106 MR. W. H. HUDSON ON THE HABITS OF RAILS. [Jan. 18, 



Where there are forests, and on misty or rainy days, they stray to 

 a distance from the reeds. They walk with an easy and somewhat 

 stately grace, jerking up the tail, Rail-like, at every stride, and run with 

 a velocity no man can equal. Occasionally they perch on trees, and 

 are fond of strutting to and fro on a horizontal branch. 



When surprised on the open ground the Ipecaha lies close, like a 

 Tinamou, refusing to rise until almost trodden upon. It springs up 

 with a loud-sounding whirr, rushes violently through the air, till, 

 gaining the reeds, it glides a few yards and then drops : its flight is 

 thus precisely like that of the Tinamou, and is more sounding and 

 violent than that of the Grouse or Partridge. On spying an intruder 

 it immediately utters a powerful cry, in strength and intonation not 

 unlike that of the Peafowl. This note of alarm is answered by other 

 birds at a distance as they hastily advance to the spot where the warn- 

 ing was sounded. The cry is repeated at irregular intervals, first on one 

 hand, then on the other, as the birds change their position to dog 

 the intruder's steps and inspect him from the reeds. I have sur- 

 prised parties of them in an open space, and shot one or more ; but 

 no sooner had the survivors gained their refuge than they turned 

 about to watch and follow me, sounding their powerful alarm the 

 whole time. I have frequently been followed half a mile through 

 the rushes by them, and, by lying close and mimicking their cries, 

 have always succeeded in drawing them about me. 



But the Ipecaha' s loudest notes of alarm are weak compared with 

 the cries be utters at other times, when, untroubled with a strange 

 presence, he pours out his soul in screams and shrieks that amaze 

 the listener with their unparalleled power. These screams, in all 

 their changes and modulations, have a resemblance to the human 

 voice, but of the human voice exerted to its utmost pitch, and ex- 

 pressive of agony, frenzy, and despair. A long piercing shriek, 

 astonishing for its strength and vehemence, is succeeded by a lower 

 note, as if in the first one the creature had well-nigh exhausted it- 

 self. The double scream is repeated several times ; then follow other 

 sounds, resembling, as they rise and fall, half- suppressed cries of pain 

 and moans of anguish. Suddenly the unearthly shrieks are re- 

 newed in all their power. This is kept up for some time, several 

 birds screaming in concert ; it is renewed at intervals throughout 

 the day, and again at set of sun, when the woods and marshes 

 resound with the extravagant uproar. I have said that several birds 

 unite in screaming ; this is invariably the case. I have enjoyed 

 the rare pleasure of witnessing the birds at such times ; and the 

 screams then seem a fit accompaniment to their disordered gestures 

 and motions. 



A dozen or twenty birds have their place of reunion on a small 

 area of smooth clean ground surrounded by reeds ; and by lying well 

 concealed and exercising some patience one is enabled to watch 

 their proceedings. First one bird is heard to utter a loud metallic- 

 sounding note, three times repeated, and somewhat like the call of 

 the Guinea-fowl. It issues from the reeds, and is a note of invita- 

 tion quickly responded to by other birds on every hand as they all 



