Colonel Swinhoe, says Mr. Howard Saunders, describes the nests "as placed thickly in some venerable banyans, the granite slabs that form the pavement beneath the trees being bedaubed with the droppings of old and young, while from the nests arose the chattering cry of the callow broods, for which the parent birds were catering the whole day long, becoming more active at sunset. As darkness set in, the noise and hubbub from the trees rose to a fearful pitch."
[Illustration: _Photo by W. P. Dando, F.Z.S._] [_Regent's Park._
This bird habitually picks insects from the backs of cattle.]
In Hungary large numbers of herons and egrets breed together in the marshes, egrets and night-herons breeding together with the common and purple herons. Landbeck, an enthusiastic ornithologist, writes of such heronries: "The clamour in these breeding-places is so tremendous and singular in its character as almost to defy description; it must be heard before a person can form any idea of what it is like. At a distance these hideous noises blend with a confused roar, so as in some way to resemble the hubbub caused by a party of drunken Hungarian peasants; and it is only on a nearer approach the separate notes of the two species, the common and the night-heron, can be distinguished--namely, 'craik' and 'quack,' to which the notes of the young, 'zek-zek-zek,' ... in different keys, serve as an accompaniment. When close to, the noise is tremendous and the stench unbearable. This, together with the sight of dozens of young herons in every stage of putrefaction and teeming with maggots, is perfectly sickening, though the contemplation of life and movement in this immense heronry is a matter of interest to the true ornithologist.... The tops of the highest trees are usually occupied by the nests of the common heron; a little lower down is the habitation of the shy and beautiful GREAT EGRET, while in the forks of the lowest branches the night-heron takes up her abode. All these species build in one and the same tree, the nests numbering not infrequently as many as fifteen in a single tree, and yet peace invariably reigns amongst all these varieties. High over the trees appears the common heron, laden with booty, announcing his arrival with a hoarse 'craaich,' when, changing his note to a goose-like 'da-da-da-da,' he either jerks the provender down the throats of the ever-hungry youngsters or throws it up before them, when the fish are greedily swallowed, amid a desperate accompaniment of 'gohé-é-é-é, gohé-é-é-é',' a sound much resembling the frantic cry of a calf which is being lifted into a farmer's market-cart. The conduct of the more cautious egret is very different. Circling far above the nest, she first satisfies herself that no foe is hidden below before she alights among her family, which are much quieter and less hasty than their cousins. The night-herons, on the contrary, approach their nests from all sides, high and low, their crops filled with frogs, fish, and insects. A deep 'quâk' or 'gowek' announces the arrival of the old bird already from some distance, to which the young answer, while feeding, with a note resembling 'queht, queht,' or 'quehaoâheh, quehoehah'. As soon as the parents have taken their departure the youngsters recommence their concert, and from every nest uninterrupted cries of 'tzik, tzik, tzik, tzek-tzek, tzek,' and 'gétt, gétt-gétt,' are the order of the day. This amusement is varied by the nestlings climbing out among the branches till they reach the top of the tree, whence they can have a good look-out, and can see the old birds returning home from a long distance, though they are in many cases often mistaken in their identity."