During the greater part of the year this species—the Totanus calidris of modern naturalists—resides upon the coasts, retiring to more or less inland districts to breed. There are few prettier and more graceful birds along the shore than the Redshank, distinguished by its long orange-red legs, and white lower back, rump, and secondaries—the latter marbled with brown at the base. In the breeding season the grayish-brown upper plumage, and the white breast characteristic of winter, are mottled with rich dark brown. In autumn our resident Redshanks are largely increased in numbers by migratory individuals from more northerly latitudes; many of these pass on to winter quarters further south, but many others remain with us for the winter. Sociable at all times, and freely consorting with other Limicoline species on the coast, in winter, especially, the Redshank becomes very gregarious. Its favourite haunts are mud-flats and salt-marshes, and it is here that the largest flocks congregate, but many odd birds frequent coasts of a more rocky character. Redshanks are sprightly, restless birds, almost constantly in motion when on the feed, and scattering far and wide, running to and fro with dainty action, wading through the little pools, and even occasionally swimming the shallows between one mud-bank and another. They are ever alert, and take wing as soon as danger threatens, the scattered flock soon forming into a compact mass again. Between the tides Redshanks often collect on some mud-bank, where in a serried throng they keep up a confused babel of subdued cries, as if all were talking and none listening. Its flight is rapid and most unsteady looking—the black and white wings producing an idea of irregularity which is more imaginary than real. Upon the coast the Redshank feeds on sand-worms, crustaceans, molluscs, and such like marine creatures, but during summer at its breeding-grounds, worms, insects, ground-fruits and berries are among the substances sought. The call note of this wader is a loud shrill tyü-tyü most persistently repeated when the bird is excited or alarmed; whilst during the pairing season the love song or trill is happily described by Professor Newton—who has had exceptional opportunities for observing this species—as a constantly repeated leero-leero-leero, accompanied with many gesticulations, as he hovers in attendance on the flight of his mate; “or with a slight change to a different key, engages with a rival; or again, half angrily and half piteously, complains of a human intruder on his chosen ground.”[3]
The Redshank breeds somewhat locally in the marshy districts of our islands, perhaps most commonly in the low-lying eastern counties of England, and in Scotland. It is one of the earliest waders to quit the coast in spring, and to retire to its nesting places, which are fen and marsh lands, swampy moors, and the boggy shores of lochs and tarns. Numbers of nests may be found within a small area of suitable ground, and certain spots appear to be visited annually for breeding purposes, in some cases even after the district, by reclamation, has lost its original marshy character. The nest is slight, but usually well concealed, often beneath the shade of a tuft of grass or other herbage, or in a hassock of sedge or under a little bush or tall weed. It consists of a mere hollow scantily lined with a few bits of withered grass or leaves. The four eggs are very pyriform in shape, and vary from pale buff to dark buff, handsomely and boldly blotched and spotted with rich dark brown, paler brown and gray. When disturbed the old birds become very noisy and excited, careering wildly to and fro, and should the young be hatched they become even more demonstrative, and by various antics seek to decoy an intruder away. A return to the coast is made as soon as the young are sufficiently matured. Many eggs of this bird are gathered and sold as “Plover’s eggs.”
SANDERLING.
During the period of its spring and autumn migrations—especially the latter—this pretty little bird, the Tringa arenaria of ornithologists who ignore the genus Calidris, named first by Cuvier in 1800, and formally founded eleven years later by Illiger, established as it is on such a trivial character (all things considered) as the absence of a minute and functionless hind toe—is one of the commonest and most widely distributed of Limicoline birds. Comparatively few individuals remain on our coast to winter, and these collect more especially on the southern beaches. In winter plumage—the dress in which it is most familiar to British observers—the Sanderling is a delicate silvery-gray above and pure white below; but in the breeding season, although the underparts remain unchanged in colour, the upper parts become mottled with chestnut and black. Comparatively few Sanderlings reach the British coasts before August, and the southward migration continues during September. By the middle of the latter month the bulk of the individuals has passed beyond our limits; by the end of October but few remain, although some of these prolong their stay over the winter. The return migration begins in April, and lasts over May into June. There can be little doubt that the Sanderling migrates by night. Few birds are more trustful and engaging than this pretty little Arctic stranger. It not only frequents the long reaches of sand, but mud-flats, estuaries, and the creeks and streams in salt-marshes; its favourite haunts, however, are the sands. During its sojourn on our coast it consorts in flocks of varying size; and very frequently a small party attach themselves to a larger gathering of Dunlins, or Ringed Plovers. Indeed for the society of the latter birds the Sanderling shows a strongly marked preference. We may safely say that, during the migration period, most large bunches of Ringed Plovers contain a varying number of Sanderlings. Its actions on the sand are very similar to those of the Ringed Plover, but it does not appear ever to run in such fits and starts, searching the ground more systematically, after the manner of a Stint or a Dunlin. During high water the Sanderling very often resorts to the higher shingle, and skulks amongst the pebbles, sometimes remaining unseen until nearly trodden upon, so closely does its white and gray dress resemble the stones among which it nestles. Upon the dark muds and the wet shining brown sands it is much more conspicuous; and there are few prettier sights along the shore than a scattered flock of Sanderlings, standing head towards the observer, looking like so many white balls of animated snow. It searches for its food by running to and fro about the beach, often on the very margin of the spent waves, sometimes wading through the shallows, or quickly dodging the foam-flecked in-driving surf. Its food consists of sand-worms, crustaceans, various insects and great quantities of small molluscs. In summer, however, it is almost exclusively insectivorous, but also feeds on the buds of the Arctic saxifrages. The note of this bird during its sojourn on our coasts is a shrill whit, but this is not very frequently or persistently uttered.
During winter the Sanderling is a great wanderer, visiting parts of Africa, Southern Asia, Australia, and South America, but in the breeding season its range seems confined to the Arctic regions. But very little is known of the nesting habits of the Sanderling, and few of its eggs are in collections. It is said to arrive at its Arctic haunts in May or early June, as soon as the water is free from ice, and the ground bare of snow. Its nesting haunts are the barren grounds and tundras near, and the beaches of, the Arctic Ocean. The nest is a mere hollow, scantily lined with dry grass and leaves, and the four eggs are buffish-olive in ground colour, mottled and spotted with pale olive-brown and gray.
KNOT.
This species, the Tringa canutus of Linnæus, and most modern ornithologists, is another of the Arctic migrants that pass the British coasts regularly on their journeys, and linger here in much smaller numbers over the winter. Camden, in 1607, appears to have been the first author to connect the name of the Knot with King Canute, but much difference of opinion exists as to the reason thereof. Some authorities assert that it was in connection with the story of that king upon the seashore; others, and perhaps with greater reason, because of the Royal Dane’s great liking for its flesh. The bird continued to be so closely associated with the king by successive writers, that Linnæus followed them in applying the specific name of canutus to the Knot, which is still retained by the majority of naturalists.
The migrations of the Knot are very marked and regular. The bird begins to arrive on the British coasts early in August, and from then to the end of October a nearly constant stream pours upon them, reaching its greatest volume in September. By far the greater number pass on to still more southern haunts, but a sufficiently large portion remain to winter as to render the species one of the most familiar of Limicoline forms to habitues of the coast. The return migration begins on our coasts in April, and continues throughout May. The principal haunts of the Knot in the British Islands are situated on the eastern and south-eastern coasts. Mud-flats, salt-marshes, wide, expansive sands, and big estuaries, are the spots where Knots most do congregate, for these furnish it with a constant supply of food. Ten years ago, I remember, great numbers of Knots used to be caught in the flight-nets on the Wash, during October and November, but the numbers of late years have considerably decreased. The Knot is not only very gregarious, but social, and often mixes with companies of other waders. When feeding Knots keep close together, generally all heading in the same direction, and moving about quickly. If the flock is a very large one some of the individuals are almost constantly in the air, flying over the heads of their companions, and alighting again, as if eager to get the first look over the ground. They are very wary when congregated in such large assemblies, easily flushed, and often performing various evolutions, both over the sands or the water, before alighting again. The Knot more often runs with a series of short, quick steps than walks, and it flies both rapidly and well. After feeding, the entire flock will often stand for a long time on a certain piece of the shore, sleeping and preening plumage, but even on these occasions they are somewhat restless, and it is rare to see all still at once. They feed both by night and by day. The call-note is seldom or never uttered, although when on migration the birds appear to be noisy enough, crying incessantly to each other as they fly along in the gloom.
But little is known of the nesting economy of the Knot. Its great breeding grounds—the nesting places of the vast flocks that pass southwards in autumn—still remain undiscovered. Where they are situated it is useless to speculate. Naturalists are ignorant of its eggs, which still remain unknown in collections, although the young in down have been obtained. The Knot breeds in the high Arctic regions, in the North Polar Basin, mostly, if not entirely above lat. 80°; and here it has been met with during summer by various travellers. The Knot is another bird remarkable for the great seasonal changes which its plumage undergoes. In winter, the plumage is ash-gray above, white below; in summer, the feathers of the upper parts become black margined with reddish-brown and mixed with white, those of the lower parts rich bay or chestnut. It has been remarked that the birds that winter on our coasts do not assume such rich tints in summer as individuals that pass along our coasts from more southern latitudes. This is probably because the birds wintering with us are younger individuals, only the oldest penetrating to the remoter winter home. The Knot has a wide distribution during winter, including the Southern States, and Mexico, Africa, and it is said Australia, and New Zealand! It is possible that in the latter countries the Eastern Knot—the Tringa crassirostris of science—is confused with the present species.