THE COOT. 
809 
the pressure ot the Pheasant standing on the rail in front of 
the box. A Water-Hen, observing this, went and stood upon 
the rail as soon as the Pheasant had quitted it; hut the weight 
of the bird being insufficient to raise the lid of the box, so as 
to enable it to get at the corn, the Water-Hen kept jumping 
on the rail, to give additional impetus to its weight; this 
partially succeeded, but not to the satisfaction of the 
sagacious bird. Accordingly it went off, and soon returning 
with another bird of its own species, the united weight of the 
two had the desired effect, and the successful pair enjoyed 
the benefit of their ingenuity. We can vouch for the truth 
of this singular instance of penetration, on the authority of 
the owner of the place where it occurred, and who witnessed 
the fact. 
Nearly allied to the Water-Hen is the well-known family 
of Coots ; they, too, build a simple rushy nest, but with this 
difference, — that instead of seeking to raise it above the 
i water, they seem to prefer its floating upon the very surface; 
where, of course, it is exposed to the double danger of being 
carried hither and thither, according as the wind blows ; or, 
if interwoven with reeds or bushes close to the water, of 
being covered, should the waters be raised by floods. But 
the Coot is apparently well aware of these possibilities, and 
accordingly guards against them: preventing the nests being 
carried away by ingeniously fastening the materials of which 
they are made to the rushes or osiers near them ; but at the 
same time, these fastenings are of such a nature as to allow 
of the nests rising with the water, so that no ordinary flood 
would expose them to the danger of immersion. The Coot, 
like the Water-Hen, covers her nest, and if not so effectually, 
yet with a most extraordinary rapidity. We have repeatedly 
watched a Coot quietly sitting on her nest; if the boat 
approaches, she rises, and immediately begins pecking away, 
right and left, which she continues to do till the enemy is so 
near, that she is compelled to decamp for her own preserva- 
tion. In this short time, however, she almost always contrives 
to cover her eggs ; and though the nest itself remains a very 
conspicuous object, a careless observer might pass it as 
deserted and empty. 
