72 EVERYDAY BIRDS 
This notion that water is employed in the pro- 
duction of the bittern’s notes has been generally 
entertained. The notes themselves are of a char- 
acter to suggest such an hypothesis, and at least 
one witness has borne circumstantial testimony 
to its truth. In Thoreau’s essay on the “ Natu- 
ral History of Massachusetts,”’ he says : — 
“On one occasion, the bird has been seen by 
one of my neighbors to thrust its bill into the 
water, and suck up as much as it could hold; 
then, raising its head, it pumped it out again 
with four or five heaves of the neck, throwing it 
two or three feet, and making the sound each 
time.”’ 
Similar statements have been made as to the 
corresponding notes of the European bittern. 
None of our systematic writers upon American 
ornithology have ever witnessed the performance, 
as far as appears, and being too honest to draw 
upon their imaginations, they have left the matter 
a mystery. Now, on this auspicious May after- 
noon, if we learned nothing else, we could at all 
events make quite sure whether or not the bittern 
did really spout water from his beak. 
My readers will have guessed already that our 
bird, at least, did nothing of the sort. His bill 
was never within reach of water. The operation 
is a queer one, hard to describe. 
