where the five degrees of slope was in 

 under us and a crumbling of the sand 

 meant a straight drop of fifty or sixty 

 feet, so we left them with "requiescat in 

 pace." For a quarter of a mile we fol- 

 lowed along the top of the bluff, watch- 

 ing the river and the tree tops below us. 

 Flocks of ducks were flying up and down 

 the river, quacking vigorously. Now and 

 then a big, ugly "shack" rose from a 

 stump and flapped across the river. Isles 

 big and little and middlesized were dot- 

 ted in the stream, all heavily covered with 

 underbrush, an excellent refuge for the 

 ducks in their nesting season a little later 

 on. A big white pellican sat. on a log 

 watching its victims in the water. The 

 river curves and bends and doubles on 

 itself, and never goes straight for forty 

 yards at a time. At a bend we came upon 

 a scene that delighted our ornithological 

 eyes. One hundred feet below us, in the 

 tops of a clump of cottonwoods, was a 

 heronry. Dozens of big, basket-like nests 

 blackened the tree tops, and perched on 

 the very topmost branches were dozens 

 of long-legged, crooked-necked, great 

 blue herons. As we came upon them they 

 started up, flapping their wings, stretch- 

 ing out their necks and pulling in their 

 legs behind them. Uttering cries like 

 those of the seagulls, they flapped off and 

 lit away upon the plains, but within sight 

 of us, and seemed to be holding a con- 

 sultation. We could see into the most 

 of the nests, and they were all empty. It 

 was a little too early for the birds to be- 

 gin nesting, and they were evidently mat- 

 ing and perhaps deciding who should 

 have first choice. Some nests looked like 

 old family residences of many genera- 

 tions, for they had several stories and 

 additions, porticos and dormer windows, 

 so to speak, in abundance. 



We passed on, and when the valley 

 widened out again we descended and sat 

 down under the oaks to eat our luncheon. 

 It soon disappeared, the last morsel, and 

 we were on our way again. At long in- 

 tervals farm houses appeared on the edge 



of the bluff, and in the river below one 

 of them, on the opposite side of the 

 stream from us, was a curious old water- 

 wheel on a flatboat securely moored to 

 the trees on the bank, and which la- 

 boriously and noisily jerked water up 

 through a pipe to the bluff above. The 

 meadows along the river are the pastur- 

 age of big herds of horses and cattle, and 

 one is lucky if one's perambulations are 

 not interrupted by some inhospitable bull. 

 As we ascend the river it grows swifter 

 and more rocky and the top of the bluff 

 rolls higher and higher and the hills ap- 

 pear in the distance. When we came to 

 the first of these low hills we climbed the 

 bluff and ascended it. It was a peculiar 

 formation of stone resembling sand in 

 softness or sand resembling stone in 

 hardness, we could hardly determine 

 which. It was seamed and ribbed, pro- 

 jecting cliff-like into the air, with boul- 

 ders lying about and with caverns and 

 precipitous sides. As we scaled to the 

 top of it we scared away a number of 

 turkey buzzards that had been watching 

 our ascent, and it was evidently their 

 nesting place, as we discovered traces of 

 old nests and a good many bones of the 

 hapless denizens of the plains. We start- 

 ed several of the big boulders at the edge 

 rolling and plunging down, and, though 

 most of them broke up in their downward 

 career, they stopped only when, after a 

 great plunge, they settled in the bed of 

 the river. Sometimes as they thundered 

 down they would startle a rabbit from 

 his repose, and off he would scamper in 

 great affright. But it was getting near 

 sundown and we were miles from our 

 wagon, and even when we reached that 

 we would be ten miles from home, so we 

 set out on our return with spirits not 

 lacking, but appetites sorely pressing. The 

 miles of climbing up hill and down hill 

 in the pure air had done us more good 

 than months in a gymnasium, and when, 

 long after dark, we reached our home in 

 Fresno town, what a supper we did eat. 



Charles Elmer Jenney. 



"2 



