The Avocet 343 



would be seen, but their cries soon brought others — perhaps their mates — 

 who left their nests to come and help expel the intruders. With shouts of 

 distress they circled us, or flew about in the air overhead, and occasionally 

 would alight and go bumping along the ground as though injured and under- 

 going the most frightful suffering. Sometimes they would settle in the water, 

 where their antics of head-bobbing and wing-waving were most amusing. 

 Again they would submerge the body, and, with the head laid out on the sur- 

 face, would propel themselves forward much as wounded Wild Geese will 

 sometimes do. 



It was not given to us to find their nests that day nor the next, but shortly 

 afterward several were discovered by Mr. Finley in this neighborhood. 



The nest of the Avocet is merely a slight depression in the marsh lined with 

 grass; there the spotted and blotched eggs are laid, and the young first see 

 the light of day. In common with other waders, the little Avocets have the 

 power of running about and picking up food very shortly after they are hatched. 



I have had the good fortune of observing these birds about many of the 

 lakes of the Plains, and in the mountain-valleys of the far West, and every- 

 where they have displayed the same solicitude when one approaches the 

 neighborhood of their nests. 



It is rather remarkable that so little has heretofore been written regarding 

 the habits of Avocets, and it is evident that few ornithologists have studied 

 them carefully since the days of John James Audubon. Here is a quotation 

 from Audubon's "The Birds of North America," which not only gives 

 some intimate details of the Avocet's life about the nest, but well illustrates 

 the painstaking care with which this great artist-naturalist pursued his field- 

 studies. His story deals with the movements of a little company of Avocets 

 that he found breeding in a marsh about two miles from Vincennes, Indiana, 

 in the early part of the last century. 



"On alighting, whether on the water or on the ground, the American Avocet 

 keeps its wings raised until it has fairly settled. If in the water, it stands a 

 few minutes balancing its head and neck, somewhat in the manner of the Tell- 

 tale Godwit. After this it stalks about searching for food, or runs after it, 

 sometimes swimming for a yard or so while passing from one shallow to another, 

 or wading up to its body, with the wings partially raised. Sometimes they 

 would enter among the rushes and disappear for several minutes. They kept 

 apart, but crossed each other's path in hundreds of ways, all perfectly silent, 

 and without showing the least symptom of enmity toward each other, although 

 whenever a Sandpiper came near, they would instantly give chase to it. 



"On several occasions, when I purposely sent forth a loud shrill whistle 

 without stirring, they would suddently cease from their rambling, raise 

 up their body and neck, emit each two or three notes, and remain several 

 minutes on the alert, after which they would fly to their nests, and then return. 

 They search for food precisely in the manner of the Roseate Spoonbill, moving 



