Between the Tracks 
By GERALD ALAN ABBOTT 
With a photograph by the author 
URING the spring migration, Waders patrol the beach along Muskrat 
D Creek. Twittering and waltzing, the American Dunlins, Solitary and 
Spotted Sandpipers, track nervously over the mud-bars in search of 
animal life. Four hundred yards to the south, the slough grass affords ample 
protection for those peculiarly retiring birds, the Rails. Occasionally they 
expose themselves while passing from one clump of vegetation to another. Their 
broad footholds, caused by the spread of three lengthy toes, enable them to tread 
over treacherous places too shaky for man. 
Between the tracks is a growth of sumach, willow, alder, hazel and briar. 
This is a rendezvous for that “Owl among Snipe,”’ the Woodcock. Dozens 
of these ‘Bog-suckers’ are in this undergrowth every March and October. Many 
are transients, making their summer home in more northerly latitudes. 
The residents begin to nest shortly after their arrival, and, on cloudy days, 
or before and after sunrise, the atmosphere resounds with whistling wings and a 
peculiar twitter of the cocks. Spiral ascensions, accompanied with a tremor of 
wings, take the bird to a height of over one hundred feet. During this paroxysm, 
the vocal cords are exerted to the full extent. The descent is a series of zig-zag 
swoops, and the male alights within a few feet from where he arose. The object 
of his affection is apt to be within close proximity, and is modestly pruning her 
feathers or complacently squatting on her four yellowish brown eggs. 
The Woodcock does not hesitate to venture close to the habitation of man. 
In one of our suburban towns, a Woodcock chose a clump of bushes in the rear 
yard of a private residence. Suburbanites living in the timbered sections about 
Chicago are well-to-do people, and their lawns and grounds are well irrigated 
or watered. The Woodcock likes this, and he sallies forth after the shadows 
of night have fallen, and feeds in the mellow soil under the sprinkler or by the 
hydrant. 
Last spring, I invited a friend to tramp along Muskrat Creek and, leaving 
him to doze on a bed of buttercups, I took up the trail of a Woodcock. Under a 
clump of poplars the leaves were disturbed, and close inspection disclosed several 
signs of my favorite wader. Close to a cow-path I found the male sitting on the 
nest, beside a weather-beaten stump and with a south exposure. The shadow 
fell evenly across the bird’s back, and the effect of the color scheme, or “pro- 
tective coloration” was splendid. I could determine the sex of the bird, because 
the females are slightly larger. Next time I visited the nest the other bird was 
incubating, and she looked to be fully an inch longer than her mate. 
The domestic life of the Woodcock is very impressive, despite the fact that 
the birds themselves are comical-looking. Even the mother bird, while leading 
her young through the brush, presents a laughable appearance. The eyes are 
(105) 
