8 Redshank 



egg of the Curlew-Sandpiper was only obtained for the first time in 

 July 1895, by Mr. Popham, and I believe that his clutches still remain 

 unique. These birds are very common in autumn, and b}' no means 

 uncommon as passing visitors in the spring migration. In the winter, 

 they are all more or less grey-backed and white underneath, a colour- 

 scheme which is very protective on the mud. In the summer, 

 their beautiful chestnut breasts and red-chequered backs cause them 

 to be so obvious on the mudflats that the least observant can hardly 

 fail to notice them With these chestnut-breasted birds, as with the 

 black-breasted ones, I believe their colouration is a distinct advantage 

 to the species in the struggle for e.xistence. The parents decoy 

 away human intruders or fight their piratical enemies {e.g., the Skua 

 Gulls), while the young, which are very perfectly protected, squat in 

 safety amid their Arctic surroundings, and remain hidden as 

 long as their parents continue to utter their alarm note. There is 

 a third group of Waders which, like the others, present a grey 

 protective dress in winter, and acquire a mottled breast and brown 

 back in their breeding dress — the Stints, Sanderlings, Common 

 Redshank, Greenshank, etc., may be instanced. 



Take the well-known Redshank as an example. In winter, 

 his breast is white, his back a pretty stoney-grey and his tail crossed 

 by numerous black bands, which only show up plainly when the 

 bird is on the wing. These birds are the pest of the wildfowler. 

 Their mission in life, like the Curlew's, seems to be to act as an 

 automatic alarm to all other fowl, more especially to the flock of 

 duck and wigeon for which you have been waiting for the past two 

 hours, and are now punting towards with the flowing tide. Up gets 

 one with his loud, piercing alarm note, then another and another, 

 till, finally, every Redshank in the district is on the wing, calling 

 lustily. Even the sleepiest and tamest of Widgeon put their heads 

 up and consider the punt from a new point of view. While they are 

 still debating the question, the whole flock of Redshanks, perhaps 

 forty or fifty in number, swirl over their heads with such agonized 

 entreaties, that the Widgeon accept the advice, and make off to some 

 position of safety. The Redshank is a beautiful bird, whether you 

 meet him in winter or summer ; a fascinating object to the naturalist, 

 but he is the biggest spoil-sport going, and he is not a gi-ateful object 

 to see when you are bent on getting a shot at anything else. In 

 summer, the Redshank changes his grey back into a rich umber 

 brown, and his white breast becomes heavily streaked with black, 

 arrow-headed markings nearly down to the vent. Not only does he 

 change his clothes, but also his manners on the breeding ground. 



As you step out of the punt on to the marsh, Redshank after 

 Redshank rises and comes to meet you, sweeping by within a few 

 yards of you, and executing all kinds of fanciful aerial flights, showing 

 very distinctly their barred wing-coverts and tail. They are quite 

 fearless now. At this season, too, they possess a curious fondness 

 for perching, a habit I have never observed in winter. A favourite 



