148 BITTERN. 



amongst the beds of reeds, rushes, flags, or other rank, aquatic 

 vegetation, to come out with the shades of evening to seek its 

 food. The strange, booming, bellowing cry of the Bittern, when 

 heard across the marsh as night approaches, is not easily mistaken. 

 It is a love note of peculiar harshness, and seems to make the 

 ground itself vibrate ; but when the bird is suddenly flushed by day, 

 it makes a sharp cry on rising, not unlike that of the Wild Goose. 



From the green marshes of the stagnant brook 

 The Bittern's sullen shout the sedges shook. 



Scott. 



The Bittern was formerly much esteemed on the table. Its 

 flesh resembles that of the leveret in colour, with a wild-fowl 

 flavour. When struck down either by a Hawk, or with the gun, it 

 is very fierce, throwing itself on its back, so as to make it very 

 dangerous to the dog or man who approaches it. 



Many specimens of the Bittern exist in houses throughout 

 Herefordshire, killed since the beginning of the century. The 

 latest well authenticated instances are : one killed from the moat of 

 Bronshill Castle, beyond Eastnor, in 1854, which is now in the Here- 

 ford Museum; one killed at Backney Marsh, near Ross, in 1854; 

 one killed by the late Mr. Griffiths, of Newcourt, at Staunton-on- 

 Wye, in 1861, and now in the possession of Sir Henry Cotterell ; 

 one shot on Staunton Common a few weeks after (1861) by Mr. 

 Pearce, of Calver Hill, Norton Canon. It was the male bird, and 

 notwithstanding that it had a broken wing, it fought so desperately, 

 that it was only secured with difficulty. A Bittern was shot at 

 Sellack, near Ross, in 1880, and brought to the Free Library for 

 identification; and the Rev. Morgan Watkins mentions another 

 that was killed at Dulas, on April loth, 1887. Some other single 

 birds are reported as having been killed within the last few years 

 on the river Lugg, at Shobdon, Backney Marsh, and elsewhere. 



Mr. Done, of the Moor, near Hay, says that a Bittern was 

 seen there alive by his keeper, in the spring of 1885. 



No more the screaming Bittern, bellowing harsh, 

 To the dark bottom shakes the shuddering marsh. 



Leyden. — Scenes of Infancy. 



