Reader, the pleasures which I have experienced in the course of this chequered life of mine have been many;—perhaps many more than would have fallen to my share, had I not, fortunately for me, become a devoted and enthusiastic lover of Nature’s beauteous and wondrous works, which, in truth, I have been from the earliest period to which my recollection extends; and those who have known me best will not for a moment consider it extravagant in me to say, that among the greatest pleasures I have known, has been that derived from pursuing and faithfully describing such of our American birds as were previously unknown or but little observed. Many sultry summer days I have passed amidst the most dismal swamps of the secluded woods of Louisiana, watching with anxiety and in silence the curious habits of the Anhinga; the female bird now sitting closely on her eggs, in a nest constructed by herself and securely placed on the widely extended branch of the tallest cypress, that, as if by magic planted, stood in the midst of an ample lake, while with keen eyes she watched every motion of the wily Buzzard and cunning Crow, lest either of these cowardly marauders might deprive her of her treasures; the partner of her cares and joys meanwhile, with outspread wings and fan-like tail, soaring on high, and glancing first anxiously towards her he loves, then in anger towards one and all of their numerous enemies. In wider and bolder circles he moves, rising higher and still higher, until at length, becoming a mere dusky speck, he almost vanishes from my sight amidst the expanse of the blue sky; but now, suddenly closing his wings, and rushing downwards like a meteor, I see him instantly alight erect upon the edge of the nest, and complacently gaze upon his beloved.