Carolina, Sea Islands, April 23; North Carolina, Fort Macon, May 17, and
Cape Hatteras, May 20; Virginia, Smiths Island, May 22, and Cobb Island,
June 6; New Jersey, Cape May, June 13; New York, New York City, May 30,
Geneva, June 3, and Sing Sing, June 5; Connecticut, Fairfield, May 31;
Massachusetts, Harvard, June 4, Dennis, June 7, and Monomoy Island, June
27; Maine, Scarboro, May 30; Quebec, Quebec City, May 27, and Montreal,
June 1; Kentucky, Bowling Green, May 22; Illinois, Waukegan, May 24, and
Chicago, May 26; Ohio, Painesville, May 28, and Youngstown, June 2;
Michigan, Detroit, May 28; Ontario, Point Pelee, June 1, Toronto, June
2, and Brighton, June 19; Iowa, Emmetsburg, May 25; Wisconsin, Madison,
May 23; Minnesota, Walker, June 10; Texas, Point Isabel, May 3, and
Corpus Christi, May 22; eastern Nebraska, Lincoln, May 21; South Dakota,
Yankton, June 1; Manitoba, Lake Winnipeg, June 8, Shoal Lake, June 8,
and Lake Manitoba, June 12; Saskatchewan, Hay Lake, June 9, and Quill
Lake, June 10; Colorado, Denver, May 31; California, Santa Barbara, May
26; San Nicholas Island, May 30, Hyperion, May 31, and Redondo, June 4;
and Washington, Quillayute Needles, May 30.
_Fall migration._--Early dates of arrival in the fall are: British
Columbia, Okanagan Landing, July 25, and Comox, August 15; Washington,
Dungeness Spit, August 18, Clallam Bay, August 22, and Tacoma, August
23; California, Santa Barbara, July 29; Alberta, Strathmore, July 31;
Montana, Flathead Lake, August 29; Saskatchewan, Big Stick Lake, July
19; Manitoba, Victoria Beach, July 11, Shoal Lake, August 8, and Oak
Lake, August 17; South Dakota, Pine Ridge Reservation, July 12; eastern
Nebraska, Lincoln, August 22; Texas, Tivoli, August 3, Brownsville,
August 15, and Padre Island, August 21; Ontario, Toronto, July 16, and
Ottawa, August 14; Michigan, Charity Island, July 19; Ohio, Lakeside,
July 11, Cedar Point, July 21, and Painesville, July 25; Indiana,
Millers, August 1; Illinois, Chicago, July 24; Massachusetts, Monomoy
Island, July 1, Marthas Vineyard, July 8, and Dennis, July 12; New York,
Brooklyn, July 6, Montauk Point, July 20, and Rochester, July 23; New
Jersey, Cape May, July 20; Pennsylvania, Erie, July 27; Virginia,
Chincoteague, August 1; North Carolina, Church's Island, July 29; South
Carolina, Mount Pleasant, July 14; Florida, Bradentown, July 12,
Pensacola, July 19, Fernandina, July 21, and Daytona Beach, July 28;
Jamaica, Spanishtown, August 20; and Lesser Antilles, St. Croix,
September 13.
Late dates of fall departure are: Alaska, Demarcation Point, August 30;
Mackenzie, Fort Franklin, September 16; Alberta, Beaverhill Lake,
November 8; Colorado, Loveland, September 30, and Pueblo, October 1;
Manitoba, Margaret, October 20, and Lake Manitoba, November 7; North
Dakota, Grafton, September 14; Nebraska, Lincoln, October 4; Wisconsin,
Lake Mills, October 3; Iowa, Burlington, October 15, and National,
October 29; Ontario, Kingston, October 15, Point Pelee, October 16, and
Ottawa, October 22; Michigan, Ann Arbor, October 26, Portage Lake,
November 5, and Forestville, November 24; Ohio, Cedar Point, October 21,
Lakeside, October 29, and Columbus, November 7; Illinois, LaGrange,
October 29, and Chicago, November 3; Franklin, Bay of Mercy, August 30;
Prince Edward Island, North River, October 30; Quebec, Quebec City,
November 12; and Maine, Portland, November 25.
_Casual records._--In spite of its wide distribution the sanderling is
not frequently detected outside of its normal range. Although but a
short distance from the coast, there are only five records for the
vicinity of Washington, D. C. (September, 1874, October 24, 1885,
September 22, 1894, September 26-30, 1898, and September 27, 1898). It
has been taken once in Kansas (Lawrence, October 7, 1874). There also is
a record for the Hawaiian Islands (Hauai in October, 1900) and one in
Haiti (Gaspar Hernandez, March 4, 1916).
_Egg dates._--Greenland: six records, June 29 to July 7. Grinnell Land:
one record, June 24. Arctic Canada: two records, June 18 and 29.
LIMOSA FEDOA (Linnaeus)
MARBLED GODWIT
HABITS
Next to the long-billed curlew and the oyster catchers, this is the
largest of our shore birds. For that reason and for other reasons it is
rapidly disappearing, and before many years it may join the ranks of
those that are gone but not forgotten. Although shy at times, it is
often foolishly tame and is then easily slaughtered. It is large enough
to appeal to the sportsman as legitimate game and it makes a plump and
toothsome morsel for the table. But, worst of all, its breeding grounds
on the prairies and meadows of the central plains are becoming more and
more restricted by the encroachments of agriculture; the wide-open
solitudes will soon be only memories of the past.
In Audubon's (1840) time this was an abundant species and much more
widely distributed than it is to-day. He writes:
On the 31st of May, 1832, I saw an immense number of these birds on
an extensive mud bar bordering one of the Keys of Florida, about 6
miles south of Cape Sable. When I landed with my party the whole,
amounting to some
thousands, collected in the manner mentioned above. Four or five
guns were fired at once, and the slaughter was such that I was
quite satisfied with the number obtained, both for specimens and
for food. For this reason we refrained from firing at them again,
although the temptation was at times great, as they flew over and
wheeled round us for awhile, until at length they alighted at some
distance and began to feed.
The marbled godwit is a rare bird in Florida to-day; I saw only one
during the five months of my last winter on the west coast. It was
formerly abundant as a migrant on the Atlantic coast from New England
southward, where now it is merely a straggler. It is still fairly common
on the Pacific coast, where probably most of the birds now go. Even in
Minnesota, close to its present breeding grounds, it has decreased
enormously. Dr. Thomas S. Roberts (1919) writes:
When the writer, in company with Franklin Benner, went to Grant and
Traverse Counties in June, 1879, to study the wild life of that
region, the great marbled godwit was so abundant, so constant and
insistent in its attentions to the traveler on the prairie, and so
noisy that it became at times an actual nuisance. They were
continually hovering about the team, perfectly fearless and nearly
deafening us with their loud, harsh cries--"go-wit, go-wit." On
getting out of the wagon to search for their nests, the birds
became fairly frantic until we were fain to stop our ears to shut
out the din. Now and then the birds would all disappear and peace
would ensue for a brief period, but they had only retired to muster
their forces anew, for shortly a great company would bear down upon
us, flying low over the prairie, and spread out in wide array, all
the birds silent, until, when almost upon us, they swerved suddenly
upward over our heads and broke out again in a wild, discordant
clamor. Once I counted 50 birds in one of these charging companies.
This, to us, novel experience, went on from day to day in various
places and has left a vivid impression that can never be effaced.
Happenings of this sort have long since become things of the past
in Minnesota. The godwits gradually disappeared before conditions
associated with the advance of man into their domain until now it
is doubtful that more than an occasional pair remains to nest in
some remote part of the State.
The godwits have always been favorites with me and in my early days I
had always longed to see them. The opportunity came at last when I
visited North Dakota in 1901. We had been collecting for several days in
some extensive sloughs bordering a large lake in Steele County, which we
found exceedingly rich in bird life, when on June 12 I first made the
acquaintance of this magnificent wader. The beautiful Wilson's
phalaropes were flitting about among the tussocks, and it was while
hunting for their nests that we noticed, among the numerous noisy
killdeers and western willets flying over us, a strange hoarse note,
strikingly different from either, as a large brown bird flew past, which
we recognized as a godwit. All doubts were soon dispelled by collecting
my first specimen of a species I had often longed to see, and I could
not help pausing to examine and admire the beautiful markings of its
richly colored wings. We saw only four of these birds that day, but on
the following day they became more abundant. There were about 20 of them
flying about over the meadows, showing considerable concern at our
presence, constantly uttering their peculiar cries, and showing so
little regard for their own safety that we were led to infer that they
were breeding or intending to breed in that vicinity. We spent some time
looking for their nests, but as we knew practically nothing about their
nesting habits at that time, we were not successful in locating any
nests.
_Spring._--I can not find that the marbled godwit was ever common on the
Atlantic coast north of Florida in the spring. It still migrates
northward along the Pacific coast, mainly in April; D. E. Brown has seen
it at Gray's Harbor, Washington, as early as April 9. The main migration
route seems to be up the Mississippi Valley, mainly in April; it has
been recorded in southern Saskatchewan as early as April 16.
_Nesting._--In southwestern Saskatchewan, in 1905 and 1906, I became
better acquainted with the marbled godwit on its breeding grounds. Along
the lower courses of the streams, near the lakes, but sometimes
extending for a mile or more back from the lake, are usually found
broad, flat, alluvial plains, low enough to be flooded during periods of
high water. These plains are more or less moist at all times, are
exceedingly level, and are covered with short, thick grass only a few
inches high. Such spots are the chosen breeding grounds of the marbled
godwit, and, so far as our experience goes, the nests of this species
are invariably placed on these grassy plains or meadows.
The godwit makes no attempt at concealment, the eggs being deposited in
plain sight in a slight hollow in the short grass. We found, in all,
four nests of this species with eggs, had two sets of eggs brought to us
by ranchmen, and found two broods of young. The first nest was
discovered on May 29, 1905. We had been hunting the shores of a large
alkaline lake, where a colony of avocets were breeding on the mud flats
near the outlet of a deep, sluggish stream, and it was while following
along the banks of this stream, as it wound its devious course down
through a series of broad, flat meadows, that I flushed a godwit out of
the short grass only a few yards from the stream and about 100 yards
from the lake. On investigation I found that she had flown from her
nest, merely a slight hollow in the grass lined with dry grass, which
had, apparently, been simply trodden down where it grew, without the
addition of any new material brought in by the birds. Only two eggs had
been laid, so we marked the spot for future reference and retired. On
June 5 this nest was photographed, and the four eggs which it then
contained were collected.
While driving across a low, wet meadow, toward a reedy lake, on June 8,
1905, and when about 200 yards from the lake, we were surprised to see
a marbled godwit flutter out from directly under the horse, which was
trotting along at a leisurely pace. We stopped as soon as possible and
found that we had driven directly over its nest, which barely escaped
destruction, for it lay between the wheel ruts and the horse's
footprints, one of which was within a few inches of it. The nest was in
every way similar to the first one, the bird having beaten down the
short grass to form a slight hollow in which the four handsome eggs had
been laid in plain sight.
On June 9, 1906, we visited the locality where the first nest was found,
and I enjoyed a most interesting experience with an unusually tame
individual of this normally shy species. While walking across the flat
meadow near the creek, I happened to see a marbled godwit crouching on
her nest beside a pile of horse droppings. She was conspicuous enough in
spite of her protective coloration, for the nest was entirely devoid of
concealment in the short grass. Though we stood within 10 feet of her,
she showed no signs of flying away, which suggested the possibility of
photographing her. My camera was half a mile away in our wagon, but I
soon returned with it and began operations at a distance of 15 feet,
setting up the camera on the tripod and focussing carefully. I moved up
cautiously to within 10 feet and took another picture, repeating the
performance again within 5 feet. She still sat like a rock, and I made
bold to move still closer, spreading the legs of the tripod on either
side of her and placing the camera within 3 feet of her; I hardly dared
to breathe, moving very slowly as I used the focussing cloth, and
changed my plate holders most cautiously; but she never offered to move
and showed not the slightest signs of fear, while I exposed all the
plates I had with me, photographing her from both sides and placing the
lens within 2 feet of her. She sat there patiently, panting in the hot
sun, apparently distressed by the heat, perhaps partially dazed by it,
and much annoyed by the ants which were constantly crawling into her
eyes and half open bill, causing her to wink or shake her head
occasionally. I reached down carefully and stroked her on the back, but
still she did not stir, and I was finally obliged to lift her off the
nest in order to photograph the eggs.
Two nests found by Gerard A. Abbott (1919) in Benson County, North
Dakota, were evidently better concealed than the nests we found. He
writes:
I was certainly surprised to discover my first godwit's nest with
the parent crouching beneath a little screen of woven grass blades
on four heavily blotched eggs. Her general contour and the
situation and design of the nest was suggestive of many king rails
whose nests I have found, after noticing how the grass blades were
woven together canopy like to shield the bird and her treasures.
About a mile from this nest and screened on one side by willow
sprouts sat another tame godwit. This time the grassy hollow held
five boldly marked eggs. Incubation was one-half completed and the
date was June 8. These five eggs bear a general resemblance to each
other and I believe they are all the product of the same bird.
_Eggs._--The marbled godwit lays four eggs regularly, very rarely three
and still more rarely five. The eggs are ovate or ovate pyriform in
shape, with a slight gloss. The ground colors usually run from "pale
olive buff" to "deep olive buff," in the greener types from "dark olive
buff" to "ecru olive," and in the brownest types to "Isabella color."
They are more or less sparingly and irregularly marked with small
rounded spots, and with irregular, rarely elongated blotches; these are
often thicker at the larger end, but seldom confluent. The markings are
usually much more conspicuous than in other godwit's eggs, but they are
in dull browns, such as "Saccardo's umber," "warm sepia," and "bister."
The underlying spots and blotches range in color from "pallid brownish
drab" to "deep brownish drab." Some of the greenish types are only
faintly spotted with "light brownish olive." One very handsome egg has a
"pale olive buff" ground color, conspicuously splashed and blotched with
"pale Quaker drab," overlaid with a few small blotches and scrawls of
"Saccardo's umber." The measurements of 64 eggs average 57 by 39.6
millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure =61= by 40.5,
59.5 by =42.5=, =51= by 38.5, and 53.7 by =37.7= millimeters.
_Young._--I have no data on the period of incubation and do not know
whether both sexes incubate or not. The only incubating bird I collected
was a female. Though we looked diligently for the young we did not
succeed in finding any until June 27, 1906. We were driving across some
extensive wet meadows, ideal breeding grounds for marbled godwits, when
we saw a godwit, about a hundred yards ahead of us, leading two of its
young across a shallow grassy pool; we drove toward them as fast as we
could, but as we drew near the old bird took wing and the young
separated, moving off into the grass in opposite directions. They had
evidently been well schooled in the art of hiding and were well fitted
by their protective coloring to escape notice, for, though we secured
one of them readily enough while it was still running, the other
disappeared entirely right before our eyes and within 10 yards of us.
Its disappearance seemed almost miraculous, for there was practically
nothing there to conceal it, as the grass was quite short, and there
were no shrubs or herbaceous plants of any kind in the vicinity. We
searched the whole locality carefully and thoroughly, but in vain. The
youngster may have been crouching flat on the ground, relying on its
resemblance to its surroundings, or it may have taken advantage of some
slight inequalities in the ground and skulked away farther than we
realized. Later in the day we found another pair of godwits, in a
similar locality, with two young, one of which we secured. The young
were in the downy stage, and apparently not over a week old. They showed
unmistakable godwit characters, particularly in the shape of the head
and bill, and the long legs and neck.
_Plumages._--The downy young marbled godwit is in dull colors. The upper
parts, including the posterior half of the crown, back rump, and wings
are "bone brown" or "light seal brown," variegated on the back and rump
with pale buff or grayish-white. The under parts, including the
forehead, sides of the head, and neck, are "pinkish-buff," deepest on
the neck and flanks, almost white on the belly and head and pure white
on the chin and cheeks. There is a narrow loral stripe, extending not
quite to the eye, a spot behind the ear, and a short stripe in the
middle of the lower forehead of blackish-brown. The shape of the head
and bill is characteristic of the species.
The cinnamon juvenal plumage begins to appear on the flanks at an early
stage and its development is rapid. Before the end of July the young
bird is fully fledged and able to fly. The fresh juvenal plumage is much
like that of the adult in winter; but the throat and the sides of the
head and neck are plain cinnamon without dusky streaks; the feathers of
the back and scapulars are more broadly edged or notched, with brighter
cinnamon; the greater and median wing coverts are much more broadly
bordered with or more extensively cinnamon; the greater coverts are
almost clear cinnamon, with very few dusky markings; and the tail is
more broadly barred with dusky.
Apparently only a very limited amount of molt takes place during the
first year. I have seen birds in juvenal or first winter plumage in
November, January, and May, though the last two may be exceptional
cases. Perhaps some young birds assume the adult plumage at the first
prenuptial molt, but certainly not later than the first postnuptial.
More material is necessary to settle this point.
Adults have a complete postnuptial molt beginning in July and lasting
well into the fall. This produces the winter plumage in which the breast
is immaculate cinnamon and there is little, if any, barring on the
flanks. At the prenuptial molt in February and March the body plumage,
or most of it, and the tail are molted.
_Food._--Doctor Roberts (1919) says of the feeding habits of the marbled
godwit:
With their long, up-curved bills they probe the shallow water of
sloughs and lake shores for aquatic insects and mollusks and also
spend much of their time on meadows and low-lying prairies, where
they devour grasshoppers and other insects of many kinds. These big
birds, when they were as abundant as they once were, must have been
an important factor in keeping in check the dangerous insect hordes
of our State. But they, with others of their kind, are gone and man
is left to fight conditions as he must with agencies of his own
devising, less efficient, perhaps, than those provided by nature.
Audubon (1840) says: "While feeding on the banks, it appears to search
for food between and under the oysters with singular care, at times
pushing the bill sidewise into the soft mud beneath the shells." The
sand beaches of California are favorite feeding grounds, where I have
seen it associated with the long-billed curlew. I was interested to see
with what dexterity these long-billed birds could pick up a small
mollusk and swallow it; I could plainly see the small object gradually
travel up the long bill and into the mouth of the bird. Other observers
have recorded in the food of this godwit snails, crustaceans, insects
and their larvae, worms, and leeches.
_Behavior._--The flight of the marbled godwit is strong, rather swift
and direct; the head is usually drawn in somewhat, the bill pointed
straight forward, and the feet stretched out behind. Audubon (1840)
says: "When flying to a considerable distance, or migrating, they
usually proceed in extended lines, presenting an irregular front, which
rarely preserves its continuity for any length of time, but undulates
and breaks as the birds advance." Mrs. Florence M. Bailey (1916) writes:
In flight they often made a close flock, calling _queep, queep,
queep, queep, queep_, affording a beautiful sight as the light
struck them and warmed up the cinnamon wings that make such a good
recognition mark. They soared down handsomely, showing the
cinnamon, and as they alighted held their wings straight over their
backs for a moment, the black shoulder straps showing in strong
contrast to the warm cinnamon.
Though the flocks were generally most amicable, occasionally one
or two of their number would get to scrapping. Two got hold of
each other's bills one day and held on, one or both crying
lustily. In a group another day two came to blows, first just
opening their bills at each other and talking argumentatively.
Later one of them made passes at the other till the harried bird
lifted his wings as if meditating escape, and finally when a pass
was made at his long unprotected legs, flew away. When one was
teased by a companion it often cried complainingly, _go-way,
go-way, go-way, go-way_.
It was amusing to watch the birds feed. As a wave rolled up,
combed over and broke, the white foam would chase them in, and as
they ran before it, if it came on too fast, they would pick
themselves up, open their wings till the cinnamon showed, and
scoot in like excited children. But the instant the water began to
recede they would right about face and trot back with it,
splashing it up so that you could see it glisten. As they went
their long bills--in the low afternoon sun strikingly coral red
except for the black tip--were shoved ahead of them, feeding along
through the wet sand, the light glinting from them; and if
anything good was discovered deeper, the hunters would stop to
probe, sometimes plunging the bill in up to the hilt, on rare
occasions when the tidbit proved out of reach, actually crowding
their heads down into the sand.
Like all of the shore birds, the marbled godwit is exceedingly
demonstrative on its breeding grounds, flying out to meet the intruder
as soon as he appears, making fully as much fuss at a distance from its
nest as near it, and giving no clue as to its exact location. The cries
of one pair of birds often attract others, and I have seen as many as
eighteen birds flying about at one time in an especially favorable
locality. It shows no signs of fear at such times, often alighting on
the ground within ten or fifteen yards, standing for an instant with its
beautifully marbled wings poised above it, a perfect picture of parental
solicitude. Even while they were feeding on the shores of the lakes we
could frequently walk up to within a few yards of them.
Hamilton M. Laing (1913), after describing how a snipe escaped from a
duck hawk by diving into some rushes along a creek, tells of a similar
trick played by a godwit, as follows: