Shankland — On Birds on Otonabee River. 11. 



marsh some distance further down the river, a heron flew up 

 from the water with a medium-sized snake writhing and twist- 

 ing- in its bill. Upon speaking- to one of the members of the 

 boat's crew about this incident, I was informed that the her- 

 ons were fond of snakes, and that it was no unusual sight to 

 see them carrying these reptiles away in their bills. 



I afterward learned that these herons were accustomed to 

 breed in a heronry, located in the midst of one of the most in- 

 accessible swamps in that vicinity, and that more than two 

 hundred nests have Ijeen seen there in a single season. They 

 are rigidly protected by the Dominion laws, and collectors are 

 not even allovvcd to procure eggs for their collections. 



Another interesting species of waterfowl, of which we saw a 

 few individuals while riding down the river, was the Bittern. 

 Although not nearly as abundant as its greater congener, the 

 Great Blue Heron, nevertheless this species was fairly com- 

 mon on portions of the river, and in the extensive swamps 

 located about a mile north of Rice Lake. Not having had the 

 pleasure of seeing a Bittern, except in mv:seums, prior to that 

 Canadian trip. I was somewhat puzzled when, as we ap- 

 proached a long stretch of marshy territory, a large ochra- 

 cerus-brown bird flew up from a clump of cat-tails and made 

 off down the river. The bird's flight, although heavy and flap- 

 ping, was swift, and in less than half a minute it had disap- 

 peared around a bend in the river. 



Two days later, while paddling about in that same locality, 

 I had the pleasure of seeing four adult Bitterns and several 

 young ones, and also of hearing the strange, unearthly calls of 

 these shy denizens of the marshes. After hearing these calls, 

 one appreciates the appropriateness of the nickname " thun- 

 derpump " applied to this species by the fishermen. 



After we had traversed about one-half the distance from 

 Peterboro to Rice Lake, we entered a long stretch of wild, 

 marshy territory, where the river was deep and sluggish, and 

 where tributary creeks and brooks emptied into the main 

 channel at frequent intervals. Here the river proper was 



