A redshank rises up into the air, and there flies in a series of

switchbacks. Just before the bottom of each switchback he gave very

quick wing flaps, almost fluttering, one would call it, this made

him start up again. He went on fluttering or flapping till he was

about halfway up and for the rest of the upstroke of the switchback

he soared up with the impetus he had gained. His wings now were set

back and down; his neck and head thrown up in a beautiful proud

attitude; his tail spread out. Then he turned the angle of his

wings and glided down, still in the same attitude.

While flying thus he gives vent to what one may call a song--a series of

pure, sweet single notes, never uttered on other occasions. The flight

may be quite short, or may go on for several minutes. W. Farren (1910)

writing of the same love-flight describes the song as "_Dhu-lee,

dhu-lee, du-lee, du-lee, du-le, dle-dle-dle-dle_," the latter part

becoming shorted and quicker as it nears the end, when it may be

continued to a vanishing point.

It should be noted that the nightjar-like note already referred to is

only used on the second stage of the courtship, yet it was audible at

all hours of the day and night from which Huxley deduced that, as only a

fraction of the courtships were consummated and the total number of

birds did not exceed 50, each bird must pair several times a day.

The contests between the males seem to be usually of a formal character,

but Selous (1906) describes one case where two birds fought with

determination, jumping at one another and each attempting to seize the

mandibles of the other with its own.

_Nesting._--The Iceland redshank has very similar habits to the ordinary

European bird and haunts the swamps and morasses near the sea as well as

the neighborhood of the larger lakes inland during the breeding season.

Here it nests in colonies, varying in number from five or six to about

twenty pairs. The nests are usually some distance apart, and generally

well concealed, the sitting bird choosing a hollow where the vegetation

grows thickest. In the British Isles the common redshank has greatly

increased its breeding range during the last 25 years and has gradually

made its way inland up the river valleys to many districts where it was

previously quite unknown. Here it shares its breeding grounds with the

lapwing (_Vanellus vanellus_), but the nest is not exposed like that of

the latter but neatly hidden at the foot of some tall wisp of dead

grass. The bird will even twist the dead grasses together to get the

required protection and some nests are so artfully hidden that they can

only be found by accidentally flushing the bird. In an East Anglian

marsh a bird got up almost at my feet. There was a small flattened

tussock of grass with long dead stalks growing up round it, but not a

sign of nest or eggs, yet I felt certain that the bird had been

incubating. On probing the solid-looking green tussock my fingers

slipped into a hollow space beneath, where the four eggs were lying. The

bird had been sitting in a neat cup of grass, completely roofed in

above, and had slipped out by parting the growing grass at the side,

which had closed up again. Exceptionally nests may be found, especially

near the coast, quite exposed, but as a rule the bird takes advantage of

every bit of cover available. On the level patches of short rich grass

in the Dutch polders many pairs breed, and I have seen sixteen nests in

a day. Narrow drains only a few inches wide are cut by the farmers in

the turf, and here the grass is not cropped quite so close at the sides,

so even under these disadvantageous conditions the redshanks avoid the

open flats and prefer the partial concealment of the drain sides. In the

great mud flats of the Marisma of the River Guadalquiver in South Spain,

too, there is little in the way of cover, but the nests are never so

exposed as those of the stilt or avocet. But wherever found, whether in

Iceland, Holland, or Spain, there are the excited parents flying round

and round with incessant and clamorous cries of _tu-e-too, tu-e-too_,

alarming all the other breeding species and generally the first to give

warning of danger.

The nest is substantially made of grasses and hollowed out by the

pressure of the bird's breast and little in the way of extraneous matter

is used, though occasionally, especially in open sites, quite a

substantial cup may be built of stalks, grasses, bits of heath, moss,

etc.

_Eggs._--Normally four, rarely five, but in second or third layings

three are not uncommon, and cases of six, seven, and eight eggs in a

nest have been recorded, probably due to two hens laying together,

though in some instances they may be due to a full clutch being laid

after an interruption by snow or floods. The eggs are pyriform in shape

and when large series are examined, show considerable variation, the

ground color ranging from creamy white, stone color, to pale greenish

gray or light purplish red and warm reddish ochreous. They are freely

blotched and spotted with purple brown or rich red brown and ashy shell

marks; sometimes a dark hair streak at the big end. In some eggs the

blotches are very large, but others are more uniformly marked with small

spots. In a series they show much richer and redder coloring than

_Vanellus_, _Himantopus_, or _Recurvirostra_, and lack the distinctive

green ground of _Tringa erythropus_. The measurements of 36 eggs from

Iceland average 45.39 by 31.75 millimeters; the eggs showing the four

extremes measure 49 by 32.4, 46.5 by =33.1=, =42.3= by 31.3, and =43.7=

by =30.5= millimeters. The measurements of 100 British eggs average

44.56 by 31.56 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure

=48.4= by 32.4, 46.5 by =33.1=, and =41.5= by =28.5= millimeters. It

would be seen from the above figures that Icelandic eggs (like the

birds) are slightly larger than British specimens. The incubation period

lasts 23 to 25 days and is apparently chiefly undertaken by the female,

but J. Cunningham has shot the male from the eggs.

_Plumages._--The molts and plumages are fully described in "A Practical

Handbook of British Birds," edited by H. F. Witherby (1920), to which

the reader is referred.

_Food._--The redshank is a shore feeder to a great extent for the autumn

months and often a riverside and marsh harvester in spring and summer.

In the latter season its food consists chiefly of insects and their

larvae, including Coleoptera (_Hyphidrus_, _Onthophagus_, etc.),

Diptera, especially Tipulidae; also the larvae of Ephemeridae and

Phryganeidae, spiders, worms (_Lumbrici_); and it is said small frogs

and berries are also taken. In autumn crustacea (including Gammaridae,

shrimps, and small crabs) are taken; also Mollusca (_Cardium_) and

smaller marine univalves and annelids in addition to insect food when

procurable; and small fish have been found in the stomach by Professor

Patten.

_Behavior._--The restless and wary nature of this very numerous species

renders it very unpopular with the shore shooters, as its loud yelping

cry of _Took took_ alarms every bird within earshot. As they are poor

eating and do not pay for shooting, they frequently escape, although a

good many are shot. During the breeding season it is quite a common

sight to see a redshank perched on a post, or tripping lightly along a

rail with upraised wings, and it will at times even settle on a tree.

_Fall._--As soon as the young are able to fly (for only one brood is

reared in the season) the redshanks form into family parties or small

flocks and work their way down the valleys toward the shore. On the

British coasts large reinforcements arrive from the continent, but it is

not possible to tell whether the birds which remain throughout the

winter are visitors from the north or locally bred birds. In Iceland

they leave about the end of September or early in October, and on the

British coasts are most numerous from mid-July to mid-November.

_Winter._--The main winter quarters of this species are in Africa, but

it is of scarce occurrence in the south; and also in southwestern Asia;

farther east in Asia it is replaced by other races, which winter in

India, the Malay Peninsula, and the islands of Malaysia.

DISTRIBUTION

_Breeding range._--In Iceland and the Faeroes the breeding race is _T.

totanus robustus_. The typical race (_T. totanus totanus_) breeds in

suitable localities throughout the British Isles and the Continent of

Europe, north to latitude 71° in Norway, rare in North Finland, and

scarce in Russian Lapland, while it is absent from the islands off the

North Russian coast and reaches about latitude 58° N. in the Urals and

56-1/2° in West Siberia. Southward its range extends to Andalusia,

northern Italy, Sardinia, and in small numbers to Greece, as well as at

over 6,000 feet in the Caucasus. Probably it also nests in Morocco,

though this has not yet been proved, and perhaps also in Tunisia, while

in West Asia it breeds in Turkestan. East Asiatic birds apparently

belong to another race or races.

_Winter range._--The Iceland race (_T. totanus robustus_) passes through

the British Isles and has been recorded from Morocco. The typical race

(_T. totanus totanus_) winters in small numbers in the British Isles and

also on the Scandinavian coast, but not in Central Europe, crossing the

Mediterranean and wintering in Africa, where it has been recorded in

Cape Province and Natal, but only in small numbers, the majority

evidently wintering in the Tropics. Eastward it is found in the marshes

of Iraq and the shores of the Persian Gulf, but probably Indian birds

and those which winter in Ceylon, the Andamans, Malay Peninsula, China,

Hainan, Borneo, Java, Sumatra, Philippines, Celebes, Sunda Islands, and

Japan belong to other races.

_Spring migration._--The passage northward at the Straits of Gibraltar

takes place in March and April, while in Tunisia most leave in April,

though specimens have been obtained in June (probably non-breeders); and

in Egypt it stays till April. In Abyssinia it has been met with in March

(March 12, Zoulla) and most leave the marshes of Iraq in mid-May, though

some stay till the end of the month. It passes Malta in March and April,

and nearly all have left Greece by May, but passes Cyprus in April,

arriving in Holland and Denmark in April and Sweden late in that month

and reaching Finland early in May. Large numbers passed over St.

Catherine's Light in the Isle of Wight from 2.30 a. m. till dawn on

April 3 and 4, 1910.

_Fall migration._--In south Sweden it leaves in September and also

departs from Denmark and Holland about the same time. The passage at the

Straits of Gibraltar takes place in September and October and in Malta

in September, while in the Iraq marshes the first arrivals take place at

the end of July, but the majority come in August, and it is recorded

from Fao in August and September, arriving in Egypt in September, while

it has occurred as far south as the River Niger in the same month.

_Casual records._--It is an occasional visitor on passage to the

Canaries and has been met with on Madeira (March 15, April 20, 26,

September 24, October 24) as well as in East Greenland (Angmagsalik

April 24, May 29).

_Egg dates._--In Iceland the eggs are laid from the end of May to early

in June, May 28-June 8 (six dates), June 9-18 (five dates). In the

British Isles the first eggs are laid at the end of March and through

April and May, but late records in May, even in the north, are probably

due to second layings: March 28 to April 16 (10 dates); April 17 to 25

(16 dates); April 26 to May 5 (10 dates). In the Shetlands Saxby records

the first eggs on May 16. In Holland I have seen some 60 nests between

May 11 and 31, but many were undoubtedly second layings. In Salonika

eggs have been found as early as March 5.

TOTANUS MELANOLEUCUS (Gmelin)

GREATER YELLOW-LEGS

HABITS

The names, telltale and tattler, have long been applied to both of the

yellow-legs, and deservedly so, for their noisy, talkative habits are

their best known traits. They are always on the alert and ever vigilant

to warn their less observant or more trusting companions by their loud,

insistent cries of alarm that some danger is approaching. Every

sportsman knows this trait and tries to avoid arousing this alarm when

other, more desirable, game is likely to be frightened away. And many a

yellow-legs has been shot by an angry gunner as a reward for his

exasperating loquacity.

The two yellow-legs are still left on our list of game birds, because

their numbers do not seem to decrease much in spite of the large numbers

that are killed every year by sportsmen. William Brewster (1925) says

that he has "failed to note any decided lessening of their numbers in

New England during the past 30 or 40 years." This stability in numbers

is probably more apparent than real. The birds have been driven from

many of their former haunts by increased building of summer colonies,

improvements in seashore resorts, draining and filling of marshes, and

other changes; so that fewer birds can make the restricted localities

seem as well populated as ever.

_Spring._--The spring migration of the greater yellow-legs is well

marked on both coasts and in the interior, a generally northward trend.

It begins in March, reaches the northern States in April and extends

through May or even into June, although most of the birds are on their

breeding grounds in May. The bulk of the flight passes through

Massachusetts in May and through California in April. It seems to avoid

the prairie regions of southern Canada; William Rowan tells me that he

and C. G. Harrold regard it as "probably the scarcest of the regular

waders. In years of steady collecting, during the height of the

migration, spring and fall, he (Harrold) has seen the greater

yellow-legs only half a dozen times." J. A. Munro tells me that in

southern British Columbia, Okanagan Landing, it is much less common in

spring than in fall; he has recorded it as early as March 23.

J. R. Whitaker writes to me from Newfoundland that he usually sees the

first yellow-legs during early May: "On their first arrival the high

tundras are still in the grip of winter and many of the ponds on the

lower levels are partly covered with ice." John T. Nichols tells me that

it is often abundant on Long Island in the spring. He says in his notes:

"In May, 1919, the waters of a certain nontidal coastal creek, due to

wind conditions, receded to an unprecedented lowness, leaving broad

muddy shores exposed where almost always water stands. In what seemed

almost a magical response to the unusual water conditions, about 100

greater yellow-legs assembled at the creek, the largest flock I have

ever seen. Alighted, the birds were silent, and without the nervous

_hikkuping_ one associates with this species. Once all got up and

circled in a compact flock to return to the mud and shallows again."

_Courtship._--Mr. Whitaker writes to me:

The time for nesting varies as much as 10 days between the few

pairs which frequent the lower levels and the bulk of the birds

which nest on the high grounds. On the lowlands a pair of birds

will take up their quarters near the place they intend to nest soon

after their arrival and the cock bird may be seen high up in the

air uttering his nesting song. He will sometimes be so high that he

appears but a speck against the blue sky. His loud notes carry a

long distance and sound like _tweda-tweda-tweda_ uttered quickly

and continually for quite a long time.

Dr. Charles W. Townsend (1920) writes:

The courtship song of the greater yellow-legs comes up from the

marshes of Essex County throughout the month of May, but is heard

in greater volume during the two middle weeks. It has a sweet and

pleading character and seems to say _wull yer? wull yer?_ Although

it differs from the flickerlike call described in the original

Memoir, which may be heard at the same time, it, too, has a decided

flickerlike flavor. It is heard throughout the day, but in the

evening until it is nearly dark the marshes often resound with the

plaintive callings.

H. S. Swarth (1911) observed some greater yellow-legs on the wooded

islands of southeastern Alaska in April, of which he says:

At this time the males were going through various courting antics,

posing with upraised, quivering wings, or running in circles on the

sand bars around the object of their attentions, and incessantly

uttering the shrill whistle peculiar to the species.

_Nesting._--Considering the fact that the greater yellow-legs is such a

common and widely distributed bird, remarkably little has been published

on its nesting habits, and comparatively few nests have been found, in

spite of the fact that it does not go very far north to breed and its

breeding grounds are fairly accessible. I know from personal experience

with it that its nest is very hard to find. I have spent many hours

hunting for its nest on the high tundras of central Newfoundland, where

it breeds commonly, and secured only one set of eggs. The male bird is

very noisy and solicitous, flying out to meet the intruder while he is a

long way from the nest, alighting on any available spruce tree, stump,

rock, or other eminince, pouring out a steady stream of invective cries

and showing the greatest anxiety, but giving not the slightest clue as

to the location of the nest. And the female sits so closely on the nest

that it is only by the merest chance that she can be flushed. The high

tundra around Gafftopsail and Quarry, Newfoundland, is an immense tract

of boggy ground, full of small ponds and muddy splashes, interspersed

with mossy hummocks and outcroppings of rocks. My set was taken there on

June 9, 1912; it was in a mere hollow in the moss on a small hummock in

a shallow, muddy pond hole; the female was flushed, and the four eggs

were fresh.

Mr. Whitaker has sent me the following notes on the nesting habits of

the greater yellow-legs in Newfoundland:

On June 17, 1919, whilst walking over a big tundra with a friend

(Geo. H. Stuart, 3rd), a yellow-shank which flew up from the side

of a water hole showed considerable excitement, there were a number

of small ponds just there dotted with mossy islands; we beat all

the ground between these ponds but could find nothing, however, we

noticed that each time we approached the edge of the tundra where a

stunted growth of scattered dead larch trees were, and where the

wintergreen, laurel, and labrador tea bushes merged into the

sphagnum of the tundra, the bird seemed more excited and flew close

round our heads shrieking out his harsh notes _tee erk, tee erk,

tee erk_ more fiercely. We decided to hide away at some distance

and watch, thinking this must be the hen bird and we would wait

until she returned to the nest. We retired several hundred yards

and hid in some spruces, the bird following part of the way and

alighted on the top of a bush growing in the moss and there

remained for upwards of an hour, then flew to a pond near, settling

on an island, fed for a while, and after preening went to sleep;

this seemed absolutely hopeless, so we decided to have another look

over the ground. Each of us had a long pole with a handkerchief

tied to the end, with these we covered all the ground which

appeared suitable most thoroughly without any results. I then

remembered hunting for green-shanks nests in the north of Scotland;

there the nests were usually placed on a dry ridge, and seeing such

a ridge near the edge of the tundra I suggested to my friend that

we should go and look it over. We had not proceeded in its

direction more than 10 yards when right in front of me and not more

than 6 feet away on the top of a dry peat hummock amongst some

scrubby tea plant squatted a yellow-shank with a downy young one on

her back. I called my friend, who was only a few yards away; he

came and we both watched the bird for some time before putting her

up. When she did go there were four downy young in a very slight

hollow without any trace of nesting material but a few leaves which

had probably blown in. Amongst these we found some fragments of

eggshell.

On June 6th of the following year I was out on that tundra again

and worked my way towards where we had found the nest, but never

saw or heard a sign of the bird. However, I went to the old nest

and when within 3 feet to my astonishment saw a yellow-shank lying

flat on the nest. I could hardly believe my eyes. I watched her for

some time as she sat there perfectly motionless; on putting her up,

she began to scold loudly, sometimes flying close round my head and

then she would perch on a dead bush near, bobbing her head,

uttering _tee erk, tee erk, tee erk_ all the time. Four beautiful

eggs lay in the slight depression. I had been there fully 15

minutes when away in the far distance I heard another yellow-shank

which quickly approached and was evidently the mate, for they both

continued their abuse until I was out of sight. It very often

happens that the male bird is not within miles of the incubating

female, and under these conditions finding a nest is a mere fluke.

There is one rule which holds good in all the nests I have found,

and this is that a yellow-legs never nests on ground which is too

soft to scratch in. There must be soil or dry, hard peat. I once

found a nest on a boulder which had a thin covering of peat and

reindeer moss on it, whilst the surrounding ground was wet and

mossy, so being unsuitable for making a scratch. The nest is nearly

always placed quite close to a flashet or pond of water; I have

only twice seen a nest at a distance of 20 yards from any water

hole.

William Brewster (1883) found the greater yellow-legs abundant on

Anticosti Island in July and, although he found no eggs or young, he

obtained "the strongest circumstantial evidence" that the birds were

breeding there. The fact that this island has been for many years a

protected sanctuary may have had some effect in keeping up the supply of

these birds.

Fifty years or more ago Dr. E. W. Nelson (1877_a_) found several pairs

of greater yellow-legs about the Calumet Marshes, which from their

actions he felt sure were breeding there. He records a nest and four

eggs found near Evanston, Illinois, in June, 1876; "the nest was

situated in a slight depression at the base of a small hillock near the

border of a prairie slough, and was composed of grass stems and blades."

Ernest S. Norman (1915) while driving over a soft and spongy spot in a

swamp, in Manitoba, in which his team nearly became mired, was surprised

to see a greater yellow-legs fly up from its nest within 1 foot of the

front wheel of the wagon. The nest, which contained four heavily

incubated eggs on June 24, is thus described:

The nest was just a depression in the moss, with a few bits of ivy

grass as a lining. It had no shelter whatever, as a fire had swept

over the place about a month previous to the finding of the nest so

that there was not even grass growing anywhere near the nest.

_Eggs._--The four eggs, usually comprising the set, of the greater

yellow-legs are ovate pyriform in shape and have a slight gloss. They

are rather handsomely marked and are practically indistinguishable from

eggs of the European greenshank. The ordinary ground colors are pale

buff, "light buff" to "cartridge buff." They are irregularly spotted and

blotched, chiefly about the larger end, with dark browns, "bay," "liver

brown," and "chestnut brown," and with conspicuous underlying spots and

blotches of various shades of "purple-drab." An especially handsome set

in my collection, one of the most beautiful sets of waders' eggs I have

ever seen, is richly colored in reddish browns. The ground colors vary

from "pinkish buff" to "orange-cinnamon" or "sayal brown." The four eggs

are heavily and boldly marked with large, longitudinal blotches and

splashes of rich browns, "claret brown," "mahogany red," and "bay," over

underlying blotches, nearly concealed, of various shades of "purple

drab." The measurements of 51 eggs average 48.9 by 33 millimeters; the

eggs showing the four extremes measure =53.5= by 33.8, 51.8 by =35.1=,

=43.7= by 31.5, and 44.9 by =30.8= millimeters.

_Young._--We have no data as to the period of incubation or in what way

the sexes share it. Both sexes share in the care of the young, which are

brooded by the female for the first day. The young birds referred to by

Mr. Whitaker had left the nest on the second day.

Life histories of North American shore birds, Part 1 (of 2) · 第 40 / 47 段