Of these families, the most remarkable are the Curlew, numenius; the Godwit, limosa; the Sandpiper, tringa; the Tattler, totanus; the Plover, charadrius; the Snipe, scolopax; the Turnstone, strepsilas; the Sanderling, calidris; the Avoset, recurvirostra; and the Stilt, himantopus; all of which at some period of the year are visiters or temporary inhabitants of some portion of the Atlantic shores of North America, from the Bay of Boston to the Belize.
In the tepid waters of Florida, the great bay of Mobile, the sea lakes of Borgne and Pontchartrain, and all along the muddy shoals and alluvial flats of the lower Mississippi, these aquatic races dwell in myriads during the winter months, when the ice is thick even in the sea bays of the Delaware and Chesapeake, and when all the gushing streams and vocal rivulets of the Northern and Middle States, are bound in frozen silence. In the spring, according to the temperature of the season, from the middle of April until the end of May, these migratory tribes begin to visit us of the northern shores, from the Capes of the Chesapeake, along all the river estuaries, sea bars, lagoons, and land-locked bays, as they are incorrectly termed, of Maryland and Delaware, the Jersey shores and the Long Island waters, so far as to Boston Bay, beyond which the iron-bound and rugged nature of the coast deters them from adventuring, in the great flights with which they infest our more succulent alluvial shores and sea marshes.
With the end of May, with the exception only of a few loitering stragglers, wounded, perhaps, or wing-worn, which linger after the departure of their brethren, they have all departed, steering their way, unseen, at immense altitudes, through the trackless air, across the mighty continent, across the vast lakes of the north, across the unreclaimed and almost unknown hunting-grounds of the red man, to those remote and nearly inaccessible morasses of the Arctic Regions whither the foot of man has rarely penetrated, and where the silence of ages is interrupted only by the roll of the ocean surf, the thunderous crash of some falling iceberg, and the continuous clangor of the myriads and millions of aquatic fowl, which pass the period of reproduction in those lone and gloomy, but to them secure and delightful asylums. Early in the autumn, or, to speak more correctly, in the latter days of summer, the Bay birds begin to return in hordes innumerable, recruited by the young of the season, which, not having as yet indued the full plumage of their respective tribes, are often mistaken by sportsmen and gunners, unacquainted with the distinctions of natural history, for new species. During the autumn, they are much more settled and less restless in their habits than during the spring visit, when they are impelled northward by the irresistible æstrum, which at that period stimulates all the migratory birds, even those reared in confinement and caged from the nest, to get under way and travel, whither their wondrous instinct orders them, in order to the reproduction of their kind in the localities most genial and secure.
Throughout the months of August and September, they literally swarm on all our sand-bars, salt meadows, and wild sea marshes, feeding on the beaches and about the shallow pools left by the retiring tide, on the marine animalculæ, worms, aquatic insects, small crabs, minute shell-fish, and fry; after this time, commencing from the beginning of October, they move southward for winter quarters, although some species tarry later than others, and some loitering individuals of all the species linger behind, until they have assumed their winter garniture, when they are again liable to be mistaken for unknown varieties.
Of these misnamed Bay Snipe, the following are the species of each family most prized by the sportsman and the epicure, all of which are eagerly pursued by the gunner, finding a ready sale at all times, although, me judice, their flesh is for the most part so oily, rank and sedgy, that they are rather nauseous than delicate or palatable. Much, however, depends on the state of their condition, the nature of the food on which they have fattened, and localities in which they feed; and to some persons the very flavor, of which I complain as rank, sedgy and fishy, appears to take the guise of an agreeable haut gout.
The Red-breasted Sandpiper, Tringa Icelandica, known on the Long Island waters, among the small islets of which it is very abundant, as the “Robin Snipe,” by which name it is generally called, owing to the resemblance of its lower plumage to that of the Red-breasted Thrush, or Robin, Turdus migratorius, of this continent. In autumn this bird assumes a dusky gray upper, and white under, plumage, and is then termed the “White Robin Snipe.” In point of flesh it is one of the best of the Shore-birds. It is easily called down to the decoys by a well simulated whistle, and is consequently killed in great numbers.
The Red-backed Sandpiper, Tringa Alpina, generally known as the “Black-breasted Plover.” It is a restless, active and nimble bird, flies in dense bodies, whirling at a given signal; and at such times a single shot will frequently bring down many birds. In October it is usually very fat, and is considered excellent eating. In its autumnal plumage it is generally known to fowlers as the “Winter Snipe.”
The Pectoral Sandpiper, Tringa pectoralis. This is a much smaller, but really delicious species, particularly when killed on the upland meadows, which it frequents late in the spring and early in the summer, and on which I have killed it lying well to the dog, which will point it, while spring snipe shooting. On Long Island it is known as the “Meadow Snipe,” or “Short Neck;” on the Jersey shores, about Egg Harbor, where it sometimes lingers until the early part of November, it is called the “Fat Bird,” a title which it well merits; and in Pennsylvania, where it occurs frequently, is often termed the “Jack Snipe.” It is these blunders in nomenclature, and multiplication of local misnomers, which render all distinctions of sportsmanship so almost incomprehensible to the inhabitants of distant districts, and so perplexing to the youthful naturalist. During the autumn of 1849 I killed the Pectoral Sandpiper in great numbers, together with the American Golden Plover, Charadrius Marmoratus, and the Black-bellied Plover, Charadrius Helveticus, on the marshes of the Aux Canards river, near Amherstberg, in Canada West, in the month of September, and a month later at Montgomery’s Pool, between lakes Simcoe and Huron.
Of the Tattlers, three only are in repute as shore-birds, the best of the species, the Bartramian Tattler, Totanus Bartramius, better known as the “Upland Plover,” which is, in fact, with scarcely an exception, the most delicious of all our game-birds, being a purely upland and inland variety, and as such never, or but extremely seldom, shot on the coast.
These three are,