The Blue Reef heron builds a rough nest of twigs on the ledges of the
rocks, sometimes at the roots of the bronze orchid (DENDROBIUM
UNDULATUM), and endeavours to scare away intruders by harsh squawks,
stupidly betraying the presence of pale blue eggs or helpless brood. When
the blue heron flies with his long neck stiffly tucked between his
shoulders, he is anything but graceful; but under other circumstances he
is not an ungainly bird. Occasionally my casual observations are made
afar off, with the medium of a telescope. Then the birds are seen
behaving naturally, and without fear or self-consciousness. The other day
the cute attitudes of a beach curlew interested me, as he stood upon a
stone just awash, and ever and anon picked up a crab. A blue heron
flapped down beside him, and the curlew skipped off to another rock. In
a minute the heron straightened his neck, poised its long beak for
striking, and brought up a wriggling fish, which with a jerk of its head
it turned end for end and swallowed. Another actor came within the field
of the glass--the mate of the heron, alighting on the stone beside her
lord and master. He was in a peckish humour, and instantly the tufts on
his shoulders, the long feathers on the neck, and the rudimentary crest
were angrily erected, and he made a peevish snap at her.
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