TWO HERONS 87 
have disputed our progress more valiantly, and on 
reaching the birds’ stronghold, where the compara- 
tive absence of undergrowth deprived our winged 
foes of shelter, I congratulated myself on what, for 
the moment, seemed to be no insignificant feat. 
The eleven nests which my guide had seen on a 
previous occasion were found occupying ‘their for- 
mer positions, at least one hundred feet from the 
ground in dead trees, one of which held five of the 
eleven. During the many years which the birds 
have nested in the place their number has not 
varied, and one wonders what becomes of the from 
thirty to forty young who doubtless each year leave 
the parental trees. No other Herons of this species 
are known to nest in the vicinity, and it is not prob- 
able that the progeny of each year would seek a 
nesting site in some far distant rookery; conse- 
quently, as an alternative explanation, we can only 
suppose that the yearly product of the rookery bal- 
ances its losses by death. 
The young birds were now nearly half grown, 
but, unlike the Night Herons, they did not venture 
outside their nests, from which they uttered harsh 
croaks in evident supplication to their parents for 
food. The sight of the trees in which the nests 
were placed effectually controlled whatever ambi- 
tions I had entertained toward camera studies at 
short range, and I contented myself by making tele- 
photos from the ground, in one of which an adult 
bird and two nests, each with a young bird appear- 
ing above its edge, may be seen.“ 
Time was lacking in which to observe these birds, 
and the value of my visit to their retreat is not to 
