After the eggs are laid the female often answers this sound with a
long call _okee okee okee_ repeated 8 or 10 times and resembling
the "buckwheat" call of the guinea hen. I believe the female is
sitting on the eggs when she calls this way, for I have found the
nest by locating the position of the sound at night and returning
in the morning. The nest is usually in about the center of the
male's circle of flight.
_Nesting._--As with the woodcock my personal experience with the nesting
of the Wilson snipe has been limited to one nest, found in the Magdalen
Islands on June 18, 1904. The nest was found by watching the bird go to
it in the East Point marshes. It was on dry ground in a little clump of
grass, under some low and rather open bayberry bushes, on the edge of a
boggy arm of the marsh, which extended up into the woods; it was built
up about 2 inches above the ground and was made of short, dead straws
and dead bayberry leaves; it measured 6 inches in outside and 3 inches
in inside diameter. The four eggs which it contained blended perfectly
with their surroundings and although in plain sight, they were not
easily seen. P. B. Philipp (1925), who has found many snipe's nests in
the Magdalen Islands, where he says the species is increasing, writes:
The nesting begins in the last 10 days of May, and is a simple
affair. Usually wet marshy ground is selected, preferably with low
brush and grass with lumps or tussocks rising above the bog water.
The nest is a shallow hollow made in the grass or moss of one of
these lumps, lined with broken bits of dead grass and sometimes
with dead leaves.
William L. Kells (1906) gives a graphic account of finding a nest of the
Wilson snipe in southern Ontario, as follows:
On the 17th of May, 1905, as I was passing through a patch of low
ground overgrown with second growth willows, a rather large-sized
bird flushed from a spot a few feet from where I had jumped over a
neck of water. I did not see the exact place from which the bird
had flown, but the fluttering sound of her wing caught my ear, and
looking ahead I saw the creature, who with outspread tail and
wings, was fluttering on the damp earth, and with her long bill
down in the mud, was giving vent to a series of squeaking sounds. I
knew at once that this bird had flushed from a nest, and that the
object of her actions was to draw my attention from something that
she was very desirous to conceal; but a little research revealed a
nest containing four beautiful eggs. A clump of willows a little
elevated stood about 6 feet from the pool over which the bird had
flown, and midway between the water and the willows, which overhung
it the nest was placed. This was simply a slight depression made by
the bird in the moss and dry grass, and except from its concealed
situation and being a little more expanded, there was no particular
distinction between it and those of the more familiar killdeer
plover and spotted sandpiper, though the lining was probably of a
warmer texture, being of fine dry grass, while the eggs, as in the
case of all the ground nesting waders, were arranged with the small
ends inward.
A Colorado nest is thus described by Robert B. Rockwell (1912):
This nest was located on (and above) the surface of slightly damp
ground at the edge of a good-sized area of very soft, boggy land
formed by the seepage under the dyke of the Big Barr Lake. It was
built in the center of a tussock of grass about 8 inches in length
and was a very neat, well-shaped, and cupped nest composed entirely
of fine dry grass. In construction it was far superior to any shore
bird's nest I have ever seen, being so compactly and strongly put
together that it was possible to remove it from the nesting site
without injury. In general appearance the nest itself is not unlike
certain sparrows' nests.
A nest photographed for me by F. Seymour Hersey, near the mouth of the
Yukon River, Alaska, was in a very wet spot on the border of a marsh; it
was a deep hollow prettily arched over with dry grasses at the base of a
small willow bush.
The Wilson snipe is often a close sitter and sometimes will not leave
the nest until nearly trodden upon. W. J. Brown (1912) tells of a case
where he stroked the bird on the back and had to lift her off the nest
to photograph the eggs.
Mr. Sutton (1923) has published a full and very interesting account of
the breeding habits of the Wilson snipe in Crawford County,
Pennsylvania, where he found several nests in a large, wet swamp among
cattails and grasses; of the first nest he says:
The nest was beautifully situated in the center of a clump of dried
fern stalks--a clump similar to hundreds of just such little
islands near at hand but certainly admirably suited to such a
nesting site, for the eggs were almost completely surrounded at the
short distance of 4 inches by a paling of dead fern stalks. The
eggs were about 9 inches above water at this time, although the
water's depth changed constantly with every rainfall, and five days
later the outer rim of the nest was only 2 inches above water
level. Another was built upon a bit of decayed, sunken log and was
composed entirely of grass stems rather carefully laid together.
The eggs were but a few inches above the surface of the water, and
although grass stems connected the nesting site with other
vegetation the nest was virtually on an island surrounded by water
18 inches deep.
And of still another he says:
This nest was the only snipe nest I have seen which had any real
protection from above. The nest was so placed under a dead willow
branch and some leaning cat-tail stalks that it was really
difficult to see it. The grasses composing the nest had been placed
with care and were somewhat woven about the cat-tail stalks and
other grasses standing near.
_Eggs._--Four eggs is the normal number laid by the snipe; rarely five
eggs are laid. They are about ovate pyriform in shape and slightly
glossy. The ground colors vary from "buckthorn brown" or "Isabella
color" in the darkest types to "deep olive buff" or "dark olive buff" in
the lighter types, which are much commoner. As a rule the eggs are
boldly spotted and blotched, chiefly about the larger end; but often
they are spotted more or less evenly over the entire surface. The
markings are in dark shades of brown, "burnt umber," "bister," or "bone
brown." Often there are splashes or scrawls of brownish black, or black,
at the larger end. "Snuff brown," "vinaceous drab," or "brownish drab"
under spots or blotches often occur. The measurements of 57 eggs average
38.6 by 28.1 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure
=42.4= by 29.5, =36.1= by =29.9=, and 37.5 by =25.5= millimeters.
_Young._--The period of incubation is from 18 to 20 days, and it is
shared by both sexes. Mr. Philipp (1925) says that three birds taken
from the nest were all males. The young leave the nest soon after they
are hatched, and wander about in the long grass, where their concealing
coloration makes them very hard to find. One day, while watching snipe
with J. R. Whitaker on a large marsh near the mouth of Sandy River in
Newfoundland, I saw a snipe several times go down into the grass at a
certain place. Thinking to find a nest there I made a careful search,
and finally found one small downy young; but not another one could I
find in a long hunt. This moist meadow full of grassy hummocks is a
great breeding place for snipe. Here we frequently saw snipe sitting in
trees, bushes, or on telegraph poles, uttering their loud _kep kep kep_
notes of protest. On the girders of a steel bridge that spans the river
at this point Mr. Whitaker has seen as many as five snipe perched at one
time.
Mr. Sutton (1923) describes the behavior of an anxious mother as
follows:
The mother's antics so claimed my attention that I did not keep
close enough watch of the young, and eventually was unable to find
them. I hesitated to tramp about much at the time for fear of
stepping upon them. The mother bird grunted and clucked incessantly
and fell upon her side uttering weird cries, and beating her wings
pitiably. At times she would dart into the air and circle about in
great haste, very close to me and alight in the tall grass, whence
she would run gracefully away until she was again plainly in view.
As she ran about her head was held rather stiffly, and it seemed
that moving it from side to side much caused her inconvenience. In
fact once or twice a definite impression was given that she was
carrying something in her mouth, her head was held at such a
strained angle.
_Plumages._--The young snipe in its dark and richly-colored natal down
is one of the handsomest of the young waders. The upper parts, including
the crown, back, wings, and thighs, are variegated or marbled with
velvety black, "bay," "chestnut," and "amber brown"; the down is mainly
black at the base and brown-tipped; the entire upper parts are spotted
with small round white spots at the tips of some of the down filaments,
producing a beautiful effect of color contrasts and a surprisingly
protective coloration. The head is distinctively marked with a white
spot on the forehead, a black crescent above it and a black triangle
below it, partially concealed by brown tips; there is a distinct black
loral stripe, extending faintly beyond the eye, and a less distinct
black malar stripe; between these two is a conspicuous, large, white,
cheek patch. The chin and upper throat are "light ochraceous buff";
below this on the lower throat is a large sooty-black area, partially
concealed by brown tips, these "tawny" brown tips predominating on the
breast and flanks, and shading off to "pale pinkish cinnamon" on the
belly.
The juvenal plumage appears first on the back and scapulars, then on the
breast and wing coverts. A bird in my collection, about half grown has
the above parts well feathered and the remiges one-third grown; but the
head and rump are still downy and the rectrices have not yet started.
The juvenal plumage is like the adult, except that the buff edgings of
the feathers on the sides of the back and the scapulars, forming the
stripes, are narrower and paler, sometimes almost white on the outer
webs. The body feathers and some of the scapulars and tertials are
molted during the fall, making the young bird almost indistinguishable
from the adult.
Both young birds and adults have a partial prenuptial molt in the late
winter and early spring, involving the contour feathers, wing coverts,
tertials, and the tail. Adults have a complete molt between July and
October. The spring and fall plumages are alike except that the fresh
fall plumage is somewhat more richly colored.
_Food._--The feeding habits of the Wilson snipe are much like those of
the woodcock, except that it often feeds in much wetter places and is
somewhat less nocturnal. Benjamin T. Gault (1902) discovered by
observation that snipe occasionally resort to open mud flats, unmindful
of the cover of darkness and that they feed at all hours of the day. He
describes their method of feeding as follows:
The snipe seemed to select as special feeding grounds the water
line just bordering the flats, where the mud was soft and into
which they delighted in sinking their bills to the fullest depth.
And in withdrawing them they never elevated their necks in true
sandpiper style. On the contrary they kept their heads well
"chucked down," so to speak, and in moving about from place to
place, which they seldom did, however, continue to hold them in the
same fashion.
In some respect their probing methods resembled the rooting of
swine--a simple, up and down forward movement, and if remembered
rightly, without lateral twists or side thrusts of any kind, and
at times exposing fully one-half of the bill.
Whether the Wilson snipe actually do resort to the so-called
"suction" method of procuring their food is a question still
undetermined in my mind. The glasses however brought out the
important information that the probing or feeling movements of the
bill were accompanied every now and then with a guttural or
swallowing motion of the throat, which at times developed into a
decided gulp, as though large morsels of some kind were being
taken down, and this _without the removal of the bill from the
muck_.
Henry W. Henshaw (1875) describes an entirely different method of
feeding; he says:
In migrating, however, especially in Arizona and New Mexico, did it
depend wholly upon its usual methods of obtaining sustenance, it
would fare badly, since, in some sections, there is a total lack of
meadow and marsh, and then it may be seen in broad midday running
along the sandy borders of the streams, and picking up from among
the pebbles and _débris_ any tidbits in the shape of insects it can
find. It retains, however, even under these adverse conditions, its
habit of squatting, and, when approached closely I have seen it
lower its body close to the ground, shrink as it were into as
little space as possible, and so remain till I was within a few
feet, when it would get up with its well known _scaip_, _scaip_,
and, following the turns and sinuosities of the streams, endeavor
to find some little covered nook into which it could drop out of
sight.
M. P. Skinner watched a snipe feeding on the muddy shore of a pond in
the Yellowstone Valley; he says in his notes:
He was about 6 inches from shore and at each stroke his bill went
in up to his eyes. The strokes were rapid like those of a
woodpecker. He covered a space perhaps 4 inches wide and 15 feet
long in an hour, getting something every half dozen strokes or so.
He was very busy there for two hours at least.
Earthworms probably constitute the principal food of the Wilson snipe,
but it also eats cutworms, wireworms, leaches, grasshoppers, locusts,
beetles, mosquitoes, other insects and their larvae, and some seeds of
marsh plants.
_Behavior._--Snipe are notorious for their erratic flight and they
often, probably usually, do dodge and zigzag when they first flush in
alarm, but not always; I have seen them fly away as steadily as any
other shore bird. Snipe usually lie closely crouched on the ground
trusting to their excellent protective coloration, and do not flush
until nearly trodden upon; so that in their hurry to get away their
flight is erratic. When well under way their flight is steady and swift
with the occasional turnings common to all shore birds. When first
flushed they generally fly low, but when flying from one part of a marsh
to another, or when migrating, they fly very high. When alighting they
pitch down suddenly from a great height and then flutter down slowly
into the grass or drop straight down with wings elevated and bill
pointing upwards. They are less gregarious than other waders; they
usually flush singly, but often within a few yards of each other if
plentiful. They are seldom seen in flocks. John T. Nichols tells me in
his notes of a flock of seven which he saw on Long Island:
They were flying high from the east to west, the regular southward
lane for shore birds, and bunched up like dowitchers or yellow-legs
as they circled over the marsh, then slanted down obliquely (as
these other birds would have done) to alight on a piece of dead
stubble. By the time I reached them they had scattered somewhat;
four (scattered) and three (bunched) flushed from this spot in
close succession, and went off into the southwest. The migration of
the snipe may be mostly by night; it certainly flies to some extent
along the coast by day.
And Harry S. Swarth (1922) says:
While the usual manner of occurrence was for a single bird to be
flushed, or perhaps two or three within a few square yards, there
were times when snipe were noted in small flocks, almost like
sandpipers in their actions. Groups of 10 or 12 individuals were
seen circling about through the air in close formation and wheeling
or turning in perfect unison. At such times almost the only thing
to betray the identity of the birds was the call note, uttered at
frequent intervals. At no time, however, did birds flushed from the
ground depart in flock formation.
On the ground the snipe moves about deliberately with bill pointing
downwards. If alarmed it squats for concealment before jumping into
flight when hard pressed; the longitudinal stripes on its back and head
so closely resemble prostrate stems of dead grass that the bird is
difficult to distinguish. Mr. Skinner "saw one alight and run rapidly
along the ground for 20 feet, erect with head high, like a running bob
white." C. J. Pennock watched one standing on a bare mud flat with "a
continued up and down rhythmic movement of the entire body." E. H.
Forbush (1925) writes:
The snipe can swim and dive and uses both wings and feet under
water in its efforts to escape. Mr. Will H. Parsons writes that he
shot one that fell into a little clear streamlet where later he
found it dead, under water, grasping a rootlet in its bill. Later,
on the Scioto River, as he relates, he shot another which fell into
the river, and, turning, swam back toward the shore. On seeing him
approach it dived, and he saw it grasp a weed with its bill. Wading
in he secured the bird "stone dead."
_Voice._--Eliminating the winnowing flight notes, which are
unquestionably instrumental, the Wilson snipe has a variety of vocal
notes. The one most often heard is the familiar _scaipe_ note, a note of
alarm and warning, given as the bird rises in hurried flight. This note
has been variously expressed in writing, perhaps best by the word
"escape", which the snipe often does, unless the sportsman is smart
enough to say "no you don't," and prove it. "On the breeding grounds we
frequently hear its loud notes of protest, uttered while it is flying
about or perched on some tree or post; these are in the form of a loud
clear whistle, like _wheat wheat wheat wheat_ or more subdued in tone
like _whuck whuck whuck whuck_; they are always rapidly uttered and
usually consist of four or five notes. E. W. Nelson (1887) refers to a
similar note heard on the breeding grounds, as _yak yak yak yak_ in
quick, energetic, explosive syllables. At the time when the bird is
uttering its note, it flies along within a short distance of the ground
with a peculiar jerky movement of the body and wings as every note is
uttered."
Mr. Nichols says in his notes:
When a bird gets up almost from underfoot, the _scape_ is at times
replaced by a series of short, hurried notes of similar character.
It is interesting to find in the Wilson's snipe this imperfect
differentiation of a note uttered at the moment of taking wing from
one uttered when in or approaching full flight--as it is a
condition slightly different from the calls of other more social
shore birds which trust comparatively little to concealment, take
wing while danger is still at a distance with hurried minor notes,
so soft as to readily escape notice, and have each a loud
diagnostic flight call of much service in their identification.
The _scape_ of the snipe has sufficient resemblance to the
woodcock's _peent_, which forms a part of the nuptial performance
of that species, to leave little doubt that the two are homologous
(that is, of the same derivation), if we assume snipe and woodcock
to be related. It is, however, more analogous (that is, of
corresponding place or purpose) with the wing twitter of the
woodcock. Its harsh quality is in keeping with the voices of
unrelated denisons of marsh and swamp, herons, rails, frogs, etc.,
and the discords of close-by bog sounds continually in its ears.
The quality of the snipe's call contrasts sharply with the
peculiarly clear, mellow whistle of the black-breasted plover, for
instance, and ringing calls of species of similar habit, with
carrying power over the open distances of their haunts. The
connecting series of limicoline voices, through the reedy calls of
such marsh-loving birds as the pectoral sandpiper, leaves little
doubt that there is a correlation between habitat and quality of
voice.
In some notes from Alaska, he writes:
July 17, on the slope of a low, gentle, tundra hill a little way
back from the shore, ahead of me a snipe fluttered up a short
distance, then down; up, then down; accompanying this performance
with _chup chup chup chup chup chew chew chew chew chew_. It
alighted in a comparatively open space with a couple of small bog
holes of water, surrounded with a circle of scrub willows, and here
I presently flushed it again. It rose with a _chape_ note, more
muffled and reedy than the ordinary Wilson snipe _scape_, and,
curving downwind, rose higher, attaining considerable elevation in
the distance, as I followed it with my glass. It now began to
zigzag up and down, maintaining approximately its position in the
sky to leeward. Meanwhile I heard an unfamiliar more or less
whistled _peep-er-weep_ once or twice, and an intermittent
winnowing sound, _wish wish wish wish wish_, etc. Being uncertain
as to whether these sounds came from the distant snipe, or from
some other bird closer at hand in the air, I took my glasses off
the former to look about me, and as I feared I should do, lost
track of it in the sky. Presently the winnowing ceased and I began
to hear a continuous harsh _cuta-cuta-cuta-cuta_ from over the brow
of the hill, which turned out to be a snipe, presumably the same
one which had returned, standing on top of the only stake
thereabouts.
_Field marks._--The Wilson snipe should be easily recognized by its long
bill, its erratic flight, its conspicuous stripes, and the rufous near
the end of its tail. The harsh _scaipe_ note is diagnostic. It might be
confused with the dowitcher, but the flight, notes, and usual haunts of
the latter are different. I have often thought that the pectoral
sandpiper resembles the snipe, as it rises from the grass, but it lacks
the long bill, and is not so conspicuously striped on the back.
_Fall._--The fall migration of snipe is dependent on the weather, the
first early frosts are apt to start them along; when the brilliant red
leaves of the swamp maples add their touch of color to the marshes, and
when the vegetation in the meadows begins to take on the rich hues of
autumn, then we may look for the coming of the snipe. They are by no
means confined to fresh-water marshes at this season. I have
occasionally flushed a Wilson snipe on the salt marshes of Cape Cod, and
have frequently found them on the dry grassy shores of islands in inland
ponds.
Wells W. Cooke (1914) says:
They seem reluctant to return south in fall, even though they can
have no appreciation of the constant persecution which awaits them
during the six months' sojourn in their winter home. A few migrants
appear in the northern part of the United States in early
September, and, moving slowly southward, reach the southern part of
the Gulf States shortly after the middle of October. Soon the main
body of the birds follows, and all normally keep south of the line
of frozen ground. Yet every winter some laggards remain much
farther north, feeding about springs or streams. A few can usually
be found on Cape Cod, Mass., while in the Rocky Mountains, near
Sweetwater Lake, Colorado, the presence of warm springs has enabled
snipe to remain throughout an entire winter, though the air
temperature fell to 30° F. below zero.
Mr. Brewster (1906) writes:
During exceptionally wet autumns snipe occasionally resort in large
numbers to the highly cultivated truck farms of Arlington and
Belmont. An interesting instance of this happened in September,
1875, when a flight, larger than any that I have known to occur in
the Cambridge region before or since, settled in some water-soaked
fields covered with crops of corn, potatoes, cabbages, etc., on the
Hittinger farm, Belmont. Learning of the presence of these birds
about a week after their arrival, I visited the place early the
next morning, but all save 10 or a dozen of them had departed,
owing no doubt, to the fact that there had been a hard frost during
the preceding night. The borings and other signs which they had
left convinced me, however, that the statement made to me at the
time by Mr. Jacob Hittinger, to the effect that he had started
_four or five hundred snipe_ there only the day before, was
probably not an exaggeration of the truth.