n:::::::C TWO BIRD- LOVERS IN MEXICO B:-""- 



oft' toward the lake. To the left were what appeared 

 like great patches of white sand or snow, and we 

 galloped our horses toward these. Soon the patches 

 enlarged, changed their relative positions, and began 

 to ascend, and we realized that we were looking at enor- 

 mous flocks of Snow Geese taking to wing, — one of 

 the most beautiful sights in the world of birds. Reluc- 

 tantly we turned backward by a new route — a short 

 cut to the town. 



But Chapala honours us with a final farewell. The 

 sun is sinking in a cloudless sky, a wind rises from 

 somewhere, ruftles the face of the pools and brings the 

 scent of the marsh blooms to us. A small flock of 

 White-fronted Geese passes rapidly overhead, not very 

 high up, when all at once there floats into view cloud 

 after cloud of purest white, stained on one edge by 

 the gold of the setting sun. We dismount and look 

 up until our bodies ache, and still they come, silently 

 driving into the darkening north. The great impera- 

 tive call of the year has sounded ; the drawing which 

 brooks no refusal. 



Our letters from the North tell of snow and blizzards 

 — the most terrible winter for many years. No hint 

 of spring has yet been felt there, while here in the 

 tropics no frost or snow has come through the winter, 

 food is abundant, hunters few ; yet a summons has 

 pulsed through the finer arteries of Nature, intangible 

 to us, omnipotent to the birds. Until dark, and no 



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