A HUNT FOR HOATZINS 97 



At first we passed close to the sea, and this 

 was the most exciting part of the trip. In 

 places the dikes had given way and the tur- 

 bulent muddy waters had swept inland over 

 rice and cane-fields, submerging in one impla- 

 cable tide the labor of years. A new dike, of 

 mud and timbers and sweet-smelling hurdles of 

 black sage, had been erected at the roadside, 

 and past this went all traffic. Now and then 

 an automobile had to slow up until a great 

 wave broke, and then dash at full speed across 

 the danger-spot. In spite of the swiftness, the 

 wind-flung spray of the next wave would drench 

 the occupants. The lowering sea-water glistened 

 among the sickly plants, and strange fish trou- 

 bled the salty pools as they sought uneasily for 

 an outlet to the ocean. A flock of skimmers 

 looked wholly out of place driving past a clump 

 of bamboos. 



Then the roadbed shifted inland, and lines 

 of patient, humped zebus trailed slowly from 

 their sheds sheds of larger size and better built 

 than the huts of their owners. These open- 

 work homes were picturesque and unobtrusive; 

 they fitted into the landscape as if, like the 

 palms, they had come into being through years 



