Z. GILBERT PEARSON. 135 
told herons bred in numbers. Upon approaching the place, 
the screams of young birds reached our ears. The cause of 
this soon became apparent by the buzzing of green flies and 
the heaps of dead herons festering in the sun, with the 
back of each bird raw and bleeding. The smouldering em- 
bers of a camp-fire bore witness to the recent presence of 
the plume-hunter. Under a bunch of grass a dead heron 
was discovered, from whose back the plumes had not been 
torn. The ground was still moist with its blood, showing 
that death had not long before taken place. The dirt had 
been beaten smooth with its wings; its neck was arched; 
the feathers on its head were raised; and its bill was buried 
in the blood-clotted feathers of its breast, where a gaping 
wound showed that the leaden missile had struck. It 
was an awful picture of pain. Sorely wounded this heron 
had crawled away, and after enduring hours of agony had 
died, the victim of a foolish passion. Young herons had 
been left by scores in the nests, to perish from exposure 
and starvation. These little sufferers, too weak to rise, 
reached their heads over the nest and faintly called for the 
food which the dead mothers could never bring. 
It is bad to see such sights, from any cause ; but when all 
this is done merely to gratify fashionable women’s vanity, 
it becomes still worse. These are but instances of the 
destruction of bird-life all over the State. Unless something 
is done to stop this awful slaughter, it is only a question of 
a few years before the herons, not only of Florida, but of the 
whole South, will be exterminated. 
Women who know of the cruelty necessary to procure the 
feathers they wear on their hats, should stop wearing them, 
and exert their influence to make other women see how 
cruel and wicked they are. May God’s blessing rest with all 
who strive against this great sin ! 
