70 BIRD STUDIES WITH A CAMERA 



There is a mystery about a marsh akin to that 

 which impresses one in a primeval forest. The pos- 

 sibilities of both seem limitless. One hears so much 

 and sees so little. Birds calling from a distance of 

 only a few yards may remain long unidentified. A 

 rustling in the reeds arouses vague expectations. 



The notes of marsh-inhabiting birds are in keep- 

 ing with the character of their haunts. They are 

 distinctly wild and strange, and often thrilling. The 

 Rails, for example, all have singular, loud, startling 

 calls. The American Bittern is a famous marsh 

 songster, but although several of his common names 

 are based on his calls, it is only recently that he has 

 actually been seen uttering them. The Gallinule re- 

 sembles the hen in the character, volume, and variety 

 of its notes, and to it and not the Clapper Rail 

 should be given the name " Marsh Hen." Indeed, 

 its European relative, from which it can scarcely 

 be distinguished, is known as the Moor Hen or 

 Water Hen. 



But of all this marsh music none to my ear is 

 more singular than the call of the Pied-billed 

 Grebe. It is mentioned in few books, and has won 

 the bird no such fame as the Loon's maniacal laugh- 

 ter has brought him, though as a vocalist the Grebe 

 fairly rivals his large cousin. Like most bird calls 

 it is indescribable, but perhaps sufficient idea of its 

 character may be given to lead to its identification 

 when heard. It is very loud and sonorous, with a 

 cuckoolike quality, and may be written cow-cow- 

 cow-cow-cow-cow-cow-cow-cow-uh, cow-uh, cow-uh, 

 cow-uh. These notes vary in number, and are some- 

 times followed by prolonged wailing cows or ohs 



