12 AUDUBON, THE NATURALIST 



I had landed on some one of those fairy islands said to 

 have existed in the golden age. But this was not all ; the owner 

 of this hospitable mansion pressed me to stay a month with him, 

 and subscribed to my Birds of America in the most gentle- 

 manly manner. This was T. B. K., Esq.^ But the wind 

 shifted; I was sent for, and our voyage to St. Augustine re- 

 sumed. 



St. Augustine, whatever it may have been, is far from be- 

 ing a flourishing place now. It lies at the bottom of a bay, 

 extremely difficult of access, even for vessels of light draft, 

 which seldom reach the "city" in less than a day. I cannot say 

 much for the market, nor for the circumjacent country. 

 Oranges and plenty of good fish seem to contribute the wealth 

 of the place. Sands, poor pine forests, and impenetrable thick- 

 ets of cactus and palmettos form the undergrowth. Birds are 

 rare, and very shy ; and with all our exertions, we have not 

 collected one hundred skins in a fortnight that we have been 

 here. I have received many kind attentions, and numerous 

 invitations to visit plantations, on our way to the south, where I 

 shall direct my steps in a few days. I have drawn seventeen 

 species, among which one mongrel vulture, which I think will 

 prove new. You will see it, I hope, very soon. 



I will give you a sketch of our manner of passing the time. 

 We are up before day, and our toilette is soon made. If 

 the day is to be spent at drawing, Lehman and I take a walk, 

 and Ward, his gun, dog, and basket, returning when hungry 

 or fatigued, or both. We draw uninterruptedly till dusk, 

 after which, another walk, then write up journals, and retire to 

 rest early. When we have nothing on hand to draw, the guns 

 are cleaned over night, a basket of bread and cheese, a bottle 

 with old whiskey, and some water, is prepared. We get into 

 a boat, and after an hour of hard rowing, we find ourselves in 

 the middle of most extensive marshes, as far as the eye can 

 reach. The boat is anchored, and we go wading through 

 mud and water, amid myriads of sand-flies and mosquitoes, 



"Thomas Butler King, of St. Simon's Island, Georgia. 



