588 
THE WATER HEN. 
reedy refuge, it sinks nearer tlie surface of the water, so that at the last yard or two of 
its progress it drives the water before it, and seems equally to run or to fly. 
TV hen startled it often dives on the instant, and emerging under floating weeds or rubbish, 
just pokes its bill above the surface, so that the nostrils are uncovered by the water, and 
remains submerged until the danger is past, holding itself in the proper position by the grasp 
of its strong toes upon the weeds. If wounded, it will often escape by diving, so that unless 
the sportsman kills his birds on the spot he may lose bird after bird unless he has a good dog 
with him. Sometimes it pretends to be wounded, and drops into the shelter of reeds or 
bushes in so death-like a manner that the gunner is deluded into the idea that he has killed 
his bird very neatly, and while he is reloading away goes the Water Hen to some secure retreat. 
I once took a snap-shot from a boat at a fine male specimen, in a little pond at the end of 
an inlet, and to my astonishment, after backing to the mouth of the little stream, saw him 
swimming and nodding his head as coolly as if nothing had happened. I was going to give 
him the second barrel, but, being short of ammunition, determined to paddle quietly up the 
inlet in which the bird was swimming, and to knock it over with an oar. The bird took not 
the least notice of the boat, so I pushed the blade of the oar under it, lifted it out of the 
water, and brought it into the boat. On examination I found that it had been struck through 
the head with a shot ; I believe that in such cases the powers of volition are suddenly extin- 
guished, and that the bird continues to act according to the last impression upon the brain. 
Many birds, as every sportsman knows, will tower when shot, and I have found that in such 
instances they exhibit a singular tenacity of animal life. 
When free from persecution, the Water Hen soon becomes familiar with man, and will 
mix familiarly with domestic poultry, traversing the garden or farm-yard with easy confidence. 
It is apt, however, to be rather mischievous, eating fruit and vegetables of various kinds. The 
Reverend Mr. Atkinson writes : “The Moor Hens having been much encouraged, were very 
numerous, both about the moat and in two or three flaggy ponds in the adjoining pastures. I 
have seen as many as fourteen or fifteen at once upon one bed of cabbage plants. They picked 
the peas, the strawberries, the currants, the gooseberries, all in early stages of their growth, 
and they stripped the leaves of the newly -planted young cabbages and greens, until nothing 
was left but ragged fragments of the midrib and stalks.” 
The nesting of this bird is very peculiar. The Water Hen builds a large edifice of sedges, 
sticks, and leaves, either on the bank close to the water’s edge, upon little reedy islands, or 
on low banks overhanging the water, and generally very conspicuous. The mother-bird has a 
habit of scraping leaves and rushes over her eggs when she leaves the nest, not, as some persons 
fancy, to keep the eggs warm, but to hide them from the prying eyes of crows and magpies, 
jays, and other egg-devouring birds. 
The Moor Hen is by no means niggardly in her labor, but will build one or more extra 
nests, or rather rafts, for the accommodation of her young brood ; and in some cases will, 
without apparent reason, discard the nest in which the eggs have been hatched, build a new 
one, and transfer to it her little family. When thoroughly pleased with a locality the Moor 
Hen evinces a strong attachment to it, and returns to the same spot through several successive 
seasons. 
Should the water rise beyond its ordinary level, this bird is equal to the emergency, and 
rapidly elevates the nest by adding sticks and inserting them into the fabric. One bird 
generally remains by the nest and acts as builder, while the other searches for materials and 
brings them to its mate. Mr. Selby mentions an instance where the bird removed the eggs 
during the process of elevation, and replaced them after the completion of its labors. 
The young are able to swim almost as soon as hatched, and for some time remain close to 
their parents. I once, to my great regret, shot by mistake several young Moor Hens, still in their 
first suit of black puify down, and paddling about among the water lilies and other aquatic 
herbage where I could not see them. Pike are rather apt to carry off the little creatures 
by coming quickly unde the weeds and jerking them under water before they take the alarm. 
The male bird is dark five-green above; the head, neck, and under parts are blackish- 
gray. The under tail-coveiv end edges of the wings are white. The bill is green towards 
