THE SORA RAIL. 



This is one of our fresh-water 

 marsh birds. I show you his 

 picture taken where he spends 

 most of his time. 



If it were not for the note 

 calls, these tall reeds and grasses 

 would keep from us the secret 

 of the Rail's home. 



Like most birds, though, they 

 must be heard, and so late in the 

 aftei'noon you may hear their 

 clear note, ker-wee. 



From all parts of the marsh 

 you will hear their calls which 

 they keep up long after darkness 

 has set in. 



This Rail was just about to 

 step out from the grasses to 

 feed when the artist took his 

 picture. See him — head up, and 

 tail up. He steps along care- 

 fully. He feels that it is risky 

 to leave his shelter and is ready 

 at the first sign of danger, to 

 dart back under cover. 



There are very few fresh- 

 water marshes where the Rail is 

 not found. 



When a boy, I loved to hear 

 their note calls and would spend 

 hours on the edge of a marsh 

 near my home. 



It seemed to me there was no 

 life among the reeds and cat- 

 tails of the marsh, but when I 

 threw a stone among them, the 

 Rails would always answer with 

 their ])eeps or keeks. 



And so I used to go down to 

 the marsh with my pockets filled 

 with stones. Not that I desired 

 or even expected to injure 

 one of these birds. Far from it. 

 It pleased me to hear their calls 

 from the reeds and grass that 

 seemed deserted. 



Those of you who live near 

 wild-rice or wild -oat marshes 

 have a good chance to become 

 acquainted with this Rail. 



In the south these Rails are 

 found keeping company with 

 the Bobolinks or Reed-birds as 

 they are called down there. 



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