The Green Heron 199 



loose platform of twigs which served for a nest. Day after day, when I crept 

 cautiously to the brink and looked down, I could see one of them sitting on 

 the green eggs forty feet beneath me. Below the nest, the still water of the 

 sink was never ruffled by a passing breeze, and from its depths frogs and small 

 turtles climbed to projecting bits of rock, and added the only touches of life 

 to the weird scene. 



A mile away, in a small water oak tree growing in an abandoned field, I 

 found another nest the succeeding year. Possibly it was built by some of the 

 young hatched in the deep shadows of the sink. There was no way to approach 

 this nest without the birds discovering the intruder long before the tree was 

 reached. Twice we visited the spot, and each time the parent bird which was 

 at home departed hastily when we were within a hundred feet of the tree. 

 It is not good to disturb birds too frequently when they have the care of their 

 eggs or young, so we did not go near the tree again until the young had flown. 

 Although the nest was so frail that one could see the eggs through the twigs 

 from the ground below, it must have been securely built, for much of it was 

 still in position the next spring when we again went to the old field, hoping 

 that the Green Herons might still be using the tree as a nesting-place. 



In the edge of the lake nearby, there grew thickly clustered many tall 

 buttonwood bushes, in which, each April, were built the nests of a colony of 

 Boat-tailed Grackles, those large, shiny, black birds common in 

 At the Lake that region of the far South. One spring a pair of Green Herons 

 made their nest here and, despite the great noise and clatter 

 which always prevails in a Blackbird colony, they appeared to find the location 

 quite to their liking, for later the young were seen with their parents along the 

 shore. 



If you should chance some summer to visit the farm of Mr. Alden H. 

 Hadley, in Indiana, he would probably take you out to his large apple orchard 

 and there show you six or eight nests of the Green Herons. For many years, 

 this little colony has gathered here each season when the birds return to the 

 North after the snows have gone. Nearby there flows a small stream along 

 which the birds gather their food, chiefly by night. Up and down the stream, 

 across fields and through the woods, the birds follow its winding course, 

 collecting the minnows, frogs, grasshoppers and various water insects and 

 crustaceans which they delight to eat. 



Perhaps a more striking example of this bird's tendency to rear its young 

 near the abode of man is shown by the fact that, in Pelham Bay Park, within 

 the limits of Greater New York City, a little colony of four or five pairs have 

 for several years selected an old apple orchard in which to make their nests 

 and hatch their young. 



Thus we may see that the Green Heron has a wide range of suitable places 

 to select for nest-building. Often the nest is far from any pond or lake, and 

 frequently it is found singly, with no other Heron's nest near. Yet this 



