British Sea Birds

by Charles Dixon

GOLDEN PLOVER.

This species, the Charadrius pluvialis of ornithologists, is, from the regularity of its appearance and its great abundance, known almost everywhere as the Plover of the coast. It derives its trivial name from the profusion of golden yellow drop-like spots which adorn its upper plumage, and may always be distinguished from allied species by its barred tail feathers and white axillaries. Large flights of Golden Plover begin to appear on our low-lying coasts in September, and through October and November the number steadily increases. Many of these birds simply pass along our shore-line to haunts in the Mediterranean basin, but many linger thereon through the winter. One of the great haunts of this Plover is along the shores of the Wash—that vast area of mud, and sand, and salt-marsh, which extends for miles in drear monotony, only enlivened and made endurable by the hordes of wild fowl that congregate upon its treacherous surface. Here, at the end of October, or during the first week in November, the migration of the Golden Plover can be observed in all its strength. Day after day, night after night, I have remarked the passage of this bird, in almost one unbroken stream, flock succeeding flock, so quickly as to form a nearly continuous throng. Upon the sands this Plover often associates with Dunlins, Gray Plovers, Lapwings, and other waders. Great numbers are, or used to be, shot or netted in this district, and sent to inland markets, for their flesh is justly esteemed for its delicacy, ranked by some as second only to that of the Woodcock. Golden Plovers feed and move about a good deal at night, especially by moonlight. Their food, during winter at least, consists of sand-worms and hoppers, molluscs, small seeds, and so on. The whistle of this Plover is one of the most attractive sounds of the mud-flats and salt-marshes. It may, under suitable atmospheric conditions, be heard for a long distance across the wastes, and sounds something like klee-wee, occasionally prolonged into klee-ee-wee. This note is uttered both while the bird is on the ground and in the air. In the pairing season it is run out into a trill. The movements of the Golden Plover during winter are largely regulated by the weather, and I have known it desert a district entirely, or become very restless and unsettled, just previous to a storm.

In spring the sea coasts are deserted, and the Golden Plover retires to its breeding-grounds. These, in our islands, are situated on the upland moors and mountain plateaux. The nest, invariably made upon the ground, is often placed on a hassock of coarse herbage, or on a tuft of cotton grass, and consists merely of a hollow, lined with a few bits of withered grass or dead leaves. The eggs are four in number, buff blotched and spotted with various shades of brown, and more sparingly with gray. They are much richer and yellower in appearance than those of the Lapwing, otherwise closely resemble them.

GRAY PLOVER.

This handsome bird, generically separated by many ornithologists from the preceding, on account of its possessing a minute and entirely functionless hind toe, is the Vanellus helveticus of Brisson, and the Charadrius helveticus of writers who ignore the genus Squatarola, founded by Leach on the above-named trivial and, all things considered, utterly inadequate character. The Gray Plover is the first species we have considered in the present work that does not breed in the British Islands. Many birds of this species only pass our coast on migration in going to, and returning from, their Arctic breeding-grounds, but a fair number linger upon them throughout the winter. The Gray Plover may be readily distinguished from the preceding, as well as from all other allied forms, by the presence of a rudimentary hind toe, and by its black axillaries. In its seasonal changes of plumage it closely resembles its ally. In the adult plumage, however, it never exhibits any of the yellow, drop-like, spots on the upper parts, so characteristic of that bird in every feather stage of its existence. Gray Plovers begin to arrive on the British coasts as early as August, and the migration continues with increasing strength until October or November. Such individuals as pass our islands for more southern haunts return along the British coasts during May and June. During its sojourn with us, the Gray Plover confines itself almost entirely to the mud-flats and salt marshes. It does not gather into such large companies as the Golden Plover—but this may be due, perhaps, to its smaller numbers—and is often seen in pairs or small parties, whilst odd birds will occasionally attach themselves to flocks of Knots and Dunlins. In its habits generally, in its flight, and in its food, it closely resembles its commoner and better known ally. The note uttered whilst the bird lives upon our coasts resembles that of the Golden Plover.

The breeding-grounds of the Gray Plover are on the tundras and barren grounds in the Arctic regions of the Old and New Worlds, above the limits of forest growth. The nest is always made upon the ground, and is merely a slight hollow, lined with a few scraps of withered herbage. The four eggs very closely resemble those of the Lapwing, but are not quite so olive. When once flushed from the nest the Gray Plover becomes very wary and restless, and does not return for some time; should the young be hatched various alluring antics are indulged in to withdraw attention from them.

LAPWING.

This bird is the typical species of Brisson’s genus Vanellus, and is known to most naturalists as Vanellus cristatus or vulgaris. It cannot easily be confused with any other British bird, and is readily identified by its long conspicuous crest, metallic green, suffused with purple upper parts, and bright chestnut upper and under tail coverts. Further, its appearance in the air, so far as British Limicoline birds are concerned, is unique; the curiously rounded wings, and deliberate Heron-like flight, together with the peculiar note, make the matter of its identification easy to the veriest tyro in ornithology. The Lapwing is also not only the commonest of its order found in Britain, but certainly the most widely dispersed. Nevertheless, it is only during the non-breeding season that the Lapwing can fairly be described as a marine bird. From March onwards to the early autumn it retires to inland moors, pastures, and rough undrained lands to breed, returning coastwards again when the young are reared, especially from the more exposed and elevated localities. The favourite marine haunts of the “Green Plover,” or Peewit, as this bird is otherwise called, are rough saltings, mud-flats, and slob-lands; sands and shingles it rarely visits unless when driven to do so by heavy snowfalls; and at all times it prefers ground overgrown with herbage to the bare beaches. As this species presents little difference between summer and winter plumage, means for concealment may have some influence in its choice of haunt. When standing or running on the ground the Lapwing is a very ordinary looking bird; graceful enough, it is true; but the moment it rises into the air the observer is struck with the singularity of its appearance; the broad and rounded wings are unfolded and moved in a slow flapping Owl-like manner; very often grotesque evolutions are indulged in, the bird rising and swooping down again, turning and twisting in a most erratic way, and all the time persistently uttering the wild, mewing, plaintive cry that is absolutely characteristic of this Plover—an unmistakable and unique note among birds. It may be expressed on paper as a nasal pee-weet, frequently modulated into weet-a-weet, pee-weet-weet.

As the autumn days draw on the Lapwing becomes more gregarious, often forming into flocks of enormous size, which wander about a good deal as the varying weather affects their supply of food. This, in winter, consists chiefly of worms, grubs, molluscs, crustaceans, and other small marine creatures; in summer, seeds, shoots of herbage, and various ground fruits and berries are added. The Lapwing in its movements on the ground is light and elegant, running and walking well, standing high upon its legs, but it seldom seems to wade, and never, so far as I know, attempts to swim under any normal circumstances. Great numbers of Lapwings are killed for the table, but the flesh cannot be compared with that of the Golden Plover, being not only dark in appearance, but unpleasant in taste, especially after the birds have resided long in littoral haunts.

The Lapwing at the approach of spring retires inland to breed, visiting for the purpose moors, rough lands, water meadows, pastures, and grain fields. The nesting habits of this species are certainly better known than those of any other member of the Plover tribe, at least, as far as British birds are concerned. Every person at all familiar with the common objects of the country, knows the nest of the Lapwing, and must time and again have been amused with the bird’s erratic behaviour, as its breeding grounds are invaded by human intruders. The nest is always made upon the ground, generally in a hollow of some kind, often in the footprints of cattle and horses. Sometimes it is cunningly hidden beneath a tuft of rushes or hassock of sedge and grass; whilst the summit of a mole-hill is not rarely chosen. The hollow is lined with a few bits of the dry and withered surrounding herbage; and in many cases even this slight provision is omitted. The four eggs (five have been recorded!) very like pears in shape, are buffish-brown or pale olive in ground colour, handsomely blotched and spotted, especially on the larger half, with blackish-brown, paler brown, and gray. If the flesh of the Lapwing is not held in very high repute its eggs make ample amends for the deficiency. Vast numbers are systematically gathered for the table; and as the birds will replace their stolen eggs again and again, the harvest may be prolonged over several weeks. The first eggs are laid in April; in more northern localities not before May. In the early days of the Plover egg season, these commodities frequently realise as much as twelve shillings per dozen, and are a source of profit to many a dweller in country districts. Dogs are sometimes trained to search for them. When the young are hatched the Lapwing displays many curious tricks to lure enemies from them, feigning death or broken wings, or swooping with loud cries to and fro.