Part 23

LONG-BILLED CURLEW

HABITS

One can not see this magnificent bird for the first time without experiencing a thrill of enthusiasm for the largest, one of the most interesting and notable of our shore birds, one that seems to embody more than any other the wild, roving spirit of the vast open prairies. Its large size, its long, curving bill, the flash of cinnamon in its wings, and above all, its loud, clear, and prolonged whistling notes are bound to attract attention. In its former abundance this species must have been a most striking feature of the western plains, as it flew in large wedge-shaped flocks in full cry. The last of the great open prairies are rapidly disappearing; and with them are going the curlews, the marbled godwits, the upland plover, the longspurs, and a host of other birds that can not stand the encroachments of agriculture.

The long-billed curlew formerly bred over a large portion of central North America, including all of the prairie regions, at least as far east as Michigan and Illinois, and probably Ohio. But, with the settling of the country and the disappearance of the prairies, it has been gradually driven farther and farther west, and even there into a more and more restricted range. It seems to me that we can hope for its survival only on the maintenance of large, open ranges as grazing lands for cattle where it still continues to breed.

It was apparently quite common as a migrant in New England up to about the middle of the last century. The birds seen here were probably migrants from the more eastern prairies. The numerous citations given by Edward H. Forbush (1912) show its gradual decline, until now it is only a rare straggler anywhere on the Atlantic coast. In Audubon’s time it was abundant in winter and as a migrant on the coasts of Florida and South Carolina. I have never seen one during my various seasons in Florida and Arthur T. Wayne (1910) says:

Since 1885 is has been supplanted by the Hudsonian curlew (N. hudsonicus), which is still exceedingly abundant during the spring and autumn migrations. From 1879 to 1885, americanus was to be found in the immediate vicinity of Charleston, but its numbers steadily diminished year after year until at the present time it is so rare that it is seldom seen; in fact I have not seen one since September 23, 1899. Audubon, in his Birds of America, states, upon the authority of Doctor Bachman, that this curlew “breeds on the islands on the coast of South Carolina, and it places its nests so close together, that it is almost impossible for a man to walk between them without injuring the eggs.” It may appear hypercritical to question Doctor Bachman’s statement that this species bred on the coast islands, but the eggs were not described by either Audubon or himself, and as far back as 1879 there were no eggs of N. americanus in the Charleston Museum, while the eggs of the “Stone Curlew” (Catoptrophorus semipalmatus) were well represented and were classified as eggs of the long-billed curlew, I have been unable to obtain any evidence, even from the “oldest inhabitants,” that this species ever bred anywhere on the South Carolina coast.

Dr. Thomas S. Roberts (1919) says of its status in Minnesota:

As late at least as 1883 it was still breeding in southern Jackson County (J. W. Preston) and Gleason saw a single bird of this species near Euclid, Polk County, on June 17, 1897, which at that date may be assumed to have been a breeding bird. This report of Gleason’s is the very last record of the long-billed curlew in Minnesota known to the writer. It ceased to be generally abundant somewhere about 1880 and rapidly decreased in numbers, even as a migrant, until it disappeared entirely about the close of the last century.

It apparently ceased to breed in Illinois before 1880; the last published breeding record was in 1873. It probably still breeds in the interior of Texas and perhaps on the coastal prairies as well, for J. J. Carroll writes to me that on July 9 and 10, 1926, he saw 8 or 10 long-billed curlews near Matagorda Bay that acted as if they had young. It is now a very rare bird at any season east of the Mississippi River.

Spring.--The spring migration is now a general northward movement throughout the western half of the United States; there was formerly a heavy flight up the Atlantic coast as far as the Carolinas and a straggling flight farther north. The migration begins in March, but the main movement is during April and most of the birds reach their breeding grounds in April. Only one of my correspondents in Manitoba and Alberta mentions the long-billed curlew and he has seen only one in 15 years; so it must be disappearing very rapidly there.

Courtship.--The spring behavior of these curlews, or what might be called a nuptial flight is thus described by P. M. Silloway (1900):

After their arrival, the curlews inhabit the high, dry prairies, flying restlessly from one portion to another, showing a tendency to associate in pairs, though as couples, these birds are not inseparable. In the mating season, one of the pair is likely to follow the other in a few moments, when the first bird has flown far over the prairie to a more distant station. At any time the loud, prolonged whistling of these birds, either when on the ground or a-wing, will call attention to their movements, warning the disturber of their domain that his presence is known and that his actions will be watched with the closest interest.

One of the pleasing sights to the ornithologist in watching the behavior of these curlews is seen when a pair are sailing upward in company abreast of the wind, moving in perfect accord on widespread, motionless pinions curved gently downward, within several feet of each other, then fluttering downward side by side or one in advance of the other, again to sail upward, uttering the characteristic whistles.

Nesting.--The long-billed curlew is likely to nest almost anywhere on the boundless prairie, though we have found it, in Saskatchewan, showing a decided preference for damp, grassy hollows in the prairie, or long slopes near the lakes or watercourses. The nest is a very simple affair, a slight hollow in the ground, usually thinly lined with grasses or weeds; but sometimes quite a substantial platform of grass is made and slightly hollowed. The female is often quite conspicuous, as she sits on the nest with her neck stretched out on the ground, and can sometimes be seen at a distance of 100 feet; she usually sits very closely and can sometimes be approached within 8 or 10 feet before flushing.

In some notes sent to me by A. O. Treganza, from Box Elder and Weber Counties, Utah, he says that in one “particular locality (Weber County) the birds seem to be quite gregarious, possibly due to food conditions. While there are many square miles of what seems to be similar country, they seem to have chosen a very small area in which to breed.” Here he found sometimes two females sharing the same nest, resulting in sets of from five to eight eggs. In other localities, in Box Elder County, they do not seem to be at all gregarious. In one instance he found four eggs of the western willet and one of the curlew in a nest, with both the willet and curlew on guard.

P. M. Silloway (1903) has had some extensive experience with the nesting of the long-billed curlew in Fergus County, Mont. Some of his nests were on the high dry prairie a long way from any water, but most of them were in such situations as I have described above. Several of his nests were in depressions beside dried cow dung, where, perhaps, the bird was not quite so conspicuous; and chips of dried cow dung often entered into the composition of the nest. In a typical nest “the cavity was 8 inches across and 2 inches deep. The brim of the nest was elevated an inch and a half above the surroundings.” He has written (1900 and 1903) some interesting accounts of his experiences in hunting for nests, and sums up the behavior of the birds as follows:

The male curlew is a most jealous guardian of the premises near the nest. When the female is sitting on her eggs, the male will denote a watchful interest in the movements of anyone who is within several hundred yards of the nest. At such times he will come flying from some quarter of the pasture, and with angry cackling will alight near the disturber, impatiently feeding and watching the movements of the one threatening the peace of his household. If the observer approaches nearer the nest the male will begin to fly at him in a straight course, turning upward abruptly with a loud whiff of wings when it stems that the disturber must certainly be struck by the determined defender of his home. The nest may still be more than a hundred yards beyond the observer. In the majority of instances it lies ahead in the line the male points in his flight. As the disturber gets nearer, the male shows more distress and flutters wildly overhead, flying at the disturber from every direction, though not from long distances as before. All the while the female is sitting unconcerned on her eggs, indifferent to the angry and distressed cackling of her spouse. Perhaps by this time a half dozen or more other males have joined in the outcry, and frequently one of these allies will try to mislead the disturber.

The female sits very closely upon her eggs, flattening herself upon them in such a manner that she resembles a dead chicken lying on the ground. When flushed from the nest she will fly low for 30 or 40 feet or flutter from the nest and run awkwardly for a short distance, feigning to be crippled. Frequently she will lower her head, with bill almost touching the ground, and run along in a shamefaced manner. Before the nest is discovered the males who are aiding to mislead the observer will sometimes act in this shamefaced way.

Eggs.--Four eggs are ordinarily laid by the long-billed curlew, occasionally five; as many as eight have been found in a nest, evidently the product of two females. The eggs vary in shape from ovate to short ovate or ovate pyriform, sometimes quite rounded; and they have a slight gloss. The prevailing ground colors are in various shades of “olive buff”; but some dark types are “ecru olive,” some green types are “seafoam green” and some are as pale as buffy white. The eggs are generally quite evenly spotted, some very thickly and some very sparingly, with various shades of brown and olive, “Van-dyke brown,” “bister,” “snuff brown,” “buffy brown,” and “buffy olive,” with numerous underlying markings in various shades of “brownish drab” and “drab gray.” A very handsome set has a rich buff ground color, between “honey yellow” and “chamois,” uniformly covered with small spots of rich browns, “Sudan brown” to “russet.” The measurements of 68 eggs average 65 by 45.8 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure =72= by 48, 70 by =48.5=, =56= by 43.5, and 62.5 by =42= millimeters.

Young.--Incubation is said to be shared by both sexes; its exact duration does not seem to be recorded, but for the European curlew it is said to be 30 days. Both birds are certainly very solicitous in the care of the young. We were too late for eggs in Saskatchewan, but we found three broods of young. On June 1, 1905, we found two small young curlews, hardly able to walk, in a grassy hollow in the prairie; the old birds gave us a great exhibition of parental solicitude, flying about, alighting on the ground near us and making a great outcry. Their loud cries brought a third curlew which joined in the chorus of whistling cries.

When large enough to run, the young are adepts in the art of hiding; they seem to disappear entirely, even in the short grass; after hunting carefully for fully half an hour, over a limited area where we had seen one vanish, we gave it up and walked away, when we were surprised to see the youngster get up and run away from the very spot we had been hunting hardest.

Probably the mortality among young curlews is rather high, as they have many enemies. All three of the broods we found contained only two young. The parents have to work hard to preserve even this average. We saw an interesting exhibition of parental strategy one day, which probably succeeded in saving some young curlews from the jaws of a prowling coyote. The curlew was decoying the coyote away by feigning lameness, flopping along the ground a few yards ahead of him, but always managing to barely escape him. We watched them for some time until they finally disappeared over a hill, fully half a mile from where we first saw them.

Plumages.--The young curlew, when first hatched, is completely covered with long, thick, soft down. The color varies from “warm buff” on the breast and flanks, to “cream buff” on the face, upper parts and belly and to “cream color” on the throat; the crown is even paler. The markings, which are brownish black in color, consist of a broken and narrow median stripe on the forehead, irregular spotting on the posterior part of the head and large, bold, irregular spotting on the back, wings, and thighs. In older birds the bright buffs fade to paler shades.

I have seen no specimens showing the change from downy to juvenal plumage. The latter is very much like that of the winter adult, but it is somewhat more tawny, especially below, and the streaks on the neck and breast are fewer and narrower. The first winter plumage is apparently a continuation of the juvenal, subject to some wear and fading, and with very little molting. By spring young birds are practically indistinguishable from adults.

Adults have a complete postnuptial molt from August to November, most of which is accomplished in September and October, including the wings. The prenuptial molt, which involves the body plumage, most of the scapulars, many wing coverts and the tail, is prolonged through the spring, from February to June.

Food.--On their breeding grounds, and to a large extent in their winter quarters, these curlews are upland feeders, far out on the open prairies, in the damp, grassy hollows, or about the edges of prairie sloughs or ponds. But on migrations they are often seen feeding on ocean beaches or about the shores of large lakes. I have seen them on the beaches of southern California feeding at the surf line in company with marbled godwits. They were wading out into the retreating waves, picking up some small objects about an inch long or less, probably mollusks. They seemed to experience some difficulty in properly grasping the morsel with the tips of the long mandibles, but when once started right they handled it very skillfully, as the shell seemed to travel swiftly up the long bill and into the mouth. They are said to probe in the soft sand to the full extent of the long bill, but I did not see them do this.

C. W. Wickersham (1902) has described the food and the feeding habits of the long-billed curlew very well as follows:

Crawfish, small crabs, snails, periwinkles, toads, worms, larvae, grasshoppers, crickets, beetles, caterpillars when found on the ground, spiders, flies, butterflies, and berries, especially dewberries, all play minor or major parts in their diet. The worms, larvae, etc., are pulled out of the ground by the long bill, the end of which may act as a finger having separate muscles to control it, and often it is sunk into the ground as far as it will go to reach some unwilling victim. The crustaceans are taken on the beach, or, discovered beneath the surface by the probing bill, are pulled out and eaten. The berries are neatly picked off the bushes, while butterflies and other insects are taken on the wing.