Song Birds and Water Fowl 



centre of the island, as one approaches the cliffs 

 fronting the ocean, I found an equal profusion 

 of some leguminous plant whose abundant red, 

 white and purple blossoms would pass, at a dis- 

 tance, for sweet peas. From the base of the 

 cliff the beach sloped for two or three hundred 

 feet down to the water, and for miles east and 

 west this broad expanse was without a sign of 

 animation, save a pair of king-bitds fluttering 

 about. I then attempted to reach the opposite 

 shore of the narrow island, but was soon con- 

 fronted by an impenetrable mass of the densest 

 prickly undergrowth and sullen pines. The 

 original curse of thorns certainly struck this par- 

 ticular point of the earth's surface with tremen- 

 dous force. Land birds were numerous — the 

 Maryland yellow-throat, looking painfully out 

 of place, the sharp-tailed finch and song spar- 

 row, with red-winged blackbirds galore, but no 

 water fowl except one sandpiper and a single 

 green heron, that saw me the instant I saw him, 

 and vanished into the bushes. Not a glimpse 

 could I get of the little white heron, on whose 

 account alone I had made the trip. I had intended 

 to spend the night on the island, and continue 

 the exploration on the following day ; but the 

 effect of all my surroundings caused a desperate 

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