130 CAMP FIRE REMINISCENCES 
of clutches, presenting nearly every variety of 
marking, but in each case the distribution of the 
spots was equal over every part of the egg. After- 
noon tea was ready when we returned to the boat 
where we held another consultation. Between 
Fremont Island and the mouth of the Weber River, 
we looked up into Bear River Bay, that most won- 
derful resort of ducks and other water fowl, but 
the mouth of Bear River, with its mud banks, was 
no place for a huge craft like the Cambria. To the 
west of us ran the great bridge of the Southern 
Pacific Railway. We could see the smoke of the 
engines crossing it, and it shut us off from several 
little islands lying beyond, so there was only one 
thing for us to do and that was to cross the lake 
to Hat Island, the summer home of a colony of 
American white pelican (P. erythrorhynchus) and 
to see what they were about. We knew that it was 
a passage of some thirty miles, more or less, and 
a nasty place in bad weather. Some one, for ex- 
ercise, cranked the engine and off it went. The 
sails flapped idly, as there was no wind to fill them, 
and the boat cut her way at a rapid rate through 
the smooth blue water. 
A few hours later, the top of Hat Island became 
visible, and we soon ran up to it. The water 
about the island is very shallow, so we anchored 
a considerable distance off and took the punt in to 
a rude stone pier. This had been constructed by 
some speculative persons, who conceived the idea 
of shipping guano from the island, but the indus- 
try appears to have come to an end. Hat Island, 
