THE COMMON HERON 171 
weighs but three pounds and a half. Consequently, though not 
formed for rapid flight, or endued with great activity of wing, its 
body presents so large a surface to the air, that it can support itself 
aloft with but a slight exertion. It is thus enabled, without fatigue, 
to soar almost into the regions assigned to the Eagle and Vulture ; 
and when pursued by its natural enemies, the Falcons, to whom 
it would fall an easy prey on account of the largeness of the mark 
which its body would present to their downward swoop if it could 
only skim the plains, it is enabled to vie with them in rising into 
the air, and thus often eludes them. 
The Heron, though it neither swims nor dives, is, nevertheless, 
a fisher, and a successful one, but a fisher in rivers and shallow 
waters only, to human anglers a very pattern of patience and 
resignation. Up to its knees in water, motionless as a stone, 
with the neck slightly stretched out, and the eye steadily fixed, 
but wide awake to the motion of anything that has life, the Heron 
may be seen in the ford of a river, the margin of a lake, in a sea- 
side pool, or on the bank of an estuary, a faultless subject for the 
photographer. Suddenly the head is shot forward with unerring 
aim; a small fish is captured, crushed to death, and swallowed 
head foremost; an eel of some size requires different treatment, 
and is worth the trouble of bringing to land, that it may be beaten 
to death on the shingle; a large fish is impaled with its dagger- 
like beak, and, if worth the labour, is carried off to a safe retreat, 
to be devoured at leisure. If observers are to be credited, and 
there is no reason why they should not, a full-grown Heron can 
thus dispose of a fish that exceeds its own weight. A frog is swal- 
lowed whole ; a water rat has its skull split before it discovers its 
enemy, and speedily is undergoing the process of digestion. Shrimps, 
small crabs, newts, water beetles, all is fish that comes to its com- 
prehensive net; but if, with all its watchfulness, the look-out be 
unsuccessful, it rises a few feet into the air, and slowly flaps itself 
away to some little distance, where perhaps, slightly altering its 
attitude, it stands on one leg, and, with its head thrown back, 
awaits better fortune. While thus stationed it is mute; but as 
it flies off it frequently utters its note, a harsh, grating scream, 
especially when other birds of the same species are in the neigh- 
bourhood. On these occasions it is keenly on the alert, descrying 
danger at a great distance, and is always the first to give notice 
of an approaching enemy, not only to all birds feeding near it on 
the shore, but to any Ducks which may chance to be paddling in 
the water. 
1 A Heron in captivity has been known to perch on an old carriage-wheel, 
in the corner of a courtyard, and to lie in wait for Sparrows and Martins. 
One of the latter it was seen to pierce while flying, and immediately descend- 
ing with outspread wings to run to its trough, and, having several times 
plunged in its prey, to swallow it at a gulp. 
