208 
THE CABINET OF NATURAL HISTORY 
that these migrations do actually take place, from north to 
south, and vice versa, may be fairly inferred from the com- 
mon practice of thousands of other species of birds less 
solicitous of concealment, and also from the following 
facts: 
On the twenty-second day of February, I killed two of 
these birds in the neighbourhood of Savannah, in Georgia, 
where they have never been observed during the summer. 
On the second of the May following, I shot another in a 
watery thicket below Philadelphia, between the rivers 
Schuylkill and Delaware, in what is usually called the 
Neck. This last was a male, in full plumage. We are also 
informed, that they arrive at Hudson’s Bay early in June, 
and again leave that settlement for the south early in au- 
tumn. That many of them also remain here to breed is 
proved by the testimony of persons of credit and intelli- 
gence with whom I have conversed, both here and on 
James river in Virginia, who have seen their nests, eggs 
and young. In the extensive meadows that border the 
Schuylkill and Delaware, it was formerly common, before 
the country was so thickly settled there, to find young Rail 
in the first mowing time, among the grass. Mr. James 
Bartram, brother to the botanist, a venerable and active 
man of eighty-three, and well acquainted with this bird, 
says, that he has often seen and caught young Rail in his 
own meadows in the month of June; he has also seen their 
nest, which he says is usually in a tussock of grass, is formed 
of a little dry grass, and has four or five eggs of a dirty 
whitish colour, with brown or blackish spots; the young 
run off as soon as they break the shell, are then quite black, 
and run about among the grass like mice. The old ones he 
has very rarely observed at that time, but the young often. 
Almost every old settler along these meadows, with whom 
I have conversed, has occasionally seen young Rail in mow- 
ing time; and all agree in describing them as covered with 
blackish down. There can, therefore, be no reasonable 
doubt as to the residence of many of these birds both here 
and to the northward during the summer. That there can 
be as little doubt relative to their winter retreat, will appear 
more particularly towards the sequel of the present account. 
During their residence here, in summer, their manners 
exactly correspond with those of the Water Crake of Bri- 
tain already quoted; so that, though actually a different spe- 
cies, their particular habits, common places of resort, and 
eagerness for concealment, are as nearly the same as the 
nature of the climates will admit. 
Early in August, when the reeds along the shores of the 
Delaware have attained their full growth, the Rail resort to 
them in great numbers, to feed on the seeds of this plant, 
of which they, as well as the Rice-birds, and several others, 
are immoderately fond. These reeds, which appear to be 
the Zizania panicula effusa of Linnaeus, and the Zizania 
clavulosa of Wildenow, grow up from the soft muddy 
shores of the tide water, which are alternately dry, and 
covered with four or five feet of water. They rise with an 
erect, tapering stem, to the height of eight or ten feet, being 
nearly as thick below as a man’s wrist, and cover tracts along 
the river, of many acres. The cattle feed on their long green 
leaves with avidity, and wade in after them, as far as they 
dare safely venture. They grow up so close together that, 
except at or near high water, a boat can with difficulty make 
its way through among them. The seeds are produced at 
the top of the plant, the blossoms or male parts occupying 
the lower branches of the pannicle, and the seeds the higher. 
These seeds are nearly as long as a common sized pin, 
somewhat more slender, white, sweet to the taste, and very 
nutritive, as appears by their effects on the various birds 
that, at this season, feed on them. 
When the reeds are in this state, and even while in 
blossom, the Rail are found to have taken possession of 
them in great numbers. These are generally numerous in 
proportion to the full and promising crop of the former. 
As you walk along the embankment of the river, at this 
season, you hear them squeaking in every direction, like 
young puppies; if a stone be thrown among the reeds, there 
is a general outcry, and a reiterated kuk kuk kuk, some- 
thing like that of a guinea-fowl. Any sudden noise, or the 
discharge of a gun, produces the same effect. In the mean- 
time, none are to be seen, unless it be at or near high- 
water; for when the tide is low, they universally secrete 
themselves among the interstices of the reeds, and you may 
walk past, and even over them, where there are hundreds, 
without seeing a single individual. On their first arrival 
they are generally lean, and unfit for the table; but as the 
reeds ripen, they rapidly fatten, and from the twentieth of 
September to the middle of October, are excellent, and 
eagerly sought after. The usual method of shooting them, 
in this quarter of the country, is as follows: The sports- 
man furnishes himself with a light batteau, and a stout ex- 
perienced boatman, with a pole twelve or fifteen feet long, 
thickened at the lower end, to prevent it from sinking too 
deep into the mud. About two hours or so before high- 
water, they enter the reeds, and each takes his post, the 
sportsman standing in the bow ready for action, the boat- 
man on the stern seat, pushing her steadily through the 
reeds. The Rail generally spring singly, as the boat ad- 
vances, and at a short distance a-head, are instantly shot 
down, while the boatman, keeping his eye on the spot 
where the bird fell, directs the boat forward, and picks it 
up as the gunner is loading. It is also the boatman’s busi- 
ness to keep a sharp look-out, and give the word mark, 
when a Rail springs on either side, without being observed 
