t 
bill was thrust downward with wonderful rapidity and 
on every side in quick succession, the motion strongly re- 
sembling that of a man spearing eels. Then the bird 
would take a step or two and try again. Sometimes it 
would stop and apparently listen with . its head held 
slightly on one side, the ear directed downward. Again 
it would stamp with its feet quickly and forcibly, several 
times in succession, then hold its head very near the 
ground, evidently listening for the movements of sus- 
i pected worms beneath, for, immediately afterward, it 
twice probed rapidly and closely over the spot to which 
its ear had been applied. It rarely stood erect, and 
i moved with a skulking gait, the head drawn in between 
! the shoulders and slightly raised and lowered, with a 
nodding motion, between each step. When frightened, 
it held its tail nearly erect and spread to the utmost the 
down lower coverts, drooping beneath the tail feathers 
in a vertical, fan-shaped fringe. When undisturbed, and 
always when feeding, the tail was depressed and closed. 
Mr. Maynard told me that the bird ate half a pint of 
earth worms twice each day. 
It will be observed that during the observations just 
; recorded, I did not actually see the woodcock secure an 
earth worm; in fact, it is quite certain that of the many 
I thrusts which it made while I was watching it, none was 
successful, for I stood within a few feet of the cage into 
which a strong light penetrated freely. If I remember 
; rightly, Mr. Maynard said that no earth worms had been 
put into the cage for several hours previous to my visit, 
and that the bird had probably nearly or quite exhausted 
its last supply. Hence its ill success in boring had no 
special significance. The attitude of listening was most 
suggestive, however, and the subsequent rapid and ex- 
citing boring about the spot to which the bird’s ear had 
been applied convinced me that its stamping was simply 
for the purpose of startling the worms and inducing them 
to betray their whereabouts by the sound, however slight, 
of their movements beneath the surface. Robins listen 
in a similar way before locating and dragging forth an 
earth worm. They also sometimes stamp just before 
listening, although this action is not as vigorous and 
strongly marked on their part as it was with the wood- j 
cock. If the latter stamped for the purpose of simulat- \ 
! ing the sound of rain, and thereby inducing the worms 
! to come to the surface, why did it not, after executing 
its “war dance,” remove a step or two, or, at least, as- 
sume a position of watching instead of listening and im- 
mediately boring again? 
Fortunately it is needless to multiply arguments in 
support of this view, for Mr. Maynard actually saw his 
bird, after stamping and listening, “turn either, to the 
right or left or take a step or two forward, plunge his 
bill into the earth and draw out a worm which he would 
swallow, then repeat this performance until all the worms i 
were eaten.” (“Birds of Eastern North America,” pp. 
374, 375). Then this statement proves that the woodcock j 
is perfectly able to “withdraw a worm from the ground [ 
, with its bill,” despite “Paul Pastnor’s” incredulity on j 
that point; while taken in connection with the other facts 
and arguments above detailed, it also proves that the 
“war dance” serves — at least sometimes — the purpose 
which I have explained. 
Since writing the above I have come upon the follow- 
ing in an early number (Vol. I., No. 16, p. 251) of Forest 
and Stream: 
“Did our readers ever see a woodcock ‘boring?’ "We 
have, and this is how he did it: Once on a time we sur- 
prised one of these gentry at his matutinal occupation, 
and so intent was he that he never noticed our presence. 
We had always supposed that he thrust his long bill into 
| the moist earth and drew out his grub, snipe-fashion, 
| and swallowed it; but no, he pegged away vigorously at 
; the ground, something as woodpeckers hammer, digging 
deeper and deeper, until he actually stood on his head to 
reach the greatest depth. Then when he had one hole 
bored he began another, and so continued until he had 
| made nine, as [we ascertained by counting afterward. 
But never a worm or grub did he draw forth from sub- 
terranean sources. He had been merely preparing his j 
little stratagem, setting his traps, so to speak, and when I 
all was ready he laid down on his stomach, with his bill 
Hat to the ground, and commenced beating the perfor- 
ated earth violently with his wings. Presently a little 
worm or a grub or other insect came to the surface, and 
peeiang above the edge of one of the holes was inconti- 
nently sucked into the long protruding bill. Directly 
afterward a red well-scoured angle worm was victim- 
med— we could see it distinctly as it passed into the bill— 
and possibly others would have followed had not our 
; stupid dunderhead of a setter worked up on the scent 
and flushed the bird.” 
This note, which was apparently written by Mr. Chas. 
Hallock, the then managing editor of Forest and 
Stream, curiously confirms as well as anticipates “Paul 
Pastnor’s” observations. Although it does not mention 
the “rain” theory, it undeniably gives the latter much 
added probability. Indeed, if Mr. Hallock (?) was de- 
ceived in his impressions, . the behavior of his bird may be 
fairly regarded as proving that the woodcock some- 
times gets its food in the way that “Paul Pastnor” main- 
tains. 
Before concluding I should like to add a word about 
the whistling sound which the woodcock makes when 
flying. In your editorial remarks in the issue of July 18 
you say that you “believe that it is not made by the 
wings, and could give reasons which to us appear 
conclusive.” Will you kindly give these reasons? 
I must . confess that nothing in connection with 
the habits of this interesting bird seems to me 
surer than that its shrill silvery whistle, which so 
thrills the heart of every sportsman, is produced 
by the wings. My grounds for this conviction are: (1) 
That I have over and over again had the same experience 
as that given by your correspondent, “ H. D. N.” (Forest 
and Stream, Vol. XXXII., No. 25, July 11, 1889, p. 510), 
of shooting birds that did not whistle and finding that 
they were without the small, stiff, attenuated primary 
quills, while in no instance have I ever known a bird 
! which lacked these quills to make the least whistling- 
sound; although I do not deny — indeed, I have seen 
repeated instances of the fact— that a full-plumaged 
woodcock possessing these quills sometimes rises without 
whistling. (2) That twice upon picking up wounded 
woodcock by their bills I have had them beat their wings 
vigorously as if flying, producing at the same time the 
usual shrill whistle. One of these birds flapped so slowly 
that the whistle was not continuous, but on the contrary, 
made up of closely connected, but still separate, notes, 
each of which could be distinctly associated with a stroke 
of the wing. In both instances I held the bird's mandi- 
bles tightly together. 
Surely nothing could be more conclusive than this. 
Assuming that it settles the origin of the sound, we are 
led naturally to consider what advantage a bird derives 
from it ability to whistle with its wings, for it is an uni- 
versally-admitted law of nature that no highly specialized 
or peculiar function is developed in any animal except to 
serve some definite purpose, either of use or ornament. 
Now the attenuated primaries, as I prefer to call them, 
whistling quills, are present and equally developed in 
young as well as old birds of both sexes, and at all seasons 
excepting during the moult. It is evident, then, that 
they are not secondary sexual characters. The woodcock 
is also the only member of its family with which I am 
familiar which does not habitually and frequently utter 
some vocal whistle or call when flying. As far as is 
known the love-song already described, a harsh, night- 
hawk-like paip, made only when the bird is on the 
ground, and chiefly, if not wholly, by the male during 
the mating season, and a low put’ l, given in connection 
with the paip, are the only vocal notes which the wood- 
cock utters. Why then may not its wing- whistling serve 
the same purpose as the vocal calls of other waders, viz., 
to inform its companions of its movements and approxi- 
mate position? This, at least, has seemed to me a logical 
inference from the facts just stated. 
Cambridge, Mass. WILLIAM Brewster 
69 
