<p><span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></SPAN></span></p>
<h2>FEBRUARY: THE WOODCOCK</h2>
<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">There</span> are many reasons why the
woodcock should be prized by the
winter sportsman more than any other bird
in the bag. In the first place, there is its
scarcity. Half a dozen to every hundred
pheasants would in most parts of the country
be considered a proportion at which none
could grumble, and there are many days on
which not one is either seen or shot. Again,
there is the bird's twisting flight, which,
particularly inside the covert, makes it
anything but an easy target. Third and last,
it is better to eat than any other of our wild
birds, with the possible exception of the
golden plover. Taking one consideration with
another, then, it is not surprising that the
first warning cry of "Woodcock over!"
from the beaters should be the signal for a
sharp and somewhat erratic fusillade along
the line, a salvo which the beaters themselves
usually honour by crouching out of harm's
way, since they know from experience that
even ordinarily cool and collected shots are<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></SPAN></span>
sometimes apt to be fired with a sudden zeal
to shoot the little bird, which may cost one
of them his eyesight. According to the poet,</p>
<center>"Lonely woodcocks haunt the watery glade;"</center>
<p class="noin">and so no doubt they do at meal-time after
sunset, but we are more used to flushing
them amid dry bracken or in the course of
some frozen ditch. Quite apart, however,
from its exhilarating effect on the sportsman,
the bird has quieter interests for the naturalist,
since in its food, its breeding habits, its
travels, and its appearance it combines
more peculiarities than perhaps any other
bird, certainly than any other of the sportsman's
birds, in these islands. It is not,
legally speaking, a game bird and was not
included in the Act of 1824, but a game licence
is required for shooting it, and it
enjoys since 1880 the protection accorded
to other wild birds. This is excellent, so far
as it goes, but it ought to be protected during
the same period as the pheasant, particularly
now that it is once more established as a
resident species all over Britain and Ireland.</p>
<p>This new epoch in the history of its adventures
in these islands is the work of the<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></SPAN></span>
Wild Birds' Protection Acts. In olden times,
when half of Britain was under forest, and
when guns were not yet invented that could
"shoot flying," woodcocks must have been
much more plentiful than they are to-day.
In those times the bird was taken on the
ground in springes or, when "roding" in
the mating season, in nets, known as "shots,"
that were hung between the trees. When the
forest area receded, the resident birds must
have dwindled to the verge of extinction,
for on more than one occasion we find even
a seasoned sportsman like Colonel Hawker
worked up to a rare pitch of excitement after
shooting woodcock in a part of Hampshire
where in our day these birds breed regularly.
Thanks, however, to the protection afforded by
the law, there is once again probably no county
in England in which woodcocks do not nest.</p>
<p>At the same time, it is as an autumn
visitor that, with the first of the east wind in
October or November, we look for this untiring
little traveller from the Continent.
Some people are of opinion that since it has
extended its residential range fewer come
oversea to swell the numbers, but the arrivals<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></SPAN></span>
are in some years considerable, and if a
stricter watch were kept on unlicensed
gunners along the foreshore of East Anglia,
very much larger numbers would find their
way westwards instead of to Leadenhall. As it
is, the wanderers arrive, not necessarily, as has
been freely asserted, in poor condition, but
always tired out by their journey, and
numbers are secured before they have time
to recover their strength. Yet those which do
recover fly right across England, some continuing
the journey to Ireland, and stragglers
even, with help no doubt from easterly gales,
having been known to reach America.</p>
<p>The woodcock is interesting as a parent
because it is one of the very few birds that
carry their young from place to place, and
the only British bird that transports them
clasped between her legs. A few others, like
the swans and grebes, bear the young ones on
the back, but the woodcock's method is
unique. Scopoli first drew attention to his own
version of the habit in the words "<i>pullos
rostro portat</i>," and it was old Gilbert White
who, with his usual eye to the practical,
doubted whether so long and slender a bill<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></SPAN></span>
could be turned to such a purpose. More recent
observation has confirmed White's objection
and has established the fact of the woodcock
holding the young one between her thighs,
the beak being apparently used to steady her
burden. Whether the little ones are habitually
carried about in this fashion, or merely on
occasion of danger, is not known, and indeed
the bird's preference for activity in the dusk
has invested accurate observation of its habits
with some difficulty. Among well-known
sportsmen who were actually so fortunate as
to have witnessed this interesting performance,
passing mention may be made of the
late Duke of Beaufort, the Hon. Grantley
Berkeley, and Sir Ralph Payne-Gallwey.</p>
<p>Reference has already been made to the
now obsolete use of nets for the capture of
these birds when "roding." The cock-shuts,
as they were called, were spread so as to do
their work after sundown, and this is the
meaning of Shakespeare's allusion to "cock-shut
time." This "roding" is a curious performance
on the part of the males only, and
it bears some analogy to the "drumming" of
snipe. It is accompanied indeed by the same<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></SPAN></span>
vibrating noise, which may be produced from
the throat as well, but is more probably made
only by the beating of the wings. There appears
to be some divergence of opinion as to
its origin in both birds, though in that of the
snipe such sound authorities as Messrs. Abel
Chapman and Harting are convinced that it
proceeds from the quivering of the primaries,
as the large quill-feathers of the wings are
called. Other naturalists, however, have preferred
to associate it with the spreading tail-feathers.
Whether these eccentric gymnastics
are performed as displays, with a view to impressing
admiring females, or whether they
are merely the result of excitement at the
pairing season cannot be determined. It is
safe to assume that they aim at one or other
of these objects, and further no one can go
with any certainty. The word "roding" is
spelt "roading" by Newton, who thus gives
the preference to the Anglo-Saxon description
of the aërial tracks followed by the bird, over
the alternative derivation from the French
"roder," which means to wander. The flight
is at any rate wholly different from that to
which the sportsman is accustomed when one<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></SPAN></span>
of these birds is flushed in covert. In the latter
case, either instinct or experience seems to
have taught it extraordinary tricks of zigzag
manœuvring that not seldom save its life
from a long line of over-anxious guns; though
out in the open, where it generally flies in a
straight line for the nearest covert, few birds
of its size are easier to bring down. Fortunately,
we do not in England shoot the bird
in springtime, the season of "roding," but
the practice is in vogue in the evening twilight
in every Continental country, and large
bags are made in this fashion.</p>
<p>In its hungry moments the woodcock, like
the snipe, has at once the advantages and
handicap of so long a beak. On hard ground,
in a long spell of either drought or frost, it
must come within measurable distance of
starvation, for its only manner of procuring
its food in normal surroundings is to thrust its
bill deep into the soft mud in search of earthworms.
The bird does not, it is true, as was
once commonly believed, live by suction, or,
as the Irish peasants say in some parts, on
water, but such a mistake might well be
excused in anyone who had watched the<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></SPAN></span>
bird's manner of digging for its food in the
ooze. The long bill is exceedingly sensitive
at the tip, and in all probability, by the aid
of a tactile sense more highly developed than
any other in our acquaintance, this organ
conveys to its owner the whereabouts of
worms wriggling silently down out of harm's
way. On first reaching Britain, the woodcock
remains for a few days on the seashore to
recover from its crossing, and at this time of
rest it trips over the wet sand, generally in
the gloaming, and picks up shrimps and such
other soft food as is uncovered between tidal
marks. It is not among the easiest of birds
to keep for any length of time in captivity,
but if due attention be paid to its somewhat
difficult requirements in the way of suitable
food, success is not unattainable. On the
whole, bread and milk has been found the
best artificial substitute for its natural diet.
With the <i>kiwi</i> of New Zealand, a bird not
even distantly related to the woodcock, and
a cousin rather of the ostrich, but equipped
with much the same kind of bill as the subject
of these remarks, an even closer imitation of
the natural food has been found possible in<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></SPAN></span>
menageries. The bill of the <i>kiwi</i>, which has
the nostrils close to the tip, is even more
sensitive than that of the woodcock and is
employed in very similar fashion. At Regent's
Park the keeper supplies the bird with fresh
worms so long as the ground is soft enough for
spade-work. They are left in a pan, and the <i>kiwi</i>
eats them during the night. In winter, however,
when worms are not only hard to come by in
sufficient quantity but also frost-bitten and
in poor condition, an efficient substitute is
found in shredded fillet steak, which, whether
it accepts it for worms or not, the New
Zealander devours with the same relish.</p>
<p>When a woodcock lies motionless among
dead leaves, it is one of the most striking
illustrations of protective colouring to be
found anywhere. Time and again the sportsman
all but treads on one, which is betrayed
only by its large bright eye. There are men
who, in their eagerness to add it to the bag,
do not hesitate in such circumstances to
shoot a woodcock on the ground, but a man
so fond of ground game should certainly be
refused a game licence and should be allowed
to shoot nothing but rabbits.</p>
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