This is the love song of the male, and when he has won a mate she joins him in singing, uttering, as he calls, a rapid cuk-cuk-cuk, followed by a slower ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh.
The Gallinules were cackling in the reeds, where a nest with three hatching eggs was found, but not a bird was seen. Red-winged Blackbirds were chattering with excitement as they guided the first wing strokes of their young, who perched on the reeds begged eloquently for food rather than for lessons in flying.[35]
35. Young Red-winged Blackbirds.
In a small island of cat-tails a pair of Grebes was calling, and after the most careful stalking my companion saw the female respond to the voice of her mate.
It was in this island—if a patch of cat-tails growing in three feet of water can be called an island—that we found the first two of numerous Least Bitterns’ nests, and here our camera studies were made. These nests were typical in form and site; one contained five and the other four[32] eggs, from which the birds had apparently departed as we pushed our boat toward them.
Less than twenty minutes later we again passed these nests and found, to our surprise, that in one all four, and in the other two eggs had been punctured, as if by an awl. Here was a mystery which my companion, who was examining the second nest while I was studying the first, quickly solved by seeing a Long-billed Marsh Wren actually make an attack on the remaining three eggs, and a little later a bird of the same species—perhaps the same individual, since the Bitterns’ nests were not more than twenty yards apart—visited the first nest to complete its work on the five already ruined eggs.
Our attempt to photograph the energetic little marauder failed, nor did we succeed in learning the real cause of its remarkable destructiveness. However, the fact that in one nest alone it drove its needlelike bill into all five eggs without pausing to feast on their contents, would imply that it was not prompted by hunger, and, much against our will, we were forced to attribute the bird’s actions to pure viciousness; though, it is true, there may have been another side to the story, in which the Bittern was the culprit.
The owners of the four eggs did not return while we were present, and the following day we found their nest empty—a mute protest against fate.
