Nov., 1900] BIRDS OF THE KOTZEBUK SOUND RKGION. 27 



Actitis viacnlaria (L,inn.). 

 Spotted Sandpiper. 



The vSpotted Sandpiper was tolerably common in the Kowak Valley and 

 undoubtedly nested, though I did not succeed in finding any eggs. The birds 

 were invariably seen at the water's edge, and only along the larger rivers. Dur- 

 ing our steamer trips up and down the Kowak, this species was often started from 

 the shores, and the characteristic flight and metallic 'peet-weet,' as they skimmed 

 over the water around the next bend in the river, were unmistakable. The 

 last in the autumn were seen on the 20th of August, and the first in the spring 

 appeared on May 22nd. 



Ni(mcnius Juidsonicns lyath. 

 HuDSONiAN Curlew. 



This was the only species of curlew detected in the Kotzebue Sound and 

 Kowak River regions. As they came under the head of game for our mess, and 

 consequently many were shot, I had opportunity for examining considerable num- 

 bers of specimens. Strange to say, among these I failed to find a single Kskimo 

 Curlew {Numenms borealis), although Nelson says of this latter species: "This is 

 the most abundant curlew in Northern Alaska, especially along the coa.sts of 

 Bering Sea and Kotzebue Sound." I found the Hudsonian Curlew to be a com- 

 mon 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 

 curlews was on May 17th. 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, often 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, tlie 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 walk- 

 ing about, but most of the time keeping up their monotonous, rolhng 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 finst thought it was a steam launch on the river 

 somewhere, until I finally connected the sound with the slow soaring of the curlew 

 overhead. I learned how to find the nests, by selecting an inconspicuous position 

 and patiently watching a pair of curlew, whose unsettled actions plainly indie, ti-d 

 that there was a nest in the vicinity. After I had remained quiet for .some time, 

 the birds would calm down and be seen silently walking about over the moss. It 

 was often difficult to keep track of both birds, as they would be likely to alight a 

 long distance from each other and perhaps 200 yards from the observer. Finally 

 one of the birds would disappear, and it was seldom that I had noticed exactly where 

 it was last seen, though of course I knew the general direction. I would then get up 



