The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1895-08-22
JIM AND THE HERON.
A True Story of Maine Summer Resort
Possibilities in the Matter Of Thrilling
Sports and Adventures.
Corr. of the PRESS.

Never mind the name Of this Boston
youth, nor just where all this happened
1t is sufficient to say that it was at a
beautiful inland lake, one of Names
popular summer resorts, that the hero
first name is Jim, that the heron is no
fake, just as it proved to be no joke, and
that thisis a spotlessly true tale Of Bos-
ton enterprise and Maine attractions.
1t happened only the other day and
the writer was privileged to be in at the
death, though not quite so much Sin it, :"
as Jim was.
Jim had been at the Lake for several
weeks last summer. He is an enthusiasts
tic sportsman, and was then. He had
a repeating shot gun.
His appetite for slaughter was soon
cloyed by the dead bodies Of various
stray 'sand peeps. " A rattling king6sher
was carefully stalked and aimed at time
and again, but proved SO successful in
lodging shot that he is still sounding
his rattle, fiuttering along the shores and
diving inc the shallow waters of the lake.
Beside there was bigger game and, moi
dentally bigger mark for Jim's shot
gun; at least one less likely to dodge shot,
Than the agile kingfsher. A long billed,
long-legged heron had Its abode in that
region. He was wise and solemn look
ing old fellow, but he was not lacking
in humor. He had seen the king fisher
lodging shot and had heard with envy
its merry chuckle over Jim's dlscom-
future. His was lonely and monotonous
life, this wise old herons, SO he said to
himself, ~ too will have some fun with
this youth from Boston. will lead him
wild goose chase even though I am but
a slow and solemn heron -
The kinghsher was soon deserted for
this more fascinatiny quarry, for the
solemn old heron, which Jim persisted and
delighted in calling crane, kept his pur-
suer on very tenter hooks of.delightful yet
exasperating expectancy by never quite
allowing the necessity to occur for the
lodging of shot. Jim was always just
about to shoot, but never could seem to
get quite within range The heron was as
old in experience as he was wise in aspect.
He had not only seen guns before, but
he had had experience with Jinls for
many years. He knew just how far those
guns could shoot and just how straight
such Jims could point them.
All summer long last year Jim chased
the heron along the sandy beaches and
rocky shores, from point to point of that
beautiful little lake, creeping through
the woods, to turn the enemy's flank, so
to speak, crawling along the shores and
stealthily padding his boat, always ready
to pull the trigger. but never doing SO,
until at last the time to go home arrived.
During the winter there glowed I'M
quenchably in Jim's bosom hot and
ranking fire of resentment and OF long
ing for revenge.
All last summer the solemn old bird en-
joyed himself and frequently muttered
within his bill that life was really worth
the living. The bull frogs were aston
ished. The ever watchful eye and mero1-
less, unerring bill of their grim enemy
were actually not always on the alert.
They even occasionally saw twinkle IN
of a smile along that terrible bill.
Jim came back this year, and the gun
came with him. The heron had missed
him so much that he had acquired the
habit of retiring into some swamp In the
forest and moping there for days at q
time. Therefore he wasn't aware OF
Jim's arrival till some time afterward,
when hunger drove him out to the lake.
He caught glimpse of Jim's yellow curly
foot bali head, and fish hawk that was
soaring by thoughtthe old heron must be
choking, so wide did he open his bill,
and SO fiercely did he flap his mighty
pinions. He was only suppressing an
Involuntary squawk of exultation.
The next day Jim was sitting on the
ground in front Of the camp sewing some
canvas for a sail for his boat. Suddenly
shadow passed over the sunlit ground,
and the top Of big pine at the water
edge bent beneath the weight OF giant
bird
"The heron, Jim, the heronP' called
grandfather from the piazza. Jim's rush
for the gun was SO much like a young
cyclone just let loose, and SO much Of
needle and string and canvas and bad
words were consequently mixed up with
the unfortunate companion who had been
sewing the sail with Jim, that the old
heron actually fell off his perch from in
ward laughter, and had to take wing
much sooner than he intended. In fact
he was something more than just out Of
range when Jim appeared all ready to
blaze away. The next day, Jim went
on the war path and the writer was his
companion and oarsman Of the boat The
heron was soon visible among the reeds
and PUSHES looking as wild and shy, as II
he had never seen Jim, or any man be-
fore.
Jim was put ashore and the old game
was begun again. Three times the heron