Mar., 1916 
THE FARALLON RAILS OF SAN DIEGO COUNTY 
59 
marsh enough to disturb the birds. This call is chiefly used during the early 
mating season, and also as a protest against intruders in their domain. Occa- 
sionally, however, I have heard it even in the late fall. 
With these birds there is a noticeable lack of uniformity in their nesting 
dates, as well as a great variation in the nests themselves as constructed by 
different pairs of birds. Sometimes the nests are raised well off the ground, 
but this is unusual. The more typical ground nests are greatly affected by the 
tides. Some that I have seen were fully five inches thick, with as many as 
three distinct layers, showing how often reconstruction had been necessary. 
The earliest nesting date of which I have record was March 24, 1912, when 
a complete set of five eggs was taken. In this case the nest had been rebuilt 
three times on account of 
recent rains and high 
tides. The latest date 
which I have encountered 
was May 25, 1909. On 
that day 1 started on a last 
casual ‘ 1 hike ’ ’ through 
the marsh with nothing 
more than that undying 
hope, born in all bird 
hunters, to offset my slim 
chance of finding any- 
thing so late in the 
spring. Suddenly, how- 
ever, I flushed a Farallon 
Rail, and after careful 
search I found a well ele- 
vated nest, some ten 
inches above the ground, 
which contained four 
partly incubated eggs at 
that time. These eggs are 
the smallest which I have 
ever seen, tending, in fact, 
to be almost runts. They 
measure, respectively, 
.87x.69, ,94x.74, ,95x.72, 
,95x.73, with an average 
of .92x.72. The normal eggs average about 1.02x.90, these figures denoting 
inches. 
Another set, which is the one shown in the photograph (fig. 23), was found 
on the late date of May 13, 1914. The eight eggs of this clutch constitute 
one of the largest authentic sets known. It was situated in the thickest of 
salicornia, or fleshy marsh weed, and was found after a steady tramp of four 
hours duration. 
The method of search for these rarities may be of some interest to Condor 
readers. Sometimes their discovery is due to sheer good luck, but much more 
often it is the fruit of hard and persistent work. The thickly matted marsh 
growth is so dense that it is impossible to see through it, so that one has to turn 
Fig. 24. Farallon Rail, photographed in captivity: 
UNDECIDED WHETHER TO CROUCH AND HIDE, OR TO 
DIVE INTO THE DENSE MARSH VEGETATION 
