432 Bailey, Plum Island Night Herons. [oct. 



the arrival or departure of birds or by any change of position among 

 those about the rookery. 



Two or three birds were still engaged in nestbuilding, or rather 

 the repairing of last year's nests. I saw one male heron come flying 

 in from a neighboring thicket of trees with a fair sized dead stick 

 in his beak, and this coarse building material he proceeded to work 

 into the rude platform of similar timber. In another instance, 

 close by our place of concealment I saw the skeleton of a young 

 heron, victim of some disaster of the previous year, worked in as 

 constructive material for the nest. Rather a gruesome reminder, 

 close at hand, for the birds of the present season were they gifted 

 with the powers of thought or reflection. 



Our leave-taking and the two mile walk along the border of the 

 marshes, back to the trolley line was considerably hastened by the 

 vigorous assaults of swarms of bloodthirsty mosquitoes, who dis- 

 regarded all but savage standards of warfare in their attacks. 

 But altogether this visit to the rookery was a pleasant and instruc- 

 tive one, resulting in our gaining a fuller knowledge of the habits 

 of these interesting birds." 



In the season of 1906 I visited the rookery but once, and then 

 late in August when the business of housekeeping for that season 

 was pretty well over and the place chiefly used now as a kind of 

 rendezvous or roosting place for such of the birds as had not scat- 

 tered and wandered along the coast or inland in small family flocks 

 or individually. From the time the young became steady of wing, 

 up to the time of departure for the South, in late October or early 

 November, according to the mildness or severity of the season, the 

 birds are something of wanderers, drifting from one swamp or 

 secluded river border to another, or along the marshes and tidal 

 creeks of the coasts. At this season I have frequently found them 

 along the borders of several of the larger sluggish streams and brooks 

 inland, and about the shores of the smaller reedy ponds and water- 

 ing holes. At dusk and during the early evening their uncanny 

 "quawks" may be heard coming eerily from the gloom overhead, 

 as they change from one tarrying place to another. 



On June 9, 1907, 1 made a trip to Plum Island and attempted 

 at this time to secure photographs of the herons at the "Long 

 Point" rookery. For a camera I had a 4 X 5 Poco, with the usual 



