CITIES OF THE BROWN PELICANS 
3 
night the curious “ Chuck-Will’s-Widow ” and the Florida 
Screech Owl put in their contemplative refrains. For the first 
few days we almost wilted under the eighty-five degrees of 
temperature, Fahrenheit, but soon got ourselves in good form 
for hard tramps and various adventures. 
On the morning of the sixteenth, after waiting for the 
regular sea-breeze to arise, we were making a slow start for 
Pelican Island, twelve miles farther down the river. Within 
forty minutes the expected breeze began to spring up fair from 
the north-northeast, and we scudded along, rejoicing in the 
delightful conditions and surroundings. The mullets were 
leaping, as usual. Scaup Ducks and Scoters flew up before 
us, while Bald Eagles soared and Ospreys plied their fishing 
amid lavish abundance, flying with their prey to the tropical- 
looking shores lined with palms and mangroves. By ten 
o’clock we began to see lines of great pelicans with slow, 
measured flight coming in from the ocean and flying down¬ 
stream past us, and before eleven o’clock the guide pointed 
out Pelican Island. 
No tremendous cliffs were there, as at Bird Rock, in the 
Gulf of St. Lawrence. Indeed, until we had come quite close, 
it was hard to distinguish this small low island from the neigh¬ 
boring shore, not half a mile away, with its jungle of palms 
and mangroves. Then we could see many beating wings, 
and, with our field-glasses, a great crowd of birds upon the 
ground — the Brown Pelicans upon their nests. With eager 
anticipation we made ready our battery of cameras for the 
bloodless fray, casting anxious glances at the heavy cumulus 
clouds which threatened to spoil the light at the critical mo¬ 
ment. And now we were close enough to take in the whole 
situation. Here was the low, flat islet of only about three 
acres, somewhat triangular in form. A very few small palmet¬ 
tos and low mangrove trees and stumps were standing, but 
