BLUE HERON. 59 
betake themselves every night to the same locality, and almost to the 
same spot. In the morning, they rise with one accord from the roosts 
on which they have been standing all night on one leg, the other 
drawn up among the feathers of the abdomen, their neck retracted, 
and their head and bill buried beneath their scapulars. On emerging 
from their retreats, they at once proceed to some distant place in 
search of food, and spend the day principally on the head waters of 
the rivers, and the fresh-water lakes of the interior, giving a decided 
preference to the soft mud banks, where small crabs or fiddlers are 
abundant, on which they feed greedily, when the inland ponds have 
been dried up, and consequently no longer supply them with such 
fishes as they are wont to feed upon. 
There, and at this season, Reader, you may see this graceful Heron, 
quietly and in silence walking along the margins of the water, with an 
elegance and grace which can never fail to please you. Each regularly- 
timed step is lightly measured, while the keen eye of the bird seeks 
for and watches the equally cautious movements of the objects towards 
which it advances with all imaginable care. When at a proper dis- 
tance, it darts forth its bill with astonishing celerity, to pierce and se- 
cure its prey; and this it does with so much precision, that, while 
watching some at a distance with a glass, I rarely observed an instance 
of failure. If fish is plentiful, on the shallows near the shore, when it 
has caught one, it immediately swallows it, and runs briskly through 
the water, striking here and there, and thus capturing several in suc- 
cession. Two or three dashes of this sort, afford sufficient nourish- 
-ment for several hours, and when the bird has obtained enough it re- 
tires to some quiet place, and remains there in an attitude of repose 
until its hunger returns. During this period of rest, however, it is as 
watchful as ever, and on hearing the least noise, or perceiving the slight- 
est appearance of danger, spreads its wings, and flies off to some other 
place, sometimes to a very distant one. About an hour before sunset, 
they are again seen anxiously searching for food. When at length sa- 
tisfied, they rise simultaneously from all parts of the marsh, or shore, 
arrange themselves into loose bodies, and ascending to the height of 
fifty or sixty yards in the air, fly in a straight course towards their 
roosting place. I saw very few of these birds during the winter, on 
or near the river St John in Florida; but on several occasions met 
