Often half a dozen of these little bats would settle over the roof of the boat after dark and compel us to move elsewhere to sleep.
Fiddler crabs swarmed among the aerial roots of the mangroves and Sesarma crabs climbed about over the prop roots and trunks. Crocodiles fished along the shore and the slapping of their tails was often the last sound we heard at night. Among the trees there were thousands of herons and many cormorants; sandpipers swarmed along the shores of the lagoons. Occasionally we met rarer birds, such as the beautiful roseate spoonbill.
Back of the mangroves along the shores of the Cienaga Grande we had our best jack-lighting. As the light moved along the eyes of the raccoons glowed like pairs of fiery cherries, now and then a deer crashed in the brush, and occasionally a big ant-bear lumbered away through the dark. Shooting at night is not easy. There is no target but the shining eye of an animal. Nevertheless, Mr. Trout shot a fine buck deer and a seven-foot crocodile. The former was hit in the center of the forehead, the latter, though shot from a canoe, was pierced cleanly through one eye.
In closing I must speak of my two companions, Dr. A. G. Kuthven and Mr. F. M. Gaige. It is no small test of friendship to be with two other men day and night for three months in a strange country. One has an excellent chance to become tired of his companions. But these gentlemen were so cheerfully unselfish in bending every energy to further the cause of science by making the expedition a success, so patient during the trials which always come in a tropical climate, that, though I had known and liked both for years, I came back home with increased admiration and respect for them.
