626 THE GREAT BLUE HERON 
Since the nests in this mild climate contain eggs by the 1st of April, 
a visit should be paid to a heronry about the second or third week in 
May, if one would experience the most striking sensations. In the absence 
of the old birds, the youngsters, awkward, scrawny, ill-favored little brutes 
that they are, spend most of their time squabbling and trying to push 
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each other from the nest. Now and then one succeeds in sending a brother 
down the long abyss, but oftener the pursued one escapes along a branch, 
or, if he falls, catches on a limb below, and scrambles to safety, tooth and 
toe-nail. 
But however scattered the young may be, the approach of the parent 
bird is a signal for all to gather. Upon alighting, the old bird first indulges 
a pensive moment, like a cow which is expecting another order of grass 
sent up from the proventriculum, after which she suddenly jabs her bill 
down the neck of the nearest squawker and dispenses sweet nourishment 
from her secret store. This she does with each child in turn till all are 
fed. 
Whenever the old birds are about, the young keep up a loud cackling, 
not unlike that of Guinea hens, but less shrill and of immensely greater 
volume. The parents, too, make an astonishing amount of noise, roaring 
at times like caged lions. This bellowing of the Heron, as rendered at 
home or as produced when frightened at close quarters, is, without exaggera- 
