The Long-billed Dowitcher 



Taken near Santa Barbara 



AT HIGH TIDE 

 LONG-BILLED DOWITCHERS ON PROTECTED WATER 



Photo by the A nthor 



even though the cabinets at home be already groaning with Peep nega- 

 tives. Killdeers in the offing are shouting their imprecations and warn- 

 ings, for nothing so delights the Killdeer's heart as to stampede the small 

 fry in the face of pretended danger, and so be looked up to as a leader and 

 a savior. But among those who wait and heed him not, the gentle 

 Dowitcher is preeminent. He is very much occupied just now in jabbing 

 holes in the soft muck. I had the curiosity one day to count the number 

 of jabs made per minute: one bird delivered seventy-five, and another a 

 hundred. This count included the minor thrusting motions made in each 

 hole, as well as new prospects started. But the minute, as reckoned, was 

 elapsed time, and included, besides the hundred thrusts, all moments 

 spent in devouring prey and in pausing to take new bearings. Another 

 bird drilled thirty new holes each minute. 



When more closely pressed, the Dowitcher pauses and gravely consid- 

 ers, with motionless beak. He remarks, Quit up to a fellow, and scuttles 

 away a foot or so, pausing again, or resuming busily. If driven to flight, 

 the Dowitchers close ranks instantly and move off in unison like Sandpi- 

 pers, now wheeling sharply and flashing white underparts, now tacking so 

 that their brown backs are scarcely visible against the dun wastes of sali- 

 cornia. While never a noisy bird, there are always a few in a flock to make 

 mellow comment or protest, clip r teeoo or cleeu koo, koo, unexpectedly 

 Tattler-like. 



1225 



