36 THE LONG-BILLED CURLEW. 



every instance of the kind I have found the individuals much less shy than 

 usual, and apparently more perplexed than frightened hy the sight of man. 



Until my learned friend, Prince Charles Bonaparte, corrected the 

 errors which had been made respecting the Curlews of North America, 

 hardly one of these birds was known from another by any naturalist, Ameri- 

 can or European. To Wilson, however, is due the merit of having first 

 published an account of the Long-billed Curlew as a species distinct from 

 the Common Curlew of Europe. 



This bird is the largest of the genus found in North America. The great 

 length of its bill is of itself sufficient to distinguish it from every other. 

 The bill, however, in all the species, diners greatly, according to the age of 

 the individual, and in the present Curlew I have seen it in some birds nearly 

 three inches shorter than in others, although all were full grown. In many 

 of its habits, the Long-billed Curlew is closely allied to the smaller species 

 of Ibis; its flight and manner of feeding are similar, and it has the same 

 number of eggs. Unlike the Ibis, however, which always breeds on trees, 

 and forms a large nest, the Curlew breeds on the ground, forming a scanty 

 receptacle for its eggs; yet, according to my friend Bachman, the latter, 

 like the former, places its nests "so close together, that it is almost impos- 

 sible for a man to walk between them, without injuring the eggs." 



The Long-billed Curlew spends the day in the sea-marshes, from which it 

 returns at the approach of night, to the sandy beaches of the sea-shores, 

 where it rests until dawn. As the sun sinks beneath the horizon, the Cur- 

 lews rise from their feeding-grounds in small parties, seldom exceeding 

 fifteen or twenty, and more usually composed of only five or six individuals. 

 The flocks enlarge, however, as they proceed, and in the course of an hour 

 or so the number of birds that collect in the place selected for their nightly 

 retreat sometimes amounts to several thousands. As it was my good fortune 

 to witness their departures and arrivals, in the company of my friend Bach- 

 man, I will here describe them. 



Accompanied by several friends, I left Charleston one beautiful morning, 

 the 10th of November, 1831, with a view to visit Cole's Island, about twenty 

 miles distant. Our crew was good, and although our pilot knew but little of 

 the cuttings in and out of the numerous inlets and channels in our way, we 

 reached the island about noon. After shooting various birds, examining the 

 island, and depositing our provisions in a small summer habitation then un- 

 tenanted, we separated; some of the servants went off to fish, others to gather 

 oysters, and the gunners placed themselves in readiness for the arrival of the 

 Curlews. The sun at length sunk beneath the water-line that here formed 

 the horizon; and we saw the birds making their first appearance. They 

 were in small parties of two, three, or five, and by no means shy. These 



