AMERICAN BITTERN. 107 



known. In the "Old Country," it is very generally believed that 

 when the Bittern booms, the whole floating bog on which he is stand- 

 ing at the time vibrates with the sound. 



Burns knew this, and refers to it in his writings. We often wish 

 that he had said more about the birds, for the incidental references 

 he makes show that he was a close observer, and well acquainted 

 with their habits. 



This will be noticed in the passage Ln which the Bittern is referred 

 to. He is calling on the feathered tribes to join him in mourning 

 the loss of his friend, Capt. Matthew Henderson : 



" Mourn, ye wee songsters o' the wood; 

 Ye grouse that crap the heather-bud ; 

 Ye curlews calling thro' a clud ; 



Ye whistling plover ; 

 And mourn, ye whirring paitrick brood ; 



He's gane for ever ! 



' Mourn, sooty coots, and speckled teals, 

 Ye fisher herons, watching eels ; 

 Ye duck and drake, wi' airy wheels 



Circling the lake ; 

 Ye bitterns, till the quagmire reels, 



Rair for his sake. 



' Mourn, clam'ring oraiks, at close o' day, 

 'Mang fields o' flow'ring clover gay ; 

 And when ye wing your annual way 



Frae our cauld shore, 

 Tell thae far warlds, wha lies in clay. 



Wham we deplore. 



■ Ye houlets, frae your ivy bow'r 

 In some auld tree, or eldritch tow'r. 

 What time the moon, wi' silent glow'r. 



Sets up her horn. 

 Wail thro' the dreary midnight hour 

 Till waukrif e morn ! " 



In the spring the plumage of the American Bittern often looks 

 bleached and faded, but in the fall their shades of brown and yellow 

 are exceedingly rich. When wishing to escape notice, I have seen 

 them standing perfectly still among the bulrushes, with the neck 

 extended and the bill pointing straight upwards. On these occasions, 

 their colors were in such perfect harmony with the surroundings that 

 so long as they kept still they were rarely observed. 



