306 Union Bay 



areas of the United States, raising its young in nests usually 

 situated in or at the edge of the marsh, sticking to the ground 

 and seldom flying except in migration or during the mating 

 season. I observed that it often drew its neck close to the 

 body and so altered its silhouette that it looked like a differ- 

 ent bird. Its call, oong-ka-choonk, sounded to me exactly 

 like the grunting of a pitcher pump which brought the rain 

 water from my aunt's cistern to her kitchen. I had watched 

 the spring nights of the bitterns over the marsh. They were 

 made, I was certain, to impress their prospective mates. I 

 occasionally saw one of the young— perverse infants which, 

 when faced, often refused to rush into the cattails, but 

 merely ruffled their feathers and resentfully defied me before 

 moving away. 



The question of how these big and slow birds could exist 

 successfully in an area of low growth and limited size puz- 

 zled me for a long time. Obviously, flight was not the an- 

 swer. Ground speed was not enough. What other method 

 was available? 



Observation taught me that this bird relied principally on 

 concealment. Even if time were plentiful, it refused to fly or 

 to rush into the shelter of the marsh growth. Instead, after 

 settling into a steady position, it stiffened its body, erected 

 its neck, pointed its long bill vertically, and faced me so that 

 the light and dark browns, and the white streaks of the 

 breast, paralleled those of the cattail and reed background. 

 And there it would stand. Trucks could rattle by on the high- 

 way, powerboats could swish within a few yards, planes dip, 

 canoes splash by, or bombs explode at the beginning of the 

 football game, but the bird would remain motionless. "Easy 

 does it" seemed to be its motto. It seldom made a move un- 

 less the too-close approach of an intruder indicated that its 

 attempt at concealment had failed and only flight remained. 

 I could find no fault with its system, for the bird was a mas- 

 ter of camouflage. 



