190 STORIES OF BIED LIFE 



ing tilings we witnessed. An old bird upon coming home 

 would alight on the edge of the nest, or on a limb close at 

 hand. With a peculiar pumping motion of its throat it 

 seemed to bring the food up its long neck and hold it in its 

 mouth ready for the little ones to feed upon. One at a 

 time they would reach up and thrust their bills into the 

 open mouth of their parent to receive their portion. 



The diet of the baby herons must have consisted largely 

 of small fish, for when we attempted to row our boat among 

 the tree trunks beneath the nests, they disgorged large 

 quantities of partially digested minnows, possibly in their 

 efforts to drive us away, or perhaps because of their great 

 uneasiness. In fitful streams these descended upon us, 

 falling in the boat, in our laps, in our pockets or down our 

 necks. Our journey through the city of the longlegs was 

 fraught with much anxiety and watchfulness, as well as 

 peril to the appearance of our garments. There were over 

 one thousand occupied nests in this place. 



Probably there are other enemies to the eggs and young 

 birds besides crows. In one nest we saw a large water snake 

 lying coiled about an egg quietly enjoying a sun bath. We 

 were unable to learn, however, whether snakes eat the eggs 

 of the heron. The eyes and snout of an alligator were seen 

 protruding from the water in a little open place among the 

 tree trunks. Possibly this monster lived here and was 



