WALKS ABOUT TALLAHASSEE. 229 
about, —a slow and ticklish operation, — 
so that its back was presented to the sun; 
as if it had dried one side of its wings and 
tail,—for the latter, too, was fully spread, 
—and now would dry the other. There for 
some time it sat preening its feathers, with 
monstrous twistings and untwistings of its 
snaky neck. If the chat is a clown, the wa- 
ter turkey would make its fortune as a con- 
tortionist. Finally it rose, circled about till 
it got well aloft, and then, setting its wings, 
sailed away southward and vanished, leav- 
ing me in a state of wonder as to where it 
had come from, and whether it was often to 
be seen in such a place — perfectly open, 
close beside the highway, and not far from 
houses. I did not expect ever to see an- 
other, but the next morning, on my way up 
the railroad to pay a second visit to the 
ivory-bill’s swamp, I looked up by chance, 
—a brown thrush was singing on the tele- 
graph wire, — and saw two anhingas soaring 
overhead, their silvery wings glistening in 
the sun as they wheeled. I kept my glass 
on them till the distance swallowed them up. 
Of one long forenoon’s ramble I retain 
particular remembrance, not on account of 
