HARDWICKE'S SCIENCE-GOSSIP. 



I5 1 



SOME COMMON WADING-BIRDS. 

 By P. QuiN Keegan, LL.D. 



ALONG, desolate tract of seaboard, a waste of 

 surfy sand far out in mid-channel, where the 

 mussel and the grass-wrack flourish, these are the 

 homes and haunts of the long-shanked wading-birds. 

 No sooner has the ebbing tide laid bare the weed-clad 

 shore, than flocks of birds, strung in long lines or 

 dilated in wedge-shaped fashion, and flying freshly 

 with hot haste and swiftness, suddenly alight upon 

 the slimy, pool-dimpled land just won from the sea. 

 Immediately they scatter themselves abroad, and 

 commence assiduously to work in quest of food. 

 Manageable molluscs, tiny crustaceans, even grass- 

 wrack or other stranded seaweeds, are greedily 

 devoured. These shore birds have a physical organi- 

 sation marvellously adapted to their peculiar habits 

 of life : long, thin, agile legs and feet eminently 

 convenient for wading ; long, thin, sensitive bills 

 exceedingly well qualified for probing the depths of 

 wet sand and slimy ooze, are immediately perceptible. 

 Their powers of flight are extremely capable, their 

 senses are piercingly keen, acute, well-practised, so 

 that they are eminently fitted, when danger threatens, 

 to take care of "number one." They are at once 

 patient and indefatigable, and live in harmony with 

 birds of a different degree. Beautiful is their aspect, 

 their movements are easy and nimble, and their 

 carriage and gait are characterised by supreme 

 gracefulness. 



The wandering lover of shore scenery, the frequenter 

 of wild moorland wastes, of desolate inland lakes, or 

 of old ancestral park woods, soon becomes familiar 

 with the extraordinary and most interesting aspect of 

 these wading-birds. To all others they are almost 

 wholly unknown. Their haunts are local, and com- 

 paratively few situations are suitable to their charac- 

 teristic habits or mode of life. They are not of a 

 roving disposition ; their range of migration is com- 

 paratively limited, and, save during the breeding 

 season, they rigidly eschew the human presence as 

 much as possible, so that to many the book of their 

 nature is sealed up. The stern and unrelenting 

 persecution by human sportsmen reiterated for 

 centuries has rendered them excessively shy and 

 suspicious. Marvellously fashioned by nature for the 

 pursuit of a career under peculiar circumstances of 

 situation, &c, the artificial hostility of man has super- 

 induced upon their original nature an acuteness and 

 readiness of perception, a fertility of precautionary 

 resource, and an ingeniousness of device which happily 

 is not common amongst their feathered mates of sea 

 or land. 



In the whole range of British ornithology there is 

 no grander or more interesting bird than the common 

 Heron {Ardea cinerea). At the extreme verge of the 

 shore when the tide has ebbed, he stands, his tall, 



gaunt, erect figure relieved conspicuously against the 

 clear background of sea. On the margin of exten- 

 sive plots of slimy ooze where the grass-wrack grows, 

 near pools where the active and pugnacious shore-crab 

 lurks, where the whelk and mussel abound, away at 

 a secure precautionary distance from the haunts of 

 man, there he may be observed. Motionless and 

 silent for the most part is his aspect. Sometimes 

 balanced securely on one leg, with his long snake- 

 like neck shrunken down to his breast, he stands, 

 crouched and lowly, upon some outlying ledge of sand, 

 his ashy-blue plumage gleaming in the sun. Again, 

 with neck and limbs outstretched to their utmost limit, 

 and in a curious, contemplative attitude, motionless 

 as a statue, he stands over some slimy pool where 

 some moving crab or other edible morsel has aroused 

 his expectations with the prospect of something 

 tasty. The cold piercing sea-wind blows over his 

 arched form, but, save the long crest, ruffles not a 

 feather of his plumage ; or mayhap the rain pours 

 lavishly, yet it occasions no dripping discomfort to him. 



Strong light appears to act as a sedative upon the 

 heron's native activity. Occasionally indeed, in the 

 day-time he may be observed to fly with a heavy 

 lumbering wing from place to place ; but, generally 

 speaking, his occupation is simply to stand at ease 

 upon the verge of the sea near low-water mark in a 

 relaxed drowsy attitude. Sometimes he wanders 

 about listlessly, sometimes, attracted by some distant 

 object, with his gaze riveted thereon, he stands 

 contemplating it for several minutes. It is his period 

 of rest and relaxation. Nevertheless, the tide in its 

 everlasting flow comes pouring in. He is loth to move 

 from his position, though the waters, still surging 

 higher and higher, entirely surround him, and bathe 

 his legs even up to his body. At length his time has 

 come, the tide has advanced sufficiently far. He 

 arouses himself, and culminating an effort, spreading 

 his broad, arched sail-vans with a flap, and uttering 

 a loud harsh cry, he wings his way to some more 

 removed ground — some neighbouring pasture, some 

 inland loch or quiet sea-haven, or some more lonely 

 deserted wood, where perched on a tall tree he may 

 placidly await until the waters shall have receded once 

 again from his sea-side haunts. The beauty and 

 grace of his wing-ascent has often been jroticed with 

 admiration. In a series of expanded concentric 

 circles he carves out his track through the liquid 

 ether, most frequently silent, but occasionally uttering 

 a harsh cry, and presenting to the astonished spectator 

 below the appearance of an arrowy line carrying 

 some wide and solid substance in the middle. 



During the night-time, however, his sloth evaporates, 

 and his activity being aroused, his conduct is remark- 

 able. By the clear light of the moon, he searches 

 with eye-piercing acuteness for crabs, fish, frogs, rats, 

 &c, and devours them with an insatiable voracity, 

 and a rapid and vigorous digestion. His zest for food 

 seems, however, to be periodical. Occasionally, when 



