PHOTOGRAPHING THE HERON 
EAMILY 
BY A. EARL MARK 
PHOTOGRAPHS BY THOMAS E. MARR 
I T was the summer before, when engaged 
in doing some work on a country es- 
tate, that 1 learned of the location of 
the heron rookery, and, owing to the season 
being too far advanced then, mentally made 
a note that 1 would pay the herons a visit 
early the next summer, in season to study 
their family life. 
Early on the morning of the tenth of 
May, I started on my mission, with an 
assistant who assured me that he was 
“great on climbing’’ — and who afterward 
had a chance — an eight by ten camera, the 
usual outfit of lenses, etc., and two dozen 
plates. It might be wise to add here that 
when visiting herons wear old clothes. We 
found these, with rubber boots and -a plen- 
tiful supply of stout cord, as essential as the 
camera. 
After an hour’s ride we reached the near- 
est station, and then followed a walk of 
nearly two miles with a heavy load and 
the temperature that of midsummer. The 
rookery was located in a dense swamp, 
mostly spruce, with a bottom wet and 
spongy. We had no uncertainty of mind 
as to whether we were in the right place, or 
if the birds were at home. The noise, as 
we attempted to crawl, push and scratch 
our way in, was well-nigh deafening. 
Our first trip was intended for photo- 
graphing the eggs and nests, and it was with 
isome trepidation we prepared to ascend the 
Mrst tree, fearing that the hatching proc- 
might be too far advanced, thus los- 
us the first stage in the series planned. 
Our doubts were soon dissipated; the nest 
contained four eggs, about the size of hens’ 
eggs, and light green in color. 
The trees grew closely and were generally 
small in diameter. This made climbing 
difficult, and then the nests were built near 
the tops. We soon discovered it would be 
quite out of the question to attempt to 
photograph the nests from the trees them- 
selves. Accordingly, my assistant, who 
was “great on climbing,’’ began his climb, 
and succeeded in reaching the first nest only 
through his light weight and the tenacity 
with which he hugged the trunk. The cord 
then came into use, and with that and 
an old soft felt hat the eggs were carefully 
lowered to the ground for photographing 
— then followed the nest. Afterward the 
nest was hauled back and craftily pressed 
into place again. 
Upon our entrance into their domain 
the birds had quickly left the vicinity with 
much loud squawking. Now a few, more 
bold than their fellows, carefully flew back, 
but quickly left when they discovered that 
the unwelcome visitors were still there. 
We explored still farther into the swamp 
and found a seemingly endless number 
of nests. Some trees contained but one, 
though rarely; usually there were four, 
five and six — sometimes more. From the 
tree tops, as far as one could see, nests were 
discernible, composed of dried branches 
and twigs; in size, perhaps, about a foot 
and a half in diameter. The nests were 
usually built from thirty to forty feet from 
the ground, and contained, at this time, all 
unhatched eggs and generally four in a 
clutch, rarely five. After photographing 
a sufficient number of specimens, we con- 
cluded to leave the rookery to the dutiful 
parents. 
Our next trip occurred on the first of 
June, sufficient time having elapsed, we be- 
