200 A GEE AT BLUE HERON. 



hour, admiring his handsome blue wings as 

 now and then he spread them, his dainty 

 manner of lifting his long legs, and the 

 occasional flashing stroke of his beak. My 

 range was short (for a field-glass, I mean), 

 and, all in all, I voted it "a fine show." 



When I wearied of my position I rose and 

 advanced upon the heron in full sight, ex- 

 pecting every moment to see him fly. To 

 my astonishment he held his ground. Down 

 the hillside I went, nearer and nearer, till I 

 came to a barbed-wire fence, which bounded 

 the cranberry field close by the heron's pool. 

 As I worried my way through this abomina- 

 ble obstruction, he stepped into a narrow, 

 shallow ditch and started slowly away. I 

 made rapidly after him, whereupon he got 

 out of the ditch and strode on ahead of me. 

 By this time I was probably within twenty 

 yards of him, so near that, as he twisted his 

 long neck every now and then, and looked 

 at me through his big yellow eyes, I began 

 to wonder whether he might not take it into 

 his head to turn the tables upon me. A stab 

 in the face with that ugly sharp beak would 

 have been no laughing matter ; but I did not 

 believe myself in any danger, and quickened 



