Jan. 26, 1907. j 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
i 33 
were there, clamorous witnesses to the efficient 
work of the Audubon Society of Louisiana. 
On the fourth day out, we arrived at Breton 
Island, the outermost island of Breton Reserva¬ 
tion. This island is six miles long and one-half 
mile wide. Like all the other islands of the 
outer coast, it is practically a sand reef, except 
that, being of greater height, it has accumulated 
as time has gpne by, a light loam from the de¬ 
caying vegetation and now many varieties of 
grasses and flowers make it somewhat of an 
oasis in the dreariness of the gulf. 
Through some unknown accident, years and 
years ago, raccoons and muskrats were intro¬ 
duced on the- island, and have now increased to 
such proportions that bird breeding is altogether 
impossible. If these “varmints” could be ex¬ 
terminated, the island would become the ideal 
spot for tbe purpose for which it was undoubt¬ 
edly intended, but there seems to be no known 
plan to accomplish this much-to-be-desired re¬ 
sult. 
As we came to anchor, about a half mile from 
shore, a light breeze dimpled the surface of the 
water, but soon it died away and the gulf be¬ 
came mirror-like, and then was opened to our 
'sight the wonders of another world. We were 
floating on about six feet of crystalline Water, 
the bottom of the gulf covered with a species of 
grass about six inches in length, and in this 
water and in this grass could be seen a great 
variety of animal life; fish of many species with¬ 
out end or number; clams opening and shutting 
their shells along an erratic way; oysters with 
mouths open, drinking in the floating food; a 
short distance off could be seen the dreaded man- 
eating shark, in another direction the porpoise, 
and in still another direction, the flashing tar¬ 
pon. In this latitude, land and water are prolific 
in life to an astonishing degree. Our wonder¬ 
ment was brought to a close, however, by notic¬ 
ing the storm clouds which were rapidly piling 
up in huge masses in the distance. Finally, these 
assumed the threatening aspect of the dark tor¬ 
nado cloud, out of which came a manifestation 
of power so awe-inspiring that it will remain 
with us for many a day. From the front of the 
dark storm cloud—all of a thousand feet aloft— 
suddenly descended a ribbon of cloud, apparently 
twenty feet wide; at first it was rigid, after¬ 
ward it gently swayed in the fury of the blast 
which went before as a precursor to the rain. 
This ribbon of cloud came down about two hun¬ 
dred feet, and then, pointing rigidly at the water, 
there began a commotion on the surface of the 
gulf, fully eight hundred feet below, which was 
awe inspiring to a degree. Without visible con¬ 
nection this pointing finger of cloud started a 
circular vortex in the waters—all of fifty feet 
in diameter. 
Faster and faster went the water around this 
circle, deeper and deeper grew the bowl-like for¬ 
mation. Around the edges the water was torn 
off and disintegrated into thin tenuous vapor 
which looked like escaping steam, and then, 
strange to relate, from the bottom of this mael¬ 
strom arose a thin column of water which, 
mounting higher and higher, speedily formed a 
junction with the pointing finger of cloud, and a 
dreaded waterspout was born. The law of gravi¬ 
tation was superseded by a greater force. Un¬ 
numbered tons of the gulf were being hurled 
aloft by a force irresistible and awful in its 
grandeur. The waterspout, as soon as it was 
born, took three degrees of motion unto itself, an 
onward one, a swaying one which was terrible 
to contemplate, and a circumgyration around a 
changing center. The onward one meant death 
to us, as we were right in the path of its pro¬ 
gress, and, seeing the menace, the captain grabbed 
up his compass and a jug of water and ordered 
us into the yawl, which was pulled shoreward 
with the strength of despair. Fortunately, when 
witbin fifty yards of us the “spout” broke, a 
deluge of rain blotted out everything, but we 
were safe. That night fierce winds roiled the 
Waters of the gulf, and in the morning, when our 
cruise was continued to the Grand Cochere, a 
heavy sea buffeted our craft as though it were 
doomed. 
Grand Cochere is a sand reef. On its inhos¬ 
pitable bosom the body of the beautiful eighteen- 
year old daughter of Thomas Taggart was 
found ’after the destruction of the launch Paul 
Jones, on which she was a passenger. A pene¬ 
trating loneliness haunts the place. Much to 
our regret, the birds nest there. It is a place of 
danger always, being open to the furious storms 
of the sea; nevertheless, the birds were fortunate 
this year in that no serious storms had violated 
the spot and it is calculated by our warden that 
anywhere from 25,000 to 50,000 birds were raised 
there. 
When we arrived at the island, a heavy sea 
was rolling in from the outer way, but the in¬ 
vestigation had to be made, so into the yawl the 
captain loaded me and my faithful camera, and 
soon he was pulling us shoreward. We had gone 
but a short distance, however, when we realized 
that we could not land in the surf, which was 
lashing the shore in its fury. As tbe little boat 
rolled and pitched we caught glimpses of the 
beach lined with tens of thousands of royal and 
Cabot terns, pelicans and others species of wild 
sea birds. Here was the great sight we had 
come so far to see. Here was a picture of multi¬ 
tudinous bird life that could not be duplicated 
anywhere else. But photographing was out of 
the question. The wind rising, we realized that 
the question was not one of photographing birds, 
but of self-preservation. 
The wind had shifted, and with the shift came 
the menace of the sand-pit. We arrived back at 
the schooner, and then came a desperate 
struggle, wind and sea and tide seemingly de¬ 
termined to pick up the boat and dash ber 011 
the spit; but after five tacks skill and courage 
won out, and I was able to congratulate our 
captain on saving his boat and ourselves from 
destruction. Frank M. Milker. 
President Audubon Society of Louisiana. 
