May 



back, and a few minutes later heard the first cry of 

 the corncrake, to which a second bird responded 

 from a more distant field. 



Every year these birds return to the same group 

 of fields. Last year the grass was so backward that 

 for weeks they ran about with their heads visible 

 above it. This year they found better cover ; but, 

 even so, a corncrake may usually be detected in the 

 early grass. Later on it is a more difficult matter, 

 for this bird, although a migrant, and a strong flier 

 when once under way, never leaves the ground 

 unless unexpectedly flushed by man or dog. With 

 head lowered, it cuts through the grass with sur- 

 prising speed, the only indication, if any, of its 

 course being given by the ripple of the green in its 

 wake. 



If one enters the grass, pursuit is all but sure to 

 be fruitless, and the bird's " crake " is like a will-o'- 

 the-wisp of sound, followed only to be renewed in 

 some unexpected quarter with tantalizing ubiquity. 

 Indeed, there can scarcely be a more skulking bird 

 than the corncrake. If it be seen at all, it is generally 

 as it skirts a field, hugging, as it goes, the hedgebank 

 or the outer rim of the standing crops. If it passes 

 a furrowed field, it will not traverse the furrows 

 directly, but glides along one furrow, sneaks over the 

 ridge, glides along the next furrow, and so on, fol- 

 lowing a broken diagonal across the field. 



The only occasion on which I had a prolonged 

 near view of the corncrake was at noon on a hot 



137 



