3i2 LLOYD'S NATURAL HISTORY. 



Mediterranean and extends to Senegambia in West Africa, and 

 to the Somali coast in East Africa, its eastern winter range 

 being apparently Sind. In Eastern Siberia, east of the 

 Taimyr Peninsula, its place is taken by an allied species, Z. 

 novce zealandice, which passes in winter, by way of China and 

 Japan, as far south as Australia and New Zealand. 



Habits. The present species is by no means rare on the 

 mud-flats and tidal harbours on our coasts in autumn, and I 

 have found it either singly or in small flocks. At this time of 

 year the specimens obtained are nearly all young birds, and 

 they may be decoyed down from an immense height in the air 

 by imitating their note. I have sometimes whistled a little 

 band till they settled on the mud within twenty paces of me, 

 and they seemed so hungry as to disregard my presence 

 entirely, and begin at once to feed voraciously, digging their 

 bills down into the mud up to the hilt. I have never ob- 

 served Godwits scooping with their bills in the sand or mud, 

 or working their bills from side to side like an Avocet, as 

 described by Seebohm, though I agree with the last-named 

 writer that in its ways the Godwit is very like a Green-shank, 

 or, for that matter, any other member of the genus Totanus. 



In the spring the Godwits frequent the tidal harbours and 

 mud-flats, feeding out on the latter at low-tide, and wing 

 their way to the neighbouring fields when the tide begins to 

 flow and cover their feeding grounds. They are then very 

 wary, and fly to and fro at a considerable height, nor will any 

 amount of whistling induce them to settle within shooting 

 distance. The red-plumaged birds which I have obtained for 

 the British Museum were shot by me in May after a great deal 

 of trouble, and I only obtained them by watching their line of 

 flight to the pasture-lands, and waiting patiently till they flew 

 over. Even in the spring-time they were in companies, and quite 

 a goodly number of birds in their full nesting plumage could be 

 seen with a glass, sitting out on the fields and engaged in doz- 

 ing on one leg or preening their feathers. In autumn the young 

 birds which arrive on our coasts are exceedingly unsuspicious, 

 and they migrate right across country, for I have heard their 

 call-notes high in the air, when standing on Primrose Hill in 

 North London on a September night ; and I have also heard 

 them pass quite low down over Bournemouth in the night. 



