::::::::3E THE MARSHES OF CHAPALA :p;::::::: 



a distant glimpse of a few of the great birds is all that 

 may be hoped for in a flying visit. 



To-day our horses were headed for the flooded 

 marshes east of the lake, and, leaving the stream with 

 its green borders, we rode on through the chaparral 

 thickets. Brown Towhees and Curve-billed Thrashers 

 springing up at every step. Beyond a distant line of 

 willows, our guide promised us " muchos j^^j^^i^'os de 

 agua,'' but there was no hint of changing conditions 

 until we left La Barca far behind. 



Few hunters thought of looking for sport elsewhere 

 than on the waters of the lake itself, and so we were 

 not surprised to find the birds tame and unconcerned at 

 our presence. Little streams appeared, with coots and 

 handsome little Scaup Ducks floating on their quiet 

 surface, and sandpipers teetering along the muddy 

 banks. At last we leaped two ditches, the guide lead- 

 ing the way through an opening in the willow tangle, 

 and we found ourselves at the edge of the marshes, 

 a vast plain, half dry, half flooded, broken here and 

 there by patches of tall reeds, a great land expanse 

 stretching mile upon mile to the lake toward the south- 

 west and to the barren mountains rising hazy and blue 

 in the east. 



At another time and place we have seen thousands 

 of pelicans close together on a tiny islet ; again, ducks 

 have surrounded us in such masses that we seemed 

 floating in a sea of birds ; but all our remembrances 



«4 113 ^ 



