UPLAJTD PLOVER 57 



How many passed unheard in the darkness there was no way to know. The 

 calling of these birds when in northward migration was a phenomenon of 

 common knowledge in Tucuman during that season in the year, but all com- 

 mented upon the fact that the birds seemed to have decreased greatly in 

 abundance in recent years. 



The earliest birds reach Texas and Louisiana early in March. 

 Illustrating the abundance of this species in Texas 40 years ago, 

 G. B. Benners (1887) says: 



At the former place we found immense flocks on the prairie, and they were so 

 tame that the flock would part in the middle and let \is drive between them. 

 We often shot enough birds while going through a flock in this way to last for 

 several meals. When they thought we did not see them they would stand per- 

 fectly still, and being the same color as their surroundings they easily escaped 

 detection. 



From there the main migration route seems to be directly north- 

 ward between the Mississippi River and the Rocky Mountains. 

 Fred J. Pierce writes to me : 



On my rambles over the rolling country of Buchanan County, Iowa, in the 

 early spring, I usually hear the Bartramiau sandpiper and see the small speck 

 high in the sky that I know is his form. -A damp, cloudy morning seems to be 

 the preferred time for the bird's sky circling, but it may be found frequently in 

 the early morning, too. Cloudy days are the days which it enjoys most, it 

 appears. 



Edward S. Thomas tells me that he has seen it in Ohio as early as 

 March 26, but that the average date of arrival is April 2. It is not 

 recorded east of Cuba in the spring, but some birds migrate across 

 from Yucatan to Cuba and Florida and then up the Atlantic coast. 

 When this species bred more commonly in New England it used to 

 arrive in April, but now it is very rare here. 



Courtship. — The courtship flight song of the upland plover is well 

 described in some notes sent to me by Fred J, Pierce, as follows : 



The bird's song is very interesting, but it is given little attention in books 

 relating to ornithology. On still wings, these large birds circle slowly about, 

 usually so high as to be mere specks in the sky, and give their shrill, penetrating 

 whistle, which will carry nearly a mile, depending upon the wind and the alti- 

 tude of the whistler. First there are a few notes sounding like water gurgling 

 from a large bottle, then comes the loud xoliip-icliee-ee-you, long drawn out and 

 weirdly thrilling. When I first heard this strange cry I at once thought of 

 some species of hawk as being the author of it, and I have known others to 

 think the same thing. It is too loud and penetrating a cry to be attributed to 

 one of the sandpipers. I have heard the bird whistling in this manner as late 

 as July, but I do not believe that this is a common practice. On more than one 

 occasion I have seen the bird, after circling at such height as to be almost out 

 of sight, close its wings and shoot to earth like a falling stone. This thrilling 

 performance is similar to that of the prairie horned lark, which takes a head- 

 first drop to earth when it has finished singing its contribution to the usual 

 spring morning chorus. 



