THE BITTERN 79 



ing the edge of the swamp, to listen for the 

 desired coo-coo-coo-coo, and had barely made my- 

 self comfortable when I heard the plum-pudd'n* 

 of the bittern himself, proceeding, as it seemed, 

 from the reeds directly at my feet. Further lis- 

 tening satisfied me that the fellow was not far 

 from the end of a rocky peninsula which juts 

 into the swamp just at this point. 



I slipped down the cliff as quietly as possible, 

 picked my way across the narrow neck leading to 

 the main peninsula, and by keeping behind rocks 

 and trees managed to reach the very tip without 

 disturbing the bird. Here I posted myself among 

 the thick trees, and awaited a repetition of the 

 boom. It was not long in coming, and plainly 

 proceeded from a bunch of flags just across a 

 little stretch of clear water. 



I looked and looked, while the bittern con- 

 tinued to pump at rather protracted intervals ; 

 but I could see nothing whatever, till presto ! 

 there the creature stood in plain sight. 



Whether he had moved into view, or had all 

 the time been visible, I cannot tell. He soon 

 pumped again, and then again, for perhaps six 

 times. Then he stalked away out of sight, and 

 I heard nothing more. He was much nearer 

 than last year's bird had been, but was still a 

 pumper, not a stake-driver, and his action was in 

 all respects the same as I had before witnessed. 



