142 ON THE UPPER ST. JOHN'S. 



it got there, I have no idea. Our first bird 

 kept his bill parted, as if in distress; a 

 peculiar action, which probably had some 

 connection with the other bird's presence, 

 although the two paid no attention to each 

 other so far as we could make out. When 

 we had watched them as long as we pleased, 

 I told the boy to pull the boat forward till 

 they rose. We got within thirty feet, I 

 think. At that point they took flight, and, 

 side by side, went soaring into the air, now 

 flapping their wings, now scaling in unison. 

 It was beautiful to see. As they sat in the 

 willows and gazed about, their long necks 

 were sometimes twisted like corkscrews, 

 or so they looked, at all events. 



The water-turkey is one of the very odd- 

 est of birds. I am not likely to forget the 

 impression made upon me by the first one 

 I saw. It was standing on a prostrate log, 

 but rose, as I drew near, and, to my surprise, 

 mounted to a prodigious elevation, where 

 for a long time it remained, sailing round 

 and round with all the grace of a hen-hawk 

 or an eagle. Its neck and head were tenu- 

 ous almost beyond belief, like a knitting- 

 needle, I kept repeating to myself. Its tail, 



