82 
WILD WINGS 
sure I could never have found my way out of that swamp, 
even after being’ conducted in. The leads oft into the jungle, 
and from lake to lake, were as blind as though no human 
being had ever traversed them. When we had fought our 
way out to the sea, and had put sail on our boat, I was thank¬ 
ful. There was a head wind, and I beat the craft homeward, 
while the guide —poor, faithful fellow —slept off his headache 
and nausea. 
It was one A. M, before our journey was over, and tired 
enough we were. None but thorough-going enthusiasts 
should, or probably would, venture upon such a trip as that 
to the Cuthbert Rookery. It was about the most arduous 
thing I have ever attempted, but I would not have missed 
it for a good deal. Think of staying on a two-acre islet in 
a wilderness lake amid six thousand splendid breeding birds ! 
I may dream of it with exultation when, in a degenerate day, 
the Florida rookeries are, like the buffalo herds and the Great 
Auk, but memories of the past. 
-A 
ONE OF THESE FISH CROWS KEPT HOVER¬ 
ING CLOSE AROUND ME ” 
