THK GREAT HBROV. IVi 



plunge to the middle in ponds made by the up-ooting of 

 large ^rees, which the green moss concealed from observa- 

 tion. In calm weather, the silence of death reigns in these 

 dreary regions ; a few interrupted rays of light shoot across 

 the gloom ; and unless for the occasional hollow screams 

 of the Herons, and the melancholy chirping of one or two 

 species of small birds, all is silence, solitude, and desolation. 

 When a breeze rises, at first it sighs mournfully through 

 the tops ; but as the gale increases, the tall mast-like cedars 

 wave like fishing-poles, and rubbing against each other, 

 produce a variety of singular noises, that, with the help of 

 a little imagination, resemble shrieks, groans, growling of 

 bears, wolves, and such like comfortable music. 



On the tops of the tallest of these cedars the Herons 

 construct their nests, ten or fifteen pair sometimes occupy- 

 ing a particular part of the swamp. The nests are large, 

 formed of sticks, and lined with smaller twigs ; each occupies 

 the top of a single tree. The eggs are generally four, of an 

 oblong, pointed form, larger than those of a hen, and of a 

 light greenish blue, without any spots. The young are 

 produced about the middle of May, and remain on the trees 

 until they are full as heavy as the old ones, being extremely 

 fat, before they are able to fly. They breed but once in the 

 season. H disturbed in their breeding-place, the old birds 

 fly occasionally over the spot, sometimes honHng like a 

 gdose, sometimes uttering a coarse, hollow, granting noise, 

 like that of a hog, but much louder. 



