144 THE STORY OF A BIRD LOVER 



the remaining days' and nights' journey on the 

 river fully confirmed the impression of the first 

 few miles. 



There was little or no bird life of any kind, and 

 such as occurred was confined almost entirely to 

 small, inconspicuous land-species. Now and then 

 a frightened heron would fly croaking away as 

 the boat turned some bend in the river, or a water- 

 turkey would drop scared from his perch into the 

 water, diving to escape further notice. No groups 

 of ibises, no flocks of paroquets, no droves of 

 wild turkeys, enlivened either the trees or shores. 

 Only one or two alligators were seen, and but a 

 glimpse of these was obtained as they hastily 

 sought the water when the steamer was afar off. 

 Such conditions had resulted from the almost 

 universal practice of the passengers on these 

 steamers of shooting at everything alive. It had 

 taken only four seasons to drive away from one of 

 the most crowded bird districts it has ever been 

 my fortune to see almost its entire avian popula- 

 tion, certainly its most conspicuous elements. 



Inquiry among the crew of the boat who 

 were accustomed to make the passage frequently — 

 once or twice a week — revealed all this, and 

 while they deplored it, they were disposed to 

 blame the birds and other animals that were 

 frightened away, rather than to censure the travel- 

 lers who had produced this lamentable end. The 



