Posted by Ed Kiser on September 19, 2002 at 15:55:04 from 152.163.188.167 user Kisered.
In Reply to: Re: Ed's magic search engine posted by Duncan on September 19, 2002 at 11:10:36:
Output from MAGIC SEARCH ENGINE
Searching for "HERON"
As usual, the exceptions are:
ML, PD, and GN are not represented here.
Hope this will help you with what you are looking for
Ed Kiser, South Florida
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P53 chapter 4 BS
"I'll fix 'em for you," said the old man. He opened the
keep and looked in. His gnarled old hand darted down
among the eels like a heron's beak. Up it came again with a
wriggling eel. Bang. He had stunned the eel with a blow on
its tail. The next moment he had picked up his knife, jabbed
it into the eel's backbone close behind its head and dropped it
into a bucket.
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P87 Chapter 7 BS
They disturbed a heron at his morning fishing, and heard
his sudden, hoarse "Fraaaaank!" and the steady beat of his
wings as he flew off into the mist.
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P148 Chapter 11 BS
"Is buttle another name for a bittern?" asked Dick and
pulled out his pocket-book.
Joe laughed as he watched him write down "Buttle =
Bittern".
"And Harnsey's a heron," he said, "and Frank's a
heron..."
"Hear him go 'Fraaaank' when you stop his fishing," said
Pete.
Dick took more notes.
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P258 chapter 22 BS
Joe and Bill and
Pete were asking about the birds. Dorothea told them about
the hawk that had tried to get one of the pigeons. "Marsh
harrier likely," said Joe. Dick said, "No. It was a kestrel,"
and told them there were lots of water-hens up there, but no
great flocks of coots, and no spoonbills, but plenty of herons
and kingfishers, and no harriers but buzzards flying round
the crags. "Crags?" said Joe, and Dorothea explained. "What
about beardies?" asked Pete, and on hearing that there were
no bearded tits in the Lake Country said he reckoned they
were better off here.
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P19 chapter 1 CC
"Hullo," said Dick, soon after they passed Salhouse
Station. "There's a heron. What's he doing on that field
where there isn't any water?"
"Frogging," said the strange boy, and then, suddenly,
"Are you interested in birds, too?"
"Yes," said Dick. "But there are lots I've never seen,
because of living mostly in a town."
"You don't collect eggs?" said the boy, looking keenly at
Dick.
"I never have," said Dick.
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p27 chapter 2 CC
Dick was busy with his pocket-book. In the winter holidays
it had been full of stars, but with the year going on and nights
getting shorter, birds had taken the place of stars. Heron,
kestrel, coot, water-hen, he had already added to his list of
birds seen, and just before meeting those racing boats he had
seen a bird with two tufts sticking out from the top of its
head, and only its slim neck showing above the water. He
had known it as once for a crested grebe.
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P67 chapter 5 CC
"And now," said Mrs. Barrable, when they were all in the
well and under cover, including William, who was slowly
changing his mind about Tom, "do tell us what it was all
about. But, of course, you needn't if you don't want to."
"It was birds," said Tom.
"Herons?" broke in Dick, who had spent a lot of time
watching one on the opposite bank during the afternoon.
"Coots," said Tom. "You see, the birds are nesting now,
and when people like that go and shove their boat on top of a
nest anything may happen. And this is our particular coot.
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P74 chapter 6 CC
The sun had gone down. The tide was on the point of
turning, and up-river a calm green-and-golden glow filled
the sky and was reflected on the scarcely moving water. A
heron came flying downstream with long slow flaps of his
great wings. Only twenty yards away he lifted easily over the
tall reeds and settled with a noisy disturbance of twigs on the
top of a tree in a little wood at the edge of the marshes. The
heron had a little difficulty in balancing himself on the thin,
swaying branch, and Tom, watching him, dark against the
glowing sky, very nearly forgot that he, too, had an uncertain
perch. Balancing like this was tiring, too, and, anyhow, Tom
did not want to be standing up when he came to No. 7.
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P209 chapter 18 CC
A little brown heron flew low over the reeds on the Upton
side of the river.
"Isn't it a bittern?" asked Dick. Dorothea was steering and
Dick was free to look at birds.
"It's a bittern all right," said Tom, but just then he was not
interested in bitterns. As he himself had once said of the
Death and Glories, "You can't expect them to be bird
protecting all the time."
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p241 chapter 20 CC
Dick, busy with the binoculars, was looking at
the birds on the mudflats, watching the herons paddling in
the shallows as the water rose, and the gulls, who felt the
place belonged to them, mobbing the herons. Tom, too, was
free to think of birds once more.
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p243 chapter 20 CC
"I say," cried Dick suddenly. "Isn't that a spoonbill, there,
with hunch-up shoulders, and another, dipping in the mud
where that trickle is?... White, like storks."
"They must be," said Tom. "Let's have the glasses a
minute. I've only seen them once before. This goes down in
the Coot club book."
"And in the log," said the Admiral.
"And those are curlews," said Dick. "Aren't they? Or are
they whimbrels?" I say, can't we anchor here and stay the
night?"
-- -- --
The Teasel sailed on up the broad channel of Breydon
Water. The rising tide was spreading farther and farther over
the mudflats on either side. Herons were stalking about
knee-deep far away by the embankment. One rested for a
moment on the top of a red post and then, as the Teasel came
nearer, floated away with steady flaps of its long wings and a
sharp indignant squawk. There was a constant chatter of
quarrelsome gulls, besides the warning calls of the nervous
greenshanks, the long whistling cry of the curlew and the
restless shrilling of the sandpipers.
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P246 chapter 20 CC
"Oh, Admiral!" said Dorothea, who was standing by
while Dick was steering, in case he should see a heron or
some other bird. "Oh, Admiral! Just when she's going so
well."
But the bridge was opening as she spoke.
"I think I can steer her through," said Dick.
"All right," said Tom.
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P326 chapter 28 CC
Slowly the water came licking up over the edge of the
mudflats, little thin waves hurrying over the mud and going
back to meet other little waves that spread wider and wider.
Herons were fishing knee-deep, ready for small fish coming
unsuspectingly up with the tide. With the change of the tide
the fog lifted. Pale sunlight made its way through. The crew
of the Teasel could see far down Breydon to the railway
bridge, and up to the meeting of the rivers at the head of it.
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p56 chapter 4 SD
"There's a fish," said Roger.
"Where?"
"There isn't one now. But there was. Look! Look! There's
another!" But that fish too was gone before the able-seaman had
seen just where the ship's boy was pointing.
"They needn't be frightened," said the able-seaman. "It isn't
as if we were herons. Keep still when you see the next one,
Don't point at it."
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P41 chapter 3 SW
"Keep her as she's going," said Daddy, and went forward
to deal with the anchor. There was the grumble and rattle of
chain being hauled up and ranged on deck. Then Daddy was
busy at the mast. The green banks slipped by. A heron got up
and flapped slowly across the creek. A curlew cried. Daddy
stood up on the foredeck watching the eastern bank, looking
for something. Suddenly he flung out his right arm.
Starboard," he said quietly, and John steered towards the
western bank.
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p105 chapter 9 SW
"She'd make a perfect beauty," said the boy. "She's much
smaller than Daisy and much... well, you know what I
mean. Some people can't help being thin. It doesn't matter
generally but savages stuff their victims like anything. And of
course if we were a different tribe it wouldn't matter...
With Herons for instance, scragginess would be all right...
but the Eels' victim ought to be fat. Of course I should have to
ask the others, but I don't believe Daisy would mind. The
savages would come charging down on the explorers' camp,
pick the plumpest..."
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p1116 chapter 10 SW
The ditch bent round to the right, and forked.
"Right again," said the Mastodon.
His oars almost touched the sides of the ditch as they passed
through a narrow place.
A heron got up from close in front of them. Three wing
flaps took it out of sight.
"I say," said Roger. "Isn't that the dyke?"
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p155 chapter 13 SW
"I'm awfully late," shouted the Mastodon. "Can't stop
another minute. You'll find the best blackberries close to the
heronry."
"Where's the heronry?" called John.
"Those high trees," shouted the Mastodon. "The tops are
full of nests. We very nearly decided to be herons instead of
eels. But Daisy decided eels were best.
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p157 chapter 13 SW
"Look here," said John. "Let's begin. This island looks just
like ours and we'll do it the same way. It looks as if there's a
dyke all round, with marshes outside it and dry ground
inside. That heronry'll be jolly useful, too. We'll be able to see
the tallest of the trees from anywhere."
"Why do you want to see it?" asked Peggy.
"Not to get lost," said Nancy. "But I don't see how you
could on an island."
"It's like this..." said John.
Nancy and Peggy, for once, had something to learn. The
others, now experienced surveyors after their work on
Swallow Island, showed them how to take bearings from that
bamboo to another on another corner, and to the tallest tree
on the heronry which served as a bamboo pole without
having to be planted.
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p157 chapter 13 SW
Their map showed all the really important things. There
was the line of the dyke, with its fringe of saltings. There was
the heronry shown by drawing of trees. Though it was not
the nesting season they had been lucky enough to see a heron
alight on the top of a tree, "backwatering" (Titty's word)
with its wings, as it brought its feet forward to take hold.
Most important of all, there was the old barge, Speedy, resting
in the mud of the narrow channel that divided Mastodon
island from the mainland.
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p158 chapter 13 SW
It had been a successful morning in another way. They had
found a lot of dead wood and sticks under the heronry, and
every stick was worth having in this place where good fuel
was so rare. It was lucky, as Roger pointed out, that the
herons had not wanted them all for their nests.
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p258 chapter 21 SW
They were close behind him, close enough to hear
Roger encouraging him as if he were a horse, when they came
out again into open water, saw Mastodon island ahead of
them and the tall trees of the heronry, and presently had to
lower sails and take to oars to follow him through the
winding western end of Speedy Creek.
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p354 chapter 30 SW
"The point this side of Goblin Creek bears east by south,"
she said firmly. "Very near that anyhow. And the herons'
trees on Mastodon Island are all in a row. Bearing south.
We've got them marked all right. That fixes the gap." She put
a cross to show where they then were, and lines with the
compass bearings on them, one leading to the distant point,
and one to the old heronry.
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P50 chapter 4 WD
On they went. The trees on both banks of the river came
to an end. Green fields sloped down to the water's edge on
one side. On the other, further side, was a sea wall covered
with long grass and green saltings and shining mud
uncovered by the tide. Cormorants were on the edge of the
mud, like black sentinels. A grey heron was wading. A flock
of gulls swung up into the air and round to settle again in
almost the same place. Now that they were clear of the trees,
they had a rather better wind, and the Goblin heeled over, just
a little, enough to make Titty take hold of the coaming that
made a sort of wall round the edge of the cockpit, enough to
make Roger think of doing the same, but stop with hand
outstretched to find that with feet wide apart he could stand
upright without holding on to anything.
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