File:Two bird-lovers in Mexico (1905) (14751376895).jpg

Identifier: twobirdloversinm00beeb (find matches)
Title: Two bird-lovers in Mexico
Year: 1905 (1900s)
Authors: Beebe, William, 1877-1962
Subjects: Natural history -- Mexico Birds -- Mexico
Publisher: London, A. Constable & company, ltd. Boston and New York, Houghton, Mifflin and company
Contributing Library: American Museum of Natural History Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Biodiversity Heritage Library

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of the outlet of thisgreat ocean-fed lake, to see it become more green andslimy day by day. Finally the myriads of fish strug-gle and leap ashore in windrows, fighting for oxygen,and then the terrible stencli carries death on everybreeze. We passed the great cut through the hillsto the sea, which, it is hoped, will put an end to thisperil. A few minutes after passing the sinister expanse ofthe lagoon we reached the harbour of Manzanillo,and there lay the Pacific — so deep and blue and pure. Then felt I like some watcher of the skiesWhen a new planet swims into his ken ; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyesHe stared at the Pacific, and all his men Looked at each other with a wild surmise,Silent upon a peak in Darien. We had but two hours before the train made itsreturn trij) — only long enough to walk to the beach,over the intervening hill, eat our lunch beside itsbooming waves, and return. On the way we were in-terested to see large cotton-trees, the new source of «4 38^2 ^
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:::::::::*; THE HOT LANDS OF THE PACIFIC ;*::::::::; this material and one which is not subject to the attacksof the boll-weevil. There is said to be a great com-mercial future for this plant. It was a strange sightto see a strong tree, thirty or forty feet high, with thebranches and twigs all tipped with overflowing bollsof soft white cotton. Few harbours are more beautiful than this har-bour of Manzanillo; a great curving bow of bluewater, surrounded with low hills, with the tiny red-tiled adobe houses nestled close to the shore at oneside. We chanced upon a little beach of whitest sand shutin by cliffs, tunnelled and turreted by the centuriesof storms. Here the Red-footed Boobies fished, divingmagnificently just beyond the surf. California BrownPelicans watched us from tiny wave-carved islets, off-shore. The foam tossed delicate lavender shells andjelly-fish discs at our feet, and the cool sea-breeze blewaway all remembrance of the heat and dust betweenus and our camp home. Gradual

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