THE BLUE HERON 



beside those banks, no wonder Kingfishers poised above that 

 water by day, or that raccoons flattened themselves and lay 

 immovable while they fished for frogs by night, for all of them 

 could see their prey plainly and know exactly how to capture 

 it. 



I pulled into the lake, took my bearings and started toward the 

 point where the Herons seemed to congregate. On reaching it I 

 found the remains of an old saw-mill. The shores of all these 

 northern lakes and rivers were dotted with mills a few years ago. 

 There was an oozy landing-place on sawdust foundation, while 

 the old mill probably would collapse in the first wind-storm. I 

 pulled the boat up on the landing and entered the mill which was 

 a shed, the floor half covered with water. Many boards were 

 lacking, but enough were left to shelter me, so quietly creeping to 

 the back end where the mill had been built over the water on 

 purpose to float in logs, I saw an interesting sight. 



The rushes had grown through what formerly had been a 

 bed of sawdust, until they almost reached the mill. In this rotten 

 sawdust there seemed to be a big white worm, of which the Herons 

 were fond, and how they did gobble frogs ! Undoubtedly the old 

 mill was the attraction for both frogs and birds. The story was 

 told in nature's plainest writ. The sun shining on the water- 

 soaked sawdust raised a sweetish, sappy odour. This odour at- 

 tracted flies and other insects in myriads. The insects in turn 

 lured the frogs. The frogs made a feast which called up the 

 Herons, while the Herons furnished subjects for my cameras. 

 Inside the old mill, so close I could almost reach out and touch 

 the actors, I interpreted these "signs." 



Surely I am qualified to tell how a Blue Heron catches frogs. 

 There is no hunting; his prey comes to him. The big birds, some 

 of them over three feet in height, came winging across the 

 lake, selecting the spot from which they wished to fish, quietly 



