where they were likely to go for food and shelter when their natural haunts were frozen over. When the ice has disappeared, the birds have returned. I have lately discovered, however, that they harbour in thick hedges and bushes, from which they are not easily driven; aware, probably, that they have no other shelter. They also get into thorn-trees, especially those covered with ivy, and probably feed on the berries, although their feet seem but ill-adapted for perching. During a very severe frost, a pair of Water-hens kept almost entirely in a large arbutus-tree on a lawn, which was inclosed by a high paling, and had no pond near it. Here they probably fed on the berries of the tree, and the other produce of the garden."[1]
The nest of this bird is composed of dry rushes, grass, or other coarse materials accumulated in considerable quantity among reeds or herbage, near the water's-edge; sometimes on the low branch of a tree which droops into the stream. In the "Naturalist," a case is recorded in which the nest floated on the water without any attachment whatever to the island which it adjoined, but was inclosed on all sides by sticks, &c. Thus situated, the careful parents hatched their eggs in perfect safety; though, had the water risen to an unusual height, the case might have been otherwise.
Curious instances of sagacity, or what one would call presence of mind, in this bird's behaviour when danger threatens her eggs or infant-brood, are on record, from which we select the following. The charming writer already quoted, Mr.
- ↑ Gleanings, p. 303
