To-day our natural history picture shows three very funny long-legged birds; they look at first sight very like storks, but these birds are herons.

The heron, though much less common than in former days, still holds its place among familiar British birds, being occasionally seen on the banks of almost every river or lake. This bird is about three feet in length, the bill being longer than the head, and the wings when spread measure five feet across; with these large strong wings it can fly to a great height. The heron lives on fish, which it swallows whole, and in great numbers; it can neither swim nor dive, but it wades into the water as far as its long legs will carry it with safety, and stands there as still as if carved out of wood, with its long neck drawn in, and its head resting between the shoulders. It will watch with patience for hours till a fish or a frog comes within its reach, when it stretches out its long neck suddenly, and snatches up its prey with its sharp bill. It mostly prefers to stand under the shadow of a tree, bush, or bank; and from its perfect stillness, and the sober colour of its plumage, it seems often to escape the observation even of the fish themselves.

In old times in England, the sport called hawking, which consisted in the chase of herons by hawks or falcons trained for the purpose, was a very favourite one among both gentlemen and ladies. Young hawks procured from their nests in Iceland or Norway, and carefully trained, were of great value. The sport was generally enjoyed on horseback, and both ladies and gentlemen usually carried the hawks perched upon their wrists, the birds’ heads being covered with a hood till the moment came for letting them fly.

When the heron was discovered, he would soon become aware of the approach of the hawking party; and spreading his broad wings, and stretching out his long neck in front, and his long legs behind, would rise majestically in the air. Then the hawk’s hood was removed, and as soon as he caught sight of the heron, he was let fly in pursuit.

Now a hawk cannot strike unless it is above its prey, and the heron seems instinctively to be aware of this. It used to be thought a fine sight to see these two birds striving to rise each above the other. Round and round they went, wheeling in a succession of circles, always higher and higher. At length the hawk rose high enough to shoot down upon the heron. Sometimes he was received upon the long sharp bill of the latter, and simply spitted himself; but generally he would break the wing of the heron, or clutch him with beak and claws, when the two came fluttering down together.

This sport has now fallen into disuse, and English herons lead a peaceful life enough. There are some at the Zoological gardens, and I think you will laugh to see them standing there at the edge of their pond, with heads sunk between their shoulders, looking like long-nosed old gentlemen in pointed tail-coats.