Audubon's Birds/BIRDSVER1_3.BIN/dp/0055/00552.txt

Text File | 1992-08-27 | 17KB | 261 lines

$Unique_ID{BRD00552}
$Pretitle{}
$Title{The Kildeer Plover}
$Subject{Charadriinae; Charadrius; vociferus; Kildeer Plover; Killdeer}
$Journal{Birds of America:  Volume V}
$Volume{Vol. 5:207-212}
$Family{Charadriinae}
$Genus{Charadrius}
$Species{vociferus}
$Common_Name{Kildeer Plover; Killdeer}
$Log{
Plate CCCXVII*00552p1.scf,31210027.aud
Bird Call*31210027.aud
Family*00548.txt
Genus*00549.txt
}

            (C) (P) Library of Natural Sounds; Cornell Laboratory
       of Ornithology 1990-91, 1992; Ithaca, N.Y., All rights reserved.
       Portions copyright (c) Creative Multimedia Corp., 1990-91, 1992

                       B I R D S   O F   A M E R I C A .

                    By John James Audubon, F. R. SS. L. & E.

                   ------------------------------------------
                                    VOL.  V.
                        --------------------------------


                              THE KILDEER PLOVER.
                                  [Killdeer.]


                          CHARADRIUS VOCIFERUS, Linn.
                            [Charadrius vociferus.]


                        PLATE CCCXVII.--MALE AND FEMALE.


     Reader, suppose yourself wandering over some extensive prairie, far beyond
the western shores of the Mississippi.  While your wearied limbs and drooping
spirits remind you of the necessity of repose and food, you see the moon's
silvery rays glitter on the dews that have already clothed the tall grass around
you.  Your footsteps, be they ever so light, strike the ear of the watchful
Kildeer, who, with a velocity scarcely surpassed by that of any other bird,
comes up, and is now passing and repassing swiftly around you.  His clear notes
indicate his alarm, and seem to demand why you are there.  To see him is now
impossible, for a cloud has shrouded the moon; but on your left and right,
before and behind, his continued vociferations intimate how glad he would be to
see you depart from his beloved hunting-grounds.  Nay, be not surprised if he
should follow you until his eyes, meeting the glaring light of a woodsman
traveller, he will wheel off and bid you adieu.
     The Kildeer's large eyes seem to be given it to enable it to feed by night
as well as by day.  At any time after the breeding season, this species moves in
loose flocks, seldom exceeding ten or fifteen individuals, which disperse over
the space of an acre or two of ground.  Yet some one of them always acts as a
sentinel, for standino, erect to the full stretch of its les, it carefully
watches all the moving objects around, as far as its eye can reach.  Cows,
horses, or sheep are none of its enemies, and among them it will seek for food;
but let a man, or a dog, or any other animal bent on destruction, $hew himself,
and that instant the bird runs swiftly with a querulous note, and should any of
these his enemies evince the least disposition to molest it, its beautiful wings
and tail are spread, and away it goes, cheerily calling to its companions to
follow.
     The Kildeer is by most people called a "noisy bird and restless."  Now to
me it is any thing but this, unless indeed when it is disturbed by the approach
or appearance of its enemies, more particularly man, of whom indeed few wild
birds are fond.  Watch them from under some cover that completely conceals you,
and you will see them peaceably and silently follow their avocations for hours.
In this respect the Kildeer resembles the Lapwing of Europe, which is also
called a restless and noisy bird, because men and dogs are ever in pursuit of
the poor thing, which after all its vigilance often falls a prey to the
sportsman, who condemns it merely because it endeavours to draw him from its
nest or young.  During winter, when undisturbed, the Kildeer is in fact an
unusually silent bird.  In Louisiana, where it breeds and resides at all
seasons, it has obtained the naine of "Piallard," so strongly rooted are old
prejudices.
     The Kildeer, or more properly "Kildee," so named on account of its note,
which may be imitated by the syllables kildee, kildee, dee, dee, dee, appear in
much greater numbers in the interior than along the coast.  Few are seen in the
State of Maine; none, I believe, in Nova Scotia, any more than in Newfoundland
or Labrador.  Inland, however, these birds remove to a great distance north.
Unless during winter, in fact, this species is not wont to approach the shores
of the sea, but prefers the newly ploughed fields, the banks of clear rivers, or
the elevated worn-out grounds of the interior.  Few winter to the cast of
Boston, while during the cold season they abound in the Southern States,
although thousands spend the most rigorous months in the Western Country.  In
the Floridas, Georgia, and South Carolina, you find them dispersed through the
sugar, cotton and rice fields; and now they are so gentle and so silent, that
you can hardly conceive why they should be called noisy birds.  Around the
pools, upon the marshes, and along the oyster-beds at low tides, as well as on
the extensive mud-flats, you will then meet with them diligently searching for
food, and not neglecting to watch you with distrust.  Even in the coin-fields
and in company with Doves and Grakles, or by the side of some strolling
Partridge, you may now and then spy the Kildeer.  At this period I have
sometimes got so near to it that I could clearly see the pale red margin of its
beautiful eye.  The bird would perhaps run a few steps, when suddenly checking
its course, it would stand still, erect and rigid.  Should I level my gun in
jest, he would that instant fly off low over the ground, removing to the
distance of a hundred yards, alight running as it were, advance twenty or thirty
steps more, and then stand still.  I would now again approach it as before.
Never try it the third time, reader, the Kildeer will denounce you as an enemy.
It will stretch its wings, fly across a river or field, and leave you to amuse
yourself as you may.  Many a time have I been thus treated.
     The flight of the Kildeer is strong and rapid, and is at times protracted
to a great distance.  It skims quite low over the ground, or plays at a great
height in the air, particularly during the love season, when you may see these
birds performing all sorts of evolutions on wing.  On the ground their speed is
such that it has become proverbial, and to "run like a Kildee," is to move with
the utmost possible agility.  Their ordinary posture when standing, might be
called stiff, were they not so beautiful in form and colouring.  When pursued
over a large space, they are able to lead you from one spot to another more than
twenty times in the course of an hour; and the more you follow them, the more
shy do they become, until wearied and hungry, as the fox said of the grapes, you
will probably begin to think them poor and insipid after all.
     Now you see the Kildee wading in the water, and observe how it splashes it
about.  Down it lays itself, and with fluttering wings, seems to enjoy the sight
of the drops trickling over its silky back.  Now dripping and almost soaked to
the skin, it retires to the warm earth, to dry its plumage and clear it of
insects.
     This species breeds in Louisiana about the beginning of April; in the
Middle States a full month later, as well as in the Western Country and farther
north.  Not one, however, has ever been found breeding in the low lands of South
Carolina, although these birds remain there until the beginning of May.  The
nests are various, some being merely a hollow scooped in the bare ground, while
at other times the Kildee searches for a place on the edge of a pond, forms a
hollow, and constructs a nest of grass, at the foot of a thick bunch of plants.
Now and then small pebbles and fragments of shells are raised in the form of a
rim around the eggs, on which the sitting bird is seen as if elevated two or
three inches.  WILSON saw nests of this kind; so have I; and the circumstance
appeared as strange to me as that of the birds not breeding in the low lands