No Doubt These Were The Same 12 Flocks As Those Observed On The
Previous Days, But Still It Rejoiced My Heart To See Even That
Many.
I had feared that the species was far gone on the trail of
the Passenger Pigeon.
But this is anticipating. We were camped still on the island north
of the traverse, waiting for possible water. All day we watched In
vain, all night the surf kept booming, but at three in the morning
the wind dropped, at four it was obviously calmer. I called the
boys and we got away before six; dashing straight south in spite
of rolling seas we crossed the 15-mile stretch in 3 3/4 hours, and
turning westward reached Stony Island by noon. Thence southward
through ever calmer water our gallant boat went spinning, reeling
off the level miles up the river channel, and down again on its
south-west branch, in a glorious red sunset, covering in one day
the journeys of four during our outgoing, in the supposedly far
speedier York boat. Faster and faster we seemed to fly, for we had
the grand incentive that we must catch the steamer at any price
that night. Weeso now, for the first time, showed up strong; knowing
every yard of the way he took advantage of every swirl of the river;
in and out among the larger islands we darted, and when we should
have stopped for the night no man said "Stop", but harder we
paddled.
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