66 Mattingley, a Visit to Heronries. [j^. 



Emu 

 t Oct. 



ing these swamps, and which are so necessary for the protection 

 of the helpless ova and fish fry, and were the swamps to remain 

 unflooded, neither the water-weeds would be propagated nor the 

 fishes be able to enter the swamps to spawn. Numerous water 

 insects, too, would remain unhatched, likewise frogs, snails, and 

 Crustacea. The regularity of the annual flooding of these 

 swamps at this time of the year has been observed by many 

 species of birds, and the certainty of a plentiful supply of 

 suitable food necessary for the successful rearing of their young 

 ones has induced many kinds to repair to these secluded spots 

 to breed. The Herons, in common with other species, have 

 also noted this occurrence, and great numbers of them repair to 

 these regions at this time. And as these lands are flooded for 

 part of the year only, the birds naturally choose the time in 

 which to nest and bring forth their young when the bounteous 

 harvest to be reaped from the swamps is most plentiful and 

 easily procured — a very necessary precaution, because their 

 offspring are endowed with voracious appetites, to satisfy which 

 the energies of their parents are taxed to their utmost. It is 

 when the swamps are draining and comparatively shallow that 

 the food supply of the Herons is more easily obtained, owing to 

 the homes of the Crustacea, snails, frogs, and fish fry either 

 being laid bare or constricted into shallow pools or billabongs. 

 It is then that the Egrets and Herons are able to more easily 

 capture their prey, which cannot readily evade them, and it is 

 precisely at this period that these birds bring forth their young. 

 Being seized of these facts, the exact date of our departure on 

 our trip of investigation was an easy matter to decide. 



Entering our flat-bottomed and somewhat frail craft, we set 

 out for our destination. After paddling against a swiftly 

 flowing stream for four miles we entered a large swamp, on 

 whose watery bosom floated myriads of water lilies, which were 

 a blaze of vivid yellow flowers, whose delicately perfumed blooms 

 filled the air with fragrance. Leaving the swamp we came 

 to a creek, and, paddling against the stream, which was 

 running very swiftly, we made our way over its waters, which 

 were sheltered on either side by picturesque red gums, that flung 

 their coolsome shadows across its bosom. Everything around 

 us was calm and beautiful. The air, warm and balmy and 

 redolent with the aromatic odour of the eucalypts, gave promise 

 of fine weather for some time. At last we reached the homestead, 

 situate at the junction of the River Murray and the Gulpha 

 Creek. From this spot we made excursions daily in different 

 directions. By so doing we materially added to our knowledge 

 of the habits of the denizens of this favoured locality, which is 

 the home of at least a million birds, the question of space in this 

 magazine forbidding even a cursory review of some of them. A 

 week was spent poling and paddling the boat through the 



