Blacksmith Lapwing

Vanellus armatus

The call of a blacksmith lapwing is a noisy and metallic ‘tink tink tink’ — like a blacksmith hammering on an anvil. It's an exceedingly bold bird when defending its chicks, known to attack raptors and go after elephants using the sharp spurs on its carpal (wrist) joints.


Clockwise from top left; a blacksmith thrush (Turdus subalaris), blacksmith tree frog (Boana faber), and coppersmith barbet (Psilopogon haemacephalus).

The animal kingdom employs a number of "blacksmiths."¹ None of them do any actual smithing with fire and metal, but some at least sound like they do. The song of the blacksmith thrush is high-pitched and scrapy, like the noise of metal on metal. The croak of a blacksmith tree frog sounds like a hammer hitting an anvil. The "tuk…tuk…tuk" of a coppersmith barbet apparently sounds like a copper sheet being beaten down.² But of these animal smiths, the most evocative is a species of lapwing.

The blacksmith lapwing wears a patchwork of chalky white, sooty grey, and coal black feathers — its face and chest are draped in black as if it's wearing a dark mask and apron, while a white cap adorns its crown. Its body is balanced atop a pair of long, stick-thin legs — hoisting it to a total height of 30 centimetres (11.8 in), not quite to a person's knees. This lapwing is, at the same time, inconspicuous and distinct, its colours are muted but also stand in sharp contrast against one another, its black-and-white design appearing almost artificial against a backdrop of rusty soils and dry grasses. However, the lapwing isn't named for its industrial appearance, but for its hammering calls.

Bold Blacksmiths

From Kenya to Angola, and down to the tip of South Africa, these lapwings set up shop and clink away. They aren't smithing, they're protecting their progeny. These are birds of grassy wetlands. Their nests are built in shallow holes in the ground — either scraped out by the parents or opportunistically repurposed (using the inside of a dried hoofprint, for example) — and made more homey with some grasses, peddles, and mud flakes. The vulnerability of lapwing eggs correlates directly to the boldness of the parents; i.e. the eggs are very vulnerable and the parents are very bold.

Raptors, gulls and crows, mongooses and jackals — the lapwing's potential nest predators are a crafty bunch. They have to be repelled with confidence and, if necessary, force. A lapwing parent will charge any threat, no matter the size; sprinting on its stilt-like legs, wings spread wide and beak pointed at the intruder, brandished like a little knife. All the while, the lapwing utters a loud metallic “tink-tink-tink” call, very reminiscent of a blacksmith hammering on an anvil. In most cases, this is startling enough to deter the interloper.

Clockwise from top left; a blacksmith lapwing chick, a lapwing boldy fending off an African elephant, a clutch of lapwing eggs, and a parent with its chick.

After about four weeks, a lapwing couple's clutch of 3 or 4 eggs hatch into a posse of 3 or 4 chicks, but the job continues, as the parents must now protect their chicks for some six weeks more until they fledge. Some predators are more persistent than others, and aren't deterred by the lapwing's theatrics or metallic racket. The blacksmith lapwing might then resort to trickery; it warns its young of the coming threat and then leaves its nest to crouch down somewhere else — this 'false-brooding display' often tricks predators into thinking the lapwing's nest is in a different spot, drawing the danger away from the real nest.

But if a predator isn't driven off by a threat display or deceived by a trick, things escalate and the lapwing is forced to throw down — the predator may live to regret it. An alternate name for the blacksmith is the "armed lapwing", for, concealed within its feathers, the lapwing is armed with two sharp, bony spurs protruding from "wrist joints" on its wings. It employs these weapons to deter the most obstinate intruders. So bold is the blacksmith that it's known to dive bomb — striking with its spurs — anything from birds of prey to elephants who've wandered too close to its nest.

Wetland Wader

This lapwing may sound like a blacksmith but, by profession, it is a wader — a wetland forager. It lives around rivers, lakes, estuaries, moist grasslands, and pastures. It strides and sprints in search of prey both aquatic and terrestrial; worms, molluscs and crustaceans, beetles, ants, and other insect larvae. Young chicks begin their escapades hours after hatching, tentatively taking their first exploratory trips, but they won't stray farther than 10 metres (33 ft) from their parent's nest. As the young put on size and confidence, they wander further and further, until eventually, they don't return to the nest at all. Untied from their nests, the lapwings now move freely across their range; lingering where the eating is good and passing through where it's lacklustre.

Outside of their breeding season, blacksmith lapwings congregate in large, loud, ‘klink-klink-klinking' groups. The sight of many monochrome birds scattered across a field and the sounds of their metallic smithing are, nowadays, exceedingly common throughout Southern Africa — but it was not always so. In contrast to many other animals, the last 100 years have been kind to the blacksmith lapwings. This is in large part due to their adaptability; they'll as readily pluck worms from an artificial wetland or hunt insects across a pasture or sports field, as they would on a natural mudflat or estuary. As the prevalence of these man-made, but lapwing-friendly habitats has increased, so have the lapwings.

But the world-shaping scythe of mankind is double-edged. With one side we create new habitats where lapwings can (incidentally) survive, with the other we destroy the natural, traditional habitats of their past. Humans and cattle push further into the wilds and in greater numbers, trampling ground nests with shoe, hoof, and tire. Eggs and chicks are engulfed and stolen by torrential waters, as floods increase in severity — conversely, cruelly, as do droughts. There is a disruption of natural cycles, caused by a climate that's now changing faster than ever. We're creating a world of extremes, of disbalance. Of floods followed by droughts.

Every year, southern Africa loses an estimated 2% of its wetlands, mainly due to agriculture or artisanal mining. As with much of the life on this planet, humans are forcing the blacksmiths to adapt — mould themselves to fit into our world — or perish along with their old one.³

Lapwings of Africa

Clockwise from top left; a spur-winged lapwing (Vanellus spinosus), white-crowned lapwing (Vanellus albiceps), crowned lapwing (Vanellus coronatus), and long-toed lapwings (Vanellus crassirostris).

While it's important to be aware of the perils we face and the harm we cause, since knowledge is necessary for action, I hate to end on a note of doom — that can often inspire a pessimistic view; one where the world and everything beautiful in it is dying, it's too late to save it, and all we'll be left with is pigeons, rats, roaches. That view doesn't hold true to reality. A counterbalance of hope is needed, and thankfully, the world provides plenty of it. Earth is still replete with incredible creatures — so many, that the average person has barely even heard of a tiny fraction of them. For example, who knew that, aside from the blacksmith, Africa is home to some seven other species of lapwing?

The spur-winged lapwing is the blacksmith's sister species from the north — it ranges from sub-Saharan West Africa to the eastern Mediterranean, looks a lot like the blacksmith (with its black-and-white plumage), and shares the weaponized spurs on its wings, as well as the willingness to use them. The long-toed lapwing of central and eastern Africa, as per its name, has long red toes, which it uses to walk across floating lily pads. The wattled and white-crowned lapwings of Sub-Saharan Africa flaunt conspicuous yellow wattles that extend from their eyes and dangle on either side of their bills — fleshy and unnerving, but surely very sexy to fellow lapwings. There is also the black-headed lapwing and the black-winged, the Senegal and the crowned, all found throughout this single continent. And there are even more outside of Africa. Making up the subfamily Vanellinae — most closely related to squat-bodied, long-legged waders like plovers and dotterels — lapwings live across every continent, save Antarctica, with some 25 different species to be seen around the world.


A blacksmith chromis (Chromis punctipinnis).

¹ There is also the blacksmith chromis, which wasn't named for its call because people don't often hear small, subtropical damselfish. Seemingly, the fish gets its name from its dark metallic colouration, which resembles the iron tools of a blacksmith. Alternatively — and this is just me speculating — the fish could be so-called because it looks like it was hit in the face with a hammer, compressing its muzzle into a permanent expression of indignation.

² To me, the call of a coppersmith barbet sounds more like an electronic "bing", rather than the striking of metal. But then, I've never actually heard what beating a copper sheet sounds like.

Generalists on the left — raccoon (Procyon lotor) and feral rock dove (Columba livia) — and specialists on the right — koala (Phascolarctos cinereus) and shoebill (Balaeniceps rex).

³ It's important to note that these lapwings fall into that group of exceptional animals that can adapt to an anthropocentric world. While not quite 'generalists' like raccoons, rats, and roaches (and humans) — who can survive in forest, field, or house, on a diet of "whatever is around" — the lapwings are still flexible enough to live in man-made environments. In a way, lapwings got lucky. Humans created environments (pastures, lawns, parks, etc.) that replicated many aspects of their natural habitats, so as their original homes have become degraded, the lapwings have (perhaps not voluntarily) moved into the man-made versions.

Most other animals aren't so lucky. Either they're not adaptable enough to shift away from their very specific niche, or we don't provide them with a suitable replacement, one similar enough to their original habitat, for them to move into. Wild rock pigeons — who nested on rocky cliffs before we domesticated them — can adapt to nest on our "cliffs" of concrete (the buildings of our cities). Raccoons — who, in the wild, eat fruits and nuts, insects and eggs, small animals and carrion — can adapt to survive on half-eaten sausages and Pop-Tarts. But cut down the 40 or so species of eucalyptus trees that Koalas feed on, and they will starve. Or drain the wetlands, rich in large prey like snakes and lungfish, and a shoebill will struggle to find prey. These are the specialists; they're very good at what they do (even in the koala's case, although it doesn't seem very good at anything) but being so adapted to a particular lifestyle, a specific niche, they aren't flexible enough to shift away from it, even when forced to by human forces.


Where Does It Live?

⛰️ Open wet grasslands and mudflats, around rivers, lakes and estuaries, as well as parks, gardens and sports fields.

📍 Sub-Saharan Africa; from southern Kenya in the east to Angola in the west, and down to South Africa.

‘Least Concern’ as of 22 July, 2024.

  • Size // Medium

    Wingspan // N/A

    Length // 28 - 31 cm (11 - 12.2 in)

    Weight // 114 - 213 g (4 - 7.5 oz)

  • Activity: Diurnal ☀️

    Lifestyle: Social 👥

    Lifespan: 10 - 20 years

    Diet: Carnivore

    Favorite Food: Molluscs, worms, and insects 🐌

  • Class: Aves

    Order: Charadriiformes

    Family: Charadriidae

    Genus: Vanellus

    Species: V. armatus


  • Blacksmith lapwings use holes in the ground for nesting — either scraped out by the parents or found and repurposed (for example, using the inside of a dried hoofprint) — which they line with grasses, peddles, and mud flakes.

    To protect their vulnerable nests from a crafty rogues' gallery of predators — such as jackals, mongooses, raptors, crows, and gulls — lapwing parents are incredibly bold.

    They charge straight at threats with their wings spread or dive at them in aerial attacks, striking with the bony spurs that jut from their carpal ("wrist") joints. These anatomical oddities (shared by several other lapwing species) have given this lapwing the alternative name of "armed lapwing".

    While fending off predators, the blacksmith lapwing also makes quite a racket; its calls resemble the sound of a hammer striking metal with the speed and intensity varying based on the situation.

    Alternatively, this lapwing might resort to trickery by performing a 'false-brooding display' — it warns its young of the coming threat and then leaves them to crouch down somewhere else, tricking predators into thinking the nest is in a different spot and drawing the danger away from the real nest.

    Young chicks take their first tentative steps only hours after hatching, but they typically won't stray farther than 10 metres (33 ft) from their parent's nest.

    The blacksmith lapwing's "day job" is a wetland wader; it strides around wet habitats in search of worms, molluscs, crustaceans, beetles, ants, and other insect larvae.

    The population of these birds has actually increased in the past 100 years — outside of their breeding season, it's not uncommon to spot large and loud congregations of blacksmith lapwings across their sub-Saharan range.

    The blacksmiths' success is in large part due to their adaptability. They moved into man-made pastures or sports fields, which have become increasingly common — even as their historical habitats (natural wetlands, estuaries, and mudflats) have suffered degradation. While these lapwings may have adapted to this habitat shift, many other species, unfortunately, have not.


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