How many of the boys and girls who read BIRDS AND ALL NATURE ever saw
a baby heron? I am sure you would like to see ours. He measures from
tip to tip of his wings, that is, with his wings spread just as far as
we could stretch them, five feet and ten inches, and from the tip of
his bill to the tip of his toe very nearly five feet. Now, isn't that
a little baby? He is nearly full-grown but has not on the dress of the
old birds; that is why we call him baby. He is called a crane by some
people, but his right name is great blue heron, and his scientific name
is _Ardea herodias_. Shall I tell you about his dress? His head is all
dusky now, but when he puts on his new dress his forehead and central
part of the crown will be white enclosed by a circle of black--a fine
black crest with two elongated black plumes that make him appear to be
very much dressed up. His back and wings are blue-gray, but like his
head will be decorated with elongated scapulæ feathers, when he gets on
his dress suit, and his long neck, which now has a rather dingy look,
will have a beautiful collar of cinnamon brown tinged with purple and a
white line in front from throat to breast. The tail is short and very
inconspicuous. He really is a beautiful bird in spite of his long neck
and long legs.
He is the largest of our New England herons and is not very abundant.
You may find him about large bodies of water, and during the daytime
he prefers the solitude of the forests and sits quietly in tall trees
for hours, but in the early mornings and late afternoons he may be seen
standing motionless at the edge of the water until a fish or a frog
appears, when, with unerring stroke of his long beak, as quickly as
lightning, he seizes it and beats it until dead, then swallows it; this
act is often repeated. He varies his diet with meadow mice, snakes, and
insects, so he certainly does not lead a very monotonous life. Our baby
ate for his last breakfast four good-sized perch. Wasn't that a fine
breakfast? I know you would like to hear about his early home. It was
in a terribly dismal swamp, where it was almost impossible to reach,
through mud to your knees and through briers and tangled bushes high
as your head. There, several feet above your head was a nest, nearly
flat, made of different sizes of twigs put together in a loose and lazy
manner. Usually there are three or four light bluish-green eggs. Only
one brood is reared in a season.
There are some people who say that the blue heron is good for food,
but those who have once tried it do not care for another plate. They
are the most suspicious of our birds and the hardest to be approached
for they are constantly on the lookout for danger and with their long
necks, keen eyes, and delicate organs of hearing, they can detect the
approach of a hunter long before he can get within gunshot. They have a
very unmusical voice, their call being a hoarse guttural "honk."
Once they were found in larger numbers, but now are seldom seen but
in pairs or singly, and what a pity that foolish fashion of trimming
ladies' hats has nearly exterminated so many varieties of beautiful
birds! God gave us many beautiful things to enjoy in this world, and
are they not more beautiful when we can see them alive in nature just
where God placed them, than they are when dead and taken by pieces to
adorn our heads?