THE ISLAND OF THE DEAD 



where lighthouse-keepers went insane from soHtude, 

 and where wonderful fishes inhabited the lagoons. 

 That was enough for me. Forthwith I meant to 

 go to Alacranes. 



Further inquiry brought me meager but fascinat- 

 ing news of an island on that lonely coral reef, 

 called Isla de la Muerte (the Island of the Dead). 

 Here was the haunt of a strange bird, called by 

 Indians rabihorcado, and it was said to live off the 

 booby, another strange sea-bird. The natives of 

 the coast solemnly averred that when the rabi- 

 horcado could not steal fish from the booby he killed 

 himself by hanging in the brush. I did not believe 

 such talk. The Spanish appeared to be rabi, mean- 

 ing rabies, and horcar, to hang. 



I set about to charter a boat, and found the great 

 diflficulty in procuring one to be with the Yucatecan 

 government. No traveler had ever before done such 

 a thing. It excited suspicion. The officials thought 

 the United States was looking for a coaling-station. 

 Finally, through the help of the Ward line agent and 

 the consul I prevailed upon them to give me such 

 papers as appeared necessary. Then my Indian 

 boatnien interested a crew of six, and I chartered a 

 two-masted canoe-shaped bark called the Xpit. 



The crew of the Hispaniola, with the never-to-be- 

 forgotten John Silver and the rest of the pirates of 

 Treasure Island, could not have been a more vil- 

 lainous and piratical gang than this of the bark 

 Xpit. I was advised not to take the trip alone. 

 But it appeared impossible to find any one to ac- 

 company me. I grew worried, yet determined not 

 to miss the opportunity. 



9 



