138 On the trail of vanishing birds 



American Ornithologists' Union in Minneapolis literally writhing 

 with pain, and came home to Florida a very wretched man. When 

 I could get to a doctor I learned the unhappy truth : I was suffering 

 from Strumpell-Marie disease rheumatoid spondylitis an arth- 

 ritic condition resulting in large part, perhaps, from a deficiency 

 in the adrenal gland. A heavy layer of calcium had been forming 

 over the ligaments about my spine, and the pain came chiefly 

 from pressure on major nerves. 



I came home and tried not to think of the possibility that I 

 would be a bedridden cripple, perhaps for many years. There 

 seemed little hope of anything else. For three or four years, I was 

 told, the pain would be a constant, twenty-four-hour tenant. Then 

 the spine would be completely calcified and gradually the pain 

 would be relieved. But by that time I would be bent over in worse 

 shape than Old Black Joe. Meanwhile I could take about thirty 

 aspirin tablets a day and try to be cheerful. What a prospect! Corti- 

 sone was just coming on the market in 1950 and before the year was 

 out I was subjected, somewhat experimentally, to large doses. 

 This was before cortisone was synthesized, and it was expensive 

 and difficult to obtain. Fortunately, I proved to be one of those 

 lucky people who can take cortisone without injurious side effects, 

 and the results were miraculous. In less than a month I was on 

 my feet and, although still pretty stiff, I was able to search for 

 ivory-bills in the Apalachicola River swamps with Jim Tanner. 

 By March I was well enough to join Steve and Bea Briggs on our 

 first trip to the flamingo colony at Inagua, a visit that is described 

 in another chapter. And then, in May, as the next step in our 

 new investigation, I journeyed once more to the Bahamas, this 

 time alone, so as to undertake a thorough search of the old fla- 

 mingo nesting grounds on Andros Island. 



In Nassau, with the help of Elgin Forsyth, I made arrangements 

 to charter the twenty-one-foot sloop Alert, along with the services 

 of her builder, owner, and skipper, an Andros native named Mc- 

 Phee, and his sometime mate, cook, and jack-before-the-mast, 

 Herby. McPhee was recommended to me as a leading citizen in 

 the Negro settlement at Mangrove Cay, Andros. He was said to 

 be a man of parts and an excellent seaman. I liked him from the 



