strikes the water with its feet, as if unwilling to move far at a time, the
motion of its neck resembling that of the Gallinules. It dives well, remains
a considerable time under water, and in this manner dexterously
eludes its pursuers, although it certainly does not possess the power of
holding fast to the bottom, as some persons have alleged. When hard
pressed, it often sinks just below the surface, keeping the bill above in
order to breathe, and in this position, if not detected, remains for a considerable
time. If perceived and approached, it instantly dives, and uses
its wings to accelerate its progress, but rises as soon as it comes to a place
of safety.
Their movements on the ground, or over the partially submersed or
floating beds of weeds, are extremely rapid, and they run swiftly off before
a dog, the utmost exertions of which are required to force them on
wing. Such an attempt by man would prove utterly futile, unless he
were to come upon them unawares. When not pursued, and feeling secure,
they walk in a deliberate manner, the body considerably inclined,
now and then jerking the tail upwards, although by no means so frequently
as Gallinules are wont to do. On the least appearance of danger,
they lower the head, stretch out the neck, and move off with incomparable
speed, always in perfect silence. They have thousands of paths
among the rank herbage, crossing each other so often that they can very
easily escape pursuit; and besides, they have a power of compressing
their body to such a degree, as frequently to force a passage between two
stems so close, that one could hardly believe it possible for them to squeeze
themselves through. When put up, they fly slowly and generally straight
before you, with their legs dangling, so that they are very easily shot by
a quick sportsman, as they rarely fly far at a time on such occasions, but
prefer pitching down again into the first tuft of rank grass in their way.
When on their migrations, however, they pass low and swiftly over the
marshes, or the water, stretched to their full extent, and with a constant
beat of the wings.
The young, which are at first covered with down of a black colour,
obtain their full plumage before the winter arrives, and after this undergo
little change of colour, although they increase in size for a year after.
In the Eastern States, this species is not held in much estimation as an
article of food, perhaps in a great measure on account of the quantity of
Soras met with there during early autumn, and which are certainly more
delicate; but in the Southern States, especially during winter, they are
considered good for the table, and a great number are killed and offered
for sale in the markets. Numbers are destroyed by torch light, which so
dazzles their eyes, as to enable persons fond of the sport to knock them
down with poles or paddles during high tides. It is by day, however,
that they are usually shot, and as this kind of sport is exceedingly pleasant,
I will attempt to describe it.
About Charleston, in South Carolina, the shooting of Marsh Hens
takes place from September to February, a few days in each month during
the spring-tides. A light skiff or canoe is procured, the latter being
much preferable, and paddled by one or two experienced persons, the
sportsman standing in the bow, and his friend, if he has one with him,
taking his station in the stern. At an early hour they proceed to the
marshes, amid many boats containing parties on the same errand. There
is no lack of shooting-grounds, for every creek of salt-water swarms with
Marsh Hens. The sportsman who leads has already discharged his barrels,
and on either side of his canoe a bird has fallen. As the boat moves
swiftly towards them, more are raised, and although he may not be ready,
the safety of the bird is in imminent jeopardy, for now from another bark
double reports are heard in succession. The tide is advancing apace, the
boats merely float along, and the birds, driven from place to place, seek
in vain for safety. Here, on a floating mass of tangled weeds, stand a
small group side by side. The gunner has marked them, and presently
nearly the whole covey is prostrated. Now, onward to that great bunch
of tall grass all the boats are seen to steer; shot after shot flies in rapid
succession; dead and dying lie all around on the water; the terrified survivors
are trying to save their lives by hurried flight; but their efforts are
unavailing,—one by one they fall, to rise no more. It is a sorrowful
sight, after all: see that poor thing gasping hard in the agonies of death,
its legs quivering with convulsive twitches, its bright eyes fading into
glazed obscurity. In a few hours, hundreds have ceased to breathe the
breath of life; hundreds that erst revelled in the joys of careless existence,
but which can never behold their beloved marshes again. The cruel
sportsman, covered with mud and mire, drenched to the skin by the
splashing of the paddles, his face and hands besmeared with powder,
stands amid the wreck which he has made, exultingly surveys his
slaughtered heaps, and with joyous feelings returns home with a cargo of
game more than enough for a family thrice as numerous as his own. How
joyful must be the congratulations of those which have escaped, without