239 We thought we were giving them a good time, but it is doubtfull if they really enjoyed it. They might have been thankful for a little sociability and must have been thankful for a little kai kai; but they gave the dance, I think, more as an obligation, knowing that the "big feller master" wanted to see it. While I was sitting in the shack and gazing out at the hills after the sing sing I noticed two large and strange-looking birds light in a tree not a hundred and fifty feet away. While I was looking for a gun one flew off. I shot the other one. It was a white- throated pigeon. One of the rarest birds in this part of the world. Bird collecting is a funny thing! January 30th - February 2nd. This is a story of rain. It has rained all day all of the three days. We are very lucky about our hunting, for in our hunting days we had, at least, our mornings fair. We came in December and are leaving in February, with the month of January corked up and cast upon the waters. And besides catching a bit of a respite from our labors in the intervening time our other actions have been senti- mental ones. We strolled about the camp with what little grace becomes those who remain behind when the show is over. We visited old haunts by the river, watching the jeweled bubbles, and cascades, and bridal veils, and clusters of cold musty-looking moss, wishing, I suppose, that it could last forever. We watched the clouds in