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.