BIRDS OF DURHAM AND VICINITY. 
27 
they cautiously step along, raising each foot and placing it with the 
utmost deliberation, all the while keeping a sharp outlook above, 
around, and beneath. They build huge nests in tall pines, usually 
selecting a site remote from human habitation, regardless of proximity 
to water. Although they often build in communities elsewhere, nests 
that I have known about in this state have been solitary. 
Ardea egretta. American Egret. 196. 
This beautiful heron, nearly as large as the Great Blue, but white 
from tip to tip, is a resident of the south, and only accidentally strays 
to this part of the United States. However, one was shot by Mr. 
Charles Perkins of Newmarket, on the river about a mile above New- 
market village, in the summer of 1897. I saw the bird after it was 
mounted. It was an adult in very good feather. This heron has a 
common grievance with the Bald Eagle against certain Americans. 
The red man sought the eagle's pinions with which to construct the 
ferocious head dress embalmed upon our copper coins; while modern 
woman finds no less joy in the gauzy plumes of the Egret, 
Ardea virescens. Green Heron. 201. 
Green Herons are common along Oyster river and the Fiscataqua 
from May through September. They nest regularly in thick growths 
of small pines and hemlocks. The young are out of the nest for some 
time before they attempt to fly, running through the tree tops almost 
as nimbly as squirrels. At that period they have a peculiar hoary 
appearance owing to the baby down remaining attached to the 
feathers, which push it out on their tips, from the skin. It is truly 
astonishing to see what expert climbers these herons are, when one has 
been accustomed to seeing only their stupid ways on shore. One day 
early in August, I discovered a family of these young birds in a 
grove. They were all near the nest, standing quietly about fifteen 
feet above the ground, though evidently quite awake and intent on 
my movements. After looking them over a few minutes I decided 
that the rest of the party would like to see a young heron also, and 
that I would catch one and take him back to camp to exhibit. I went 
up to the pine in which one of them was standing, and shook it 
vigorously, expecting to see him tumble. He did nothing of the sort, 
but, instead, flopped into the next tree, ran across it, flopped into the 
next, and before I was fully aware of his intentions I had lost sight of 
him. But I shook a tree or two near where I last saw him and soon 
