THE VIRGINIA HAIL 1 13 



Across the field by the Sashing weir, 



Slowly, solemnly stalking. 

 The little frogs in the tules hear, 

 And jump for their lives if he comes aear; 



The fishes scuttle away in fear, 



When the sandhill crane goes walking. 



The field folk know if he conns that way. 



Slowly, solemnly stalking. 

 Then- i^ danger and death in the least delay, 



When the sandhill crane goes walking. 

 The chipmunks stop in the midst of play. 

 The gophers hide in their holes away; 

 And "Hush, oh, hush!" the field mice say. 



When the sandhill crane goes walking. 



—Mrs. Mary Austin, in St. Nicholas. 1 



THE FAMILY OF HAILS 

 Rallidae 



From the stately crane to the timid, self-effacing Vir- 

 ginia Rail 2 is going at one step from the sublime to the 

 ridiculous. To the latter, which is a l>inl about half the size 

 of a bob-white, a crane must seem like a giant whose head 

 is in the clouds. The crane can either fight, run or fly away: 

 but the rail is safe only when threading the mazes of a reedy 

 marsh, where no enemy can follow it far. When boating 

 on a marsh filled with cat-tails, or reeds, or tall grass, you 

 may hear a score of rails clucking and calling in the heart of 

 the green tangle about you without seeing one. There are 

 times when it seems as if this bird is a deliberate and inten- 

 tional ventriloquist, for its voice seems to come from all di- 

 rections save that which points toward its owner. A marsh 

 is as necessary to rails as water is to fishes. 



1 By permission <>i' The Century <'.>. and of the autho , 



- Ral'lus r in/ in in n us. Average length, !» inches. 



