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L /..U WAYS 
OF THE WOODCOCK. 
T N his interesting paper on the woodcock, published in 
our Natural History columns, Mr. Brewster requests 
our views on certain habits of the bird. The two points 
of especial interest are the boring and the whistle, or 
twitter, so well known to shooters, and about which such 
diverse opinions are held. 
We have only once seen the woodcock bore in the wild 
state. The bird, started by a companion, alighted within 
6 or 8ft. of where we were standing, ran a step or two, 
stopped, turned its head on one side, stood so for an in- 
stant as if listening, and then plunged its bill into the 
mud. it at once withdrew it, and raising the point of the 
bill, appeared to be swallowing, but as its back was to- 
ward us we could not see just what it did. 
We have, however, seen the woodcock bore in captiv- 
ity. The operation, which was performed with great 
: deliberation, was repeated many times, and was wit- 
nessed on several different days, being always done in 
the same manner. The bird introduced the point of his 
bill into the damp earth at an angle of about 80 degrees, 
and by a series of slow pushes buried it to the base. 
While doing this, his left foot was slightly advanced and 
his body inclined downward. When the bill was fairly 
buried, the bird stood perfectly still. He looked as if he 
were listening, and we thought it quite probable that he 
was doing so. It seemed likely also that he was feeling, 
employing both senses to detect any movement in the 
earth beneath him. The apparent sensitiveness of the 
bill in the woodcock, as in some other waders, appeared 
to us to justify the impression that the sense of touch as 
well as of hearing came into play. If the bird found no 
worm, he withdrew his bill, and again plunged it into 
the earth at a little distance further on. If a worm was 
felt, or some sound or motion indicated that one was 
near, he partly withdrew his bill, and, altering its direc- 
tion, plunged it in again and drew out the worm. The 
operation of deglutition seemed to begin as soon as the 
point of the bill touched the worm. A movement of the 
bases of the upper and lower mandibles indicated that he 
had a worm, and as the bill was withdrawn the two 
came together again and again very rapidly, and almost 
as soon as the bill was fairly clear of the earth the end of 
the worm disappeared down the bird’s throat. It ap- 
peared, when the bird made his first thrusts into the 
ground, as if they were tentative, a deliberate thrust fol- 
lowed by a moment of waiting, another thrust and then 
another wait, in all perhaps three or four motions before 
the bill was buried to its base. This slow action we took 
to be an exploration by the tip of the bill for motion in 
the earth, at first near the surface and then deeper and 
deeper. When the bird had learned that there was* a 
worm in the soil there was no hesitation. The bill was 
: buried by a sharp quick thrust, about which there was no 
uncertainty. After devouring all the worms that it 
j could, this bird commonly cleansed its bill by means of 
its feet, and then washed it in water by gently shaking 
its head. This bird, which weighed six ounces, devoured 
eight ounces of worms in twenty-four hours. 
The cause of the whistle of the woodcock has long been 
a mooted point. There is no doubt that in rising' the 
bird makes a noise with its wings, which might perhaps 
be called a whistle, but the sound to which we refer is the 
well known ringing note, as often heard in the woodcock 
cover, and which sometimes closely resembles the twit- 
ter of the kingbird. A crow, a robin, an English sparrow 
and a pigeon all make a noise with their wings, and so 
does the woodcock, but this sound, we believe, is not to be 
confounded with the other and better known note of the 
springing bird. We said last week that we believed that 
this sound was vocal, and that we could give reasons for 
this belief, which appeared to us conclusive. We came 
to this conclusion in October, years ago, when we one 
day shot a woodcock and broke its wing close to the 
body. Having a puppy at home we captured the bird 
alive in order to work the young dog on it. While at- 
tempting to catch it in our hands it ran ahead of us, now 
and then springing into the air as a wounded bird will, 
! trying to support itself on its uninjured wing, and at each 
attempt to rise from the ground whistling. To us it ap- 
peared impossible that this one wing, which from the 
circumstances could not have been moved rapidly or it 
would have turned the bird quite over, should have made 
this sound. 
At another time we captured a wing-broken bird which 
we held in the hand in the house; by a sudden spring it 
slipped from our grasp and fell to a chair, a distance of 
a foot or two. As it struggled to release itself and fell, 
it uttered the well-known whistling note. Subsequently, 
when this same bird was released on the ground before 
the young dog, it sprang into the air, using its uninjured 
wing as before, and whistling. This we have seen a 
number of times, and with many different wing-broken 
birds. Again, some of these wing-tipped birds, in the 
thick grass and weeds of a yard, have made this whistling 
when it appeared to us an impossibility for them to have 
used their wings. 
The vocal whistle of the woodcock and the whistle of 
its wings appear to us as different as the well known 
“scaip” of the Wilson’s snipe is from the whistle of its 
wings. Most snipe shooters have seen a wounded snipe 
run on the ground, constantly springing into the air and 
uttering its cry, We have never heard it questioned that 
this call of alarm was vocal, and we believe that the 
twitter or whistle of She woodcock is in the same way 
vocal. 
t. 
a*-? /- ir$f. 
VOL. XXXIII. — No. 2 . 
No 318 Broadway, New Y ork. 
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