626 HOMES -WITHOUT HANDS. 



the bird eats plenty of frogs and newts, and will often secure a 

 water-rat even when fuUy grown. It is seldom that fish which 

 are of any value to the angler come into water in which the 

 Heron could catch them, and even if they did so, their size 

 would prevent the bird from taking them. 



At Walton Hall, where the Herons breed largely, and where 

 they procure nearly aU the food for themselves and young out of 

 the lake, there is no lack of fish, as may be practically proved 

 by any one who is permitted to cast a line into the water. I am 

 a very poor fisherman, and yet I never found any difficulty in 

 taking in the course of the morning quite as many fish as could 

 easily be carried home. 



So far indeed is the Heron from injuring the interests of the 

 angler, that it is a positive benefactor. Mr. Waterton, who was 

 obliged by the continual burrowing of water-rats to drain and 

 fill up a series of large ponds, makes the following remarks on 

 the bird : — " Had I known then as much as I do now of the 

 valuable services of the Heron, and had there been a good 

 heronry near the place, I should not have made the change: 

 The draining of the ponds did not seem to lessen the number of 

 rats in the brook ; but soon after the Herons had settled here to 

 breed, the rats became exceedingly scarce, and now I rarely see 

 one in the place where formerly I could observe numbers sitting 

 on the stones at the mouth of their holes, as soon as the sim had 

 gone below the horizon." 



When the Heron flies to its nest from any great distance, it 

 generally ascends to a considerable height, and is in the habit of 

 uttering a curious and very harsh cry, which at once tells the 

 naturalist that a Heron is on the wing. When a Heron passes 

 immediately over the observer, the efiTect is very remarkable, the 

 long, stretcbed-but legs and neck and slender body looking like 

 a large knitting-needle supported on enormous wings. 



To see the Heron alight on its nest or on a branch is rather a 

 curious sight. The bird descends, drops its long legs, places its 

 feet on the branch, and then flaps its huge wings as if to get its 

 balance before it settles down. The rustics have an idea that a 

 Heron is obliged to allow its legs to dangle on either side of the 

 nest while it sits on its eggs, and some wiU aver that a hole is 

 made in the nest through which the legs can be thrust It is 

 scarcely necessary to say that the construction of a bird's legs 



