THE "QUEEN" RAIL 



lovely, and her heart was unafraid, as royal hearts ever should be. 

 Straightway I named her the "Queen," and our acquaintance be- 

 gan. 



After staying quietly about her until convinced that she 

 was not frightened, I worked my way to the bank and car- 

 ried my camera into the swamp, setting it up about fifteen feet 

 from the nest, by the use of a long water tripod, and covering it 

 with rushes. Then with the bulb of a long hose in one hand I 

 slowly waded toward the nest, stooping to reach under water and 

 to cut the intervening grasses from the foreground of my pic- 

 ture. On nearing the nest I worked very slowly, studying every 

 movement to make it noiseless and simple. It was not so easy, 

 for the water was quite cold, the muck deep and sticky, and 

 constant watching was required to avoid sinking above my wad- 

 ers in a net-work of muskrat burrows. In my absorption I 

 forgot how nearly I was approaching the nest, and suddenly 

 there came between the grasses a flash of ivory, and a red stain 

 spread on my bared arm. 



I almost cried aloud for pure joy. Every second I had looked 

 for my "Queen" to flatten her feathers and dart into a well-de- 

 fined little runway, that could be detected leading off from one 

 side of the nest into the swamp. But this was pure glory. She 

 was a fighter. She would stay. Talk about excitement! My hair 

 pricked my head and my heart muffled up in my throat as I stooped 

 low, and slowly and carefully parted and bent back the grasses 

 of the nest, while the "Queen" peppered me without mercy. My 

 hands and arms were seeping blood in twenty-three places when 

 the nest was opened to my satisfaction, and the "Queen" had not 

 budged to leave it when I finished the exposure and closed it 

 again. 



Every day for seven days I slipped into the swamp, set up 

 my camera, closer and closer each time, and opened that nest. 



37 



