... To sea, bound JOT an unknown island, and to 

 seek tor buried treasures*. 



R. L. STEVENSON * 



IX * I learn of flamingos and hurricanes 



Our continued failure to find the whooping crane's breeding 

 grounds in 1946 and 1947, and again, after such high hopes, in 

 1948 had been, collectively, a bitter blow. Along with many 

 others, I had put a lot into it, both physically and emotionally, 

 and taken nothing out but disappointment and frustration. Nor 

 had it helped matters much when, in November, 1947, I came 

 down with tularemia, as a result of handling an infected jack 

 rabbit that was being used as crab bait during our studies of those 

 important crustaceans in the Aransas wintering ponds. The new 

 streptomycin drug helped greatly, but it took many weeks to get 

 my strength back. The blank that we drew at the end of our 1948 

 search had added even more fuel to the smoldering fires of my 

 general distress. 



Back at home in Florida I had begun work on a monograph 

 of Grus americana, a tough enough job under the best of circum- 

 stances, and even before this chore was completed I started putting 

 * Treasure Island. 

 135 



