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Plate XXIV.—PHILOHELA MINOR, (Gmel.) Gray.—American Woodcock.
The Woodcock is somewhat restricted in its distribution. In this respect it differs from its numerous congeneric brethren, which have a wide dispersion. It is chiefly a denizen of the eastern parts of the United States, and of the British territory immediately adjacent thereto. Fort Rice, in North-western Dakota, according to Coues, and Kansas and Nebraska in the west, seem to be the limits of its range in those directions. Although notable for its scarcity in regions beyond the Mississippi, Iowa excepted, yet it abundantly compensates therefore as we advance eastward. In the Middle and Eastern States they are probably found in greater numbers than elsewhere. While the greater bulk pass north to breed, some abide in the South, and raise their happy little families, in spite of the ardor of the climate.
Few species, if any, arrive earlier. It generally appears from the fifth to the tenth of March in New England and the Middle Atlantic States, although instances are known where birds have been observed as early as the twenty-fourth of February. These cases are, however, rare, and only happen, if at all, when the weather has been remarkably propitious for a lengthy spell. As a few of them have been known to remain all winter in Pennsylvania, and elsewhere, when the season has been fine, may not their emergence from sheltered localities, at such times, be construed by persons who are not cognizant of their presence, or of their occasional disposition to permanence of residence, as but a case of recent arrival? In view of this latter habit, it would be difficult to prove that the visitor had just come from the South, unless it had been discerned in transitu.
Having decided upon their migratory tour, they start in small companies, from four to six in number. These settle down in small tracts of country of a few rods in area on reaching their destination. Low, swampy thickets generally invite their presence. Here they conceal themselves during the day. But when night has dethroned her rival, and temporarily assumed the reins of power, they come out of their grassy retreats, and wander about in search of food. The setting of the sun behind the western hill-tops is the signal for their nocturnal rambles to begin. And well do they keep them up. For it is not until the first streak of morning is seen to glow in the East that they abandon their foragings and retire to accustomed haunts. Few there are who have visited these birds at such times. Let us take our readers to yon neighboring swamp, or by the side of some lowly woodland, which these strange beings delight to frequent. The utmost silence must be maintained, or our friends will be frightened away. While we may not be able to see the objects that have called us hither, we know they are not far away by the rustle which they produce among the dry leaves, and by the peculiar notes which they emit, for there are two or three individuals together, as they move restlessly about in the undergrowth, in their search for worms. Chip-per, chip-per, chip may be heard from the right, and almost in the next instant it is varied to bleat or bleat ta bleat ta, produced in the contrary direction, or off in the distance, showing that the authors thereof have changed their positions. While these birds have an habitual fondness for humid thickets, they not unfrequently betake themselves to corn-fields and other cultivated tracts in close proximity thereto, and even to elevated woods.
For more than a fortnight after their arrival the sexes, though feeding in company, do not apparently manifest a disposition to assume conjugal relationship. The desire for food seems to be uppermost in their minds. The inclemency of the weather, and the coldness of the ground in consequence, may have much to do with holding the amatory forces in check. But when the opportune moment arrives, which it does in the course of events, the sexes stop from their feeding, in a measure, and give the nobler instincts of their being a chance for development. The males are the first to feel the changes which are being wrought in their natures. For more than a week from this time, in the early morning and evening hours, they may be seen exercising themselves by means of "curious spiral gyrations" in mid-air, and uttering, as they descend earthwards, a note which Audubon lias likened to the word kwank. This note may be a call for the female in the spring, but as it is often uttered in the fall after the breed-ing-season is past, it may also be a summons for the gathering together of the members of the same household. The production of these sounds seems to be a labor of much effort. The movements of the bird then, must be seen to be appreciated. The head and bill are bent forward until the latter comes into contact with the ground, and, just as the sound is being emitted, the body is urged violently forward. These spasmodic exertions being over, the actor in this drama, twitches its abbreviated, halfspread tail, assumes an erect attitude of listening, and, if no response is elicited, repeats its characteristic cry, with all the accompanying movements. If the call awakes an answering note, the happy lover flies to the presence of the one he seeks, and lavishes upon her the most endearing caresses. Sometimes, as Audubon affirms, the male awaits the arrival of the loved one, and does not fly to meet her. According to the same authority, the summons seems sometimes to be replied to by one of the same sex, which is always the prelude to a fierce encounter between the two, for, on these occasions, when the feelings are in a high state of tension, the utmost enmity exists between the males. These contentions are usually shortlived, and cease with the assumption of matrimonial relations.
The happiness of the male is now complete. With his homely, but, doubtless, to him, prepossessing bride, by his side, he soon journeys off in search of a home. This is a matter of some consequence, and tasks the patience to the utmost. But their labors in this direction are eventually crowned with success. They frequent the most secluded resorts, and hide their nest away in some low, dense and swampy woods or brake, difficult of access, and one that none but the cruel collector would be likely to visit. The nest is generally placed on the ground, at the foot of a bush or tussock, in the midst of small birches or alders, or on a decayed stump or prostrate log. In some localities it is snugly nestled in the midst of a meadow. It is not an elaborate affair by any means, but merely consists of a few dried leaves or grasses which are scratched together by the female—the work of a few hours at the most.