The negroes often assured me that a precipitous gully, that cleaves the mountain behind Bluefields, thickly clothed with large timber, abounded with these birds, but it was not until February that I obtained a specimen. At that time the parching drought having wasted the mountain pools, I was told that Clucking-hens might be met with in numbers, at the edge of the woods around the spot where the spring of Bluefields River gushes out of the mountain’s foot. It was said that many were in the habit of selecting high trees in that vicinity as roosting-places. My servants having on several evenings heard the loud cries of these birds proceeding from the spot, I sent them thither one evening to watch. As night drew on, the birds were seen and heard around, and though they could not obtain a shot, they succeeded in getting a more definite knowledge of the individual trees selected. An evening or two afterwards, I myself went to the spot with them: before sunset the loud cry of one was heard, apparently descending the mountain, but it was not until the grey twilight was fading into darkness that we began to hear them screaming and flying around. The notes were singular; sometimes a series of shrill screams were uttered in succession, then a harsh cry, _krau, krau, krau, kreaow_. All were loud, sudden, and startling. More than one alighted on a large hog-plum not far off, a tree which they seem to affect, but were too wary to allow of my approaching within gun-shot. Sam, who was watching a hundred yards distant, was more fortunate, for as I was stealthily creeping towards my bird, I heard the report of his piece, and had the satisfaction of learning that he had secured his game, the first specimen of this interesting bird that I had an opportunity of examining. The ordinary spring-rains were distressingly deficient in 1846; and hence I presume it was, that, through the month of April, several birds of this species were in the habit of frequenting the morasses on each side of the swiftly-flowing Paradise River. Where the bridle-path called the Short Cut crosses the stream, there grow many bushes of Black-Withe, about as large as an ordinary apple-tree; many of these are clothed with a dense and matted drapery of convolvolus so thick as to hide the bush completely. On the very summit of these bushes, the Clucking-hens might often be seen at early day, the tangled creepers affording a support for their broad feet, where they stood and turned without sinking and without embarrassment. They stood boldly erect, as if watching, their dark figures relieved against the sky, in an attitude exactly like that of an Ibis, though they flirted the tail in the manner of a Rail. At brief intervals they uttered a short sharp sound, and sometimes the loud harsh scream, _krēaow_. On being alarmed, they flew heavily and slowly, with the long legs hanging down, and the neck stretched forward, having a very awkward appearance in the air.