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138 IGUANA  •  VOLUME 12, NUMBER 2  •  JUNE 2005 CONSERVATION NEWS

For those who don’t understand why,
in these days of extinction every-

where, the resurrection of some “bird
thing” is so noteworthy, I offer this:

The Ivorybill is not just a swamp bird —
it is *the* Swamp Bird. Even more than
’gators and Bald Cypress, it is the very
embodiment of antiquity, wildness,
remoteness, the primeval mystery of the
deep dark woods and waters. The very
name carried magical, spiritual signifi-
cance, like dragons or centaurs. Like the
other magical creatures, they vanished
when civilization entered their realm.
The Ivorybill became metaphor for
everything that technology and settle-
ment had driven away, into the farthest
recesses of the wilderness or even entirely
from the face of the planet. A swamp
“deep enough for Ivorybills” was one
that was entirely beyond human influ-
ence. They became a phantom, a rumor,
something in which no rational people
were supposed to believe. By the 1970s,
searching for Ivorybills was viewed with
nearly the same eye as searching for

Bigfoot. Someone who claimed a sighting of one was likely to be treated worse than someone who reported seeing a UFO. The
Ivorybill’s status became almost godlike — and rational scientists aren’t supposed to believe in gods.

But the stories persisted. Hunters, mostly, and the occasional boater told mysterious and intriguing tales; but no one could con-
firm, no one could produce a photograph, a recording, a feather, even a flake of wood that was unequivocal. Just a few years ago,
what seemed to be a very promising lead in extreme southwestern Mississippi was finally taken seriously and pursued actively —
but it was more of the same: hints, tantalizing signs, unusual noises, but in the end ... nothing. The failure of the Pearl River expe-
dition after such promising signs was a serious blow to us few hopeful holdouts.

And so comes along Mr. Sparling in his kayak and the huge red-crested woodpecker with the big white spot on its back that landed
on a tree in front of him some 14 months ago. A year of follow-up and amazingly well-kept secrecy — and then the announce-
ment. A dragon is perched on top of the Empire State building, Elvis calls a press conference to apologize for having been away so
long, a flock of Thunderbirds circles Mount Rushmore and they are pecking George Washington’s eyes out, and the Lord God
Woodpecker is happily cruising the swamps of Arkansas.

Anything can happen.

C O N S E R V A T I O N  N E W S

The Phantom of the Swamp
I V O R Y - B I L L E D W O O D P E C K E R ,  C A M P E P H I L U S P R I N C I P A L I S

By William Marshall Pulliam




