For some three weeks after their arrival, these birds gladden landscape and water scape, in care-free abandon. They are ever on the move, afoot or awing; and during these three weeks of junketing, the unique courtship is carried on. There is no more laughable sight, to one endowed with a modicum of the sense of humor, than that of a couple, or even three, of the brightly colored females, ardently chasing a single somber-plumaged male, who turns and darts, here and there, in arrowy flights apparently much bored by the whole performance. Meanwhile, the sometimes dangling feet and the ever tremulous wings of the amorous females bespeak an ardor that would be ridiculous, under the circumstances, were it not so desperately in earnest.
Dr. E. W. Nelson (1877), on the other hand, writes:
At these times the nearest approach to pursuit is in a habit they have of suddenly darting off for a short distance at right angles to their general course, but this appears to be in mere sport, for nearly the same relative positions are kept by the birds, and this erratic course is rarely pursued beyond a few rods. In fact, throughout the pairing season I have always found the phalaropes very undemonstrative toward each other, the choice of mates being conducted in a quiet, unobtrusive way, quite unlike the usual manner among birds. The only demonstrations I have observed during the pairing time consist of a kind of solemn bowing of the head and body; but sometimes, with the head lowered and thrust forward, they will run back and forth in front of the object of their regard, or again a pair may often be seen to salute each other by alternately bowing or lowering their heads; but their courtship is characterized by a lack of rivalry and vehemence usually exhibited by birds. A male is often accompanied by two females at first, but as soon as his choice is made the rejected bird joins her fortunes with some more impressible swain.
During my various seasons spent on the western plains I have frequently seen these phalaropes flying about in trios, consisting of one male and two females, the male always in the lead, as if pursued. Females apparently outnumber the males; and, as nest building and incubation are entirely performed by the male, many of the females must remain unattached and unable to breed. I have actually seen the male building the nest and have never been able to flush a female from a set of eggs or a brood of young.
W. Leon Dawson (1923) writes:
We have already acknowledged that Mrs. Wilson wears the breeches and that she is more inclined to club life than she is to household cares. The case is, however, much more serious than we had at first suspected. I owe the original intimation of the true state of affairs to Mr. A. O. Treganza, the veteran oologist of Salt Lake City; and subsequent investigation of my own has abundantly confirmed his claims. Mrs. Wilson is a bigamist. Not occasionally, and of course not invariably, but very usually she maintains two establishments. Now that attention is called to it, we see that our notebooks are full of references to female phalaropes seen in company with two males. The association can not be accidental, for we are in the very midst of the breeding season. The males, frightened by our presence in the swamp, and not daring to remain longer upon their eggs, have sought the comforting presence of the head of their house. The three take counsel together, and it is only when the redoubtable lady announces that the way is clear that the dutiful cuckolds trail off to their nests. On the 6th and 7th of June, 1922, our M. C. O. party of three members gave close attention to a swamp in Long Valley, southern Mono County, at an altitude of 7,000 feet. We took 11 sets, of four eggs each, of the Wilson phalaropes, and we noted a distinct tendency of the nests to group themselves in pairs. In only one instance, however, were we able to trace clearly a connection between two occupied nests. These two, containing heavily incubated eggs, were situated only 42 feet apart, and the two males who were flushed from them by a surprise coup of ours joined themselves immediately to the only female who had shown any solicitude concerning this section of the swamp.
Nesting.—The Wilson phalarope is regarded by some egg collectors as an exasperating bird, because they have some difficulty in finding its nest. The nest is surprisingly well concealed, often in what seems to be scanty vegetation; and the eggs are good examples of protective coloration. I remember once crossing a moist meadow, covered with short grass which had been mowed the previous season; a male phalarope flushed from almost under foot, I threw down my hat to mark the spot and started hunting for the nest. I hunted in vain, until I gave it up and picked up my hat; there was the nest, with four eggs in it, under the hat and in plain sight.
In southwestern Saskatchewan in 1905 and 1906, we found some half dozen or more nests of this species, between June 8 and July 13. The nests were on the wet or moist meadows about the lakes and sloughs or on marshy islands; some of the nests were in practically plain sight in short grass; others were more or less well concealed in longer grass, which was sometimes arched over them; they were always difficult to find unless the incubating male was flushed. The nests were merely hollows in the damp ground, three or four inches in diameter, either scantily or well lined with dry grass.
Doctor Nelson (1877) gives a very good description of the behavior of these birds on their nesting grounds, as follows: