370 Simmons, The Louisiana Clapper Rail. [j^jy 



When pursued they run swiftly through the grassy jungles and 

 well-worn runways, nimble runners you must admit, running with 

 outstretched neck and erect tail. Their nimbleness and ability to 

 dodge pursuers reminds the Westerner of the actions of the Road- 

 runner when surrounded on all sides by men. This way and that 

 they dart, and disappear before the very eyes of the enemy, fading 

 away into a small clump of the tall marsh grass. 



They swim well, with neck erect and sitting high on the water; 

 they do not swim fast, and when wounded and closely pursued they 

 dive and hold to the marsh grass beneath the water, head down- 

 ward, to keep from rising. 



They take to wing when pursued only as a last resort. Their 

 flight is slow and labored, and with dangling legs they soon drop 

 back into cover. In fact, their flight is so slow and awkward that 

 it would be difficult for any sort of marksman to miss them. 



Doubtless the reader will be surprised that the Rail has ever been 

 known to perch; indeed, I was more than surprised. On one 

 occasion, in August 1912, 1 was surprised to see a Clapper Rail flap 

 up out of the marsh and light on a flat-topped post of the barbed 

 wire fence, where it remained for some few minutes, standing there 

 on the small flat surface as unconcerned as if on its marshy home 

 ground. 



From November 20, 1912, to the latter part of March 1913, Mr. 

 Pope encamped in a deserted two-story building located on the 

 bay shore of Bolivar Peninsula, at a point almost due north of 

 Flake. The front of the building was over water at mean tide, and 

 was built on piles. 



Within a stone's throw of the rear of this building was a cove with 

 an unknown depth of silt which was often left bare after a blow 

 from the north. Around the edges of this cove was a favorite 

 haunt of the Rails and when the cove was left bare there were 

 seldom less than a dozen to be seen almost any time wading about 

 in the silt, and feeding. 



Just across this cove was a stranded two-masted schooner, " The 

 Two Brothers," which had dragged her anchors and stopped with 

 her prow just in the edge of a bayou. By taking hold of a line 

 which dangled from her bowsprit and walking one of the anchor 

 chains he could cross the bayou, and this was his regular route 



