T. 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 ! 



