. Bird-land echoes; . under the shed, gettin their horse, andevery one, so far as I could make out, was in a deadtremble. They didnt so much as say good-nightwhen I went up to em, sleepy like, and asked emwhere theyd been. These beautiful night-herons, the millers quoks,have not fared so well of recent years, and there arenow no large heronries within a days journey; or,if any remain, they are so hidden in out-of-the-waycorners that no one has discovered them. WhenI think of the slaughter of night-herons, I cannotfind words in the dictionary to fairly express myfeelings. On more than one occas
. Bird-land echoes; . under the shed, gettin their horse, andevery one, so far as I could make out, was in a deadtremble. They didnt so much as say good-nightwhen I went up to em, sleepy like, and asked emwhere theyd been. These beautiful night-herons, the millers quoks,have not fared so well of recent years, and there arenow no large heronries within a days journey; or,if any remain, they are so hidden in out-of-the-waycorners that no one has discovered them. WhenI think of the slaughter of night-herons, I cannotfind words in the dictionary to fairly express myfeelings. On more than one occasion I coined 164 Bird-Land Echoes. words that nearly suited me, and gave expressionto them, too ; but my pubhshers declined to printthem ; and so, under protest, I will pass on. I was at one time under the impression that thequaint bitterns did not come here, but what an addi-tion they are to the meadows ! That wonderful** booming has all the wildness and weirdness ofIndian times in it. Once I thought I would offer a. Bittern. townsman a treat by conducting him to where hecould hear and probably see the birds. He was de-lighted, and took up his gun, saying that they wereexcellent eating. I didnt go. There is no sound in nature so hopelessly beyonddescription as the booming of the bittern. To acertain extent it is so far the same under nearly allcircumstances as to be recognized at once ; but the By Mill-Pond and Meadow. 165 direction of the wind, the Hght or heavy atmosphere,whether heard by day or by night,—all these con-ditions go far to determine the impression madeupon us by this wild and wary bird, whose cry maysometimes be mistaken for the noise made by aworkman busy in the marsh, or a locomotive in thedistance discharging surplus steam. I have some-times wondered if ventriloquism was not a factor,for I have frequently heard the booming—this oom-l^fik—sounding as if it had travelled a mile or moreover the meadow, when in reality the bird has beenbut a few rods away.
Size: 1964px × 1272px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890, booksubjectbirds, bookyear1896
