Another singular habit of the woodcock that I have never seen noted is that of both birds setting upon the nest in wet or cold weather. In doing this they huddle very close together and face in opposite directions, and I have always noted that they have their heads thrown back and their bills elevated to an angle of about forty-five degrees.
Mr. Nichols writes to me:
On Long Island there is a favorite nesting station for woodcock, where the woodland gives place to broad fields, separated by narrow stands of big trees with a sparse tangled undergrowth of shrubbery and cat-brier, and where here and there a short fresh-water creek extends inland from the not distant bay.
Several writers have stated or implied that the woodcock raises two broods in a season. This would be an exception to the rule among waders. I believe that it normally nests early and that the late nests are merely second attempts at raising a brood, where the first nest has been destroyed.
An interesting case of nest-protecting display is thus described by Dr. Robert Cushman Murphy (1926):
She (assuming that it was the female) would allow us to come within a few feet before leaving her well-concealed position. Then she would spring from the nest, pitch on the ground close by, and, standing with the tail toward us, would raise and spread it so as to show to full advantage the double row of glistening white spots at the ends of the rectrices and under coverts. Next, flashing this striking banner slowly, she would move off among the trees in the attitude of a strutting turkey cock, stopping when we refused to follow, and then tripping ahead for a few steps, all the while bleating softly. The effect was astonishing; the ordinary low visibility of a woodcock against the forest floor no longer held, for the spotted fan of the tail had become a most conspicuous and arresting mark.
Eggs.—The American woodcock lays four eggs, sometimes only three, and rarely five. They vary in shape from ovate to rounded ovate and have a moderate gloss. The ordinary ground colors vary from "pinkish buff" to "cartridge buff" and in certain brown types from "pinkish buff" to "cinnamon." They are usually rather sparingly and more or less evenly marked with small spots, but sometimes these spots are concentrated about the larger end. In the lighter types, which are the most common, there are often many large blotches of light shades of "vinaceous drab" or "brownish drab"; these are conspicuous and often predominate. Mixed with them are numerous small spots of light browns, "cinnamon," "clay color," or "tawny olive." In the brown types these spots are in richer browns, "hazel," "russet," or "cinnamon brown," with the drab spots less conspicuous. The measurements of 53 eggs, in the United States National Museum, average 38 by 29 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 41 by 30 and 35 by 27.5 millimeters.
Young.—The period of incubation is 20 or 21 days. Both sexes assist in this and in the care of the young. An incubating woodcock is notorious as a close sitter and can not usually be flushed from the nest unless nearly trodden upon; often it can be touched or even lifted from the eggs. The young are rather feeble when first hatched and are brooded by the parent bird much of the time for the first day or two. If flushed from her brood of young the female flutters away for a short distance as if hardly able to fly, with dangling legs and tail depressed and spread. If the young are strong enough to walk, she calls to them making a clucking sound, to which they respond with a faint peeping sound, as they run toward her; having gathered them under her wings, she covers them again trusting to her concealing coloration. If the young are too young and feeble to run, she may return when she thinks it safe, and carry them off between her legs, one at a time. Several reliable and accurate observers have testified to seeing this done; some who have not seen it have doubted it. The following account by Edwyn Sandys (1904) seems convincing:
The nest in question was on a bit of level ground amid tall trees. The sole suggestion of cover was a lot of flattened leaves which lay as the snow had left them. Perhaps 10 yards away was an old rail fence about waist-high, and on the farther side of it was a clump of tall saplings. A man coming out of the wood told me he had just flushed a woodcock and had seen her brood, recently hatched and pointed out where they were. I went in to investigate, and located one young bird crouched on the leaves. It ran a few steps and again crouched, evidently not yet strong enough for any sustained effort. I went off, and hid behind a stump, to await developments. From this shelter the young bird was visible and it made no attempt to move. Presently the old one came fluttering back, alighted near the youngster, and walked to it. In a few moments she rose and flew low and heavily, merely clearing the fence, and dropping perhaps 10 yards within the thicket. Her legs appeared to be half bent, and so far as I could determine the youngster was held between them. Something about her appearance reminded me of a thing often seen—a shrike carrying off a small bird. I carefully marked her down, then glanced toward where the youngster had been. It was no longer there; and a few moments later it, or its mate, was found exactly where the mother had gone down. She flushed and made off in the usual summer flight.
William H. Fisher writes to me: