116 THE SHORES. 
prince, a feudal bird; kings esteemed it kingly sport to hunt him, and 
considered him a meet quarry for the 
noble falcon. And so keenly was 
he hunted, that already, in the reign 
of Francis I, he had grown rare: 
that monarch lodged him near his 
own palace at Fontainebleau, and 
established there some _ heronries. 
Two or three centuries pass, and 
Buffon can still believe that there 
are no provinces in France where 
heronries could not be found. In 
our own days, Toussenel knows of 
but one in all the country—at least 
in its northern districts, in Cham- 
pagne: a wood between Rheims and 
Epernay conceals the last asylum 
where the poor lonely bird still dares 
to hide his loves. 
Lonely! In that lies his con- 
demnation. Less gregarious than the 
crane, less domesticated than the 
stork, he seems to have grown harsh 
towards his progeny, towards the 
mate whom he loves. His brief 
rare fits of desire scarcely beguile 
him for a day from his melancholy. 
He cares little for life. In captivity 
he often refuses nourishment, and 
pines away without complaint and 
without regret. 
The aquatic birds, creatures of 
great experience, for the most part 
reflective aud learned in two elements, were, at their palmiest epoch, 
