86 BIRDS 



were immaculately clean, posed for her picture, yawned 

 a few times as though the tent and its occupant made 

 her weary, then let herself down gently upon her brood, 

 with her bosom of soft whiteness, and dropped to sleep 

 — all this within six feet of me and my camera. 



No theatre, with its dazzling electric-lighted splen- 

 dor, its upholstery of the finest plush and its tapestries 

 of high price, can, to my mind, be compared, for real en- 

 joyment, to my bird tent in the days I spent in the 

 mangrove swamp with these island actors. 



If any of the young birds happen to be away from 

 home, playing or visiting their neighbors, they make a 

 bee-line for the nest the minute they hear the call, "Din- 

 ner is served ! " If neighbors ' children accompany them 

 home, the outsiders are sure to be unceremoniously sent 

 away, hungry, and with a good sound flogging from the 

 feeding parent. Although the nests of other Herons are 

 often within two feet of a feeding bird, the young make 

 no effort to intrude or plead for what does not belong to 

 them. 



In the Gulf of Mexico, near the Mexican border, I 

 saw these birds feeding along the shallow shore line. 

 They have a peculiar way of doing a species of buck 

 dancing, or scraping with their feet, to dislodge hidden 

 food particles in the sandy or muddy bottom, then jump- 

 ing three or four feet into the air, as if some invisible 

 mollusk or crab had seized their toes and they were try- 

 ing to shake the creature off. (Fig. 31.) 



On a shooting preserve in Bates County, Missouri, 

 there is a large swampy section of ground, covered with 

 weeds of various kinds. This place is ideal for water 

 birds, as myriads of small fish and frogs are to be found 

 in its morasses. In August, 1921, I saw and pictured 

 there six beautiful white Herons which remained about 

 the body of water for six weeks. They were genuine 

 Snowy Herons, and not Little Blues in the white phase. 

 I made the pictures with the camera within sixty feet of 

 the birds as they perched on the dead tree stumps in the 

 water. I was told by the keeper that these birds come 

 to the place yearly. I had studied and pictured these 

 beautiful Little Herons in their homes on the islands in 

 the Gulf of Mexico, and elsewhere, where they are found 



