376 Bailey, Notes on Birds of Western Mexico. [oct k 



we made port in about eight hours, stopping on the way to look 

 over a large white rock called Piedra Blanca, in hope of finding 

 some birds breeding there. But in this we were disappointed, 

 as the fishermen were constantly visiting the rock, and while the 

 birds roosted there, none were found breeding. 



On my arrival at San Bias I was met by the Capatas of the 

 rancho, who informed me that Mr. Bryant had been very ill ever 

 since my departure, and begging me to come over to the rancho at 

 once, which I did. On arriving at the house, I found him in quite 

 bad shape. As he had had little nourishing food proper for a sick 

 man for some seven days, I at once killed some Chachalacas and 

 doves to make soup of. The next nine days were spent attending 

 to Mr. Bryant's wants, blowing eggs, and collecting a few birds, 

 and on the 21st of April, after packing up his belongings I managed 

 to get him aboard the steamer bound for San Francisco. From 

 this time on to the 3d of May, a few specimens were collected 

 around San Bias during spare time, and on the afternoon of that 

 date I came down with a bad attack of fever, called "colentura" 

 in that section. This laid me up for nearly ten days. On the 

 17th I caught the steamer for San Francisco. The following day 

 was spent at Mazatlan, and eight days later I arrived off the 

 quarantine station in San Francisco Bay. At this season of the 

 year extra precautions were being taken to guard against yellow 

 fever from the south, and after a rigid inspection I failed to pass 

 and was not allowed to land, being sent to the quarantine station 

 at Angel Island. After remaining here until the authorities were 

 satisfied that I would not come down with yellow fever or any 

 other contagious disease, I was allowed to depart and was sent 

 over to the city by a tug. On the way to the hotel I learned of 

 the death of my friend Mr. Bryant, this being the first news I 

 had heard of him since bidding him good- by at San Bias. Poor 

 Bryant! He was a devoted ornithologist, and well do I remember 

 his last words to me as we parted on the ship: "Bailey, we will 

 get a whack at the hummers down here yet." 



Thus ended my trip, which was rather successful in a business 

 way and, even counting hardships and mishaps, was enjoyable, 

 and added many fine specimens of birds, eggs, and a few mammals 

 and insects to my collection. 



