174 THE WATERHENS. 



one, however, which is very easily recognised, 

 and I know that it is resident among us, because 

 1 have found its nest in Girgaum, not far from 

 the Grant Road station, where there is, or used 

 to be, some marshy land devoted to the cultivation 

 of rice. The bird I mean is the White-breasted Water- 

 hen (Galltnula phcsnicura) a blackish bird, with a 

 pure white face, throat and breast. The under parts 

 are chestnut, especially towards the tail, and as it is 

 generally walking hastily away from you, with its tail 

 cocked up, this is important. The contrast of these 

 colours catches the eye and is not easily forgotten. 

 And if the aspect of the White-breasted Waterhen 

 catches the eye, its voice does more than catch the ear. 

 The clamour which this little bird can raise is some- 

 thing astounding. During the dry season it is silent 

 enough, but as soon as the rain begins it gets 

 boisterous, and roars and hiccups and cackles as if it 

 were some great wild beast and not a small fowl. 

 The precise import of the uproar I have never been 

 able to make out, but it must be either a serenade or 

 a family quarrel, for the monsoon is the season when 

 the Waterhen aspires to have a family. It lives by 

 preference among flooded rice fields, bordered by 

 high hedges overrun with rank creepers, among which 

 it clambers like a cat with its great spreading feet. 

 And in the thickest part of some such hedge it makes 

 its clumsy nest and lays four or five beautiful eggs, 

 of a light buff colour, spotted with reddish brown 

 and pale blue. In default of any situation of this 

 kind, the nest I found in Bombay had been built in 

 the top of a date palm. The young of Waterhens 

 run as soon as they are hatched, so the parents had 



