KALLUS VIRGINIANUS, VIRGINIAN RAIL. 537 



Ilwi!., iUd. V, 1866, 92 (Hamilton, C. W.).— Trippe, ibid, vi, 1871, 118 (Miune- 

 sota, breeds).— Lawi!., Ann. Lye. N. Y. viii, 1866, 295.— Tuknb., B. B. Pa. 1869, 

 3.1 (not uncommon). — Mayn., Guide, 1870, 145. — Allen, Bull. M. C. Z. ii, 1H71, 

 357 (Florida); iii, 1872, 182 (Kansas).— Aiken, Pr. Bost. Soc.sv,1872, 210 (Col- 

 orado, breeding).— CouES, Key, 1872, 273.— Snow, B. Kans. 1873, 11. — Ridgw., 

 Ann. Lye. N. Y. s, 1874, 887 (Illinois). 



Aramus (Pardirallus) virginimius, Gray, Hand-lLst, iii, 1871, 59, No. 10419. 



Ballus aquaticus var. (S, Lath., Ind. Orn. il, 1790, 755. 



Ballus limicola, Vielll., Ency. Meth. 1823, p. 1059. 



Eab. — Entire United States and British Provinces. Breeds commonly in New Eng- 

 land. Winters in the Southern States and beyond. South to Guatemala. Cuba. 

 Not obtained by the Expeditions. 



A night at Soda Lake, the d6bouclmre of that singular river, the Mo- 

 jave, was one of the strangest, as well as most uncomfortable, I ever 

 passed. It was late in October, and the full moon threw a pale, uncer- 

 tain light upon a scene of desolation and of death. On one side stretched 

 the interminable desert of shifting sand, broken here and there by 

 clumps of the foul creasote plant, straggling patches of grease-wood 

 and bitter sage, and scattered, sentinel-like, Spanish bayonet. Along the 

 road just traversed were strewn bleached skeletons of beasts that had 

 fallen in their tracks beneath the scorching rays of the sun. At the 

 foot of some cliffs near by lay whitening the heads and horns of the 

 argali ( Ovis montana), shot by previous travelers. The bare bones looked 

 of double size and fantastic shape in the uncertain moonlight. Before 

 us lay a dead-white sea of salty efflorescence, where the lake had evap- 

 orated or sunk in the sand, leaving its saline matter. It was dry, ex- 

 cept toward the middle, where dark green masses of Tule reeds, con- 

 trasting with the snowy whiteness all around, showed that a little water 

 was left. Our animals, like ourselves, were exhausted ; one poor crea^ 

 ture, cruelly over-tasked, had given birth to a foal, and lay groaning by 

 the wayside, unable to rise. The water was too nauseous to drink, and 

 hardly answered to cook with. After a poor meal, we lay down with 

 gloomy thoughts. But sleep was impossible, though wrapped never so 

 closely, head and all, in our blankets. We contended with a blood- 

 thirsty swarm of mosquitoes, wafted like a cloud from the stagnant 

 pools. Every breath of air seemed to vibrate to the continuous hum of 

 the insects; it was open onslaught, as well as stealthy attack, with 

 them, as we huddled around the camp-fire, on the side to which the 

 smoke was wafted, enveloped in blankets, and impatiently waiting the 

 day. We were bitten on every exposed point ; for days afterward our 

 hands and faces were sore and swollen, inflamed by the tinj^ drops of 

 poison instilled into each wound. 



But even under such circumstajpces I was gratified by the presence of 

 feathered friends. At nightfall some Mallard and Teal settled into the 

 rushes, gabbling curious vespers as they went to rest. A few Marsh 

 Wrens had appeared on the edge of the reeds, queerly balancing them- 

 selves on the thread-like leaves, seesawing to their own quaint music. 

 Then they were hushed, and as darkness settled down, the dull, heavy 

 croaking of the frogs played bass to the shrill falsetto of the insects. 

 Suddenly they too were hushed in turn, frightened, may be, into silence ; 

 and from the heart of the bnllrushes, "crik-crik-riJc-lc-Jc-h," lustily 

 .shouted some wide-awake Eail, to be answered by another and another, 

 till the reeds resounded. Then all was silent again till the most cou- 

 rageous frog renewed his pipes. The Eail are, partially at least, noc- 

 turnal. During such moonlight nights as this they are on the alert, 

 patrolling the marshes through the countless covered ways among the 

 reeds, stopping to cry "all's well" as they pass on, or to answer the 

 challenge of a distant watchman. That they feed by night, as well as 



