106 WATER BIRDS 



It has a large vocabulary of calls ranging from harsh 

 squawks to pathetic complaining cries not unlike the skirl 

 of a bagpipe. It is a common resident on the fresh- 

 water marshes of California, where it can be heard much 

 oftener than seen ; for it is exceedingly shy, and its dusky 

 plumage renders it inconspicuous among the rushes. In 

 swimming it has a rather awkward way of sitting up 

 very straight and bobbing its head with every stroke of 

 its feet. Feeding on the mud-flats, it dips daintily, as it 

 picks its way through the tangled reeds after the manner 

 of the king rail. Its nest is of dried tule or marsh grass, 

 lined with softer grass of the meadow, the latter being 

 brought there from a distance. All about the rim of the 

 structure the rushes are broken to form a guard for 

 the eggs, for although usually about three inches deep 

 the nests are sometimes only a sli allow platform. The 

 young run about like tiny black chicks, and pick up a 

 living from the water, almost as soon as they are hatched. 

 It would be impossible to distinguish them from young 

 clapper rails except for the sprinkling of white hairs 

 among the black down. They are quite unlike little 

 chickens in one thing: at the warning call of the parent 

 they disappear noiselessly, as if by magic, or are meta- 

 morphosed into dark stones ; feathered barnyard babies, 

 on the other hand, run to the mother with cries of feai'. 



