, the blades of
which are in many cases interwoven over the nest, apparently to shield
the bird from the fierce rays of the sun, which are felt with
redoubled force on the marshes.

The Rails feed on both vegetable and animal food. During the months of
September and October, the weeds and wild oats swarm with them. They
feed on the nutricious seeds, small snail shells, worms and larvae of
insects, which they extract from the mud. The habits of the Sora Rail,
its thin, compressed body, its aversion to take wing, and the
dexterity with which it runs or conceals itself among the grass and
sedge, are exactly similar to those of the more celebrated Virginia
Rail.

The Sora frequents those parts of marshes preferably where fresh water
springs rise through the morass. Here it generally constructs its
nest, "one of which," says an observer, "we had the good fortune to
discover. It was built in the bottom of a tuft of grass in the midst
of an almost impenetrable quagmire, and was composed altogether of old
wet grass and rushes. The eggs had been flooded out of the nest by the
extraordinary rise of the tide in a violent northwest storm, and lay
scattered about the drift weed. The usual number of eggs is from six
to ten. They are of a dirty white or pale cream color, sprinkled with
specks of reddish and pale purple, most numerous near the great end."

When on the wing the Sora Rail flies in a straight line for a short
distance with dangling legs, and suddenly drops into the water.

The Rails have many foes, and many nests are robbed of their eggs by
weasels, snakes, Blackbirds, and Marsh Hawks, although the last cannot
disturb them easily, as the Marsh Hawk searches for its food while
flying and a majority of the Rails' nests are covered over, making it
hard to distinguish them when the Hawk is above.

[Illustration: From col. Chi. Acad. Sciences.
SORA RAIL.]

THE SORA RAIL.

This is one of our fresh-water marsh birds. I show you his picture
taken where he spends most of his time.

If it were not for the note calls, these tall reeds and grasses would
keep from us the secret of the Rail's home.

Like most birds, though, they must be heard, and so late in the
afternoon you may hear their clear note, ker-wee.

From all parts of the marsh you will hear their calls which they keep
up long after darkness has set in.

This Rail was just about to step out from the grasses to feed when the
artist too