During the greater part of the year this species—the _Totanus calidris_ of modern naturalists—resides upon the coasts, retiring to more or less inland districts to breed. There are few prettier and more graceful birds along the shore than the Redshank, distinguished by its long orange-red legs, and white lower back, rump, and secondaries—the latter marbled with brown at the base. In the breeding season the grayish-brown upper plumage, and the white breast characteristic of winter, are mottled with rich dark brown. In autumn our resident Redshanks are largely increased in numbers by migratory individuals from more northerly latitudes; many of these pass on to winter quarters further south, but many others remain with us for the winter. Sociable at all times, and freely consorting with other Limicoline species on the coast, in winter, especially, the Redshank becomes very gregarious. Its favourite haunts are mud-flats and salt-marshes, and it is here that the largest flocks congregate, but many odd birds frequent coasts of a more rocky character. Redshanks are sprightly, restless birds, almost constantly in motion when on the feed, and scattering far and wide, running to and fro with dainty action, wading through the little pools, and even occasionally swimming the shallows between one mud-bank and another. They are ever alert, and take wing as soon as danger threatens, the scattered flock soon forming into a compact mass again. Between the tides Redshanks often collect on some mud-bank, where in a serried throng they keep up a confused babel of subdued cries, as if all were talking and none listening. Its flight is rapid and most unsteady looking—the black and white wings producing an idea of irregularity which is more imaginary than real. Upon the coast the Redshank feeds on sand-worms, crustaceans, molluscs, and such like marine creatures, but during summer at its breeding-grounds, worms, insects, ground-fruits and berries are among the substances sought. The call note of this wader is a loud shrill _tyü-tyü_ most persistently repeated when the bird is excited or alarmed; whilst during the pairing season the love song or trill is happily described by Professor Newton—who has had exceptional opportunities for observing this species—as a constantly repeated _leero-leero-leero_, accompanied with many gesticulations, as he hovers in attendance on the flight of his mate; “or with a slight change to a different key, engages with a rival; or again, half angrily and half piteously, complains of a human intruder on his chosen ground.”[3]