tion, the most soul-empty- 
ing succession of expletives 
in the North American bird 
language. 
But all this insight into 
the domestic economy of 
the Heron must be ob- 
tained incog. Once you are 
recognized in the under- 
growth below as a dreaded 
human, a great hush falls 
upon the colony. The 
anxious parents shrink till 
every feather seems glued 
to their persons full length, 
and if possible they slink 
away. The clamoring 
youngsters, standing full 
height in their nests, at a 
signal from an adult, turn 
to stone. After this they 
sink down by a movement 
as insensible as that of the 
hands of a clock. 
No one claims that this 
Heron is “game,” but the 
fact remains that thought- 
less people with guns, not 
sportsmen, of course, seem 
to find his towering bulk 
THE GREAT BLUE HERON. 627 
Taken in California. Photo by Finley and Bohlman. 
A “FROZEN” HERON. 
irresistible, and have succeeded for the most part in driving his not un- 
friendly presence beyond the limits of rifle range. Why cannot someone 
invent an automatic soaring target, as big as a barn door, stuffed with tin 
cans, chicken feathers and a bottle of red ink, which when hit with a bullet 
would fall to earth with a crash like the walls of Jericho, and so satisfy at 
trifling cost this peculiar lust of lead-throwing? The stateliness of the 
Heron is too vital a part of our western landscape to 
sacrificed. 
be so wantonly 
