128 BULLETIN 135, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



perfect mass of tangled bushes aud trees. I never saw such a tangled mass of 

 brush. Fallen limbs and trees of alder, swamp maple and willow interlaced 

 with blackberry briers, poison oak, and the rankest growth of nettles. All the 

 while we were assailed by an increasing mob of starving mosquitos that went 

 raving mad at the taste of blood. We pushed on, straining, sweating, crawling 

 and climbing for a hundred yards that seemed more like a mile. We forgot it all 

 the minute we stood under the largest sycamore. It was 7 feet thick at the 

 base and a difficult proposition to climb. But this was the center of business 

 activity in the heron village. The monster was 120 feet high and had a spread 

 of limbs equal to its height. In this single tree we counted 41 blue heron nests 

 and 28 night heron nests; 69 nests in one tree. In another tree were 17 of the larger 

 nests and 28 of the smaller. We made the first trip to the heronry on April 21, 

 and found most of the nests contained eggs. There were about 700 nests in 

 the whole colony, of which the larger number were black-crowned night herons. 

 The great blues and the night herons occupied the same trees, nesting side by 

 side. The larger nests were built almost entirely in the tops of the sycamores, 

 while the night herons set their platform nests at the very upturned tips of the 

 sycamore's limbs and in the lower surrounding willows and alders. 



When I first climbed in among the nests of a smaller tree with my camera, it 

 sounded as if I were in the midst of a gigantic henhouse. Some of the birds 

 were clacking over their eggs that were soon to be hatched; others were wran- 

 gling and squabbling, so that there was a continual clattering fuss, above which 

 one had to yell his loudest to be heard. I sat straddling a limb, with my note- 

 book in hand. About me, seemingly almost within reach, I counted 36 sets of 

 blue eggs. I was high above the tops of the alders and willows. Set all about 

 below, in the background of green, were the platforms each holding several eggs 

 of blue. The trees were dotted with them in every direction. I counted over 

 400 eggs in sight. 



Edward K. Taylor (1897) discovered an interesting colony of 

 these herons in the southern marshes of San Francisco Bay, which he 

 visited on April 30, 1897. He describes it as follows: 



From the course of the creek it was evident that the herons have selected the 

 highest spot on the salt marsh for a nesting place. The rookery is about 2 miles 

 from the mainland and three-quarters of a mile from the bay shore, and here, 

 within an area less than an acre in extent, are located more than 50 nests. I 

 counted 36 from one point. The nests were constructed of smaller sticks than is 

 usual in those found in trees, the birds securing twigs, none more than three- 

 quarters of an inch in diameter, from bushes which grow to a height of about 3 

 feet on the marshes. They wore from 6 to IS inches in height. Some lined with 

 dry grass. Depression was from 3 inches in the older nests to 9 inches in the 

 more modern ones, the average being 4 inches. Most of the nests were bleached 

 ofifal white and had apparently been in use for many years. All were remarka- 

 bly neat and clean. They were ranged along the edge of the winding creek, about 

 8 feet apart, and another row of nests would be found on the opposite side. Three 

 or four eggs or the same luimber of young herons were found in most of the nests 

 but the older families were composed of but two or three young. Several sets 

 were secured, and fresh eggs were taken from a few nests. 



H. W. Carriger and J. R. Pcmberton (1908) published an account 

 of a colony which was forced to abandon its rookery in the tops of 

 some eucalyptus trees, near Redwood City, California, and was later 

 found established in a marsh with nests on the ground. 



