Tlie Music of the Marsh 



if it were a tiling for which to apologize. Perliajjs 

 they hesitate to admit it on account of the mourn- 

 ful evening and night cry, which is a terror, re- 

 sembling a rolling, melancholy, long-drawn "Ha, 

 ha! week! Ha, ha! Meek." Poets have written 

 of the laughing of the loon; but as this cry swells 

 across the marsh, gathering force as it tra\els, mi- 

 til it comes reverberating from the forests and hills 

 of the distance, it seems to awaken feelings simi- 

 lar to those roused by the cries of a hungry panther. 

 As loons occur only as straying migrants in my 

 country, I am not sufficiently accjuainted with 

 tliem to know what act accompanies these cries, or 

 why they are uttered. It is presumable that the 

 loon is having just as good a time as any other 

 bird, and no doubt his crazy laughter is uttered in 

 calling a mate, in love-making, or to exjH'ess the 

 pure enjoyment of his life. 



After an experience M'ith loon music it is al- 

 most a relief to hear the rasinng scream of a blue 

 heron — "Ker-awk! ker-awk!" The entire family 

 of cranes and herons are beautiful marsh birds. 

 The blue heron is a fine specimen, at times o^'er 

 forty inches in height, with an immense beak ; 

 bright, steel-blue plumage, cleaidy marked with 

 black, brown, and white; high crest, flowing beard, 

 eyes that snap as the bird vaguely realizes an im- 

 seen danger, and feathers sparkling witli mist aiid 

 dew from the wet rushes among which he feeds. 



'' 417 



