YOUNG BLACK-CROWNED 

 NIGHT HERON 



The Black-crowned Night Heron 



Heron is a sound sleep- 

 y day. Besides, given 

 convenient food 

 supply, suitable cover, 

 and absolute protec- 

 tion, any bird 

 will nest any- 

 where. 



For partic- 

 ular considera- 

 tion a crowded 

 half acre near 

 Los Bahos will 

 do as well as any. 

 One approach- 

 ing in late May, 

 through the 

 waist-high wa- 

 ters which guard 

 the place, would 

 hardly suspect 

 from a casual heron or two the sleeping volcano ahead. Suddenly at 

 fifty yards there is a salute — unmatched suitors, perhaps — then a volley — 

 careless fathers — then another volley — timorous birds, whose homes are 

 not completed yet, making agonized fl's and M's of flight — then, as we 

 near the margin of the reeds an irruption ensues, a general exodus of 

 both sexes and of all save the most devoted dispositions. After that the 

 reeds continue to emit squawks in puffs and belches. Stately figures 

 fit for Japanese screens alternate with frenzied mountebanks who have 

 lost, under stress, the very last trace of dignity. 



Nests are at every level, from the top of the reeds above your head 

 to those which have been caught and submerged by the rising water; 

 nests built on the bent down reeds; nests caught midway of the stems; 

 nests of every sort, flat, flimsy, unpretentious; nests rounded, bowl-shaped 

 and substantial; nests of cat- tail leaves alone, laid flat-wise; nests of 

 Kern greasewood stems; nests of long fine eucalyptus branches brought 

 from far. Many nests are empty; pale blue eggs, three or four in num- 

 ber, dotted with fine chalky pimples, lie in others; while a few hold 

 wriggling young. 



A week later we shall see the youngsters to better advantage. As 

 we approach the nest, the chicks will either cower and shiver or else freeze 

 religiously until actually disturbed. Once the spell is broken, habit 



1914 



