will not grow. Cattle trample the edges in droves, but apparently avoid the 

 central portion of the swamp because of its treacherous nature. 



On the way in we found a belated nest of Cinnamon Teal, n/9, and in a 

 central tule patch a solitary nest, n/4, of the Yellow-headed Blackbird. 

 Wilson Phalaropes were hooting at us; and persistent search for eggs of this 

 species yielded such good returns that we decided to return to our abandoned 

 camp for lunch, and to put in the afternoon with a drag rope. Accordingly, we 

 re-entered the swamp at two o'clock. Stevens and our old-time mascot, Robert 

 Canterbury (now 19) manned the rope; while I floundered along behind marking 

 the rare irruptions of startled nesters. A nest of the Savannah Sparrow, n/5, 

 with fresh eggs, very light in coloration, was the first find; and a Sora Rail's nest 

 with only two eggs, apparently incubated, the second. 



We were dragging a rather thin stretch of marsh grass when a Jack Snipe 

 flushed and I called Stevens to my assistance, leaving Bobby, who was more 

 remote, standing listlessly by his rope-end. Returning from a fruitless quest, 

 we were about to resume operations when Bobby exclaimed "Well, look at this!" 

 He had been standing all the while within three feet of a low-lying cushion which 

 held, in a compact and perfect circle, eight fresh eggs. The cover of marsh grass 

 was scanty, not over eighteen inches high, and the water shallow — an inch or so; 

 yet there was no trace of a bird about. The eggs were "different" — no doubt of 

 that; much smaller than those of a Sora, which we had, fortunately, just examined; 

 of a dark, old-ivory-color, heavily sprinkled, almost capped at the larger end, 

 with rich reddish brown spots. The nest itself was non-committal, a well-rounded 

 and rather deep bowl of coiled grasses, three and a half inches across by two in 

 depth inside, built up to a height of three inches clear of the water. Notably, 

 there was present a leaning and overshadowing wisp of dead grass. I considered 

 the exhibit long and carefully, too sobered, for once, to render snap-judgment. 

 The boys became impatient and pressed for an expression of opinion. Finally, 

 I said, "Well, boys, to the best of my knowledge and belief, these are eggs of the 

 Yellow Rail, {Coturnlcops noveboracensis) the first breeding record for California, 

 and the first set ever taken west of the Rocky Mountains." 



We left the eggs undisturbed and tagged the spot with cotton tufts. Returning 

 ten minutes later, I found no bird. Returning again after half an hour and 

 stooping over the next attentively, I saw that one of the eggs had been moved, 

 pried over on top of the others. Then the bird's nerves gave way, and she flushed 

 from a spot two feet beyond the nest and not over five feet from my face. I 

 watched her keenly, as with feeble, vacillating flight she passed at a height of 

 two or three feet above the sedge tops, and plumped down some seventy-five 

 feet away. The bird was unmistakably smaller and otherwise different from the 

 Sora, which we had recently observed, also in flight. I got no impression of 

 yellow; but since the flight of the bird was quartering against the sun, that is 

 not surprising. 



Although we spent another day in the swamp, we saw no further trace of 

 Yellow Rails, unless a nest "ready for eggs," discovered by the boys but unseen 

 by me, belonged to this species. 



Compared in the cabinet with a set, n/8, of Yellow Rail's eggs taken last 

 year by Rev. P. B. Peabody, there can be no possible doubt of the correct identity 

 of these Long Valley specimens. I quite agree with Mr. Peabody that they are 

 absolutely unlike the eggs of any other American species. The eggs were slightly 

 incubated, and the albumen was so stiff that it was rather difficult of removal. 

 The set, Rl 10/8-22, averages mm28.8x20.4 in dimensions, and the ground color 

 is a trifle darker than that of the North Dakota specimens. 



One cannot forbear to remark, in passing, that the hospitality of Cali- 

 fornia appears to be unbounded. Certainly its limits have not yet been reached. 

 And so far as the Yellow Rail, is concerned, I predict that this set will prove to be 

 only the first of a considerable series which the enthusiasm of collectors will 

 bring to light in California. But let no one suppose on that account that the 

 eggs of the Yellow Rail will ever be commonplace. 



