188 
THE CONDOR 
Vol. XVIII 
with submerged tufts of marsh grass, but all covered with water fowl, some of 
which were resting and feeding on their way from Argentina to Alaska. 
Among those seen were the Solitary, the Western, and Buff-breasted Sand- 
pipers, Dowitehers, Black-necked Stilts, Killdeer, Greater and Lesser Yellow- 
legs, feeding in flocks together, besides quakerish Willets, and comfortable 
looking Shovellers. How interesting to meet the travelers half way ! 
But while our morning, with its lakes full of water fowl, was the most 
exciting of our journey, our afternoon dragged slowly along for we had reached 
the sixty or eighty mile stretch of light sand that in distinction from the hard 
bottomed sand of the mesquite land makes such hard pulling that we had been 
warned about it before starting. Coarse poor grass and low oak brush replaced 
the flowers we had come to consider our portion, and sand dunes were the 
most interesting landscape features. The country was as bare of bird as plant 
life with two notable exceptions. Upland Plover were passed along the road 
so tame that they walked close to us with gentle fearlessness, their heads 
raised, their mild eyes resting upon us ; and farther on we saw a flock of per- 
haps a hundred Long-billed Curlew flying toward the ocean in a long shifting 
line, now a broad Y, now a saw-tooth W, now a straight line, a stirring sight. 
When the birds had gone, the hours dragged out and we helped them pass as 
best we could analyzing stray flowers, collecting an occasional specimen, or 
photographing some new type of vegetation, studying up constellations for 
our nights in the open, and dipping into the miniature pocket poets I had 
brought for such hours of need. After Wordsworth we were well attuned to 
the quiet prairie sunset, a warm, serene sunset, the round pink ball going down 
on the level horizon broadening the outlook till we found ourselves quoting 
Lanier’s Marshes of Glynn with their range and their sweep. 
At last the low line of trees we had been wearily traveling toward for hours 
was reached and proved a veritable oasis in the sand belt. An oak mott, San 
Ignatia by name, raised only a few feet above the general level but made up of 
large old live oaks that dispensed cool shade through the hot hours and offered 
shelter to birds from all the region round about. The trees, filled with nests, 
were noisy with squawking Jackdaws, clamoring Scissor-tails, and loquacious 
Mockingbirds, the heated medley being cooled down by the quiet cooing of 
Doves. When the aviary had settled down for the night a rattlesnake, discov- 
ered too near our tent, had to be shot, and at the report of the gun an amaz- 
ingly large flock of Scissor-tails burst out of the tree, proving what the oak 
mott meant on the treeless prairie. The oaks had been trimmed up for wood 
by previous travelers, but after making camp it did not take the old Texan 
long to discover some dead branches he could lassoo, and we were soon sitting 
before the camp fire enjoying our supper after our long day’s drive. 
The stars came out so temptingly that we carried our sleeping bags out 
under them on the open prairie. To sleep under the stars on the open, level 
prairie — the dream of years was to be realized at last ! As if from a raft on 
the ocean the entire circle of your horizon is star-filled sky ! As night closes in 
around you, you seem to be alone with the stars. Mortal no longer, you be- 
come a point in the universe. All human cares, all the littleness of human life 
drop from you, the great universe lies close around you. 
But one cannot always stay on the illuminated, soul expanding mountain 
tops. The return to earth in this case did not bring the looked for second rat- 
tlesnake, but a scorpion fell from a shaken sleeve the next morning. The day 
