158 THE CONDOR 
In driving by the shore on August 14, nine of the large birds were flushed, 
so many in the brown plumage of the young that it was evident a family had 
been launched. A young one seen on a fence post reflected in the water, by help — 
of the glass showed the characteristic red eye and yellowish green bill and legs. 
In one of the dark-backed adults mounted on a post, the usually creamy fore- 
head and chin were a beautiful yellow, and he appropriately raised his yellow 
foot to seratch his sulphury throat. 
A section of fence extending into the lake at the corner nearest the farm- 
house was one of the favorite perches of the Herons, and they got so used to 
seeing me go along that they would not rise when I passed. At sunset one night 
a party of them was fishing in this corner; the adults perched on posts. The 
young in alighting among the tules would flap their brown-striped wings over 
the marsh, their long yellowish green legs dangling in indecision till their own- 
ers finally got courage to let themselves down among the sharp pointed reeds. 
One of the old Herons, an Eager Fisherman, on the post farthest out in the 
lake, watched the water for a long time, head down, legs bent, and toes hang- 
ing over the edge of the post, ready to drop at the flash of a minnow; but 
though many came to the surface not far away, none came to his net. Again 
and again he started to lift his wings, evidently from false hopes. An inexperi- 
enced young one on an adjoining post was an amusing contrast in pose and 
method to the Eager Fisherman. Instead of leaning over, ready to drop 
on his prey, he stood with body erect, legs straight, and feet firmly planted on 
the middle of the post. But although he had much to learn, before long he be- 
gan to look at the water with signs of intelligence, and to get his spear ready 
for action. 
A second brown streaked one flew over and lit on the barbed wire between 
posts just above the surface of the water, close to the post of the Eager Fisher- 
man, who, although his prospective minnows were probably scared away by 
the interruption, turned with evident interest toward the young one who may 
well have been his son. A third young Heron tried to light on the wire farther 
from the supporting post but wobbled so much, in spite of raised wings, that 
he had to give up the attempt. He then flew to his inexperienced brother on 
the post, but was jabbed at by a long bill till he had to go about his business. 
And, sad to relate, before the Eager Fisherman had ever caught anything, an- 
other adult came and took forcible possession of his post! } 
While this pantomime was progressing, some of the other Herons did a most 
surprising thing. One would fly out beyond the last post, and hesitating, al- 
most hovering over the water, peer down into it; then go on; after a while 
coming back to try again, and finally with dangling legs let itself cautiously 
down till up to its body in water, when it sat there horizontally like a Duck, 
looking as awkward and uncomfortable as you would expect a long-legged — 
Heron to do in so unnatural a position. Then suddenly it would shoot for- 
ward and fly up with something—probably a minnow—dangling from its bill! — 
What was the explanation? How could a long-legged Heron sit on the water? 
At first I thought there might be submerged fence posts to stand on, but then — 
remembered the muskrat houses said to have been in sight the year before when > 
the water was lower, and realized that two of the Herons lit just about far 
enough apart to be standing on two ends of a long house. The farmer con- 
firmed this theory, saying that while there were no fence posts, then: were 
submerged muskrat houses. | 
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