THE WOODCOCK
There 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 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,"Lonely
woodcocks haunt the watery glade;"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.
This new epoch
in the history of its adventures in these islands is the work of the
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.
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 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.
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 "pullos rostro portat," and
it was old Gilbert White who, with his usual eye to the practical,
doubted whether so long and slender a bill 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.
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 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 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.
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 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 kiwi 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 menageries. The bill of the
kiwi, 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 kiwi 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.
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.
