THE ENCAMPMENT OF THE HERONS. 345 
yet it is very difficult to dislodge them. When they 
strike the ground they set off at full speed, and might 
easily escape did they not croak unceasingly as they run. 
The first year many of the young were carried away as 
pets. I kept one several weeks. No confinement was 
needed, for he had no more idea of running away than 
my hens had. Early in the morning, and for an hour or 
two after sunset, he. would walk away into the lowlands, 
‘but would come back to his perch regularly. He was 
unable to forage to his complete satisfaction, however, 
and would sometimes try to catch my young chickens. I 
then took to fishing for him, and then, to my sorrow, 
I found out what a heron’s appetite is; and thought, with 
pity, of the poor parent-birds in the swamp with six or 
eight such maws to fill. Five bream, as large as my 
hand, were not too much of a meal for him. He would 
catch them, all alive, out of the tub of water by the mid- 
dle of the back, toss them up until he got them into the 
right position, head first down his throat; then he would 
Swallow them by dint of great exertion, his neck present- 
ing a curious appearance, as the fish, four inches broad, 
_ passed slowly down, making occasional convulsive at- 
tempts to struggle; a proceeding which seemed to en- 
hance the pleasure of the bird. I once gave him a dry 
dead fish which he got half-way down, where it stuck ; 
he tried and tried in vain to swallow it;then he made: 
equally futile efforts to disgorge ; then he turned his eye 
on me reproachfully and imploringly, so I was fain to 
take him between my knees, and tip up his bill and pour 
water down over the fish with a spoon, until the dried-up 
Slime became again moistened, when, with a long pull 
and a strong pull, the bird engulphed him, gave me an 
ungrateful peck, and stalked off with a “q-u-a-w-k.” 
AMERICAN NAT., VOL. I. 44 
