THE SORA RAIL 235 
pass along as well as if on dry ground, or swim- 
ming as buoyantly as ducks in the stretches of 
clear water, bobbing their heads much as does 
a hen when walking. Whether walking or run- 
ning (and they are seldom still for an instant) 
they are continually flirting their tails about, 
usually carrying them jauntily erect. In the 
spring these high tides are often very destruc- 
tive to rail’s nests and eggs. 
If the Sora is wounded, but uninjured in the 
legs, you may as well give up all idea of captur- 
ing it without a dog; for it runs rapidly through 
tangled and matted grass, where you would 
scarcely expect it to make any headway, and it 
can swim as well under water as on the surface. 
It is not uncommon to see them dive and cling 
to the bottom as long as possible, only letting 
go when half-drowned, and then making their 
way to some hiding place in the grass where 
they may put their heads out in safety. 
The rail is an easy mark for the shooter be- 
cause of its slow and steady flight, except when 
traveling before a brisk breeze, when, of course, 
it moves fast enough. However, rail shooting 
requires a bit more skill than ‘‘potting’’ swal- 
lows on a telegraph wire, even though it may 
