A NIGHT-ALARM. 
145 
Almost simultaneously, the handsome crab-hunters, with rust-red 
plumage, and flight as noiseless as that of an owl, make their appear- 
ance ; and last come the most cautious and the wariest of them all, the 
common ash-coloured herons. What a stir — what a tumult ! The air 
resounds with incessant voices, harsh, shrill, piercing ; while the eye oi 
the spectator is dazzled with a whirl of forms — black, gray, yellow, 
white. At length the noise dies away, and a sweet tranquillity prevails. 
Most of the birds are at rest ; a few are still on the wing, however, 
fetching and carrying materials or food, while others have mounted 
guard in the neighbourhood of their homes. But suddenly a night- 
heron is seized with the fancy that a particular blade of grass or a 
straw in his neighbour's nest is better than anything in his own ; 
FT.IOHT OF HERONS. 
and the uproar recommences. Another hush succeeds ; a hush, but 
not a profound silence. Hark I whence proceeds that sudden clang ? 
A kite, whose eyrie is some fifty yards distant, is tranquilly bearing 
off in his talons a young heron. The mother quits her nest, threat- 
ening and growling; but she allows the ravisher to escape with his 
victim, though a single blow of her formidable bill would have slain 
him. Some of the night-herons pursue their enemy, screaming loudly; 
but are recalled by a fresh and louder turmoil. For, see ! a magpie 
here, and a crow there, are busily engaged in stealing their eggs. The 
neighbours of the plundered unfortunates raise a tremendous outcry; 
while other brigands profit by the disturbance to make a descent on 
the temporarily deserted nests, and depart with their booty. Voices 
of grief and vengeance are heard all around, when a shadow seems to 
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