WATER-RAIL. 407 
that they produced the cry in question. I think that 
the male bird only was thus noisy; but from the long 
herbage and reeds from which they only emerged at 
intervals, am not certain on this point; the nest con- 
tained seven eggs.” I have never been fortunate 
enough, in like manner, to observe this bird when 
uttering its note, although, hidden in a reed-bush, I 
have witnessed their stealthy movements close at hand ; 
or, through a good glass, have watched the actions of 
a little family group disporting themselves all uncon- 
scious of a looker on; but the cry with which I am familiar 
as that of the water-rail, and which has been pointed 
out to me as such by the marshmen at Surlingham 
and other places, is alike remarkable for its power and 
character, and when heard in the stillness of a summer’s 
night is scarcely less startling on those lonesome waters 
than was once the boom of the bittern. On the 17th 
of July, 1869, between twelve and one in the morning, 
I listened to the cry of this bird at intervals for more 
than an hour on Surlingham Broad, and with a thick 
white fog enveloping the reed-beds and marshes, the 
sound struck me as far more resonant or explosive than 
I had ever noticed before. 
The departure of a portion, at least, of our home-bred 
birds takes place probably about the same time that mi- 
eratory flights from more northern localities* arrive on 
our coast, in autumn. Judging from my own experience 
and notes of such occurrences, this southward migra- 
tion varies somewhat as to date in different seasons. 
On two or three occasions, when snipe-shooting at 
Surlmgham, I have found these rails scattered all 
over the drier marshes, surrounding the broad, and 
either threading their way between the tussocks of 
* In Iceland, according to Faber (Prodromus der Islindischen 
Ornithologie, p. 32), the water-rail is a resident bird, leading a dreary 
life in winter, near the hot springs in which that island abounds. 
