:::::::::*; TWO BIRD -LOVERS IN MEXICO i*::::::::: 



throwing into black relief the Florida Cormorants 

 and Frigate-birds which make these buoys their roost. 

 Alligator Light at last with measured winks gleamed 

 at us from out the darkness, and the warm tropical 

 night wind made of snow and winter but a fading 

 memory. 



Early in April, when we returned through these 

 waters, we encountered a terrific storm of wind and 

 rain when about one hundred miles east of Jackson- 

 ville. Just before the first squall reached us, a male 

 Hooded Warbler in full plumage dashed to the 

 steamer's rail, balanced a moment, and hid in one of 

 the life-boats. Five seconds more and the raging 

 wind would have hurled the little creature into the 

 waves. 



Our first view of Cuba was not an especially roman- 

 tic one, all that was distinguishable in the early morn- 

 ing dusk being the brightly lighted trolley cars moving 

 swiftly along the shore. Later, when we approached 

 the land and the sun rose, we came under the spell 

 of the full beauty of Havana's harbour. Morro and 

 Punta passed grev aiul sombre, the white spray of 

 the sea thrown high at their base. Then appeared the 

 white, glistening city, crowding close to the water's 

 edge, its landward boundary lost in a setting of em- 

 erald hills. We dropped anchor near the bewreathed 

 fighting-tops of the historical Maine, and hastened on 

 shore in a rolypoly " bum-boat." 

 «4 6 ^ 



