202 In Heron 
the plume-hunters—fortunately now out- 
lawed—have left but a pitiful remnant. 
Only a few stragglers can be seen near 
towns and railroads. To find them I had to 
drive off ito the wilderness, where a party 
of us camped on the edge of a great morass, 
under a clump of fine cabbage palms, far 
from human habitation, where “’eators” 
bellowed, deadly moccasins abounded, and 
wild cattle, razor-backed hogs, mosquitoes, 
and reptiles did their best to make us miser- 
able. The great morass was four miles across 
and some dozen in length, with water from 
three to eight feet in depth, overgrown with 
saw grass and various aquatie plants, through 
which, with great labor, we had to pole our 
boat. Here and there, out in this expanse, 
were small, low islands covered with willow 
thickets. Here, late in April, we found 
herons, by hundreds and even thousands, 
nesting. May no plume-hunter find them; 
they never will through me! Of the familar 
five of the north, I found there all but the 
larger bittern. Commonest of all was the 
beautiful azure-blue Louisiana heron, and 
next the little blue heron; these were the 
ns - 
Haunts 
two abundant kinds. They bred together 
on the same islets, along with a few yellow- 
crowned and black-crowned night herons, 
and the beautiful aigrette-bearing snowy 
heron. This kind, with the larger American 
eeret, seemed almost to have been made ex- 
tinct. But the other sorts that do not bear 
plumes were here still numerous enough 
to fairly crowd the willows with their frail 
nests and blue eggs. As we poled along in 
the boat, they flew out by hundreds. 
A final word about photographing the 
herons. For working on their nests or young 
in trees, I use a ball and socket clamp with 
the camera, and screw a bolt into the trunk 
or branch, on which to clamp the imstru- 
ment. By leaving the camera focused on a 
nest, concealed as much as possible, patience 
may finally be rewarded, after many trib- 
ulations and the expenditure of much time. 
As herons are in the habit of standing still 
for quite an interval, I find the telephoto 
lens especially useful, either operated from 
concealment in the rookery, or from some 
cover along the edge of shores where herons 
are wont to feed. 
