106 WATER BIRDS 
It has a large vocabulary of calls ranging from harsh 
squawks to pathetic complaining cries not unlike the skirl 
of a bagpipe. It is a common resident on the fresh- 
water marshes of California, where it can be heard much 
oftener than seen ; for it is exceedingly shy, and its dusky 
plumage renders it inconspicuous among the rushes. In 
swimming it has a rather awkward way of sitting up 
very straight and bobbing its head with every stroke of 
its feet. Feeding on the mud-flats, it dips daintily, as it 
picks its way through the tangled reeds after the manner 
of the king rail. Its nest is of dried tule or marsh grass, 
lined with softer grass of the meadow, the latter being 
brought there from a distance. All about the rim of the 
structure the rushes are broken to form a guard for 
the eggs, for although usually about three inches deep 
the nests are sometimes only a shallow platform. The 
young run about like tiny black chicks, and pick up a 
living from the water, almost as soon as they are hatched. 
It would be impossible to distinguish them from young 
clapper rails except for the sprinkling of white hairs 
among the black down. They are quite unlike little 
chickens in one thing: at the warning call of the parent 
they disappear noiselessly, as if by magic, or are meta- 
morphosed into dark stones ; feathered barnyard babies, 
on the other hand, run to the mother with cries of fear. 
