TWO HERONS 77 



The Night Heron or Quawk belongs among the 

 birds for whom the setting sun marks the beginning 

 of a new day — a fact which protects him from man 

 and permits his existence in numbers where others 

 of his family are rarely seen. Doubtless many of 

 the residents of Heronville know their feathered 

 neighbors only as a voice from the night, which 

 comes to them when the birds, in passing over, utter 

 their loud and startling call. 



Finally, to the protecting influences of a love for 

 seclusion and darkness must be added the unusual 

 position assumed by the proprietor of the land, who 

 will not permit any one to kill tlio birds, and, 

 stranger still, does not kill them himself I 



Thus it happens that any day in May or June, 

 the months during which the Herons are at home, 

 one may leave the crowded streets of New York and 

 within an hour or so enter an equally crowded but 

 quite different kind of town. 



If after leaving the train you secure the same 

 guide it was my good fortune to have, your way will 

 lead over shaded roads, pleasant fields, and qiiiet 

 woodland paths, and, if the sun is well up in the 

 trees, you may enter the outskirts of the rookery 

 and be wholly unaware, unless you approach from 

 the leeward, that Itetwoen two and three thousand 

 Herons are within a few hundred yards of yi>u. 



One may gain a far better idea of Heron life, 

 liowever, by visiting the rookery while the foliage 

 is still glistening with dew. Then, from a distance, 

 a chorus of croaks may be heard from the j^oiing 

 birds as they receive what, in effect, is their supper. 

 Old birds are still returning from fishing trips, and 



