stronger and more
vigorous individuals are more likely to escape and perpetuate a hardier
race, better fitted to survive.
The natural elements often take their toll in a wholesale destruction.
Arthur T. Wayne (1910) relates the effect of a cold wave on the coast of
South Carolina, February 13 and 14, 1899, when the thermometer dropped
to 14° and the ground was covered with deep snow; he writes:
The woodcock arrived in countless thousands. Prior to their arrival
I had seen but two birds the entire winter. They were everywhere
and were completely bewildered. Tens of thousands were killed by
would-be sportsmen, and thousands were frozen to death. The great
majority were so emaciated that they were practically feathers and
of course were unable to withstand the cold. One man killed 200
pairs in a few hours, I shot a dozen birds. Late Tuesday afternoon
I easily caught several birds on the snow and put them into a
thawed spot on the edge of a swift running stream in order that
they would not perish, but upon going to the place the next morning
I found one frozen. These were fearfully emaciated and could
scarcely fly. Two birds were killed in Charleston in Broad Street.
It will be many years before this fine bird can establish itself
under most favorable conditions.
Telegraph and other wires cause the death of thousands of birds.
Woodcocks migrate at night and fly low; if they strike head, bill, or
breast against a wire it means almost certain death. Many dead birds are
picked up under wires. Wires are increasing all the time and it is to be
hoped that the birds will learn to avoid them.
But the main cause of the woodcock's disappearance is excessive hunting
of a bird too easily killed, summer shooting in the North, and
wholesale slaughter during a long winter season in the South. A good
account of the barbarous sport, called fire hunting, as practiced in
Louisiana, is given by Dr. E. J. Lewis (1885), as follows:
The shooter, armed with a double-barreled gun, and decked with a
broad-brimmed palmetto hat, sallies forth on a foggy night to the
"ridge," where the cocks are now feeding in wonderful numbers. His
companion on these expeditions is generally a stout-built negro,
bearing before him a species of old-fashioned warming pan, in which
is deposited a goodly supply of pine knots. Having arrived on the
ground, the cocks are soon heard whizzing about on every side; the
pine knots are quickly kindled into a flame, and carried over the
head of the negro. The shooter keeps as much as possible in the
shade, with his broad-brimmed palmetto protecting his eyes from the
glare, and follows close after the torch bearer, who walks slowly
ahead. The cocks are soon seen sitting about on the ground, staring
widely around in mute astonishment, not knowing what to do, and are
easily knocked over with a slight pop of the gun, or more
scientifically brought to the ground as they go booming off to the
marshes.
The lurid glare of the torch only extends to a distance of 20
yards or so around the negro; the sportsman must, therefore, be on
the _qui vive_ to knock the birds over as soon as they rise,
otherwise they will immediately be shrouded in the impenetrable
darkness of night.
These excursions are carried on with great spirit, sometimes
continue the whole night through, and the slaughter of the cocks
is often very great; with an experienced "fire hunter" it is no
unusual occurrence to bag in this way 50 couple before morning.
DISTRIBUTION
_Range._--The eastern United States and Canada.
_Breeding range._--North to southern Manitoba (Brandon, Portage la
Prairie, and Winnipeg); northern Michigan (Palmer, Sheldrake Lake, and
Mackinac Island); southern Ontario (Bracebridge, Madoc, and Ottawa);
southern Quebec (Montreal); southern New Brunswick (Grand Falls and
North River); and Nova Scotia (Pictou). East to Nova Scotia (Pictou,
Halifax, and Yarmouth); Maine (Rockland and Portland); Massachusetts
(Winchendon and Boston); Rhode Island (Newport); Connecticut (Saybrook);
New Jersey (Morristown, Laurenceville, Tuckerton, and Sea Isle City);
Maryland (Baltimore, and Cecil, Dorchester, and Worcester Counties);
District of Columbia (Washington); Virginia (Locustville, Norfolk, and
Lake Drummond); North Carolina (Walke and New Bern); South Carolina
(Summerville and Capers Island); Georgia (Savannah, Blackbeard Island,
Okefinokee Swamp, and St. Marys); and Florida (Jacksonville and
Micanopy). South to Florida (Micanopy and Tallahassee); Alabama
(Autaugaville and Pleasant Hill); Mississippi (Cedar Grove); Louisiana
(Covington); and Texas (Sour Lake). West to Texas (Sour Lake); Arkansas
(Clinton and Newport); eastern Kansas (Neosho Falls); eastern Nebraska
(London and West Point); southeastern South Dakota (Vermilion); probably
western Minnesota (Ortonville); eastern North Dakota (Larimore and
Bathgate); and southern Manitoba (Portage la Prairie).
Casual in summer west to Colorado (Boulder and Denver); Wyoming (Fort
Bridger); and Alberta (Edmonton). A chick also was reported as seen near
Indian Head, Newfoundland (Howe).