206 Union Bay 



did ask all local bird observers to keep an eye out for the 

 strangers. The manager, always cooperative, mentioned the 

 matter to many canoeists who he thought were good ob- 

 servers: some were familiar with the eastern bird. But the 

 fall of the year and the next spring passed without any fur- 

 ther sight of our avian problem. It was not until April of the 

 next year that the manager called to tell me that a green 

 heron was again fishing from the float. We saw this solitary 

 bird in various locations close to the canoehouse, always 

 silent, morose appearing, and sluggish except when it drove 

 its bill at great speed to capture a passing tadpole. It left 

 during the first week in September. 



It has been my custom to take notes regularly in the marsh. 

 If I now refer in some detail to the dates of the coming and 

 going of the green heron, it is because I soon learned that 

 these visits represented much more than the casual roving 

 of one individual. When the green heron appeared for the 

 third succeeding year and remained from the middle of July 

 until the first of November, it looked as if some sort of rough 

 pattern was emerging and that its visits were not acci- 

 dental. Perhaps it had wandered from south of the Columbia 

 River where herons were known to nest. Possibly the bird 

 was stopping on its return migration from farther north 

 nesting places. Close observation might give some more in- 

 formation which would help to determine whether the green 

 heron, because of population pressure, drainage ,of former 

 breeding grounds, or for some other reason, was reaching 

 out into territory far removed from its original habitat. 



I was convinced that the marsh was an ideal place for 

 such observation. The manager lived in the canoehouse and 

 left the area only for short periods. He saw the marsh early 

 in the day and late in the evening. He was equipped with 

 powerful binoculars. Canoehouse Bay, with its abundance of 

 tadpoles, small frogs, and other food, was the best feeding 

 place in the marsh. I patrolled the area one or more times 



