456 Habits of the Heron. 



birds place theirs. Indeed, it cannot possibly perform its 

 incubation with its legs outside of the nest; and the admirable 

 provision of nature, in always giving to birds a due pro- 

 portional length in their legs and thighs, saves the heron from 

 the necessity of attempting to place itself in such an unsightly 

 posture. In fact, the formation of the parts would not admit 

 of it; and were a bird, by any chance, to put itself in a 

 position by which the legs would appear on the outside of 

 the nest, we may rest assured that both great pain and great 

 inconvenience would ensue, and soon force it to resume 

 the common process of incubation. The thighs, by being 

 stretched asunder, would be thrown out of their ordinary 

 bearings ; and the feathers, by coming in contact with the 

 outer materials of which the nest is formed, would be forced 

 into a direction quite opposite to that which they have re- 

 ceived from the hand of nature. Hence we may safely con- 

 clude that neither the herons, nor any other birds of the 

 creation, ever perform their incubation with their legs on the 

 outside of the nest. 



In the day-time this bird seldom exhibits any very extra- 

 ordinary activity. Although it will fly from place to place 

 at intervals, still it seems to pass the greater part of the time 

 betwixt sunrise and sunset quietly on the bank of a stream, 

 or on the branch of a tree, often with one leg drawn up under 

 the body in a most picturesque manner. But, as soon as the 

 shades of night set in, the heron becomes as anxious and im- 

 patient as a London alderman half an hour before the Lord 

 Mayor's festive dinner. It walks up and down the bank, or 

 moves from branch to branch with extraordinary activity, 

 every now and then stretching out its wings, and giving us to 

 understand, by various gesticulations, that it is about to com- 

 mence its nocturnal peregrinations in quest of food. One 

 loud and harsh cry, often repeated, now informs you that the 

 heron is on wing, wending its way to some distant river, 

 swamp, or creek. I suspect that this cry is never uttered but 

 when the bird is flying. 



Formerly we had a range of fishponds here, one above the 

 other, covering a space of about three acres of ground. Close 

 by them ran a brook, from which the water-rats made regular 

 passages through the intervening bank into the ponds. 

 These vermin were engaged in never-ceasing mischief. No 

 sooner was one hole repaired, than another was made ; so that 

 we had the mortification to see the ponds generally eight or 

 ten inches below water-mark. This encouraged the growth of 

 weeds to a most incommodious extent, which at last put an 

 end to all pleasure in fishing. Finding that " the green 



