THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 385 



Why every chick is not snapped up by hungry crocodiles or 

 other aquatic ogres is a mystery. Every morning this and 

 several other bands, all of three, would thread their way 

 across the lagoon to the reeds beyond. 



After breakfast about 8 o'clock, while I was reconnoitering 

 for the best place to begin trapping the Hoatzins, as we 

 wished to take some home alive, tragedy came, sudden and 

 unexpected. A single pitiful cry brought me back to the 

 house in an instant, and there was Milady, who but a 

 moment before had been happily planning with Crandall 

 about preparations for trapping, lying with a broken wrist. 

 A hammock in which she had seated herself for an instant 

 had come untied and given way and it was a miracle that 

 the seven foot drop backward to the ground had resulted 

 in only one broken bone. Game litde lady, her first words 

 were, "Oh! we can't get the Hoatzins"! 



The remainder of that 15th of April will ever be a misty 

 dream in my mind. We bandied no words as to the value 

 of Hoatzins in particular, or the whole world of science in 

 general, versus Milady's hurt, but without confusion quickly 

 organized our plan of action. I had the best corps of helpers 

 one could want; Mr. and Mrs. Vinton, Crandall and Harry. 

 One of us constantly dropped cold water on the injury, 

 another threw together all our belongings; others worked 

 like Trojans to assemble the launch engines, which had been 

 taken apart for cleaning. In two hours we were on the 

 throbbing little boat, passing the Hoatzins and hosts of 

 Ducks with unseeing eyes. 



Then two hours later at the railroad bridge came a quick 

 run to the nearest telegraph office, where a sympathetic, 

 300 pound negro "mammy" presided over the instrument 

 and wept copiously for the "po' lil' lady," while she clicked 

 out an urgent message for a special train. She said "Ah am 

 too sorry for to heah dat bad news, " and when our proces- 



