a Swamp Beauts 



sharpen the point of every nerve, making 

 the brain open itself, so that the moment 

 becomes a datum point, the beginning 

 of a new reckoning. Doubtless I carried 

 with me all the rest of the day an echo of 

 those vibrating scales and a strjuige im- 

 pression of my narrow escape from those 

 shining fangs. The adventure may have 

 been strictly appropriate as a preface to 

 what followed; for it turned out that I 

 was to pass from snake to snake-bird — not 

 a very great step, considering Huxley's 

 discovery of the close kinship between 

 reptiles and birds; and besides, a Plotus 

 anhinga had just dropped off a cypress 

 knee into the coffee-colored water of a 

 little creek fifty yards away. 



Upon general principles one would sup- 

 pose that when a bird lets go its hold and 

 falls perpendicularly from its perch to the 

 water, it is sure to be found swimming on 

 the surface; but this rule will not apply 

 to Plotus — the snake-bird — even under 

 most favorable circumstances. As its 

 name — irXoaTOi; — implies, it is a great 

 swimmer; but it prefers being under the 

 '3 193 



