to us to come up quietly behind him and look
over his shoulder. "Up there," said he, pointing into the top of one of
the pines. In a fork, formed by the very highest branches, there was a
great mass of sticks and reeds as large as a two-bushel basket.

"That's one of the nests," whispered Addison. "And see that head and
long, pointed beak, just over the top of it! The old hen heron is
brooding."

"But look there!" whispered Halstead, pointing into another tree.

On a high, dead limb stood a heron on one long leg, perfectly
motionless. The other foot was drawn up so as to be hidden in the
feathers of the under part of its body. Its neck was crooked back so far
that its long bill rested on its breast. It was seemingly asleep, and
looked so ungainly that Ellen laughed outright, despite Addison's
injunctions to be quiet.

Several other nests were presently discovered, high up among the green
boughs.

"If you want to shoot one, to stuff," whispered Halstead, "you will not
get a better chance than that," pointing to the one asleep. "He is just
in good easy range."

"It seems too bad to shoot him, while he is sleeping," said Theodora.

"Once let him wake up and see us, and he will make himself scarce in a
hurry," said Halstead. "Better make sure of him, Ad."

Addison cocked the gun, and, raising it slowly, fired. The great bird
uttered a hoarse squawk, straightened up, then toppled over and fell to
the ground. Instantly there arose a deafening chorus of squawks. Herons
flew up from the tree tops all about us. The tops of the pines fairly
rocked. Great sticks, dirt and cones came rattling down. Upward they
soared in a great flock, several hundred feet above the trees, then flew
around and around overhead, uttering hoarse cries.

We ran to the place where the wounded heron had fallen. He lay extended
on the ground; but a bright sinister eye was turned up, watching us with
silent defiance.

"Don't go too near," said Addison. "He will strike with his beak. You
know I read to you, from Audubon, how a gentleman came near losing an
eye from the sudden stroke of a wounded heron. They always aim for the
eye."

He put out the butt of the gun, extending it slowly toward the bird. The
heron watched it till within a couple of feet, then struck quick as
thought, darting its bill against the hard walnut of the gunstock.

Meanwhile the other herons had flown off to the side of the mountain,
half a mile away. Now and then one wo