The Grey Heron has enemies in the Eagle, the Falcon, and the Crows. The latter combine to steal its eggs; the former aim at the Heron itself, its flesh being much to their taste. When the Heron finds itself pursued by a bird of prey, it immediately disencumbers itself of all unnecessary ballast, and then endeavours to get the uppermost in flying; this plan is nearly its only means of safety. Occasionally it succeeds, for the Heron is able to attain immense altitudes. If it is close pressed, it makes an admirable use of its bill as a means of defence, and has been known to impale its adversary. Its usual tactics are, to wait for its enemy, lance in rest, and to allow the latter to pierce himself through, merely by his own impetuosity. If it has a chance to dart its bill into the eye of its foe, it does not neglect so good an opportunity of utilising its small endowments. This is, in fact, a private lunge, a _coup de grâce_, and many a dog, hunting among the reeds, has felt the poignancy of this offensive weapon. We must, however, allow that the Heron is not always so fortunate, and that oftener than not he becomes a prey to his eager adversaries--the Eagle and the Falcon. The magnificent powers of flight possessed by the Heron, and his clever devices in defending himself, gave rise, in days gone by, to the very special regard with which he was honoured by kings and princes, who hunted him with Falcons trained to the sport. The poor Heron was doubtless not very gratified for these marks of high esteem, and it is probable that, if he could be consulted at the present day, he would bless the happy obscurity in which he is now allowed to vegetate. "It costs too much to shine in the world," is the moral La Fontaine puts into the mouth of his Heron. Although its flavour is certainly as disagreeable as possible, the flesh of the Heron was in the old time reckoned as a "royal dish," and was only served upon the tables of the great and powerful of the earth. In order to procure this supposed delicacy more easily, the idea arose of artificially arranging a certain part of the forest so as to attract the unhappy birds into a retreat which should realise all the characteristics of the natural heronry. The birds here enjoyed all the comforts of life up to the moment when they were ruthlessly torn from them at the will and pleasure of their lord. We must add that they adopted the plan of taking from them their progeny to assist the royal treasury; for, as Pierre Belon tells us, "they were in the habit of trading largely in the young ones, which brought considerable sums of money." Francis I. caused heronries to be established at Fontainebleau, which, as connoisseurs tell us, were everything that could be wished.