116 BULLETIN 146^ UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



turns inland before it reaches New England and flies by way of the 

 Great Lakes to the west side of Hudson Bay. The species is rare in 

 New England in the spring. 



Along the Pacific coast there is a heavy migration ; the main flight 

 appears in southern California about the middle of March, progresses 

 slowly northward, reaches Alaska about the middle of May, and ar- 

 rives on the breeding grounds in northern Mackenzie by the end of 

 May. In California the main migration route is coastwise, the bulk 

 of the flight coming in April; but John G. Tyler (1913) records 

 them as " regular spring migrants " in the interior valleys. " Their 

 favorite resorts are large, open fields where shallow ponds occur, 

 and in such places they often gather in large numbers." D. E. 

 Brown's notes record them as common, or very abundant at times, in 

 Washington, flocks of 40 or 50 birds being not at all uncommon ; his 

 dates run from April 7 to May 14. 



Nesting. — The best account of the nesting habits of this species and 

 its behavior on its breeding grounds is given us by Dr. Joseph Grin- 

 nell (1900), who found eight nests in the Kotzebue Sound region of 

 northern Alaska; he writes: 



I found the Hudsouian cuiiew to be a common breeding bird over the tundras 

 from Cape Blossom eastward into the Kowak Valley. In the vicinity of our 

 winter camp on the Kowak, the arrival of the cuVlews was on May 17. From 

 the middle to the last of June, in the Kowak delta, I became well acquainted 

 with the Hudsonian curlew. At this season they were of course mated and 

 most of them had eggs. They were ordinarily met with on the open stretches 

 of tundra, of; en where these alternate with strips of timber and lakes. Where 

 such perches are afforded, solitary birds on watch would be seen sitting on 

 the tips of isolated dwarfed spruces or even willow bushes. As soon as an 

 intruder entered the domains of a pair of curlew, the bird on watch would 

 give the alarm by a loud, ringing call note, and soon both birds would fly to 

 meet him. As long as the intruder remains in the vicinity, the pair of birds 

 keep flying restlessly to and fro, now and then alighting on the ground and 

 walking about, but most of the time keeping up their monotonous rolling 

 whistle. This was the only note I heard, except earlier in the season a long, 

 faint whistle like that of a distant locomotive, uttered by the male bird while 

 sailing slowly, on set motionless wings over the nesting grounds. This is 

 probably their song flight, though it is certainly very simple. The far-off 

 whistle, however, puzzled me for some time as to its origin. I at first thought 

 it was a steam launch on (he river somewhere, until I finally connected the 

 sound with the slow soaring of the curlew overhead. 



The eggs so closely resemble the monotonous lights and shadows of the 

 surrounding moss and grass that I have stepped directly over the nest, all 

 the while scrutinizing every foot of the ground about me, without detecting 

 the eggs. Sometimes from the nature of the surroundings the eggs are more 

 conspicuous and can be seen 10 yards or more, but this is the exception. While 

 one is at the ne.st, the parents fly close about one, almost deafening one with 

 their loud penetrating cries. If anything the male bird is the most demon- 

 strative of the two. The nest is simply a saucer-shaped depression in the 

 top of a low hummock of moss or grass. The locality was always a wet 



