They appear stupid when solitary and without a family, and will stand perfectly still, eying one from a little eminence. Occasionally we are startled by a loud druuett from the side of a sand dune, and I was at a loss for some time to discover the owner of this most unmusical sound, which finally turned out to be an individual of this species standing motionless and watching us. It would seem impossible for this sound to have issued from this bird if I had not seen it in the act. These sandpipers have the habit in common with others of their kind of suddenly elevating the wing directly over the back. Often when alighting on the tundra, as soon as they stopped up went one wing, followed soon after, perhaps, by the other. Often while watching a flock on the lagoon beach first one would elevate a wing, then another; it was always the near wing which went up first. I never saw a bird elevate the off wing first. I know of no reason for their doing so. They are tame. I have walked up to a flock of about 50, and with care could drive them before me for some distance before they took flight, being but a few feet away. They are often seen feeding in the water up to their breasts, and seem to take delight in it. They swim readily, but not often. On June 30 I saw one fly out to a stone in a pool, and after gathering all the food possible it deliberately swam to another, and having visited each stone in the same way flew back to the shore and then bathed itself, occasionally taking a swim.
Voice.—Mr. Hanna (1921) describes the notes of this bird as follows:
If a person climbs to the sandpiper country on St. George during May or June one of his first surprises will be a series of notes very much like those of the flicker, a full deep whistle repeated in the same pitch about a dozen times in quick succession. The bird utters this while on the wing, most likely when it is coming toward the intruder with great speed. When close by it wheels and settles lightly on a near-by hummock or "niggerhead." One wing will be held vertically extended for a few seconds after alighting and may be flashed at short intervals thereafter. Another note for which I have no descriptive language always reminded me of the sound of tree frogs. It is the note usually given when the birds are on the ground. While neither can be called a song they are very attractive and pleasant to the listener and most surprising to one familiar with the "peep peep" of sandpipers in winter.
Field marks.—In winter the Pribilof sandpiper looks much like the purple sandpiper; it frequents similar haunts and has much the same habits. But its summer plumage, with its rufous upper parts and mottled under parts, is strikingly different. It resembles the Aleutian sandpiper in all plumages, but it is decidedly larger and, in summer, its upper parts are lighter rufous and there is more white in the under parts.
Fall.—According to Preble and McAtee (1923):
About the middle of July, when the nesting birds are freed from family cares, they begin to resort to the beaches to feed, and at night gather in flocks to roost on some favorite rocky point. Later the young join the adults and the flocks increase in size through August. About August 9 the birds began to be common about the beaches, the flocks there apparently being in excess of the number breeding on the islands, and in all probability, therefore, comprised in part of migrants from other breeding stations. They continued to be abundant until my departure on the last of August.
The Pribilof sandpiper is too rare and beautiful to be treated as a game bird, but Mr. Hanna (1921) writes:
The birds possess some economic importance to the natives of the Pribilofs, and they have occasionally been eaten in the officers' messes. Their habit of congregating in fairly compact flocks and their fearless unassuming nature make them easy targets. For this reason close watch should be kept of the numbers returning annually, and should any noticeable diminution take place strict prohibitive measures can and should be invoked. This is possible because the islands are under strict governmental control as regards all wild life. Because of its limited range it would not be a difficult matter to completely exterminate the species. Special protective measures at this time, however, are not believed to be essential because there is even less hunting now than there has been for fifty or more years. The introduction of livestock and reindeer for fresh food removes in large measure the necessity for shooting, and the native is ordinarily too indolent to hunt unless he has to do so for food.