Nov. 24, 1906.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
think his nesting place would be on the ground. 
In the lake region of Southern Oregon, we did 
find the great blue heron nesting on the ground, 
surrounded on all sides by gulls, cormorants, 
pelicans and terns. But in other portions of our 
country, a colony of these birds will select the 
tallest firs, deep back in the forest, or the 
sycamores, willows and maples in the midst of 
a swamp. 
We made the first trip to the heronry on April 
21, and found that most of the nests contained 
eggs. There were about 700 nests in the whole 
colony, of which the larger number were black- 
crowned night herons. The great blues and the 
night herons occupied the same trees, nesting 
side by side. The larger nests were built almost 
entirely in the tops of the sycamores, while the 
night herons set their platform nests at the very 
upturned tips of the sycamore’s limbs and in the 
lower surrounding willows and alders. 
When I first climbed in among the nests of a 
smaller tree with my camera, it sounded as if 
I were in the midst of a gigantic henhouse. 
Some of the birds were clucking over their 
eggs that were soon to be hatched; others were 
cackling over newly-laid eggs, and squawking 
at being disturbed; others were wrangling and 
squabbling, so that there was a continual clat¬ 
tering fuss above which one had to yell his 
loudest to be heard. I sat astraddle a limb with 
my note-book in hand. About me, seemingly 
almost within reach, I counted thirty-six sets 
of blue eggs. I was high above the tops of 
the alders and willows. Set all about me in the 
background of green, were the platforms, each 
holding several eggs of blue. The trees were 
dotted in every direction. I counted over 400 
eggs in sight. 
The black-crowned night heron is a very 
different bird from the great blue. It has a 
shiny black patch on the top of its head, and a 
gray body with a black back. The short but 
thick neck and short legs are just the opposite 
of the blue heron. The night heron, as the 
name signifies, is not seen or heard much dur- 
Young black-crowned night heron resisting the invasion 
of the camera. Photo by Finley and Bohlman. 
813 
Young night heron. Showing long angular toes used to 
hang to limbs. 
the nest. The mass of undigested fish in her 
craw seemed to form into small portions and 
come up as the cud of a cow does, and each 
youngster pitched into the meal with a vigor 
and energy, that would have amazed a litter of 
young pigs. 
When you climb anywhere near a nest after 
the young birds have had a good meal, they will 
begin to “unswallow” as fast as they have 
gobbled it down. On account of this habit es¬ 
pecially common among night herons, we found 
it always safe to keep out of the way as much as 
possible, or at least not approach a nest full of 
young birds from below. 
In order to study the life of the herons and 
get some pictures early in the morning before 
the wind sprung up so strong that we could 
hardly hold ourselves in the treetop. which it 
had a habit of doing at that season of the year, 
we camped at the heronry all night. At the 
south end of the heron jungle is a hay field, 
where we took up quarters. We had no trouble 
in keeping awake most of the night to study 
heron habits. The blue herons, as well as the 
“squawks,” or night herons, seemed to keep 
busy most of the night. As some one has said, 
it sounded like several hundred Indians trying 
to throttle each other. Then the mosquitoes 
and frogs were more active after dark. We 
crawled into a haycock and covered ourselves 
up as much to get rid of the pestiferous, blood¬ 
thirsty insects as to keep warm. At daylight we 
felt as much comfort in crawling out to get rid 
of burrs and stickers as we had the night before 
in crawling in to get away from the mosquitoes. 
ing the day unless you visit one of their colonies, 
which is placed generally in some inaccessible 
swamp. As long as these birds can find some 
protected place to nest, they are sure to remain 
in spite of our civilization, for a colony of 
several hundred of them still nest in the maples 
of a dense swamp only a few miles from New 
York city. 
Great blue herons perched lazily in the tops 
of the trees. Looking in one direction, I counted 
over a hundred of them. They were sailing in 
continually and departing. The night herons 
fluttered about in a jerky, labored flight, lighting 
in the willows and hovering over their nests. 
A night heron’s, or as often called, a squawk’s 
nest, looks to me like a mere botch. Some of 
them are not hollowed in the least, but just 
rough platforms. In a wind, the eggs would 
roll off if the mother did not sit to hold them 
on. There is not much trouble after the eggs 
are hatched, for the youngsters seem to kick 
themselves loose from the shell with one foot, 
while they wrap the long, angular toes of the 
other about the nearest twig. 
On our first trip to the heronry, when the 
nests contained eggs, we selected one or two of 
the best and most available to get a good series 
of pictures showing the growth of the young. 
Most all the night heron nests contain four 
eggs. Each egg seemed to hatch in regular 
order about two days apart. When we photo¬ 
graphed the same nest later, we found it held 
three frowsy-headed youngsters and one egg. 
On our third trip, the growth, both in size and 
ugliness, was quite apparent. But on our next 
trip, we found the nest deserted. 
The next time I sat in the treetop, the place 
sounded more like a big duck ranch. Above all 
the squawks of the parents there was a steady 
quacking clatter of the hundreds of young 
herons, that never ceased. The sound grew 
more intense in spots, as here and there a 
mother swept in from the feeding ground and 
fed her children. As I sat watching, an old 
blue heron sailed in and lit on a branch above 
her nest in the adjoining tree. The three 
youngsters twisted in ecstatic contortions as 
the mother stepped awkwardly along the limb. 
Each reached up in full height to grasp her 
long bill. She sat on the nest, calmly looking 
about. The young continued to catch her beak 
and pull it part way down, endeavoring to make 
her feed them. When she got ready, she dis¬ 
gorged a mess of partially digested fish down 
the throat of each nestling, and left as leisurely 
as she came. In another case where the young 
were older, I saw the mother bird disgorge into 
Photographer climbing to nest of great blue heron, 130ft. 
up. Showing strap used in climbing. 
(View with telephoto lens from ground. Limbs appear 
slanting downward, as distance is so high from ground 
up). Photo by Finley and Bohlman. 
