THE HERON OF CASTLE CREEK.*
IT is sad that Mr. Rees should have died at a comparatively early age. He was an acute observer of Nature and a master of style. Like many first-rate naturalists, he began by being an enthusiastic sportsman. Gradually the savage instinct "to go out and kill something" died away, and his sympathies turned more and more to the side of the quarry rather thar that of the hunter. He loved not to kill bu., to watch. Ii some delightful pa:res on the " Dipper " he says :—
" As he [the male bird] stood in the shallow beneath her and with gently fluttering wings begged that she would accept the tit-bit, and she with much coyness and misgiving stooped to take the tribute, it seemed to me that in the affection of these happy birds I could recognize a sentiment subtly different from mere animal passion—if such I may term the instinctive desire to which the matter-of-fact naturalist is accustomed to refer nearly all the actions of beasts and birds in the mating season of the year. I cannot explain why it seemed to be so. In those rare brief periods of outdoor study when, to my surprise and delight, I have caught a glimpse of what, for want of a better phrase, might be termed the humanity of Nature, I have not merely imagined, but have felt sure, that many of the finest feelings of man—pity, sympathy, devotion, unselfish comrade- ship—are shared in no small measure by creatures considered to be far beneath our plane of life."
The man who wrote these words was perhaps on the great highway which leads to real knowledge and which is found by few. No one can have any true understanding of birds and beasts who does not love them ; love is the master-key to the hidden door which many seek, and seek in vain.
The title of the book is taken from the pleasantly told story, The Heron of Castle Creek. A Norman boy, the son of a great noble, wounds a heron with his arrow. The bird is captured alive, nursed back to health, and set at liberty. While rambling the boy recognizes it, and gradually learns to watch the herons and their young. Ho becomes so fascinated that his father is persuaded to grant the rights of sanctuary over the river and creek where his son's feathered friends live.
In the chapter "Bird Life in a Western Valley" there is a charming and accurate account of the kingfisher, perhaps the most beautiful of our British birds, and indeed the only one which can vie in colour with the humming-bird or the trogon. We wonder how many people in England have seen what Mr.
Rees was so fortunate as to see, a kingfisher engaged with his mate in teaching an eager and attentive little family their trade. It must indeed have been a " sight never to be forgotten." How sensible and thorough is the training of the youthful kingfishers. On reading Mr. Rees's account of their lessons the theughts of some people will wander back to their own schooldays and the melancholy spectacle of the human urchin engaged in "an ineffectual attempt to acquire the useless." Let us hope that things are better than they were forty years ago.
Happily, in spite of the persecution to which most beautiful or rare birds are subjected in this realm of England, the king- fisher has so far held his own. He is a deadly fisherman but an awkward diver. Perhaps his ungainly splash shows up his colours, and so renders him the more beautiful. Mr. Rees does not notice his shrill cry. As we write this review a pair have passed the window calling lustily. Lot us hope they are mated, and that there will be many young kingfishers and a
remote chance of assisting at their lessons later in the year.
Mr. Rees has much that is curious to say about the wood and willow wrens and their homes. Not the least interesting chapters are on the partridge. It would be pleasant to linger on and write more about the shy creatures which peep at us through this attractive book. We can only recommend all who love birds to read Mr. Rees's last work. His Creatures of the Night must already have made him many friends.
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