herodias_
must long ago have fallen from grace. I imagine his state of mind to be
always like that of our pilgrim fathers in times of Indian massacres.
When they went after the cows or to hoe the corn, they took their guns
with them, and turned no corner without a sharp lookout against ambush.
No doubt such a condition of affairs has this advantage, that it makes
ennui impossible. There is always something to live for, if it be only
to avoid getting killed.

After this manner did the Hillsborough River majors all behave
themselves until my very last walk beside it. Then I found the
exception,--the exception that is as good as inevitable in the case of
any bird, if the observation be carried far enough. He (or she; there
was no telling which it was) stood on the sandy beach, a splendid
creature in full nuptial garb, two black plumes nodding jauntily from
its crown, and masses of soft elongated feathers draping its back and
lower neck. Nearer and nearer I approached, till I must have been within
a hundred feet; but it stood as if on dress parade, exulting to be
looked at. Let us hope it never carried itself thus gayly when the wrong
man came along.

Near the major--not keeping him company, but feeding in the same
shallows and along the same oyster-bars--were constantly to be seen two
smaller relatives of his, the little blue heron and the Louisiana. The
former is what is called a dichromatic species; some of the birds are
blue, and others white. On the Hillsborough, it seemed to me that white
specimens predominated; but possibly that was because they were so much
more conspicuous. Sunlight favors the white feather; no other color
shows so quickly or so far. If you are on the beach and catch sight of a
bird far out at sea,--a gull or a tern, a gannet or a loon,--it is
invariably the white parts that are seen first. And so the little white
heron might stand never so closely against the grass or the bushes on
the further shore of the river, and the eye could not miss him. If he
had been a blue one, at that distance, ten to one he would have escaped
me. Besides, I was more on the alert for white ones, because I was
always hoping to find one of them with black legs. In other words, I was
looking for the little white egret, a bird concerning which, thanks to
the murderous work of plume-hunters,--thanks, also, to those good women
who pay for having the work done,--I must confess that I went to Florida
and came home again with