542 



THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



cal species concerning whose home lives 

 we know as yet little or nothing. Of the 

 88 species recorded by us during the week 

 of our stay, no less than 36 are tropical 

 forms, which are here at, or near, the 

 northern limit of their range. 



This fact in distribution, together with 

 the specimens to confirm it, filled our 

 present wants, and we returned to Tam- 

 pico to continue our reconnaissance in the 

 tropical fauna among the water birds of 

 the Tamiahua lagoon to the southward. 



A canal which had lately been com- 

 pleted from the Panuco River to the 

 northern end of the Tamiahua lagoon 

 gave easy access to that large body of 

 water. Having now to supply our own 

 launch, several days were lost in over- 

 coming the numberless obstacles which 

 invariably confront the hurried traveler 

 in the tropics, but the importance of ac- 

 tually starting induced us to leave Tam- 

 pico at 3.30 in the afternoon of April 11 

 rather than wait until the following 

 morning. 



Sunset found us still in the canal and 

 we were forced to camp for the night 

 on the lately erected mud-bank which 

 formed its shores — a site fully demon- 

 strating the importance of a tent with a 

 permanently attached water-proof floor- 

 cloth. There were a few ducks in the 

 bordering mangrove swamps. Fuertes 

 killed three blue-winged teal soon after 

 we landed, and a pair of gadwalls, which 

 took wing as he fired, were dropped, if 

 not literally in our pot, at least in the 

 fireplace. 



The spot was a good one to leave, and 

 we were off early in the morning on our 

 run to the southern end of the lagoon. 

 Great brown rail ( Aramides) , Muscovy 

 ducks, and black - necked stilts were 

 among the noteworthy birds about us, 

 while an astonishing number of coots 

 (Fulica) were found resting on the long 

 jetty-like arms which carry the canal to 

 deep water in the lagoon. With explo- 

 sive, protesting cucks they pushed off 

 into the water, forming, finally, a solid 

 black raft seemingly several acres in ex- 

 tent. Along the shore there were a few 

 canvasback, gadwall, and shovelers ; but 

 most of the ducks had evidently left for 

 the north, and birds as a whole were far 

 from common. 



With anticipations of better things be- 

 yond, we puffed along as rapidly as a 

 head wind and two towed row-boats 

 laden with gasoline, provisions, and camp 

 equipment would permit. Our objective 

 point was the home of a certain Indian 

 hunter whom Charles Sheldon had told 

 me could give us all needed information 

 about bird life in general and roseate 

 spoonbills in particular ; but it must be 

 admitted that the fact I had forgotten the 

 man's name and mislaid the notebook in 

 which it was recorded rather clouded our 

 immediate future. 



However, when we landed on the east- 

 ern shore of the lagoon for the night we 

 learned from a troop of small Indian 

 boys, who gravely shook hands with each 

 one of us as we stepped ashore, that a 

 thatched hut on a near-by bluff was the 

 home of the man we had been blindly 

 seeking. "Maclodeo" was the name to 

 which a dormant memory instantly re- 

 sponded. 



A JUNGLE VISITING CARD 



Maclodeo proved to be absent hunting 

 alligators, but when, the following morn- 

 ing, I introduced myself to his wife as a 

 friend of "el Americano Don Carlos" a 

 flash of comprehension illumined her 

 previously puzzled features, and hurry- 

 ing into the dimness of her thatch she 

 quickly returned with a small, still white 

 and evidently precious bit of cardboard, 

 on which was engraved "Charles Shel- 

 don, Madison avenue, New York City,"" 

 a treasured memento which completed 

 the identification of Maclodeo ! 



Information now came readily, and we 

 learned that not only spoonbills, but sev- 

 eral other species of birds were nesting 

 on a group of small islets about 10 miles 

 farther south. In spite of our ardent de- 

 sire to see these birds, our surroundings 

 were too attractive to leave without at 

 least a casual exploration. 



The peninsula is here about 10 miles 

 in width, and in place of a growth of 

 acacias, cacti, and other xerophytic 

 plants, such as characterize the coastal 

 plain to the north and to the south, it is 

 for the greater part covered with a forest 

 of surprising luxuriance. The common 

 occurrence of fresh water at a depth of 

 not more than two feet indicates that 



