THE GREAT CUTHBERT ROOKERY 8i 



made its visit. This would sum up about three thousand 

 nests or six thousand birds. 



This account is a summary of my observations during 

 the time of our stay, from Tuesday to Thursday afternoons, 

 May 12 to 14. In some ways it was the most enjoyable 

 and exciting two days of my life, even though I had not yet 

 got back to full physical condition. But the mosquitoes in 

 these swamps are something dreadful. I managed to endure 

 their unceasing attacks as I photographed, but I found that 

 changing sixty plates, of two sizes, dusting and refilling the 

 holders, out in the open swamp in the dark, was an ordeal 

 in which I almost lost my nerve. The insects were so numer- 

 ous I could not avoid mashing some of them between the 

 films in packing the plates. 



We spread our blankets among the mangrove roots in as 

 dry a spot as we could find, hung our nets between the trees, 

 and camped out in the fullest sense, without tent or other 

 shelter. When we came in from the rookery, the guide built 

 a smudge and cooked supper, while I donned a screen-hat 

 and gloves and tried to get a few moments' peace. After 

 supper it soon became dark enough to change plates, and 

 later I joined the guide under the net, by the smudge, and 

 tried to sleep. The first night was showery, and as I lay there, 

 many a mile from another human being, half sick to begin 

 with, feeling the rain splashing in my face, listening to the 

 roaring hum of the insect scourge around the net, and the 

 occasional scream of some wild animal, perhaps a panther, 

 off in the swamp, I felt — as my guide on the Western prai- 

 ries once expressed himself under similar conditions — that it 

 would not take much more to make one homesick ! 



On Thursday morning the guide awoke ill with a bilious 

 attack. So I finished up my work during the morning, and 

 after dinner started back for camp. Without the guide I am 



