56 My Pond. 



carried off by them for this purpose. A friend of mine 

 is certain that in the early spring mornings they have 

 even made efforts at carrying off japonica blossoms 

 from a wall in his garden, which lies not far from their 

 quarters. They always cover the eggs before leaving 

 the nest, either for concealment or for warmth. 



And what is perhaps more extraordinary still, as we 

 have said, is that these water-hens will, in the event of 

 flooding or the rise of the water, raise up the nest — 

 which is formed of the leaves of flags deftly interwoven 

 — to a considerable extent, probably by supporting it on 

 their backs and fixing it pro tern, to the most available 

 branch or spray, till they have reached a perfectly safe 

 elevation. Most frequently the nest is supported on a 

 branch or branches just a little above the water, so that 

 it is secure from certain egg-eating neighbours, like 

 rats or hedgehogs, who pursue their callings, in most 

 cases not far distant from the water-hen's nest. 



There can be no doubt about the water-hen's power 

 in raising the nest in floods. Here is a passage from 

 the description of a reliable observer: — 



"The nest was placed a few inches above the water, 

 and about seven feet from the river-bank. When we 

 first observed it, it contained eggs. These were soon 

 hatched, and great was the delight of the children to 

 watch the old birds scuffle away from the nest and 

 then to peep in and mark the progress of the brood. 

 One sad day heavy rain fell, a high flood followed, and 

 great was the children's grief over the little birds, which 

 they thought must be drowned and their nest swept 

 away. Our first excursion on the subsiding of the 

 flood was to the river-side nursery. What were the 

 delight and astonishment of the young folks at behold- 

 ing the nest firmly fixed to some of the reeds and 



