74 ALONG THE HILLSBOROUGH. 
After this manner did the Hillsborough 
River majors all behave themselves until my 
very last walk beside it. Then I found the 
exception, — the exception that is as good 
as inevitable in the case of any bird, if 
the observation be carried far enough. He 
(or she; there was no telling which it was) 
stood on the sandy beach, a splendid crea- 
ture in full nuptial garb, two black plumes 
nodding jauntily from its crown, and masses 
of soft elongated feathers draping its back 
and lower neck. Nearer and nearer I ap- 
proached, till I must have been within a 
hundred feet; but it stood as if on dress 
parade, exulting to be looked at. Let us 
hope it never carried itself thus gayly when 
the wrong man came along. 
Near the major — not keeping him com- 
pany, but feeding in the same shallows 
and along the same oyster-bars — were con- 
stantly to be seen two smaller relatives 
of his, the little blue heron and the Louisi- 
ana. The former is what is called a dichro- 
matic species ; some of the birds are blue, 
and others white. On the Hillsborough, 
it seemed to me that white specimens pre- 
dominated; but possibly that was because 
