JOURNAL OP MAINE ORNITHOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 



57 



One a young male taken at Jobs 

 Island, Camden, Me., Sept. 29, 1884, 

 by Mr. Chas. W. Townsend, (Auk. II, 

 p. 106). 



The second specimen, a young male 

 was taken at Westbrook, Oct. 10, 

 1888, by Mr. Ralph H. Norton, and is 

 now in the collection of the writer. 

 (Auk. XI, pp. 78-79, also Auk. X, p. 

 302). 



The third specimen is recorded by 

 Mr. Knight, ( as indeed are the other 

 two), this was taken by Mr. Fred 

 Rackliff in St.. George. ( Bds. of Me., 

 p. 104). This one was lost. 



NOTE. 



Cjlra>-iui laf'/toniciis Through the kindness of 

 Mr Fanning, my attention has been called to the fact 

 that the Langspur taken by him at Lubec was not 

 preserved, as reported on page 44 of this Journal, Vol. 

 V[. It is not extant. Neither vl r. Fanning, nor Prof 

 Stanton are in any way responsible for the error. 



FEEDING HABITS OF THE 

 TURNSTONE. 



(^Arenaria inlerpres, Linn.) 



It has been my custom for several 

 years to spend a portion of the early 

 fall among the outer islands of the 

 coast of Maine, where during the mi- 

 grations the liinicolae or shore birds as 

 they are commonly termed are quite 

 plentiful even at this late day. 



It has been my good fortune to make 

 many a good bag of the larger species 

 of this, to me, interesting family, but 

 I find of late that my inclination to 

 study the habits of these graceful, 

 pretty creatures is gradually out- 

 weighing the old desire to possess 

 them as dead game, and although I 

 build my "blind" each season as 

 usual on the same pebbly beach I find 

 the trusty hammerless rests most of 

 the time across a log, speechless and 

 almost forgotten, while with a good 

 pair of bird -glasses I am intent upon 

 watching the movements of hundreds 

 of the handsome gray and white 

 bodies moving up and down the 

 shore. 



To all nature lovers the feeding 

 habits of birds are extremely inter- 

 esting, and this is none the less true 

 of the dainty little waders whose 

 shapely limbs and immaculate plum- 

 age are kept scrupulously clean from 

 their constant ablutions in old ocean 

 and whose life-history seems more of 

 a mystery to us than those of the 

 woodland birds. 



Year after year I have located my 

 "blind," a collection of driftwood, 

 broken lobster pots and seaweed at 

 a point invariably visited, even in 

 these days of scarcity, by hundreds 

 of the smaller shore birds, together 

 with a never failing fliglit of Turn- 

 stone {Arenarja inlerpres) Linn., thOSe 

 trim yet stocky vermilion footed 

 birds of the well known upturned 

 bill, and here in the quiet and soli- 

 tude of this out of the way place I 

 have been favored with unusual op- 

 portunities for observing the feeding 

 habits of the lesser waders and par- 

 ticularly of the Turnstone. 



"Rock Bird" or "Rock Plover," the 

 natives hereabouts call them, while 

 to the city gunner they ai-e known as 

 the Chicken Plover or Calico Back. 

 Their A. O. U. cognomen is rarely 

 applied to him in his native haunts 

 and as Turnstone he is seldoni known 

 outside of the books. 



How many of our members have 

 ever had the pleasure of watching 

 Areuaria inlerpres feed utterly uncon- 

 scious of intrusion? 



When first alighting he is as mo- 

 tionless as the stone which his bright 

 hazel eye selected for a resting place, 

 and if there be any suspicious move- 

 ment in the vicinity, feeding for him 

 for the time being is out of the ques- 

 tion. But if the coast is clear and the 

 smaller fiy, the peeps, the whiting 

 and the ringnecks are busy gleaning 

 from the shore their morning or 

 noonday meal he presently descends 

 from his perch and goes about break- 

 ing his fast in a very matter of fact 

 fashion. 



As to moral character I have al- 

 ways found him a pugnacious bully 

 and woe betide the little peep or - 

 even larger bird that gets in his way. 

 He quickly lowers his chuckle head 

 and jabs them right and left with his 

 stout, sharp bill and it must hurt too, 

 for it is a formidable weapon in its 

 way and unlike the bills of the other 

 waders that associate with him on his 

 feeding ground. 



I have often seen him fight his own 

 brethren and drive away from his 

 chosen feeding place what were evi- 

 dently the younger or weaker mem- 

 bers of the flock. On one occasion I'' 

 watched a pair fight, or rather threat- 

 ening to fight, after the manner of 

 young roosters in a barnyard. They 

 would face each other with out- 



