Drawu by Harry Fenn from a photograph. 
Half-tone plate engraved by H. C. Merrill 
REAR VIEW OF THE BLIND USED FOR PHOTOGRAPHING THE FLAMINGOS, THE FRONT 
COVERED WITH PALMETTO LEAVES 
my fancy, and although it is somewhat in 
advance of my story, I may say at once 
that my most vivid dream was but a 
shadow of the reality. 
The following year found me a willing 
captive to the charms of California bird 
life, but a negro scout, a member of our 
party of the preceding year, was de- 
spatched to report on the movements of the 
flamingos, with a view to facilitating work 
the ensuing season. He was unsuccessful, 
but means to advance my project were 
offered by a correspondent in Nassau who 
placed me in communication with one of 
the twelve white inhabitants of the fla- 
mingos’ island. 
This gentleman proved a friend indeed. 
On the approach of the following nesting 
season, under his directions, scouts were 
again sent out. One after the other they 
became physically or mentally exhausted, 
until “ Peter’ alone was left to continue the 
search. Owing to his perseverance the 
home of the flamingos was finally found. 
At once word was sent to me in southern 
Florida, and in a schooner-yacht, lent for 
the work in view, I started for the scene of 
action. 
Three days should have brought us to 
port and Peter, but it was May 8, 1904, 
when we left Florida, and not till May 17 
that we anchored off our Bahama haven. 
Surely no impatient naturalist was ever 
confronted with nine days filled with more 
adverse conditions. Calms, squalls, head 
winds, contrary currents, shoals, reefs, and 
coral heads— all fell to our lot, while at one 
time the whole expedition seemed threat- 
ened with an untimely end when a negro 
pilot ran us hard and fast aground on a lee 
shore at high tide. It was only a slightly 
higher tide and endless kedging that inch 
by inch drew the G/oria into deeper water. 
Four days later we reached our destina- 
tion, but had scarcely lowered our sails 
when we were attacked by a furious cy- 
clonic rain-storm, which would have 
landed us on a neighboring coral reef had 
it not been for the seamanship of our cap- 
tain, effectively seconded by three anchors 
and by fathoms of stout cable. As it was, 
Peter, now the most important member of 
our party, was capsized offshore in a small 
boat; but, thanks to the low tide and a 
friendly shoal, was spared to lead us to the 
retreat of the flamingos. 
165 
