The Return of the Snowy Heron 161 



breeding resemble each other quite closely. Both are surrounded by marsh 

 or 'pluff' mud and both are clothed with a dense cover of bushes or low trees, 

 few of them more than fifteen feet in height. The first hammock discovered 

 has an area of about three acres, while the second is somewhat larger. The 

 smaller hammock is completely covered by a thick growth of 'sparkleberry' 

 bushes, yuccas, and palmettoes, while on the other island the yuccas and pal- 

 mettoes are absent or inconspicuous and the sparkleberries form almost impene- 

 trable clumps or thickets surrounding a number of small grass-grown, open 

 spaces. 



The bird population of these two little marsh-land strongholds is remark- 

 ably large considering the small size of each hammock. The Herons observed 

 belong to five species — Snowy, Louisiana, Little Blue, Green, and Black-crowned 

 Night Heron; and in addition hundreds of Boat-tailed Grackles, a few Red- 

 winged Blackbirds, a pair of Carolina Doves, and a few Nonpareils are rearing 

 their young in close proximity to the nests of their larger long-legged neighbors. 



Disregarding the smaller birds and considering only the Herons, we esti- 

 mated the population of the smaller hammock at between six hundred and seven 

 hundred, and of the larger at not less than a thousand. On each island the Louis- 

 iana and Green Herons outnumber the other species, though, especially on the 

 larger island, the Night Herons are well represented. We saw only a few Little 

 Blues — almost all of them immature birds whose white plumage was flecked 

 here and there with slate. 



All these, however, are common species, mentioned only because we found 

 them breeding in close association with their rare kinsman, the subject of this 

 article. The number of Snowies observed at the smaller heronry we estimated 

 at between one hundred and one hundred and fifty, while the number seen at 

 the larger island was hardly less than two hundred. These figures, however, 

 may be either considerably too large or too small, for actual counting was an 

 impossibility. 



At each island, as we approached, the birds would rise from the bushes in 

 successive waves or clouds, so rapidly that, by the time we had counted forty 

 or fifty Snowies among their number, we would have to give up the attempt. 

 At the larger heronry, the Snowies were very wild, and after flying about in the 

 air for a few minutes, most of them betook themselves out into the marsh and 

 alit about a quarter of a mile away. At the other island they are much tamer— 

 though not nearly so tame as the graceful Louisianas which would pass and 

 repass close above our heads or alight on the tops of the bushes less than twenty 

 feet from us. The Night Herons also were rather shy, most of them raising high 

 in the air and sailing about well out of range. The scene was always one of 

 great animation. Hundreds of birds were continually wheeling about above 

 the bushes, Louisianas and Greens for the most part, but with a good sprinkling 

 of Snowies and Night Herons. Others fluttered from place to place, while others 

 again perched on the tops of the bushes around us, eyeing us with the greatest 



