Citizen Bird Part 52

A member of the guild of Ground Gleaners, and a fine game bird, whose delicately flavored meat is a great luxury for invalids; it is therefore right for sportsmen to shoot Golden Plovers in the fall.

"Do tell us some more about paddling and wading birds," said Dodo, forgetting that she was in her sopping-wet bathing-dress.

"Break--fast! Break--fast! Come in--come in--come in!" called the big bell that Rap's mother was ringing at the cabin door. And the morning itself was hardly brighter than the smile on her face at the sight of her lame boy's happiness. "Hurry along and dress, you little Sandpipers, for by and by we are going up the river," said the Doctor.

"Why do you call us Sandpipers, Uncle Roy?" asked Nat.

"Because Sandpipers are long-legged little birds that run along the water's edge, where they patter about and whistle, but can't swim." And they all raced laughing up to the cabin, Rap saying cheerfully, "Then I'm not a Sandpiper, for I hop like a Robin instead of running."

In the afternoon, Olaf had the sharpie (which is a flat sharp-nosed boat with two masts) ready with a little dingey tied on behind, and when the tide rose the party went aboard. First he headed well out into the bay, and then tacked to enter the river where the channel was deepest. The river, which was the same that ran through the woods above the Farm, was caught in a corner to make the mill-pond, and finally escaping, ran along for many miles until the bay opened its wide arms to receive it.

"What are those birds over there?" cried Nat, pointing toward the outer beacon. "Some look like white Crows, and the others go zigzag like big Barn Swallows. Are there any such things as water Swallows, Uncle Roy?"

"Not exactly--both the birds you see belong to the Swimmers. The larger ones are Herring Gulls, and the smaller ones are Terns. But your guess is not a bad one, for all Terns are also called Sea Swallows, because of their dashing flight. Both Gulls and Terns nest on Gull Island, where Olaf is going to take us some day when the water is smooth. The storm has driven some of them into the bay, where they do not usually come until later in the year; but in winter great flocks of Gulls live about our beach, clamming on the bar at every low tide."

"I guess we had better tie up yonder," said Olaf, when they had gone a couple of miles up the river. "And then I can put the children in the little boat and pole them in among the reeds."

So the Doctor and Olive went ash.o.r.e, where the sharpie was tied to the end of what had once been a small wharf, while Dodo, Nat, and Rap crouched down in the dingey, obeying Olaf's order to keep very still and not make the boat tip.

The little reed-bordered creek that they entered was quite narrow, and soon grew to be only a thread of water, where they could touch the reeds on both sides. They heard many rustling sounds, but for some time could see nothing. Olaf, who was watching, suddenly laid down his pole, and seizing an oar gave the water two or three sharp slaps. Instantly half a dozen strange-looking birds started out, flapping and sprawling, with their legs dangling, one or two seeming to slide across the water, till they all disappeared among the flags again.

"Oh! how funny they are!" cried Nat. "They have such foolish-looking faces, little perky tails like a Wren's, and such long, loose feet! Why didn't they fly instead of dodging about so--are their nests in the reeds?"

"They do nest here; but now that the season is over, they stay about picking up food from the mud until they shift southward a piece for the winter. These Rails fly well enough when they once get started, and go a long way without stopping. But they are lazy about it in their summer homes, where they only flap up and then dodge down again to hide; so they are easy shooting--too easy to be any sport. It's what I call killing, not hunting."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Virginia Rail.]

"What a strange note they have," said Rap. "Something like a Woodp.e.c.k.e.r's call."

"Yes, but you should hear the noise they make in spring, when there are crowds of birds along the river and back in the meadows. The Redwings and Meadowlarks sing all day long, the Marsh Wrens come along to join in, the Snipe begin to call, the Spotted Sandpipers whistle up, and we get a visit from the Wild Geese as they fly north. I tell you it is fine to be down here then. But in fall I'd rather be up at the lake by the lumber camp when the snow brings the foxes and other wild animals out."

"Do stop a minute, please, Olaf, and don't tell quite so fast," pleaded Dodo. "Uncle Roy never does. You have said the names of ever so many birds that we don't know, and when he does that he always stops and explains. Snipe and Spotted Sandpipers--please begin with those."

Olaf thought for a minute. He knew all the game and water birds--in fact, they were intimate friends of his; but it was not so easy for him to describe them.

"Did you ever see a Woodc.o.c.k?" he began.

"Yes, oh yes!" cried Nat. "Uncle Roy showed us a stuffed one in the wonder room, and told us all about its long beak with a point like a finger to feel for its food in the mud because its eyes are too far back to see well in front, and all about its sky dance; and Rap has seen one sitting on its nest in a spring snowstorm."

"Well, the Snipe that comes about here belongs to the same family, and also pokes in the mud for its food; that is why it likes to live near fresh water like the Woodc.o.c.k, where the mud is soft, rather than on the sea-sh.o.r.e, where the sand is gritty. It's a mighty shy bird and doesn't tell any one what it means to do. I've heard them come calling over the beach at night sometimes though, and I suspect they go to the muddy side of the bar to feed, but I've never seen them there. They mostly do their coming and going at night--and fly high too, even then.

"Sandpipers don't bore in the ground for their food, but just pick it up; so they keep along the sh.o.r.e of either fresh or salt water, some kinds choosing one place and some another. The Spotted Sandpiper is another of the little fellows who sometimes nests back in those meadows.

He is not a bit shy, but runs about as tame as a Robin, and he isn't as big as a Robin either. Sometimes they lay their eggs in the meadow and sometimes among the tuft-gra.s.s back of the beach. They lay four eggs, very big at one end and peaked at the other, and put them in the nest with the pointed ends together in the middle, to take up less room; and they're sandy-colored, spotted all over. They hang about here all summer. We call them 'teeters' because they always tip up their tails and bob so when they run. They whistle like this, 'tweet-weet--tweet-weet!'

[Ill.u.s.tration: Wilson's Snipe.]

"There's another mite of a Sandpiper that comes around here late every summer, though it nests way up north. It is the very littlest of all, not bigger than a Sparrow, so pretty and innocent-looking that it ought to go with Singing Birds and never be shot for food. I've often had them run along in front of me on the beach, piping as sad as if they were telling me how little and helpless they were, and begging me to ask folks not to shoot them."

Then Olaf pushed up the creek a little further, hoping to be able to land or else reach some Marsh Wrens' nests from the boat. But one nest was all they could find--a ball of gra.s.ses fastened between two cat-tail flags. Olaf cut the stalks carefully and presented it to Dodo, much to her delight. Then he paddled back to the river, where they found Olive waiting with some beautiful pitcher-plants in her hands, while their uncle said that he had in his handkerchief a strange plant, that ate insects. But Dodo thought that he was joking, and as soon as they were in the sharpie she whispered: "Uncle Roy, you must tell me four tables--Olaf knows the birds by sight, but he doesn't make them sound as distinct as you do in the telling."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Least Sandpiper.]

"So missy is flattering her old bird man! Well, tell me the names, for I suppose you can remember them."

"Oh yes--but come to think of it, I don't think Olaf said what the Wise Men call these birds. One was a bob-tailed Rail--one was a Snipe with far-back eyes and a finger-beak like a Woodc.o.c.k's--one was a Spotted Sandpiper that teeters and whistles 'tweet-weet'--and the other was a tiny little Sandpiper with a very sad cry. Now do you know them?"

"Famous!" laughed the Doctor; "of course I know them after that."

"Do they all belong to the same family?" persisted Dodo, whose little head was beginning to swim with all this new knowledge it had to hold.

"Not all of them. The Snipe and both the Sandpipers belong to one family, the same as that of the Woodc.o.c.k; but the Rail belongs to a different family. So also does the Plover you learned this morning. The three families of Snipes, Plovers, and Rails are the largest ones of all the tribe of Birds that Paddle and Wade by the sea-sh.o.r.e. The Rails from their size and shape are sometimes called Marsh Hens. The Turnstone belongs to a fourth family, but it is a very small one. Now I will give you the tables of the four kinds of birds you have learned this afternoon."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Spotted Sandpiper.]

Wilson's Snipe

Length about eleven inches, of which the very long and straight bill makes more than two inches.

Upper parts all mixed with black, brown, gray, buff, and white in very intricate patterns; long wing-feathers plain dusky with a white edge on the outside one; tail-feathers beautifully barred with black, white, and reddish.

Under parts white, but mottled with dusky on the breast, where it also tinged with buff, and barred very distinctly on each side further back; under tail-coverts barred with buff and black.

Eyes brown; feet and bill greenish-gray, the latter very soft and sensitive, the former with a very small hind toe.

A Citizen of temperate North America, found at different seasons in marshy and boggy places throughout the United States.

A member of the guild of Ground Gleaners, and, like the Woodc.o.c.k and Golden Plover, a fine game bird, which it is right to shoot for food at the proper season.

The Spotted Sandpiper

Length seven and a half inches.

Upper parts a pretty Quaker color, like the Cuckoo's, but with many fine curved black lines; tail regularly barred with black and white.

Under parts pure white, with many round black spots all over them; but young birds do not have any spots.

Bill and feet flesh-colored, the former with a black tip, the latter with a very small hind toe, and a little web at the roots of the front toes.

A Summer Citizen of most parts of the United States and Canada, also found in winter in some of the Southern States and far beyond.

A member of the guild of Ground Gleaners, and a very gentle, confiding little bird who likes to be neighborly, and should never be shot, but encouraged to nest in our fields.

The Least Sandpiper

Length only five and a half to six inches--the very least in size of all the Snipe family. Upper parts black or blackish, in summer with rusty-red edgings and white tips of many feathers, in winter these edgings gray, a light line over the eye and a dark line from the bill to the eye.