THE MUSEUM. 



53 



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Carolina or Sora Rail (Rarzana Carolina) in their natural haunts. 



his kindness we were able to go 

 through intelligently and without 

 trouble. 



If the reader consults a map he will 

 find our entrance. The Madison 

 River, coming out of the Park, makes 

 a passage way in. This is on the west 

 side, near the southern line. It is one 

 of the three places of entrance. The 

 Beaver Canon road joins the one over 

 which we came at Henry Lake, and 

 enters at Riverside. Another entrance 

 is on the south via the Tetons, and the 

 third is on the north via Mammoth 

 Hot Springs. 



In entering we may take the canon 

 and ford the river seven or eight times, 

 or climb the mountain, which they call 

 a hill, for 12 miles an up hill pull, and 

 an abominable road. We chose the 

 latter in '94, the former in '95. It 

 was about half-past four when we 

 reached the summit. What a sight! 

 Lower Geyser Basin, Firehole River, 

 the soldiers' quarters and grounds, the 

 Fountain Hotel, a grand panorama, at 

 once burst upon the view. The geyser 

 steam spreads in a white cloud against 

 the dark background of pines. We 



see a great white-floored basin with a 

 silvery thread running through i:. Our 

 goal is all but reached. On the mor- 

 row we will mvestigate. 



Collecting in a Florida Swamp. 



Newmans Lake, a beautiful sheet of 

 water, ten miles long by six wide, lies 

 in all its quietude, surrounded by 

 groves of orange and cypress trees, a 

 distance of six miles from Gainesville, 

 and the road leading to it is one of 

 beauty and loneliness. About a mile 

 inland from the lake are several small 

 cypress ponds, not more than two feet 

 deep, and it is here that the heron 

 finds its home. 



Accordingly, i^about dawn on April 

 20th last, a friend whom I will call 

 Mac, and I started out to this place on 

 a collecting tour. The morning was 

 clear and pleasant, and everything was 

 fresh and beautiful. Leaving the. city, 

 we enter an immense hammock of oak 

 and hickory, with the picturesque 

 Spanish moss hanging from their 

 branches in long silken trains, and 

 from which now and then may be seen 

 a squirrel's head peeping at us and ap- 



