CHAPTER II. 



A DIFFICULT LANDING. 



It was barely light when we slipped quietly away from 

 our anohorage in the little cove, which lies so snugly, 

 under the lee of the south shore of BlanquiUa. 



Outside we found a stiff Trade blowing, which boded 

 ill for our landing on Orquilla, the largest of the Hermanos 

 group. The yacht curtseys and dances to the rising 

 sea, for the islands lie straight to windward. Now and 

 then she dips her nose fairly into it. For one brief 

 moment, as she does so, a cloud of dazzling powdery 

 spray caps our bows, and then scatters itself in a thin 

 shower of salt spume, which rakes the forecastle deck 

 from end to end. 



Long before we have covered the ten miles of open 

 sea, we have breakfasted, and are all ready for the stiff 

 climbing which a day's bird collecting on these precipitous 

 and rocky islets entails. 



By the time we are near enough to examine them in 

 detail, the ship's dinghy has been lowered to the rails ; 

 and loaded up with guns, collecting bags, cartridges, 

 camera and lunch ; while near it, all ready for the fray, 

 stand seven rather desperate-looking characters, arrayed 

 in a varied assortment of sun-hats, thick boots, and home- 

 made canvas putties, designed to withstand the deadly 

 cactus — any sort of kit, in fact, that seems good in the 

 owner's eyes. In addition we are provided with stout 

 poles, ropes, machetes for cutting a way through the 

 cactus, knives, water-bottles and field-glasses. 



