The Specialist Loses Control 3 1 1 



It snapped its bill and made its usual sound but made do at- 

 tempt to strike. I could hear its claws scrape as I drove. 



The director and two assistants greeted me with a cor- 

 diality that convinced me that I had come to the right place. 

 The bird began its hissing as we drew it from the box. A boy, 

 evidently the son of one of the assistants, laughed. I asked 

 him what amused him. 



"It's the noise the bittern makes," he replied. "I've seen 

 lots of birds and I've heard 'em make funny sounds, but I 

 never heard a bird growl before." 



The assistant drew his hand along the bird's breastbone. 



"It's thin and just about starved. We'll put it in with the 

 waders and see if it will take food." 



We entered the aviary and stood before the beautiful sec- 

 tion which housed the egrets and herons. It was a tropical 

 scene with a small pond in the foreground, a tree with 

 branches where the birds could perch and climb, and with 

 rich growth beneath. The small door in the rear opened and 

 the assistant prepared to introduce the bittern. The birds 

 observed the intruder and displayed some unrest by calling 

 and fluttering their wings. The bittern hissed, opened its bill, 

 but made no other movement. When the assistant dropped 

 it lightly into the pond where some small fish were floating, 

 I thought surely the bird would start feeding, but it moved 

 slowly toward the other side of the pond, crawled over the 

 edge, and lay down. 



The attendant shook his head and said, "It looks bad but 

 we'll do our best. We'll try to force-feed it if it doesn't eat. 

 But we'll wait until evening." 



The boy smiled sympathetically as I left. 



"Don't worry," he said, "I just know it'll get along all 



right.- 



I was not so hopeful as the boy. I had seen the cure and 

 release of many small birds which had been brought in with 

 broken wings, or otherwise injured, but I had never wit- 



