350 
The Avocet 
birds. In every case they were probably nesting in the neighborhood, || 
for by their actions they plainty expressed their displeasure at our i 
approach. At first two or three would be seen, but their cries soon |i 
brought others, perhaps their mates, who left their nests to come and ij 
help expel the intruders. With shouts of distress they circled us, or flew if 
about in the air overhead, and occasionally would alight and go bumping I 
along the ground as though injured and undergoing the most frightful * 
suffering. Sometimes they would settle in the water, where their antics 
of head-bobbing and wing-waving were most amus- J 
Behavior ing. Again they would submerge the body, and, with j 
the head laid out on the surface, would propel them- 
selves forward much as wounded wild geese will sometimes do. ‘| 
It was not given to us to find their nests that day, nor the next, but I 
shortly afterward several were discovered by Mr. Finley in this neigh- 
borhood. I ' 
The nest of the Avocet is merely a slight depression in the marsh li 
lined with grass, and there the spotted and blotched eggs are laid, and | 
the young first see the light of day. In common with other waders, the i 
little Avocets have the power of running about and picking up food very : 
shortly after they are hatched. 
I have had the good fortune of observing these birds about many of 
the lakes of the Plains, and in the mountain-valleys of the far West, and 
everywhere they have displayed the same solicitude when one approaches 
the neighborhood of their nests. 
Audubon’s 
Notes 
It is rather remarkable that so little has heretofore been written 
regarding the habits of the Avocet, and it is evident that few ornitholo- 
gists have studied them carefully since the days of John James Audubon. 
Here is a quotation from Audubon’s “Birds of North America,” 
which not only gives some intimate details of the Avocet’s life about the 
nest, but well illustrates the painstaking care with which this great artist- 
naturalist pursued his field-studies. His story deals 
with the movements of a little company of Avocets 
that he found breeding in a marsh about two miles 
from Vincennes, Indiana, in the early part of the last century. 
“On alighting, whether on the water or on the ground, the American 
Avocet keeps its wings raised until it has fairly settled. If in the water, 
it stands a few minutes balancing its head and neck, somewhat in the 
manner of the Tell-tale Godwit. After this it stalks about searching for 
food, or runs after it, sometimes swimming for a yard or so while passing 
from one shallow to another, or wading up to its body, with the wings 
partially raised. Sometimes they would enter among the rushes and 
disappear for several minutes. They kept apart, but crossed each other’s 
path in hundreds of ways, all perfectly silent, and without showing the 
least symptom of enmity toward each other, although whenever a Sand- 
piper came near, they would instantly give chase to it. 
“On several occasions, when I purposely sent forth a loud shrill 
whistle without stirring, they would suddenly cease from their rambling. 
