68 Mattinglev, a Visit to Heronries. [isi^^'oct. 



great heronries. So, packing our boat with provisions, rope 

 ladders, cHmbing irons, and other impedimenta, until there was 

 scarcely room to get in it, we started at daylight, and, paddling 

 up the Murra)', reached the mouth of the Kdwards, an ana-branch 

 of the last-named stream. Strange to say, the Murray runs 

 into all the streams hereabouts, instead of the streams running 

 into it as tributaries. Paddling down stream, aided by a strong 

 current, we make excellent headway until we find our path 

 blocked in several places by snags and driftwood, which we 

 manage to clear away with an axe sufficiently for the boat to 

 pass. Onward we glide for miles, at first through swamps 

 containing oological wealth, and then through parts where the 

 river became narrower and compressed between higher banks. 

 Further on the river banks became submerged. Soon a dank, 

 swampy odour pervaded our nostrils, the timber here growing 

 denser and much higher. Huge gum trees, interspersed with 

 tall saplings, which reared their umbrageous heads 70 to 120 

 feet high, grew in profusion. The hoarse croaking calls of 

 Herons could be heard ahead. Several White Egrets, together 

 with Nankeen Night- Herons, were seen fishing close by, and 

 arose and flew away with the clumsy, wheeling flight peculiar to 

 the Cranes or Herons. The waters, o'ershadowed by the 

 picturesque gums, appeared blacker, the air became danker, the 

 river more wild and primeval, flanked as it was on either side by 

 a virgin forest. As we swept onwards, impelled by the swiftly 

 flowing current, that seemed to be drawing us to a vortex ahead, 

 we suddenly noticed half a dozen large stick nests underwoven 

 with fresh gum leaves, situate in the tops of the trees, all of 

 which were occupied by Nankeen Night-Herons. Onward we 

 glided, nests now on every side and high up in safe positions, all 

 tenanted by Night-Herons. Nests were visible in almost every 

 gum-tree. Paddling onwards for about i ^ miles, we at last 

 leave the nests behind and reach our camping spot on a dry 

 knob of ground surrounded by water and in the vicinity of a 

 place called Reedy Nook, adjacent to a locality known as St. 

 Helena — a wild, isolated, unfrequented area like the island after 

 which it was named. On the camping ground there was the 

 frame-work of a deserted aborigine's mia-mia, alongside of 

 which we pitched our tent and prepared a late but welcome 

 lunch. After its demolition we made our way back to the 

 heronry. Striking off through the swamp at its lower end, we 

 noticed several nests of the White-necked Herons {NotopJwyx 

 pacifica) placed on the top of a huge gum-tree about 200 feet 

 high and quite safe from molestation from below. 



Now we arrive at a Nankeen Night- Heron's nest, and as we 

 approach the tree the brooding bird suddenly flushes and alights 

 on a tree near, meanwhile uttering hoarse croaks of disgust at 

 being unceremoniously disturbed. The antithesis of beauty and 



