A Colony of Herons 



sion. But my heart was set on the heron that 

 did not materialize, and the expedition was a 

 failure. 



But the heron must be found, and a few weeks 

 later I started again. A three-mile row diag- 

 onally across the lake brings one to Dunham's 

 Bay, and thence my course lay along a creek 

 the most peculiar I ever saw, winding in literal- 

 ly serpentine folds for two miles, and rivalling 

 the famed Meander for crookedness. For the 

 last half mile the weeds almost choked the shal- 

 low channel; and, as I laboriously approached 

 the head of the creek, with only a flock of ducks 

 to enliven the tedious journey, I felt that my 

 patience was almost expended. At last, just as 

 I was on the point of turning back in disgust, I 

 saw a huge shadow pass over the ground before 

 me, and, turning around, I discovered the ob- 

 ject of my search, rising into the air, circling 

 about, and finally alighting in a tree. The thrill 

 of a new discovery, following long and arduous 

 effort, is one of those brief experiences of any- 

 one who reconnoitres among the nooks of Nat- 

 ure, that amply repay a long discouragement. 



The usual resorts of this heron, in summer, 

 are commonly so inaccessible, that one will 

 rarely, if ever, have an opportunity of observ- 

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