The Golden Plover spends the autumn, winter, and part of the spring, in various portions of the United States, appearing in considerable numbers both along the coast and in the interior, and not unfrequently on our highest grounds. A much greater number, however, proceed in severe winters beyond the limits of our Southern States, and the partial migrations of this species are much influenced by the state of the weather. They are more abundant along the sea shores of the Middle and Eastern Districts, from the middle of April to the beginning of May, whereas in autumn they range over the interior, and more especially the western prairies. In the early part of May they congregate in immense flocks, and commence their journey toward more northern regions, where they are said to breed.
The account which Wilson gave of this species refers in part to the “Bull-headed Plover,” Charadrius helveticus, although his figure cannot be mistaken for that of the latter, even in its first autumnal dress. But the Editor of the second edition of Wilson’s work has rejected the Golden Plover as an American Bird, although he might have frequently seen it in the very markets of Philadelphia. The Prince of Musignano corrected this error, in his valuable “Observations on the Nomenclature of Wilson’s Ornithology.” Mr Selby, in speaking of the Golden Plover, gives it as his opinion, that the bird so called in America, differs from that of Europe. This opinion, however, I cannot consider as correct, as I have seen and examined the Golden Plovers of both countries, and have found their manners, tone of voice, and appearance, precisely similar.
This bird moves on the ground with sprightliness. When observed, it often runs with considerable rapidity to some distance, suddenly stops short, nods once or twice, vibrating its body at the same time, and if it should imagine itself unnoticed, it often lies down and remains crouched until the danger is over. At the time of their departure from the north, and while on the sands or mud-bars on the sea shore, they often raise their wings as if to air them for a few moments. While searching for food, they move in a direct manner, often look sideways toward the ground, and pick up the object of their search by a peculiar bending movement of the body. They are frequently observed to pat the moist earth with their feet, to force worms from their burrows. In autumn they betake themselves to the higher grounds, where berries as well as insects are to be met with, and where they find abundance of grasshoppers.
When travelling to a considerable distance, the Golden Plover flies at the height of from thirty to sixty feet, in a regular manner, with considerable velocity, the flock, when large, forming an extended front, and moving with regular flappings, an individual now and then uttering a mellow note. Before alighting they often perform various evolutions, now descending and flying swiftly over the ground, then curving upwards or sidewise, closing and extending their ranks, until the sportsman is often tired of watching them, and, after all, the flock, just when he expects it to alight, may suddenly shoot off and fly to a distance. When they alight within shooting distance, the moment their feet touch the ground is the critical one, for they are generally in a compact body, and almost immediately afterwards they disperse. I have often observed them while flying from one place to another, suddenly check their course for a moment or two, as if to look at the objects below, in the manner of Curlews.
While at New Orleans, on the 16th of March 1821, I was invited by some French gunners to accompany them to the neighbourhood of Lake St John, to witness the passage of thousands of these birds, which were coming from the north-east, and continuing their course. At the first appearance of the birds early in the morning, the gunners had assembled in parties of from twenty to fifty at different places, where they knew from experience that the Plovers would pass. There stationed, at nearly equal distances from each other, they were sitting on the ground. When a flock approached, every individual whistled in imitation of the Plover’s call-note, on which the birds descended, wheeled, and passing within forty or fifty yards, ran the gauntlet as it were. Every gun went off in succession, and with such effect that I several times saw a flock of a hundred or more reduced to a miserable remnant of five or six individuals. The game was brought up after each volley by the dogs, while their masters were charging their pieces anew. This sport was continued all day, and at sunset, when I left one of these lines of gunners, they seemed as intent on killing more as they were when I arrived. A man near the place where I was seated had killed sixty-three dozens. I calculated the number in the field at two hundred, and supposing each to have shot twenty dozen, forty-eight thousand Golden Plovers would have fallen that day.
On inquiring if these passages were of frequent occurrence, I was told that six years before, such another had occurred immediately after two or three days of very warm weather, when they came up with a breeze from the north-east. Only some of the birds were fat, the greater number of those which I examined being very lean; scarcely any had food in their stomach, and the eggs in the ovaries of the females were undeveloped. The next morning the markets were amply supplied with Plovers at a very low price.
I have again applied to my friend William Macgillivray for an account of the manners of this species during the breeding season, which I now lay before you.
“The Golden Plover is in many parts of Scotland, but especially in the Northern Highlands, and in the Hebrides, a very common bird. When the weather begins to improve towards the end of spring, these birds may be seen flying over the shores or fields in their vicinity, at a great height, in loose flocks, which now extend into a wide front, now form irregular angular lines, move with a quiet and regular flight, frequently emitting their peculiar soft notes, and at times uttering a singular cry, somewhat resembling the syllables courlie-wee. These flocks are leaving their winter haunts and returning to the inland moors, over which they disperse in pairs. In the beginning of May, should you traverse one of the dreary heaths, you will often hear the plaintive cry of the Plover, mingling, perhaps, with the feeble cheep of the Dunlin, or the loud scream of the Curlew. Before you have advanced to any considerable distance, there may come up and alight on some mossy knoll beside you, a male, clad in his beautiful summer vesture of black and green. You may approach him within ten paces if you are inclined, and in some districts it would be easy for one to shoot many dozens of them in a day at this season. After incubation has commenced, the females seldom make their appearance on such occasions. Whether the males assist their mates at that time or not, they certainly do not forsake them. The nest is a slight hollow in a tuft of moss, or on a dry place among the heath, irregularly strewed with fragments of withered plants. The eggs, of which the full number is four, are placed, as usual in this genus, with their small ends together. They are much larger and more pointed than those of the Lapwing, being at an average two inches and one-twelfth in length, and an inch and a-half in their greatest transverse diameter. The shell is thin and smooth, of a light greyish-yellow or cream-colour, irregularly spotted, dotted and patched with dark brown, and sometimes having a few light purple spots interspersed, the markings larger towards the broadest part. The young leave the nest immediately after they burst the shell, and conceal themselves by lying flat on the ground. At this period, the female evinces the greatest anxiety for their safety, and will occasionally feign lameness to entice the intruder to pursue her. I have several times seen one fly off to a considerable distance, alight in a conspicuous place, and tumble about as if in the agonies of death, her wings flapping as if they had been fractured or dislocated. The eggs are delicious, and the young birds when fledged not less so.
“When the young are able to fly, the Plovers collect into flocks, but remain on the moors until the commencement of winter, when they advance towards the pasture lands, and in severe weather betake themselves to the low grounds near the shores. During continued frosts, they feed on the sands and rocky shores at low water, and in general during the winter remain at no great distance from the sea.
“When a flock alights at this season on a field, the individuals disperse, run about with great activity, and pick up their food. Sometimes one finds them so tame that he can approach within fifteen yards, and I have often walked round a flock several times in order to force them together before shooting. In windy weather they often rest by lying flat on the ground, and I have reason to think that at night this is their general practice. In the Hebrides I have often gone to shoot them at night by moonlight, when they seemed as actively engaged as by day, which was also the case with the Snipes; but I seldom succeeded in my object, it being extremely difficult to estimate distances at night. The numbers that at this season frequent the sandy pastures and shores of the Outer Hebrides is astonishing.