Plovers 



with rain drops ; or that they whistle more before storms, as 

 their German name (Regempfeifer) would imply; or that the east 

 wind that brings rain, blows flocks of these migrants in from sea ? 



Golden plovers, once so plentiful and confiding that they came 

 near enough to the plough for the farmer's boy to strike and kill 

 with his whip, were sold in the Chicago streets for fifty cents a 

 hundred within the memory of many, and those not the oldest 

 inhabitants. Dead birds propped up with sticks when the 

 wooden decoys from city shops were not available ; a dried pea 

 rattling about in a hollow reed to imitate the mellow coodle, coodle, 

 coodle of the plover's melodious call, allured the birds within easy 

 range of every farm hand's antediluvian musket. 



Plovers' visits depend much on weather, a clear, fine day 

 inviting a long, unbroken flight far out at sea during the autumn 

 migration ; whereas lowering weather, especially an easterly 

 storm, drives the birds to the coast, where, flying low, a warm 

 reception of hot shot usually awaits them from behind blinds. 

 Grassy level stretches and pasture lands back of the beaches, 

 rather than sandy places, attract them, since land insects, grass- 

 hoppers particularly, and worms are what they are ever seeking. 

 In the autumn migration, at least, the great majority of plovers 

 follow the coast, sometimes closely, sometimes far at sea, so far 

 that many flocks on their way to South America pass to the east 

 of Bermuda. Long, perfect wings and light bodies enable them 

 to cover immense distances without resting. While no fixed 

 route appears to be followed in spring, possibly the birds show 

 a preference then for the freshly-ploughed inland fields where 

 food, winged, crawling, and in the larval state, abounds. 



Among all the gaily dressed, tuneful lovers that visit us in 

 May, few are handsomer and more charming in voice and man- 

 ner than this melodious whistler. Further north he breaks into 

 a long serenade, sung chiefly in the short Arctic night : tee-lee-lee, 

 tu-lee-lee wit, wit wit, wee-u-wit, chee-lee-u-too-lee-ee, as described 

 by Wilson, who followed these plovers to Behring Sea until he 

 found their nest, that so few know. A depression among the 

 grass or moss, lined with fine grasses and dried leaves, usu- 

 ally cradles four yellowish eggs covered over with dark red- 

 dish brown spots ; but in the eggs, as in the plumage of the 

 plovers, there is great variation. Birds that lay pointed eggs, as 

 plovers do, arrange the narrow ends toward the centre of the 



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