90 BULLETIN 142, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



Mr. Nichols says in his notes : 



When a bird gets up almost from underfoot, the scape is at times replaced 

 by a series of short, hurried notes of similar character. It is interesting to 

 find in the Wilson's snipe this imperfect differentiation of a note uttered at 

 the moment of taking wing from one uttered when in or approaching full 

 flight — as it is a condition slightly different from the calls of other more social 

 shore birds which trust comparatively little to concealment, take wing while 

 danger is still at a distance with hurried minor notes, so soft as to readily 

 escape notice, and have each a loud diagnostic flight call of much service in 

 their identification. 



The scape of the snipe has sufficient resemblance to the woodcock's peent, 

 which forms a part of the nuptial performance of that species, to leave little 

 doubt that the two are homologous (that is, of the same derivation), if we 

 assume snipe and woodcock to be related. It is, however, more analogous (that 

 is, of corresponding place or purpose) with the wing twitter of the woodcock. 

 Its harsh quality is in keeping with the voices of unrelated denisons of marsh 

 and swamp, herons, rails, frogs, etc., and the discords of close-by bog sounds 

 continually in its ears. The quality of the snipe's call contrasts sharply with 

 the peculiarly clear, mellow whistle of the black-breasted plover, for instance, 

 and ringing calls of species of similar habit, with carrying power over the 

 open distances of their haunts. The connecting series of limicoline voices, 

 through the reedy calls of such marsh-loving birds as the pectoral sandpiper, 

 leaves little doubt that there is a correlation between habitat and quality of 

 voice. 



In some notes from Alaska, he writes: 



July 17, on the slope of a low, gentle, tundra hill a little way back from 

 the shore, ahead of me a snipe fluttered up a short distance, then down ; up, 

 then down ; accompanying this performance with chup chup chup chup chup 

 chew chew chew\ chew chew. It alighted in a comparatively open space with 

 a couple of small bog holes of water, surrounded with a circle of scrub willows, 

 and here I presently flushed it again. It rose with a chape note, more muffled 

 and reedy than the ordinary Wilson snipe scape, and, curving downwind, rose 

 higher, attaining considerable elevation in the distance, as I followed it with 

 my glass. It now began to zigzag up and down, maintaining approximately its 

 position in the sky to leeward. Meanwhile I heard an unfamiliar more or 

 less whistled peep-er-weep once or twice, and an intermittent winnowing sound, 

 wish wish wish -wish wish, etc. Being uncertain as to whether these sounds 

 came from the distant snipe, or from some other bird closer at hand in the 

 air, I took my glasses off the former to look about me, and as I feared I 

 should do, lost track of it in the sky. Presently the winnowing ceased and I 

 began to hear a continuous harsh cuta-euta-cuta-cuta from over the brow of 

 the hill, which turned out to be a snipe, presumably the same one which had 

 returned, standing on top of the only stake thereabouts. 



Field marks. — The Wilson snipe should be easily recognized by 

 its long bill, its erratic flight, its conspicuous stripes, and the rufous 

 near the end of its tail. The harsh scaipe note is diagnostic. It 

 might be confused with the dowitcher, but the flight, notes, and 

 usual haunts of the latter are different. I have often thought that 

 the pectoral sandpiper resembles the snipe, as it rises from the grass, 



