WONDERFUL INSTINCT. 
163 
abruptly round, and flew straight back to their acquaintance in the 
tree. The three then set up a trio of abuse, that was more than 
birdish flesh and blood could bear, for the foolish fisher once more 
rose upon the wing. No sooner was it fairly under weigh, than its 
tormentor instantly followed in pursuit, aided most willingly by the 
two recruits, who joined in the sport with singular alacrity. In vain 
the Heron swerved and doubled — in vain it lifted up its most im- ^ 
earthly voice and shrieked — for as far as the eye could see, the chase 
continued, one on each side, and one behind, like three small police- 
men conducting a big reeling na^n^y to the station-house. 
I remember a story that used to be current in my early days, 
which would always command my youthful attention. It was of a 
great conflict, which has found no mention in Professor Creasy's work 
on the decisive battles of the world, but which, in its way, was quite 
as decisive as Marathon or Waterloo. This engagement was between 
an army of Books on the one hand, and an army of Herons on the 
other, for the right of possession to certain fine trees, which, as the 
papers say of waste land, constituted a very eligible site for building 
purposes. After the combat had raged for a long time — two or 
three days — and the ground had been thickly strewn "with the dead 
and dying, the Herons began to shew the white feather, and were at 
last driven off, leaving the victorious Books masters of the coveted 
eituation. 
In that most interesting little volume, entitled the * Mar- 
vels and Mysteries of Instinct/ we find this illustration : — 
We shall stop to notice one instinct only of this bird, and that is 
one not a little wonderful in its character. It is generally known 
that fish are alarmed at shadows upon the water, especially at those 
in motion ; but this is the case more particularly with the trout and 
salmon tribes. They dislike to approach a shadow at rest; but 
when disturbed by one in motion they dart away as if with fright 
into the deep, and return to the spot only after a lengthened period. 
Now the Heron seems familiar with the habits of such fish, and 
shapes her conduct accordingly ; for she fishes only in the absence of 
the sun, when there can be no shadow to frighten away her prey. 
Such being the case, this ' bird alights in a quiet way, then wades 
into the water to its depth, folds its long neck partially over its back, 
and forward again, and with watchful eye awaits till a fish comes 
within reach of its beak. Instantaneously it darts, and the prey is 
secured.' It is not surely from knowledge that the Heron fishes at the 
right time ; for, if so, she must obtain it by experience, and this is, 
we think, a task too much beset with difficulties for this or any other 
bird to accomplish. If the old ones only did it, and the younger 
not, the supposition might be entertained ; but the great probability 
is that all act aHke, and that the young adopt the practice with 
as much readiness and apparent sagacity as the oldest and most 
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