﻿BIRDS 
  OF 
  NEW 
  YORK 
  279 
  

  

  prised 
  leading 
  her 
  family 
  of 
  12 
  or 
  14 
  downy 
  black 
  chicks 
  along 
  the 
  sedgy 
  

   bank 
  of 
  the 
  stream. 
  

  

  In 
  the 
  fall 
  soras 
  feed 
  largely 
  on 
  the 
  seeds 
  of 
  grasses, 
  especially 
  the 
  

   wild 
  rice 
  (Zizania) 
  and 
  become 
  fat 
  and 
  well 
  flavored. 
  At 
  this 
  season 
  Sora 
  

   shooting 
  is 
  much 
  practised 
  on 
  the 
  New 
  Jersey, 
  Delaware 
  and 
  Chesapeake 
  

   marshes, 
  the 
  gunners 
  being 
  poled 
  at 
  high 
  tide 
  through 
  the 
  flooded 
  coverts. 
  

   The 
  birds 
  are 
  called 
  rail-birds, 
  sorees 
  and 
  ortolans, 
  the 
  last 
  being 
  the 
  

   common 
  restaurant 
  name, 
  simply 
  because 
  a 
  Sora, 
  like 
  the 
  Ortolan 
  of 
  Europe, 
  

   is 
  a 
  small, 
  delicious 
  bird. 
  

  

  Mr 
  Brewster 
  gives 
  the 
  following 
  account 
  in 
  Bird-Lore, 
  4, 
  2, 
  48: 
  

  

  In 
  the 
  more 
  open, 
  grassy 
  stretches 
  of 
  meadow, 
  as 
  well 
  as 
  among 
  the 
  

   beds 
  of 
  cat 
  -tail 
  flags, 
  but 
  seldom, 
  if 
  ever, 
  in 
  thickets 
  of 
  bushes, 
  we 
  also 
  hear, 
  

   after 
  the 
  middle 
  of 
  April, 
  mingling 
  with 
  the 
  notes 
  of 
  the 
  Virginia 
  rails 
  and 
  

   the 
  din 
  of 
  countless 
  frogs, 
  the 
  love 
  song 
  of 
  the 
  Carolina 
  rail, 
  a 
  sweet, 
  plain- 
  

   tive 
  er-e 
  given 
  with 
  a 
  rising 
  inflection 
  and 
  suggesting 
  one 
  of 
  the 
  "scatter 
  

   calls" 
  of 
  the 
  Quail. 
  Such, 
  at 
  least, 
  is 
  its 
  general 
  effect 
  at 
  distances 
  of 
  from 
  

   fifty 
  to 
  two 
  or 
  three 
  hundred 
  yards, 
  but 
  very 
  near 
  at 
  hand 
  it 
  develops 
  a 
  

   somewhat 
  harsh 
  or 
  strident 
  quality 
  and 
  sounds 
  more 
  like 
  kd-e, 
  while 
  at 
  the 
  

   extreme 
  limits 
  of 
  ear 
  range 
  one 
  of 
  the 
  syllables 
  is 
  lost 
  and 
  the 
  other 
  might 
  

   be 
  easily 
  mistaken 
  for 
  the 
  peep 
  of 
  a 
  Pickering 
  hyla. 
  This 
  note, 
  repeated 
  

   at 
  short, 
  regular 
  intervals, 
  many 
  times 
  in 
  succession, 
  is 
  one 
  of 
  the 
  most 
  

   frequent 
  as 
  well 
  as 
  pleasing 
  voices 
  of 
  the 
  marsh 
  in 
  the 
  early 
  morning 
  and 
  

   just 
  after 
  sunset. 
  It 
  is 
  also 
  given 
  intermittently 
  at 
  all 
  hours 
  of 
  the 
  day, 
  

   especially 
  in 
  cloudy 
  weather, 
  while 
  it 
  is 
  often 
  continued, 
  practically 
  without 
  

   cessation, 
  through 
  the 
  entire 
  night. 
  

  

  Equally 
  characteristic 
  of 
  this 
  season 
  and 
  even 
  more 
  attractive 
  in 
  

   quality 
  is 
  what 
  has 
  been 
  termed 
  the 
  "whinny" 
  of 
  the 
  Carolina 
  rail. 
  It 
  

   consists 
  of 
  a 
  dozen 
  or 
  fifteen 
  short 
  whistles 
  as 
  sweet 
  and 
  clear 
  in 
  tone 
  as 
  a 
  

   silver 
  bell, 
  the 
  first 
  8 
  or 
  10 
  uttered 
  very 
  rapidly 
  in 
  an 
  evenly 
  descending 
  

   scale, 
  the 
  remaining 
  ones 
  more 
  deliberately 
  and 
  in 
  a 
  unifonn 
  key. 
  The 
  

   whole 
  series 
  is 
  often 
  followed 
  by 
  a 
  varying 
  number 
  of 
  harsher, 
  more 
  drawling 
  

   notes 
  given 
  at 
  rather 
  wide 
  intervals. 
  Although 
  it 
  is 
  probable 
  that 
  the 
  

   "whinny" 
  is 
  made 
  by 
  both 
  sexes 
  I 
  have 
  actually 
  traced 
  it 
  only 
  to 
  the 
  female. 
  

   She 
  uses 
  it, 
  apparently, 
  chiefly 
  as 
  a 
  call 
  to 
  her 
  mate, 
  but 
  I 
  have 
  also 
  repeat- 
  

   edly 
  heard 
  her 
  give 
  it 
  just 
  after 
  I 
  had 
  left 
  the 
  immediate 
  neighborhood 
  of 
  

   her 
  nest, 
  seemingly 
  as 
  an 
  expression 
  of 
  triumph 
  or 
  rejoicing 
  at 
  the 
  discovery 
  

   that 
  her 
  eggs 
  had 
  not 
  been 
  molested. 
  When 
  especially 
  anxious 
  for 
  their 
  

   safety 
  and 
  circling 
  close 
  about 
  the 
  human 
  intruder 
  she 
  often 
  utters 
  a 
  low 
  

   whinnying 
  murmur 
  closely 
  resembling 
  that 
  which 
  the 
  muskrat 
  makes 
  while 
  

   pursuing 
  his 
  mate 
  and 
  sometimes 
  a 
  cut-cut-cutta 
  not 
  unlike 
  the 
  song 
  of 
  the 
  

  

  