1894-9SO Glimpses of Trout. 141 



from the nest a bit of beef, it would beat it in the same 

 manner, according to hereditary habit. 



A deadly enemy to trout is the heron. The number these 

 birds destroy, especially while feeding their young, is incredible. 

 Rooks get credit for remarkable industry when catering for 

 their nestlings, being seen early and late in search of food. 

 They rest, however, in the hours of darkness ; but it is not 

 so with the heron. There is no eight, or even eighteen, hours' 

 movement with them. At all hours of the day and night they 

 may be seen industriously searching for food. At Halleaths, 

 near Lockerbie, where there is a large heronry, and at other 

 places, this can be verified. I have taken seven trout, varying 

 from 3 to 6 ounces in weight, from the maw of a heron shot 

 in a tributary of the river Garry. Their habit is to stand 

 motionless in the water till a fish comes within reach, when 

 with unerring aim and great violence they strike with their 

 powerful sharp-pointed bill, leaving a punctured wound in the 

 shoulder of their victim which generally proves fatal. Some 

 years ago, when fishing in the Leader within the policies of 

 Cowdenknowes, I witnessed a heron standing motionless by 

 the river-side, evidently looking for his supper. Remaining 

 perfectly still, I watched with considerable interest to see him 

 secure his prey. His patience was superior to mine, however, 

 as I was on the point of stepping out from behind the bush 

 which concealed me in order to commence to fish, when I saw 

 him suddenly strike at something in the water. On lifting 

 his head, I observed an eel over a foot in length wriggling in 

 his bill. Being aware of the slippery nature of his prey, he 

 ran 30 or 40 yards out on to the meadow before laying it 

 down. Giving the eel several pecks, he again seized the fish, 

 though still wriggling, and managed to swallow it. Of the 

 force of their blow and the sharpness of their bill I can speak 

 from experience. I had been watching one for a long time 

 fishing in a tributary of the Tweed, and resolving to shoot him 

 in order to discover how many fish he had actually caught, I 

 tried to stalk him. Few birds are more shy and wideawake, 

 and before I got nearer than 50 yards he rose. I fired, and 

 he fell with a broken wing. As he was on the opposite side 

 of the brook, I sent my retriever to fetch him. He saw the 

 dog approaching, and putting himself in an attitude of defence, 



