STORIES ABOUT BIRDS. 



Or if there comes the sound of oars, and a boat comes down the stream, it 

 causes the utmost terror. Yet few people are known to molest them. 



They place their nests among the tall reeds, at some distance one from 

 the other, and only a few feet above the high water mark. The nest is large, 

 and made of sticks, without any lining, and is quite flat. The eggs have 

 rather a thick shell, and are of a light blue green colour. Both birds sit on 

 the eggs, which take a month to hatch. 



Before we leave this bird we must sa}' a few words about the night herons 

 that live in the cedar swamps. 



The cedar swamp is perhaps the most dismal spot you can imagine. 

 The ground underfoot is like a bog, covered with great bushy limbs and logs 

 of fallen trees. And the trunks of the cedars grow side by side to the height 

 of two hundred feet, and so close together that a man cannot push himself 

 between. And there are no branches, except at the top, where the trees 

 are all matted together, so as to shut out daylight. 



Nothing breaks the dreary silence except the chirp of a few birds, or the 

 harsh screams of the heron-. And it the wind gets up, the tall stems clash 

 together, and rub one against the other, and make such creaking, and such 

 hideous noises, that the eftect is something awful. 



Every spring the herons come to the cedar swamp, and take possession 

 of their old nests on the cedar-trees. All the branches near the place where 

 they live are completely battered and broken down by them, and the ground 

 is strewed with feathers, and fishes, and pieces ot old nests, and all kinds of 

 rubbish. And we can hardly describe the noise, for it is enough to deafen you. 

 They keep repeating the note " qua-qua," until the Indian gives them the 

 name of " qua-birds." 



The little herons are some time before they know how to fly, but they 

 soon begin to crawl about the branches, and get to the top of the tree to look out 

 for their parents. They are terribly afraid of being caught, and if by chance 

 any one comes that way — and the Indian thinks young heron as nice as pigeon 

 — they scramble out of the way as fast as they can, and hide themselves 

 among the mud. 



The common heron is the most familiar of its tribe. Its general colour 

 is ashy grey with a bluish tinge. The blue tinge is deeper on the back of 

 the head, that is ornamented with a crest of narrow black feathers, shading 

 the back of the neck. 



