94 
THE CONDOR 
Vol. XII 
cases of several small birds that I will not take the time to specify. Cultivation is, 
of course, the prime cause of this transformation. Most of the heavy brush for 
many miles up, and the few miles that are wooded, down the river, has been re - 
moved, to make way for cultivated fields, that are quite a net work of irrigating 
canals. Hundreds of settlers have come into the Valley of late, to take up these 
lands, generally with mistaken ideas of a very new country, and liberally provided 
with guns. Of course they were more or less disappointed, tho it has (or did have) 
as great a variety of feathered game as any part of the United States. Unfortu- 
nately, this very condition may lead to a partial extermination of many species, for 
many of the settlers have an idea that the number of ducks, plover, quail, etc., is 
so unlimited that no closed season is necessary. So the game laws are liberally 
interpreted — and as laxly enforced. 
Nearing the Gulf Coast, going eastward from Brownsville, one approaches an 
open country comprising sand-dunes, and inundated flats, the latter caused by the 
seasonal overflow from the river. These swampy areas are the homes of many 
species of water-birds during the entire year; but especially so in winter when 
myriads of ducks, geese, herons, plovers and sandpipers resort to it. Near the 
mouth of the Rio Grande, along the coast, is a little fishing-village named Point 
Isabel, peopled principally by Mexicans. It is the terminus of a railroad from 
Brownsville, being twenty-six miles distant therefrom. I made this coast hamlet 
my headquarters for several months during the fall of 1908, and on several occas- 
ions, for brief periods since then. 
I do not care to put an estimate on the number of species of birds that could be 
found at one season or another within the territory I have just referred to, tho I 
imagine it could produce a list greater than most Californian localities. Rather, I 
will in hap-hazard manner proceed to speak briefly of the characteristic species of 
the Valley; also of some of the more interesting migrants. 
I believe, well I am sure — that the bird I wanted to find most of all, was the 
one, that as yet, I have failed to meet within our borders. It is the Jacana ( Jacana 
spinosa) . Many a time I have discovered a spot suitable to its requirements along 
the river, but no Jacana appeared. So I conclude, that we can only include it on 
our lists as a casual summer visitor; for I know of but one taken here during the 
past two seasons. This example was secured along the river, half way to the coast 
by an old Mexican gunner, who had never shot a bird like it previously, in the 
many years he had hunted here. He brought the bird to the city, and sold it to a 
local merchant who had it mounted. I examined this bird in the flesh, and re- 
corded the date of its capture — June 2, 1908. 
After the Jacana, it was the Chachalaca that reigned in my thoughts — and I 
had better fortune in this case, meeting it possibly a month after my arrival. 
Working thru some heavy brush one cloudy day, I was startled by a prodigious 
flapping of wing, accompanied by chuckling, turkey-like notes, all issuing from 
above. Lo, behold! — sitting not fifteen feet over my head, in a patriarchal ebony 
tree, were ten or more of as stupid looking aves as ever I gazed upon. My pres- 
ence had caused this commotion, but no flight was resorted to, until I had shot 
into the flock. As already stated, the Chachalaca is no longer a common bird near 
here; and one may ride the country roads for many an evening, before its nocturnal 
notes sound in the ear. It it now seldom brought into market in numbers for sale, 
as was the case at the time Dr. Merrill wrote. The few that we do find for barter 
are live birds, mostly having been hatcht under a domestic hen — that being the 
fate of the eggs of any nest of the kind discovered here. Indeed, there must be 
more domesticated Chachalacas, varying in degrees of intermixture, than wild 
