THE GREAT CUTHBERT ROOKERY 8i 
made its visit. This would sum up about three thousand 
nests or six thousand birds. 
This account is a summary of my observations during 
the time of our stay, from Tuesday to Thursday afternoons, 
May 12 to 14. In some ways it was the most enjoyable 
and exciting two days of my life, even though I had not yet 
got back to full physical condition. But the mosquitoes in 
these swamps are something dreadful. I managed to endure 
their unceasing attacks as I photographed, but I found that 
changing sixty plates, of two sizes, dusting and refilling the 
holders, out in the open swamp in the dark, was an ordeal 
in which I almost lost my nerve. The insects were so numer¬ 
ous I could not avoid mashing some of them between the 
films in packing the plates. 
We spread our blankets among the mangrove roots in as 
dry a spot as we could find, hung our nets between the trees, 
and camped out in the fullest sense, without tent or other 
shelter. When we came in from the rookery, the guide built 
a smudge and cooked supper, while I donned a screen-hat 
and gloves and tried to get a few moments’ peace. After 
supper it soon became dark enough to change plates, and 
later I joined the guide under the net, by the smudge, and 
tried to sleep. The first night was showery, and as I lay there, 
many a mile from another human being, half sick to begin 
with, feeling the rain splashing in my face, listening to the 
roaring hum of the insect scourge around the net, and the 
occasional scream of some wild animal, perhaps a panther, 
off in the swamp, I felt — as my guide on the Western prai¬ 
ries once expressed himself under similar conditions — that it 
would not take much more to make one homesick! 
On Thursday morning the guide awoke ill with a bilious 
attack. So I finished up my work during the morning, and 
after dinner started back for camp. Without the guide I am 
