Talking of the ibis, he said, reminded him of an
adventure he had met with while in pursuit of these birds among the
swamps of his native state. He would relate it to us. Of course we were
rejoiced at the proposal. We were just the audience for an "adventure,"
and after rolling a fresh cigarette, the botanist began his narration.
"During one of my college vacations I made a botanical excursion to
the south-western part of Louisiana. Before leaving home I had
promised a dear friend to bring him the skins of such rare birds as were
known to frequent the swampy region I was about to traverse, but he
was especially desirous I should obtain for him some specimens of the
red ibis, which he intended to have `mounted.' I gave my word that no
opportunity should be lost of obtaining these birds, and I was very
anxious to make good my promise.
"The southern part of the State of Louisiana is one vast labyrinth of
swamps, bayous, and lagoons. The bayous are sluggish streams that
glide sleepily along, sometimes running one way, and sometimes the
very opposite, according to the season of the year. Many of them are
outlets of the Mississippi, which begins to shed off its waters more than
300 miles from its mouth. These bayous are deep, sometimes narrow,
sometimes wide, with islets in their midst. They and their contiguous
swamps are the great habitat of the alligator and the fresh-water
shark--the gar. Numerous species of water and wading fowl fly over
them, and plunge through their dark tide. Here you may see the red
flamingo, the egret, the trumpeter-swan, the blue heron, the wild goose,
the crane, the snake-bird, the pelican, and the ibis; you may likewise
see the osprey, and the white-headed eagle robbing him of his prey.
Both swamps and bayous produce abundantly fish, reptile, and insect,
and are, consequently, the favourite resort of hundreds of birds which
prey upon these creatures. In some places, their waters form a complete
net-work over the country, which you may traverse with a small boat in
almost any direction; indeed, this is the means by which many
settlements communicate with each other. As you approach southward
towards the Gulf, you get clear of the timber; and within some fifty
miles of the sea, there is not a tree to be seen.
"In the first day or two that I was out, I had succeeded in getting all the
specimens I wanted, with the exception of the ibis. This shy creature
avoided me; in fact I had only seen one or two in my excursions, and
these at a great distance. I still, however, had hopes of finding them
before my return to my friend.
"About the third or fourth day I set out from a small settlement on the
edge of one of the larger bayous. I had no other company than my gun.
I was even unattended by a dog, as my favourite spaniel had the day
before been bitten by an alligator while swimming across the bayou,
and I was compelled to leave him at the settlement. Of course the
object of my excursion was a search after new flora, but I had become
by this time very desirous of getting the rare ibis, and I was determined
half to neglect my botanising for that purpose. I went of course in a
boat, a light skiff, such as is commonly used by the inhabitants of these
parts.
"Occasionally using the paddles, I allowed myself to float some four or
live miles down the main bayou; but as the birds I was in search of did
not appear, I struck into a `branch,' and sculled myself up-stream. This
carried me through a solitary region, with marshes stretching as far as
the eye could see, covered with tall reeds. There was no habitation, nor
aught that betokened the presence of man. It was just possible that I
was the first human being who had ever found a motive for propelling a
boat through the dark waters of this solitary stream.
"As I advanced, I fell in with game; and I succeeded in bagging several,
both of the great wood-ibis and the white species. I also shot a fine
white-headed eagle (Falco leucocephalus), which came soaring over
my boat, unconscious of danger. But the bird which I most wanted
seemed that which could not be obtained. I wanted the scarlet ibis.
"I think I had rowed some three miles up-stream, and was about to take
in my oars and leave my boat to float back again, when I perceived that,
a little farther up, the bayou widened. Curiosity prompted me to
continue; and after pulling a few hundred strokes, I found myself at the
end of an
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