AMONG THE FLORIDA KEYS 
25 
a group of small ones, marked on the coast-chart as the 
“ Bow-leg Keys,” I should think some eight miles north of 
Indian Key, when the guide found it necessary to run the 
vessel through a very narrow channel, to reach some open 
water beyond. He had vainly tried to hurry us from Indian 
Key, as the tide was falling, and he was not to blame when, 
though in mid-channel, the schooner ran hard aground. 
Despite the liability of meeting sharks, we all stripped and 
jumped overboard, and braced our backs against her sides 
and stern. Every moment the tide was falling, and it seemed 
destined that the precious light of April 25 should be lost 
idly upon a soap-hat. 
I confess to feeling rather e.xasperated for a few moments, 
until, with my held-glass, taking in our surroundings, I no¬ 
ticed a great swarm of large birds of some sort hovering over 
and beyond the nearest key. The day’s work was now laid 
out for us. Launching the tender, we rowed as near the key 
as we could, then dragged the craft over the tenacious white 
“soap” the rest of the way. 
On the first island were found no birds save a score or 
more of Louisiana Herons that were nesting, and a pair of 
Red-bellied W’^oodpeckers, which had a nest in a hole in a 
dead limb of a black mangrove. It was the next island, half 
a mile beyond, over which the cloud of birds were hovering 
and alighting, as we could now see. So we pushed along 
over the “ soap,” until, as we neared the island, I waded on 
ahead, camera in hand, for a snap-shot. As I came around 
one end of the island, there was consternation among the 
inhabitants, and a confused flapping of great wings was seen 
and heard, beating the tree-tops and the air. Two or three hun¬ 
dred, probably, rose, though many were out of sight farther 
around the island when I made my snap-shot. There were 
Brown Pelicans, Florida Cormorants, and Man-o’-\Var Birds. 
