274 BIRDS OF THE WEST OF SCOTLAND. 



spring to breed, and quit the place during winter. They are 

 numerous as rooks, and their nests so crowded together that 

 myself and the company that was with me counted not fewer than 

 eighty in one tree. The family who owned this place was of the 

 same name with these birds, which seems to be the principal 

 inducement for preserving them." Let us hope they were not 

 disciples of Isaac Walton. Each of these nests would contain 

 four or five eggs, so that this remarkable tree would send nearly 

 four hundred feathered poachers into the nearest streams and 

 fish ponds. 



Mr Graham has furnished me with a very interesting account of 

 the habits of the Heron as observed by himself in the island of 

 lona during his residence there, and I have much pleasure in 

 giving the following selection from his letters : 



"Except during the breeding season, the heron is a never 

 wanting accessory to our coast scenery, forming a conspicuous 

 feature in every rocky bay and lonely wave-margined sand-flat, 

 standing immovable watching its own inverted image in the clear 

 pools left by the ebbing tide, or roosting in sluggish attitude on 

 some high bare rock. When fishing in the pools left among rocks, 

 these birds are extremely wary against surprise; but, when wading 

 in open sandy bays, they are much less jealous of a moderately near 

 approach, and a party of six or seven together may then be watched 

 following their employment of fishing. For a while the heron 

 stands motionless, as if he were a bundle of withered sticks cast 

 up by the waves and left stranded in the ooze, when an almost 

 imperceptible motion of the head, a levelling of the bill for aim, 

 and a moment of extreme tension and suspense precedes a light- 

 ning dart of head and bill under water, which emerge again holding 

 some small writhing object. This is quickly swallowed by the 

 gaunt grey extended throat, and then the heron shakes his head 

 and bill, gives himself a comfortable shrug all over, steps a little 

 deeper into the receding tide, and again becomes a model of 

 patience and vigilance. 



" The gamekeeper at Inverlussa, in the island of Jura, assures 

 me that they make their nests on the ground on the top of a high 

 steep bank, not far from the house. In this place they no doubt 

 feel themselves safe against human enemies; and, as to rats and 

 vermin, they know too much of the heron's sharp eye, and sharper 

 bill, to venture near her nursery. Having no trees to roost upon 



