THE CAROLINA RAIL. 
583 
Atlantic coast from New England to Florida. It is designated by various names, as Mud-hen, 
Meadow Rail, Big Rail, etc. Though occasionally found along the muddy shores and tide 
waters of our large rivers, its principal residence is in the salt marshes. It is a bird of passage, 
arriving on the coast of New Jersey about the twentieth of April, and retiring again about the 
last of September.” 
The shores of New Jersey seem to be a favorite breeding-place for this species, where they 
are regarded as being nearly double in number to any other marsh fowl. It announces its 
arrival by a harsh and incessant cackling, which resembles that of a guinea fowl. This noise 
is always greatest during the night, and loudest before a storm. The general aspect of this 
bird when alive is a remarkable thinness of body. This condition serves them well, as when 
alarmed it is enabled to rush through the thickly-standing reeds with great facility ; when a 
fatter, or, rather, a stouter bird, would meet some resistance. In smooth water it swims well, 
but not fast ; sitting high in the water, with neck erect, and striking with great rapidity. 
When on shore, it runs with neck extended, the tail erect, and frequently flirted up. On fair 
ground, it runs almost as fast as a man. In a long stretch, it flies with great velocity, much 
in the manner of a duck, with extended neck. The flesh of this bird is dry, and is not 
esteemed. It measures fourteen inches in length, and eighteen in alar extent. The bill is two 
and a quarter inches long. The sexes are closely similar. 
The Caeolina Rail ( Porzana Carolina ) , cal 1 ed also Sora, and Ortolan. It inhabits the entire 
temperate North American continent, and is especially abundant along the Atlantic coast during 
the migrations. It breeds from the Middle Districts northward. Winters in the Southern States, 
and beyond. Reaches Venezuela, several West India islands, and northward, Greenland. It is 
accidental in Europe. In the Mississippi region it is not noticeably abundant. About Great 
Salt Lake it is rather common. 
Of all our land or water fowl, this bird affords the sportsman more occupation than any 
other. The Sora, as it is called in the reed swamps of Virginia and Carolina, is esteemed very 
highly as a table delicacy. For four or five weeks, these birds, during the migrating season, 
offer excellent sport. 
In habit, this bird is timid, and fond of concealment during the day. It frequents low, 
marshy grounds, and runs swiftly. It runs with the body near the ground, and makes a turn 
with astonishing celerity. Its time for exertion is at night, when it comes forth to feed, or in 
the early morning, uttering the inharmonious cry that characterizes all of the species. This 
cry is remarkable for its seeming ventriloquial character, appearing to be about four yards off, 
and again in an opposite direction. 
Early in August, when the reeds along the shore of the Delaware have gotten full growth, 
the Rails resort to them in great numbers, to feed on the seeds of this plant. They may be 
heard among the reeds, their voices, in great numbers, resembling the squealing of young 
puppies. If a stone be thrown among them, there is a general outcry of kuk-kuk-kitk, resem- 
bling, somewhat, the voice of a guinea fowl. Though there may be hundreds of individuals 
in the reeds near you, there will be none seen, so completely do they conceal themselves. 
Indeed, a sort of protective resemblance is noticeable in their plumage, a kind of amber-green, 
closely resembling the stalks of the reeds. In the fall, when the reeds have ripened, the Rails 
are very fat from feeding on the seeds. 
This Rail is nine inches long, and fourteen in extent of wing. The males are distinguished 
by their ashy-blue breasts, and black throats. 
Some singular habits are noticed in most of the species of Rails, that resemble the hys- 
terical, or epileptic condition. Mr. Ord relates a circumstance : He saw, projecting from a 
spout in his yard, the legs of a Rail. It was taken indoors, and found to be in perfect health. 
While it lay quietly, Mr. Ord pointed at it, when it suddenly sprang forward, apparently 
much irritated, fell to the floor, and, stretching out its legs, and bending its neck until the 
head nearly touched the back, became to all appearances lifeless. Thinking it had injured 
itself, he took it up, and it was a considerable length of time before it recovered itself. On the 
following day, he repeated the experiment, when it suddenly retreated, ruffled its feathers, 
