V, 
CHESTNUT-BELLIED RAIL. 
Rail I have seen. I sent him specially to the North-west to find out anything 
possible about it. He writes : “ This bird one hears but seldom sees, as it never 
leaves the thick patches of mangrove. I have heard one nearly every day since I 
camped in the mangroves, but it is very shy and lives in the thickest patch of 
scrub. The only chance of seeing them, is to sit still, not an easy matter, as 
the mosquitoes and sand-flies are numerous. The specimen forwarded was 
obtained by a fluke. I had watched for it for an hour and could stand the 
pests no longer, so started home ; and having killed a Poecilodryas, was plugging 
its mouth, etc., when I saw something move in a bunch of young mangroves 
about fifteen yards away. I fired a half charge and secured a specimen of this 
bird. The legs are very heavy and muscular. The ‘ drumstick ’ measured 
three and one quarter inches in circumference after the skin was removed. 
It builds a flat nest of sticks in a low mangrove, choosing a slanting tree up 
which it can easily climb. The natives aver that this bird cannot fly, and their 
dogs catch them at times. 
“They moult in March. 
“ On March 7th I had a good look at one of these birds. It was walking 
in an open space in a mangrove-thicket. Its carriage was not unlike that of the 
Porphyrio 7nelanotus, and the tail was flicked in the same manner. The pectoral 
muscles are small and flabby when compared with the great development 
of the legs. One I wounded went off through the mangroves, flapping both 
wings and hopping on one leg — it made no attempt to fly. The mangroves, where 
they live, are very dense, and the aerial roots spread out and the stems grow close 
together on fairly firm mud, so the bird has a splendid opportunity of escaping 
by running. Sometimes they come very close to one, searching for food, which 
seemed to be a small shellfish. When probing in the smaU puddles of salt water, 
they put their heads in up to the eyes, the tail flicking all the time. So long 
as I remained seated I could move my gun, take off my hat, etc., without the 
bird taking any notice, but as soon as I stood up it ran off at great speed for 
about twenty yards, and then stopped and looked back at me. The natives say 
the old nests are repaired every year.” 
Again, the same man, writing from North-western Australia*, says : 
“ Chestnut-belhed Rail was secured at Storm Camp, 8 miles west of Malmalaro, 
26/8/02. It has a call that quite puzzles one on first acquaintance. The sound 
is unlike that of any other bird in the bush, consisting of alternate notes 
rapidly repeated many times, the first being more like the alarm notes of the 
white Cockatoo {G. galerita) ; the second Hke the drumming of an Emu, but 
much louder. The call is generally given when a gun is fired. On hearing 
the bird, I tried for hours to get a sight of it, my idea of it being that a 
* Emu VII., p. 142 (1908). 
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