NORTH AMERICAN MARSH BIRDS 281 



ca, caha, caha." The commencement of the cry, which is heard quite as fre- 

 quently during day as by night, is extremely loud and rapid, its termination 

 lower and protracted. At the report of a gun, when thousands of these birds 

 instantaneously burst forth with their cries, you may imagine what an uproar 

 they make. This bird seems to possess the power of ventriloquism, for, when 

 several hundred yards off, its voice often seems to be issuing from the grasp 

 around you. 



Game. — The clapper rail has long been pursued as a game bird 

 and countless thousands have been shot by, so-called, sportsmen. 

 But it seems to possess few of the qualities of a good game bird. Its 

 flight is slow, weak and direct and it is so tame that it usually rises 

 at close range; it is consequently one of the easiest of birds to shoot. 

 When the marshes are covered with water, at high tides, the rails 

 gather in large numbers in the few available high spots where there 

 is grass enough above water to conceal them; it is then a simple 

 matter to pole a boat up to one of such spots and pot them, as they 

 fly slowly away in the open. The flesh of this rail will not compare 

 in flavor with that of the sora, especially when the latter has been 

 fattened on wild rice; it is said to be insipid and sedgy, but is un- 

 doubtedly tender and fairly palatable, as is the flesh of most birds, 

 particularly young birds. Audubon (1840) has given us a graphic 

 account of clapper rail shooting, as follows : 



About Charleston, in South Carolina, the shooting of marsh hens takes place 

 from September to February, a few days in each month during the springtides. 

 A light skiff or canoe is procured, the latter being much preferable, and paddled 

 by one or two experienced persons, the sportsman standing in the bow, and his 

 friend, if he has one with him, taking his station in the stern. At an early hour 

 they proceed to the marshes, amid many boats containing parties on the same 

 errand. There is no lack of shooting grounds, for ever3' creek of salt water 

 swarms with marsh hens. The sportsman who leads has already discharged 

 his barrels, and on either side of his canoe a bird has fallen. As the boat moves 

 swiftly towards them, more are raised, and although he may not be ready, the 

 safety of the bird is in imminent jeopardy, for now from another bark double 

 reports are heard in succession. The tide is advancing apace, the boats merely 

 float along, and the birds, driven from place to place, seek in vain for safety. 

 Here, on a lloating mass of tangled weeds, stand a small group side by side. 

 The gunner has marked them, and presently nearly the whole covey is pros- 

 trated. Now, onward to that great bunch of tall grass all the boats are seen to 

 steer; shot after shot flies in rapid succession; dead and dying lie all around on 

 the water; the terrified survivors are trying to save their lives by hurried flight; 

 but their efforts are imavailing — one by one they fall, to rise no more. It is a 

 sorrowful sight after all; see that poor thing gasping hard in the agonies of death, 

 its legs quivering with convulsive twitches, its bright eyes fading into glazed 

 obscurity. In a few hours, hundreds have ceased to breathe the breath of life; 

 hundreds that erstwhile revelled in the joys of careless existence, but which can 

 never behold their beloved marshes again. The cruel sportsman, covered with 

 mud and mire, drenched to the skin by the splashing of the paddles, his face and 

 hands besmeared with powder, stands amid the wreck which he has made, exu't- 

 inglj' surveys his slaughtered heaps, and with joyous feelings returns home with 

 a cargo of game more than enough for a family thrice as numerous as his own. 



