203 The flamingo quadrille 



like a hysterical and leaderless mob. Tightly packed as they were, 

 and with every individual jostling his neighbor and all of them 

 jumping about like madmen, the outlines of the flock ebbed and 

 flowed, as if it were molten, red-hot lava. Here and there we 

 could see taller, redder heads and necks of the older male birds, 

 riding high above the crowd and bickering with other birds close 

 to them in what appeared to be a frenzy of emotion. These out- 

 breaks rose to a fever pitch and then abruptly subsided. It seemed 

 to be these larger flamingos that set up pressure, first to one side 

 then to the other, so as to keep the entire flock churning about so 

 furiously. 



From so close at hand the din was frightful, every kind of fla- 

 mingo sound honks, cackles, groans, high froglike notes issuing 

 forth in one grand, overwhelming chorus from more than a thou- 

 sand throats at once and without end. We lay there like earth 

 men who had unaccountably fallen upon another planet and had 

 come without warning upon a great number of its outlandish in- 

 habitants engaging in a wild ceremonial dance. Which was not so 

 far from actuality at that! I was not only stirred to my depths by 

 the spectacle itself, but I felt at almost a complete loss. Eyes and 

 ears were not enough to take it in. Now the whole body of birds 

 churned still closer to our hiding place, bearing down on us as if 

 the entire flock were a huge, many-legged creature, a thing of 

 cohesive living tissue, fluid and unpredictable. Then it moved off, 

 nearly across the pond from us, swelling and receding, sinuous 

 necks waving and thrusting along its rim and black wingtips flash- 

 ing as if to remind us that, after all, this was only a flock of birds. 



We watched until the sun was high in the heavens, until, at 

 length, the birds appeared to have exhausted themselves or had 

 gradually lost interest and scattered to other parts of the lakes. 

 Only then did we realize how hot it had grown and feel with real 

 discomfort the bites of the maddening little mosquitoes that lay 

 in wait in every shady spot. Aware from what I had seen and from 

 what Sammy told me that nest building had not yet started, I 

 agreed that we should retrace our steps and return to the settle- 

 ment for the time being. 



On that first morning of my first visit to Inagua, we had hap- 



