loo WHERE ROLLS THE OREGON 



the bird-life in this region. He saw the wonder- 

 ful sights of the nesting multitudes. He told of 

 the colonies of white herons that lived in the wil- 

 lows along the lower Silvies River. There was 

 the river itself winding across the valley through 

 sage, rye-grass flats, and tule marshes, its trail 

 marked by a growth of willow and alder. 



*' Two days ago we had followed this trail, and 

 searched out these places to photograph the white 

 heron. As we approached the trees, said to be 

 alive with birds, all was silent. 



" ' We 're on the wrong trail again,' my com- 

 panion had suggested ; but pushing through the 

 willows I saw big nests in the trees on both sides 

 of the river. Strange to say, not a single bird I I 

 clambered up to one of the lower nests, and 

 found a rough platform of sticks upon which lay 

 the bleached bones of two herons. I climbed an- 

 other and another. Each home was a funeral 

 pyre. 



"'Epidemic*?' said my companion. 



" 'Yes, of plume-hunters ! ' I retorted. 



" Here was a great cemetery in the silence of 

 the marsh. But one nest was inhabited. A long- 

 eared owl was in possession sitting on five eggs. 



