136 FEATHERED RATS. 
amazing and lugubrious sound to come out 
of so small a throat. 
Then all at once he jerked his head out and 
back again, just likea snake, and crouched. 
A pause followed. Then, quick and silent, 
he ran for cover. He ran easily, not with his 
head down, as frequently portrayed, but with 
it up, and there was that peculiar ungainliness 
in his gait, a sort of rolling from side to side, 
which you will often see in a long-legged 
fowl—an odd motion, and one conducive to 
mirth. This lack of grace in running was all 
the more odd because in every other move- 
ment he was the embodiment of gracefulness, 
enhanced, perhaps, by the beautiful velvety 
manner in which his plumage was laid on. 
Came then, silent as a smoke-puff, literally 
drifting along, a striped form, green-yellow 
eyes that stared, and a round head—the 
poaching farm cat. She had not seen the 
water-rail—goodness knows how he knew of 
her presence either—but she seemed able to 
scent him. Very slowly, with an enormous 
amount of careful sniffing, she followed him 
into the mazy labyrinths of his beloved reed 
jungle. It was a well-worn path he had 
taken, one made and used by his acquaint- 
ances, the water-hens. 
There was no sign of the water-rail any- 
