90 GREAT BLUE HERON. 



ten miles from any marsh, pond, or river. I have also observed nests on 

 the tops of the tallest trees, while others were only a few feet above the 

 ground : some also I have seen on the ground itself, and many on cac- 

 tuses. In the Carolinas, where Herons of all sorts are extremely abun- 

 dant, perhaps as much so as in the lower parts of Louisiana or the Flori- 

 das, on account of the numerous reservoirs connected with the rice plan- 

 tations, and the still more numerous ditches which intersect the rice-fields, 

 all of which contain fish of various sorts, these birds find it easy to pro- 

 cure food in great abundance. There the Blue Herons breed in con- 

 siderable numbers, and if the place they have chosen be over a swamp, 

 few situations can be conceived more likely to ensure their safety, for one 

 seldom ventures into those dismal retreats at the time when these birds 

 breed, the effluvia being extremely injurious to health, besides the diffi- 

 culties to be overcome in making one's way to them. 



Imagine, if you can, an area of some hundred acres, overgrown with 

 huge cypress trees, the trunks of which, rising to a height of perhaps fifty 

 feet before they send off a branch, spring from the midst of the dark 

 muddy waters. Their broad tops, placed close together with interlaced 

 branches, seem intent on separating tlie heavens from the earth. Beneath 

 their dark canopy scarcely a single sunbeam ever makes its Avay ; the 

 mire is covered with fallen logs, on which grow matted grasses and lichens, 

 and the deeper parts with nympheae and other aquatic plants. The 

 Congo snake and water-moccasin glide before you as they seek to elude 

 your sight, hundreds of turtles drop, as if shot, from the floating trunks 

 of the fallen trees, from which also the sullen alhgator plunges into the 

 dismal pool. The air is pregnant with pestilence, but alive with musqui- 

 toes and other insects. The croaking of the frogs, joined with the hoarse 

 cries of the Anhingas and the screams of the Herons, forms fit music for 

 such a scene. Standing knee-deep in the mire, you discharge your gun 

 at one of the numerous birds that are breeding high over head, when im- 

 mediately such a deafening noise arises, that, if you have a companion 

 with you, it were quite useless to speak to him. The frightened birds 

 cross each other confusedly in their flight ; the young attempting to se- 

 cure themselves, some of them lose their hold, and fall into the water with 

 a splash ; a shower of leaflets whirls downwards from the tree-tops, and 

 you are glad to make your retreat from such a place. Should you wish 

 to shoot Herons, you may stand, fire, and pick up your game as long as 

 you please ; you may obtain several species, too, for not only does the 



