192 files changed, 15697 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/75453-h/75453-h.htm b/75453-h/75453-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..15843c4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/75453-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,15697 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html>
+<html lang="en">
+<head>
+    <meta charset="UTF-8">
+    <title>
+      Our Search for a Wilderness | Project Gutenberg
+    </title>
+    <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover">
+    <style>
+
+a {
+    text-decoration: none;
+}
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+h1,h2,h3,h4 {
+    text-align: center;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+h2.nobreak, h3.nobreak {
+    page-break-before: avoid;
+}
+
+hr.chap {
+    margin-top: 2em;
+    margin-bottom: 2em;
+    clear: both;
+    width: 65%;
+    margin-left: 17.5%;
+    margin-right: 17.5%;
+}
+
+img.w100 {
+    width: 100%;
+}
+
+div.chapter {
+    page-break-before: always;
+}
+
+ul {
+    list-style-type: none;
+}
+
+li, li.indx {
+    margin-top: .5em;
+    padding-left: 2em;
+    text-indent: -2em;
+}
+
+li.ifrst {
+    margin-top: 2em;
+    padding-left: 4em;
+}
+
+li.isub1 {
+    padding-left: 4em;
+    text-indent: -2em;
+}
+
+li.isub2 {
+    padding-left: 6em;
+    text-indent: -2em;
+}
+
+p {
+    margin-top: 0.5em;
+    text-align: justify;
+    margin-bottom: 0.5em;
+    text-indent: 1em;
+}
+
+table {
+    margin: 1em auto 1em auto;
+    max-width: 35em;
+    border-collapse: collapse;
+}
+
+th {
+    padding: 0.25em;
+    font-weight: normal;
+}
+
+td {
+    padding-left: 2.25em;
+    padding-right: 0.25em;
+    vertical-align: top;
+    text-indent: -2em;
+    text-align: justify;
+}
+
+.tdc {
+    text-align: center;
+    padding: 0.75em 0.25em 0.5em 0.25em;
+    text-indent: 0;
+}
+
+.tdr {
+    text-align: right;
+}
+
+.tdpg {
+    vertical-align: bottom;
+    text-align: right;
+}
+
+.ad {
+    margin: auto;
+    max-width: 30em;
+    border: thin solid black;
+    padding: 0.5em;
+}
+
+.bird {
+    vertical-align: super;
+    font-size: .8em;
+    text-decoration: none;
+}
+
+.blockquote {
+    margin: 1.5em 10%;
+}
+
+.caption p {
+    text-align: center;
+    margin-bottom: 1em;
+    font-size: 90%;
+    text-indent: 0em;
+}
+
+.center {
+    text-align: center;
+    text-indent: 0em;
+}
+
+.dedication {
+    text-align: center;
+    text-indent: 0em;
+    line-height: 1.8em;
+}
+
+.ditto {
+    margin-left: 1em;
+    margin-right: 0.75em;
+}
+
+.figcenter {
+    margin: auto;
+    text-align: center;
+}
+
+.figright {
+    float: right;
+    clear: right;
+    margin-left: 1em;
+    margin-bottom: 1em;
+    margin-top: 1em;
+    margin-right: 0;
+    padding: 0;
+    text-align: center;
+}
+
+.footnotes {
+    margin-top: 1em;
+    border: dashed 1px;
+}
+
+.footnote {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+    font-size: 0.9em;
+}
+
+.footnote .label {
+    position: absolute;
+    right: 84%;
+    text-align: right;
+}
+
+.fnanchor {
+    vertical-align: super;
+    font-size: .8em;
+    text-decoration: none;
+}
+
+.gothic {
+    font-family: 'Old English Text MT', 'Old English', serif;
+}
+
+.larger {
+    font-size: 150%;
+}
+
+.pagenum {
+    position: absolute;
+    right: 4%;
+    font-size: smaller;
+    text-align: right;
+    font-style: normal;
+}
+
+.poetry-container {
+    text-align: center;
+}
+
+.poetry {
+    display: inline-block;
+    text-align: left;
+}
+
+.poetry .stanza {
+    margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;
+}
+
+.poetry .verse {
+    padding-left: 3em;
+}
+
+.poetry .indent0 {
+    text-indent: -3em;
+}
+
+.poetry .indent2 {
+    text-indent: -2em;
+}
+
+.poetry .indent12 {
+    text-indent: 3em;
+}
+
+.right {
+    text-align: right;
+}
+
+.smaller {
+    font-size: 80%;
+}
+
+.smcap {
+    font-variant: small-caps;
+    font-style: normal;
+}
+
+.allsmcap {
+    font-variant: small-caps;
+    font-style: normal;
+    text-transform: lowercase;
+}
+
+.spacer {
+    margin-left: 2.5em;
+}
+
+.tb {
+    margin-top: 2em;
+}
+
+.titlepage {
+    text-align: center;
+    margin-top: 3em;
+    text-indent: 0em;
+}
+
+.transnote {
+    background-color: #E6E6FA;
+    color: black;
+    text-align: center;
+    font-size: smaller;
+    padding: 0.5em;
+    margin-top: 5em;
+}
+
+.x-ebookmaker img {
+    max-width: 100%;
+    width: auto;
+    height: auto;
+}
+
+.x-ebookmaker .poetry {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 1.5em;
+}
+
+.x-ebookmaker .blockquote {
+    margin: 1.5em 5%;
+}
+
+/* Illustration classes */
+.illowp100 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp37 {width: 37%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp37 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp45 {width: 45%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp45 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp50 {width: 50%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp50 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp52 {width: 52%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp52 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp53 {width: 53%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp53 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp56 {width: 56%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp56 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp57 {width: 57%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp57 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp60 {width: 60%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp60 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp63 {width: 63%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp63 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp64 {width: 64%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp64 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp67 {width: 67%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp67 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp71 {width: 71%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp71 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp75 {width: 75%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp75 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp78 {width: 78%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp78 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp83 {width: 83%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp83 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp84 {width: 84%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp84 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp88 {width: 88%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp88 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp91 {width: 91%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp91 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp92 {width: 92%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp92 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp93 {width: 93%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp93 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp94 {width: 94%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp94 {width: 100%;}
+.illowp97 {width: 97%;}
+.x-ebookmaker .illowp97 {width: 100%;}
+
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75453 ***</div>
+
+<div class="ad">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_i"></a>[i]</span></p>
+
+<p class="center larger">BY C. WILLIAM BEEBE</p>
+
+<p class="center">THE BIRD, ITS FORM AND FUNCTION</p>
+
+<p>With colored Frontispiece and 371 Illustrations,
+chiefly photographed from Life by
+the Author. <i>American Nature Series.</i> New
+York: Henry Holt and Company. 8vo.
+$3.50 net.</p>
+
+<p class="center">THE LOG OF THE SUN</p>
+
+<p>A Chronicle of Nature’s Year. With fifty-two
+full-page illustrations by Walter King
+Stone, and numerous Vignettes and photographs
+from Life. New York: Henry Holt
+and Company. 8vo., full gilt. $6.00 net.</p>
+
+<p class="center">TWO BIRD-LOVERS IN MEXICO</p>
+
+<p>Illustrated with photographs from Life
+taken by the Author. Boston: Houghton
+Mifflin Company. 8vo. $3.00 net.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_ii"></a>[ii]</span></p>
+
+<h1>OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS</h1>
+
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_iii"></a>[iii]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp53" id="frontispiece" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p style="text-align: right; font-size: 80%;">(<i>Frontispiece</i>)</p>
+  <p><span class="smcap">In the South American Wilderness.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_iv"></a>[iv]</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_v"></a>[v]</span></p>
+
+<p class="titlepage larger">OUR SEARCH FOR A<br>
+WILDERNESS</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p class="center">AN ACCOUNT OF TWO ORNITHOLOGICAL EXPEDITIONS<br>
+TO VENEZUELA AND TO BRITISH GUIANA</p>
+
+<p class="titlepage"><span class="smaller">BY</span><br>
+MARY BLAIR BEEBE<br>
+<span class="smaller">AND</span><br>
+C. WILLIAM BEEBE<br>
+<span class="smaller"><i>Curator of Ornithology in the New York Zoölogical Park; Fellow of the<br>
+New York Academy of Sciences; Member of the American<br>
+Ornithologists’ Union and Corresponding<br>
+Member of the London<br>
+Zoölogical Society</i></span></p>
+
+<p class="titlepage"><i>ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS FROM LIFE<br>
+TAKEN BY THE AUTHORS</i></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter titlepage illowp60" id="holt" style="max-width: 10em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/holt.jpg" alt="">
+</figure>
+
+<p class="titlepage"><span class="smaller">NEW YORK</span><br>
+HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY<br>
+<span class="smaller">1910</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vi"></a>[vi]</span></p>
+
+<p class="titlepage smaller"><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1910,<br>
+by<br>
+HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY</span></p>
+
+<p class="center smaller"><i>Published April, 1910</i></p>
+
+<p class="titlepage smaller"><span class="gothic">Stanhope Press</span><br>
+F. H. GILSON COMPANY<br>
+BOSTON, U.S.A.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vii"></a>[vii]</span></p>
+
+<p class="dedication">To<br>
+<span class="smcap">Judge and Mrs. ROGER A. PRYOR</span><br>
+With the deepest affection and admiration<br>
+of<br>
+their Granddaughter<br>
+<span class="allsmcap">MARY BLAIR BEEBE</span><br>
+and of<br>
+<span class="allsmcap">C. WILLIAM BEEBE</span></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_viii"></a>[viii]</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_ix"></a>[ix]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="PREFACE">PREFACE.</h2>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>In the following pages we have set down the tale of two
+searches for a wilderness. These two private expeditions
+were undertaken for the purpose of learning something about
+the birds and other wild creatures of countries further south
+than any we had yet visited. Both trips were successful;
+for the regions we explored were wilderness wonderlands,—full
+of beauty, abounding in the romance which ever enhances
+wild creatures and wild men, and they were part
+of the great zoölogical “dark continent” which we hope to
+devote our lives to studying.</p>
+
+<p>On our first search the collecting of live birds was incidental,
+although we brought back forty specimens of fourteen
+species.</p>
+
+<p>On the second search, however, we took with us an
+assistant, Mr. Lee S. Crandall. By his assiduity in trapping
+and in arousing the interest of native coolie and black boys,
+he assembled a splendid collection of almost three hundred
+living birds of fifty-one species. These we brought to the
+New York Zoölogical Park, where no less than thirty-three
+species were new to the collection. In addition many small
+mammals and reptiles were collected.</p>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Part I.</span></h3>
+
+<p>We left New York on February 22d, 1908, on the Royal
+Mail Steamship “Trent,” and after touching at Jamaica,
+Colon, Savanilla and La Guayra, we disembarked at Port
+of Spain, Trinidad, on March 9th. Leaving this port in a
+Venezuelan sloop we cruised among the caños north of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_x"></a>[x]</span>
+Orinoco Delta, and explored the country about the Venezuelan
+Pitch Lake—La Brea.</p>
+
+<p>To Mr. Eugene André of Trinidad, we are deeply indebted
+for a hundred kindnesses which did much to make
+our trip a success. We wish also to express gratitude to
+Mr. Mole, Mr. Anduse and especially to the late Mr. Ellis
+Grell.</p>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">Part II.</span></h3>
+
+<p>On the 15th of February, 1909, we sailed from New York
+on the Steamship “Coppename” of the Royal Dutch West
+Indian Mail, and with only a single stop—Barbadoes—reached
+Georgetown, British Guiana, on the 24th of the
+same month.</p>
+
+<p>In British Guiana we made three expeditions; two as
+the guests of Mr. and Mrs. Gaylord Wilshire, having
+as our objective points two gold mines in the midst of
+the wilderness, the first at Hoorie in the northwest, the
+second on the Little Aremu in central Guiana. On these
+expeditions we were spared all the usual annoyances of
+transportation; food and servants and everything at the
+mines were put at our service to facilitate our study of the
+nature life of the country. The third trip to the savanna
+region further south was made at the invitation of Mr. and
+Mrs. Lindley Vinton, two Americans living in Georgetown,
+who placed their home at our disposal while we remained
+in Georgetown.</p>
+
+<p>During our entire stay in British Guiana we received
+unfailing courtesy and kindness,—from the Governor,
+Sir Frederick Hodgson, down to the great black hospitable
+wilderness police. Professor J. B. Harrison allowed us to
+use the old aviaries at the Botanical Gardens, and with
+Mr. James Rodway of the Georgetown Museum and
+Mr. B. Howell Jones, extended to us all the courtesies in
+his power.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xi"></a>[xi]</span></p>
+
+<p>For figures 97, 98, 108, 144, and 158 we are indebted to
+Dr. Hiram Bingham, and figures 83, 109, 130, and 131 are
+from photographs belonging to the New York Zoölogical
+Society and were taken by Mr. E. R. Sanborn. All the
+others were taken by ourselves with a Graflex Camera and
+27-inch Goerz lens, and a pocket Kodak, both 4 by 5 in
+size.</p>
+
+<p>The first two chapters appeared in their original form in
+“Harper’s Monthly Magazine,” and the third chapter in
+“Recreation.”</p>
+
+<p>Our thanks are due to Dr. William T. Hornaday, Director
+of the New York Zoölogical Park, for the leave of absence
+which made possible these expeditions.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">Three appendices have been added. The first is a
+classified list of the birds, with their scientific names, which
+are mentioned in the book; by no means a complete list
+of those observed. Reference to it is facilitated by the
+superior numbers affixed throughout the text to the names
+of the birds. The second appendix gives the native Guianan
+names of the commoner species of birds. The third is a list
+of the insects observed at Hoorie which have been identified
+up to the present time.</p>
+
+<p>Wherever in this volume it has seemed best for any reason
+that certain chapters should be written by one of the authors
+alone, the writer’s name has been given at the head of the
+chapter. In all chapters not thus designated the authors
+have collaborated.</p>
+
+<p class="right">MARY BLAIR BEEBE,<br>
+C. WILLIAM BEEBE.</p>
+
+<p class="smaller"><i>January, 1910.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xii"></a>[xii]</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xiii"></a>[xiii]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+</div>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr"></td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td class="tdpg smaller">PAGE</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdc" colspan="3"><a href="#PART_I">PART I. OUR FIRST SEARCH.</a><br>
+    <span class="smcap">Venezuela.</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">I.</td>
+    <td>THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">3</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">II.</td>
+    <td>THE LAKE OF PITCH</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">32</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">III.</td>
+    <td>A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">71</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdc" colspan="3"><a href="#PART_II">PART II. OUR SECOND SEARCH.</a><br>
+    <span class="smcap">British Guiana.</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">IV.</td>
+    <td>GEORGETOWN</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">111</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">V.</td>
+    <td>STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">134</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">VI.</td>
+    <td>A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">165</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">VII.</td>
+    <td>THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS WITH INDIANS AND CANOE</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">214</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">VIII.</td>
+    <td>THE WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">244</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">IX.</td>
+    <td>JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">285</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">X.</td>
+    <td>JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU (Continued)</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">316</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">XI.</td>
+    <td>THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">350</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdc" colspan="3">APPENDICES.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">A.</td>
+    <td>CLASSIFIED LIST OF BIRDS MENTIONED IN THIS VOLUME</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#APPENDIX_A">389</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">B.</td>
+    <td>NATIVE GUIANAN NAMES OF BIRDS</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#APPENDIX_B">395</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">C.</td>
+    <td>ALPHABETICAL LISTS OF BIRDS</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#APPENDIX_C">397</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr"></td>
+    <td>INDEX</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#INDEX">399</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xiv"></a>[xiv]</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xv"></a>[xv]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2>
+
+</div>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr smaller">FIG.</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td class="tdpg smaller">PAGE</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr"></td>
+    <td>In the South American Wilderness.</td>
+    <td class="tdpg smaller"><a href="#frontispiece"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">1.</td>
+    <td>Map of our Trip through the Mangrove Wilderness</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure001">2</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">2.</td>
+    <td>Our Sloop entering the Mangroves</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure002">5</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">3.</td>
+    <td>Scarlet Ibises in Flight</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure003">7</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">4.</td>
+    <td>Young Mangrove Plants</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure004">11</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">5.</td>
+    <td>The Crucifix in the Catfish</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure005">13</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">6.</td>
+    <td>Parrot Puff-fish</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure006">15</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">7.</td>
+    <td>Four-eyed Fish</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure007">16</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">8.</td>
+    <td>Our Floating Home at La Ceiba</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure008">18</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">9.</td>
+    <td>Exploring the Caños in a Dug-out</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure009">21</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">10.</td>
+    <td>White Orchids</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure010">23</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">11.</td>
+    <td>Sun-bittern</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure011">25</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">12.</td>
+    <td>Solution of the Mangrove Mystery—an Anaconda</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure012">27</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">13.</td>
+    <td>Hoatzins in the Bamboos on the Guarapiche</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure013">28</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">14.</td>
+    <td>First Glimpse of the Venezuela Mountains</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure014">31</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">15.</td>
+    <td>Colony of 150 Cassiques’ Nests in One Tree</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure015">33</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">16.</td>
+    <td>Nest and Eggs of Yellow-backed Cassique</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure016">34</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">17.</td>
+    <td>Venezuelan Tree Porcupine</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure017">36</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">18.</td>
+    <td>Wild Chachalaca near a Guanoco Hut</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure018">38</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">19.</td>
+    <td>Scorpion and its Young taken from Milady’s Shoe</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure019">39</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">20.</td>
+    <td>Yellow Woodpecker</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure020">41</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">21.</td>
+    <td>Owl Butterfly on Cocoa Bark</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure021">42</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">22.</td>
+    <td>Lizard Alert on Trunk of Tree</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure022">44</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">23.</td>
+    <td>The Same Lizard a Moment Later, Obliterated by Change of Position</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure023">45</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">24.</td>
+    <td>Nest and Eggs of Great Blue Tinamou</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure024">47</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">25.</td>
+    <td>Woodhewer clinging to the Trunk of a Tree</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure025">50</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">26.</td>
+    <td>Streaked Flycatcher</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure026">51</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">27.</td>
+    <td>The Jungle Railroad</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure027">56</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">28.</td>
+    <td>Spider Lilies near Pitch Lake</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure028">57</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">29.</td>
+    <td>La Brea—The Lake of Pitch</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure029">59</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">30.</td>
+    <td>The fatal “Mother of the Lake”</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure030">61</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">31.</td>
+    <td>White-headed Chimachima Hawk and Eta Palm</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure031">62</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xvi"></a>[xvi]</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">32.</td>
+    <td>Amazon Parrot Roost, Pitch Lake</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure032">63</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">33.</td>
+    <td>The Home of the Amazon Parrot in the Middle of Pitch Lake</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure033">64</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">34.</td>
+    <td>Amazon Parrot at Entrance of Nest. Fifteen feet away</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure034-035">65</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">35.</td>
+    <td>Amazon Parrot at Entrance of Nest. Ten feet away</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure034-035">65</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">36.</td>
+    <td>Amazon Parrot about to take Flight</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure036">66</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">37.</td>
+    <td>Eggs and Young of Amazon Parrot in the Nest</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure037">67</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">38.</td>
+    <td>Fish from the Pools in Pitch Lake. <i>Aequidens</i> sp.</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure038-039">69</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">39.</td>
+    <td>Fish from the Pools in Pitch Lake. <i>Hoplias malabaricus</i></td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure038-039">69</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">40.</td>
+    <td>Our Sloop at Guanoco</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure040">72</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">41.</td>
+    <td>Venezuelan Soldiers on the “Pontón” Guard Ship</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure041">76</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">42.</td>
+    <td>Captain Truxillo paddling us up the Guarapiche past Caño Colorado</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure042">78</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">43.</td>
+    <td>Sunset in the Mangrove Wilderness</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure043">80</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">44.</td>
+    <td>The Silent Savages</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure044">81</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">45.</td>
+    <td>Guarauno Indians coming to trade at Caño Colorado</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure045">83</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">46.</td>
+    <td>Guarauno Squaws and Child with Monkey</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure046">85</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">47.</td>
+    <td>Pitch Lake, showing freshly dug pit filled with water; an older
+    pit filled with soft pitch, both surrounded by the hard surface pitch</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure047">88</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">48.</td>
+    <td>Digging out the Black, Waxlike Pitch</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure048">90</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">49.</td>
+    <td>Loading Pitch on the Hand Cars</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure049">93</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">50.</td>
+    <td>Mangrove Wilderness from the High Land at Guanoco</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure050">95</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">51.</td>
+    <td>Inhabitants of Guanoco assembled for a Dance</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure051">97</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">52.</td>
+    <td>A Palm-sheath Rocking Toy</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure052">100</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">53.</td>
+    <td>Sheath in <a href="#figure052">Fig. 52</a>, covering the Flower of a Palm</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure053">102</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">54.</td>
+    <td>Priestless Chapel at Guanoco</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure054">105</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">55.</td>
+    <td>Guarauno Indian Papoose</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure055">107</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">56.</td>
+    <td>Map of our Three Expeditions into British Guiana</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure056">110</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">57.</td>
+    <td>Street in Georgetown</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure057">113</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">58.</td>
+    <td>Kiskadee Tyrant Flycatcher</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure058">114</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">59.</td>
+    <td>Coolie Woman and Negress</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure059">117</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">60.</td>
+    <td>The Georgetown Sea-wall</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure060">119</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">61.</td>
+    <td>Toad</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure061">123</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">62.</td>
+    <td>Arc-light</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure062">123</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">63.</td>
+    <td>Victoria Regia in the Botanical Gardens</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure063">124</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">64.</td>
+    <td>Lotus in Blossom</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure064">126</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">65.</td>
+    <td>Taliput Palm in Blossom</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure065">128</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">66.</td>
+    <td>Canal of the Crocodiles</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure066">130</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">67.</td>
+    <td>Young Elania Flycatchers</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure067">132</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">68.</td>
+    <td>Typical Indian House at Morawhanna</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure068">136</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">69.</td>
+    <td>Three-year Olds at Home in their Wood-skin</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure069">138</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">70.</td>
+    <td>Mount Everard</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure070">140</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">71.</td>
+    <td>Sir Everard im Thurn’s House at Morawhanna</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure071">143</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">72.</td>
+    <td>Palm Tanager</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure072">147</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xvii"></a>[xvii]</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">73.</td>
+    <td>Frederick, the Carib Indian Boy</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure073">152</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">74.</td>
+    <td>Our Tent-boat on the Barama River</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure074">159</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">75.</td>
+    <td>Indian Boys in Dug-out</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure075">162</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">76.</td>
+    <td>Crossing a Stream on the Hoorie Jungle Road</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure076">166</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">77.</td>
+    <td>The Wilderness Trail</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure077">168</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">78.</td>
+    <td>Engine House and Flume of Hoorie Gold Mine</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure078">172</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">79.</td>
+    <td>The “Little Giant” at Work</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure079">175</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">80.</td>
+    <td>Carib Hunter and His Children at Hoorie</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure080">178</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">81.</td>
+    <td>Three Generations of Carib Indians</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure081">180</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">82.</td>
+    <td>Mr. Wilshire and Crandall with Bushmaster</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure082">182</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">83.</td>
+    <td>The Terrible Bushmaster</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure083">183</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">84.</td>
+    <td>Panning Gold</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure084">186</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">85.</td>
+    <td>Whip Scorpion or Pedipalp Spider</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure085">190</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">86.</td>
+    <td>A Jungle Blossom</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure086">193</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">87.</td>
+    <td>The Drowned Forest</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure087">199</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">88.</td>
+    <td>Nests of Red-backed Cassiques</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure088">204</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">89.</td>
+    <td>Barama River from Farnum’s House</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure089">216</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">90.</td>
+    <td>Scene on the Barrabarra</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure090">219</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">91.</td>
+    <td>Wake of a Manatee swimming up River</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure091">221</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">92.</td>
+    <td>Manatee browsing close to the Bank</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure092">222</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">93.</td>
+    <td>Manatee taking in Air and about to dive</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure093">224</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">94.</td>
+    <td>A Vista of the Biara</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure094">226</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">95.</td>
+    <td>Father Gillett and his Indian Boys</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure095">228</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">96.</td>
+    <td>Tropical Luxuriance</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure096">230</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">97.</td>
+    <td>Capybara on the Bank of a Stream</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure097">232</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">98.</td>
+    <td>South American Thatched House and Nests of Green Cassiques</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure098"> 236</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">99.</td>
+    <td>Miles of Lilies</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure099">239</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">100.</td>
+    <td>The Road to Suddie</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure100">243</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">101.</td>
+    <td>Gray-breasted Martins nesting on the Steamer</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure101">245</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">102.</td>
+    <td>Coolies and their Wives fishing on the Essequibo</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure102">247</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">103.</td>
+    <td>Falls at Lower Camaria</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure103">249</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">104.</td>
+    <td>A Butterfly Mimicking an Orchid</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure104">251</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">105.</td>
+    <td>Fresh-water Flying Fish</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure105">252</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">106.</td>
+    <td>Salt-water Flying Fish</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure106">253</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">107.</td>
+    <td>Cuyuni River</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure107">254</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">108.</td>
+    <td>A Herd of Eight Capybaras, Six Adult and Two Young</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure108">255</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">109.</td>
+    <td>Great Anteater</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure109">257</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">110.</td>
+    <td>A Tacuba on the Cuyuni</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure110">259</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">111.</td>
+    <td>Rapids on the Cuyuni</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure111">260</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">112.</td>
+    <td>Rushing the Boat into the Rapids</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure112">261</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">113.</td>
+    <td>Warping the Boat Through the Lower Whirlpools</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure113">262</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">114.</td>
+    <td>A Rest midway up the Rapids</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure114">264</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">115.</td>
+    <td>The Final Struggle up to Smooth Water</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure115">266</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xviii"></a>[xviii]</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">116.</td>
+    <td>Shooting the Rapids at Full Speed</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure116">270</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">117.</td>
+    <td>A Wilderness Passion Flower—Simitú</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure117">272</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">118.</td>
+    <td>Our Camp on the Aremu River</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure118">274</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">119.</td>
+    <td>Poling under Tacubas on the Little Aremu</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure119">276</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">120.</td>
+    <td>Tree-ferns on the Little Aremu</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure120">278</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">121.</td>
+    <td>A Sloth in Action</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure121">280</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">122.</td>
+    <td>A Sloth Asleep</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure122">281</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">123.</td>
+    <td>Where only Otters and Fish can pass</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure123">283</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">124.</td>
+    <td>Aremu Gold Mine, showing Bungalow and Mine Shaft</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure124">286</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">125.</td>
+    <td>Descending the Shaft</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure125">289</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">126.</td>
+    <td>Walking Stick Insect</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure126">290</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">127.</td>
+    <td>Scorpion and Caterpillar after their Battle</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure127">292</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">128.</td>
+    <td>Milady and the Giant Mora Tree</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure128">296</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">129.</td>
+    <td>Aërial Roots of Bush-rope</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure129">299</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">130.</td>
+    <td>Tamandua</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure130">306</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">131.</td>
+    <td>Agouti</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure131">312</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">132.</td>
+    <td>Nest and Eggs of White-throated Robin</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure132">323</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">133.</td>
+    <td>Section of Paddle-wood Tree</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure133">325</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">134.</td>
+    <td>Phonetic Caterpillars</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure134">329</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">135.</td>
+    <td>First Phase of Curassow Strutting, a Slow Walk with Raised Tail. Rear View.</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure135-136">333</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">136.</td>
+    <td>The Same. Side View.</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure135-136">333</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">137.</td>
+    <td>Second Phase of Curassow Strutting</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure137">335</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">138.</td>
+    <td>Third Phase of Curassow Strutting</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure138">337</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">139.</td>
+    <td>Golden-crowned Manakin lifted from Nest</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure139">343</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">140.</td>
+    <td>Young Dusky Parrots</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure140">344</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">141.</td>
+    <td>Early Morning in the Wilderness</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure141">346</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">142.</td>
+    <td>Indian Hunter bringing in a Peccary</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure142">347</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">143.</td>
+    <td>American Egret on the Abary River Savanna</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure143">352</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">144.</td>
+    <td>Nest and Young of Jabiru</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure144">354</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">145.</td>
+    <td>Gray-necked Tree-ducks rising from the Savanna</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure145">356</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">146.</td>
+    <td>Our Bungalow on Abary Island</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure146">358</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">147.</td>
+    <td>Map of Abary Island</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure147">361</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">148.</td>
+    <td>Abary River, showing High Growth on West Bank</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure148">362</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">149.</td>
+    <td>Spider Lily near Abary Island</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure149">363</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">150.</td>
+    <td>Nest of a Hoatzin in the Mucka-mucka on which these Birds feed</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure150">366</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">151.</td>
+    <td>The Author Photographing Hoatzins</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure151">367</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">152.</td>
+    <td>(A) Female Hoatzin flushed from her nest; the Male Bird approaching</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure152">369</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">153.</td>
+    <td>(B) Female Hoatzin in the same Position, the Male having flown nearer</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure153">370</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">154.</td>
+    <td>(C) Male Hoatzin alarmed and about to take Flight</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure154">372</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">155.</td>
+    <td>(D) Female Hoatzin crouching to avoid Observation</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure155">373</a><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xix"></a>[xix]</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">156.</td>
+    <td>(E) Female Hoatzin taking flight, with wings fully spread; a second pair of birds leaving their nest in the background</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure156">375</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">157.</td>
+    <td>Flock of Eleven Hoatzins</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure157">377</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">158.</td>
+    <td>Crocodiles on a South American River Bank</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure158">380</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">159.</td>
+    <td>Lagoon between Abary Island and River</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure159">382</a></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">160.</td>
+    <td>Young Spur-winged Jacana</td>
+    <td class="tdpg"><a href="#figure160">384</a></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[1]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="PART_I"><span class="smaller">PART I</span><br>
+OUR FIRST SEARCH<br>
+VENEZUELA</h2>
+
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>[2]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure001" style="max-width: 62.5em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure001.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 1.</span></p>
+  <p>MAP OF NORTHEASTERN VENEZUELA</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span></p>
+
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.<br>
+<span class="smaller">THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE.</span></h3>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>One day late in March, just as the tropical sun was
+sinking from view, our barefooted Spanish crew pulled
+up anchor from the muddy bottom of Port of Spain’s harbor.
+Slowly the sails filled, and the spray began to fly from
+the bow as we steered straight into the crimson path of the
+sunset. Behind us the lofty Trinidad ranges glowed softly;
+great velvety peaks and ridges, purpled by distance, gilded
+by the last rays of day. Then the twilight passed swiftly
+as if the sun had been quenched by the waters which covered
+its face; the mountains became merged into the darkness
+of the sky, and the city of busy life behind us melted
+into a linear constellation of twinkling lights.</p>
+
+<p>We had chartered a little sloop of twenty-one tons, the
+“Josefa Jacinta” (<i>Ho-say’fah Hah-seen’tah</i>) manned by a
+captain, a cook and a crew of three. At her masthead
+flew the flag of Venezuela. With a month’s provisions in
+the hold and all the varied paraphernalia of a naturalist,
+we were headed for the northern part of the Orinoco delta
+in search of the primitive wilderness of which we had
+dreamed.</p>
+
+<p>Jamaica, Colon, Savanilla, La Guayra had passed in quick
+succession, and we were surprised to find Trinidad the most
+modern and wide-awake of all. The well-appointed hotels,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[4]</span>
+the trolleys, electric lights, museums, and newspapers of
+Port of Spain, the wireless station even now flashing its
+aërial messages from yonder peak,—all boded ill for our
+search for primeval conditions. Was there no spot left on
+earth, we wondered, which could truthfully be called an
+untrodden wilderness!—jungles untouched by axe or fire,
+where guns had not replaced bows and arrows; where the
+creatures of the wilderness were tame through unfamiliarity
+with human beings!</p>
+
+<p class="tb">The Southern Cross rose and straightened its arms; the
+Pole Star hung low in the north. As the night wore on, an
+ugly sea arose and half buried our little craft in foam and
+spray. A cross-wind disputed our advance and the strong
+tide drove us out of our course. But our captain had navigated
+these waters for more than half a century, and we had
+no fears.</p>
+
+<p>The following day was as wild as the night, and no living
+thing appeared in sky or sea, save a host of milky jelly-fish
+(<i>Stomolophus meleagris</i>). They kept below the surface, and
+seemed to suffer no damage from the roughness of the water.
+In an area of a square yard we counted twenty, and for hour
+after hour we passed through vast masses of them, extending
+to the farthest waves visible on either hand and as deep
+down as our eyes could penetrate—myriads upon myriads
+of these lowly beings, each vibrating with life, and yet unable
+to guide its course against the tide, or to do aught but
+pulsate slowly along.</p>
+
+<p>Later in the day, although the water grew less rough, the
+whole company sank lower in the muddy depths—muddy,
+because the brown waters of the great Orinoco hold sway
+over all this gulf and scatter out at sea the sediment washed
+from the banks far inland.</p>
+
+<p>Finally the storm passed and we saw a blue cloud to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span>
+north, hinting of the great mountain ranges of the Spanish
+Main. Ahead, a low green mist along the horizon told us
+we were nearing shore. This became more and more distinct
+until we could make out individual trees. By noon we
+had left the tumultuous waters of the Gulf of Paria, and were
+floating quietly on a broad stream between two majestic
+walls of green; we had entered our wilderness, and the silence
+and beauty of our reception seemed all the more vivid after
+the noise and turbulence of the wind and water behind us.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp88" id="figure002" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure002.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 2. Our Sloop entering the Mangroves.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Our first impression was of a vast solitude. It was midday,
+and the tide was almost at its height. With limp sails
+we drifted silently onward, not a sound of life coming from
+the green depths about us. We skirted the mangroves
+along the south bank, moving more and more slowly, until
+at last we rested motionless on the water, between the blazing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span>
+sky overhead and the muddy depths beneath. The tide had
+reached its highest, and, like the living creatures of the
+jungle, rested in the midday heat. The captain gave a gruff
+order in Spanish, and the anchor splashed into the water,
+dragging the chain after with a sudden roar and jangle which
+echoed from shore to shore—jarring the silence as would a
+shriek of pain in a cathedral.</p>
+
+<p>A chatter came from the mangroves near at hand, and
+high up among the dense foliage we saw the first life of the
+continent—a wistful little human face gazing out at us,
+a capuchin monkey striving with wrinkled brows to make
+out what we were. At his call two others came and looked;
+then, as our sail came down with a rattle of halyards, the
+trio fled through the branches with all the speed which four
+hands and a tail could lend.</p>
+
+<p>We spent the afternoon in getting our floating home ready
+for use. No more waves would be encountered, so everything
+was unlashed. Stereo-glasses, camera-plates, and ammunition
+were placed ready to hand; the galley stove was
+moved far forward, and a mosquito-proof tent of netting was
+erected under the tarpaulin in the stern.</p>
+
+<p>The sun had sunk low in the west when we saw a long,
+narrow dug-out canoe coming downstream. An Indian
+woman and her baby were crouched in the bow, while in the
+stern a naked Indian paddled swiftly and silently. His skin
+shone like coppery bronze in the sunlight, his long black hair
+was bound back from his face by a thong of hide. In front
+of him rested a bow and arrows and a long fish-spear. Silently
+he approached and in silence he passed—unheeding our
+salutations.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp97" id="figure003" style="max-width: 40.625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure003.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 3. Scarlet Ibises in Flight.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span></p>
+
+<p>One more beauty of this wild wonderland was vouchsafed
+us before night fell. We had been disappointed in the birds.
+Where were the myriads of water-fowl of which we had
+heard? We had seen nothing—not a single feather. But
+now the scene slowly changed. The tide was falling
+rapidly, swirling and eddying past the boat, and the roots
+of the mangroves began to protrude, their long stems shining
+black until the water dried from them. Mud-flats appeared,
+and suddenly, without warning, a living flame passed us—and
+we had seen our first Scarlet Ibis<span class="bird"><a href="#bird27">27</a></span>.<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p>
+
+<p>Past the dark green background of mangrove foliage the
+magnificent bird flew swiftly—flaming with a brilliance
+which shamed any pigment of human art. Blood red,
+intensest vermilion, deepest scarlet—all fail to hint of the
+living color of the bird. Before we could recover from our
+delight a flock of twenty followed, flying close together, with
+bills and feet scarlet like the plumage. They swerved from
+their path and alighted on the mud close to the mangroves,
+and began feeding at once. Then a trio of snowy-white
+Egrets<span class="bird"><a href="#bird32">32</a></span> with trailing plumes floated overhead; others appeared
+above the tops of the trees; a host of tiny Sandpipers skimmed
+the surface of the water and scurried over the flats. Great
+Cocoi Herons<span class="bird"><a href="#bird31">31</a></span> swept majestically into view; Curlews and
+Plover<span class="bird"><a href="#bird18">18</a></span> assembled in myriads, lining the mud-flats at the
+water’s edge, while here and there, like jets of flame against
+the mud, walked the vermilion Ibises. Terns<span class="bird"><a href="#bird14">14</a></span> with great
+yellow bills flew about the sloop, and Skimmers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird17">17</a></span> ploughed
+the surface of the tide in endless furrows. Macaws<span class="bird"><a href="#bird61">61</a></span> began
+to pass, shrieking as they flew, two and two together—and
+then night closed quickly over all. From the zenith the sun
+had looked down upon a stream as quiet as death; it sank
+upon a scene full of the animation of a myriad forms of life.</p>
+
+<p>As dusk settled down and hid the shore from our eyes,
+another sense was aroused, and to our ears came the sounds
+of night in these tropical jungles—a thousand cries, moans,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span>
+crashes; all mysterious—unexplainable. In time we became
+so accustomed to them that we could distinguish repetitions
+and details, but this first night brought only a confused
+chorus of delightful mystery, now broken by a moment of
+silence, now rising to an awe-inspiring climax. One sound
+only remained clear in our memory, often repeated, now
+uttered in lower, now in higher tones—a terrible choking
+sigh. It might have been the last death gasp of some
+great monkey, or the pitiful utterance of hopelessness of a
+madman.</p>
+
+<p>With the turn of the tide we raised anchor and drifted
+through the night—mile after mile for six hours, and then
+anchored again. And thus it was that we came to our
+wilderness.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">Not until we had been in the mangrove jungle for many
+days did we begin to realize its vastness, its mystery, its
+primeval character. Just four hundred and ten years ago
+Christopher Columbus sailed through the gulf we had left
+and gazed on the dark forest in the heart of which we
+now were. Throughout the whole extent of the mangrove
+wilderness we found no hint that conditions were not as
+they were in 1498.</p>
+
+<p>One of the most astonishing things about the mangrove
+forest is the apparent diversity of its plant life. Until one
+actually comes within reach of trunk and leaves it is impossible
+to believe that all this forest is composed of a single
+species of plant. The foliage of some of the trees is light, of
+others dark; here stands a clump of pale beechlike trunks,
+there a dark, rough-barked individual is seen. The manner
+of growth of the young and old trees is so different that a
+confusion of mingled trees, shrubs, and vines seems to confront
+one. But everywhere the mangrove reigns supreme.
+It is the only vegetable growth which can gain a footing in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span>
+this world of salt water. In fact, it makes its own footing,
+entangling and holding mud and débris about its stems, and
+ever blindly reaching out dangling roots, like the legs of
+gigantic spiders.</p>
+
+<p>Far out on the tip of a lofty branch a mangrove seed will
+germinate, before it falls assuming the appearance of a
+loaded club from eight to fifteen inches in length. One day
+it lets go and drops like a plummet into the soft mud, where
+it sticks upright. Soon the tide rises, and if there is too
+strong a current the young plant is swept away, to perish
+far out at sea; but if it can maintain its hold, roots soon
+spring out, and the ideal of the mangrove is realized, the
+purpose for which all this interesting phenomena is intended:
+the forest has gained a few yards, and mud and leaves will
+soon choke out the intervening water.</p>
+
+<p>The mangroves have still another method of gaining new
+territory. Aërial roots are thrown out from branches high
+in air, swinging downward and outward with a curve which
+sometimes wins three or four yards ahead. Like hawsers
+thrown from a vessel to a wharf these roots clutch at the mud
+beneath, but where the current runs swiftly they swing and
+dangle in vain, until they have grown so heavy that they
+touch bottom some distance downstream. We made use of
+these dangling roots as anchors for our canoe, bending the
+elastic unattached end upward and springing it over the
+gunwale.</p>
+
+<p>Throughout all this great region there is not a foot of solid
+ground. In one place we pushed a tall shoot some eight feet
+in height straight down through the mud, and it went out of
+sight. A man falling on this mud, out of reach of aid, would
+vanish as in a quick-sand. So the wild creatures of the
+mangroves must either swim, fly, or climb. No terrestrial
+beings can exist there. We once selected a favorable place,
+and for fifty yards made our way over the roots and branches
+before exhaustion and an impassable gap of mud and water
+stopped all progress. As never before we realized how safe
+from man are the denizens of these strange swamps. Monkeys
+fled swiftly before us, birds rose and flew overhead,
+while we painfully crept and pulled ourselves along over the
+slippery stems.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure004" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure004.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 4. Young Mangrove Plants.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span></p>
+
+<p>More wonderful even than the coral polyps are these mangroves,
+for by this plant alone all this region has been rescued
+from the sea and built up into land. In future years, as the
+mud banks become higher and are fertilized by the ever-falling
+leaves, other growths will appear, and finally the coast
+of the continent will be thus extended by many scores of
+miles of fertile soil.</p>
+
+<p>A network of narrow channels stretches through this
+wilderness and allowed us to explore the far interior in our
+shallow curiara or dug-out. Thus we spent days and weeks
+in search of the creatures which lived in this land of a single
+tree, and here we learned how delightful the climate of such
+a region can be. Every night we slept under blankets, and
+during the day the temperature ranged from 66° at five and
+six o’clock in the morning to about 86° at noon, although we
+were within nine degrees of the equator.<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> One could paddle
+all day with more comfort than on a hot summer day in the
+north. By day mosquitoes were generally absent, and only a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span>
+few biting flies reminded us of the “terrible insect scourges”
+of the tropics. Life was delightfully new and strange, with
+the spice of danger ever attendant upon the exploration of
+unknown lands.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp45" id="figure005" style="max-width: 18.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure005.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 5. The Crucifix in the Catfish.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The fishes attracted our attention from the first. When
+we came on deck before sunrise for a plunge, our little vessel
+would be surrounded by hosts of catfish (<i>Pseudaucheniplerus
+nodosus</i>) all, like our sloop, headed upstream against the tide.
+They would bite indifferently at bait, a bit of cloth, or a bare
+hook, and were delicious eating. On the bottom our hooks
+would sometimes be taken by great fierce-whiskered cats,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span>
+bedecked with long streamers, which gave no end of trouble
+before they were quieted. They were pale yellow, and the
+head and back were encased in bone; Maestro—the cook—called
+them the crucifix fish, and later showed us why. On
+the under surface of the bony armor is a large cross with a
+halo about it just above the arms. The crew never caught
+one of these fish without making the sign of the cross in their
+right palm.</p>
+
+<p>When the tide was half down the funniest of puff-fishes
+(<i>Calomesus psittacus</i>), or tambourines as the Captain called
+them, would take our bait. They were from three to five
+inches long, white below, and pale greenish above crossed
+by seven black bands, the first across the mouth and the
+seventh at the tip of the caudal fin. There was also a black
+patch at the base of the pectoral fins. The iris was bright
+lemon yellow. When gently scratched on the lower parts,
+or sometimes even when just lifted from the water they
+would swell up into a round ball. They were covered with
+short, stiff bristles which stood on end when the fish was inflated,
+and their comical appearance was increased by the four
+rodent-like incisor teeth in the front of the mouth. When
+thus inflated with air they were helpless for a time, and if
+thrown back, floated belly upward at the mercy of the wind
+and current, until they were able to collapse to normal size.</p>
+
+<p>On one of our first excursions among the mangroves in our
+small canoe we made a most interesting discovery. Here
+and there, sprawled out on the mud-flats, were small crocodiles,
+and occasionally a large one would rush off into the
+water at our approach. Hugging the edge of the tide where
+the ripples lapped back and forth on the black ooze were many
+other living creatures. For a long time we could not make
+them out, but finally, drifting silently upon a whole school,
+we knew them for four-eyed fish (<i>Anableps anableps</i>)—strange
+creatures which we had hoped to see.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure006" style="max-width: 21.875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure006.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 6. Parrot Puff-fish.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>We came to a tiny bayou, shaped like a bottle, from which
+four Little Blue Herons<span class="bird"><a href="#bird34">34</a></span> flew as we approached. We placed
+our dug-out corklike athwart the mouth and anchored with
+our crossed paddles. The air was warm, bees hummed
+about the tiny four-parted flowers of the mangroves, and a
+great blue morpho butterfly flapped past, mirrored in the
+water beneath. Then came tragedy—never far off in this
+land of superabundant life. A small clay-colored crocodile
+made a sudden rush at a ripple, and a quartet of four-eyes
+shot from the water in frantic fear. One was slower than the
+rest, and the fierce jaws of the diminutive reptile just grazed
+him. Another fell back downward in the ooze, and in a
+twinkling was caught and dragged into the depths. No
+wonder the poor little four-eyes are ever on the lookout for
+danger and spend most of their time where they merge with
+the ripples along the shore, when such enemies are on the
+watch for them!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span></p>
+
+<p>A whir of wings sounded, and a Kingfisher<span class="bird"><a href="#bird69">69</a></span> alighted within
+arm’s reach. But such a Kingfisher!—the veriest mite, clad
+in a robe of brilliant emerald and orange. So small was he
+that it seemed as if the tiniest of minnows must choke him.
+He seemed to be of the same opinion, for while we watched
+him he caught only the insects which passed him in mid-air
+or which were floating on the water.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure007" style="max-width: 25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure007.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 7. Four-eyed Fish.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>By far the most numerous, and in their way the most
+interesting of the mangroves’ inhabitants, were the crabs.
+There were untold millions of them, all small, all active and
+keen of vision. If we sat quietly, they would appear from
+everywhere, peeping out like little gnomes from their perches
+on the mangroves, forever playing their noiseless little fiddles.
+These tiny tree-folk not only played, but danced. Let us
+picture a scene constantly enacted, so close to us that we
+could all but touch the performers. Two crabs approach
+each other, now fiddling vigorously, now waving their diminutive
+pincers back and forth over their heads as a ballet-dancer
+waves her arms. They move never in straight lines,
+but sideways, now running back a few steps, now forward,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span>
+until at last they meet, and each grasping the other’s claws,
+raises them aloft, and then for five minutes they circle about
+in most ludicrous imitation of a waltz. All this usually takes
+place on the <i>lower</i> surface of a mangrove trunk, the inverted
+position apparently making no less secure the footing of the
+little dancers. We could not decide whether this performance
+was in the nature of courtship or just pure play.</p>
+
+<p>What we did discover concerning the lives of these crabs
+was full of interest. Hundreds of the smallest-sized ones
+lived in holes in the mud, and when the tide went down they
+came out and ran about—intent on some all-important business
+of their little existence. Another class of larger individuals
+had their holes near the roots of the mangroves, one
+(rarely two) good-sized crab apparently taking possession of
+each root. Here he disported himself, running up and down,
+from the water into the air with no change in speed, and here,
+strangest of all, he grew to resemble his home root. There
+was as great diversity among the roots as among the larger
+trunks—whitish, black, mottled, and all intervening shades.
+It was a fact, of which we had hundreds of daily proofs, that
+the crabs were so like their particular root that often we could
+not detect the quiescent crustacean when within a foot of our
+faces.</p>
+
+<p>There was one group of five black roots forming a rough
+circle about a single mottled root. As we approached, a
+crab ran down each stalk into the water, and as we peered
+down and saw them go into their holes, we could at a glance
+tell the mottled crab from the five black ones. Even the roots
+which were as yet a foot or more above the bottom mud
+each had their occupant, which thus had to swim upward
+from his hole before he could grasp his swaying perch.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure008" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure008.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 8. Our Floating Home at La Ceiba.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>A third class of crabs lived among the higher trunks and
+branches of the mangroves, and, except where there was
+a highroad of some large trunk dipping into the water, these<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span>
+less fortunate fellows had to scamper in frantic haste up the
+roots of their larger brethren. The indignant owner would
+rush at the trespasser with uplifted pincers, sometimes forcing
+him to leap for his life. Where an unusually large tree
+was frequented by many crabs, their carapaces bore a close
+resemblance to its pattern and hue, but among these more
+aërial and roving crabs the mimicry was, on the whole, less
+striking than among the sedentary class. In the latter, protective
+coloration was carried to a greater degree of perfection
+than I have ever seen it elsewhere. These were loath to
+leave their roots and swim, preferring to run swiftly down until
+they reached the mud. This habit made it easy to catch them,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span>
+merely by taking the end of the root aboard and shaking it,
+when the unsuspecting crab would rush down in all haste into
+a pail or jar held at the bottom.</p>
+
+<p>They have many enemies, not only among fish, reptiles, and
+birds, but even some of the mammals, such as opossums and
+monkeys, catch and devour them in large numbers. We
+saw a beautiful Hawk,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird54">54</a></span> bright chestnut in color, with a pale
+creamy head and black throat, dashing at them and skilfully
+catching the unfortunate crabs in one outstretched
+foot.</p>
+
+<p>Scores of other beings of still more lowly degree swarmed
+about us, but as the tide lapped out of our little bayou, the
+four-eyes again attracted our attention. They began to get
+restless, swimming back and forth and shuffling over the mud,
+until at last in desperation at the ebbing of their element, they
+made a dash to get past us into the open water of the caño.
+Some dived, but so buoyant are they that they can scarcely
+stay below a second, and soon popped up on the surface again.
+Others scrambled, rolled, and squirmed along over the ooze on
+each side of us, many making good progress and escaping.
+We caught several and placed them in an aquarium for study.
+When hard pressed in deep water these curious fish progress
+by a series of leaps—up on their tail end and down again,
+up and down again, describing a series of curves and making
+very fast time.</p>
+
+<p>When examined closely we see that these fish have only two
+eyes, but these are divided in such a way that there appear
+to be double that number. There are two distinct pupils, one
+elevated above the head like the eyes of a frog, the other
+separated by a band of tissue and below the water-line. So
+when the fish floats in its normal position at the surface the
+upper pupils, fitted for vision in the air, watch for danger
+above, while the lower pair keeps a submarine lookout for
+insect food and aquatic enemies.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span></p>
+
+<p>Monkeys are perfectly at home in this land of branches,
+the ever-cautious capuchins and now and then a long-limbed
+spider monkey swinging through the trees with as easy a
+motion as the flight of a bird. Biggest of all are the great
+red howlers, who keep to the deeper, more narrow channels,
+and in the evening and again at dawn send their voices to the
+farthest limits of the mangroves. They do not howl, they
+roar, and the sound is perfectly suited to such a wilderness
+as this. Before the first signs of day light up the east, a low,
+soft moaning comes through the forest, like the forewarning
+of a storm through pine trees. This gains in volume and
+depth until it becomes a roar. It is no wind now, nor like
+anything one ever hears in the north; it is a deep, grating,
+rumbling roar—a voice of the tropics; a hint of the long-past
+ages when speech was yet unformed. We grew to love the
+rhythm of this wild music, and it will always be for us the
+memory-awakening sound of the tropical wilderness.</p>
+
+<p>The wealth of life in this region was evident when we
+began to explore a river flowing down from the highlands
+in the far-distant interior of Venezuela. One could spend
+a year here and not begin to exhaust the wonders on every
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>With every high tide the Captain would pull up anchor and
+shift our craft a little upstream, until at last our keel touched
+bottom and we could go no farther. We anchored firmly
+and buoyed ourselves by ropes to the nearest trees so as to
+keep on an even keel. This, our home for a time, was in a
+little bight of the Guarapiche (<i>War-ah-pee’chy</i>) River, where
+two tumbled-down, long deserted Indian huts still retained
+the name of La Ceiba. We were so close to the left bank
+that at low tide we could walk ashore on oars laid down
+over the mud. Here the birds came and fed and bathed,
+here the howling monkeys roared over our very heads and
+Macaws swung and shrieked at us.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="figure009" style="max-width: 29.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure009.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 9. Exploring the Caños in a Dug-out.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span></p>
+
+<p>One night, during a heavy downpour of rain, we were suddenly
+awakened by a medley of cries, imprecations, shrieks and
+yells. Flashing the strong electric bulb we saw through the
+sheets of rain a very large curiara run afoul of our shore line;
+piled high with luggage, with several screaming women
+perched high on the bundles and boxes. Four pigs, tied feet
+upward, swelled the chorus in their fear of a watery grave and
+four men told us what they thought of us in the present and
+where they hoped we would spend the future centuries until
+the world’s end. Our Captain was out of his hammock in a
+moment and in tremendous basso profundo he silenced all,
+save the pigs, and rapidly gave directions to our crew to row
+upstream against the swirling current, clear the curiara and
+shift it outside the danger zone. Between breaths, he incidentally
+described minutely to the terrified natives what he
+knew would be the ultimate fate of such fools as tried to
+descend a river on the wrong side. It was a miracle that the
+whole outfit did not overturn—a narrow dug-out, measuring
+about twenty feet in length by two in width, striking full
+force against a rope in the blackness of the storm.</p>
+
+<p>Early in the morning the roaring of the monkeys would
+awaken us, and after a hasty breakfast we would start out in
+our little boat. At this time everything is dripping and
+fresh with dew, and there is a bite and tang in the air which
+reminds us of Canadian dawns. It is still dusk, and the
+lines of mangroves on either side show only as black walls.
+For some minutes hardly a sound breaks the stillness except
+the distant roars and the drip, drip of our paddles. Then a
+sudden splashing and breaking of branches shows that we
+are discovered by a pair or more of capybaras (<i>Hydrochoerus
+capybara</i>), those enormous rodents which would pass as
+guinea pigs in Gulliver’s land of giants. Now an overhanging
+branch drenches us as we brush against it, and as it is
+pushed aside a whole armful of orchids comes away, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span>
+pure white blossoms (<i>Epidendrum fragrans</i>) filling the caño
+with their sweetness. Now the delicate foliage of a palm is
+silhouetted for a moment against the brightening eastern sky,
+and a mass of great convolvulus blossoms shines out from
+the shore. By this we know that we are not many miles
+from dry ground, and other growths are already beginning to
+dispute the dominance of the mangroves.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure010" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure010.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 10. White Orchids.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Silence again, to be broken by one of the most remarkable
+and startling outbursts of sound which any living creature
+in the world can utter. A series of unconnected sighs,
+shrieks, screams, and metallic trumpet-like notes suddenly
+breaking forth apparently within thirty feet, is surely excuse
+enough for being startled. The hubbub ceases as abruptly
+as it began; then again it breaks out, now seeming to come
+from all directions, even from overhead. The author of all<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span>
+this is the Chachalaca<span class="bird"><a href="#bird7">7</a></span>—a bird not larger than a common
+fowl, but with a longer tail. It spends most of its time on
+the ground or among the lower branches of the trees in the
+swamps. It was seldom that we caught sight of one, but we
+shall never forget the first time we heard their diabolical
+chorus.</p>
+
+<p>The sun’s rays now light up the narrow path of water ahead
+of us, and a thousand creatures seem to awaken and give
+voice at once. Two splendid Yellow and Blue Macaws<span class="bird"><a href="#bird61">61</a></span> fly
+high overhead, their screams softened by the distance; a
+flock of great white-billed, Red-crested Woodpeckers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird88">88</a></span> drum
+and call; from the bank comes the rolling cry of the Tinamou
+and the sweet, penetrating double note of the Sun-bittern<span class="bird"><a href="#bird24">24</a></span>;
+Hummingbirds squeak in their flight as they shake
+the dew-drops from the orchids above us; squirrels with fur
+of orange and gray scramble through the branches, fleeing
+before the little capuchin monkeys. Then, one after another,
+three splendid Swallow-tailed Kites<span class="bird"><a href="#bird58">58</a></span> dash past us at full
+speed, brushing the surface of the water and floating upward
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Swallows,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird119">119</a></span> emerald and white, catch the flies which hover
+near us; a big yellow-breasted Flycatcher alights for a moment
+on the bow of our boat—and a tropical day is fairly begun.
+These and a hundred other creatures about us bathe, sing,
+and seek their food during the fresh hours of early morning.
+Then, as the sun rises higher and its heat draws a hush over
+all, the notes of the birds die away, leaving the insect vocalists
+supreme. Butterflies click here and there, a loud humming
+tells of huge wasps winging their way on murderous missions,
+but above all rises the chant of the cicadas. The commonest
+of these grinds out harsh, reverberating tones—whir-r-r-r-r-r!
+wh-r-r! wh-r-r! wh-r-r! wh-r-r! rolling the r’s in the first
+utterance for a minute or more, then ending in a series of
+short, abrupt whirs.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span></p>
+
+<p>Then another cicada, a giant species, sends his call through
+the jungle; he has two strings to his bow, one a half-note
+higher than the other, and on these he plays for five minutes
+at a time. It is Chinese music to the very tone. Sometimes
+his tune ends in a rising shriek, and we know that one
+of the big blue wasps has descended on him and stabbed him
+in the midst of his love-song.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure011" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure011.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 11. Sun-bittern.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The day wears on, and even the cicadas become quiet.
+The sun is overhead and the air full of tropical heat. In the
+shade it is always comfortable, and in the full glare of the sun
+one perspires so freely that the heat is hardly felt.</p>
+
+<p>As we paddle lazily along, a great Tegu Lizard (<i>Teius
+nigropunctatas</i>) scrambles slowly along the bank; now crawling
+over a muddy expanse, now taking to the water to avoid a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span>
+bushy tangle, folding back his legs and swimming with long
+graceful sweeps of his tail. As we watch him he leaps at
+several little crabs and catches them before they can escape
+into their holes.</p>
+
+<p>We eat our luncheon in the shade of a clay bank, the first
+hint of dry land we have seen along the caño, and here we
+watch the little crocodiles basking in the sun and the crabs
+scuttling over the mud. A bird of iridescent green and
+orange swoops down to our very faces, and hangs swinging
+in a loop of a tiny liana on the face of the bank. The next
+instant it vanishes into the earth, darting into a hole hardly
+larger than the crab-holes around it. We have found the
+home of a Jacamar.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird86">86</a></span> At the end of the short tunnel are
+four round white eggs laid on the bare clay.</p>
+
+<p>While examining the nest we hear at our very feet the
+terrible night noise—the muffled choking sigh which has
+come to us every night since we entered the mangrove wilderness.
+We are standing in our narrow dug-out, which the
+least movement will overturn, and for an instant it is indeed
+a question whether we can control ourselves enough to keep
+it from filling. Now the mystery solves itself as a large
+anaconda (<i>Eunectes murinus</i>) nine or ten feet long, slowly
+winds out from a hole in the bank beneath the surface of
+the water and slips into the depths of the muddy current.
+Then the tide laps a little lower, and a big bubble of air,
+caught in the entrance of the serpent’s lair, frees itself with
+a sudden gasping sob. When the tide is rising or falling
+over these large openings in the mud, the air escapes from
+time to time with the terrifying sound which has so long
+puzzled us. Our mysterious nocturnal creature is thus
+explained away in the prosaic light of day.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp97" id="figure012" style="max-width: 40.625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure012.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 12. Solution of the Mangrove Mystery—an Anaconda.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span></p>
+
+<p>An hour later as our dug-out rounds a sharp bend in the
+caño, there comes to our ears a series of rasping cries—hoarse
+and creaking as of unoiled wheels. The glasses show
+a flock of large, brown, fowl-like birds in a clump of bushes
+overhanging the water. Their barred wings and tall, delicate
+crests tell us that they are the bird of all others which we had
+hoped to see and study. We are floating within a hundred
+feet of a flock of Hoatzins<span class="bird"><a href="#bird11">11</a></span>—the strange reptile-like, living
+fossils which are found only in this part of the world, and
+which are closely related to no other living bird.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure013" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure013.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 13. Hoatzins in the Bamboos on the Guarapiche.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>As we draw near, the birds flutter through the foliage as if
+their wings were broken. We find that this is their usual
+mode of progression, and for a most interesting reason.
+Soon after the young Hoatzins are hatched and while yet
+unfledged they are able to leave the nest and climb about the
+branches, and in this they are greatly aided by the use of the
+wings as arms and hands. The three fingers of the wing are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span>
+each armed with a reptile-like claw, and at the approach of
+danger the birds climb actively about like squirrels or lizards.</p>
+
+<p>It has usually been thought that when they grow up they
+lose all these reptilian habits and behave as conventional feathered
+bipeds should. But we find that while, of course, the
+fingers are deeply hidden beneath the long flight-feathers of
+the wing, yet these very feathers are often used, fingerlike, in
+forcing aside thick vines, the birds thus clambering and pushing
+their way along.</p>
+
+<p>It was with the keenest delight of the pioneer and discoverer
+that we watched these rare creatures. Although
+they do not nest until July and August, yet we found them in
+the very trees and bushes which held the remains of last year’s
+nests, thus revealing their sedentary life during the rest of
+the year. And day after day and week after week we learned
+to know that they would be found in this or that tree and
+nowhere else; they were veritable feathered sloths. They
+fed chiefly upon leaves, but fish also entered into the bill of
+fare of at least one individual.</p>
+
+<p>We shot two, one for the skin and the other for the skeleton,
+and we found the plumage in a very worn and ragged condition,
+the wing feathers especially so, where the branches and
+leaves had rubbed and worn away the barbs. Throughout
+the noonday heat these birds were always to be found in the
+foliage overhanging the water, ready when disturbed to flop
+and thrash a few yards through the mangroves and bamboos.</p>
+
+<p>After many days of pure delight, our note-books filled and
+our photographic plates more than half gone, we decided to
+see something of the Venezuelan dry land. We would go on
+and on until we had left the mangroves with all their unpeopled
+mystery behind us, and see what new surprises the
+villages of the Guarauno (<i>War-ah-oo’no</i>) Indians and the
+jungles of the foot-hills would afford.</p>
+
+<p>At nine o’clock one night, when the stars alone cast a faint<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span>
+weird light over everything, we sent two of the crew ahead
+in the rowboat to keep our bow straight, and then began a
+long night of noiseless drifting with the tide. It was a night
+to remain forever in our memory. The men relieved their
+monotonous towing with strange wailing chants; on each side
+the mangroves slipped past, black and menacing; invisible
+creatures snorted and splashed in sudden terror as we
+rounded each turn; great fireflies burned on the trees and were
+reflected in the water, and to our ears came the roars of the
+four-handed folk, the calls and screams of night birds, the
+metallic clinks of insects, and ever the gasps and chokings
+of the serpents’ burrows—hardly less sinister now that we
+had solved their mystery.</p>
+
+<p>Throughout all the night we passed up one caño, down
+another, past miles and miles of black foliage, all alike to us,
+almost indistinguishable in the starlight, yet early next morning
+as we rose to rout the cloud of mosquitoes about our
+head nets, the captain said in his soft Spanish tongue, “The
+mountains of my country should be in sight ahead.” And,
+indeed, an hour later, as the day dawned, we could discern
+the blue haze in the north which marked the high land out.</p>
+
+<p>Toucans, big Muscovy Ducks<span class="bird"><a href="#bird43">43</a></span> and Snakebirds<span class="bird"><a href="#bird48">48</a></span> flew past
+us; great brown Woodpeckers and flights of Parrakeets swung
+across the caño; dolphins played around us, but we heeded
+them little, all eager to press on and see the new land.</p>
+
+<p>So we sat far up in the bow and watched the mountains take
+form and the palms upon them become ever more distinct.
+From a land of mystery untrodden by man, we were soon to
+come upon a bit of land so prized by man that nations had
+almost gone to war over it—La Brea (<i>Bray’ah</i>) the strange
+lake of pitch hidden in the heart of the forest, with its strange
+birds and fish and animals; lying on the borderland between
+the foot-hills of the northern Andes and the world of mangroves
+which for many days had held us so safely in its heart.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure014" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure014.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 14. First Glimpse of the Venezuelan Mountains.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span></p>
+
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.<br>
+<span class="smaller">THE LAKE OF PITCH.</span></h3>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>Heretofore we had sailed and paddled through a
+land of mangroves and water, where, with the exception
+of one or two tiny muddy islets in the forest, there was
+no solid ground. One day the last of innumerable turns of
+a narrow <i>caño</i> brought our sloop in sight of real earth—the
+first dry land of eastern Venezuela. A rough wooden wharf
+supporting a narrow-gauge line of rails appeared, and beyond
+rose a steep hill, dotted here and there with little thatched
+huts, each clinging to a niche scooped out of the clay. We
+were at the village of Guanoco (<i>Wah-no’co</i>), the shipping
+point of the pitch lake. A few steps beyond the last hut and
+one was in the primeval forest—so limited is man’s influence
+in this region of rapidly growing plants.</p>
+
+<p>For five miles the little toy rails zigzagged their uneven way
+through the jungle. On one side was swamp, into which one
+could penetrate but a short distance before encountering the
+advance-guard of the mangroves, the front of the vast host
+which stretched eastward mile after mile to the sea. West
+of the track the land rose ten or twenty feet in many places,
+but even where level it soon lost its swampy character. At
+the end of the line the strange pitch lake itself appeared
+as a great plain, on the borderland between low swamps and
+the foot-hills of the mountains. This was our tramping-ground,
+and we found it a veritable wonderland of birds and
+beasts and flowers.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp88" id="figure015" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure015.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 15. Colony of 150 Cassiques’ Nests in One Tree.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>One of the first things which attracted our attention were the
+Orioles or Cassiques<span class="bird"><a href="#bird151">151</a></span>—great black and yellow beauties with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span>
+long whitish beaks and an infinitely varied vocabulary. In
+the north our eyes are gladdened by the sight of a single pair
+of Orioles flying about their nest in the elm; here in a single tree
+there were sometimes over one hundred and fifty inhabited
+nests, most of which were two feet or more in length. The
+more we watched these birds the more interesting they
+became. They showed a real intelligence in the selection of
+a site for their nests. Monkeys, tree-snakes, opossums, and
+other bird-eating creatures were abundant hereabouts, and
+for a colony of these conspicuous birds to conceal their nests
+successfully would be impossible. So their homes are swung
+out in full view of all. But one or two precautions are always
+taken. Either the birds choose a solitary tree which fairly
+overhangs some thatched hut, or else the colony is clustered<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span>
+close about one of the great wasps’ nests which are seen here
+and there high up among the branches of the forest.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp52" id="figure016" style="max-width: 21.875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure016.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 16. Nest and Eggs of Yellow-backed Cassique.</span></p>
+
+<p>Observe the Extra Shelter Roof. The lower opening was made to show
+the egg chamber.</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The Indians and native Venezuelans never trouble the
+birds, which have been quick to realize and take advantage
+of this fact, and weave their nests and care for their young
+almost within arm’s reach of the thatched roofs. No monkey
+dares venture here, and the mongrel dogs keep off all
+the small nocturnal carnivores.</p>
+
+<p>But a colony of Cassiques which chooses to live in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span>
+jungle itself would have short shrift, were it not for the
+strange communal guardianship of the wasps. These insects
+are usually large and venomous, and one sting would be
+enough to kill a bird; indeed, a severe fever often ensues
+when a man has been stung by half a dozen. So the birds
+must in some way be immune to the attacks of the wasps.
+Perhaps their wonderfully complete armor of feathers, scales,
+and horny beak accounts for this, while their quickness of
+vision and of action enables them to save their eyelids—their
+one unprotected spot. Although the Cassiques cannot
+have learned from experience of the terrible wounds which
+the wasps can inflict, yet they are keenly alive to the advantages
+to be derived from close association with them.</p>
+
+<p>The wasp’s nest is built far out on the tip of the limb of
+some forest tree, and the long pendent homes of the Cassiques
+are placed close to it, sometimes eight or ten on the same
+branch, and others on neighboring limbs, so near that the
+homes of insects and birds rattle against each other when
+the wind blows.</p>
+
+<p>One such community was placed rather near the ground,
+where we could watch the inhabitants closely. Frequently
+when one or two of the big birds returned to their nests with
+a rush and a headlong plunge into the entrance, the whole
+branch shook violently. Yet the wasps showed no excitement
+or alarm; their subdued buzzing did not rise in tone.
+But when I reached up and moved the branch gently downward,
+the angry hum which came forth sent me into the underbrush
+in haste. From a safe distance I could see the wasps
+circling about in quick spurts which meant trouble to any
+intruder, while the excited Cassiques squeaked and screamed
+their loudest. Whether the slight motion I gave to the
+branch was unusual enough to arouse the insects, or whether
+they took their cue from the cries and actions of the alarmed
+birds, I cannot say.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[36]</span></p>
+
+<p>The nests are beautifully woven, of very tough palm leaf
+shreds and grass stems, in shape like tall vases, bulging
+at the bottom to give room for the eggs and young birds,
+and with an entrance at the side near the top. We found
+still another instance of the unusual ability of these birds
+to adapt themselves to changing conditions. Those nests
+which were already deserted or with young ready to fly had
+simple rounded tops arching over to protect the entrance
+from the sun; but in the nests which were in process of construction,
+now at the beginning of the rainy season in early
+April, there appeared an additional chamber with a dense
+roof of thatch, in which one of the parents, the male at least
+in one case, passed the nights, safe from the torrents of
+sudden rain.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp64" id="figure017" style="max-width: 18.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure017.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 17. Venezuelan Tree Porcupine.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Another larger species of Cassique,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird150">150</a></span> dull green in color,
+built solitary nests, three feet or more in length, but seldom
+near the homes of men or wasps. Here and there in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>[37]</span>
+jungle some lofty tree raised its huge white bole free of vine
+and liana, and smooth as a marble column, towering far
+above all its fellows; and out on the very tip of one of its
+swaying branches the nest was woven—safe from all tree-climbing
+enemies. The notes of these birds were like deep
+resonant cowbells, ringing through the jungle, clear and
+metallic.</p>
+
+<p>During our stay in the village of Guanoco we had abundant
+opportunity to observe the relations of a tiny hamlet like
+this to the great world of primeval nature all around. The
+jungle pressed close, instantly filling any neglected corner
+with a tangle of vines and shrubs, ever ready to sweep over
+all and reforest the little clearings about the huts.</p>
+
+<p>Sloths were rare near the village, as it had long been a
+favorite Sunday amusement to go out and bring in one or
+more of these defenceless creatures for dinner. But tree
+porcupines (<i>Sphingurus prehensilis</i>), with bare, prehensile
+tails and faces like little manatees, were common, as were
+those gentle little creatures of the night, kinkajous (<i>Cercoleptes
+caudivolvulus</i>), or “couchi-couchis” as the Indians
+call them. Catching porcupines and sloths is about as
+exciting sport as picking blackberries; the porcupine being
+too confident in its battery of spines to attempt to escape;
+the sloth relying with pathetic faith on its wonderful resemblance
+to a bunch of moss or leaves.</p>
+
+<p>The “English Sparrows” of the village were beautiful
+olive-green Palm Tanagers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird144">144</a></span> and great sulphur-breasted
+Flycatchers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird102">102</a></span> which shrieked <i>Kiss-ka-dee!</i> at you as you
+passed by. The French in Trinidad tell you that the bird
+says <i>Qu’est-ce-qu’il-dit?</i> but the Spaniard, true to his poetic
+temperament, says, “<i>No, Señor, el pájaro dice ‘Cristofué!’</i>”
+which seemed especially appropriate at this Easter
+season.</p>
+
+<p>Every day one or two wild Chachalacas<span class="bird"><a href="#bird7">7</a></span> would fly from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>[38]</span>
+the jungle to an open space near one of the huts and feed
+fearlessly with the chickens for an hour or longer.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure018" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure018.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 18. Wild Chachalaca near a Guanoco Hut.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>To our northern minds the most remarkable thing was the
+innumerable variety of all forms of life. Seldom did we find
+many individuals of any one species, but always there was a
+constantly changing panorama. We would make a careful
+list of birds seen near our house, noting certain ones for
+future study, and the following day scarcely one of these
+would be visible, but in their place birds of strange form and
+colors. The same was true of the insects and the result
+was as bewildering as it was fascinating. Our habits of
+observation had all to be changed. Except when birds were
+actually nesting, we could never be sure of seeing the same
+species twice, although there was never any doubt that each
+day would add many new forms to our lists.</p>
+
+<p>Though we tramped for miles along the narrow Indian
+trails and spent many days in swamps and dark jungles, yet<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[39]</span>
+we were troubled scarcely at all with noxious insects. “Jiggers”
+there were in moderate numbers but one could “collect”
+more in one day in Virginia than in a month here at this
+season. During our entire stay we saw only about three
+or four minute ticks, while mosquitoes were absent, except
+at night. If we dug in rotten logs, we were sure to unearth
+centipedes and scorpions, many of them,—but otherwise we
+rarely saw them. Once, indeed, a mother scorpion (<i>Centrurus
+margaritatus</i>) with half a hundred young ones on her
+back was discovered in a shoe, bringing to mind the old
+nursery rhyme.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure019" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure019.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 19. Scorpion and its Young taken from Milady’s Shoe.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>We found that much of the jungle was almost impenetrable,
+and on one of our first excursions we were fortunate
+enough to find a means of making the birds come to us from
+the deeper recesses of the forest. As we left the doorway, a
+silent little shadow fitted into the pommerosa tree in front of
+us, and soon among the glossy leaves came a sound which we<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[40]</span>
+had heard day and night, but the author of which had thus
+far evaded us. It is impossible to put into words, but it may
+be imitated by a monotone whistle, of about four notes to the
+second, of A above middle C. The glasses showed a mite of a
+Pygmy Owl<span class="bird"><a href="#bird60">60</a></span> glaring at us with wide yellow eyes, and firmly
+clutching a dead bird, half as large as himself. Later, when
+standing at the edge of an impenetrable tangle of thorny
+vines and vainly trying to discover what bird was singing in
+loud, ringing tones within it, we thought of the fierce little
+owl, and concealing ourselves, gave the call of <i>Glaucidium</i>.
+The effect was instantaneous; the song near us ceased, and
+with angry cries a pair of beautiful Black-capped Mocking-thrushes<span class="bird"><a href="#bird126">126</a></span>
+flew almost overhead. Black-tailed Euphonias<span class="bird"><a href="#bird139">139</a></span>
+and Grassfinches followed, Bananaquits<span class="bird"><a href="#bird137">137</a></span> whirred about us,
+and within a few minutes thirty or forty birds had testified
+to the hatred in which the little Owl is held.</p>
+
+<p>A great surprise to our northern eyes was the Yellow Woodpecker,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird90">90</a></span>
+not uncommon here, and clad in bright yellow
+plumage from crest to tail. It was very conspicuous in
+flight, but when it alighted, merged with the lichened bark
+and spots of sunlight. One bird was very tame and frequented
+a tree close by our window.</p>
+
+<p>One of our first walks led us through a narrow valley or
+gorge to the westward, shaded by ranks of tall palms and
+with isolated banana and cocoa plants, hinting of native
+Indian clearings long since overwhelmed by the luxuriant
+jungle growth. Wasps and other Hymenoptera outnumbered
+other insects at this season, and one could have collected
+scores of different species in a few hours. A few
+Heliconia butterflies drifted across our path, and now and
+then a giant morpho shot past like a meteor of iridescent blue.
+Other great butterflies (<i>Caligo ilioneus</i>) were iridescent blue
+and brown above, while the under sides of their wings were
+mottled and with a great eye-spot on each of the hind wings,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[41]</span>
+which gives them the name of the owl butterfly. But however
+much, in an insect cabinet, the expanded reverse of the wings
+suggests the face of an owl, the spot, as we observed it in the
+forest, seemed rather to render the insect invisible. These
+great fellows would shoot up to a lichen-covered trunk and
+drop lightly upon it, and unless one’s eyes had followed
+closely, the butterfly vanished like magic. Creeping up to
+one we secured its picture, the mottlings on its wings merging
+it with the lichens, and its owl-eyes becoming the painted
+facsimiles of darkened knotholes, or of little atoll-like fungus
+rings.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure020" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure020.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 20. Yellow Woodpecker.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>One is constantly impressed by the abundance and variety
+of these protective adaptations. Instead of one’s eyes becoming<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>[42]</span>
+more accustomed and trained in detecting these deceptions,
+the puzzles increase, and one becomes suspicious of
+everything. Every few minutes we are halted by a curled
+leaf which resembles some great caterpillar, or by a partly
+decayed fruit which may prove to be a curiously marked
+beetle. Many of these are such exact counterparts that we
+have to touch them to undeceive ourselves. After seeing some
+bats hung in the shadows between the buttressed bases of
+great trees, we imagine them in every patch of moss or dried
+leaves.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure021" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure021.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 21. Owl Butterfly on Cocoa Bark.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The resemblance to inanimate objects is never violated and
+often remarkably heightened by the little creatures of fur,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[43]</span>
+feather, scale or armor of chitin. The bats never alight in a
+close compact mass, but each isolated, with its wings partly
+spread, and often extended <i>irregularly</i>, one webbed hand
+higher or farther out than the other, thus presenting a dull,
+irregular outline, at which we should never have looked
+twice, had not the little beasties become frightened and
+flown. A butterfly (<i>Peridromia feronia</i>), mottled and pearly
+on the upper side, snaps clicking to a lichened trunk and
+alights head downward with wings flat. Beneath they are
+white and conspicuous. The inverted position allows the
+hinder wings to be pressed flat to the surface of the bark,
+while the slight shadow caused by the prominence of the
+body in front is thus below and invisible. Another, brilliant
+red on the upper side and irregularly marked below, never
+alights, as far as our experience went, except on some
+lichened trunk. In this case however the wings were held
+tightly together, and the insect always in a head downward
+position. The insect took to wing so quickly that only a
+hint of the red was visible.</p>
+
+<p>We never could tell what new form of protective resemblance
+would next come under our notice. Here and there
+in the woods we found trees which had fallen in a clear space
+and had torn out their roots in the fall, forming a great bank
+of earth and mould, held together by the network of root
+fibres. Hanging suspended by slender root tendrils were
+many small pellets of earth slowly swaying and disintegrating.
+We found that some of these were not mere accidents of
+inorganic forces, but were the nests of a small mud wasp
+made in a roughly circular form and moulded to one of the
+many rootlets.</p>
+
+<p>Lizards perhaps more than any other group of backboned
+animals become part and parcel of their surroundings in form
+and color. We sometimes found dull gray and green fellows
+on the trunks of trees or the ends of half rotten logs, which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[44]</span>
+almost defied the efforts of the eye to disentangle them from
+the lichens and moss amid which they clung. When one of
+these did move it was with such celerity that the eye unconsciously
+swept onward, impelled by momentum, and overshot
+the spot where it stopped. Then another careful search
+was necessary to rediscover
+the reptile.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp37" id="figure022" style="max-width: 15.625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure022.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 22. Lizard Alert on Trunk of Tree.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>This same glade was the
+favorite haunt of two kinds of
+small Manakins, the Gold-headed<span class="bird"><a href="#bird108">108</a></span>
+and the White-breasted.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird111">111</a></span>
+The former was
+a mite of a bird, barely four
+inches in length, jet-black as
+to body and wings, but with
+a cap of gold pulled down
+over his head and ears. If
+his eyes were black and beady
+like those of his near relatives,
+the harmony of his head-dress
+would be disturbed, so Dame
+Nature has sifted the gold
+over his eyes as well, and the
+yellow irides are almost invisible
+among the feathers. Such
+coloring renders him part of
+his beloved gorge. If he sits
+in the shade his body vanishes
+and his head is naught but a
+spot of sunshine; if his perch is in sunlight, the tiny, headless
+body conveys no hint of a living bird.</p>
+
+<p>His cousin, the White-breasted, is black and white and the
+four outer feathers of the wing are very narrow and curved.
+These are the strings upon which he plays an æolian song<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[45]</span>
+of love, for every time he takes to flight a loud humming sound
+is produced. The females are dull olive in color but easily
+recognizable by their orange feet and legs. Sometimes three
+suitors would buzz and hum together about one of these
+sombre little ladies in the gloom of the gorge.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure023" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure023.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 23. The Same Lizard a Moment Later, Obliterated by
+Change of Position.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The rotten trees and palm stubs were filled with interesting
+insects; big black palm weevils (<i>Rhyncophorus palmatum</i>)
+an inch and a half long, and huge brown cockroaches three
+inches from head to wing-tip (<i>Blaberus trapezoideus</i>). With
+a machete we cut open one log, which was like bread in
+consistency, and found two centipedes, three scorpions, one<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>[46]</span>
+of them a whip scorpion, a huge beetle larva, a small snake,
+with a faint band about its neck (<i>Homalocranium melanocephalum</i>)
+and most interesting of all, a Peripatus.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the reader here wonders to himself what a Peripatus
+is, and it is a pity that this most important creature has
+no common name. We may call it a worm-like caterpillar
+or a caterpillar-like worm, for its claim to fame rests upon
+its position as a so-called missing link. We know that in
+long ages past the ancestor of the butterflies, beetles, wasps,
+spiders and crabs was a worm-like creature, primitive in
+structure and in no way hinting of the beautiful organisms
+which were to be evolved in succeeding epochs. Hiding
+away from light, in the warm moisture of decaying wood, the
+little Peripatus has lived on and on, age after age, with little
+apparent change, until we find it to-day combining the simpler
+characters of the lowly worms with those of the vastly higher
+caterpillars.</p>
+
+<p>The Peripatus which we unearthed, or rather unlogged,
+was of a rich, dark reddish hue. It was caterpillar-like in
+general appearance, but not divided into segments, while the
+number of its very simple feet and its method of progression
+brought to mind the millipedes. The long, slender antennæ
+were constantly in motion, changing and extending, feeling
+about and retracting.</p>
+
+<p>Glancing at the leaf of a low shrub, we saw what we supposed
+to be two bits of dried, rolled-up leaf entangled in a
+strand of spider web and being whirled about by the wind.
+When we saw that this motion continued after the breeze had
+died down, we became interested. We discovered that the
+two objects were tineid moths of a dark pearl color, waltzing
+about with the most graceful and airy motion imaginable.
+With closed wings they whirled round and round by means
+of their legs alone, and, most remarkably, both going in the
+same direction, although this was frequently changed, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span>
+reversal being almost instantaneous and without an instant’s
+loss of the smoothness of the rhythm. Now and then their
+circles overlapped, but at the first danger of collision the
+tiny dervishes both retreated without stopping their dance.
+Presently one flew away, and the other shifted to another leaf
+near by, and recommenced his waltz alone. It was a surprise
+to find these little winged millers in the rôle of graceful
+dancers. The reason of it remained a mystery.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp78" id="figure024" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure024.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 24. Nest and Eggs of Great Blue Tinamou.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>These incidents are quoted as some among the myriad
+interesting doings of the little folk which we observed in the
+heart of these great jungles. As we walked on, virgin forest
+surrounded us, with great trees centuries old, chained and
+netted together by miles upon miles of lianas. Now and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[48]</span>
+then we entered a clear glade festooned by a maze of ropes
+and cables, with here and there a lofty monkey-ladder leading
+upward by a wavy series of narrow steps. The cicadas
+filled the air with the oriental droning of their song, and a
+big Red-crested Woodpecker<span class="bird"><a href="#bird88">88</a></span> called loudly from a half-rotted,
+vine-choked tree. From the undergrowth came a
+soft rolling trill, a crescendo of power and sweetness, and
+when our Indian carrier whispered, “<i>Gallina del monte</i>,” we
+knew we were listening to the call of a Great Blue Tinamou<span class="bird"><a href="#bird1">1</a></span>—one
+of those strange birds looking like brown, tailless fowls, but
+of so generalized a type that they form in many ways a link
+between the ostrich-like forms and the rest of the bird world.
+The bird which was calling soon became silent, but creeping
+slowly along we were fortunate enough to discover its nest
+on a bit of sunny turf near the end of a log in a partially overgrown
+clearing. All the delights of bird-nesting seemed consummated
+the moment we caught sight of the two wonderful
+eggs before us. The nest was merely a hollow scratched in
+the grass, but the sun was reflected from two shining spheres
+of metallic greenish blue, like two huge turquoises polished
+as by the wheel of a lapidary. Never were such eggs; they
+seemed of hard burnished metal, more akin to the stones
+lying about them than to the organic world, and yet, even as
+we looked, there appeared a tiny fracture, and in a few
+minutes the beak of a Tinamou chick had broken through to
+the outer air. The glistening cradle of stone would soon
+fall apart and give to the tropical world another life—one
+more mote among the millions upon millions about us.</p>
+
+<p>Now and then we would come across a huge low mound,
+clear of undergrowth, dotted with holes from which well-trodden
+paths led off in every direction. Some of these were
+six inches in width, so that we could easily walk in them.
+A twig poked down the holes and twisted about would come
+up covered with angry ants, great brownish-black fellows<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[49]</span>
+with a grip like a bulldog. Even this simile fails, for these
+insects will allow their heads to be pulled off before they
+will let go.</p>
+
+<p>Everywhere the ants attracted our attention; huge black
+giants (<i>Neoponera commutata</i>), which seemed never to have
+anything to do but parade slowly up and down the trunks of
+trees; and the ever-busy parasol-ants, hustling along in single
+file, waving their green banners and clinging faithfully to
+them while falling down terrific precipices three or four
+inches deep. We dug into their nests and found their fungi
+gardens, one part of which would be freshly planted with
+neat black balls of chewed-up green leaves, while in another
+part the fungus was well grown—a meshwork of gray strands
+whose fruit was ready to be plucked and eaten.</p>
+
+<p>The hunting-ants (<i>Eciton</i>) surpassed all the others in
+interest. Day after day we would come across their great
+armies, and we spent many hours of keen enjoyment watching
+their advance. We had read of their appearance and
+habits; we had heard them compared to Goths and hordes
+of savages, but no description prepares one for the actual
+sight. We watched in particular one large army which
+carried on its operations only a short distance from our
+house.</p>
+
+<p>Long before we came within sight of the ants themselves
+their presence would be heralded by the flock of birds which
+kept just in advance, feeding upon the insects which flew
+up from the van of the ant legions. In one such assemblage
+most of the birds were Woodhewers, big, cinnamon-colored,
+creeper-like birds which hitched up the tree trunks and now
+and then swooped down to the ground, snatched an insect
+and swung back to the trunk. This flock of birds showed
+other methods of feeding; Hummingbirds appeared from
+nowhere, dashed down to a tiny insect and vanished into
+space; Anis<span class="bird"><a href="#bird80">80</a></span> blundered along, looking as if their wings and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[50]</span>
+tails were too loosely attached for use; Ant-birds crept low
+through the bushes and carried their prey to a twig to eat;
+two American Redstarts<span class="bird"><a href="#bird128b">128b</a></span> and several Tyrant Flycatchers
+caught their prey by a sudden dart and a snap of the beak.
+One species in particular, the Streaked Flycatcher,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird105">105</a></span> was
+always attendant on the ants and always fearless, watching
+us and yet never missing a chance to snap up a passing
+insect.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp93" id="figure025" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure025.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 25. Woodhewer clinging to the Trunk of a Tree.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>As we drew nearer, a strange rustling sound reached our
+ears, like the regular pattering of raindrops, and before we
+knew it we were standing in the midst of thousands of active
+ants, whose rushing and scrambling about over the dead
+leaves caused the loud rustling. In a few seconds twenty
+or thirty ants had climbed upon and above our shoes, and
+their sharp, nipping bites sent us in haste to the flanks of the
+army, where we freed ourselves from the fierce creatures.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[51]</span>
+These ants are not large, varying from a fifth to a third of
+an inch in length, dark in color, with lighter red abdomens.</p>
+
+<p>Until one becomes accustomed to these scenes of carnage
+the sight is really terrible, especially when one lies down
+flat and takes an ant’s-eye view of the field of battle. Yet
+such is the fierceness and savage fury on one side and hopeless
+terror or frantic efforts to escape on the part of the victims
+that it needs but little imagination to stir deeply one’s sympathies.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure026" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure026.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 26. Streaked Flycatcher.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>In place of the steady advance of a well-drilled army, presenting
+a solid front of serried ranks, the formation of the
+hunting-ants may be compared to an innumerable host of
+cavalry scouts who quarter the ground in every direction,
+the whole army slowly advancing and including new territory
+in the scene of operations. Frequent flurries or louder
+rustlings follow the discovery and the subsequent terrible
+struggle of some quarry of noble size—a huge beetle or
+mighty lizard.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[52]</span></p>
+
+<p>One fact impressed us from the first: every creature aroused
+by the ants seemed to know instinctively of the awful danger.
+Whether through odor or sight or sound, the alarm always
+carried its full meaning. Insects which ordinarily would escape
+the collecting net by a single quick motion, here dashed
+away with such terror that they often flew against our clothes
+or a tree, and were hurled to the ground. Lizards took
+shelter under our shoes or shot off like streaks of light for
+many yards. Our presence and that of the predatory birds
+was disregarded in the efforts to avoid the danger which
+generations of inherited experience had made the most vivid
+in life.</p>
+
+<p>Insects which usually feigned death as a means of escape,
+when disturbed by these ants used all the motor organs
+given them by nature to flee from the dreaded foe. Escape
+seemed to be the result of accident with all wingless creatures,
+even with those possessing good eyesight, for the first blind
+terrified rush as often carried them to certain death in the
+thickest of the host as it did to safety in the van or on one
+side of the ant army. Even wings were not a surety of
+escape. Twice I saw moths arise heavily from their hiding-places
+with a half-dozen of the little fiends clinging to their
+legs and wings. One was snapped up, ants and all, by a
+big Flycatcher, and the other fell among the quartermaster’s
+brigade in the rear, where every ant within reach dropped his
+load and hurled himself upon the newcomer.</p>
+
+<p>Here and there one might observe good-sized balls of ants
+rolling about, and in the centre would be some hard-cased
+beetle or other insect, who gave up only after killing and
+maiming a score of his assailants.</p>
+
+<p>We dropped five big black ants into the midst of the
+marauders, and witnessed a combat as thrilling as the contest
+between the Greeks and Persians. Four of the insects
+alighted on a small rounded stone over which three hunting-ants<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>[53]</span>
+were scurrying. Without hesitation the black giants
+fell upon the brown warriors and tore them limb from limb,
+with the loss of only half a leg. This is not a very serious handicap,
+when one has five and a half robust limbs left! The
+fifth big fellow dropped upon a mass of ants piled like football-players
+upon a struggling scorpion, whose sting was
+lashing the air in vain. The big ant started another ripple
+upon this pool of death, which soon smoothed away, leaving
+no recognizable trace of him. But the quartet of big-jawed
+fellows on their rock citadel fought successfully and well. No
+ant which crept to the top ever lived to return for help. The
+four flew at him like wolves and bit him to death. Soon a
+ring of hunting-ants formed around the stone, all motionless
+except for a frantic twiddling of antennæ. They were apparently
+excited by the smell of the blood of their dead fellows,
+and only rarely did one venture now and then to scale the
+summit. When we left, two hours afterward, the army had
+passed, and left the stone and its four doughty defenders, who
+showed no immediate intention of leaving their fortress.</p>
+
+<p>The ground over which the hunting-ants passed was
+absolutely bare of life, and, contrary to the rule in human
+armies, it was among the camp-followers and foragers that
+the most perfect discipline reigned. In the rear of the main
+army were lines upon lines of ants laden with the spoils:
+legs, bodies, and heads of insects and spiders, bits of scaly
+skin of lizard or turtle, joints of centipedes and scorpions,
+and here and there a piece of ragged but gaudy butterfly-wing
+borne aloft like the captured standard of some opposing
+force.</p>
+
+<p>We followed three lines of supply-carriers and found that
+they converged on some sheltered hollow in a tree or under a
+boulder or root. Here were massed countless hordes of ants
+clinging together like a swarm of bees. In the centre were
+the queen, eggs, and young of these nomadic savages, resting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[54]</span>
+thus temporarily until the far-distant scouts should report
+another shelter, when the whole community would shift to
+the new home, farther along on the line of march.</p>
+
+<p>The army in which we were especially interested seemed
+to be carrying on their hunting in a rough circle about the
+temporary home, and perhaps this is a common habit. Certain
+ants apparently serve some function of direction or
+means of communication, for they keep to one place for a
+half hour at a time and twiddle their antennæ with every ant
+which approaches.</p>
+
+<p>It was when the hunting-ants discovered the nests of other
+species of ants that warfare, true to its name, was waged.
+One could watch as from a balloon, mimic Waterloos and
+Gettysburgs, and sad to relate, in the case of inoffensive
+species, plunder, murder, and abduction by the wholesale.
+After studying the ways of these merciless creatures, we could
+seldom walk through the quiet, sunlit jungle, with blossoming
+orchids everywhere overhead and the songs of birds and
+pleasant hum of insects in our ears, without thinking of the
+tragedies without number ever going on around us.</p>
+
+<p>Used as we were only to the small lightning bugs of our
+northern summer nights, the big luminous elater beetles (<i>Pyrophorus</i>
+sp.) were ever of interest. The two thoracic lights
+are placed on the outer posterior edges and give out a pale
+greenish glow of great intensity. We could easily see to read
+and write by their light, and by placing a half dozen of these
+insects in a glass we could use them instead of our electric
+flash.</p>
+
+<p>When we examined them carefully we were surprised to
+find that there was another area of illumination on the abdomen,
+below and just behind the insertion of the third pair
+of legs. When fully illuminated this area was brilliant and
+of a figure ∞ shape. The light however was radically different
+from that of the thorax, being yellowish, and candle-like,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[55]</span>
+giving an illusory impression of an opening from the
+incandescent interior of the insect. When the insect settles
+to rest the only visible illumination is from the pair of
+thoracic lights, but in flight the abdominal searchlight comes
+into play, burning brightly with a strong yellowish glare quite
+different from the green thoracic lights.</p>
+
+<p>As we lay at night half asleep we would sometimes be
+awakened by the droning of one or two big elaters, whose
+intermittent flashes would illumine the whole room. More
+than once we had to capture the intruders with the butterfly
+net and banish them before we could get any sleep.</p>
+
+<p>We chloroformed two of these luminous beetles and pinned
+them in an insect box. Two evenings afterward when we
+had occasion to add more insects, the box was opened and to
+our surprise the little lanterns were still aglow and hardly
+less brilliant than when the insects were alive. They had
+been dead forty-eight hours and yet their light still shone
+ghostly white, lighting up the other insects in the box.</p>
+
+<p>One evening we found a tiny wire worm, the larva of some
+small species of elater, which was highly phosphorescent.
+Although only about one-half of an inch in length, the whole
+head, the posterior segment and a spot on the side of each of
+the others was bright. Watched as it moved smoothly and
+rapidly along, it reminded us of a ship passing at a distance
+at night with the lights streaming from the port-holes.</p>
+
+<p>Our trips to the pitch lake on the early morning engine
+will never be forgotten. A warning toot from the diminutive
+whistle hurries us through our breakfast, and we hasten to the
+track and see our cameras and guns loaded on one of the
+little square wooden “empties.” We mount the wood-filled
+tender of the engine, which with many complaining creaks
+and jolts get under way, backing slowly around the curve
+which hides the last sign of civilization and buries us in the
+jungle.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[56]</span></p>
+
+<p>For nearly twenty years these little toy engines have bustled
+and elbowed their way over the snaky rails, until the jungle
+and its people have come to look upon this narrow winding
+steel path as part of the general order of things. The underbrush
+creeps close, and only the constant whipping of the
+engines and cars beats down the growth between the rails.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp78" id="figure027" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure027.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 27. The Jungle Railroad.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>As we start, the last bats of night dash into the dark
+jungle, and their diurnal prototypes, a flock of graceful Palm
+Swifts,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird71">71</a></span> swoop about overhead. To our ears there comes
+the <i>finalé</i> of the morning chorus of distant red howlers and
+the first deep-toned boilings of the giant Cassiques.</p>
+
+<p>All along the line, beasts and birds show their lack of fear
+of the rumbling cars. A party of chattering little monkeys<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[57]</span>
+sit and gibber at us and rub their dew-drenched fur. Their
+parents and great-grandparents had found nothing to fear
+in this strange thing which, five times each day, crawls back
+and forth on its narrow trail, and why should they do more
+than look and wonder? As we come in sight of the muddy
+banks of the little river, a great Parrot shrieks in derision at
+us from the top of a dead stub by the track, executing slow
+somersaults for our benefit. Instinctively we look for a
+chain on its leg and a food cup near by! A splash draws
+our eyes downward, and from a maelstrom of muddy water
+shoots a villainous sting ray. A school of little staring four-eyes
+skips over the water, and near the swampy, farther
+bank, a sprawling half-grown crocodile watches us—as
+quiet as a stranded log.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp88" id="figure028" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure028.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 28. Spider Lilies near Pitch Lake.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[58]</span></p>
+
+<p>The air blows cool and damp on our faces, and we long
+for the keen power of scent of a dog. Even to our dull
+nostrils every turn of the road is full of interest. A swamp,
+thickly starred with dainty spider-lilies, comes into view,
+and we inhale draughts of sweetest incense; Easter Sunday
+is at hand, and the very wilderness reminds us of it.</p>
+
+<p>With every breath of air the great palm leaves flick myriads
+of drops to the underbrush below, with a sound as of heavy
+rain. The trunks are black and soaked, and there is not a
+dry frond for miles. A sudden curve brings another loop
+of the river into view, with a foreground of scuttling crabs
+and mangrove seedlings. Here a wave of coarse, salty,
+marsh smell fills our lungs—not stagnant, but redolent of
+the distant sea; the smell that makes one’s blood leap. The
+next quarter-mile is covered with lilies again. From their
+perfume we enter a zone of recently cut grass—and the
+incense brings to mind northern hay-fields and the sweet-grass
+baskets of the Indians. What new pains and pleasures
+would be ours could we possess the power of scent of some
+of the “lower” animals!</p>
+
+<p>Temperate succeed tropical vistas; we see what at first
+appears to be a grove of young chestnuts rising from rhododendrons
+and guinea-grass. A Spotted Sandpiper<span class="bird"><a href="#bird22">22</a></span> heightens
+the illusion, and the picture is complete when a familiar milk-weed
+butterfly floats by and alights on a red and yellow
+tansy. But just then a Macaw shrieks from a near-by tree—the
+road-bed turns and reveals a tangle of palms and scarlet
+heliconias—a monkey climbs up a leaf large enough to
+shelter half a hundred of his kind. Strange palm fruits come
+into view, some like enormous clusters or bunches of grapes—each
+fruit as large as an orange; or again a huge feathery,
+dependent frond of dust-brown blossom and fruit protected
+by an overhanging spathe like a huge umbrella.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure029" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure029.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 29. La Brea—The Lake of Pitch.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>[60]</span></p>
+
+<p>The jungle never gives up the struggle against the invading
+rails. Beneath the cars the constant friction only dwarfs
+the growth, and we find here miniature plants blooming,
+fruiting, and scattering seed; plants which elsewhere reach a
+height of five or six feet. It is an interesting case of quick
+adaptation to unfavorable conditions.</p>
+
+<p>The vegetation presses on every inch of the track, striving
+ever to close up the long scar through the heart of the forest,
+and only by systematic cutting is the way kept open. The
+advance of the jungle host is most interesting. Thirty feet
+from the rails the growth is primeval, a dense mass of entangled
+and interlaced vines, shrubs, palms, and giant trees,
+the boles of the latter shooting up and up through the mass
+and bursting into bloom high overhead. Nearer the track
+we find a phalanx of green banners and the wonderfully
+brilliant red and yellow flower stalks of the quick-growing
+heliconias. In front are the rough scouts, the real advance-guard
+of strong, thorny vines growing in close entanglement—a
+living <i>chevaux-de-frise</i>, inconspicuous and yet offering
+the greatest resistance. Under this shelter the larger but
+slower-growing components of the jungle take root and
+gather vigor, until, if not cut out with the hardest labor,
+they soon rear their heads from their nursery of vines and
+brambles, and the shining rails vanish from view.</p>
+
+<p>All the creatures of the forest cross and recross the track
+freely, even in front of an approaching train. Water-fowl,
+Sun-bitterns<span class="bird"><a href="#bird24">24</a></span> and the weird-voiced Trumpeters<span class="bird"><a href="#bird25">25</a></span> walk up
+and down, and flocks of Seedeaters<span class="bird"><a href="#bird132">132</a></span> drift here and there,
+gleaning seed from between the rails. The Trumpeters were
+a great surprise to us, as this is the first instance of their
+being found north of the Orinoco River. One day we see
+the leaves part, and a long, low-shouldered reddish form
+slouches across before us, without even a glance at us, and
+we know it for the first South American puma (<i>Felis
+concolor</i>) which we have seen. Another “red lion,” as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[61]</span>
+the natives called it, with two cubs, was seen not long
+before.</p>
+
+<p>Only the sloth is barred. He comes close to the endless
+swath; he wanders from tree to tree up and down, peering dully
+out across the track, but he cannot cross. The twenty-foot
+treeless embankment is as impregnable to him as a sheer
+wall of rock. With a weird cry he turns back and starts in
+another direction through the branches.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure030" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure030.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 30. The Fatal “Mother of the Lake.”</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>We reach the lake long before the dew is dried and before
+the freshness of the dawn is dissipated. Hurrying over the
+planks and the temporary rails laid for the workman’s hand-cars,
+we push on a half-mile or more to the southward, where
+nothing hints of man’s proximity. To the north and west
+are irregular peaks running off into a blue and misty range—the
+foot-hills of the Spanish Main. To the south the high
+woods are close to us and tower high overhead, but even
+with the eye of yonder lofty, soaring Vulture we could see no<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[62]</span>
+mountains in that direction—nothing but flat, green miles
+of mangroves, stretching to the horizon over the immense
+delta of the Orinoco. The pitch lake itself is surrounded on
+all sides by dense forests, the front ranks of which are made
+up of the marvellously tall and graceful moriche palms.
+There is one oasis in this pitchy expanse—Parrot Island it
+may be called. To this shelter, guarded on all sides by soft,
+quaking pitch, Amazon Parrots come at dusk by hundreds,
+roosting there until the next morning.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp78" id="figure031" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure031.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 31. White-headed Chimachima Hawk and Eta Palm.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Near the northern edge is the “mother of the lake,” just
+above the deep-hidden source of supply, where the pitch is
+always soft, and where no vegetation grows. It is a veritable
+pool of death, and nothing can enter it and live. The lizards<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[63]</span>
+and heavy-bodied insects which scamper over the rim are
+often clogged and drawn down to death. A jaguar, leaping
+after a Jacana, slipped in shortly before we came and made
+a terrible fight for life. Half blinded, its struggles carried
+it only farther outward, but fortunately the end came mercifully
+soon.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure032" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure032.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 32. Amazon Parrot Roost, Pitch Lake.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>All the rest of the lake is a varied expanse of black pitch
+bubbles, short grass, clumps of fern and sedge, with occasional
+isolated palms. Flowers of many kinds and colors spring
+from the heart of the raw pitch itself. Jacanas<span class="bird"><a href="#bird23">23</a></span> rise before
+us with loud cries and flashing wings of gold. One may
+walk over the lake at will, morning and evening, but in the
+heat of midday, in many places, one’s shoes sink quickly
+unless one keeps constantly on the move.</p>
+
+<p>White is not a very common color in nature, and yet here,
+in striking contrast with the inky blackness of the pitch, most
+of the birds show large patches of this color. In the distance<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[64]</span>
+are always to be seen Snowy Egrets<span class="bird"><a href="#bird33">33</a></span> and immature
+Blue Herons<span class="bird"><a href="#bird34">34</a></span>—spots of purest white, while near at hand,
+absurdly tame, a big hawk forever soars slowly about or
+perches on some great frond of a tall palm. It is a White-headed
+Chimachima Hawk<span class="bird"><a href="#bird56">56</a></span> with plumage of white, save for
+back, wings, and tail.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp56" id="figure033" style="max-width: 28.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure033.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 33. The Home of the Amazon Parrot in the Middle of
+Pitch Lake.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The two most abundant small birds are chiefly white in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>[65]</span>
+color. Both are Flycatchers, one with white head and neck—White-headed
+Marsh Flycatcher<span class="bird"><a href="#bird98">98</a></span>—perching in the reeds
+and making fierce sallies after passing insects, while even
+more beautiful and conspicuous are the little terrestrial
+Flycatchers—White-shouldered Ground Flycatchers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird97">97</a></span> or
+“Cotton Birds”—which scurry along the ground over
+pitch and fallen logs. Their tails continually wag from side
+to side, and they come within a few feet of us, uttering low
+inquiring notes: <i>pit! pit!</i> They too are clad in white, except
+for back, nape, wings, and tail.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure034-035" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure034-035.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Amazon Parrot at Entrance of Nest.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fig. 34. Fifteen feet away. <span class="spacer">Fig. 35. Ten feet away.</span></span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>We follow one about, watching it through the ground-glass
+of the camera, when we blunder into a thicket of dry,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>[66]</span>
+crackling twigs. A sudden rustling sound draws our attention,
+and we look up and find ourselves within a few feet of a
+dry palm stub. Around the roughened stringy bark peers a
+green head with wide, yellow eyes, and we stiffen into
+immobility. The position is anything but comfortable;
+thorns are scratching us, flies are tickling our faces, but we
+dare not move. After five minutes, which seem hours, the
+big Yellow-fronted Amazon Parrot<span class="bird"><a href="#bird64">64</a></span> withdraws, and we hear
+a scuttling within the stub. Silently and with the greatest
+caution we step backward, and after a rest we arrange our
+plan of attack.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure036" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure036.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 36. Amazon Parrot about to take Flight.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>These birds usually nest in hollows in the tops of the tallest,
+most inaccessible trees, and this is a golden opportunity—one<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>[67]</span>
+in a lifetime—for a photograph of a Parrot at
+home.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure037" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure037.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 37. Eggs and Young of Amazon Parrot in the Nest.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The entrance is rectangular, about three by six inches, and
+some five feet above the ground. Painfully I pick my way
+to the side of the stub, and bracing myself, focus on that spot
+of black on the trunk. Then Milady rustles the weeds in the
+rear of the stub. Again a rustling, and on the ground-glass of
+my Graflex flashes the green head. Snap! I have her! and
+with the slowest of motions I change plates. While she is
+engrossed with the disturber in the rear I advance a step and
+get another picture. Then screwing up my speed-button, I
+push slowly forward, and just as she is about to hurl herself<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>[68]</span>
+from the stub I secure a third photograph. Off she goes to
+the nearest palms, shrieking at the top of her lungs, and is
+joined by her mate.</p>
+
+<p>We cut a hole in the trunk near the ground, and there find
+the nest of the parrot. Three white eggs, one of which is
+pipped, and a young bird just hatched reward us, all resting
+on a bed of chips. The diminutive polly is scantily clothed
+with white down, and while in the shade lies motionless.
+When a ray of warm sunlight strikes it the little fellow becomes
+uneasy and crawls and tumbles about until it escapes
+from the unwelcome heat. During its activity it keeps up a
+continuous, low, raucous cry like the mew of a catbird. Far
+out on the expanse of black pitch—six feet in the depth of
+this dark cavity!—this little squawking mite surely had a
+strange babyhood to fit it for its future life in the sunlight
+among the palms.</p>
+
+<p>It was the Yellow-fronted Amazon Parrot,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird64">64</a></span> a common
+species with dealers everywhere, but we shall never see
+one in a cage, uttering inane requests for crackers, without
+thinking of the interesting family we discovered at the pitch
+lake.</p>
+
+<p>We found strange fish in the pools of water scattered over
+the lake. Some must have wriggled their way over dry land
+for some distance to get there. There were round, sunfish-like
+fellows (<i>Aequidens</i>) and others, long and slender, with
+wicked-looking teeth (<i>Hoplias malabaricus</i>). Most curious
+of all were the Loricates or armored catfish, with a double
+row of large overlapping scales enclosing their body from
+head to tail. Like the Hoatzins among the birds, these fish
+are strange relics of the past, preserved almost unchanged
+from the ancient fossil Devonian forms.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>[69]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp56" id="figure038-039" style="max-width: 28.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure038-039.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fish from the Pools in Pitch Lake.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fig. 38.</span> <i>Aequidens</i> Sp.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fig. 39.</span> <i>Hoplias Malabaricus.</i></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>[70]</span></p>
+
+<p>Days passed like hours in this wonderland, and the
+time for returning to civilization came all too soon. The
+strange living beings which filled jungle and air and water,
+made us long for the leisure of months instead of weeks,
+in which to study all the infinite variety of life which
+surrounded us.</p>
+
+<p>Our last view of Venezuela was like the first—a panorama
+of silent, majestic green walls, guarding a stream of brilliant
+copper; every one of the untold myriads of beating hearts
+beyond the walls resting silent in the noonday heat, waiting
+for the coolness of evening to awaken them to activity. To
+some it would bring song and happiness with nest and mate,
+to some combat, to others death.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>[71]</span></p>
+
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.<br>
+<span class="smaller">A WOMAN’S EXPERIENCES IN VENEZUELA.<br>
+(<i>By Mary Blair Beebe.</i>)</span></h3>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>The doings of the creatures in fur, feathers and scales
+kept us keenly interested from morning to night, yet in
+our wilderness search there were many unnatural history
+experiences—some disagreeable, others thrilling—but all so
+wholly delightful in their charm of strangeness to the woman
+who enjoyed them that the picture of our wilderness seems
+incomplete without them.</p>
+
+<p>Life on board a Venezuelan sloop is quite unlike any other
+experience in the world. Neither the woman who sits under
+the awning of a luxurious yacht nor her more adventurous
+sister who sails her own catboat over turbulent waters can
+form any idea of the daily life aboard such a craft.</p>
+
+<p>The night we set forth in our tiny sloop from the Island of
+Trinidad, headed for an unexplored part of the Orinoco
+delta, it was hard to realize that we were at last bound for
+South America, the land of our dreams. As you know we
+were, for the present, owners of a sloop flying the Venezuelan
+flag and manned by five men, of whom only the
+Captain knew a word of English. The charm of exploration
+and adventure laid a spell upon us both—El Señor Naturalista
+and me—and we watched in silence the sunset sky
+and the dim receding shores of Trinidad.</p>
+
+<p>But there was a certain stern reality about that first night
+aboard the “Josefa Jacinta” that soon broke in upon our
+reveries. When we descended to the tiny cabin to unpack,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>[72]</span>
+the sloop had begun to pitch heavily and we set ourselves to
+solve the problems of unstable equilibrium, which constantly
+shifting angles of 30° to 40° presented in both floor and walls.
+By courtesy we called our domicile a cabin, and we found
+that it would hold two people—at a pinch!</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp93" id="figure040" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure040.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 40. Our Sloop at Guanoco.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>We unearthed our unused pneumatic mattresses and
+rigged up our gilded foot pump. For fifteen minutes W——
+worked, then the mate was called and took a hand. Were we
+on a sinking ship and manning the pumps for our lives,
+greater exertions could not have been made, and the reward
+was a thin film of air within the rubber bed. Then we unscrewed
+the decorative but useless contrivance, and W——
+began to blow. This proved effective, and in a few minutes
+we had placed the soft, air-filled cushions in our respective
+bunks. We dubbed these bunks catacombs at once, for the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>[73]</span>
+tiny niches into which we later crept were more like the
+vaults of a tomb than aught else.</p>
+
+<p>I doubt if either of us will ever forget that first night. Beneath
+the flooring and behind the planked sides of the vessel
+was a mysterious underworld, densely populated by rats of
+most sportive disposition. How they managed to live there
+we never discovered, for we neither caught sight of one
+throughout the voyage, nor were we ever troubled by raids on
+biscuits or other edibles.</p>
+
+<p>There seemed to be some kind of a running track extending
+around the hidden depths of the sloop. A race would start
+near the stern, the contestants tearing around W——’s bunk;
+then the footfalls would die out toward the bow to become
+audible almost at once on my side—a medley of sound indicating
+a mob of invisible rushing creatures, galloping down
+a mysterious homestretch. For some time we expected the
+goal of each race to be some part of ourselves or our luggage,
+but the “heat” would invariably end on the under side of the
+partition within a few inches of my ear, and then would follow
+a general mêlée and fight, punctuated with shrill squeaks
+and squeals and vicious blows and sounds of tumbling, rolling
+bodies. Were we in the mood we might have learned much
+of rat vocabulary. But we did not then know that these
+strenuous rodents never penetrated to the upper portions of
+the sloop and this uncertainty kept alive our interest in their
+manœuvers throughout the night.</p>
+
+<p>Silence was unknown during this first night, and while the
+rats were resting, other things occupied our minds and kept
+away <i>ennui</i>—and sleep. The gurgle and splash of bilge
+water was a steady accompaniment of the pitch and toss of the
+sloop, while now and then a sinister trickling came to our ears.
+We called up to the captain and inquired about it, and were
+assured that it was “only a leak!” He had looked for it many
+times, but could not locate it. This gave us food for thought,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>[74]</span>
+besides adding decidedly to the slowness of the ticking of the
+watch marking the passage of the hours of darkness. I lay
+in my berth as long as I could endure it; dreaming now and
+then of being buried alive, then rising with a start and striking
+my head against the coffin lid of my catacomb. At last I
+abandoned it for the floor of the cabin, sloping and under
+five feet in total length though it was. I found it was better
+to be huddled in a forlorn little bundle on the floor than in
+that hole which by no stretch of the imagination could be
+called a berth.</p>
+
+<p>Overhead the crew worked fitfully all night long. I could
+move the hatch curtain, look up and see the sturdy old
+Captain with his hand on the rudder—a picture which was
+to become familiar to us through many nights. What a
+picturesque old figure he was—rugged and stern, yet as
+gentle and courteous as any gentleman of the old school—and
+bearing his three-score and eight years with wonderful
+vigor. Now and then his deep voice would rise above the
+roar of wind and waves in hoarse commands in Spanish to
+the crew. Then he would push the rudder hard up, the
+boom would swing over with a jerk which made the whole
+sloop tremble and a wave would wash over the deck and
+send a trickle of cold drops down upon my face. Smothered
+exclamations from the crew and the sound of their bare feet
+splashing along the deck would end the audible part of the
+manœuvre. Then I would shift to meet the new angle of the
+floor and wait for the next race of the rats.</p>
+
+<p>Now and then the Captain would reach behind the hatch
+curtain for his watch and examine its dripping face by the
+light of the candle in the compass box. “<i>Faltan las cinco á
+la una</i>,” he would mutter, and I knew that midnight had
+passed and that somewhere in our wake, morning was on its
+way to end this night of nights. The tempest increased and
+tossed our sloop like a flying leaf. Sometimes it seemed as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>[75]</span>
+if we never would right ourselves after heeling far over into
+the depths. But the calm face of our helmsman dispelled
+all uneasiness, and I lay staring into the darkness, feeling
+myself the veriest atom amid this fierce tumult.</p>
+
+<p>To this moment I cannot tell how long it took us to get from
+Trinidad to Venezuela across that awful Gulf of Paria. To
+me it seemed an endless space of time—day succeeding
+night—with choppy seas, ominous noises in the pitching cabin,
+hot sleepy hours on deck in the shade of the sail, with the great
+green waves forever rolling after and breaking partly over us.
+By the Captain’s reckoning, however, it was the noon of only
+the second day which revealed the distant shore, and soon we
+forgot all the discomforts of the past hours in the wonderful
+beauty of the scene before us—the still, brassy waters and
+the rich green mangroves.</p>
+
+<p>Entering the wide Caño San Juan we dropped anchor in
+the lee of a solitary guard ship, a poor derelict, a rusty and
+worn-out freighter, whose last days were to be spent here in
+the calm waters at the edge of the mangrove forest. Our
+little sloop was soon over-run with young custom-house
+officials from the guard ship, curious but courteous, and far
+more appreciative of the stiff rounds of rum which our Captain
+willingly served to them under our direction, than of
+our gilt-sealed letters of introduction.</p>
+
+<p>If we would but take their photographs on board the “Pontón,”
+they would row us close along the shore while we waited
+for the “fulling tide,” as the Captain called it. Of course we
+agreed. Shouldering their rusty muskets they stood in a row
+to be photographed,—young inexperienced boys, whose
+idle days on the derelict were spent in drinking, smoking
+cigarettes and lying in hammocks playing the mandolin,
+watching for the rare sloop or schooner which might enter
+Venezuela by this desolate and unfrequented caño.</p>
+
+<p>We promised to send them the pictures; but Captain Truxillo<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>[76]</span>
+said afterwards with a sad shake of his head that they
+would have lost their positions long before the pictures could
+reach them. No one ever stayed long; there was always
+someone to carry reports to Castro of treachery and plotting,
+and there would be new faces on the “Pontón,” to stay a little
+while and then to disappear like their predecessors.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp88" id="figure041" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure041.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 41. Venezuelan Soldiers on the “Pontón” Guard Ship.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Now for many days the sloop was our home, and the innumerable
+gleaming <i>caños</i> of the delta our highways. By day
+we explored the mangroves in our <i>curiara</i> or dug-out, and by
+night we slept the dreamless sleep of healthful outdoor life,
+safe from the persecution of the humming <i>Anopheles</i> outside
+our netting on the after deck. When midday heat or
+sudden rain drove the wild creatures from our view I
+studied our motley crew and found them a never-failing
+source of entertainment.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>[77]</span></p>
+
+<p>The tally of the crew must begin with Filo, the mate, a
+huge black creole, speaking Spanish besides his own strange
+vernacular; then there were two sailors from the Island of
+Margarita, and Antonio, cook by profession, admitting some
+Dutch blood, but of unknown extraction and decidedly uncertain
+disposition. The cook on board a Venezuelan craft
+is always given the respectful title of Maestro (<i>Mai’stro</i>), so
+Maestro he always was to us. Maestro as an individual was
+an interesting psychological study. Although he probably
+never heard of such a thing as a labor union, yet he was the
+embodied spirit of one. He declared, in terms that left no
+possibility of misunderstanding, that he was cook, not sailor,
+and that he would do nothing <i>but</i> cook. He would cook
+cheerfully over a stove that smoked like Dante’s Inferno,
+but when called upon in an emergency to help hoist a sail,
+he would fly into a violent torrent of angry Spanish. Later
+when the temper had spent itself he would often go and do
+what was asked of him. I have seen many high tempers,
+but never one that quite equalled Maestro’s. There were
+times when he would draw his huge cutlass or machete on the
+Captain. For a long time these were all false alarms, but at
+last Maestro threatened once too often and so seriously that
+he was discharged on the spot, and left marooned in a little
+Indian village with no means of returning to Trinidad. But
+this was at the end of our voyage.</p>
+
+<p>Maestro in his patched and faded shirt, with sleeves rolled
+to the elbow, still more patched trousers rolled to the knee,
+bare as to feet, a crownless hat on one side of his head, an
+ancient and odoriferous pipe hanging from his mouth, a big
+machete at his side, in the capacity of cook would make the
+most shiftless housekeeper gasp with horror. I often wondered
+why he so persistently declared himself <i>cocinero</i>, not
+<i>marinero</i>, for he could hardly have been a greater failure in any
+calling than he was in that of chef. Among the most valued<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>[78]</span>
+of my memories are some mental pictures of Maestro, which,
+while I live, I can never manage to forget.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure042" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure042.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 42. Captain Truxillo paddling us up the Guarapiche
+past Caño Colorado.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>I often shut my eyes and see him with streaming eyes
+stirring some fearful concoction over the little stove; or again
+on his knees mixing dough for the leaden dumplings to be
+boiled in the pig-tail stew which appeared at every meal. We
+so often wished we had brought graham flour. White flour
+does show the dirt so! Still another picture is Maestro
+washing the table-cloth. This was a piece of oilcloth, originally
+white, and Maestro’s method of washing it was to spread
+it on the deck, pour water over it, dance upon it in his bare
+feet, to the accompaniment of some weird chant, and finally
+hang it on the rail to dry! No doubt after this proceeding he
+felt as self satisfied as the most pompous and well-trained
+English butler.</p>
+
+<p>In justice, I must say that Maestro did make one or two<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>[79]</span>
+edible dishes; he could boil the native vegetables, yam,
+tania and kuch-kuch and he made very good cornmeal mush.
+Then after a long, happy day on the caños we were always
+hungry, and happiness and honest hunger overlook a multitude
+of sins. Besides, whatever was lacking in Maestro’s bill
+of fare was compensated by the dried soups, cocoa, crackers
+and preserves from our own stores. So we managed one way
+or another to keep the wolf from the door, or perhaps more
+appropriately I should say, the crocodile from the companionway.</p>
+
+<p>As in two weeks the crew had consumed provisions planned
+by the Captain to last a month, the Captain purchased a hundred
+pounds of beef from a dug-out full of Indians which
+passed us one day on the river. This Maestro salted plentifully
+and then hung up in the sun to cure. Long strips of it
+were suspended from the rigging, from the boom, and over the
+railing, and whole entomological collections buzzed noisily
+about them. For a few days we felt as though we were
+living in a butcher’s shop; and a butcher’s shop in a
+tropical climate is a thing to be avoided. At first we were
+inclined to resent this impromptu meat market. It was
+not only disagreeable but it was in the way. Then came
+the thought—suppose it were fish; and we were so grateful
+to be spared that, that we cheerfully submitted to a sloop
+draped with strips of meat, as a house is festooned with smilax
+at Christmas. As long as the larder was low the Captain had
+known no peace of mind for fear his crew would desert us
+and the sloop. So the purchase of such a delicacy as meat
+was a successful piece of strategy.</p>
+
+<p>With all their faults, there is among the Venezuelans, as
+among the Mexicans, a certain chivalry toward women; and
+so I never felt the least alarm at being left alone on the
+sloop with the crew, while the Captain and my husband went
+off up the river. The great dusky Creole mate would put my<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>[80]</span>
+stool in a shady spot, and, figuratively, lay himself at my feet
+to serve me, and Maestro—even pugnacious Maestro—would
+weave wonderful baskets for me of the roots of the mangrove;
+baskets in nests of twelve, each fitting snugly within
+the other and all gayly dyed with the Venezuelan colors, the
+pigments being extracted from the leaves or stems of unknown
+wild plants.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure043" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure043.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 43. Sunset in the Mangrove Wilderness.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The time passed all too quickly with each day spent on the
+Guarapiche river—a gleaming stage, with a setting of green
+trees, brilliant flowers and fragrant orchids, and an ever-changing
+plot with ever-changing actors. Of them all, man
+was the least important. There were populous villages of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>[81]</span>
+Hoatzins and great wandering tribes of Scarlet Ibises and
+Plovers; Herons, much occupied with their unsocial and
+taciturn calling as fishermen, stood silent and solitary in
+secluded pools. With all this wild life the river teemed. It
+was only with the rising and falling of the tide that man
+entered upon the scene; and so quietly, so much a part of
+nature, that one hardly felt any difference between him and
+the forest folk. In a silently, swiftly moving <i>curiara</i> he would
+glide under the shadows of the overhanging mangroves.
+Sometimes the <i>curiara</i> would be a merchant vessel, laden
+with ollas, fruit, etc., with its destination Maturin, many
+miles away in the interior. Again its only occupant was a
+fisherman, as silent as the Herons themselves. Like a Heron<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>[82]</span>
+also he would station himself near a shady pool, and sit all
+day, motionless save for the changing of bait or the pulling
+in of a fish. With the turning of the tide the line would be
+drawn up, the fish covered with cool green leaves and the
+<i>curiara</i> would move away, the bronze figure of its owner
+skilfully guiding it up the winding river.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure044" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure044.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 44. The Silent Savages.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Occasionally the fisherman was accompanied by his squaw,
+hardly to be distinguished from him, and in the bow there
+was often the little naked figure of a child playing with a mite
+of a tame monkey, or both sound asleep with their arms
+wrapped about each other. All that these simple folk ask
+of life is one fish to eat, another with which to buy cassava
+and a yard of cotton cloth.</p>
+
+<p>In the brief tropical twilight we would hastily make preparations
+for the night, spreading our air-beds on deck,
+hanging over them a white mosquito canopy and putting our
+electric flashlight and revolver at hand. After the first two
+nights we had abandoned the cabin, which had added to its
+other discomforts the fact that all the mosquitoes of the
+caño had selected it as their abode. Never were nights
+more beautiful than those which we spent on the deck of that
+little sloop, and never was sleep more dreamless and peaceful.</p>
+
+<p>In the darkness of early evening, before the moon rose, we
+would sit on deck munching sugar-cane while the Captain
+told us many a tale of his young days, when he was the
+prosperous owner of a schooner twice the size of the “Josefa
+Jacinta” and when smuggling brought adventure and yellow
+gold in abundance. He was full of legend and superstition.
+He told us of aged men and women, both among the Indians
+and the Spaniards, who he declared can by a peculiar whistle
+call together all the snakes in the vicinity and then by incantations
+so hypnotize them that they can be handled with
+impunity. The owner of a hacienda will sometimes employ
+one of these charmers to call together the snakes, which can<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>[83]</span>
+then be killed. The performers themselves, however, will
+never harm a snake. He told many a story of black magic
+arts, in which he firmly believed, of sending to one’s enemies
+scourges of rats or deadly diseases or departed spirits
+to make life unendurable.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure045" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure045.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 45. Guarauno Indians coming to trade at Caño Colorado.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Finally the crew would roll up in their blankets in the bow,
+the Captain would disappear beneath his <i>mosquitaro</i>, which
+would tremble and quake in the moonlight until he lay quiet
+in his hammock. We would creep beneath our tent of
+netting to write up the last notes of the day or to listen to
+the sounds of the night. From the bow would come a low
+murmur of voices in some weird chanting song until the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>[84]</span>
+Captain roared out for all hands to go to sleep. But he would
+not practice what he preached for he always talked himself
+to sleep, sometimes in English, or in Spanish or again in
+Creole, while now and then he would mingle all three.</p>
+
+<p>By day one would not have suspected Filo, the mate, of
+being a person of romance; but under the spell of the tropical
+moonlight he would often tell stories to the crew; stories in
+which the heroine was always “<i>Muy preciosa, muy joven,
+muy linda</i>,”—very charming, very young and very beautiful.
+She would set difficult tasks for her many lovers, and her
+favored suitor would be the one who most bravely bore himself
+under the tests. I remember one tale to which the crew
+listened with awe; in which one of the lovers was to lie all
+night in the cathedral, stiff and still like a corpse; another
+was to go to the same cathedral on the same night dressed
+in winding sheets like a ghost; another was to represent the
+angel of death, while a fourth impersonated the devil; and a
+fifth was sent as an ordinary man. Of course none of them
+were to know of the others having been sent by the fair
+heroine of the story; and of course the fortunate lover was
+the one who showed no terror and passed the night quietly
+in the church, returning in the morning to claim his bride.</p>
+
+<p>The story had its dramatic situations and Filo made the
+most of them. Even Maestro was moved to utter a low
+“<i>Dios mio!</i>” at the description of the entrance of the ghost,
+the angel of death and finally the devil; at which the poor
+corpse, who had been shaking with fear through it all, started
+up and fled in terror.</p>
+
+<p>Filo’s story lost nothing in his telling and the superstitious
+crew went very soberly to rest that night. W—— and I lay,
+as we so often did, staring wonderingly out into the night,—the
+marvellous tropical night.</p>
+
+<p>It was all like a dream; the shining water of the <i>caño</i>, the
+deep, mysterious forest growing down to the water’s edge, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>[85]</span>
+cries of unknown birds and beasts, the impressive southern
+cross and the extraordinary brilliancy of the moonlight shining
+down upon the tiny deck of the “Josefa Jacinta,” and
+upon us and the sleeping forms of its dusky crew.</p>
+
+<p>We were sometimes awakened in the night by a sudden
+bright light in our faces. It was Maestro making a fire, in
+which operation he used alarming quantities of kerosene, to
+prepare the midnight repast for the crew, who whenever they
+woke in the night would call loudly “<i>Maestro—café!</i>”</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure046" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure046.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 46. Guarauno Squaws and Child with Monkey.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Again the sound of an unusually heavy downpour of tropical
+rain on the tarpaulin overhead would waken us, and I
+would occasionally discover that my feet were in a puddle of
+water. A shifting of beds to prevent our being drowned
+while we slept would invariably result in our feet being<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>[86]</span>
+higher than our heads, and because of the horde of mosquitoes
+which found their way in while the beds were being
+moved, the rest of that night would be sleepless.</p>
+
+<p>With the dawn came the roar of the howling monkeys;
+a dainty <i>Tigana</i><span class="bird"><a href="#bird24">24</a></span> picked its way among the mud-flats; a flock
+of <i>Hervidores</i><span class="bird"><a href="#bird80">80</a></span>—which being translated means “boilers,”
+an appellation perhaps suggested by the notes of these black
+Cuckoos—bubbled away as cheerily as a bright kettle on a
+breakfast table. And with these sounds of the dawn all our
+troubles of the night were forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>After weeks of solitude in the mangrove jungles our prow
+was headed inland and a long night of silent drifting with
+the tide brought us to the mouth of the Guanoco River. Here
+the Captain and the unruly crew at dawn had their usual
+heated argument as to the management of the boat, with the
+result that they nearly ran her aground—one of the many
+narrow escapes which had happened so often as to create
+but little interest on our part.</p>
+
+<p>Guanoco was a river of bends, around each one of which
+the Captain assured us we would see the village. But it was
+twilight before we turned the final bend and saw picturesque
+Guanoco at the hour of <i>vespertino</i>—a hill rising steep and
+blue, with the silvery river at its foot and a cluster of little
+thatched huts perched one above another on the hillside.</p>
+
+<p>It was delightful to feel solid ground under one’s feet
+again and we could hardly get over our accustomed walk of
+“three steps and over-board.”</p>
+
+<p>Here in our wilderness we found an unexpected home.
+Through the kindness of our cordial friends in Trinidad—Mr.
+Eugene André and Mr. Ellis Grell—we had letters to
+the men in charge of the pitch lake at Guanoco and it was to
+this great lake that the tiny settlement of Guanoco owed its
+being.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as we reached the wharf, a young Venezuelan<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>[87]</span>
+came on board, introducing himself as Señor Bernardo
+Lugo y Escobar,—one of the officials of the Pitch Lake
+Company, and explaining that Mr. Grell had written him
+that we might possibly come to Guanoco and that we were
+to be entertained at the headquarters for as long as we chose
+to stay. Mr. Lugo was most urgent in his hospitality and I
+knew well of what the sloop dinner would consist. Maestro
+and I would hold a perfectly futile consultation in which we
+would decide upon the only possible menu—<i>funche</i> (which is
+the Venezuelan name for cornmeal mush), dried pea soup and
+cocoa. I must explain that the lack of variety in our larder
+was due to the fact that we had expected to be able to supplement
+our canned goods with fresh fish and game, both of
+which proved difficult to obtain, the latter because of the
+impossibility in this vast swamp of ever finding the game
+after it was shot. The experience taught us the useful
+lesson which every camper and explorer learns sooner or later,
+sometimes alas! <i>too</i> late—never to depend upon the game of
+the country, but always to plan your provisions as if game did
+not exist. Then when one gets it, it comes as an unexpected
+luxury.</p>
+
+<p>But to return to my visions of a good dinner in the preparation
+of which I had no part or responsibility. Perhaps there
+would also be the luxury of a real bath. I was roused from
+these attractive reflections by the voice of the Captain politely
+refusing Mr. Lugo’s invitation for the night, and saying that
+we would not go ashore until the next day. Whereupon
+I diplomatically remarked in English,—that Mr. Lugo
+might not understand,—that I thought Mr. Lugo’s feelings
+would be hurt if we refused, and as long as we were to go the
+next day and there was nothing to be gained by spending
+the night on the sloop, why not gratify him by going at once.</p>
+
+<p>And so it came about that in a few minutes more we were at
+“Headquarters.” As the house was quite invisible from the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>[88]</span>
+water, we had imagined that we were to go to one of the
+thatched huts which we had seen from the river.</p>
+
+<p>To our surprise, around the base of the hill we found
+ourselves going up a pretty palm bordered walk which led to
+a low, massive, fort-like building.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp93" id="figure047" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure047.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 47. Pitch Lake, showing freshly dug pit filled with water;
+an older pit filled with soft pitch, both surrounded by the
+hard surface pitch.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>In the broad open hall were comfortable rocking chairs,
+in striking contrast to the sloop on which we had taken turns
+sitting on the one stool which the little craft possessed. In
+the <i>patio</i> was a table laid for dinner—with a big black
+Trinidad negro bringing in steaming dishes.</p>
+
+<p>There is no hospitality anywhere quite equal to that of the
+wilderness. Your host does not arrange your visit from the
+Saturday to the Monday, fitting you in between a multitude<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>[89]</span>
+of other engagements. A wilderness welcome is as genial and
+inevitable as the tropical sunshine. Your visit is an event—a
+mile-stone in the long road of lonely months of exile—months
+which sometimes lengthen into years. Our very
+interesting friend Mr. Eugene André of Trinidad told us
+that on one of his many orchid-hunting expeditions he had
+chanced to land at a certain God-forsaken little port on the
+west coast of Colombia. Mr. André had wondered why
+the fare to this port from Panama should be $30—while the
+return passage was $100. The problem was solved after he
+had seen the port—desolate, barren, inaccessible and fever
+and insect ridden—one might be induced to pay $30 to get
+there provided one knew not what manner of place it was.
+But to get away—one would pay any sum and gladly. So
+it is that the little coastwise steamboat company calmly
+demands $100 to return the unfortunate traveller to Panama—and
+<i>gets</i> it.</p>
+
+<p>At this forlorn spot there were stationed two young men, I
+forget now in what capacity, who for many months had not
+seen an intelligent human being. Into the empty monotony
+of their lives, Mr. André appeared. It mattered not to those
+lonely young men who he was, nor where he came from.
+His welcome was—“Stay with us. Stay a year—or ten
+years. We know all about each other. We’ve talked about
+everything until there is nothing left to say—we even know
+how much sugar we each like in our tea and who our great
+grandmothers were, and who we think wrote Shakespeare’s
+plays;—and we are so bored and so glad to see a new face.”</p>
+
+<p>Thus it is that everywhere in the South American wilderness
+the English-speaking stranger is made welcome by
+his kind, and we found Guanoco no exception to this rule.</p>
+
+<p>The pretty Spanish greeting is—“The house is yours”
+and during our stay at the Pitch Lake, the headquarters became
+really ours. We were given the best room; the servants<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>[90]</span>
+were put at our disposal: and best of all we were perfectly
+free to come and go as we pleased; and with everything done
+to facilitate our work. All this we owed also to the instructions
+of Mr. Ellis Grell, who was then financing the Pitch
+Lake Company and to the kindness of Mr. Lynch and Mr.
+Stoute, two young West Indians employed by the company.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp93" id="figure048" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure048.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 48. Digging out the Black, Waxlike Pitch.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>We were tired that first night at Guanoco. The night
+before had been a hard one—sailing all night long, with
+the boom swinging back and forth and making impossible
+the hanging of our mosquito nets. All through the night the
+Captain and his crew worked. Down the narrow river the
+Captain skilfully guided the sloop in the darkness of a moonless
+night, following the line of the trees against the sky to
+mark the channel. His commanding old voice rang from
+stern to bow, the orders being there repeated by the mate
+to the sailors who were towing us, and who paused in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>[91]</span>
+wild melody which they chanted through that wonderful night,
+to listen and obey. It was a difficult and dangerous task—the
+guiding of that sloop down so narrow and winding a river:
+and even the unruly crew were obedient that night, rendering
+the homage which in time of danger the ignorant unconsciously
+yield to a superior intelligence.</p>
+
+<p>When we wondered at the Captain’s confidence, he replied
+in his deep voice, “Ah yes!—but I am old here and I know
+these caños as I do my house.” And indeed here the curtain
+had risen upon his life and here it was likely to fall at the
+end of the last act.</p>
+
+<p>When finally quite exhausted we had laid down upon the
+deck to sleep, it was to fall into so profound a slumber that
+the mosquitoes devoured us unmolested, in spite of our head
+nets which proved insufficient protection.</p>
+
+<p>So it was that on that first night at Guanoco we were very
+tired. I sat lazily rocking in the cool evening breeze,
+anointing my irritating bites with Tango, a preparation
+dependent upon faith cure for its healing properties—and
+listening to the desultory talk of the young men. The conversation
+was desultory, however, only so long as the Venezuelan
+element of the household was present. On this occasion
+that element was represented by the young Mr. Lugo who
+had met us at the wharf. After he had gone out on some
+errand the story of Pitch Lake was poured into our interested
+ears. It was a story of intrigue and revolution and
+treason quite worthy of some mediæval court. First there
+was the passive Venezuelan possession; then the active, enterprising,
+money-making reign of the North American; having
+as its natural result the jealousy of Castro, his oppression
+and injustice to the American Company; their rebellion,
+in which they aided a great revolution against Castro; his
+revenge being to seize the property and put it in charge of
+Venezuelans. Then came the departure of the American<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>[92]</span>
+Company, which had done so much to develop the Pitch
+Lake, followed by the arrival of the Venezuelans appointed
+by the Government—men who knew just about as much
+about managing a great Pitch Lake as they did about guiding
+an aëroplane. We were told of the time long before the
+advent of the Lugo family—when for weeks it was necessary
+to live always on the alert, with revolver ever ready for defence;
+when the very men with whom one sat down at table were
+capable of attempting to poison the food, in order to free
+themselves of English-speaking men, who might perhaps
+witness some ugly deed of treachery or defalcation.</p>
+
+<p>This is the very long story in a nutshell. We began then to
+understand why the house was so fort-like in structure. It
+had been built to withstand assault. Only a few months
+before our visit it had been attacked by a party of Revolutionists
+who hoped to find money in the company safe; and
+five men had been killed and several injured.</p>
+
+<p>This thrilling tale was told in the emotionless matter-of-fact
+way in which one might describe the moves in a game
+of chess.</p>
+
+<p>From the moment our sloop sailed out of the harbor of
+Port of Spain the memory of the old familiar every-day world
+had seemed to grow dimmer and dimmer. Was it possible
+that there really was such a place as New York City, with
+its clanging street-cars, its trains and subways and elevated
+roads thronged with people, <i>en masse</i> all as much alike as an
+army of ants? At that very hour the New York Theatres
+were pouring their gay crowds into the brilliantly lighted
+streets. How far away it all seemed, down there in the great
+primeval forest of another continent! We walked out under
+the stars to the edge of the forest, black and mysterious,
+teeming with the hidden life, which we were so eager to
+study. Our world, for the present, was this forest wilderness,
+stretching unbroken for mile upon mile, with only the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>[93]</span>
+twinkling lights of Guanoco to remind us of human habitations.
+I dreamed that night of being stabbed in the back by
+a howling monkey, while the safe of the Pitch Lake Company
+was broken into by a band of shrieking Macaws!</p>
+
+<p>On the morning after our arrival at Guanoco we sorrowfully
+said good-by to the “Josefa Jacinta.” As we watched her
+sail away we consoled ourselves by planning another and a
+longer trip on her—a trip which never took place. Looking
+back after almost two years I realize that life can bring me
+few experiences more full of interest and charm than those
+days on a little Venezuelan sloop exploring the mysterious
+untrodden mangroves! “How <i>could</i> you enjoy it?” I am
+often asked: but the trifling discomforts were all in the day’s
+work and more than compensated by the beauty and freedom
+and wonder of it all. They served to make us know
+that it was not all a dream.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure049" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure049.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 49. Loading Pitch on the Hand Cars.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Our days at Guanoco began early and were full to overflowing
+of interest and of work. In the heat of midday we
+pressed flowers, skinned birds and wrote up our journals,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>[94]</span>
+but in spite of being so busy, we found time to get a little
+into the atmosphere of the human life.</p>
+
+<p>Here is the daily program at the lake of pitch,—this little
+outpost of humanity, deep hidden in the tropical jungle. At
+daybreak the group of sheds and thatched huts gives up a
+horde of Trinidadian negroes; great black fellows, giants in
+strength, children in mind. Amid a perfect medley of
+excitement and uproar, breakfast is prepared. We hear
+sounds which <i>must</i> mean at least the violent death of several,
+and as one listens to the shrieks and groans, the imagination
+easily supplies the terrible blows and struggles. But
+a closer look only shows one of these great children down on
+his knees, calling on everything which occurs to him or
+enters his vision to witness that he did <i>not</i> steal the sixpence
+from <i>Napoleon</i>, of which some one has accused him, perhaps
+in jest.</p>
+
+<p>Yet all this is calmness compared to the later rush for the
+best cars to use in the day’s work. It would delight a Sophomore’s
+heart to see the mêlée. But somehow all is straightened
+out and off go the hand trucks, crawling along the
+rickety rails out over the lake, like beads sliding along a string.
+Here a car has reached the end of the line. The negro
+selects a place fairly clear of vegetation, takes his broad adze,
+and shears away the upper few inches of roots and mould.
+Then with deep swift strokes he outlines a big chunk of the
+shiny black gum, cuts it loose, and carries it on his head to
+his car. So malleable is the pitch that by the time he has half
+filled the little iron truck the pitch has settled down and
+filled all interstices. He trundles back the car and dumps it
+into one of the larger wooden trucks which will take it to
+Guanoco. He now receives a check which is redeemable
+for fifteen cents and the first link in the commercialization
+of the pitch is finished. Along the wavering line of temporary
+rails over which the hand-cars are pushed back and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a>[95]</span>
+forth, are dozens of grave-like holes. Those nearer the railroad
+end are smooth-edged and filled with soft pitch on which
+as yet no vegetation has taken root. Farther along they are
+filled with water, and still farther we find them in the process
+of being excavated.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp93" id="figure050" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure050.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 50. Mangrove Wilderness from the High Land at Guanoco.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The men dig down until they have reached a depth of five
+or six feet, and then start in a new place. The hole is filled
+by the first rain; water-bugs fly to the little pool, frogs
+lay their eggs in it, queer fish wriggle their way to it and
+for a brief space it supports a considerable aquatic life.
+Then new soft pitch begins to ooze up and in a few more
+weeks the plug of viscid black gum has reached the level of
+the ground and the scar is soon healed over by a thin growth
+of grass.</p>
+
+<p>In the rainy season the holes fill at once with water,
+and indeed the whole plain is immersed to the depth of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a>[96]</span>
+a foot or more; then the men have to work up to their
+waists in water, chopping beneath the surface, prying the
+pieces loose with their toes and tearing the chunks off by
+taking long breaths and reaching far down for a few seconds
+at a time.</p>
+
+<p>When we cross our asphalt streets and smell the tarry odor
+and feel its softness under a mid-summer’s sun, let us think
+of the strange lake in the tropical wilderness.</p>
+
+<p>The table talk at “Headquarters,” was often most amusing.
+Torrents of Spanish eloquence and gesticulations kept
+our English ears ever on the alert to follow the meaning,
+and our sense of humor ever under strict control to preserve
+well-bred gravity when such statements were made as
+“Venezuela leads not only all the South American countries,
+but all those of North America as well, in literature,
+art, science and commerce. When our General Blank
+went to New York the greatest ovation ever paid any
+general in the world was given him. New York remained
+amazed!”</p>
+
+<p>Once only did I look amused and I have never quite
+recovered from my mortification at thus disgracing myself.
+Whatever the faults of the Spaniard may be, he never smiles
+when he is not intended to; not even at the laughable mistakes
+which we foreigners make when we are learning his
+beautiful language. I try to say in extenuation of my
+unseemly mirth that the Spaniard has no sense of humor
+and that we should very much prefer having him laugh at
+our mistakes and letting us correct them. But all to no purpose.
+I know that I did not behave like a well conducted
+<i>Venezolana</i>, and nothing can alter that fact.</p>
+
+<p>The three Venezuelans had been put in charge of the
+Pitch Lake,—because their “Sister’s husband’s niece”
+had power in the court of Castro. Among their regular
+duties they included singing airs from the operas, reading
+Don Quixote and the Caracas newspapers and playing
+dominos.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"></a>[97]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp97" id="figure051" style="max-width: 40.625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure051.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 51. Inhabitants of Guanoco assembled for a Dance.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>[98]</span></p>
+
+<p>They had provided themselves with elaborate costumes for
+the rôle; they carried big revolvers and wore huge green and
+white cork helmets, khaki riding clothes, puttees, spurs, and
+carried riding whips. There was not a horse within fifty
+miles! No horse, even had there been one, could penetrate
+the tiny forest trails about Guanoco.</p>
+
+<p>In the dancing sunlight and shadows and the orchid-fragrant
+air it was hard to picture spilt blood and intrigue and
+treachery, and harder still to prophesy the sad times that were
+to come upon Guanoco. Yet while we were there the air
+teemed with revolutionary rumors. The <i>Jefe civil</i>, as the
+chief magistrate was called, was off day after day investigating
+first one suspicion and then another, returning utterly
+spent with the exhaustion of unresting days and nights upon
+the trail. Revolutionists had attempted to land guns on the
+near-by coast. There had been a skirmish and several men
+had been killed.</p>
+
+<p>All the available guns and ammunition were gotten together
+and every night the doors were barred securely; for what the
+revolutionists chiefly needed was money, and should there be
+an uprising in northeastern Venezuela, the Pitch Lake headquarters
+would be the first point of attack. It was in charge
+of Castro sympathizers, there might be large sums of money
+in the Company’s safe and it was practically unprotected.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime diplomatic relations between our United
+States and Venezuela had been severed and one morning a
+United States battleship was discovered lying quietly in the
+harbor of La Guayra. The numbers of <i>la Constitucional</i>—a
+month old when they reached us—were beginning to talk
+of war and to boast of the ease with which Venezuela would
+erase the United States of America from the face of the
+globe. Bitter things were said about the sister republic in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>[99]</span>
+the north. And there we were living on the bone of contention
+itself.</p>
+
+<p>It was about this time that I began to see the advisability of
+being more than ordinarily civil; and so it happened that I
+was led into playing cards for the first and only time for
+money and that on a Sunday! We had been working almost
+incessantly and I had begun to feel that, even if it was to
+Mr. Grell that we were indebted for the hospitality, it was
+not quite nice for us to appear only at “feeding time,” particularly
+as our long days out of doors gave us such appalling
+appetites. So on this occasion when I was asked to make a
+fourth at cards, I saw no way out of it. Moreover, the battleship
+lay in the harbor of La Guayra, and my countrymen
+were in sad disfavor in Venezuela. W—— had ignominiously
+deserted and gone to bed, so there was only one sleepy little
+woman left to uphold the honor of a great nation!</p>
+
+<p>The game was “<i>Siete y media</i>,”—“seven and a half.” I
+forget the rules now. I only remember that they seemed very
+intricate as explained to me in Spanish. Fortunately for me,
+the stakes were low, for I steadily lost all the time. “<i>Grano
+por grano la gallina come</i>,” quoted Mr. Lugo,—“grain by
+grain the hen eats.”</p>
+
+<p>Later he remarked how he hated to win from the señorita—but
+the señorita observed that he hated it much as the famous
+walrus wept for the oysters while—</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent12">“... he sorted out</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Those of the largest size,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Holding his pocket-handkerchief</div>
+    <div class="verse indent2">Before his streaming eyes.”</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>I was wofully tired and sleepy. I did not at all know the
+etiquette of gambling! And I thought the loser must not be a
+“quitter”—even if the extent of her losses was only “<i>dos
+reales</i>,” or twenty-five cents. So I played on until at midnight
+the game was declared over.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>[100]</span></p>
+
+<p>It is well that virtue is its own reward, as it has no other,
+for I was told the next morning by a husband who had had
+a perfectly good night’s sleep—that I was a very foolish
+person indeed to sit up playing cards with those men, and
+that the loser could always stop: it was the winner who must
+not propose it.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure052" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure052.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 52. A Palm-sheath Rocking Toy.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The negroes from the Pitch Lake always came down on
+Saturday nights and serenaded us with wild Creole airs, and
+at the sound of the quaterns and violins huge hairy tarantulas
+would come forth from their hiding-places in our rooms and
+creep briskly here and there over walls and floor. We were
+greatly interested in this effect of the vibrations of sound, but
+we never bothered the great creatures in their strange “tarentelles,”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>[101]</span>
+and they paid no attention to us. The venomous
+effect of the bites of all these eight or hundred-legged beings
+is greatly exaggerated, and there is absolutely no serious danger
+to a healthy person with good red blood in his veins; in
+some of the half-starved, rum-drinking natives the scratch of
+a pin would induce blood-poisoning.</p>
+
+<p>Labor was easily secured in Guanoco. The morning after
+our arrival we expressed a wish to employ a boy to act as
+attendant, carrying camera, gun, butterfly net, etc., when we
+went on our long tramps. One of the young men at headquarters
+went to the door and called “<i>muchacho</i>,” and at
+once a small boy appeared. I should have judged his age
+to be between eleven and twelve; but he himself did not
+know. He said his grandmother was “keeping his age.” A
+charming idea is that Venezuelan custom of having some
+responsible member of the family keep all the ages. Think
+of being able to say truthfully that you really do not know how
+old you are! But then a Venezuelan woman never confesses
+to more than twenty-seven, no matter what may have been the
+flight of time.</p>
+
+<p>Our small servant’s name proved to be Maximiliano Romero,
+and with supreme self possession, boldly spitting to the
+right and left, he professed himself willing to enter our service.
+Like a true Venezuelan he used expectoration to punctuate all
+his remarks. What a quaint little figure he was, topped by
+a huge straw hat with a high peaked crown; the hat the work
+of the little brown hands of Max himself, for he was a hat-maker
+by profession. His face was alert but very grave.
+He rarely smiled, but when he did it was in no half-hearted
+way, but with an abandon of childish glee. I found myself
+devoting a good deal of valuable time to trying to bring into
+being that charming smile of Maximiliano’s. One never
+knew just what would touch the right chord. Once he went
+off into gales of merriment at the escape of a lizard which we<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>[102]</span>
+were trying to photograph. He always saw the funny side
+of our mishaps.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp88" id="figure053" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure053.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 53. Sheath in
+  <a href="#figure052">Fig. 52</a>, covering the Flower of a Palm.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Max showed plainly in what esteem he held naturalists.
+The first day he went out with us he was neatly dressed in
+dark blue jeans. When he appeared on the second morning
+we did not recognize him. A small ragamuffin stood before
+us, stamping like a pony to drive away the flies, which hovered
+about his ankles. His clothes were a mass of rags—it was
+impossible to say what had been the original color or material.
+Max had taken our measure and decided that people
+who tramped through the “bush” as we did were not worthy
+of anything better than rags.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes in the jungle we would meet Indian women
+who, living far in the interior, were on their way to Guanoco
+to buy machetes, fish-hooks and other articles of civilization.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>[103]</span>
+They would always stop and make friends with us, with child-like
+curiosity asking where we came from, and why we
+wanted birds and lizards and butterflies, and murmuring the
+words dear to every woman’s heart in all lands, “<i>Que jovencita!</i>”
+which literally translated is “What a young little
+thing!” Very simple-hearted are these poor Indian women
+and so hard are their lives that at a very early age do they
+cease to be <i>jovencita</i>.</p>
+
+<p>We would often meet the wandering tribes of Guarauno
+Indians, who live nearly always upon the march, carrying
+all their worldly possessions upon their backs and sleeping
+wherever night happens to find them. They very rarely
+knew even a word of Spanish and shunned any intercourse
+with strangers, scorning the inventions of civilization and
+using the poisoned arrows of their ancestors.</p>
+
+<p>One Sunday morning one of the laborers at the near-by
+Pitch Lake, bearing the pious name of José de Jesus Zamoro,
+came into headquarters to invite us to a dance that afternoon
+at his house. The house of Zamoro had nothing particularly
+to recommend it as a ballroom; for the floor was of dirt, the
+ceiling low and the walls windowless. But it was crowded;
+the air stifling and the dancers dripping with perspiration.
+The music was wild and strange, the man who shook the
+<i>maracas</i>—an instrument consisting of two gourds filled with
+dried seeds which is shaken in time to the music—often
+breaking into a weird song, making up the words as he went
+along, with some joke about each dancer. As the songster’s
+zeal waxed high he described himself as being so great that
+“where he stood the earth trembled.”</p>
+
+<p>Between dances the ladies’ last partners were supposed to
+take them into the next room where drinks were for sale.
+This was the explanation of Zamoro’s zeal for dances: music
+and dance hall were free, but a substantial profit came from
+the drinks.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>[104]</span></p>
+
+<p>The ball gowns had but one beauty—that of originality.
+There was always an unfortunate hiatus between bodices
+and skirts, which was partly concealed by the long straight
+black hair which hung down the backs of the women. The
+shoes were in a piteous condition, never the right size, very
+seldom mates and not infrequently both were for the same
+foot. But all the skirts had trains and all ears bore ear-rings.
+We were told that these women often danced all day and all
+night, until they became perfectly dazed, their feet moving
+mechanically in time to the music of the national dance—the
+<i>joropa</i>, which is a cross between a clog dance and a waltz.</p>
+
+<p>We saw dancing the women whose <i>curiara</i> had so narrowly
+escaped a fatal collision with our sloop in the Guarapiche.
+The Captain had said they were leaving Maturin “to operate
+some speculation in Guanoco—perhaps even to find husbands.”
+And here among so many men, for the population
+of Guanoco was chiefly composed of men employed at the
+lake, surely there was hope, even for adventuresses so black
+and uncouth as these. Here also we met one of Guanoco’s
+most amusing characters, a big black Trinidad negro. He
+was full of the superiority of one who had seen the world;
+for he had once been to England as stateroom steward on one
+of the big steamers. He now dropped his h’s, called his wife
+“Lady Mackáy” and on Sundays wore a monocle.</p>
+
+<p>It was twilight as we walked home through the little settlement.
+At one of the huts two little naked babies were playing
+“rock-a-by” in the great curved sheaths which protect the
+blossom of the moriche, or eta palm. At another a child
+came out and sang a little Spanish song for us—all about
+her sins and the confession she must make to the priest, the
+refrain being “<i>Mi penetencia! mi penetencia!</i>” and she sang
+it with her small hands clasped and her head devoutly bowed.
+A few coins made the wee penitent superlatively happy. Her
+mother must have taught her the song, for in Guanoco there
+was no priest, no school, no doctor. The two young West
+Indians at headquarters (neither much more than twenty
+years old) officiated at all funerals, being Catholic or Protestant,
+in Spanish or English, as the case demanded. They
+prescribed for all diseases, from the prevalent fever to the
+woman who was suffering greatly but could give no more
+definite description of her trouble than that she had a “pain
+that walked.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>[105]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure054" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure054.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 54. Priestless Chapel at Guanoco.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>[106]</span></p>
+
+<p>I could never understand the fever so common at Guanoco:
+for I never knew a place more free from mosquitoes and from
+insects of every description. We were continually in the sun
+and often in the rain, yet we both kept in perfect health.</p>
+
+<p>The women of the village had converted a small open shed
+into a chapel, with an altar, on which were all the offerings
+they could make, a few candles, some bits of gilt paper and
+tinsel, a rude wooden cross and a wretched little chromo of
+the Virgin. Here, as we passed, we saw the women kneeling,
+for where else could they take their troubles!</p>
+
+<p>At last our Venezuelan experiences were a thing of the past,
+and we were homeward bound, leaving behind us the dear
+delightful never-know-what’s-going-to-happen life; and realizing,
+as our ship cut her way through the countless “knots”
+of dashing waves, that as Maximiliano had said with a shake
+of his head, when we laughingly asked him if he did not want
+to go with us, “<i>esta tan léjos</i>”—it is so far!</p>
+
+<p class="tb">Much has happened at Guanoco since the days of our
+visit.</p>
+
+<p>Very soon after our departure, Castro fearing the smouldering
+revolutionary plots in Trinidad, ordered all the ports of
+eastern Venezuela closed. Later came the deadly bubonic
+plague sealing for many months all the ports of the unfortunate
+country. Then indeed trouble descended upon poor
+little Guanoco. It was an essentially non-agricultural part<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>[107]</span>
+of the country. The one industry had been the digging of
+pitch, the company’s boat plying between Guanoco and Trinidad
+having brought all necessary supplies. Now with all
+communication cut off the people were in a piteous condition.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp56" id="figure055" style="max-width: 18.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure055.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 55. Guarauno Indian Papoose.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>In the revolution of the Wheel of Fate—which whirls so
+rapidly in Venezuela,—the Lugo family had been deposed
+and a new Venezuelan administrator appointed in their
+place. Having known the Lugos, I like to think that they
+would have been less heartless than their successor, who, so
+the report goes, sold what supplies there were to the starving
+people at cruelly exorbitant prices.</p>
+
+<p>No matter how much one may love Nature, one cannot
+help feeling how unmoved she is in the face of suffering.
+Human beings might starve and sicken and die at Guanoco,
+but the sunshine would be just as warm and glowing and the
+wind in the palm trees just as musical as ever.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>[108]</span></p>
+
+<p>With the cutting off of communication between Venezuela
+and Trinidad, Captain Truxillo’s occupation was gone.
+The “Josefa Jacinta” no longer plied busily back and forth
+between Port of Spain and Maturin, driving a brisk trade in
+hammocks, groceries and hides; and so at last she passed
+from the possession of Captain Truxillo to that of some more
+prosperous trader who could afford to wait for the reopening
+of commerce.</p>
+
+<p>For a year our old Captain watched his little vessel guided
+out of the harbor of Port of Spain, with a strange hand at
+the helm, and a strange voice in command. Then one day
+she sailed away never to return—but to be run aground and
+lost on a desolate and lonely part of the Venezuelan coast.</p>
+
+<p>What became of her new Captain and crew we never heard.
+We knew only that the “Josefa Jacinta” was lost, and that
+we could never sail her again, except on dream caños in a
+phantom wilderness.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>[109]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="PART_II"><span class="smaller">PART II</span><br>
+OUR SECOND SEARCH<br>
+BRITISH GUIANA</h2>
+
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>[110]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure056" style="max-width: 62.5em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure056.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 56. Map of our
+  Three Expeditions into British Guiana.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a>[111]</span></p>
+
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.<br>
+<span class="smaller">GEORGETOWN.</span></h3>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>Another year has slipped past and again we are
+southward bound, toward that Mecca—the tropics—which
+never ceases to call us. The time is the fifteenth of
+February, 1909; the place, the Royal Dutch Mail Steamship
+“Coppename.”</p>
+
+<p>Nine days out from New York at three o’clock in the
+morning we are roused suddenly from sleep by a gentle
+roaring in our ears. When we have gained partial consciousness
+we realize it is the basso-profundo whisper of good Captain
+Haasnoot summoning us to the bridge. We ask no
+questions for we have learned that the voice of the genial
+Dutchman means something worth while, whether it is
+raised in a thunderous roar of “<i>Hofmeister!</i>” or as now in
+gentler accents. Wrapped in flapping blankets, we climb
+the steep ladder to the bridge, there to enjoy for half an hour
+a most wonderful display of phosphorescence—even excelling
+that often visible in the Bay of Fundy. The Captain in all
+his world-wide sea-faring has never seen anything to equal it.</p>
+
+<p>We are only a short distance off the shore of British
+Guiana and the ocean is thick with sediment from the rivers.
+The sky is overcast and no light comes from the moon and
+stars, and yet the whole sea is plainly visible. The horizon
+glows with a dull, yellow flare against the jet black sky, and
+the myriad foam-caps shimmer as with brighter flames.
+The quenching of these in the opaque water gives a vivid
+impression of an enormous conflagration half hidden behind
+billows of smoke.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a>[112]</span></p>
+
+<p>At day-break Georgetown is in sight—a low, flat line of
+wharfs, with a background of galvanized tin roofs and tall
+bending palm trees. Never was a fairyland set in so prosaic
+a frame!</p>
+
+<p>With what mingled feelings our little ship’s family lean on
+the rail and scan the shore! To some the thought comes of
+the miracles of yellow gold and precious stones hidden deep
+beneath the primitive forests; to other sea-weary travellers
+the stability of the shore appeals most; while we two watch
+for the first hint of bird life. Our desire is gratified before
+that of any of the others, for over the water there comes the
+first morning call of the great yellow Tyrant<span class="bird"><a href="#bird101">101</a></span>—<i>Kis-ka-dee!</i>
+bringing a hundred memories of the tropics.</p>
+
+<p>As we steam slowly up to the wharf a small flock of Gray-breasted
+Martins<span class="bird"><a href="#bird122">122</a></span> twitters above our heads, a Black Vulture<span class="bird"><a href="#bird51">51</a></span>
+swings over the tin roofs, the jubilant song of a Guiana
+House Wren<span class="bird"><a href="#bird124">124</a></span> reaches our ear, and our Second Search has
+begun.</p>
+
+<p>To those who seek for wildernesses there is not much of
+interest in Georgetown, save the museum and the botanical
+garden. Yet there is no doubt that the city is one of the
+most attractive in the tropics, and when the inhabitants are
+aroused to a sense of the opportunities which they are throwing
+away, it will become a famous tourist resort; awakening
+the country to new life and bringing shekels to the coffers
+of its merchants. Hotels and mosquitoes are the two keys
+to the situation—the one to be acquired, the other banished.
+When this is done, the many popular winter resorts will
+be hard put to it to retain their lucrative migrants from
+the North. The inhabitants of Georgetown have one
+regrettable failing—an unreasoning fear and dread of
+their own country. They cling to their narrow strip of
+coastal territory, where they work and play, live and die,
+many of them without ever having been five miles away<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>[113]</span>
+from the sea. The majority of the inhabitants of French
+Guiana are convicts, chained for life to their prisons; here
+the good people of British Guiana bind themselves with
+imaginary bonds and picture their wonderful land as teeming
+with serpents and heaven-knows-what other terrors.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure057" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure057.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 57. Street in Georgetown.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Another unfortunate failing is the firm conviction of some of
+the influential citizens that there is no truth in the mosquito
+theory as a cause of malaria and yellow fever.</p>
+
+<p>A distinguished English scientist, recently sent to investigate
+yellow fever in Barbados and British Guiana, was
+holding up as an example to the citizens of Georgetown the
+Barbadian custom of keeping fishes in their water cisterns;
+explaining that the fishes devoured the mosquito larvæ and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>[114]</span>
+thus kept down the number of mosquitoes. A Barbadian
+who chanced to be in the audience interrupted the scientist
+by saying, “Oh, but that is not the reason they put fishes
+in the cisterns. It is to make sure the water has not been
+poisoned by some enemy”!</p>
+
+<p>Until the mosquito is exterminated in Georgetown the
+tourist will prefer to go elsewhere, even though that be to a
+less beautiful spot.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure058" style="max-width: 25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure058.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 58. Kiskadee Tyrant Flycatcher.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>We were advised to spend all our time in Georgetown, where
+we might drink pink swizzles (than which no worse medicine
+exists!) or read in the cool library, or study the natural history
+of the country impaled on pins or stuffed with cotton (both
+of which are improving occupations but can be done quite
+as well in New York). Every moment spent in streets of
+human making seemed sacrilege when the real wilderness—the
+wilderness of Waterton, of Schomburgk and of im Thurn—beckoned
+to us just beyond.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>[115]</span></p>
+
+<p>Armed with proper letters of introduction and travelling
+in the name of science, one is treated with all courtesy by
+Guiana officials. The customs give no trouble, save that
+one pays a deposit of twelve per cent on cameras, guns and
+cartridges.</p>
+
+<p>We were glad to find that the most difficult privilege to
+obtain is a permit to collect birds, and the very stringent
+laws in this respect are an honor to the Governor and his
+colonial officials.<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a> Thanks to the absence of the plume and
+general millinery hunter, the game hog and the wholesale
+collector, birds are abundant and tame. We were in the
+colony just two months and shot only about one hundred
+specimens, all of which were secured because of some special<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>[116]</span>
+interest. We brought home some two hundred and eighty
+live birds which are now housed in the New York Zoölogical
+Park.</p>
+
+<p>Once off the single wharf-lined, business street of Georgetown,
+one is instantly struck by the beauty of the place.
+Green trees, flowering vines and shrubs are everywhere, half
+hiding the ugly, tropical architecture. The streets are all
+wide, some with gravel walks down the centre, shaded with
+the graceful saman trees; others with central trenches filled
+with the beautiful <i>Victoria regia</i>—here a native.</p>
+
+<p>Two species of big Tyrant Flycatchers <span class="bird"><a href="#bird101">101</a></span>, <span class="bird"><a href="#bird103">103</a></span> are the English
+Sparrows of the city and White-breasted Robins,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird128">128</a></span>
+Palm <span class="bird"><a href="#bird144">144</a></span> and Silver-beak<span class="bird"><a href="#bird146">146</a></span> Tanagers perch on the limbs of
+trees at one’s very window.</p>
+
+<p>Although we are anxious to start on our first expedition
+into the “bush,” as the primeval forests of the interior
+are called, yet a week passes very pleasantly in the city
+itself.</p>
+
+<p>The street life is a passing pageant, full of interest and of
+the charm of novelty for the Northerner. Carriages roll
+past in which sit very correctly dressed and typical English
+women; still others are filled with creoles, some to all appearances
+perfectly white, others in which the infusion of negro
+blood is very apparent. Many of the creole women have a
+certain languid beauty and a good deal of grace and self-possession.
+The passing of the liveried carriage of the
+Governor causes a ripple of excitement. It is five o’clock,
+the fashionable hour for driving, and all these equipages
+are bound for the sea-wall, where the occupants sit and
+listen to an excellent band, enjoy the sea breeze and chat with
+their neighbors about the all-important happenings of the
+social set of Georgetown; while the pale-faced children dig
+in the sand or run shrieking with glee from an incoming
+wave, just as do their rosy contemporaries of the North.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>[117]</span></p>
+
+<p>Another picture is the coolie in his loose, white garments
+and turban and his sinewy, bare, brown legs. He gazes at
+you as calmly and as unmoved as though you were not.
+Even the lowest coolie bears about him this unconscious dignity
+of an ancient race and a civilization that was old when
+we were but beginning.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp94" id="figure059" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure059.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 59. Coolie Woman and Negress.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The coolie women make a vivid spot of color in our
+pageant—like some glowing tropical flower. Many of them
+are beautiful in feature and all are graceful in bearing.
+There never were women who so perfectly understood the
+art of walking. They swing along erect and lithe with a
+springing step and perfect coördination of every muscle.
+Their heavy bracelets and anklets tinkle musically as they
+move; their gay red and yellow and blue scarfs flutter in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>[118]</span>
+breeze. The poise of their bodies reflects the perfect calm
+and repose of their smooth, brown faces.</p>
+
+<p>What an antithesis they are to the ponderous old black
+women who are striding along, with bedraggled skirts gathered
+up in a roll around their massive waists. They are
+untidy and slatternly in dress, heavy and awkward in movement
+in comparison with the straight, slim, coolie women.
+They are full of loud laughter and talk and song. At every
+street corner they gather in friendly, jovial groups, while the
+coolie women are strangely silent and reserved. No wonder
+that these two races so hate and scorn one another, for in
+temperament they are as far apart as the poles!</p>
+
+<p>The British Guiana blacks were to us an unending source
+of interest and amusement. They were always courteous
+and kindly and most original. Even when swearing at each
+other their manner was always polite and each anathema
+ended with a civil “Suh!” Their dialect was at first very
+difficult to understand, but when our ears became familiar
+with it we found it singularly attractive. All the a’s are
+broad, even in such words as bad and man; while the intonation
+is indescribable, the verbs in a sentence being always
+emphasized and given a slight rising inflection, as for example,
+“I have <i>been</i> to Berbice.” An interrogation is often
+not at all indicated by the form of a question, but merely by
+the rising inflection, as—“These are nice?” The general
+effect of their speech is a very musical and distinctive intonation.</p>
+
+<p>Always the irrepressible spirit of the black rises serenely
+above all the vicissitudes of life. A black woman from
+Arakaka was sentenced to a month in jail. Upon her return
+she was welcomed by a crowd of friends, all eager to hear
+something of that mysterious jail, to which none of them
+were sure they might not some day go. To their questions
+“How was it? how was it?” the heroine of the occasion<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>[119]</span>
+replied with great dignity, “Me chile, dey see I was a lady
+an’ dey didn’ give me de same work as de other prisoners.”
+Later, on a trip down the river, the same woman, meeting
+the magistrate who had sentenced her, proudly remarked,
+“<i>Now</i> I travel by meself”; her only previous experience in
+travelling having been under the escort of the police!</p>
+
+<p>Many of the blacks have far advanced cases of elephantiasis.
+In a five minutes’ walk one will see a half dozen
+examples of this deadly disease; but it takes more than elephantiasis
+or jail to sadden the volatile spirits of the negro!</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure060" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure060.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 60. The Georgetown Sea-wall.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Cosmopolitan as is the street pageant of Georgetown, it is,
+however, not so much so as that of Port of Spain. The coolies
+are even more numerous there than here, and in addition to
+the same sort of English and negro life, there is also an
+American, Spanish and French element. One hears on all
+sides the pretty French patois, and the musical Spanish of the
+South American is a constant delight. This large Spanish
+and French population make Port of Spain a decidedly
+Catholic city, and priests and nuns in unfamiliar garbs are
+always a part of the picture.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a>[120]</span></p>
+
+<p>It is very hard for us Northerners to realize that the course
+of a tropical day is much the same the year around. Here is
+a Georgetown day as we found it in February. At 5.30 <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span>
+it is still dark and the only sound is an occasional raucous
+crow from chanticleer. Soon a subdued murmur of sound is
+heard and this remains unchanged in volume for some time.
+Then the sunrise gun booms in the distance; a Kiskadee
+shrieks just outside our window; a score of others answer
+him; church chimes ring out; noisy coolie carts rattle past;
+negroes sing, dogs bark; an excellent brass band strikes up a
+two-step and amid all this pandemonium of sound the sun
+literally leaps above the horizon and instantly fills the world
+with brilliant color. The scene changes like magic; there
+is no dawn or dusk, night gives place to day without
+intermission. The temperature morning and evening is
+about 76°.</p>
+
+<p>Woven amid all the harsh cries of Kiskadees and Tanagers
+is heard the sweet warbling of the little House Wrens,
+reminding us of our singers of the North, and bubbling over
+with the same crisp, vocal vitality which we hear in early
+Spring in our own country.</p>
+
+<p>Like the morning, the tropical day itself is one of extremes.
+The morning dawns fresh and bracing; until nine o’clock one
+walks briskly, breathes deeply and can hardly realize that he
+is at sea-level within seven degrees of the equator. It is April
+and May in the calendar of one’s feelings. Then for an hour
+or two June reigns, and finally from eleven to five o’clock in
+the afternoon it is hot, sultry August. In the shade, however,
+it is always comfortable. From three o’clock on we experience
+the coolness of October and until darkness shuts suddenly
+down about half-past six—like the snuffing out of
+a candle—the temperature is perfect. The nights are delightfully
+cool. Mosquitoes are bad only in the houses and
+at night one’s net is a protection. The humidity is high but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>[121]</span>
+it is far more bearable than that of a summer in New York
+City, contrary to our usual idea of the tropics.</p>
+
+<p>The manner of rain in the tropics is peculiar: the atmosphere
+may be ablaze with brilliant sunshine, when a slight
+haze appears in the air and suddenly one realizes that a
+fine gentle rain is falling. This may cease as imperceptibly
+as it began, or increase to a terrific downpour—to give
+place perhaps a few minutes later to the clear tropic glare
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Before taking leave of Georgetown we must mention the
+three chief points of attraction. The sea-wall comes first
+and, as we have said, a most pleasant custom of the natives
+is to drive there in late afternoon and sit in their carriages.
+The concrete break-water is of vital importance to the town
+itself as a portion of the streets are below sea-level. The
+broad summit forms a mile or more of promenade, with a
+sandy beach on one side, lapped with waves which strive ever
+to break, but cannot because of the thick sediment which they
+hold in suspense. On the other side a double row of tall,
+graceful palms adds a touch of tropical beauty.</p>
+
+<p>The residences near the sea-wall are the coolest and most
+pleasant in the town and are practically free from mosquitoes.
+We spent more than one delightful evening in the garden at
+Kitty Villa as the guests of our charming American friends,
+Mr. and Mrs. Howell. From the open, veranda-like rooms
+one may watch the Yellow Orioles,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird159">159</a></span> the Brown-breasted
+Pygmy Grosbeaks,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird129">129</a></span> the Anis and Kiskadees going to roost.
+Just before dusk scores of the small Black Vultures<span class="bird"><a href="#bird51">51</a></span> appear,
+flying singly, or in twos and threes low over the trees and palms
+westward to some general roost. About this time the bats
+and the lightning bugs arrive, large numbers of very tiny bats
+hawking about after insects, and several large fruit-eaters
+with wings spreading almost two feet across. These haunt
+the fruit-laden sapadillo trees, and as the method of feeding of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>[122]</span>
+these curious creatures does not seem to be generally known
+we watch it with interest. One of the big fellows flits here
+and there, nipping first one fruit and then another. At last
+when a sweet or fully ripe one is found, the bat swoops up
+to it, alights head downward, and half enveloping it with
+his wings, bites away frantically for two or three seconds
+and then dashes off. This is repeated until darkness
+settles down, but never does the wary bat linger over his
+feast.</p>
+
+<p>In the north the sight of a single bat darting along on its
+eccentric way is not uncommon, but here we were soon to
+become accustomed to the sight of scores, some pursuing
+insects, or feeding on fruits, or waiting and watching for a
+chance to drink the blood of men and animals. More than
+twenty-five species have been found here within a few miles
+of the coast. Small Owls and nocturnal insectivorous
+birds are somewhat rare, and thus the bats have few foes
+and little competition in their aërial life.</p>
+
+<p>Late in the evening as we drive slowly homeward from the
+sea-wall we discover another interesting microcosm of the
+tropics. The road is well lighted with arc-lamps—sources
+of irresistible attraction to numberless insects, many of which
+drop stunned to the earth beneath. Some genius among the
+Georgetown toads has discovered this fact and passed the
+word along, until now one finds a circle of expectant amphibians
+squatted beneath each arc-light, with eyes and hopes
+lifted to the shining globe overhead. Now and then an unfortunate
+insect falls within the magic circle, when a toad leaps
+lazily forward and devours the morsel with one lightning-like
+flick of the tongue. Many of these toads (<i>Bufo agua</i>) are
+enormous fellows, a good hatful, standing full eight inches
+from their pudgy toes to their staring eyes, all comical,
+dignified, fat and sluggish, barely hopping aside in time to
+avoid the horse and carriage.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>[123]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp56" id="figure061" style="max-width: 14.0625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure061.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 61.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>To a visiting naturalist the
+museum is the place of greatest
+interest, and although the animals
+and birds are faded and
+poorly mounted, yet they are
+representative of the fauna of
+the country and are hence of great
+value in accustoming one’s eyes
+to the strange forms of life.
+The present Curator, Mr. James
+Rodway, did everything in his
+power to aid us, and we are indebted
+to him for many kindnesses.
+Although he is primarily
+a botanist, entomology occupies his attention at present,
+and the supply of species of the various orders of
+insects living in this region seems well-nigh inexhaustible.
+Mr. Rodway is a good example of the healthfulness of
+British Guiana, for he has lived there thirty-nine years and
+has been ill only one day. He accounts for this by his teetotalism,
+but perhaps the next person we meet will inform us
+that a half dozen swizzles a day are absolutely necessary to
+keep the breath of life within the body!</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure062" style="max-width: 15.625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure062.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 62.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The Botanical Gardens, under
+the able direction of Prof.
+J. B. Harrison, are a great
+credit to the colony. With
+beautiful vistas of palms and
+ornamental shrubs they combine
+smooth expanses of green
+lawns—a rare feature in a
+tropical landscape. Ponds and
+ditches are filled with Victoria
+regia and lotus, save one where
+a number of manatees keep the aquatic vegetation cropped
+close. A wonderful palm was in blossom at the time of
+our visit—a Taliput with a mass of bloom twelve feet
+in height which had begun to flower the month before.
+Governor Hodgson and Prof. Harrison gave us the freedom
+of the garden and placed at our disposal five circular
+aviaries which proved of inestimable value in housing the
+living birds which we were able to secure.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>[124]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp91" id="figure063" style="max-width: 40.625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure063.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 63. Victoria Regia in the Botanical Gardens.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>[125]</span></p>
+
+<p>Here Mr. Lee S. Crandall, our assistant, made his trapping
+headquarters after our return from our first inland expedition
+and here we spent many afternoons among the fields and bypaths.</p>
+
+<p>We soon found that bird-trapping in the tropics is a task
+beset by many difficulties. The extreme heat between the
+hours of ten and four o’clock make even the “tackiest”
+lime nearly as thin as water, and hardly capable of holding
+even the diminutive “doctor-bird” as the natives call the
+Hummingbirds. The call-birds, which are confined in very
+small cages, or cribs, cannot endure the high temperature
+under these conditions, and soon succumb if left out in
+the sun. Operations, therefore, must be confined to the
+few hours immediately following sunrise, and preceding
+sunset.</p>
+
+<p>Another feature, very trying to the bird-catcher, is the
+habit which most of the birds have of going singly or in pairs.
+A few of the Ictcrine birds, such as the Yellow-headed Blackbird,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird154">154</a></span>
+Cowbird,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird153">153</a></span> Little Boat-tailed Grackle,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird160">160</a></span> and most
+of the Cassiques, feed usually in flocks, sometimes of great
+size. In the deep bush of the interior it is the habit of birds
+of many species to search together for food, following a set
+route, and keeping closely to their time schedule. But ordinary
+call-birds and “set-ups” are not for these.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>[126]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp97" id="figure064" style="max-width: 40.625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure064.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 64. Lotus in Blossom.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>[127]</span></p>
+
+<p>This gregarious habit among widely varying birds is,
+however, at times, a great aid to the trapper. A cage containing
+a Yellow-bellied Calliste<span class="bird"><a href="#bird142">142</a></span> was one day placed in
+a tree about twenty feet high, and limed twigs arranged
+on neighboring branches. In two hours in the morning,
+two specimens of the same species, three Blue Tanagers,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird143">143</a></span>
+two Black-faced Callistes,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird141">141</a></span> two Toua-touas or Brown-breasted
+Pygmy Grosbeaks,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird129">129</a></span> and one Yellow Oriole<span class="bird"><a href="#bird159">159</a></span> were
+taken. The various species of Tanagers and Orioles are
+much more gregarious in feeding habits than the Finches,
+hence the variety caught. The Toua-touas were purely
+accidental visitors. The Finches can rarely be taken by a
+call-bird not of the same species.</p>
+
+<p>The black or coolie boy who makes his living at catching
+birds at “tuppence” each, sets out at daylight with his two
+or three call-birds in their cribs, arranged on a stick. Arrived
+at some secluded spot, where he has heard the song of an
+intended victim, he sets his call-birds on upright sticks of
+two or three feet in length and places on the top of each
+cage a strong wire, heavily smeared with the gum of the
+sapadillo. This wire is very carefully twisted so that it cannot
+by any possibility become loosened. This is, of course,
+contrary to the ethics of all good bird-catchers, for if the bird
+falls to the ground with its stick, it is much more certain to
+be secured, and less liable to injure itself. However, this is
+British Guiana.</p>
+
+<p>Having made his “set-up,” the youth steals softly back
+and conceals himself a short distance away. As soon as
+left to themselves, the birds, if they be experienced, commence
+their song. Soon, an answering call is heard. Instantly
+the decoys cease their song, and send forth their
+sharp call-notes. Soon the curious stranger appears, perhaps
+a fine adult male, full of eagerness for a battle. If this
+be the case the songs are again resumed, and the climax of
+the concert is almost certain to be the capture of the challenger.
+If the visitor be a coy female, the seductive call-notes<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>[128]</span>
+are continued, and, though the time required may be greater,
+she is nearly as certain to be captured. Callow youngsters
+out for their first exploring trip, are of course the easiest
+victims. But when the trapper has taken a bird or two
+from this locality he must move on or give up for the day,
+for he will take no more.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp56" id="figure065" style="max-width: 23.4375em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure065.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 65. Taliput Palm in Blossom.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The trapping methods of these people are, of course,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>[129]</span>
+very primitive. They know nothing of clap-nets; they laugh
+at the idea of catching birds with an Owl, as practised
+successfully in the North. A black boy will bend his
+gummed wire securely on a likely twig, and lie all day on
+his back in the shade, hoping that a bird may light on it.
+Birds to whose capture they are not equal are very apt to
+be “licked”—stunned by a bullet from a sling-shot—and
+foisted on the unwary purchaser. These unfortunates, of
+course, rarely live more than a day or two.</p>
+
+<p>No regard is shown for nesting birds or nestlings. Cassiques
+and Orioles are captured by adjusting a string about
+the mouth of the long pendulous nest, and closing it tightly
+when the bird has entered to hover its eggs. In two instances,
+a black boy was seen to capture the female from her nest, by
+creeping up and dropping his hat over her.</p>
+
+<p>Some use is made of primitive trap-cages, which are
+baited with plantain or sliced mangoes. Tanagers or
+“sackies” and various Orioles are taken in this manner.</p>
+
+<p>These simple people have, of course, no knowledge whatever
+of proper food for insectivorous or frugivorous birds.
+Various fruits, preferably plantain, are used, and it is truly
+surprising how long some individuals will survive on this
+too acid food. Mr. Howie King, Government Agent of the
+Northwest District, actually kept a specimen of the Yellow
+Oriole<span class="bird"><a href="#bird159">159</a></span> for over seven years on a strictly fruit diet!</p>
+
+<p>Birds and other creatures were very abundant and tame
+in the Botanical Gardens. Guiana Green Herons<span class="bird"><a href="#bird38">38</a></span> or
+“Shypooks” as the coolies call them, Spur-winged Jacanas<span class="bird"><a href="#bird23">23</a></span>
+and Gallinules<span class="bird"><a href="#bird13">13</a></span> walked here and there, the latter leading
+their dark-hued young over the Regia pads. Small crocodiles
+basked half out of the water, none over three feet in
+length, as abundant as turtles in a northern mill-pond.
+Several huge water buffalo, imported from the East Indies,
+looked strangely out of place in this hemisphere. Butterflies
+were scarce although a great variety of flowers were in
+profusion everywhere.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>[130]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="figure066" style="max-width: 29.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure066.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 66. Canal of the Crocodiles.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>[131]</span></p>
+
+<p>April seems to be the height of the breeding season for
+many birds. In one tree we found two wasps’ nests, and
+nests with eggs or young of the following six species of birds;
+the Red-winged Ground Dove,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird9">9</a></span> the Great<span class="bird"><a href="#bird101">101</a></span> and Lesser<span class="bird"><a href="#bird103">103</a></span>
+Kiskadees, White-shouldered Ground Fly-catcher or “Cotton-bird,”<span class="bird"><a href="#bird97">97</a></span>
+Gray Tody-flycatcher or “Pipitoori”<span class="bird"><a href="#bird99">99</a></span> and Cinereus
+Becard.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird114">114</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Chestnut Cuckoos of two species,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird77">77</a></span>, <span class="bird"><a href="#bird78">78</a></span> all four Kiskadees,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird101">101</a></span>, <span class="bird"><a href="#bird103">103</a></span>, <span class="bird"><a href="#bird104">104</a></span>, <span class="bird"><a href="#bird106">106</a></span>
+Caracaras,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird53">53</a></span> Black-faced Tanagers or
+“Bucktown Sackies,”<span class="bird"><a href="#bird141">141</a></span> Woodhewers, Elanias<span class="bird"><a href="#bird100">100</a></span> and other
+Flycatchers are a few among many birds which we were
+sure of seeing on every walk, while Anis, both great<span class="bird"><a href="#bird79">79</a></span> and
+small<span class="bird"><a href="#bird80">80</a></span> were everywhere.</p>
+
+<p>The Botanical Gardens are ideal for experimental botanical
+work and sugar cane in scores of varieties is being kept under
+observation. It is hard to believe that the delicate grass
+which we see springing up in the ditched fields will grow
+into the lofty and waving stalks of sugar cane. It is exceedingly
+variable and should afford excellent material
+for experimental study. The original yellow-stalked cane
+develops red and purple streaks in many combinations, due
+apparently to difference in soils. Cane sent to Louisiana will,
+within twelve years, produce much larger nodes owing to the
+plant having to fruit in six months instead of eleven or
+twelve. The stalk, however, does not gain correspondingly
+in diameter; so there is no increase in sugar capacity. Tropical
+plants can in many cases adapt themselves to shorter,
+northern summers, but temperate perennials soon die in the
+tropics from exhaustion, lacking their annual period of rest.</p>
+
+<p>The climatic conditions along the coast of British Guiana
+are peculiar, in that they simulate conditions usually existing
+at an altitude of two or three thousand feet. One result of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>[132]</span>
+this is seen in the flourishing tree-ferns planted in the Botanical
+Gardens.</p>
+
+<p>Insects were not particularly abundant in Georgetown,
+that is, for a tropical country. One day Mr. Rodway, with
+his accustomed kindness, brought us two very interesting
+chrysalids of the swallow-tailed butterfly, <i>Papilio polydamus</i>,
+illustrating the remarkable color variation in this species.
+Both were found in his yard, a few feet from each other, one
+suspended among green leaves and the other on a wooden
+stairway which was painted a brick-red. One of the chrysalids
+was leaf-green in color while the other was brown with
+brick-red trimmings!</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure067" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure067.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 67. Young Elania Flycatchers.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>There was one remarkable exception to the scarcity of
+insects in Georgetown. Late in February, a moth-like
+Homopterus insect, <i>Poeciloptera phalaenoides</i>, was present in
+enormous numbers on the Saman trees which line many of
+the streets. The largest individuals had wings almost an
+inch in length of a light cream color, covered for about half<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>[133]</span>
+their expanse with two masses of black dots. These were
+the males. The females were wingless and their bodies were
+covered with a long dense cottony secretion. The eggs and
+larvæ which lined thousands of the twigs were also protected
+by this white material. One could hardly walk
+without crushing these insects, so numerous were they.
+The only birds we observed feeding on them were Anis and
+domestic fowls.</p>
+
+<p>The middle of April found these insects as abundant as
+ever, still hatching in myriads, but by the 22d of the month
+the broods on the main streets seemed to be diminishing,
+although the hordes infesting the trees at the entrance of the
+Botanical Gardens were on the increase. Noticing that there
+seemed to be interesting nodes of variation in the number
+and patterns of the dots on the wings of the males, we set
+a Coolie boy to gathering them for future study and he soon
+had a thousand or more in a jar of alcohol.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>[134]</span></p>
+
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.<br>
+<span class="smaller">STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK.</span></h3>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>When we left New York we had planned to go up the
+Demerara River from Georgetown and spend our time
+on the Essequibo and Potaro. We had the good fortune,
+however, to take the same steamer with Mr. and Mrs. Gaylord
+Wilshire who were paying their annual visit to their two
+large gold concessions. The previous year they had travelled
+over many of the larger rivers and when we heard their glowing
+accounts of the northern and western wilderness compared
+to the rather thinned out “bush” and more travelled
+route of the Demerara, and were asked to join their party in
+going first to the Hoorie Mine in the northwest and then to
+the Aremu Mine in central Guiana, we hesitated not a moment.</p>
+
+<p>We left the Georgetown stelling, or wharf, at noon on
+March 2d, on the little steamer “Mazaruni” for the long
+coastwise trip to Morawhanna. Leaving the harbor flock
+of Laughing Gulls<span class="bird"><a href="#bird16">16</a></span> behind, we steered straight out to sea
+for several hours before turning to the northwest. The
+water all along the coast is very shallow and is so filled
+with sediment that even in a heavy gale the waves break
+but little. We passed the mouth of the Essequibo, thirty-five
+miles in width, with the two great islands, Wakenaam
+and Leguan, fairly in the centre of the mouth. The night
+was rough and windy and the little tub rolled wildly.</p>
+
+<p>At five o’clock next morning we were steaming slowly
+between two walls of green which brought vividly to mind
+our Venezuelan trip of last year. A few other plants were
+intermingled with the mangroves, but the solid ranks of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"></a>[135]</span>
+latter were unbroken. The colors were as wonderful as
+ever; the rich dark green on either hand, bright copper
+beneath and azure above. A few hours later we entered
+Mora Passage and here palms began to rear their heads over
+the other foliage. The air was cool and bracing, we breathed
+deeply and watched for the first signs of life. A half dozen
+Muscovy Ducks<span class="bird"><a href="#bird43">43</a></span> swung past, the giant master of the flock
+in the lead, their white wing mirrors flashing as they flew.
+Two Amazon Parrots rose ahead of us and the shore was
+alive with tiny white moths fluttering over the water.</p>
+
+<p>Morawhanna is within five miles of the Venezuela boundary,
+and politically is important as being the chief Government
+Station for the Northwest District, and being the
+entrance post for the gold fields of this region. As we tied
+up to the primitive wharf, Indians in their dug-outs or wood-skins
+appeared in numbers, bringing fish, rubber and other
+things for trade to the little Chinese store. Morawhanna itself
+consists of a straggling line of thatched huts extending
+irregularly along the bank and inland between the marshy
+spots.</p>
+
+<p>A short walk on shore showed the inhabitants to be Indians,
+blacks and half-breeds. Birds were abundant, especially
+Yellow-bellied Callistes,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird142">142</a></span> Honey Creepers, Tanagers, and
+the four commoner species of Kiskadee Tyrants<span class="bird"><a href="#bird101">101</a></span>, <span class="bird"><a href="#bird103">103</a></span>, <span class="bird"><a href="#bird104">104</a></span>, <span class="bird"><a href="#bird106">106</a></span>.
+A large Skimmer<span class="bird"><a href="#bird17">17</a></span> flew past the boat and later we saw
+several flocks.</p>
+
+<p>We expected to meet the launch from the Hoorie Mine, but
+as it had not yet arrived, we boarded the steamer again and
+went on with it to the end of its route at Mount Everard.
+We left Morawhanna at half-past ten in the morning and
+reached our destination five hours later. Although all this
+country is low and marshy, yet the White Mangrove and the
+Courida, or Red Mangrove, here give place to a variegated
+forest growth, and we soon saw our first Mora trees,—huge
+we thought them, but to be dwarfed by the inland giants of
+our succeeding expeditions. The walls of vegetation were
+seventy or eighty feet in height, draped by vines, while dead
+branches protruded here and there from the water near shore.
+Many Snake-birds<span class="bird"><a href="#bird48">48</a></span> were perched on these snags, from
+which they dropped silently into the water at our approach
+and swam off with body immersed.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"></a>[136]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="figure068" style="max-width: 29.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure068.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 68. Typical Indian House at Morawhanna.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"></a>[137]</span></p>
+
+<p>Blue-and-Yellow Macaws<span class="bird"><a href="#bird61">61</a></span> were common—always as
+usual in multiples of two. We observed them a half dozen
+times in different reaches of the river, four in the first group,
+then eight, two, six, four and two. A trio of American
+Egrets<span class="bird"><a href="#bird32">32</a></span> kept flying ahead of us for several miles, hemmed
+in by the lofty walls of foliage, alighting now and then and
+waiting for the steamer. At last when only ten yards distant
+they rose and floated over our heads.</p>
+
+<p>Once a splendid Guiana Crested Eagle<span class="bird"><a href="#bird57">57</a></span> flew past and
+alighted on a dead tree, and twice we saw small colonies
+of Yellow<span class="bird"><a href="#bird151">151</a></span> and Red-backed<span class="bird"><a href="#bird152">152</a></span> Cassiques nesting in isolated
+Mora trees <i>out in the water</i>; a new method of protection on
+the part of these intelligent birds. At occasional intervals a
+nesting pair of White-throated Kingbirds<span class="bird"><a href="#bird106">106</a></span> was seen, but
+no other of the Tyrants which are so common about houses
+in this region. The event of the day came when we caught
+a flash of white from a Buzzard floating high overhead and
+our stereos showed a King Vulture<span class="bird"><a href="#bird50">50</a></span> circling slowly around,
+craning his wattled head down at us as he drifted past. We
+had never expected to see this bird near the coast and
+indeed we saw no others during our entire stay in Guiana.</p>
+
+<p>As we steamed past a wind-break we caught a momentary
+glimpse of two wee naked Indian children paddling away
+in a wood-skin while behind them their bronze-skinned
+parents watched us silently.</p>
+
+<p>Mount Everard lies about fifty miles from Morawhanna
+up the Barima River and consists of a ramshackle hotel and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"></a>[138]</span>
+several logies—the latter being mere open sheds from whose
+rafters hammocks may be hung. The whole country hereabouts
+is low, except at this point where two small conical
+hills arise—one on each side of the river—bearing the high-sounding
+names of Mounts Everard and Terminus. The
+forest has been partly cleared from these and we attempted to
+explore the neighboring country. We soon gave it up as the
+underbrush was too thick, and even when we forced a way
+through it there was no footing but muddy water. Cowpaths
+led over the “mounts” which seemed to be composed
+of red, sticky clay. Half way up Mount Everard we found
+an enormous terrestrial ants’ nest, some fifteen feet across,
+bare of vegetation and with well-marked roads, four to six
+inches wide, leading out into the jungle. A little prodding
+with a stick brought out scores of huge-jawed soldiers
+(<i>Atta cephalotes</i>).</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure069" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure069.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 69. Three Year Olds at Home in their Wood-skin.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The most interesting birds were the well-named Magpie<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"></a>[139]</span>
+Tanagers which flashed past now and then. The long, graduated
+tail, the glossy black and white plumage and the conspicuous
+white iris mark this as one of the most striking of
+the Tanagers. The call-note was loud and harsh but the
+tones of those we saw in captivity and of one individual which
+we brought back alive were pleasant and modulated.</p>
+
+<p>Euphonias, Blue,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird143">143</a></span> Palm,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird144">144</a></span> and Silver-beak<span class="bird"><a href="#bird146">146</a></span> Tanagers
+and Red-underwing Doves<span class="bird"><a href="#bird10">10</a></span> were all nesting close to the
+settlement, while in a good-sized tree whose branches were
+brushing against the “hotel” windows were some hundred
+nests of Cassiques—the Red<span class="bird"><a href="#bird152">152</a></span> and the Yellow-backed<span class="bird"><a href="#bird151">151</a></span> in
+about equal numbers. When the two were seen fighting,
+the Red-backed seemed invariably to have the better of it.
+The natives here think the different colors mark the two
+sexes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"></a>[140]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure070" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure070.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 70. Mount Everard.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"></a>[141]</span></p>
+
+<p>Just before sunset the wharf at Mount Everard began to
+show signs of life. All day it had been deserted, a few small
+flat-bottomed boats, which we came later to know by the
+native name of ballyhoos, being moored idly against the dock;
+but now as the day drew to a close, groups of Indians and
+negroes gathered. We hung over the railing of our boat and
+watched them as lazily and as curiously as they watched us.
+Then the quiet air was rent with a medley of grunts and
+squeals and brays, the cries and shouts of human beings
+rising above all the other sounds, as a large party of men
+appeared escorting one scrawny cow, one lean but energetic
+hog, and finally one donkey, in whose being was concentrated
+all the stubbornness to which his race is heir. The problem was
+to load these beasts into one of the waiting ballyhoos. The
+ballyhoo was small, the current was moving it to and fro, and
+the cow and the donkey and the hog were not minded to go
+a-voyaging. As the negro always talks to his beast of burden
+as though it were his intellectual and social equal, so in this
+case the men approached the animals with all manner of
+reasonable argument, explaining where they were going and
+the importance of an early start and appealing to all that was
+noble and estimable, emphasizing everything with a choice
+selection of expletives combined with physical force. Finally
+after pushing and prodding the ill-fated cow they succeeded
+in half shoving, half throwing it into the boat. After many
+struggles the loudly indignant hog followed. When at last
+the donkey had been safely embarked we wondered if that
+little craft would ever reach its destination, with so heavy and
+protesting a load: when to our surprise the big black, who had
+been most vociferous and active in the recent mêlée, wiped
+his dripping forehead and stood calling “Possengers! Possengers!
+all aboad”! with as grand an air as though he
+were the chief steward on a great ocean liner. The “possengers”
+proved to be half a dozen buxom negresses, who
+with many a coy glance and feminine shriek of terror
+allowed the big black proprietor to help them from the dock
+to the boat, now rocking violently beneath the restless feet
+of the animals.</p>
+
+<p>Finally the ballyhoo moved slowly up stream, bound for a
+distant mine in the far interior, and another boat laden with
+bananas followed. An Indian paddled swiftly past in his
+wood-skin. Then darkness fell as suddenly as the dropping
+of a stage curtain; and we turned away from the river drama
+back to our life on board the “Mazaruni.”</p>
+
+<p>While awaiting the dinner bell we slung our hammocks
+along the deck, that through the meal we might know that
+they were swinging gently in the velvet night air, all ready for
+our comfortably tired selves.</p>
+
+<p>The night was clear and the blacks worked for several
+hours in the moonlight, unloading cargo. Not a mosquito
+came to mar the beauty of the night. Indeed the natives said
+they were never troublesome here at Mount Everard. In our
+hammocks as we rocked to sleep we thought drowsily of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a>[142]</span>
+dear Venezuelan wilderness of last year. We were so glad
+to be sleeping again in the open under the canopy of the
+southern sky. At last we felt that we were on the threshold
+of another wilderness.</p>
+
+<p>At four o’clock in the morning we awoke and heard far off
+through the jungle, the old, familiar howling of the red
+“baboons.” About five a rooster crowed on board and was
+answered by several on shore, and this seemed to awaken a
+black who began singing from his hammock in a logie, when
+a score of others took up the wild refrain and kept it up
+until daylight. With the sudden rush of light came the distant
+bubbling of Twa-twas, those little thick-billed pygmy
+Grosbeaks,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird130">130</a></span> and the cackling hubbub of the Cassique
+colony.</p>
+
+<p>Returning to Morawhanna we were made welcome at the
+home of Mr. Howie King the Government Agent, while
+waiting for our Hoorie launch. The government house is
+well built and belonged formerly to Sir Everard im Thurn. It
+is surrounded by a garden which must once have been magnificent
+and which Mr. King is attempting to restore, clearing
+away the undergrowth which has long overrun the beautiful
+shrubs and flowering plants. The house is built on the
+extreme southern end of a great island which extends in a
+northwest direction for about fifty miles far into Venezuela
+territory, Mora Passage lying between it and Morawhanna
+proper. Flowers were abundant, attracting many insects
+and these in turn birds of a score or more species. Kiskadees
+were nesting in low Bois Immortelle trees, Yellow-backed
+Cassiques or Bunyahs, in a great saman overhanging the
+house; while in the garden were Seed-eaters of several kinds,
+together with Blue and Palm Tanagers and the beautiful
+Moriche Orioles.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird158">158</a></span> Guiana House Wrens<span class="bird"><a href="#bird124">124</a></span> were nesting
+indoors on the ceiling rafters and under the deep eaves of the
+half veranda, half sitting-room was a beautiful pendent nest<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"></a>[143]</span>
+of the Feather-toed Swift<span class="bird"><a href="#bird71">71</a></span> composed entirely of feathery seed
+plumes. It was a straight symmetrical column about three
+inches in diameter and fourteen inches long, suspended from
+the palm thatch, not half a foot from a hanging, open-comb
+wasps’ nest. The upper ten inches of the nest was built and
+occupied just six months ago in September, and a brood of
+two young were reared. Now the birds had returned and were
+preparing to nest again, having already added four inches
+of pure white seed-plumes, easily distinguished from the older,
+browner, weathered portion. They came to the nest every
+hour with a beakful of plumes and pressed them into position
+while fluttering in mid air, evidently utilizing their saliva as a
+cementing substance. In the interims between their visits,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"></a>[144]</span>
+Hummingbirds,—sometimes two at once—came and filched
+nesting material from the lower end, fraying it out very
+appreciably. Their nests were attached to the lesser stems of
+a dense clump of bamboo in the garden.</p>
+
+<p>This Swift was common on all the Guiana rivers, hawking
+with Swallows over the water. Seen on the wing it
+appears glossy black with a white throat and collar.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp78" id="figure071" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure071.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 71. Sir Everard im Thurn’s House at Morawhanna.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>It was the height of the season of courtship of the Palm
+Tanagers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird144">144</a></span> and they were noisy and bold. A caged female
+proved to be a source of great attraction and several
+wild ones kept coming to the cage. We trapped two
+and they made themselves at home within a few minutes.
+There was considerable variation, some being gray, almost
+a bluish gray, while in others the green was strongly
+dominant.</p>
+
+<p>The chickens and ducks were taken by two kinds of opossums,
+one, large, ill-smelling and living in the bamboos, and
+the other very small and rat-like. Game was abundant here
+and tapirs, Tinamous and Guans were shot for food. The
+mudflats were inhabited by a host of crabs; most of them
+exactly like our little fiddlers, while others were larger and
+blue or yellow in color.</p>
+
+<p>Sand-flies and mosquitoes were present in small numbers,
+the latter troublesome enough for hammock nets at night, but
+the worst pest hereabouts was the bête-rouge which abounded
+in the grass both at Mount Everard and here. Nowhere
+else did we suffer so much from the fiendish little beasts.
+Like sea-sickness or an earthquake, bête-rouge is a great
+leveller of mankind, like a common disaster doing more to
+make men “free and equal” than all the constitutions and
+doctrines ever signed. In a bête-rouge infested region the
+conversation is sooner or later sure to turn upon the subject
+of these little red mites. Everyone you meet has his or
+her particular pet remedy to prescribe. The subject under<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"></a>[145]</span>
+discussion may be the coolie immigration laws, or the proper
+scientific name for some species of orchid or who is to be
+the next Governor—but some sharp-eyed fellow sufferer is
+certain to detect the guilty look upon one’s face which translated
+into words would be “My ankles are devoured by bête-rouge!”
+and then the assembled company begins to discuss
+the topic of really vital interest.</p>
+
+<p>We tried <i>all</i> the remedies—Scrubb’s ammonia, dry soap,
+wet salt, wet soda, alcohol, resinol ointment, chloroform
+camphor,—to little purpose beyond very temporary relief.
+Finally we reached the stage when good manners were thrown
+to the winds and every victim scratched at will, despite the
+fact that it eventually aggravated the trouble. There was
+developed an individuality in the method so that at long
+distances we were able to recognize one another by the
+characteristic motions of discomfort!</p>
+
+<p>Then came the discovery of crab-oil, which is an ounce of
+prevention and not a cure. Rubbed on <i>before</i> going out, no
+sane bête-rouge will attack you. Crab-oil is made of the nut
+of the crab-wood tree and it is greasy and sticky and has a
+disagreeable, rancid odor, which is very lasting. One of us
+hinted that it was a question whether the remedy were not
+worse than the disease. She even objected to having bottles
+of crab-oil rolled for safety in packing, in her very limited
+supply of clothing. She was promptly pronounced “finnicky”
+by her “better half” who was righteously indignant
+and surprised at discovering so unexpected a quality in her.
+But then he, more than anyone else, was afflicted with bête-rouge;
+and so could not be expected to see anything at all
+objectionable in the odor of the crab-oil to which he owed so
+much relief. It does unquestionably give relief. Well protected
+with crab-oil one can bid defiance to the annoying little
+pests, which an old gentleman whom we chanced to meet in
+our travels persistently and seriously called “<i>bête noir</i>,”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"></a>[146]</span>
+under the delusion that that was their proper and very
+appropriate name.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. King’s garden was a constant source of interest because
+of the flowers, the insects and the birds. In the top
+of a dead shrub a good-sized yellow flowered orchid had
+been tied. This, during the last rainy season, had evidently
+dropped seeds, some of which had clung to the branches
+beneath and then sprouted. When we saw them, there
+were twenty or more of these diminutive orchids scattered
+over the shrub, each with four tiny clinging rootlets, a three-parted
+leaflet and in the centre one blossom as big as the
+entire plant, the whole not larger than a shilling.</p>
+
+<p>Two large species of lizards lived in the garden, the common
+iguana which climbed the trees and fed on leaves and buds,
+and another, called locally Salapenta (<i>Teius nigro punctatus</i>),
+which included carrion, chicks and even fish in its bill of fare.
+They would now and then dive into a small pond and appear
+with a small fish in their jaws.</p>
+
+<p>The last evening of our stay at Mr. King’s we spent sitting
+on the wharf looking out over Mora Passage. The ripples
+died from the wake of the steamer as she vanished around
+a bend on her way back to Georgetown. A cool refreshing
+breeze blew toward us as the sun’s light faded and a dense
+flock of more than a hundred Amazon Parrots flew overhead.
+Our shadows changed from sharp black outlines thrown on
+the water before us to faint gray shapes, moon-cast on the
+crab-wood boards behind.</p>
+
+<p>The tangle of palms and liana-draped trees across the
+Passage became more indistinct and the brilliant moonlight
+lit up the swirling brown current. An Indian boy
+passed silently in a narrow curiara. We were his friends—we
+had given him sixpence and he was off to the little store
+amid the low thatched huts a few hundred yards down the
+river, which marked Morawhanna. We knew him only as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"></a>[147]</span>
+Frederick, for no white person would ever be told his real
+name—that of some animal or bird—as such disclosure
+is against all Indian custom, from the fear of thereby giving
+others evil power over them. He gave us a quick, shy,
+half smile, and then all light died from his Mongolian features
+and he peered sternly into the darkness ahead. Well had he
+need of fear and caution. We may be sure his purchases
+were made stealthily and his quick return was certain, for
+death watched for him in a hundred places.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure072" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure072.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 72. Palm Tanager.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The day before, he had testified against three of his tribe—the
+Caribs—for the murder of his father, and now the stern
+hand of English justice had closed and the chief murderer
+was eating his heart out somewhere in a cell beyond the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"></a>[148]</span>
+bend of the river. No more could Frederick mingle with his
+tribe, and on his knees and in tears he had begged Mr. King
+to keep him and shelter him on the Government Island.
+The vendetta would follow him through life and it was
+almost certain he would be killed sooner or later.</p>
+
+<p>The calm of the evening was perfect, undisturbed by all
+this hidden tragedy. When the moon was well clear of
+the trees, some great frog hidden in the swamp began his
+rhythmical <i>kronk! kronk! kronk!</i> and tiny bats dashed about,
+splashing the surface of the water as they drank or snatched
+floating insects.</p>
+
+<p>The <i>yap! yap!</i> of a passing but invisible Skimmer came
+faintly, and the throbbing roll of a second kind of frog rumbled
+out of the dusk across the river. The moonlight became
+ever stronger and now a Kiskadee called sleepily from his
+great untidy nest in the distant village. A sharp whip-lash
+of sound came to our ears and we knew that a
+Parauque<span class="bird"><a href="#bird70">70</a></span> had awakened from his diurnal slumber. An
+answering cry sounded near at hand in the garden and we
+could distinguish the two connected tones. The splash of
+paddles announced the return of the rest of our party as an
+Indian woman began a droning song from the fire before
+her hut a few yards away.</p>
+
+<p>Impatient as we were to get into the real “bush,” the
+days at Morawhanna were delightful. From Mr. King we
+learned a great deal about England’s government of this
+out-of-the-world colony. We were especially interested in
+the protection of the indentured coolie. In the first place
+the coolie labor market is never allowed to become over-crowded.
+Each employer sends in an order for the exact
+number of workmen which he requires, so that the supply
+brought over is never greater than the demand. The coolie
+gets free passage from India to South America, and is
+guaranteed work at a minimum wage of a shilling a day,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"></a>[149]</span>
+including his food. On his arrival the immigration agent
+assigns him to a certain estate, where his term of indenture
+is five years, his wage being increased as his capacity for work
+becomes greater. During his term of service he can leave
+the estate only by permission, and he must never be found
+at large without his pass book.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of five years the coolie is free to work where he
+pleases, or to take up a grant of land of his own. After five
+years more of residence he may return to India free of charge
+if he so wishes. As the coolie is very thrifty and can live
+on threepence a day, his menu being rice and water, at the
+expiration of his ten years, in addition to having earned his
+living and supported his family, he has often saved up as
+much as two thousand dollars.</p>
+
+<p>Throughout his term of indenture the English government
+looks after him. He always has good medical care free, and
+the law watches over him with scrupulous vigilance, seeing
+that he is justly treated by his employer, and that no advantage
+is taken of his ignorance and inexperience. When the
+coolie leaves India he, of course, loses caste, but as they all fall
+proportionately, each moving down one in the social scale,
+a proper balance is preserved. The coolie returning to India,
+however, finds himself a disgraced outcast. To regain his
+position in society he must pay large sums of money to the
+priests; and so it is that he returns to his native land only
+to be robbed of his hard-earned savings, often returning to
+South America as a re-indentured man, to start life again.
+In order to discourage his return to India, the government
+offers him the money equivalent to his return passage. Many
+of the coolies take advantage of this and make South America
+their permanent home, taking up grants of their own and
+living in greater peace and prosperity than would ever have
+been possible for them in India.</p>
+
+<p>The population of Morawhanna is composed of coolies,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"></a>[150]</span>
+Indians and blacks, who look to the magistrate as a sort of
+all powerful father to whom they bring troubles of every
+conceivable kind.</p>
+
+<p>As we were sitting at breakfast one day an aged coolie man
+was seen hanging around the door. He must see Mr. King
+on a most important matter, which proved to be a delicate
+one indeed. His wife had fallen in love with another man and
+what was he to do? Such troubles are very common among
+the coolies. Instead of avenging himself upon the man who
+dared to alienate his wife’s affections, the coolie invariably
+murders his wife, the favorite method being to chop her up
+“particularly small.”</p>
+
+<p>In this instance the wife was young and good looking, and
+her grievance was that her husband expected her to assume
+the entire support of him and his family, and she declared
+she would rather die than go back to him. The only solution
+of the problem was to hurry the woman off on the afternoon
+boat to Georgetown, in order to save her from murder
+and her husband from execution.</p>
+
+<p>They are all very fond of bringing their wrongs into court.
+An irate Indian woman will appear, bringing a charge against
+the dressmaker who has made her wedding dress too short.
+Dress of any description is the most recent of acquisitions
+with the Indian woman, but having acquired it she intends
+that her wedding gown shall fulfill all the requirements of
+Dame Fashion, so far as she knows them.</p>
+
+<p>The gown in question has been brought into court as
+incontrovertible evidence. Should she not put it on and
+<i>prove</i> to the magistrate, who cries in despair that he knows
+nothing of the proper length of wedding gowns and calls
+in another dressmaker for expert opinion. The two dressmakers
+stand together and the case is dismissed. This is
+quoted to show the infinite patience with which the magistrate
+treats each case, however trivial.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"></a>[151]</span></p>
+
+<p>The commissioner of health brings a charge against a coolie
+man, on the ground that he has allowed the drains near his
+hut to become clogged and so endangered the Public Health.
+Mr. King reads the indictment in impressive, magisterial
+tones, accusing the offender of having permitted his drains
+to become foul. Foul is evidently the one word which conveys
+any meaning to the coolie, who exclaims in a tone of
+relief that he has never kept any “fowls”! In British
+Guiana the arm of the law must have a sense of humor as well
+as of justice!</p>
+
+<p>We often wondered what was going on behind the impassive
+face of little Frederick. Did he live in constant terror
+or did he sometimes forget it all in the light-hearted pleasure
+of a child? The man convicted of his father’s murder was a
+peaiman—or medicine man, who is held in great awe and
+reverence by his tribe. So Frederick’s betrayal was doubly
+criminal in the eyes of the superstitious Indians.</p>
+
+<p>Frederick had been brought down to Morawhanna at
+Christmas—a little naked savage knowing not a word of
+English. When at a loss for a word he always fell back
+upon the civil “Sir” which Mr. King had taught him. As
+white women were rare in Morawhanna he had never learned
+the feminine of “Sir.” It was very amusing to see him serving
+at table, going all around asking with great dignity,
+“What will you have, Suh?” regardless of the sex of the guest.
+Mr. King had taught him to knock before entering a room.
+He was childishly delighted with the new accomplishment
+and knocked on both entering and leaving the room. We
+discovered that he had spent our sixpence on a belt which
+it seems was the desire of his heart—already so sophisticated!</p>
+
+<p>The dazed stoicism of the convicted Indian was infinitely
+pathetic to us. This terrible thing called the <i>Law</i> is so
+incomprehensible to him. He cannot understand it. When<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"></a>[152]</span>
+a convicted comrade is taken down to Georgetown to execution,
+his friends and family realize only that he has gone
+away in a boat to some mysterious place from which he never
+returns. As far as the moral effect of an execution is concerned,
+there is none.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="figure073" style="max-width: 25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure073.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 73. Frederick, the Carib Indian Boy.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Into the absolutely natural life of the Indian, with the
+simple and perfectly comprehended tribal laws, has come so
+much that is confusing;—the new religion, the relations of
+the laborer to the employer, the wearing of clothes and the
+strange and powerful law. The Indian is a creature of
+the present moment, instantly acting upon every desire,
+working when he wishes to work, and quietly dropping<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"></a>[153]</span>
+all work and departing when he so desires. What can
+he—the creature of Nature—know of all this puzzling
+civilization?</p>
+
+<p class="tb">At noon on March 6th we embarked on the three days’
+tent-boat journey from Morawhanna to Hoorie Mine. A
+thirty-foot launch was the motor power and alongside this
+the big tent-boat was lashed, while several Indians hitched
+their wood-skins behind as boys hitch sleds to a passing
+sleigh.</p>
+
+<p>The baggage was stored fore and aft and, perched on a pile
+in the bow, we prepared for our first real day of observation
+along the rivers of the Northwest. We retraced our way
+northward through Mora Passage, frightening as we went,
+a flock of seven Scarlet Ibises.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird27">27</a></span> They kept close together
+and were evidently a single family, as two were in fully
+adult plumage, while the others were only three quarters
+grown, and feathered wholly in brown and white.</p>
+
+<p>About three o’clock in the afternoon we reached the Waini
+River, but instead of turning toward the mouth and the
+open ocean which we could see to the northwest, we steered
+eastward up stream. Although the outlet of several large
+rivers, the Waini, in its lower reaches, is little more than a
+great salt water tidal inlet, or caño.</p>
+
+<p>At Mora Passage the Waini is about two miles wide and
+through the choppy waters of the falling tide we steered
+straight across to the north shore. Between the waters of
+this river and the ocean extends a long narrow strip of marshy
+mangrove, for at least forty miles. Both the White and the
+Red Mangrove are found here, the latter predominating, and
+this is the breeding sanctuary of the hosts of birds which haunt
+the mud-flats at low tide and fill the trees with a gorgeous
+display of color when the feeding grounds are covered at
+high tide.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"></a>[154]</span></p>
+
+<p>For the next three hours we were enchanted by a constantly
+changing panorama of bird life, which in extent and variety
+can seldom be equalled elsewhere.</p>
+
+<p>While crossing the Waini several Swallow-tailed Kites<span class="bird"><a href="#bird58">58</a></span>
+soared screaming overhead, occasionally swooping past for a
+nearer look at us. As we skirted the great mangrove forest,
+birds flew up ahead, few at first but in constantly increasing
+numbers, until several hundred were in sight at once. They
+showed little fear and were apparently content to vibrate
+slowly along between launch and shore, accompanying us for
+fifteen or twenty miles.</p>
+
+<p>By far the greater number were Little Blue Herons,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird34">34</a></span> the
+pure white immature and the slaty blue adults being equally
+numerous. The latter were very inconspicuous among the
+foliage, while the former stood out like marble statues against
+green velvet. The coloring showed great asymmetrical variation,
+and one young bird with a single blue feather in the
+right wing was so tame that it kept almost abreast of our
+flotilla. The irregularity of moult resulted in most remarkable
+patterns, as in several birds, each of which had one white
+and one bluish wing.</p>
+
+<p>Half a dozen Yellow-crowned Night Herons<span class="bird"><a href="#bird36">36</a></span> were seen
+and twenty or thirty of the ill-named Louisianas.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird35">35</a></span> A few
+Great-billed Terns<span class="bird"><a href="#bird14">14</a></span> accompanied the herons and later in the
+afternoon we began flushing Snowy Egrets<span class="bird"><a href="#bird33">33</a></span> in ever increasing
+numbers. No American Egrets were seen. All along the
+coast were small flocks of Scarlet Ibises,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird27">27</a></span> from three to
+thirty in number, and in an hour we had driven together no
+less than four hundred. The majority were full plumaged
+birds clad in burning vermilion, but many were young in
+moult. We secured a young female in an interesting condition
+of moult. In the stomach were found the two chelæ
+or claws of a small crustacean, each about one-third of an
+inch in length. The wings were wholly of the immature<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"></a>[155]</span>
+brown, except for one tiny under-edge covert in the right
+wing. The back, lower breast and under tail-coverts were
+fairly scarlet and active moult was in progress on the head
+and neck.</p>
+
+<p>We know that in captivity these birds fade out, usually in
+a single moult, from the most vivid scarlet to a pale salmon
+hue, but as to the cause we are still in the dark. The same
+is true of American Flamingos and Spoonbills. During this
+trip we made certain of a fact which helps slightly to clear
+this problem—this being that Scarlet Ibises fade as quickly
+and completely when in captivity in their native country as in
+the north. This is confirmed by many birds kept formerly
+in Georgetown and also on the Island of Marajo at the mouth
+of the Amazon.</p>
+
+<p>We have noticed an interesting fact in regard to this fading
+out of birds in captivity. Whether the salmon tints appear
+in the first moult, or more gradually in several, the lesser
+wing-coverts and the upper and under tail-coverts are the
+last to loose the scarlet color, retaining it sometimes for five
+or six years. These feathers in the nearly related but pale
+Roseate Spoonbill are those which are normally scarlet, and
+this resemblance may be more than a coincidence.</p>
+
+<p>About four o’clock we were surprised to see a large black
+and white bird with long gray beak and red legs fly up from
+a mud-flat ahead and swing outward and around us. The
+glasses showed a Maguari Stork<span class="bird"><a href="#bird29">29</a></span> in full breeding color; even
+the red caruncles around the eye and the long, filmy neck
+feathers being visible. We had never expected to see the
+bird away from the pampas of the interior and the sight of
+the splendid Stork was most exciting. It is almost as large
+as the Jabiru, white with black wings, scapulars and tail and
+is one of the most picturesque of the larger waders.</p>
+
+<p>We have had a pair of these birds alive for some time and
+have observed a curious thing about the tail. The real tail-feathers<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"></a>[156]</span>
+are forked, swallow-like, while the intervening space
+is filled up with the long, stiff under tail-coverts. In flight
+the whole are spread, making a parti-colored fan of some
+eighteen feathers instead of the usual six pairs. These under
+tail-coverts are a full inch longer than the regular tail feathers
+and seem to be usurping their function.</p>
+
+<p>Two old friends of northern waters appeared in small
+numbers, Ospreys<span class="bird"><a href="#bird59">59</a></span> circling about high in the air with now
+and then a meteor-like dive, while Spotted Sandpipers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird22">22</a></span>
+looped from one headland to another ahead of us.</p>
+
+<p>At half-past four in the afternoon we had our first sight of
+the great flocks of birds which seem characteristic of this
+season. Quite high in air, clear of the tops of the tallest
+trees we saw a black cloud of birds approaching. We soon
+made them out to be Greater Anis,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird79">79</a></span> or as the natives called
+them “Big Witch” or “Jumbie Birds.” When first seen
+they were in a dense, compact mass headed straight toward us.</p>
+
+<p>Their flight was uniform, each bird giving three to six
+flaps and then sailing ahead for several seconds. Hundreds
+doing this at once made the sight a most striking one, while
+it was enhanced by their long, wedge-shaped tails, high arched
+beaks, bright yellow eyes, and the iridescence of their dark
+plumage as the slanting rays of the sun struck them. We
+counted up to a thousand in the van and then gave up—there
+were at the very least four thousand birds in the flock.</p>
+
+<p>The approach of the puffing launch and our great escort
+of Ibises and Herons disconcerted them and the entire company
+broke up, most of them descending, turning on their
+course and fleeing ahead of us for several miles. Their
+mode of flight changed completely, the birds flying close to
+the water, barely skimming its surface and swinging up every
+few yards to alight on a low branch.</p>
+
+<p>A piece of wood thrown among a mass of them would cause
+great dismay, and they dashed down into the nearest foliage<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"></a>[157]</span>
+as if a Hawk had appeared. Little by little they drifted past,
+flying rapidly near shore, and continuing in the direction which
+they had originally chosen. A few of the birds were moulting,
+but by far the greater number were in perfect plumage.</p>
+
+<p>The flock had the appearance of being on some sort of
+migration rather than assembling at a nightly roost. About
+Georgetown and the settlements and clearings in general,
+this Greater Ani was much rarer then the small Smooth-billed
+species,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird80">80</a></span> twenty of the latter being seen to one of
+the former. These aberrant Cuckoos are most interesting
+birds and several females are said to combine, building a
+single hollow nest of sticks in which the eggs are hatched.</p>
+
+<p>Hardly had the last Ani passed out of sight when a second
+cloud of birds appeared far ahead, and before we had approached
+near enough to identify them a shrill chorus came
+to our ears; a horde of Blue-headed Parrots<span class="bird"><a href="#bird65">65</a></span> were on their
+way up the coast. They behaved in much the same way
+as the Anis, but were more numerous: an estimate far below
+the truth gave eight thousand. Closely massed though most
+of them were, yet the eternal two and two formation of the
+tribe of Parrots was never lost, and even when the vanguard,
+terrified by our puffing launch, wheeled and dashed back
+through the ranks behind, each Parrot flew always close to
+its mate. Once later on, when only a few scores were left
+near us, we saw several perched in a bare tree close to a
+Hawk, like a Sparrow Hawk in size, but neither species paid
+any attention to the other’s presence.</p>
+
+<p>The Parrots screamed unceasingly and near the main body
+the noise was terrific—a shrill deafening roar, as from a
+dozen factory whistles. Until long after dark they flew
+back and forth around us, sometimes attempting to alight
+in a tree and falling from branch to branch almost to the
+water, before securing a foot or beak-hold. For several
+hours perfect pandemonium reigned around us.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"></a>[158]</span></p>
+
+<p>Whether these two phenomena of flocking birds indicated
+merely a nightly roosting habit or an actual, more or less
+local migration, they were of the greatest interest, and
+spectacular in the extreme. Our opinion inclines decidedly
+toward the latter theory, as they both differed greatly from
+the regular roosting flights which we observed elsewhere.</p>
+
+<p>Long after dark, about nine o’clock, in the faint light
+of the cloud-dimmed moon, we caught glimpses of occasional
+ghostly forms flitting silently past, and when we flashed our
+powerful electric light upon them, the feathered ghosts would
+emit frightened squawks; revealed as Snowy Egrets or young
+Blue Herons. Here and there among the mangroves, large
+lightning bugs flashed. At last we rolled up in our blankets
+and slept on the thwarts, to dream of the unnumbered legions
+of Anis and Parrots far off behind us in the blackness of the
+mangrove jungle.</p>
+
+<p>In a soft steady rain we steamed all next morning up the
+Waini, seeing few signs of life, except three Toucans which
+flew across at Barrimani Police Station. At noon we reached
+Farnum’s at the junction of the Waini and Barama rivers.
+Mr. and Mrs. Farnum live in a small house perched on the
+very summit of a symmetrically rounded hill—the first
+elevation we had seen in this flat region. There is a tiny
+store at the foot of the hill, and a saw-mill, and in the
+grass of the clearing, bête-rouge lie in patient wait for the
+passer-by. Mrs. Farnum told us that “Hummingbirds”
+flew into the peaked roof of the house almost every day and
+died. The natives call by this name all the species of Honey
+Creepers, and a Yellow-winged<span class="bird"><a href="#bird136">136</a></span> male was picked up from
+the floor during our visit.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"></a>[159]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure074" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure074.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 74. Our Tent-boat on the Barama River.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a>[160]</span></p>
+
+<p>We found later that this was such a common occurrence
+that in almost all the houses there were instruments for
+getting rid of the bewildered, fluttering birds. The more
+cruel used only a long stick with which the birds were struck
+down, but the more humanely inclined had nets on the end
+of long poles. As many as seven Honey Creepers are occasionally
+entrapped at one time. They do not seem to know
+how to fly toward light and liberty after getting up among
+the dark rafters.</p>
+
+<p>The fauna of this exceedingly marshy region was different
+from that higher up. Agoutis and pacas are abundant but
+capybaras do not come this side of Barramanni Police Station.
+Deer and peccaries are very rare. Jaguars are unknown
+but ocelots are occasionally found, a young one having been
+killed under the house at Christmas. It lived in a burrow
+and took a chicken each night until it was killed.</p>
+
+<p>Many fish were seen playing about the tent-boat as it
+was tied to the wharf, and among others were scores of small
+pipe-fish. Mr. Crandall caught a small round sun-fish-like
+form, brilliantly colored and with a most wicked looking
+set of triangular teeth. As he was about to take the fish
+off the hook it deliberately twisted itself in the direction of
+his hand and bit his finger, taking a piece out with one snip
+of its four razor-like incisors. This was our introduction
+to the famous Perai or Carib Fish (<i>Serrasalmo scapularis</i>)
+which seems to fear nothing, man, crocodile or fish, and a
+school of which can disable any creature in a very short time.</p>
+
+<p>At this point we left the Waini and turned off into the
+Barama. We had followed the Waini day and night for
+about sixty miles, until, from a stream of two miles or more
+in width, it had narrowed to little more then one hundred
+yards.</p>
+
+<p>We left Farnum’s at three in the afternoon and steamed
+slowly up the Barama for twelve hours, tying up to the bank
+from three to seven in the early morning. We slept but
+little, for the strange wonderland which opened up before us.
+At nine o’clock the full moon rose and the beauty of the
+wilderness became indescribable. In the north—along the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"></a>[161]</span>
+rivers of the Canadian forest—the spruces and firs are
+clean-trunked, tapering to tall, isolated, symmetrical summits.
+Here the very opposite conditions exist; solid massive
+walls of black foliage, with almost never a glimpse of trunk
+and bark. Most characteristic are the long, slender bush-ropes
+or lianas. In the forest they are thick, gnarled and
+knotted; there we get the vivid feeling of serpentine struggles
+in the terribly slow but none the less remorseless striving for
+light and air, but along the rivers the lianas are pendent
+threads or cables—straight as plummets and often a hundred
+feet in length. These give a decorative aspect to the scene
+unlike any other type of forest—temperate or northern.</p>
+
+<p>In the moonlight the appearance of the walls of foliage
+is like painted scenery. Their blackness and impenetrability
+give a feeling of flatness and the summit outlines are crudely
+regular. The dominant sound at night along the Barama
+was a sweet tinkling as of tiny bells, all in unison and harmony,
+but with a range of at least four half-tones. The
+tree-toads clinging here and there to leaves and flowers
+throughout the jungle fill this whole region with the melody
+of their chimes; striking the minutes as if with a thousand
+tiny anvils, and only too often leading some enemy to their
+hiding places.</p>
+
+<p>We woke at early dusk and climbing out upon the bow
+of the tent-boat watched the coming of the tropical day.
+The medley of fairy bells was still bravely ringing, but as the
+dawn approached, the little nocturnal musicians ceased
+tolling and the chorus died out with a few faint, final tinkles.
+Six o’clock, and the sunshine upon the tree-tops brought a
+burst of sound from the Woodhewers, a succession of twelve
+to twenty loud, ringing tones in a rapidly descending scale—Canyon
+Wren-like and taken up continuously from far and
+near. The very tang and crispness of the early dawn
+seemed to inspire the quality of their notes.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"></a>[162]</span></p>
+
+<p>As soon as it was light, Swallows were seen in numbers,
+small, dark steel-blue in color with a striking band of white
+across the breast. These beautiful Banded Swallows<span class="bird"><a href="#bird118">118</a></span>
+kept at first to two levels in the air; close to the water, fairly
+skimming its surface, and high up above the tallest trees—marking
+I suppose the early morning distribution of gnats
+and other insects. Most delicate and fairy-like they appeared
+when perched on some great orchid-hung dead branch protruding
+from the water.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure075" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure075.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 75. Indian Boys in Dug-out.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>We can find no adjectives to express the beauty and calm
+of the cool, early morning on these tropical rivers. Myriads—untold
+myriads—of leaves and branches surround us like
+the lofty walls of a canyon. We have used the words wall in
+this connection many times and no other word seems to be so
+suitable. All sense of flatness is lost in the light of the dawn;
+and instead we see these living walls now as infinitely softened;
+but still the eye cannot penetrate the intricate tangle. Not a
+breath of air stirs the smallest leaf. It is like the fairy river<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"></a>[163]</span>
+of an enchanted country—all Nature quiet and resting—with
+only the brown current ever slipping silently past, here
+and there foam-flecked or bearing some tiny aquatic plant
+with its rosette of downy leaves.</p>
+
+<p>Then,—the lush tropical nature rushing ever to extremes—comes
+a deluge of virile life upon the scene. A great fish
+leaps far upward, shattering the surface, pursued by a fierce,
+brown-coated otter, almost as large as a man. A half dozen
+green Parrots throb screaming past in pairs; two big Red-breasted
+King-fishers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird67">67</a></span> spring from their perch and come
+leaping toward us through the air, suddenly wheeling up
+almost in a somersault and down like two meteors into the
+water.</p>
+
+<p>We leave our bushy moorings at last and keep on up the
+river with the tide, passing the English mission of Father
+Carey-Elwis, which, like Farnum’s, is built on a hill, isolated
+amid the great expanse of flat marshy jungle. A dozen
+little naked Indian lads shriek in sheer excitement and rush
+down to the water’s edge to watch us pass, peering fearfully
+out from behind trees like little gnomes.</p>
+
+<p>From here on butterflies became very abundant; many
+large Yellows and Oranges and Morphos of two kinds, one
+altogether iridescent blue, the other blue and black. As
+the little vocal messages of the tree-frogs are carried far and
+wide through the jungle at night, so in the sunshine the
+morphos, like heliographs of azure, flash silently from bend
+to bend of the river. Conspicuous among the great Mora
+and Purple-heart trees were the white-barked Silk Cottons.
+Large yellow tubular blossoms and masses of purple pea
+blooms tint the trees here and there.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians along the river were catching two kinds of
+fish; one a silvery mullet about six inches long called Bashew,
+and a catfish of the same size. The latter was most formidable
+in appearance but actually harmless. Four slender<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"></a>[164]</span>
+barbels of medium size depended from the lower jaw, while
+two pigmented ones extended forward from the upper jaw
+and were so long that when pressed back they reached to
+the tail.</p>
+
+<p>Rain fell irregularly during the day, but so gently and so
+softly that we hardly knew when it began and when it ended.
+It never chilled but rather refreshed. About noon a third
+migrational flocking of birds was noticed; seventy-two large
+South American Black Hawks<span class="bird"><a href="#bird55">55</a></span> circling slowly around,
+setting their wings after a while and sailing off to the west
+as one bird.</p>
+
+<p>The action and reaction among the vegetation was often as
+striking as among more active organisms. Where parasitic
+aërial roots had descended seventy or eighty feet and touched
+the water near shore, vines had somehow managed to reach
+out and throw a tendril about the roots, take hold and climb
+circle upon circle to the top. The palm trees alone of all the
+forest growth seemed universally free from parasitic plants
+and climbing vines.</p>
+
+<p>Above the mission, coincident with the increase of butterflies
+and the appearance of occasional sand-banks, palm
+trees disappeared without apparent reason. The river narrowed
+as we ascended until it was only fifty yards across and
+the bends increased in angle and number. Now and then
+we passed a cut-off when the stream had cut through one of
+its own bends and made a new bed for itself.</p>
+
+<p>A small opening in the wall of verdure was hailed as Hoorie
+Creek and, dropping behind the launch, we were towed a
+mile or more up its tortuous length, now and then running
+aground or rather “atree,” as it was only thirty feet wide and
+as sinuous as a serpent. We tied fast to a big overhanging
+tree which marked the end of our journey by water and, all
+excitement, leaped ashore.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"></a>[165]</span></p>
+
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.<br>
+<span class="smaller">A GOLD MINE IN THE WILDERNESS.</span></h3>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>We loaded our tin canisters, clothing bags, guns and
+cameras on a cart which was waiting and set out along
+the bush trail, three and a half miles to the gold mine. The
+trail led through a great swampy forest with a clear brook
+occasionally crossing it, and for the sake of the wagon which
+had to transport all supplies, it was corduroyed in the worst
+places with small saplings or quartered trunks. We had all
+donned cheap tennis shoes which proved on this and all later
+occasions to be perfect footwear for the tropics. The rubber
+soles allow one to obtain sure footing in slippery places and a
+wetting matters nothing. If one walks far enough the shoes
+dry on one’s feet, or at camp a new pair may be slipped on in
+a moment and next day the old ones are none the worse for
+the soaking. Here snake-proof and water-proof shoes are as
+useless as they are uncomfortable.</p>
+
+<p>It was amusing to see how quickly the regard for mud and
+water left even those of our party who were taking their first
+dip into the real “bush.” For the first few yards all picked
+their way carefully. There was even a pair of storm rubbers
+leaving its checkered print on the forest mould! Then some
+one stepped on the loose end of a corduroy sapling which
+rose in air and fell with a sharp spat. Everyone dodged the
+shower of mud and straightway went over ankles in water.
+The cool fluid trickled between our toes and we all laughed
+with relief. The rubbers found an early grave in the mud-hole
+and we all strode happily along, wishing we had a hundred
+eyes, to see all that was going on around and above us.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"></a>[166]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure076" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure076.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 76. Crossing a Stream on the Hoorie Jungle Road.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"></a>[167]</span></p>
+
+<p>A perfect medley of calls and cries came from the tree-tops
+high overhead as we tramped along. In places the trees
+were magnificent, looking like a maze of columns in some
+great cathedral, roofed over with a lofty dome of foliage.
+On this first walk the final impression was of a host of
+strange sights and sounds, a few of which we were able
+to disentangle on succeeding days. We had poured over
+Waterton, Schomburgk and Bates but we realized anew the
+utter futility of trying to reconstruct with pen and ink the
+grandeur and beauty, and forever and always the mystery,
+of a tropical forest.</p>
+
+<p>Then from the heart of the wilderness we came suddenly
+upon man’s handiwork; the tiny, twenty acre clearing of
+the gold mine. On the outskirts of the forest were the frail,
+frond-roofed shelters which marked the homes of the Indians
+and the rough mud and thatch huts of the black laborers. A
+dam was thrown across the narrow valley and on the rim of
+the jungle lake thus made, was the powerful electric engine.
+This great thing of vibrating wheels and pistons seemed
+strangely out of place in the wilderness. As we watched, it
+seemed to take on a semblance of dull life. Stolid-faced,
+naked Indians fed it vast quantities of cord wood, and in return
+it sucked up a great pipeful of water from the lake. The
+pipe lay quietly on trestles, winding up and around a low
+hill out of sight, giving no hint of the terrific rush of water
+within.</p>
+
+<p>Following the pipe line we turn a sudden corner on the
+hill-top and the heart of the clearing lies at our feet. At the
+end of the pipe, far below, a man stands, barely able to guide
+and shift the mighty spout of water which gushes forth.
+Half the hill has been torn away by the irresistible stream,
+which shoots upward in a majestic column and dashes with
+a roar against the cliff of clay and rubble. The ever-widening
+gorge which the water has eaten into the hill glows in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a>[168]</span>
+the sunlight with bright-colored strata. On each side the
+red clay is dominant, while between runs the strip of pale
+gray which holds the precious nuggets.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp53" id="figure077" style="max-width: 26.5625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure077.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 77. The Wilderness Trail.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>It is an ochreous clay carrying free gold. The rock is
+in place and perfectly decomposed to a depth of seventy-five
+or one hundred feet. This decomposition is the result of
+the constant infiltration of warm rains carrying carbonic<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"></a>[169]</span>
+acid and humous acids from the rapidly decaying tropical
+vegetation. Through the clay are scattered nodules of impure
+limonite.</p>
+
+<p>In a tumbling, falling mass the muddy water washes back
+upon its path, confined in a trough under the pipe, and as it
+goes it gives up its yellow burden. As the grains and nuggets
+drop to the bottom they touch the mercury and behold! to
+the eye they are no longer gold but silver!</p>
+
+<p>As we had been impressed by the grandeur of the forest,
+so we now began to see the romance of the wonderful gold
+deep hidden beneath the centuries of jungle growth. Gold,
+which we had known only in form of coin or ring, now
+assumed a new beauty and meaning. Here, amid the great
+trees, the beautiful birds and insects, the Indians as yet
+unspoiled by civilization, one could thoroughly enjoy such
+“money-making.” One hears of gold mines all one’s life,
+but until one actually sees the metal taken from its resting
+place where it has laid since the earth was young, the word
+means but little.</p>
+
+<p>Beyond the golden gorge with the roaring “little giant”
+ever filling it with spray, was a second hill topped with the
+bungalow which we were to call home. Beyond this the
+jungle began again.</p>
+
+<p>After a delicious shower-bath we slung our hammocks on
+the veranda and sat on the hillside in the moonlight for an
+hour or more, watching the night shift at work, one or two
+men guiding the stream beneath flickering arc-lights, others
+puddling the down rushing torrent. Just beneath us in the
+dark shadow of a bush lay the coolie night watchman, with
+the inscrutable face of his race, keeping watch over the long,
+snaky flume, at the bottom of which the quicksilver was
+ever engulfing the precious metal.</p>
+
+<p>Later we slept the dreamless hammock sleep of the tropics,
+lulled by the dull droning roar of the water dashing against<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"></a>[170]</span>
+the clay—a sound which echoed through the jungle and
+gained in volume until we drowsily knew we were listening to
+the howling of the red baboons. Even this invasion of man
+merged harmoniously with the sounds of the wilderness.</p>
+
+<h4>LIFE ABOUT THE BUNGALOW.</h4>
+
+<p>We remained at Hoorie just seven days—only long enough
+to begin to look beneath the surface and realize what a
+veritable wonderland it was for scientist or nature lover.</p>
+
+<p>On the last day of our stay we wrote in our journal;
+“Hoorie is a perfect health resort; temperature good<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a>; no
+mosquitoes; food excellent; splendid place for laboratory
+work; interesting insect life superabundant; birds and lizards
+abundant; snakes rare; perai, electric eels and manatees
+in the creek; peccary, deer, red howlers, armadillos, sloths
+and ant-eaters within short distance of bungalow.” What
+more could be asked?</p>
+
+<p>The bungalow was a well-built house with wide veranda,
+perched on the cleared summit of a low hill sloping
+evenly in all directions; the thick bush and shrubby undergrowth
+beginning about one hundred feet down the hillside.</p>
+
+<p>We shall not attempt to describe or even mention the many
+varieties of creatures which haunted the clearing, but leaving
+these for our scientific reports, we shall speak only of those
+which are especially interesting.</p>
+
+<p>When one enters a vast forested wilderness such as this,
+and makes a good-sized clearing, the inmates of the forest
+are bound to be affected. The most timid ones flee at the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"></a>[171]</span>
+first stroke of the axe; others, swayed by curiosity, return
+again and again to watch the interlopers. A third class,
+learning somehow of the new settlement, come post haste
+and make themselves at home. These are chiefly birds,
+which, seldom or never found living in the heart of the jungle,
+are as keen as Vultures to spy out a new clearing. They
+must follow the canoes and trail, else it is impossible to
+imagine how they learn of new outposts—whether a simple
+Indian hammock shelter and cassava field, or a great commercial
+undertaking such as this gold mine.</p>
+
+<p>To begin with the birds, the Hoorie clearing possessed
+two pairs of Blue,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird143">143</a></span> three pairs of Palm,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird144">144</a></span> and five pairs of
+Silverbeak<span class="bird"><a href="#bird146">146</a></span> Tanagers, besides six Blue-backed Seedeaters.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird131">131</a></span>
+None of these are forest birds and all nest in brushy places.</p>
+
+<p>The Blue Tanagers are clad in delicate, varying shades of
+pale blue; the Palm Tanagers in dull olive green, but both
+make up in noisy sibilant cries what they lack in color. The
+Silverbeaks are beautiful, shading from rich wine color to
+black, and with conspicuous silvery blue beaks. The little
+Seedeaters were the most familiar birds about the bungalow,
+coming to the steps to feed on fallen seeds.</p>
+
+<p>One of the first things which caught our eye were several
+brilliantly iridescent green birds, insect-catching, among the
+brush near the house. These were Paradise Jacamars,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird85">85</a></span>
+and they had their homes in the clay banks of the rivulets,
+deep buried in the narrow valleys which abounded in the
+forest.</p>
+
+<p>Each bird had two or more favorite twigs. When bug-hunting
+flagged at one post they flew with a long swoop to the
+second point of vantage. Our assistant, Crandall, observing
+this, laid a limed twig across the lookout perch and in a short
+time had caught two male birds. Their mates called loudly
+for a time, then disappeared. Before night both had returned
+with new mates, which we left in peace.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"></a>[172]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure078" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure078.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 78. Engine House and Flume of Hoorie Gold Mine.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"></a>[173]</span></p>
+
+<p>They were tame and allowed us to approach within eight
+or ten feet before flying to their alternate perches. Their
+feet are small and weak and they have a hunched up look
+as they perch in wait, turning the head rapidly in every
+direction and now and then swooping like a flash after some
+tiny insect, engulfing it with a loud snap of the mandibles.
+Their call-note is a sharp, repeated <i>pip! pip! pip! pip!</i></p>
+
+<p>These birds welcome the clearing, as it means an increased
+supply of insect food. They learn the value even of the
+opening made by the fall of a single tree deep in the jungle,
+and here and elsewhere we noticed that a single pair of Jacamars
+would keep busy day after day in the patch of sunlight
+let in by the death of some forest giant. Jacamars
+form a rather compact group of some twenty species; in
+habit like Flycatchers; in appearance and nest like Kingfishers,
+but in structure more closely related to Toucans and
+Woodpeckers.</p>
+
+<p>Even in the short time which we spent at Hoorie we learned
+to expect a regular daily movement on the part of many of
+the birds. Early each morning a flock of about a dozen
+splendid Jays worked slowly around the edge of the clearing,
+at last disappearing behind the bungalow into the woods.
+In the north this would not be an unusual sight, but it must
+be remembered that members of the Jay family, like the
+Wood Warblers, are rarely seen in the tropics. Crows and
+Ravens are entirely absent from South America, and but two
+species of Jays find their way into British Guiana.</p>
+
+<p>Our Hoorie birds were Lavender Jays<span class="bird"><a href="#bird161">161</a></span> and although so
+far from the home of their family they were no whit the less
+Jay-like. They constantly hailed each other with a varied
+vocabulary of harsh cries and calls, and now and then held
+a morsel of food between the toes and pounded it vigorously.
+They flapped but seldom, passing with short sailing flights
+from branch to branch not far from the ground.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a>[174]</span></p>
+
+<p>At night they returned rather more rapidly—less absorbed
+in feeding—probably to some roosting place of which they
+alone knew. With them, night and morning, were a few
+Red-backed Bunyahs or Cassiques,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird152">152</a></span> early nesters from the
+colony at the dam, of which more anon. The two species
+seemed to associate closely, although it was evident that it
+was the Bunyahs which had taken up with the sturdy pioneers
+from the North.</p>
+
+<p>A short distance away from the bungalow a huge Mora
+stood in the forest looking down on all the trees around.
+The lightning bolt which had torn off its bark and killed it,
+had also consumed its dense clothing of parasitic vines and
+bush-ropes. So now it stood with naked, clean wood high
+above the sea of foliage, and within a day after our arrival we
+had christened it the Toucan Mora.</p>
+
+<p>In the evening, about on the stroke of seven, the first comers
+would arrive—a trio of Black-banded Aracaris<span class="bird"><a href="#bird84">84</a></span> which
+alight and preen their feathers. These may remain quiet for
+about twenty minutes, but more often take to flight at the
+approach of a screaming flock of eight or ten Mealy Amazon
+Parrots<span class="bird"><a href="#bird63">63</a></span> which scatter over the branches. But the other
+species of Toucans are now awake and soon the Parrots are
+in turn driven off, and four or five big-billed fellows usurp
+the dead Mora and sun themselves or call loudly to the Vultures
+swinging high overhead. There are two species of these
+larger Toucans, the Red-billed<span class="bird"><a href="#bird81">81</a></span> and the Sulphur and White-breasted,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird82">82</a></span>
+and they seem to live together amicably, but war
+with the small Aracaris. The notes of the Red-billed Toucans
+are like the yapping of a puppy, uttered in pairs and differing
+slightly, thus, <i>yap! yip! yap! yip!</i> The great mandibles
+are opened and thrown upward at each utterance. The
+brilliant white-breasted birds call loudly <i>kiok! kiok!</i> in a high,
+shrill tone very unlike that of their fellows.</p>
+
+<p>Morning and evening the Toucans and Parrots pass,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"></a>[175]</span>
+always alighting on the dead Mora, while during the day we
+detect them deep in the jungle, feeding in the tops of the
+trees and sending down to us their calls, <i>yap!</i>, <i>kiok!</i> or
+<i>squawk!</i> as the case may be.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp88" id="figure079" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure079.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 79. The “Little Giant” at Work.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>A fourth species, the Red-breasted Toucan<span class="bird"><a href="#bird83">83</a></span> was occasionally
+seen high in the tree tops. These birds had two distinct
+utterances, one a frog-like croak, and the other a double-toned
+shrill cry, the two tones being B and B# above middle C.</p>
+
+<p>Early in the evenings, about six o’clock, all the Banded Swallows<span class="bird"><a href="#bird118">118</a></span>
+of the surrounding region passed overhead in a dense
+flock, two or three hundred in all, soaring with a steady, half-sailing
+flight very different from the dashing swoops which
+carry them over the lake when feeding during the day. Now
+they are headed northward to some safe roosting place and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"></a>[176]</span>
+with no thought of passing gnats. The myriads of graceful,
+glossy blue forms, each crossed on the breast with a band of
+white, made a most beautiful sight. In the morning their
+return flight was by twos and threes, with rapid darts here and
+there. Hunger now permitted no dressing of ranks or close
+formation. During the day none were to be seen about the
+bungalow, but only on the lake or along the creek bed. The
+unfortunate gnats which hummed in the bungalow clearing
+were attended to by the little Feather-toed Palm Swifts,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird71">71</a></span>
+which were most abundant.</p>
+
+<p>Among the hosts of smaller birds which haunted the tree-tops
+at the edge of the clearing, the Black-faced Green Grosbeaks<span class="bird"><a href="#bird135">135</a></span>
+were especially noticeable. In color they reminded
+one of immature male Orchard Orioles, being yellowish
+green with black throat and face. They fed morning and
+evening on the reddish berries of a great vine which ripened
+its fruit in the tree-tops, and here their song was repeated
+over and over, a rattling buzz, like the rapid stroke of a
+stick along the palings of a fence, followed by three liquid,
+whip-like notes, thus:</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="music1" style="max-width: 18.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="music/music1.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption x-ebookmaker-drop"><p>[<a href="music/music1.mp3">Listen</a>] | [<a href="music/music1.mxl">MusicXML</a>]</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The buzz part of the song also
+did duty as the call-note.</p>
+
+<p>Once or twice each day we would be treated to a glimpse
+of the wonderful Pompadour Cotingas.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird116">116</a></span> A flock of four
+male birds would flash overhead and swing up to some lofty
+perch, wary, silent, but of exquisite color. The whole body
+was of a brilliant reddish purple—rich wine color—with
+wings of purest white. Silhouetted against the blue sky
+as they were perched close together, they might have been
+Starlings or Blackbirds as far as color went, but when they
+all shot off into the air and showed up against the green
+leaves they fairly blazed—the yellow eyes, the scintillating
+purple plumage, and the dazzling white wings. The last
+flash of the wings before they were folded out of sight was a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"></a>[177]</span>
+most efficient protection as it seemed to hold the vision, so
+that several moments elapsed before the perching bird itself
+could be located.</p>
+
+<p>The sombre, ashy females were not observed; certainly
+they never joined in the flights with the quartet of males.
+In the latter sex, a half dozen or more of the greater wing
+coverts are stiffened and the webs curved around almost into
+little tubes. We know practically nothing of the wild habits
+of the Pompadour Cotinga but a most remarkable thing about
+the color is that, by the application of a little heat, it turns
+from deep reddish purple to pale yellow. It is rather interesting
+to compare this with the changing of the Purple
+Finch from rose-red to yellowish in captivity. The Chatterers
+or Cotingas form one of the most interesting tropical
+families of birds, and we lost no opportunity of studying
+closely all which we observed. At Hoorie, beside the Pompadour
+Cotingas we saw the Black-tailed Tityra.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird113">113</a></span> In Mexico
+we had seen a closely related species and here again were the
+strange “Frog-birds,” with a little more black on the cap
+and tail.</p>
+
+<p>We first observed a pair near the colony of Red-backed
+Bunyahs in the creek bed, but as we were leaving the bungalow
+for the last time, our farewell was made all the harder
+by discovering that the Tityras had begun to nest in a small
+dead stub standing alone in the centre of the vegetable garden
+and not twenty yards from the bungalow.</p>
+
+<p>The birds were having a hard time of it, carrying stiff, four-inch
+twigs into a three-inch hole, but they were succeeding,
+showing that they knew better than to hold the twig by the
+centre. The whole head to below the eyes and including the
+upper nape was black, while the bare skin of the face and the
+basal two-thirds of the beak were bright red. The male was
+uniformly pale bluish white, while his mate was distinguished
+by many rather faint streaks of black on the breast,
+sides, and under parts. Both birds alternated in carrying
+the nesting material and in arranging it, remaining silent
+as long as we watched them. The nesting stub was about
+six inches in diameter and the hole thirty feet above the
+ground.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"></a>[178]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure080" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure080.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 80. Carib Hunter and His Children at Hoorie.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"></a>[179]</span></p>
+
+<p>These birds lack the bright hues of most of their relatives,
+but have the family trait of possessing some queer trick of
+plumage. While the first flight feather of the wing is perfectly
+normal, measuring about three and a half inches in length, the
+second is a mere parody of a feather, tapering to a point and
+reaching a length of less than two inches. Only the true
+lover of birds will realize what an effort it took to tear ourselves
+away from this pair of birds, whose eggs and young
+appear to be as yet undescribed.</p>
+
+<p>Two Marail Guans<span class="bird"><a href="#bird6">6</a></span> and a Trumpeter<span class="bird"><a href="#bird25">25</a></span> were interesting inmates
+of the hen-yard and made no effort to escape, although
+they were full-winged and had the run of the clearing. The
+Trumpeter went to roost each night at 5.30 as punctually as
+if he had a watch under his wing. He slept standing on one
+leg, resting on the first joints of his front toes, his head
+drawn back behind his wing.</p>
+
+<p>Often on our walks we would come across an Indian hut,
+so hidden away in the depths of the dense forest that its
+discovery was merely a matter of chance. Most of these
+huts consisted simply of four poles covered by the rudest
+sort of a palm-thatched roof. The house furnishing was as
+primitive as the house itself—a hammock for each member
+of the family; varying in size in proportion to that of their
+owners, like the chairs of the historic nursery characters—the
+“Three Bears.” One or two calabashes or gourds,
+several hand-woven baskets of cassava bread, some strips of
+dried fish and a smoky fire completed the picture.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"></a>[180]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure081" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure081.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 81. Three Generations of Carib Indians.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"></a>[181]</span></p>
+
+<p>The entire domestic life of these Indian establishments
+went on perfectly openly and quite unaffected by our curious
+scrutiny. We rarely saw the Indian men at home; they
+were off hunting, or fishing, or perhaps employed by the
+mine as woodcutters. The women were always busy, cooking,
+planting cassava, spinning cotton, weaving hammocks
+and baskets and bead aprons, necklaces and bracelets. We
+could never resist the temptation to stop and make friends
+with them. The gift of a cigarette won their hearts and we
+invariably found them very gentle and kindly. Their costumes
+were extraordinary. Those who had been presented
+with the garments of civilization proudly wore them, though
+they were nothing more than short, loose slips. But the
+majority wore their native dress—consisting chiefly of beads;
+certainly far more healthful and suitable for them than the
+unaccustomed clothing given them by the missionaries. The
+children were lovable little pieces of bronze, very smooth
+and glossy. They would often come softly up and slip their
+small hands in ours, looking up at us with shy wonder.</p>
+
+<p>In one of the huts we watched with amusement the wee-est
+of Indian girls trying to drive away a huge rooster who was
+pervading the hut. The child could not have been more than
+two years old—but she was already thoroughly feminine,
+waving her small arms valiantly at the intruder and then
+running away terrified to bury her head in her mother’s
+hammock, until she could summon courage for another
+attack upon the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>As time went on and news of our arrival spread, Indians
+from huts far distant in the forest made expeditions to come
+and look at us; as curious about us as was the small boy
+living up on the Essequibo River who saved up his “bits”
+and took a long journey down the river to see a horse. He
+had heard that there were such creatures but he wished
+to investigate for himself. So tours were made to see us and
+we were inspected by wondering eyes to whom white women
+were as strange as were horses to the little “bush” lad.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"></a>[182]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure082" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure082.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 82. Mr. Wilshire and Crandall with Dead Bushmaster.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"></a>[183]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure083" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure083.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 83. The Terrible Bushmaster.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"></a>[184]</span></p>
+
+<p>One day at the bungalow we found a group of Indian
+children gathered about the door of the modern bathroom
+which Mr. Wilshire had had fitted up. It was all a great
+puzzle to the little dwellers in the forest. To amuse them
+we took them in and turned on and off the shower bath, trying
+to explain what it was, but all to no purpose. To them
+a bath meant “me wash skin in river”; while the shower-bath
+was merely an interesting scientific phenomenon—the
+mysterious white beings were making rain at their own will!</p>
+
+<p>We were disappointed at not getting more photographs of
+the Indians. Their prejudice against being photographed
+is a deep-rooted superstition. They feel that it gives you a
+superhuman power over them. Indians often ran like deer
+through the woods when we pointed the camera at them
+and it was only by passing around candy to those who came
+to the bungalow and so diverting their attention from the
+dreaded camera, that we secured any pictures at all.</p>
+
+<p>We encountered but one poisonous serpent, and that one
+by proxy. A big bushmaster or couanacouchi, all but dead,
+was brought to the house one day by an Indian who had
+speared it. It had been found coiled up on the forest leaves
+and was so like them in color that the Indian had nearly
+trod upon it. Although we searched thoroughly we could
+never find a second specimen.</p>
+
+<h4>A DAY IN THE JUNGLE NEAR HOORIE.</h4>
+
+<p>The region about Hoorie consists chiefly of small but
+steep hills, some isolated with a few hundred yards of flat
+land about them, others close together and separated by
+deep, narrow valleys with running water at the bottom. All
+drain into Hoorie Creek which from the mine clearing runs
+in a fairly straight direction through flat, marshy land to the
+Barama River up which we had come. The whole country
+is, of course, completely covered with a thick forest, of good-sized<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"></a>[185]</span>
+trees, which are heavily draped with vines and parasitic
+plants, although these are not dense enough to shut out the
+sunlight. Thus in many places a heavy undergrowth is
+found, making it difficult to get about, while the steep ascents
+and equally precipitous descents into the numerous intersecting
+valleys make extended exploration an arduous task,
+especially in the directions away from Hoorie Creek. But
+in this land of superabundant life, one needs but a short
+walk to fill one’s note-book with interesting facts. Let us
+spend a day in the jungle.</p>
+
+<p>In light marching order, with glasses and note-books only,
+we started out in the direction of the great pit of golden gravel,
+and finding Nasua, the coolie, we persuaded him to pan a
+few shovelfuls of earth from the surface of the ground within
+reach of the spray of the water spouting up towards us.</p>
+
+<p>It was fascinating to watch his slender deft fingers and
+his skilful manipulation of the gold pan. Filling it to overflowing
+with gray or red clay, he half sank it beneath the
+surface of a little pool and began rocking and turning it.
+Soon the large pebbles were all eliminated and only a muddy
+sediment left. This was washed and revolved until there
+seemed nothing but clear water, when as the last dirt was
+flowed over the rim there came the flash of the golden grains.
+Pressing his fingers on these, the pan was reversed for a
+moment, and then dipping his finger tips in the clear water of
+our glass vial the yellow grains sank swiftly to the bottom.
+Sometimes only a half penny’s worth would reward us, while
+again as much as a shilling’s value would be shown.</p>
+
+<p>Passing over the ridge we saw before us a deep and very
+narrow valley with precipitous sides, down which we slid and
+crawled, hanging on to vines and saplings to break our descent.
+At the bottom we found an interesting advance in the
+evolution of gold mining over the simplest form of gold panning.
+Two blacks were operating a “Long Tom,” which in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a>[186]</span>
+mining vernacular is the name for a six by two, heavy, coarse,
+metal sieve set obliquely in the channel of a small brook.
+The gold-bearing gravel and clay is shovelled into it and puddled
+with a hoe, and the gold settles to the bottom to be later
+panned. Thus division of labor enters in—one black
+shovelling while his partner puddles. We asked them how
+much they were getting out and, as usual, they said “almost
+nothing,” or a few shillings’ worth at the most! This was
+to avoid any danger of their tiny holdings being considered
+too valuable and taken away from them. Mr. Wilshire took
+a pan here on another day and unearthed a tiny nugget,
+worth perhaps two shillings, much to the blacks’ discomfiture,
+who hastened to explain that such an opulent<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"></a>[187]</span>
+find was indeed rare. The poor fellows at best make little
+enough and it was pitiful to see the tiny packets of gold dust
+which they brought to the company’s store at the end of the
+week to exchange for food or credit checks. The universal
+Guianan name for this type of independent miner is “pork-knocker,”
+the explanation being that by knocking the rocks
+to pieces, they find just enough gold to procure the pork upon
+which they live.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp67" id="figure084" style="max-width: 28.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure084.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 84. Panning Gold.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>They are allowed to work on side streams near the large
+mining operations, their total taking of gold being relatively
+insignificant, while they sometimes locate valuable deposits
+in the course of their wanderings. They are a jolly, happy-go-lucky
+type, apparently careless of their luck and invariably
+optimistic of the future.</p>
+
+<p>A naturalist would find it difficult to keep his attention
+fixed on “Pan” or “Long Tom” in this narrow glade, for
+great iridescent blue morpho butterflies are floating about
+everywhere among the lights and shadows. From some tall
+trees a continual shower of whirling objects are falling, some
+white, others purple. Catching one we find it to be a narrow
+petaled, five parted, star-like blossom (<i>Petræa arborea</i>),
+weighted by a slender stem. When thrown up into the air
+they revolve like horizontal pin-wheels, falling slowly and
+forming a most remarkable rain of color. Forcing our
+way up the opposite slope and on through the underbrush
+we come out on the corduroy road half a mile from the
+mine.</p>
+
+<p>As a corduroy sapling turns and splashes the water under
+foot, a cloud of orange and white butterflies arises and
+scatters through the woods. Suddenly through the warm
+damp stillness there rings out a piercing, three-syllabled cry,
+which was to become for us the vocal spirit of the Guiana
+wilderness. Day after day we heard it wherever the unbroken
+primeval forest reigned, but never near the haunts of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"></a>[188]</span>
+man. This, with the roar of the red baboon and the celestial
+theme of the Quadrille Bird, forms the trilogy most cherished
+in our memory of all the Guiana sounds.</p>
+
+<p>We are listening to the call of the Gold or Greenheart
+Bird,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird115">115</a></span> another member of the Cotingas or Chatterers,
+which is as remarkable for its voice as it is lacking in brilliant
+colors. Loud as the call is, it is very ventriloquil and difficult
+to locate. When directly beneath the sound it seems to
+come from the tops of the highest trees, a hundred feet up,
+whereas in all probability the bird is not more than twenty-five
+feet above our heads. It sits motionless but the violence
+of its utterance makes the whole branch vibrate. We soon
+learn that to search and find the bird directly is impossible,
+but by letting the eyes take in as large a field as possible,
+the vibration from the vocal effort is easily discernible.</p>
+
+<p>The male Goldbird is uniformly ashy or slate-colored,
+slightly darker above, very Solitaire-like both in color and
+size. The female is distinguished by a shade of rufous on the
+wing-coverts and the tips of the flight feathers. With such
+coloring it is not strange that the bird becomes invisible amid
+the dark shadows of the lower branches.</p>
+
+<p>The natives know this bird as the <i>Pe-pe-yo</i> from its call,
+and Goldbird from the fact that all pork-knockers believe
+it is never found far from deposits of gold; while the theory
+that it usually utters its call from a greenheart tree accounts
+for its third name.</p>
+
+<p>Its note is typical of our American tropics, where highly
+developed song is rare, but single loud, metallic or liquid
+syllables are the rule. The bird has two introductory
+phrases which heretofore seem to have escaped the notice of
+observers. Indeed, until one noticed the invariable sequence
+of the two sets of notes, it would never be suspected that they
+proceeded from the same bird. The introductory phrases
+are low and muffled and yet have considerable carrying power.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"></a>[189]</span>
+They possess the indescribable vibrating chord-like quality
+of the Veery’s song which defies all description. Musically
+they may be written thus:</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="music2" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="music/music2.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption x-ebookmaker-drop"><p>[<a href="music/music2.mp3">Listen</a>] | [<a href="music/music2.mxl">MusicXML</a>]</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Almost instantly follow the three notes of the call or song.
+They are of tremendous strength and exceedingly liquid and
+piercing. The nearest imitation is to whistle the syllables
+<i>wheé! wheé! o!</i> as loudly as possible. We never tire of
+listening. The bird overhead calls so loudly that our ears
+tingle; another answers, then a third and a fourth, far away
+in the dim recesses of the forest.</p>
+
+<p>Many miles inland near the wonderful plateau of Roraima
+lives another species of Goldbird, similar to ours except for
+a bright rosy pink collar around the neck. We saw nothing
+of this beautiful Cotinga, but one of the Goldbirds which we
+secured had a distinct but irregular collar of rufous, hinting
+of a not distant relationship.</p>
+
+<p>A short distance along the corduroy road we came upon a
+half dozen naked Indians cutting away underbush, preparatory
+to making a new road bed. It was a delight to watch
+their sinewy bodies bend and strain, moving here and there
+through the thorns and sharp twigs with never a scratch.
+They came across many curious creatures among the rotting
+trunks and leaf mould, and when they learned we were interested,
+they would tie their captives with liana threads, or
+imprison them in clever leaf boxes, and save them for us.
+The most weird looking of these were gigantic whip scorpions
+or pedipalp spiders (<i>Admetus pumilio</i>) like brobdignagian
+daddy-long-legs, which crawled painfully about on their
+slender legs and never showed an inclination to bite. They<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a>[190]</span>
+were of great size, stretching some eight and a half inches
+across. The three hinder pairs of legs were normal and used
+for walking, while the fourth pair was attenuated and functioned
+as feelers—the “whips”—measuring full ten inches
+in length. The jaws were most terrible organs, three inches
+long, dove-tailed with wicked spines, while the tips ended in
+villainous fangs.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp52" id="figure085" style="max-width: 21.875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure085.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 85. Whip Scorpion or Pedipalp Spider.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>A few hundred yards farther we came to a small clearing
+where the squaws were cooking dinner. The houses of these
+happy people are of the simplest construction. Four poles
+support a roof covered with loose palm thatch, open on all<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"></a>[191]</span>
+sides. The hammocks are hung beneath this and an open
+fire is built in the centre. The Guiana Indians are unequalled
+exponents of the simple life.</p>
+
+<p>In the deep jungle we are constantly impressed with the
+straightness of all the trunks. The lianas and bush-ropes
+may be scalloped or spiral, or with a multitude of little steps
+like the Monkey Ladder, and still easily reach the life-giving
+light high overhead. But the trees can afford no bends or
+curves or gnarly trunks; they rise like temple columns.
+Cell must be on cell, each to aid in the life race upward.
+There are seldom high winds here in this great calm hot-house.
+Everywhere between the great trunks—whitish
+in the Crabwood, smoothed and noded in the Congo Pump,
+and deeply fluted in the Paddlewoods—between all these
+mast-like forms, are draped the slender ratline threads and
+cables of the aërial rigging.</p>
+
+<p>We seat ourselves on a prostrate trunk free of scorpions,
+at one side of the corduroy road, and watch and listen.
+Beside us on a tiny, dull red Mora sprout, eating voraciously
+is a caterpillar, branched and rebranched with a maze of
+nettle-hairs, while near it is another—a fuzzy fellow—who
+gives us one of the most unexpected surprises of the whole
+trip. As we first see him he is palest lavender in color,
+covered with long straight hairs, longer than those of our
+familiar black and brown woolly bear caterpillar of the north.
+Five minutes later we look again and see a third caterpillar—or
+no, it is the second one, but remarkably changed—a creature
+flat and immovable, covered with a score of recurved
+pink tufts of curled hair. The caterpillar chameleon has
+flattened his longer pelage of lavender into a thin line of
+prostrate down, bringing into view the recurved pink tufts,
+and thus has become an entirely different object, both as
+to shape, color and pattern. There must be a special set of
+muscles controlling these hairs. Even if a bird had appetite<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"></a>[192]</span>
+to digest such an unsavory hirsute object, it would well be
+dismayed at the transformation.</p>
+
+<p>Everywhere we observe examples of protective form or
+coloration. On the under side of a branch in front of us
+are what appear to be many tufts of blackish moss—until
+we brush against some of it and a few of the tufts resolve
+into dense bunches of caterpillars. Others which we touch
+on purpose to see if they be caterpillars or not, deceive us
+doubly by retaining their vegetable character.</p>
+
+<p>On the ground at our feet are scattered seed sheaths which
+have fallen from the branches high overhead. There are
+myriads of them. Suddenly one takes legs to itself and
+moves and only after examining it closely do we know it for
+a beautiful brown elater, a beetle (<i>Semiotus ligneus</i>) embossed
+with pale ivory—a perfect living counterpart of the arboreal
+seed sheaths strewn all about. Words completely fail to
+give an idea of the wonder and delight of having one’s senses
+set at naught by these devices of nature. After being taken
+in by several, we imagine we see them everywhere in innocent
+leaves or bit of lichens!</p>
+
+<p>Many travellers—Wallace and Bates among them—speak
+often of the scarcity of flowers in the tropics, but here
+at Hoorie and on our later expeditions we were hardly ever out
+of sight of blossoms. A few feet behind us, as we sit on the log,
+are two Solomon-seal-like plants (<i>Castus</i> sp.) eighteen inches
+high, with the stem and leaves growing in a wide ascending
+spiral—making one revolution throughout its course. A sheaf
+of flower heads appears at the top of the plant with a single
+white open flower, giving forth the sweetest perfume. Bell-shaped,
+it is formed by a single sweeping petal, the edges
+apposed along the summit, and the mouth rimmed with the
+finest hair-like fringe. The slit in the upper part is protected
+by a second narrow petal recurved at the tip, showing the
+heart within. Such a blossom would be a splendid addition<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"></a>[193]</span>
+to our conservatories, and a vast harvest awaits the grower
+of tropical plants other than orchids.</p>
+
+<p>Now, the morning half gone, rain falls—a gentle mist,
+light as dew, refreshing and pleasant.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp71" id="figure086" style="max-width: 29.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure086.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 86. A Jungle Blossom.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Through the drops to the blossom comes a great morpho
+butterfly of blue tinsel, soon followed by a big yellow papilio.
+A tiny white butterfly, bordered with black, dashes up and
+attacks the papilio with fury, driving it away, as a Kingbird
+vanquishes a Hawk.</p>
+
+<p>Just as we are about to arise, a Goldbird calls in the
+distance and then without warning a beautiful song rings
+out close at hand—six or eight clear descending notes like
+the early morning chant of the Woodhewer, but even more<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"></a>[194]</span>
+liquid, running together at the last into a maze of warbling
+which continues for eight or ten seconds—then ceases, and
+the liquid notes form an exquisite finalé of a trio of sweet
+phrases. The singer is invisible; we never learn what it is,
+but it deserves a place near the head of the songsters even
+of temperate climes. As we walk along, Toucans and other
+birds fly high overhead with whirring beats of their drenched
+wings. Woodhewers loop from trunk to trunk and peer at us
+as we pass, while Ant-birds fly here and there. In all our
+tramps through thick jungles, these two latter families are
+in the majority, the former hitching up the trunks like brown
+Woodpeckers of various sizes, the latter simulating Wrens,
+Warblers and Sparrows in action and often in voice.</p>
+
+<p>One, a White-shouldered Pygmy Ant-bird,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird91">91</a></span> now flits ahead
+of us, tiny as a Wren, slate-colored, with white dots on
+the lesser coverts of the wings and a dotted bar across the
+wings. The flanks and under wings are white and although
+ordinarily concealed, yet the little fellow flirts his wings every
+second, thus flashing out the color, and making himself most
+conspicuous. His call-note is low and inarticulate, but he
+occasionally lisps a pleasing little song; <i>chu! chu! chúwee!</i></p>
+
+<p>We enter a deep narrow gully, our feet sinking deep in moss
+and mould, trip over a hidden root and, looking back, see
+a magnificent rhinoceros beetle which we have disturbed,
+feebly kicking his six legs in the air. In these deep valleys
+the air is saturated with reeking odors—woody, spicy and
+mouldy and altogether delightful. Moss grows on the
+stems of the plants like wide radiating fans of delicate green
+lace. In these places we find the commonest palms which
+grow near Hoorie—stemless, with fronds springing fern-like
+from the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the vicinity of the trail we start out through the
+heart of the jungle, keeping by compass in a general northwest
+direction. Here the trees increase in size and grow<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"></a>[195]</span>
+almost thirty feet apart, the intervening space being filled
+with lesser growth, parasitic lianas and huge ferns eight to
+twelve feet in height, tree-ferns in size but not in mode of
+growth.</p>
+
+<p>The rain now increases and we plod happily along
+drenched to the skin, giving ourselves up to the delight of a
+walk in a tropical downpour. Serenely oblivious of pools and
+dripping branches, we trudge along until finally a tacuba
+over a creek breaks with our weight and we splash in up to
+our waists. Indeed we had long ago become accustomed to
+such drenchings, for during our stay at Hoorie the days were
+alternate sunshine and shower. In starting out for a long
+tramp we never thought of taking any protection against the
+rain. The only thing to be shielded was the precious camera.
+What matters a wetting when one is perfectly dressed for
+whatever may happen!</p>
+
+<p>A word must be said here from the woman’s point of
+view about the costume which was adopted as being absolutely
+suited to the bush life. In the first place it was light—so
+light that one never felt the burden of a single superfluous
+ounce of weight, and when thus freed from the drag of heavy
+clothing one would come in unfatigued from tramps which
+would have been impossible for a woman in orthodox dress,
+no matter how short the skirt. But in the light khaki
+knickerbockers, loose negligee shirts of scotch flannel or
+fibrous cellular cloth, stockings and tennis shoes and a water-proof
+felt hat, one was ready for anything. If soaked by a
+sudden downpour, a few minute’s walk in the sun would dry
+one; if walking difficult tacubas, or clambering over huge
+fallen trees, of which there were any number throughout the
+forest, or climbing precipitous and slippery hills one was
+never hampered by unsuitable dress.</p>
+
+<p>Of course there are many wildernesses where it is unnecessary
+for a woman to wear knickerbockers and where there is no<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"></a>[196]</span>
+reason why she should defy public prejudice by doing so;
+but the woman who attempts to tramp through the South
+American jungle will find that safety and comfort make
+them absolutely essential.</p>
+
+<p>One realized as never before with what handicaps woman
+has tried to follow the footsteps of man; with the result that
+physical exhaustion has robbed her of all the joys of life in
+the open.</p>
+
+<p>Returning to our day in the jungle; we tramped silently
+over the sodden ground, now and then sending some
+panic-stricken Macaw or Parrot screeching from its roost.
+After an hour the rain ceased and the sun shone brightly, but
+where we were, many yards beneath the vast mat of tree-top
+foliage, only single spots and splashes of light broke the solid
+shadows. For a long distance we trod silently on deep
+mould and moss, and not a sound of beast or bird broke the
+stillness. As we crossed a swirling creek on the trunk of a
+mighty fallen tree, something fluttered ahead. We could
+not see what it was. Closer we came and still the object
+remained indistinct; we seemed to see a butterfly and yet it
+appeared impossible. At last we marked it down on a
+fern frond and crept up until our eyes were within two feet.
+Nothing was visible but the graceful lacery of the frond,
+until a slanting beam of sunlight struck it and there, close
+before us, was the ghost of a butterfly! It spread fully three
+inches but was wholly transparent save for three tiny spots
+of azure near the edge of the hind wings (<i>Haetera piera</i>).
+As we looked, it drifted to a double-headed flower of scarlet,
+and when it alighted, the scarlet of the flower and the green
+of the leaf were as distinct as if seen through thin mica,
+while the faint gray haze of the insect’s wings were marked
+only by the indistinct veination. The appearance of this
+ghostly butterfly amid the silence and awe-inspiring stillness
+of the reeking jungle was most impressive.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp93" id="butterfly" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/butterfly.jpg" alt="">
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"></a>[197]</span></p>
+
+<p>Then came an interruption, so sudden and unrelenting
+that it seemed to reach to the very heart of nature. A Red
+“Baboon” raised his voice less than fifty yards away, and
+even the leaves seemed to tremble with the violence of the
+outburst of sound. A long, deep, rasping, vibrating roar,
+followed by a guttural inhalation hardly less powerful. After
+a dozen connected roars and inbreathings the sound descended
+to a slow crescendo, almost died away and then
+broke out with renewed force.</p>
+
+<p>We crept swiftly toward the sound, treading as softly as
+possible and soon, in a high bulletwood, we saw three of the
+big red monkeys. The male passed on out of sight, and
+the second, a medium-sized animal, followed. The third
+was a mother with her baby clinging tightly to her back.
+She climbed slowly, showing her rich light golden red fur
+and beard, while the arms and legs of her dark-furred
+baby were revealed as lines of darker color around her
+body.</p>
+
+<p>Twenty minutes later we stalked another roaring male, and
+found four in this troop. We saw two of the females giving
+voice with the leader, shrill falsettos which became audible
+only during the less deafening inspiration.</p>
+
+<p>We tried to think of a simile for the voice of this monkey
+and could only recur to that which always came to mind—the
+roar of wind, ushering in a cyclone or terrific gale. And
+yet there was ever present to the ear the feeling of something
+living—as if mingled with the elemental roar was the howl
+of a male jaguar. No sound ever affected us quite as this;
+seeming always to prestige some unnamed danger. While
+it lasted, the sense of peace which had been inspired by the
+calmness and silence of the jungle gave place to a hidden
+portent of evil. Yet we loved it, and the savage delight
+which we took in this and other wilderness sounds made
+our pulses leap.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"></a>[198]</span></p>
+
+<h4>THE DROWNED FOREST.</h4>
+
+<p>At the engine house a ten foot dam had been thrown across
+the Hoorie Creek bed, and the apparently slight cause had
+brought about wide reaching effects; this slight raising of the
+water throwing back the creek in many directions. One
+could hardly call it a lake as there was no wide body of water,
+and yet it had a shore line of more than ten miles, reaching
+out a long finger-like extension up every side valley. The
+original creek was only a few feet wide and the jungle grew
+down to the very bank. So now the trees were deep under
+water.</p>
+
+<p>All which were below the new level were dead, standing
+like an array of tall bare ghosts compared to the luxuriant
+forest all about. When on a rise of ground, one could trace
+the course of the lake by the lines of naked branches. And
+when steering one’s canoe between the leafless trunks, the
+effect was most startling. The sunlight came through in a
+way different from any tropical forest. Every leaf had
+fallen, leaving the trees as bare as in a northern winter and
+stripping the vines and bush-ropes, but the condition of the
+parasites and air-plants was most interesting. All those
+which were truly parasitic, living on the life-sap of their
+hosts, were of course also dead, but the orchids and other
+air-plants were flourishing—showing as large tufts or
+sprays of light green here and there. In places the branches
+had a beaded effect, so numerous and yet so isolated were
+the epiphytes.</p>
+
+<p>We drifted silently along, by the impetus of a touch of the
+paddle on a passing trunk. Orchids were in blossom, and
+ferns, mosses and lichens ran riot in orange, brown and
+ivory patches on the tree-trunks. Muricots and the fierce
+perai were abundant here, and now and then some fish
+broke water, throwing rings of light into the shadowy places.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"></a>[199]</span>
+Spiders, ants and a host of other wingless insects were
+crawling on many of the trunks, made captive by the flood.
+Their inability to walk on the water was evident when we
+knocked some of them off, so they must have lived on their
+island trees for the last year, the time of existence of the
+dam. The spiders were legion in species, hardly two alike,
+from minute ones, shaped like nothing else under heaven,
+with relatively enormous hooks and thorns on their brightly
+colored abdomens, to giant tarantulas, who stood up and
+threatened us before beating a dignified retreat.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure087" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure087.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 87. The Drowned Forest.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The increase of water had attracted many water-loving
+birds, and great Rufous Kingfishers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird67">67</a></span> swung past us, strong-winged,
+beautiful birds, carrying on their business of life
+in a virile, unhesitating way. Between the trunks flashed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"></a>[200]</span>
+the White-banded Swallows<span class="bird"><a href="#bird118">118</a></span> now hovering before a trunk
+and snatching a spider, now dipping at full speed for a
+floating gnat. A hollow rattling drew our attention upward,
+and there, gazing intently down at us, was a splendid Woodpecker—the
+Guiana Ivory-bill,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird89">89</a></span> close kin to our Ivory-bill
+of the Florida swamps. Imagine a big Woodpecker with
+dark brown back, wings and tail, while the long erect crest,
+head, neck and breast are bright scarlet, shading into rich
+rufous on the under parts! Such a beauty looked down at
+us, and then without sign of fear dived into a hole.</p>
+
+<p>The Indians, passing several times a day, with loads of
+cord wood in their ballyhoos or flat-bottomed boats, were
+familiar with the Woodpecker and asserted that the bird
+had no mate. It was a male and although we visited the
+place several times no female ever appeared. The dead tree
+which held the nest was called Aramaca by the Indians, and
+was about a foot and a half in diameter, with the entrance
+not less than sixty feet above the water. A living tree like
+it on the bank near by had obtuse entire leaves and large,
+brown, slightly curved pods. The trunk was rotten, especially
+at the water line, and as it could not have remained
+standing much longer, we decided to investigate the home
+of this little-known bird.</p>
+
+<p>We hailed the first Indians who appeared and set them to
+work felling the tree. The Woodpecker flew out at the
+first stroke of the axe, and remained close by, showing little
+fear or anxiety. We landed and the Indians made the
+trunk fall in our direction. It struck the water with a terrific
+splash, breaking into several lengths, and finally coming to
+rest with the hole upward. Running out along the floating
+log we found that the nest contained a single bird, with no
+trace of addled eggs or other young. The opening was a
+circle, four inches in diameter, and the cavity fourteen inches
+deep. The young bird was about five days old, featherless<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"></a>[201]</span>
+and downless, but the sprouting feather tracts were very
+distinct.</p>
+
+<p>On the edge of the branches of the lower mandible, about
+three-quarters of the way to their base, were two round, white
+knobs or warts, and a large white patch like an abnormally
+large egg-tooth was at the tip of each mandible. These
+structures were undoubtedly direction marks for aiding the
+parent in finding the mouth of the young bird in the darkness
+of the nest chamber. When the mouth was open they formed
+the four corners, with the throat cavity in the centre.</p>
+
+<p>A most remarkable collection of creatures gathered on the
+upper side of their wrecked tree, tenants of the bark and wood
+for the last year. Two small green-headed lizards made
+flying leaps and escaped ashore. But marooned for life were
+several species of bark beetles (<i>Nyctobates giganteus</i> and
+<i>Paxillus leachii</i>), a huge boring beetle, and spiders galore.
+We noticed a slight disturbance among the bits of floating
+bark and pith, and scooped up a most wonderful creature—a
+true bug, perfectly flat, with the sides of its body drawn out
+into irregular flat serrations, while in color it was the very
+essence of lichened bark or dead leaf. Placed on a piece of
+wood it instantly drew in its legs and clung tightly. If it
+had not been frightened by the water we could have handled
+it a dozen times without knowing it was an insect.</p>
+
+<p>A few yards away a pair of Mealy Amazon Parrots<span class="bird"><a href="#bird63">63</a></span> were
+shrieking and flying restlessly about a great Mora tree,
+but we could not discover their nest. On our way home a
+dainty Blue Honey Creeper<span class="bird"><a href="#bird136a">136a</a></span> alighted on the bow of our
+canoe; rich deep blue except for wings, tail and throat which
+were black. The feet and legs were clear yellow, showing
+most conspicuously against the plumage.</p>
+
+<p>A pair of Great Green Cassiques<span class="bird"><a href="#bird150">150</a></span> had swung their
+four-foot pendent nest from the tallest limb of a tree standing
+in the water, and we spent ten minutes watching the male<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"></a>[202]</span>
+court his mate. As he uttered his incoherent medley of
+liquid cowbell-like notes, he bent his neck, thrusting his head
+far downward and forward, and at the same time throwing
+both wings forward and around in a semicircle. As this
+curious action was completed, the vocal utterance came to a
+close and the performance was over. The early stages in the
+evolution of such a courtship may be observed in our common
+Cowbird of the north, and a further developed stage in the
+little Guiana Cowbird.</p>
+
+<h4>THE CITY OF THE CASSIQUES.</h4>
+
+<p>On the first day of our arrival, even before we came in
+sight of the clearing, we heard the cries of the splendid big
+Orioles or Cassiques, known all over Guiana as Bunyahs.
+In the creek bed below the dam, but within the radius of the
+clearing, stood a medium sized tree and among its branches a
+colony of Scarlet-backed Cassiques<span class="bird"><a href="#bird152">152</a></span> were flying back and
+forth from their nests.</p>
+
+<p>We made a mental note of them at the time but passed on
+without giving them more than a glance. Later near the
+bungalow we occasionally saw them in small numbers
+associating, as we have already stated, with the Lavender
+Jays.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird161">161</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As we wished to take a number of young Cassiques back to
+New York with us and to study the colony as thoroughly as
+we could in the space of a week’s time, we started out early
+one morning for the Cassiques’ tree. The long pendent
+nests were all seventy feet or more from the ground. Taking
+the rusty climbing irons from their case, we recalled vividly
+the last time they had been in use—a cold June day in Nova
+Scotia, when the nesting hole of a Three-toed Woodpecker
+had been the goal. How different were these tropical
+surroundings!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"></a>[203]</span></p>
+
+<p>Bravely the start up the tree was made; jab and pull, jab
+and pull, while the straps pressed in on ankle and knee,
+giving that peculiar sensation that cannot be described, but
+which every climbing naturalist knows so well. Ten,
+twenty, thirty feet were scaled, and then one’s hand on the
+opposite side of the trunk broke through some tiny earthen
+tunnels, and, like many an unfortunate telegraph-line-man,
+struck a live wire. At least, the sensation was very much the
+same, only the electric shocks were here progressive, and
+when they had reached the elbow, they were seen to be a
+numerous and enthusiastically defensive horde of ants. At
+one end a pair of jaws gave a firm point of leverage and
+attachment, whereby the insect could secure a footing while
+operating the sting from the opposite end of his anatomy.</p>
+
+<p>There have been martyrs to science as well as religion, but
+much as one might desire to look into those nests only forty
+feet above, it may be doubted if any man could have controlled
+his feelings and coördinated his muscles sufficiently
+to continue the ascent. The details of the descent were hazy;
+an exceedingly rough trunk seemed to shoot upward through
+one’s embrace until the ground was reached and the Cassiques
+screamed their delight.</p>
+
+<p>They had seen many of the four-handed folk foiled in a
+similar manner, and now this new enemy, who scaled the
+trunk with two hands and two spurs was equally baffled by
+the tiny allies of the birds!</p>
+
+<p>But study the colony we must, and selecting a line of soft,
+springy underbrush, we had an Indian drop the tree on it
+A cloud of screaming Cassiques followed it to earth, scattering
+only as we ran up and began to gather the young birds. Out
+of the first nest there rushed a lizard about a foot in length,
+brown, with head and fore-legs bright green. He scurried
+like a streak of light across the red tailings, the speed sending
+him up on his hind legs, so that his track was bipedal.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"></a>[204]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp63" id="figure088" style="max-width: 26.5625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure088.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 88. Nests of Red-backed Cassiques.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Before we describe the condition of the colony as we found
+it when we reached the fallen tree, it will be interesting to
+record its early history as far as we know it. This was the
+first year of this colony of Cassiques, as last year there were
+none nearer the clearing than the mouth of Hoorie Creek,
+three and one-half miles away, where in a tree, overhanging
+the house of a black, a colony has been in existence for two
+years. Three months ago, in January, one Scarlet-backed
+Cassique was observed in the clearing at the mine, but it
+soon vanished. Within a few days, however, a number of
+these birds appeared, perhaps guided by the solitary scout.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"></a>[205]</span>
+They set to work at once, establishing their new colony in
+the tree which we had cut down. So at the time we began
+to study this colony, it could not have been older than three
+months.</p>
+
+<p>The tree stood alone in the centre of the tailings from
+the gold washing and 20 or 30 feet away from all the surrounding
+trees. The finely sifted sediment of the tailings
+had broadened out the water of the creek bed so that it
+flowed delta-like on both sides of the tree. With their
+characteristic intelligence, the Cassiques had taken advantage
+of this unusual condition, and were thus guarded from
+enemies, by the water, by the isolation from other trees
+and by the far more formidable stinging ants which probably
+for many years had had their home on the trunk of the tree.
+The little bird city as we found it contained 39 homes;
+three-quarters of which were on one branch, 70 feet from
+the ground, while 10 were suspended from a smaller branch,
+a few feet lower down. Of the 39 nests, 4 were only half
+finished, while 10 were empty, having been already used
+and deserted this season. The others may be divided as
+follows:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+
+<p>One nest contained an addled egg; white with brownish
+spots chiefly at the larger end.</p>
+
+<p>One nest had one egg containing a week old embryo.</p>
+
+<p>Two nests each had a skeleton of a well grown young
+bird; one of which had been caught about the neck, and the
+other about the legs by fine flexible tendrils which had caused
+their deaths.</p>
+
+<p>There were altogether 28 young birds: 9 full-fledged, 16
+with feathers just appearing, while 3 were recently hatched.
+They were distributed as follows:</p>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">14</td>
+    <td>nests contained</td>
+    <td class="tdr">1</td>
+    <td>young bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">7</td>
+    <td>nests contained</td>
+    <td class="tdr">2</td>
+    <td>young birds.</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a>[206]</span></p>
+
+<p>The special distribution was as follows:</p>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <th><i>Number and Condition of Young.</i></th>
+    <th><i>Number of Nests.</i></th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>2 well-fledged young in</td>
+    <td>2 nests.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>1 well-fledged young in</td>
+    <td>5 nests.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>2 partly fledged young in</td>
+    <td>4 nests.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>1 partly fledged young in</td>
+    <td>8 nests.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>2 newly hatched birds in</td>
+    <td>1 nest.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>1 newly hatched bird in</td>
+    <td>1 nest.</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The nests were typically Cassique-like, made of stout rootlets
+and grasses, while at the lower end was a cup-shaped
+lining of very fine grass and root hairs, forming a soft bedding.
+The nests varied from thirteen to eighteen inches in length,
+and all but five had an upper roosting chamber, built on
+above the entrance. These five were built directly beneath
+a group of others, and the bases of the ones above served as
+protecting roofs. This was a most interesting adaptation to
+varying conditions. Just before felling the tree we noticed in
+several instances that both parents shared in the work of
+bringing food to the young ones. Almost all of the young
+were uninjured by the fall of the tree. Three were thrown
+out of the nests and these we chloroformed in order to
+find what their food had been. The stomach of one was
+crammed with white seeds of two kinds; one nearly round
+and about as large as the head of a pin, while the others
+were longer, perhaps one-third of an inch in length. Mingled
+with these seeds were remains of numerous insects; beetles,
+grasshoppers and caterpillars. The two other birds, which
+were younger, and almost bare of feathers, had received chiefly
+animal food, as follows:—</p>
+
+<div class="blockquote">
+
+<p>1. A three-inch, smooth caterpillar, medium sized spider,
+many small bugs, and a mass of berry seeds.</p>
+
+<p>2. Several one-inch cut-worms; spider; small iridescent
+beetle; yellow butterfly; a few berry seeds.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"></a>[207]</span></p>
+
+<p>The young birds were almost without down, the adult
+plumage being outlined very shortly after hatching. In a
+bird of only four or five days the dull orange or yellowish
+color of the rump feathers shows plainly. When these
+break through their sheaths, the color is a dull rose; becoming
+redder as the feathers increase in length, but not attaining
+the brilliant scarlet of the parent birds until the succeeding
+moult. When full grown, these birds measure about ten
+inches in length and are glossy black in color, save only for
+the brilliant scarlet rump. The bill is a conspicuous greenish
+white, while the feet are black. The eyes of the nestling
+are dark hazel in color, while in the old birds the iris is of
+a most beautiful greenish blue.</p>
+
+<p>The voice of the very young birds is a shrill incessant <i>peep!
+peep!</i> when they are gaping for food, but the half-fledged
+youngsters utter solitary harsher notes under the same
+conditions. The five fully fledged birds had learned what
+fear was and instead of feeding, crouched down at the bottom
+of the artificial nest which Mr. Crandall made for them.
+But hunger overcame fear and before night all had taken
+food. We kept an Indian busy gathering a berry or fruit
+which looked, tasted and smelled much like a miniature
+tomato. The leaves of this low plant are large, deeply
+incised and studded above and below with numerous thorns.
+The plant is from three to six feet in height, is abundant in
+the clearing, and forms the favorite vegetable food of the
+Cassiques. In addition to this, the young birds had a few
+mealworms and ants’ eggs from our small store, and all the
+soft insects which our Indian could capture. After two full
+days of grasshopper catching, the pride of the noble red-man
+began to feel itself injured, and additional inducements in
+the way of tobacco were needed to sustain his interest in his
+orthopterous pursuits.</p>
+
+<p>On the following day the oldest of the young Cassiques<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"></a>[208]</span>
+flew feebly to a low perch and nothing could induce him to
+return to his fellows again. He uttered isolated call-notes,
+which however, at the approach of food, merged at once into
+the baby scream.</p>
+
+<p>We had carried the young Cassiques a third of a mile
+to the veranda of the bungalow, where they were put out of
+sight and sound of their parents; yet early next morning
+four Cassiques had discovered their offspring and were
+flying back and forth close to the house carrying food in
+their beaks. In an hour no fewer than twenty Cassiques had
+collected, and on placing the young out in a low tree, the
+parents came at once and fed them.</p>
+
+<p>One bird which we watched carefully brought masses of
+caterpillars which it inserted within the wide mouth of the
+young. Although the young birds were mixed up, five or
+six of the same size being placed together in one artificial
+nest, yet there was no question about recognition on the part
+of the old birds. At least there was no reckless undirected
+feeding; certain young were fed by certain adults.</p>
+
+<p>The second day after we had taken the young birds, no
+Cassiques came to feed them, and we found the reason was
+that the entire flock had begun to found a new colony in the
+very nearest tree to the one we had cut down, about twenty
+feet away. This too was isolated and protected both by
+shallow water and by the vicious tunneling ants.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the new nests must have been started the day
+before, as the roost chambers were complete and in several the
+top of the nest itself was finished. The rains had been rather
+heavy for a few days and may have influenced the early building
+of the shelters above the nest. To the three or four inches
+of nest the birds were bringing beakfuls of fibres, both sexes
+working energetically. We were glad to know that our
+wholesale destruction of the first colony site had wrought no
+permanent change. At the rate the birds were building, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"></a>[209]</span>
+second colony would be in a flourishing state in another two
+weeks.</p>
+
+<p>These Red-backed Cassiques<span class="bird"><a href="#bird152">152</a></span> together with their near
+relatives the Yellow-backs<span class="bird"><a href="#bird153">153</a></span> are most interesting birds, and
+a careful study of the growth and daily routine of a colony
+would yield most valuable results. They seem to trust more
+to the presence of man as a protection against enemies than
+to the guardianship of wasps, but both methods are to be
+found. We traced these birds all the way up the Barama,
+and from what we could learn, none were found higher up,
+the colony at Hoorie Mine being the farthest outpost.</p>
+
+<h4>NIGHT LIFE.</h4>
+
+<p>Owing to our brief stay and the difficulty of exploration in
+this hilly and densely underwooded country, we gained little
+thorough knowledge of the vertebrate fauna hereabouts.
+The phase of tropical life which, during the week of our stay,
+was most striking, was the wonderful host of insects attracted
+by the electric lights in the evening. The bungalow contained
+four large rooms, two on each side of a wide central passage,
+extending through the house—a kind of interior veranda,
+open front and back. This was the dining room, where
+every day we feasted upon delicious dishes of peccary, tinamou,
+curassow and paca, or “bush-hog,” “maam,” “powie”
+and “labba,” as we learned to call them in the vernacular.</p>
+
+<p>Here during the evening meal, after the lights were turned
+on, came legions of the most curious, the most beautiful
+winged creatures imaginable. We all turned entomologists
+and never tired of admiring the wonderful colors, and bizarre
+shapes which night after night were revealed in never-ending
+array. The first night Crandall sent up an excited call of
+“Get a vial! Get a vial!” and this became our vesper slogan.
+From the yard, or veranda, or room, or kitchen hut, would
+come the call from some of our party, “Get a vial!” and the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"></a>[210]</span>
+one nearest the array of bottles in the improvised laboratory
+would hasten to the aid of the discoverer, who would probably
+be found with eyes glued to some strange creature and
+blindly reaching out behind for the approaching vial, in
+which to capture his prize.</p>
+
+<p>There were few insects of very small size and many indeed
+were gigantic, as judged by our standards of the north.
+None were unpleasant and they seldom attempted suicide
+in soup or cocoa. They were content to flutter a moment
+about the electric globe and drop quietly to the white table-cloth.
+Praying mantises, or “rar-hosses” as our southern
+negroes call them, would whirr in and climb awkwardly over
+the bouquets of flowers, swaying from side to side and now
+and then reaching out for some passing insect, with a sudden
+unflexing of those murderous, deceptive fore-legs. One which
+flew on the table was a new species, which has been named
+<i>Stagmomantis hoorie</i>.<a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a> If exercise during meals is good
+for one’s digestion then we were hygienic in the extreme,
+for twenty times in succession we would have to go to the
+veranda laboratory to chloroform our captives.</p>
+
+<p>The second evening, although a heavy rain was falling, a
+bewildering number of moths, mostly small but of exquisite
+patterns, dashed in between the drops. There were almost
+never two alike; indeed among one hundred species captured
+on two evenings, there were but two duplicates.</p>
+
+<p>It is folly to try to describe with any exactness the beauty,
+even of the commonest, plainest insect, and how much more
+impossible to convey an accurate idea of these tropical beauties.
+Think of a sapling near an electric light covered with
+fifty or sixty exquisite moon moths (<i>Thysania agrippina</i>)—pale
+creamy white, banded and looped with lines of brown—none
+less than nine inches in spread of wing and many
+reaching an even foot across.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"></a>[211]</span></p>
+
+<p>The hawk-moths that came to our table were all different,
+all beautiful; one a study in pale yellow; another variegated
+green with blended purples and red (<i>Argeus labruscae</i>) on
+the hinder wings. This one too bore on its eyes the long shaft
+of a pollen stalk from some night flowering orchid.</p>
+
+<p>Then a moth would come, recalling somewhat the Promethea
+and Polyphemus of our childhood’s collecting, but
+with great transparent mirrors in the centre of the wings
+(<i>Attacus [Hesperia] erycina</i>); next, two as different as possible
+but which we learned later were sexes of the same species
+(<i>Dirphia tarquinia</i>)—the female, large, plain brown with a
+forked streak of light across the fore-wings: her mate a full
+third smaller with rosy hind-wings and fore-wings frosted
+white, save for two conspicuous circles at the fork of his white
+lightning.</p>
+
+<p>On the third evening there were fewer moths, but many
+more beetles and grasshopper-like insects. Green was the
+predominating color among the moths this evening—from
+palest yellow-green to darkest bottle-green. In some the
+green had a border sending ray-like lines across all four wings.
+Yellow and white were the colors almost always present in
+combination with the green, the yellow being usually confined
+to the hinder wings. A stain of gold was sometimes
+laid over the green, and in one beauty the green seemed to
+have been spattered at hazard over a milky-white surface.
+This proved to be a female of a species known only from a
+single male (<i>Racheolopha nivetacta</i>) the female proving to
+be twice as large as her mate.</p>
+
+<p>Instead of burying the insects in envelopes or mounting
+them in the orthodox way with the fore-wings raised unnaturally
+until the hind edge is at right angles to the body, we
+merely supported the wings, and allowed them to dry in the
+natural position. By doing this we usually lost sight of part
+of the hinder wing, but we gained the true relation of the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"></a>[212]</span>
+spots and patterns on the fore-wings to those on the thorax
+and the result was in many instances surprising. For example,
+when spread, the fore-wings of one tiny moth (<i>Pronola
+fraterna</i>) showed two meaningless black spots forming
+each one-third of a circle. When closed naturally, these
+united with the black abdomen to form a perfect black circle
+stamped upon a mat of velvety cream color.</p>
+
+<p>All words are inadequate to describe these exquisite creatures;
+one with the lightning flash of gold across its cloudy
+background; another, enscribed with Chinese hieroglyphics;
+a third of lavender, yellow and russet mosaics set about large
+transparent windows of opalescent blue.<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> One of the most
+exquisite was a little moth (<i>Chrysocestis fimbriaria</i>) spreading
+less than an inch, with wings of iridescent mother-of-pearl
+rimmed with dull golden, on which was set a score of embossed
+beads of the most brilliant gilt, flashing as no gem ever flashed.</p>
+
+<p>If one could spend a season here studying the motions alone
+of these insects, it would well repay him. One moth, iridescent
+with a broad border of black (<i>Eudioptis hyalinata</i>),
+curled the abdomen straight up into the air, and separated its
+extremity into a wide-spread tuft of hairs. These radiated
+like the tentacles of a sea anemone, and when the whole was
+waved about, it looked like some strange crawling caterpillar,
+holding its head high above the prostrate wings of the moth.</p>
+
+<p>The last evening, as if to make our departure still harder,
+the insects increased in number. Walking sticks five and
+six inches in length skimmed through the air, their bodies,
+legs and wings dark in color and ornamented with irregular
+scales and projections, until their resemblance to a jagged-barked
+twig was perfection. If this species were represented
+by thousands of individuals in its haunts, birds or four-footed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"></a>[213]</span>
+enemies would soon learn to detect even such an exact counterfeit,
+and the protective value would be lost. But in the
+tropics the infinite variety is the key-note to success in protective
+adaptation. On the table-cloth at one time would be
+perfect green leaves (katydid-like orthopters), green leaves
+with large worm-eaten defects or spottings (some of the
+mantises) and many brown, lichened leaves and twigs
+(moths and walking sticks). Even if two of the same species
+appeared at once, the chances were that one would be much
+the larger and of an entirely different shade with a distinct
+individual pattern of mimic defects.</p>
+
+<p>Big owl moths (<i>Hyperchiria liberia</i>, <i>H. nausica</i>, <i>Automeria
+cinctistriga</i> and others) alternated with tree-hoppers
+of all sizes with branched and rebranched horns rising from
+their thoraxes (<i>Hemiptycha [Umbonia] spinosa</i> and others).
+The prize of one evening was a grasshopper (<i>Pterochroya
+ocellata</i>) which came in on the sleeve of the coolie butler.
+It had alighted on the white cloth as he crossed the yard
+between the kitchen and the house. Its wide, jagged fore-wings
+met closely above the back, forming a half green, half
+brown leaf, complete even to the mid and side ribs. On the
+hind wings were what we could merely guess were either
+sexual ornaments or warning markings, visible only in flight.
+The ground color of these translucent wings was a finely
+mottled yellow and brown, while painted on the pleated surface
+were two eye-spots like those upon the feathers of a
+Peacock-pheasant, a dark velvety shaded portion with a
+delicately shaded ocellus at one edge.</p>
+
+<p>The last insect captured was a tree-hopper as big as a
+cicada, mottled and marbled on the fore-wings, and stained
+scarlet on the hinder.</p>
+
+<p>In <a href="#APPENDIX_C">Appendix C, pages 397, 398</a>, I have added a list of a
+few of the moths and Orthoptera collected on the dining
+table at Hoorie, which have been identified.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a>[214]</span></p>
+
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.<br>
+<span class="smaller">THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS WITH INDIANS AND CANOE.</span></h3>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>The most interesting observation we made on the launch
+trip from Hoorie Creek down the Barama River, was of
+a flocking of more than two hundred big green Cassiques<span class="bird"><a href="#bird150">150</a></span>
+the birds of the liquid cow-bell notes, which passed low overhead
+with a roar of cackling voices, and a loud whistling of
+wings, bound for some safe roosting place—still another
+species to exhibit this common roosting habit.</p>
+
+<p>We found Farnum’s deserted, the family having gone
+down to Georgetown, so we took possession of the empty
+house; swinging our hammocks on the porch and watching
+the sun sink over the river, with the dark forest beyond,
+growing ever darker. As we had been told that there were
+no mosquitoes, we had not hung our hammock nets, and the
+droning hum of these miserable pests kept us awake for hours.
+From across the river came the discontinuous, labored puffs
+of an overloaded freight train pulling up a grade. Now
+and then the wheels would slip and four or five chugs would
+come in quick succession. One could imagine the heavy
+trail of smoke and sparks, the shining rails and the long
+line of heavy, slowly moving cars—then the sound ceased,
+and far down the river another frog took up the chugging.
+Now and then the voice of a red “baboon” came to our
+ears; and continually the mosquitoes “zooned” and on the
+floor below our hammocks the dog whined unceasingly as
+he scratched his bête rouge. When we opened our eyes,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"></a>[215]</span>
+lightning bugs of several candle-power flashed above us in
+the thatch of the porch, and by their light we could see big
+tarantulas dragging their prey here and there, seeming ready
+to drop with fatigue at any moment. All the sounds of the
+wilderness are lulling, save that of mosquitoes when one is
+netless. Many times that night we wished ourselves back
+in the boat.</p>
+
+<p>We had heard that there was a coast-wise way of returning
+to Georgetown; threading little-known rivers and creeks in
+a small canoe. The idea of exploring those charming little
+creeks at which all through the journey we had looked with
+longing, was fascinating to us, and we owe this realization of
+our dreams to Mrs. Wilshire, who planned the trip and gave
+it to us as a surprise. This proved to be the most wonderful
+canoe voyage which any of us had ever taken. For five days
+we were paddled, portaged, towed and pushed through a
+wonderland abounding in rarely beautiful birds, butterflies
+and orchids. We slept at night under our tiny tarpaulin, or
+invaded, and were made welcome at little isolated Indian
+missions. Our pen falters at the thought of attempting to
+give any idea of the wonders of that trip, but day by day we
+set down our impressions as best we could and here are some
+of them.</p>
+
+<p>It was almost noon on the 16th of March before we had
+our men, luggage and canoe in readiness to start. Pushing
+off we said good-by to the rest of the party; including Crandall
+and his precious cargo of Red-backed Cassiques and
+other live birds. They were to return via Morawhanna and
+the “Mazaruni” direct to Georgetown.</p>
+
+<p>We secured a little canoe, or ballyhoo, about fifteen feet
+long, with a tarpaulin stretched over the centre. In the
+bow were four Indian paddlers, two men and two boys,
+while in the stern as steersman and paddler was a splendidly
+built Carib Indian, Marciano, chief of the Hoorie woodmen.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"></a>[216]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure089" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure089.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 89. Barama River from Farnum’s House.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"></a>[217]</span></p>
+
+<p>Amidships was piled our luggage and we distributed ourselves
+over and around the clothing bags and larder boxes.
+Mr. and Mrs. Wilshire and we two composed the list of
+passengers, and the unceasing pleasure of those five days
+was a good test of mutual congeniality and adaptability to
+“bush-travel.”</p>
+
+<p>The stroke adopted by our Indians was a peculiar one, which
+we were to hear all day and often throughout the night, for
+these men of the wilderness, short and stocky in build,
+seemed tireless, and hour after hour they would keep hard at
+work, sometimes for as much as thirty-six hours at a stretch,
+with only a brief nap or two.</p>
+
+<p>The Indian paddle rhythm set by little Pedro, the younger
+boy in the bow, accentuated every other stroke, the tempo of
+the strokes becoming more and more rapid, until, when further
+speed was impossible, one stroke was suddenly omitted, and
+the gap thus formed marked the new slow tempo, which in
+turn, in the course of fifteen to twenty strokes of the paddle,
+would work up to a climax and the former rhythm begin
+again. All kept perfect time, the new change not being
+inaugurated on any exact stroke, but the others seeming to
+know instinctively when it would come. Whether they were
+eating, talking or looking behind them it was the same, all
+changed as one man.</p>
+
+<p>Two or three hours after starting, we made a landing in
+order that the Indians could cook their breakfast, invariably
+composed of a combination of pork, dried fish, rice and
+cassava. This menu was varied only when one or more of
+the ingredients happened not to be procurable. Sometimes
+for many days the Guiana Indians worked hard upon nothing
+but cassava. The jungle was thick about the little clearing
+which they made for a fire, and word passed rapidly along
+the lines of parasol ants that manna was available in the
+form of rice and bread crumbs. A few minutes after a bit<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"></a>[218]</span>
+of food was thrown down it would mysteriously take legs to
+itself and begin to walk away, the motor power being myriads
+of these interesting insects. Big-headed soldiers patrolled
+all along the winding trail of foragers, troubling no one unless
+they were disturbed or the workers attacked. Several
+species of orchids, Brassias and others unknown to us, were
+in blossom all about us.</p>
+
+<p>On we went again, becoming more and more delighted
+with our method of travel. There was no puffing, smelly
+kerosene engine, no clatter of many tongues; and we were
+close to the water with nothing overhead between us and
+the sky, or the overhanging branches. The typical river
+birds paid little attention to our silent craft; and we were
+able to watch Giant Kingfishers,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird67">67</a></span> Guiana Cormorants,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird47">47</a></span>
+Snake-birds,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird48">48</a></span> Parrakeets and Swallows at close range.</p>
+
+<p>In sheltered places along the bank our canoe pushed
+through unbroken masses of the floating rosettes of leaves,
+known as the Shell Flower (<i>Pistia stratiodes</i>). The leaves are
+shell-shaped, thick, strongly ribbed and light velvety green
+in color, covered with a coat of short, dense hairs which
+repel the water so that when pushed beneath the surface the
+plant bobs up as dry as before. Thousands of these little
+plants become detached from their sheltered bays and are
+carried out to sea where they decay and disappear. Small
+Water Hyacinths were less common.</p>
+
+<p>The river was full from recent rains in the interior, and
+in some places for several hundred yards the surface was
+thickly covered with innumerable small yellow blossoms
+splashed with scarlet at their hearts, while every now and then
+a large purple pea-blossom would be seen. These had
+doubtless fallen from the tree-tops where the river was
+narrower and the vines and branches overhung the stream.
+Many insects were carried down afloat on the blossoms and
+now and then a great hairy tarantula would appear, with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"></a>[219]</span>
+each of his eight feet in a blossom, trying to keep his balance
+until he could reach solid ground again.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp56" id="figure090" style="max-width: 28.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure090.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 90. Scene on the Barrabarra.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Agami Herons,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird39">39</a></span> beautiful in their plumage of glossy
+green, chestnut and blue, were standing here and there in
+the shallows snatching the insects from the petals as they
+floated past.</p>
+
+<p>At four o’clock in the afternoon we left the Barramanni
+River which had averaged about two hundred feet in width,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"></a>[220]</span>
+and entered the charming little Biara, which was only about
+sixty feet from shore to shore. Here the vegetation was very
+dense, water lilies in hundreds with curious, serrated leaves
+and a profusion of the sweetest of flowers. We were paddling
+through literally a river of water-lilies. Clavillina
+blooms hung low over our faces; wild cocoa pods showed
+rich brown among the foliage. Mucka-mucka with its great
+heart-shaped leaves was everywhere, a plant which on a
+later trip was to interest us as forming the food of the Hoatzin.
+The air was filled with the sweet penetrating calls of the
+Goldbirds<span class="bird"><a href="#bird115">115</a></span> and Woodhewers and now and then the puppy-like
+yaps of Toucans.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird81">81</a></span> Pendent nests were numerous, built
+so far out over the water that we could touch them as we
+passed, thus safe from marauding monkey and opossum.</p>
+
+<p>The stream was dotted with islets, varying from a few
+inches to as many yards in circumference, crowded with
+ferns and graceful sedges, all perfectly reflected in the mirror-like
+water. One such islet of the smallest size was crowned
+with a single-petalled, white calla lily, surrounded by a host
+of tiny purple orchid blossoms; a square foot of perfect
+beauty and perfume set in the ebony water. Seldom were
+we out of sight of flowering orchid, vine, bush or tree.
+Orchids were in the ascendant and our tarpaulin brushed
+against long Golden Showers, graceful shoots of Cattleyas
+and curious green Spider Orchids.</p>
+
+<p>There seems to be no autumn in this land, and death comes
+only to single leaves, while the variegated scarlet and yellow
+hues of new sprouting foliage made brilliant every bend of
+the stream. The Moriche or Eta Palm is dominant here
+and the vegetation of these lesser streams is dense and bushy,—intimate
+and delightful, rather than grand and awe-inspiring
+as along the forest rim of the Barama.</p>
+
+<p>Toucans and Ant-birds darted across the water ahead
+of us; tree-ferns stretched out their graceful fronds and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"></a>[221]</span>
+sifted their pollen down upon us. The bird songs of this
+region are not long and elaborate, but there was no dearth of
+most delightful, liquid phrases, usually loud and penetrating.
+Six songs, all wholly unlike one another, reached us that day,
+all unknown, mysterious. We steered close to the bank and
+picked a wild cocoa pod but found it unripe and the beans
+had only a raw aroma. Two long-snouted weevils crawled
+from the heart of the pod, one of the myriad hidden forms
+of life of this wonderland.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure091" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure091.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 91. Wake of a Manatee swimming up River.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Now and then we passed a little open grassy savanna
+where the water was no longer brown, but a clear black from
+the steeping of the decaying vegetation.</p>
+
+<p>In many places the water leaves showed where manatees
+had been browsing, and occasionally we caught sight of the
+huge ungainly creatures, as they swam slowly up stream or
+nosed the vegetation along the bank.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a>[222]</span></p>
+
+<p>All this and much else we passed in an hour, and at five
+o’clock entered a third stream—the Barrabarra. The whole
+country hereabouts is swampy, so when at dark we stopped
+for our evening meal we did not land but rested quietly
+among the lily pads. The Indians ate, as they did everything
+else, silently, with only now and then some low guttural
+ejaculation.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp71" id="figure092" style="max-width: 29.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure092.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 92. Manatee browsing close to the Bank.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>We flashed our powerful electric light upon the lily pads
+and found that the water was full of active life. Scores of
+little fishes were resting motionless in the thin film of water
+covering the lily leaves, some with the basal half of the body
+and two lines up and down from the eyes, black. Marciano<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"></a>[223]</span>
+called them <i>Salaver</i>. In addition to other very slender fish,
+there were numbers of little fresh-water prawns shooting
+about among the maze of fanwort beneath the pads. The
+glint of strange shapes came to us—tiny Cyclops and others
+which the human eye was powerless to name without a
+microscope. We sat in the darkness listening to the sounds
+of the swampy jungle. Not a mosquito hummed, and the
+frogs eclipsed all other, lesser noises, calling in basso and
+treble, with tinkling bells and a clear ringing chime like the
+æolian singing of a telegraph wire.</p>
+
+<p>Marciano climbed back to his seat in the stern, gave an
+order and the paddles pushed sluggishly through the pads,
+carrying fear and tumult to thousands of little aquatic lives.
+The next four hours we shall never forget as long as we live.
+On and on we went through the pitchy darkness, guided
+solely by the light of the little bow lantern. The bush ropes
+ahead stood out in sharp silhouette like giant serpents coiled
+in mid-air across our path. The night seemed to press
+in on our tiny atom of life. The shadows of the waving
+arms of the paddlers were thrown on the foliage behind
+the boat, looking like some huge spider-like thing forever
+following it. The sheets and drops of water thrown up by
+the Indians gleamed like molten silver.</p>
+
+<p>The open savannas increased in size and extended farther on
+each side than the shaft of electric light could carry. Great
+tufts of pampas grass towered high above our heads, drooping
+gracefully outward in all directions. The channel narrowed
+and the lily blossoms increased until the water was thickly
+studded with them. Their odor hung heavy on the air and
+when one of the blossoms itself was smelled, the perfume was
+as sweet and as overpowering as chloroform. During the
+day they had been all but odorless. For miles we pushed
+through the tangle of water plants; in places the men having
+to drag and push the boat over the reeds and grasses, crushing
+scores of spider lilies with the keel. This is the back-water
+divide between the rivers which flow northward into the
+Waini and those which flow to the south. During the dry
+season this route becomes impassable.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"></a>[224]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure093" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure093.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 93. Manatee taking in Air and about to dive.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"></a>[225]</span></p>
+
+<p>Later we came to open pond-like spaces and here we found
+another species of water lily with a smaller flower and a
+smooth-edged leaf with maroon colored under side. Owls,
+large moths and bats occasionally flitted across the field of
+light.</p>
+
+<p>It was half-past ten at night when Marciano told us that
+we were turning into the Morooka River. We were to follow
+this river down to the very sea, but here it was barely distinguishable
+as a narrow channel through the grass and reeds.
+Another hour passed and several dark forms loomed up in
+the dim light of our lantern, and when we reached them we
+found that they were boats tied to a rough sort of landing.</p>
+
+<p>We climbed out and stumbled sleepily about, getting the
+cramped feeling out of our bodies. Then when the Indians
+had tied up the boat and slung our hammock bags over their
+backs, we followed them up the long avenue of lofty cocoanut
+palms which stretched down to the water’s edge. We felt
+our way slowly in the darkness, walking stiffly and uncertainly
+after the cramped position in which we had been
+compelled to sit for so many hours.</p>
+
+<p>At last Marciano held high his lantern and we saw towering
+before us a huge white cross. Instinctively we all paused
+reverently. Whatever one’s faith may be, it is impossible to
+come thus upon the symbol of a great and ancient church,
+standing in the midst of a vast and primeval wilderness,
+without a feeling of awe and reverence. There in the teeming
+ceaseless life of the wilderness was the mystery of
+creation: and there stood the white cross, a symbol of man’s
+attempt to solve the tremendous problem of creation and
+immortality.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"></a>[226]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure094" style="max-width: 25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure094.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 94. A Vista of the Biara.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The light revealed a crude little church with an adjoining
+building standing behind the cross. To this other building
+the Indians led us. We knocked gently, then harder, then
+pounded. No response! Half a dozen dogs gathered and
+howled mournfully. At last finding a side door ajar, we
+entered a spacious room, part dining-room, part school-room,
+with a loom and a half-finished Indian hammock in one corner.
+We called and shouted, we pounded on the floor and
+walls, and at last from the distance—upstairs—came an
+answering roar. Down to us came the jolliest priest we ever
+hope to meet. Two strange men and women had invaded
+his castle at midnight, routing him out of well-earned rest,
+and yet his welcome was as warm as though we were expected<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"></a>[227]</span>
+friends. Our jovial host furnished us with lights, and gave
+us permission to sling our hammocks from the rafters of the
+great school-room. About one o’clock in the morning we
+rolled into our swinging couches completely tired out. But
+sleep was not to be had at once. An ominous gritting squeak
+was heard, then another, and our faces were softly fanned by
+invisible wings. “Vampires!” came the exclamation from
+the furthermost hammock. “Never mind them,” answered
+a sleepy voice from Mr. Wilshire’s hammock; “doctors say
+bleeding is healthful!” The scientist echoed his sentiments
+but in vain. We had to dive down into the clothing bags and
+pull out the hammock nets. Now these articles are somewhat
+difficult to adjust under the best of conditions and this
+night they were perversity itself.</p>
+
+<p>We found that in the packing at Hoorie, the nets had
+become mixed and two were of an unknown pattern, with
+apparently no entrance hole except at the ends. A hammock
+net is shaped like a buttoned up coat with the hammock
+running through the sleeve portions. It is an acrobatic feat
+not soon to be forgotten, when one is dead tired and in the
+dark, and has to enter his net by climbing up to the end of
+the hammock rope and sliding down through a small, long
+shute of netting! It was two in the morning before we were
+settled, and as we finally dropped asleep a score of fierce
+little demon faces were squeaking and gibbering at us.</p>
+
+<p>At six o’clock the following morning we were awakened
+by a dozen little naked Indian boys flitting silently about,
+peering at us like tiny copper elves, or like human incarnations
+of the bats which had hovered about us during the night.
+Going outdoors in the dusk we heard a perfect medley of
+bird notes, Wrens, Thrushes, Tanagers, Seedeaters, all giving
+voice at once, while from the farther end of the cocoanut walk
+came a chorus from a colony of Yellow-backed Cassiques.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird151">151</a></span>
+We saw the mission cat teasing something and took from her<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a>[228]</span>
+a tiny oppossum with fur of richest brown, and no larger
+than a mouse. The little creature was unhurt, but played
+’possum until it recovered from its fear when it made itself at
+home in a small suitcase.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure095" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure095.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 95. Father Gillett and his Indian Boys</span>.</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>When our jolly priest appeared to wish us good-morning,
+the little Indian lads bowed their bronze figures reverently and
+kissed his hand. Some of them busied themselves weaving
+a hammock, while others set the table and later served us at
+breakfast. Our priest was like the genial monk of a mediæval
+story. He was delightful with his tribe of small Indian
+boys, ordering them about in a great voice but with his eyes
+beaming with affection for them. “Man alive!” he would
+shout, “bring the finger-bowls!” And to our amazement,
+the wee naked valet not only knew what finger-bowls were,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"></a>[229]</span>
+but actually produced them, passing them around the table
+with colossal dignity.</p>
+
+<p>“That man’s a linguist,” the Father added; “he speaks
+English, Spanish and several Indian dialects.”</p>
+
+<p>The good Father’s heart was overflowing with kindness
+toward every living thing. He could not even bear to see
+his cat waiting hungrily for her breakfast, but ordered his
+small butler at once to give her some milk.</p>
+
+<p>We wondered why the Father’s Indian boys had such
+straight, slim, well-proportioned figures, instead of the unwieldy
+“cassava-stomachs” so characteristic of the little
+savage Indians. With a twinkle in his eye the Father told
+us that his first step in converting the small Indian lad to
+Christianity was a huge dose of castor oil; then regular hours
+and regular meals of nourishing food, instead of allowing
+them to munch cassava all day. Then one might proceed
+by teaching them the doctrine, and always a useful trade,
+while after that was achieved there was plenty of time for a
+more literary education, if the individual warranted it. He
+had reason to be proud of his method, for in all our travels
+we never met a missionary whose works “spoke louder”
+than those of Father Gillett; for the most successful and
+worthy Indians in the colony had been trained by him.
+Some of them had become excellent engineers, others priests
+and still others had learned good trades.</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast the Father took us through the chapel,
+followed by his dusky little tribe, all crossing themselves
+piously before the altar. He showed us with pride the
+decorations of the altar and the ceiling, all the work of himself
+and his little Indians. The ceiling represented the dome
+of heaven, bright blue, and dotted with a multitude of white
+stars.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"></a>[230]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure096" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure096.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 96. Tropical Luxuriance.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"></a>[231]</span></p>
+
+<p>When we called our little Pedro, the youngest of our Indian
+paddlers, to tell Marciano that we were ready, Father
+Gillett’s eyes filled with tears and he said, “Is your name
+Pedro? I lost a lovely Pedro. He died of fever last Easter.
+I did not know I could miss him so much. He used to talk
+to me. He was not like other Indian boys. He loved to
+talk.” Then turning to us he added simply, “It is a lonely
+life sometimes, you know.”</p>
+
+<p>We were told that white women had never before passed
+through that part of British Guiana. So unexpectedly did
+we arrive at midnight, and so early did we depart next morning
+that perhaps our visit seems as unreal to the good Father
+as it sometimes does to us—like a very vivid dream which we
+can never forget. He loaded us with gifts of cocoanuts and
+fruit and in the fresh coolness of early morning we again set
+forth on our journey.</p>
+
+<p>Just as we were paddling away, the Father ordered all his
+small boys into the water for their regular morning swim.
+Head first they went, splashing about as gayly as a school
+of strange copper-colored fish.</p>
+
+<p>We found as we went on that the Marooka changed
+rapidly in character. It was no wider but the water lilies
+and pampas grass disappeared and a softer, finer grass
+covered the marsh, dotted with a host of purple and yellow
+flowers rising from some aquatic plant. Isolated trees became
+more numerous, and great Woodpeckers, resembling
+our splendid Ivory-bills, looped here and there. Swallow-tailed
+Kites<span class="bird"><a href="#bird58">58</a></span> dipped and soared and Kiskadees<span class="bird"><a href="#bird101">101</a></span> shrieked
+near the occasional huts of the Indians.</p>
+
+<p>At noon we lunched on erbswurst and jam at a Protestant
+Mission—Warramuri—where a small colony of Red-backed
+Cassiques were established. A school of about fifty
+Indian children were studying and reciting at the top of
+their lungs.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"></a>[232]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure097" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure097.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 97. Capybara on the Bank of a Stream.</span> (Photo by Bingham.)</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"></a>[233]</span></p>
+
+<p>We left in an hour and from here on the Marooka widened
+and consequently lost somewhat in interest. The low elevation
+on which the English Mission is built is composed
+wholly of fine white sand, and beyond this mangroves began
+to appear and the foliage became less diversified.</p>
+
+<p>We landed for an hour at a small cocoanut plantation and
+found a most ingenious method of improving time and space
+until the main crops should yield. Rice was planted in long
+narrow trenches which are flooded twice a day. Between
+these trenches the young cocoanut palms are placed, and in
+the spaces separating the palms, cassava and coffee are
+grown, while between them in turn and around the edge of
+the trenches were plantain and tania. The catch crops are
+thus made to pay for the price of the land and labor. Land—virgin
+forest—can be empoldered and ditched for $35
+an acre. The first year’s two rice crops will repay this and
+continue to do so for five years, when the cocoanuts will yield
+a regular income for fifty or sixty years. This, at least, is the
+calculation of the agriculturist.</p>
+
+<p>Deer, peccaries and capybara are found on this little
+clearing, and we saw several of the latter animals running
+about among the underbrush on the bank. Mealy Amazon
+Parrots<span class="bird"><a href="#bird63">63</a></span> were nesting in an inaccessible stub. Ant-birds
+of several species were by far the most abundant birds.
+Everywhere the undergrowth was flaming with sharp-pointed
+scarlet blossoms on long stalks which a native called Wild
+Plantains.</p>
+
+<p>Below the plantation, mangroves composed the only vegetation
+visible along the banks of the river, and before long
+our canoe began to rise and fall with the swell of the sea.
+For days the smell of the damp tropical marshes had filled
+the air, and now we sniffed eagerly at the invigorating salt
+breeze. We lowered the tarpaulin, tied everything fast and
+prepared bailers under the direction of Marciano.</p>
+
+<p>At last, rounding a curve of the river we came in sight
+of the sea—a vast stretch of turbulent brown water. A<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a>[234]</span>
+Cocoi Heron<span class="bird"><a href="#bird31">31</a></span> and an American Egret<span class="bird"><a href="#bird32">32</a></span> flew away with protesting
+croaks, and we began to pitch and toss as we turned
+south, beyond the outermost sprawling mangrove roots.</p>
+
+<p>We had been warned on no account to make this part of
+the trip with other than full-blooded Indian paddlers, and
+when we saw the need for steady, skilful work, we were indeed
+glad that we had Marciano and his good crew. The
+waves were too muddy to break, but they rolled high over
+the low rail of our canoe and we were soon soaked through
+and had to bail steadily to keep the frail craft from filling.
+In the midst of all the excitement three splendid Flamingos<span class="bird"><a href="#bird42">42</a></span>
+flew overhead, one close behind the other, necks and legs
+extended to the full. We watched them until our eyes ached,
+and then a dash of several quarts of salt, muddy water in our
+faces, brought us suddenly back to grim reality. After we
+had paddled three or four miles, we entered the broad mouth
+of the Pomeroon, turned close in along shore and finding a
+sheltered bight, waited for the turning of the tide and to
+give our Indians a much-needed rest. The heavily laden
+canoe had given them a hard paddle against wind and tide,
+and we were to travel onward throughout all the night.</p>
+
+<p>As dusk settled down a Frigate-bird<span class="bird"><a href="#bird49">49</a></span> swooped past, followed
+by a large flock of several hundred Boat-billed Herons<span class="bird"><a href="#bird37">37</a></span>
+croaking like their relatives the Night Herons, and on their
+way doubtless from some roosting place to their nocturnal
+feeding grounds; for as they reached the water they scattered,
+some going up the river, others along the shore.</p>
+
+<p>From the east, straight across the whole width of the
+Pomeroon came another great flocking, a host of Mealy
+Amazon Parrots<span class="bird"><a href="#bird63">63</a></span> flying as usual two and two close together—by
+hundreds and by thousands. They turned
+south along our bank and flew inland, and were joined,
+almost over the spot where our canoe was moored, by
+another great multitude of their kind, coming steadily down<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"></a>[235]</span>
+the coast. At the very lowest estimate there were eight or
+ten thousand parrots. Once and only once we saw a solitary
+individual unaccompanied by a mate. While still in
+view he attempted to attach himself to a pair of birds, whereupon
+both dashed at the unfortunate intruder and drove
+him headlong out of sight below the level of the branches.
+It is indeed a serious thing to lose one’s mate if one is a
+parrot! To be a widow or a widower is to be an outcast.</p>
+
+<p>At ten minutes past six the parrots vanished in the dusk
+and true to its name a “six o’clock bee,” a species of large
+cicada, sent out its shrill whistle from the mangrove to
+which our canoe was tied. Here for the first time since
+we left Farnum’s we encountered mosquitoes and sand flies,
+but oil of tar did much to discourage them. It is a curious
+fact that although the prevailing wind blows in the direction
+from which we had come, yet these troublesome insects are
+said never to pass beyond the line of the Pomeroon’s mouth.</p>
+
+<p>After an hour of paddling we stopped for a supply of
+water at a tiny Portuguese store built on piles, and going by
+the name of Poc-a-poo. It was a weird little place with
+rows of tiny shelves on which were bottles of lemon soda
+which was remarkably good, and an assortment of ribbons,
+knives and paddles for trade with the Indians. We purchased
+some well-made Carib Indian baskets and, stumbling
+over a caged Guan<span class="bird"><a href="#bird6">6</a></span> or Maroodie as they called it,
+ordered it sent to Georgetown, where it appeared the following
+week and is now a contented inmate of the New
+York Zoölogical Park.</p>
+
+<p>At nine o’clock we started on our all-night paddle up the
+Pomeroon. Like most tropical nights near the sea the air
+was chilly. We rolled up in our blankets, and anointed our
+faces with the tar oil. The scientist chose as his night’s
+couch one of the long sloping side seats. The slope was
+only a fraction of a degree, but gravity and drowsiness would
+invariably cause the downfall of the occupant of the seat,
+much to the disturbance of the canoe’s equilibrium.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"></a>[236]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure098" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure098.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 98. South American Thatched House, and Nests of
+Green Cassiques.</span> (Photo by Bingham.)</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"></a>[237]</span></p>
+
+<p>As we lay and listened to the strange rhythm of the paddles,
+and watched the brown current swash past the side of
+the boat, we thought of all the exciting scenes this river and
+this coast had witnessed:—the ill-fated search for El Dorado
+by Sir Walter Raleigh; then the capture and recapture of the
+colony no less than three times by Dutch and British. Later
+came a period of great prosperity when hundreds of sugar
+plantations yielded great profits to their owners and the social
+life was as gay as that of our old Virginia. Then followed the
+ruin of the sugar industry, bands of run-away slaves taking
+to the wilderness; and now to-day, the chimneys of the old
+mills are often the only marks of former civilization which
+the jungle has not obliterated.</p>
+
+<p>We skirted the mangroves for hours and saw nothing but
+an endless succession of those weird stilted plants, while
+scores of four-eyed fish skipped and slithered over the mud,
+or dashed across our bow, attracted by the glow of our lantern.
+In the electric light they looked pale and ghostly
+against the black mud.</p>
+
+<p>At midnight we passed a light which showed the location
+of Marlborough Police Station. Two hours later we heard
+weird music from a tom-tom and a four-toned fife or flute.
+Crude as it was, it had a wild melody and the syncopated,
+or “rag,” time was perfect. We could see the hut near the
+water and hear the shouts of the dancers as we passed down
+the centre of the river. We were hailed by a canoe of half-drunken
+negroes who put off and wished to accompany us
+up the river. Marciano gave a low command and one of
+the Indians muffled the lantern; then all swung together in
+a new rhythm—the full-speed paddle-rhythm of the Caribs—and
+we fairly flew through the water. After every five
+minutes spurt our crew rested for a few seconds to locate our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a>[238]</span>
+unwelcome pursuers. At first they cursed us and paddled
+furiously, but their tipsy efforts were no match for our lithe
+red-men and the negroes soon dropped out of sight and
+hearing.</p>
+
+<p>There was no moon but throughout all the night whenever
+we awoke, the southern cross gleamed brilliantly down
+at us, and almost in the zenith Orion stood ever poised in his
+gigantic stride. As usual frogs and toads furnished most
+of the nocturnal music, and we spent an hour or more in
+classifying the various utterances. Among them was the
+Telegraph Toad who spoke in a regular make-and-break
+Morse code, sending his wireless messages to his mate.
+Another, heard more rarely, was what we called the Wing-beat
+Frog. This species gave out a muffled throbbing roar
+like the hurried wing-beats of a Swan in full flight. It would
+last for five seconds, to be answered instantly by another
+across the river.</p>
+
+<p>From the wonderland of the narrow Biara, we had come
+out upon the boundless expanse of the ocean, passing thence
+to this splendid river a half mile across. But we had far
+from finished the experiences and variety of this ever-to-be
+remembered trip.</p>
+
+<p>At daybreak we pushed through a tangled mass of lilies
+and water hyacinths into a tiny caño or creek, and in a
+soft rain, while the tired Indians slept beneath protecting
+palm leaves, we cooked erbswurst and cocoa. The morning
+chorus was infinitely sweet, from flocks of invisible songsters,
+a trembling descending chord of three notes, rising
+at the end in a plaintive, questioning way.</p>
+
+<p>At eight o’clock we went on again, the Indians apparently
+perfectly rested after their two hours’ sleep. The Pomeroon
+narrowed to about a hundred yards, mangroves disappeared
+and mucka-mucka with its oblong, pineapple-like fruit,
+took their place. Flowers were abundant,—white convolvulus;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"></a>[239]</span>
+wild sorrel, pink with deep carollas; large yellow blossoms
+with scarlet hearts, and many other varieties. Four-eyed
+fish were still common and Great Rufous Cuckoos,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird77">77</a></span>
+Lesser Kiskadees<span class="bird"><a href="#bird103">103</a></span> and Swallow-tailed Kites<span class="bird"><a href="#bird58">58</a></span> were building
+nests.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure099" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure099.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 99. Miles of Lilies.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>At Pickersgill Police Station we stopped for lunch. These
+posts are the sole representatives of law and order in the
+wilderness, and here the semi-military organization of negro
+police have their quarters. Most of them are men of unusually
+large size, and in disposition they are pleasant and
+obliging. They never failed to do their best to make us comfortable.
+The duty of these men is varied. Besides being
+responsible for the good conduct of the inhabitants of their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240"></a>[240]</span>
+districts, they keep account of shipments and all passing
+boats and passengers, and stand ready to run down, or rather
+paddle down, fugitives from justice. At each post are little
+rooms reserved for travellers, and here any strangers with
+proper credentials are at liberty to swing their hammocks and
+make themselves at home. The sergeant had just trapped
+a half dozen pretty blue and yellow Violet Euphonia Tanagers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird140">140</a></span>
+in a mango tree near the station. The usual colony
+of Yellow-backed Cassiques<span class="bird"><a href="#bird151">151</a></span> was deserted at the time of
+our visit, but had been occupied twice during the last year.
+Lying half in the water in front of the house was an anaconda
+fifteen feet long which had just been shot. We purchased
+thirty bananas for fourpence, and with fried bananas and
+bacon, the unfailing and never cloying erbswurst, jam,
+educator crackers and lime squash, we had a meal fit for the
+gods.</p>
+
+<p>At this point we left the Pomeroon and turned up the
+Harlipiaka for two hours, then into the last real river of our
+trip, the Tapakuma. This river was only about seventy-five
+feet wide and with vegetation neither grand nor very luxuriant,
+principally eta palms and mucka-mucka. Wild cocoa
+and clavillina blossoms were everywhere and numerous Lesser
+Kiskadees<span class="bird"><a href="#bird103">103</a></span> were building. Many small, deserted estates
+appeared as the river grew narrower, and morpho butterflies
+and Silver-beak Tanagers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird146">146</a></span> haunted the half-overgrown
+ruins. Catching sight of a snake on an overhanging branch,
+we persuaded Marciano to steer close to it, but as we reached
+out to seize it, our Indian’s fears overcame him and he swung
+out quickly, the serpent making its escape into the water.
+It was a harmless species about five feet long, and yellow-brown
+in color. With the exception of the dead anaconda,
+it was the only snake we had seen on our trip. When we
+commented on this, Marciano relieved his feelings in two
+words, “Me glad!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241"></a>[241]</span></p>
+
+<p>It was dead high tide, although the water was fresh—backed
+up by the salt tide farther down. The surface
+seemed to be covered with rubbish, and at first glance it
+looked as unsavoury as the water in a New York ferry slip!
+But when we examined it, the flotsam proved to be composed
+of a host of various nuts and seeds, many of which were
+beginning to send out roots and leaflets. They were of all
+shapes and sizes—from large flat disk-like pods and round
+vegetable-ivory nuts, to smaller ones covered with corrugated
+husks, fluted or polished like metal.</p>
+
+<p>The river became still more narrow, and twisted and turned
+to every point of the compass. Flowers were abundant and
+we noted at least twenty species with large and conspicuous
+blooms. A blue-bell blossom was especially characteristic
+of the Tapakuma, growing up from the water six to thirty
+inches. There were few lilies and the predominating tree
+was one with sensitive foliage, which went to sleep in the
+late afternoon. Several species of orchids in full flower were
+common, and from one branch we pulled into the canoe a
+string of a dozen plants of a most fragrant white orchid—<i>Epidendrum
+nocturnum</i>. The whole region was very different
+from that of the Biara but no less interesting.</p>
+
+<p>Just before sunset we came to the fairyland of Tapakuma
+Lake. We had zigzagged through many miles of tortuous
+channels, with copper-colored Indian hunters passing us now
+and then, silently in their small canoes. At last we came
+to a portage—a gentle slope up which our canoe was
+dragged, over the divide and into the great grassy expanse
+of water savanna, in the centre of which is the dark deep
+lake.</p>
+
+<p>We walked a few yards into the woods to see some “falls”
+which turned out to be only a moderately foamy rapid, and
+on the way we disturbed a large troop of monkeys which
+limbed off slowly through the branches; and then hurried<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242"></a>[242]</span>
+back to our boat, for we were still far from Anna Regina,
+where we planned to spend the night.</p>
+
+<p>On and on we went, the darkness settling quickly down.
+A new Castanet Frog raised its voice. This was really
+remarkable—a syncopated Oriental rhythm, clicking musically,
+and held by one frog for only a minute or two when
+another instantly took up the little tune. This shifting of
+place, the music sounding first here, then farther on, made
+it seem as if some invisible dancer were swiftly whirling over
+the reeds and tules. One could hear the clicking of the castanets
+and the tinkling of anklets, and the thought was made
+more vivid as a bejewelled coolie woman passed us in a long
+narrow dug-out, paddled swiftly by her husband.</p>
+
+<p>The water was very high and a wide new channel among the
+grasses so confused Marciano that we paddled for an hour
+before we realized that we were lost. We changed direction
+and guided ourselves by the stars, passing some dense grass
+through which we had to push laboriously. At last Marciano
+sent a clear, penetrating call through the night and the coolie
+answered, far ahead and to the left. We called twice after
+that and then came into a canal, and soon were alongside
+two canoes blocked by a lock. We would have as soon expected
+to find a motor car here in the wilderness as a canal
+lock, but nevertheless there <i>was</i> a canal lock with no one to
+operate it. By our combined efforts we opened it, passed
+through and found ourselves surrounded by miles of sugar-cane
+fields. We had entered the back door, as it were, of the
+great sugar plantation of Anna Regina, one of the few which
+are still in operation. We were on the home stretch and the
+Indian boys towed us the remaining distance, running at full
+speed, tumbling head over heels into the water; and forgetting
+for once their usual Indian stolidness, they giggled and chattered
+as if they were out for a lark, instead of having paddled a
+heavily laden canoe on thirty-six hour stretches!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243"></a>[243]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure100" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure100.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 100. The Road to Suddie.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>At midnight we reached the end of the canal, and a hundred
+yards up a road we found the Anna Regina police station.
+The guard turned out, cleared away the judge’s bench and
+witness box in the courtroom and laid blankets for us on the
+benches, as there were no rafters for our hammock ropes.
+Our Indians would not come near the dreaded prison house,
+but left our baggage at the entrance. They said good-by as
+they were to start back at once. We had grown to have a
+real affection for these simple men and boys, and found them
+the best of travelling companions, silent, courteous and
+wonderful workers. May the time come when Marciano
+will again pilot us through that beautiful region to which no
+pen or camera can do the slightest justice!</p>
+
+<p>The following morning after a walk through the neighboring
+coolie village of Henrietta, where we purchased some
+Yellow-bellied Callistes<span class="bird"><a href="#bird142">142</a></span> and other birds, we secured a
+carriage, with a horse and a mule as motor power, and drove
+to Suddie, taking the steamer thence down the Essequibo
+River to Georgetown.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244"></a>[244]</span></p>
+
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.<br>
+<span class="smaller">THE WATER TRAIL FROM GEORGETOWN TO AREMU.</span></h3>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>We allowed ourselves only forty-eight hours in Georgetown
+to unpack our specimens and prepare for our
+second expedition into the “bush.” This time we were
+to leave the coast and strike straight inland, passing up the
+Essequibo River to Bartica, thence via the Mazaruni and
+Cuyuni to the Aremu and the Little Aremu rivers. Near
+the head-waters of this last stream was the gold mine which
+marked our journey’s end, deep within the wilderness.</p>
+
+<p>On the morning of March 23d, we left Georgetown on one
+of Sproston’s steamers en route for Bartica. A pair of Gray-breasted
+Martins<span class="bird"><a href="#bird122">122</a></span> accompanied us, and we found that they
+were nesting in an angle between two beams of the main
+deck covering. Young birds were in the nest, so the Martins
+must have accompanied the steamer on many of the alternate
+day trips between Georgetown and Bartica. Not only this
+but the river boat exchanges routes every two weeks with
+her sister steamer which is plying on the outside northwest
+route to Morawhanna, the fortnightly change from fresh to
+salt water doing away with all need for keel cleaning. So
+these birds had started their nest while the boat was making
+her sea trips. During much of the time we were on the boats
+the birds kept flying out to each side over the water in pursuit
+of insects for their brood. They sometimes went far
+ahead or out of sight a half mile to shore.</p>
+
+<p>After entering the wide estuary mouth of the Essequibo
+we passed Leguan and Hog islands, each over ten miles in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245"></a>[245]</span>
+length, while above these a succession of smaller islands
+appeared. The river is about three miles in width, fringed
+with mangroves, and we saw no life on shore save occasional
+Cocoi Herons<span class="bird"><a href="#bird31">31</a></span> feeding on the flats.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure101" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure101.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 101. Gray-breasted Martins nesting on the Steamer.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The Essequibo is the largest river in the colony and rises
+in the extreme south, somewhere in the Acarai Mountains
+near the equator, some six hundred miles inland. Like all
+the great rivers of this region it is navigable by steamers for
+only a short distance, rapids and cataracts barring the way
+about fifty miles above the mouth. The first great tributary
+is the Mazaruni, entering from the southwest and touching
+with its uttermost head-waters the very base of that
+mysterious lofty plateau, Roraima, on the borders of
+Brazil.</p>
+
+<p>We landed at the very apex of the point of land between
+the Essequibo and Mazaruni rivers,—the village of Bartica
+or Bartica Grove. It is a most dilapidated place, half in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246"></a>[246]</span>
+ruins, a single street of miserable houses filled with blacks
+and coolies.</p>
+
+<p>We were invited to spend the night at the house of an
+Englishman, Mr. Withers, enjoying again the unfailing
+hospitality of the wilderness. In a launch we proceeded
+three miles up the Mazaruni, and climbing a steep hill,
+denuded of its forest, we turned and revelled in the magnificent
+view. A small, heavily-wooded island in the foreground
+broke the surface of the shining waters, and beyond, the two
+mighty rivers rolled ceaselessly, joining their floods with
+hardly a ripple. Directly across, on the opposite shore of
+the Mazaruni, the picturesque white buildings of the penal
+colony could be seen, looking more like the hotels and cottages
+of some watering place than like prisons. If one must be
+imprisoned for life there are few places one would prefer
+to this!</p>
+
+<p>An American company had obtained a concession of some
+seven thousand acres for the purpose of raising sisel hemp,
+and Mr. Withers was in charge of this important undertaking.
+His home, on the crest of the hill, overlooked the
+surrounding rolling country, six hundred acres of which had
+already been cleared during the preceding nine months and
+planted in the valuable fibre plant. Here again we found a
+most ingenious system of catch crops, peanuts, castor beans
+and corn, surrounding but not interfering with the slower
+growing sisel. Their success was yet to be proven.</p>
+
+<p>A careful study of the effect on animal and plant life of
+this clearing away of the forest would yield much of interest.
+Many sloths with young were caught when the trees were
+being felled, and Goldbirds, Woodhewers, Parrots and other
+forest birds had now retired some distance from the clearing.
+The antlers of two deer shot here were simple spikes. Insects
+of all kinds had greatly increased, and caterpillars of strange
+shapes and colors were legion in number and doing their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247"></a>[247]</span>
+best to undo the labor of the agriculturists. Insect-eating
+birds of certain types had increased enormously, and Gray-breasted
+Martins,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird122">122</a></span> Barn<span class="bird"><a href="#bird121">121</a></span> and Variegated<span class="bird"><a href="#bird119">119</a></span> Swallows filled
+the air, while Kiskadee Tyrants of three species,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird101">101</a></span>, <span class="bird"><a href="#bird103">103</a></span>, <span class="bird"><a href="#bird104">104</a></span>
+other Flycatchers, House Wrens,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird124">124</a></span> Seedeaters, Hummingbirds
+and Honey Creepers were abundant, swooping over the open
+fields, snatching insects from the air, or leaves, or ground,
+according to the method of hunting of each species. The
+Honey Creepers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird136a">136a</a></span> were continually getting into trouble here
+as elsewhere in the darkened upper roof space of the house,
+and many had to be caught and liberated daily.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp93" id="figure102" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure102.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 102. Coolies and their Wives fishing in the Essequibo.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Small snakes and toads are also said to have increased, due
+doubtless to the increase of insect food, but the abundance
+of agoutis or acouris was unfortunately only too evidently
+due to the supply of succulent vegetables.</p>
+
+<p>This evening the regular afternoon wind continued until<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248"></a>[248]</span>
+late, and it was too cool to walk about without a coat. The
+wind sounded anything but tropical, howling around the
+eaves of the house like a northern blizzard. The moon rose
+about nine o’clock—a great flat-sided ball of orange,
+lighting up the pale bare fields but throwing all the jungle
+into blackest shadow. Soon the light became stronger and
+the two southern crosses paled from view, the false one
+higher up, kite like, and the <i>vera cruz</i>, low and resting on its
+side.</p>
+
+<p>“Sproston’s” is a company which controls many of the
+steamer and launch lines of the colony, and gives remarkably
+good as well as reasonable service. When the day comes
+that the tourist learns of the beauties of this country, the
+transportation lines will become of immense value. Now
+they depend principally on the many American concessions
+and other interests for freight, and upon pork-knockers and
+bovianders for passengers.</p>
+
+<p>At nine o’clock on the following morning, travelling again
+on one of Sproston’s launches, we left Mr. Withers and
+proceeded up the Mazaruni, in about an hour reaching the
+point of its confluence with the Cuyuni. This was as beautiful
+as the junction of the Essequibo and the Mazaruni which
+we had left. Turning up the Cuyuni we went on and on
+through a region of indescribable beauty. The noble river
+spreads out in a wide smooth expanse,—a tropical Hudson
+with palisades of trees. It is very shallow and when the
+water is low there is little but tide at this point. Hence
+mangroves are dominant, becoming, however, smaller and
+less numerous as we proceeded. At eleven o’clock we
+reached the beautiful falls at Lower Camaria Landing and
+went ashore to find a delicious breakfast prepared for us
+by the genial and hospitable Mr. French and served by his
+aged man-servant, who was christened <i>Swan</i>, but who was
+familiarly known throughout the colony as “French’s <i>Boy</i>.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249"></a>[249]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure103" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure103.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 103. Falls at Lower Camaria.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250"></a>[250]</span></p>
+
+<p>At Camaria a series of all but impassable rapids and
+falls occurs, and a portage of three and a half miles is necessary.
+A well-made sandy wagon trail points the way, rising
+gradually and then slowly descending again. At the top of
+the rise the sand is of the finest and whitest quality. Butterflies
+were extremely abundant along this wood road, a dozen
+splendid blue Morphos being sometimes in sight at once.</p>
+
+<p>One interesting species of butterfly (<i>Castina licus</i>) was
+very common, flying along ahead of us with short spurts
+and alighting on bare twigs, just within the shadow of the
+jungle. They were dark brownish above, tinted with dull
+orange and green and with four broad streaks of white across
+the wings. They were perfectly protected in the positions of
+rest which they chose on small bare twigs, the brown merging
+invisibly with the dark recesses of the undergrowth beyond,
+while the white markings exactly simulated a white orchid
+blossom, sprouting, as so many of them do, from a leafless
+stem. As the mule cart passed laden with our luggage, we
+seized the Graflex camera and secured the accompanying
+photograph. In spite of their protective colors and mode
+of resting, the wings of almost all had been nipped by birds,
+and we saw one fall a victim to a Flycatcher. The characteristic
+birds of this trail were Swallow-tailed Kites<span class="bird"><a href="#bird58">58</a></span> and
+Yellow-bellied Trogons,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird76">76</a></span> the former soaring overhead every
+few minutes and the latter dashing from cluster to cluster of
+berries.</p>
+
+<p>In the middle of the afternoon our walk brought us to
+Upper Camaria, where we were again on the bank of the
+Cuyuni. Here, tied to a gigantic Mora tree, a second launch
+awaited us, and from here to our second night’s stopping
+place at Matope we stopped only once, at Tiger Island, to
+take a few “pork-knockers” on board. Although there were
+only three small, hut-like houses here, there was the invariable
+colony of Yellow-backed Cassiques.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird151">151</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251"></a>[251]</span></p>
+
+<p>The tide was blocked by the succession of falls and rapids,
+and so at Upper Camaria the whole character of the vegetation
+was changed. Mangroves had vanished and in their
+place were mucka-mucka and other aquatic growths, backed
+by the solid walls of trees and vines.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp63" id="figure104" style="max-width: 26.5625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure104.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 104. A Butterfly mimicking an Orchid.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Snakebirds<span class="bird"><a href="#bird48">48</a></span> were perched in solitary state at frequent
+intervals along the banks,—silent, sinister looking, craning
+their necks out at us and either dropping quietly into the
+water and sinking from view or flapping heavily upward.
+Ordinarily their flight is very pelican-like; six or eight flaps,
+then a short scale, but when they once reach a high altitude,
+they soar most gracefully with set wings, first in a wide, slow<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252"></a>[252]</span>
+circle, then with a sudden straight rush, then a circle and so
+on, all apparently without a single wing beat. When thus high
+in air they have a most peculiar arrow-shaped appearance;
+thin sharp beak, slender neck and body, and broad, fan-shaped
+tail.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure105" style="max-width: 18.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure105.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 105. Fresh-water Flying Fish.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>While the launch was puffing slowly along we saw one
+of the most unexpected sights of the trip—a fresh-water
+flying fish <i>Carnegiella strigatus</i>. It did not leave the surface
+entirely but skimmed steadily along in a straight line
+with the tip of the deep keel of the abdomen just cutting the
+surface. It was small, not more than two inches long, and
+of the greatest interest to us at that time, as we did not then
+know that such a thing as a fresh-water flying fish existed.
+To see a silvery little form break from the mirror-like surface
+of the river and go skimming off through the air left us amazed.</p>
+
+<p>These fish were silvery in color, marked with irregular
+black markings, with long, wing like pectoral fins and a
+remarkably deep keel, like the keel of a racing yacht.</p>
+
+<p>As we went on, the walls of foliage became higher and more
+dense, stretching up, far up above our heads, until the topmost
+branches were from one hundred to one hundred and twenty-five
+feet above the water. Majestic vistas opened out ahead<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253"></a>[253]</span>
+of us, and now and then great solid banks of flowers hung like
+huge tapestries upon the foliage walls. One white flower with
+a plume-like tuft of long slender stamens, filled whole bends
+of the river with its sweet perfume and formed aërial banks
+of bloom fifty feet square. We saw here for the first time
+the Green River Ibises<span class="bird"><a href="#bird26">26</a></span> looking dull black in the sunlight.
+They were of the same size as Scarlet Ibises but with a
+shorter tail, and flapped more slowly in flight.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure106" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure106.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 106. Salt-water Flying Fish.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Just before dusk we reached the house of the government
+agent of this district, Mr. Nicholson, and were made welcome
+at his little home in the heart of the wilderness. The house
+is on a steep bluff of red clay, changing to yellow near the
+water and commanding a fine view up and down the river.
+Below, the river is smooth and shining, while a quarter of
+a mile above the house a mass of tumbling white water blocks
+further progress and marks the second portage.</p>
+
+<p>In the yard near the house one passes through a cluster of
+young fruit trees and here two small colonies of Yellow
+backed Cassiques<span class="bird"><a href="#bird151">151</a></span> had located, clustering their pendent
+nests almost within arm’s reach about two big nests of stinging<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254"></a>[254]</span>
+ants. At dusk several hundred Smooth-billed Anis<span class="bird"><a href="#bird80">80</a></span>
+dropped into a clump of bamboo and with much racket and
+squabbling settled for the night.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure107" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure107.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 107. Cuyuni River.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>This region is wholly undisturbed, the few “pork-knockers”
+and Indians who pass keeping entirely to the river. Mr.
+Nicholson told us that Capybaras (<i>Hydrochoerus capybara</i>)
+came every night and raided the vegetable garden, and we had
+good evidence of this. Pushing through the bush a short
+distance downstream at dusk, we saw a small herd of these
+creatures appear and distribute themselves over the banks.
+Some waded along the shallows, or swam out and dived, to
+come up with a mouthful of algæ. Others climbed the clay
+slope and disappeared into the jungle. They seemed like<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255"></a>[255]</span>
+reincarnations of some of the great unwieldy prehistoric
+beasts—restorations of those bones by which alone we
+know of their existence in past ages. It was too dark to
+photograph these giant rodents, but by the kindness of
+Dr. Bingham we are able to show several splendid photographs
+of Capybaras, taken in their haunts.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure108" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure108.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 108. A Herd of Eight Capybaras, Six Adult and Two Young.</span>
+Notice the Snout of a Crocodile in the Water on the Left.
+(Photo by Bingham.)</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The Indian hunter at Matope finds abundance of game
+within a mile of the house; two kinds of deer, tapir, peccary,
+and of course Curassows and Guans. Trumpeters<span class="bird"><a href="#bird25">25</a></span> are often
+heard from the house but are considered too tough for food.</p>
+
+<p>We talked, chiefly by signs, with the Arowak Indian
+hunter who had just come in with a Bush-hog or Peccary
+(<i>Dicotyles tajacu</i>). As soon as the animal is killed, the gland<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256"></a>[256]</span>
+on the lower back is cut out, a piece of skin being removed
+about four by eight inches. If this is not done immediately,
+the flesh will become musky and unfit to eat. The hunter
+was familiar with the rare White-lipped Peccary (<i>Dicotyles
+labiatus</i>), which he described as larger than the common kind
+and going in small families of two to five individuals. This
+was a dangerous animal, and more than once he had been
+treed by them, whereas the Common Peccary was timid and
+harmless except when wounded or cornered.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Nicholson had recently seen a full-grown Great
+Anteater (<i>Myrmecophaga jubata</i>) swimming the river, and
+curiously enough we later witnessed a similar performance
+where the banks were about a third of a mile apart.
+The creature was making fair headway, although drifting
+rapidly, and was completely immersed save for the elongated
+snout and head, and the upper part of the bushy tail,
+which waggled frantically with the efforts the anteater was
+making.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Nicholson promised to obtain some living Trumpeters
+for us and later kept his word by sending one to New York
+a few months after we left. There are gold diggings near
+here which were worked by the Dutch in 1625. In the earlier
+days of the English occupancy, gold smuggling was an every-day
+occurrence at Bartica, and Mr. Nicholson had to take
+extraordinary precautions to guard against it. He would
+scrape a line under the keel of a boat from stem to stern, by
+this means often discovering hidden bags of gold. Many a
+coopful of innocent looking fowls, brought down by the
+“pork-knockers,” were slain by the government inspectors
+and found to have their crops and gizzards filled with the
+precious yellow grain. Cartridges were a favorite means of
+smuggling, the powder being removed and replaced with
+gold. There is no longer any attempt at smuggling now as
+it does not pay.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257"></a>[257]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure109" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure109.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 109. Great Anteater.</span> (Photo by Sanborn.)</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258"></a>[258]</span></p>
+
+<p>Vampires (<i>Desmodus rufus</i>) are so abundant at Matope
+that every evening one of the servants collects the chair
+cushions on the veranda and packs them under an upturned
+chair. Otherwise, the dogs, bitten while sleeping on
+these cushions, would ruin them with their blood. We swung
+our hammocks on the veranda and kept one light burning,
+and although the bats squeaked shrilly throughout the night,
+none of us were bitten.</p>
+
+<p>Early next morning we packed up and set out, and in a
+few minutes a launch landed us at the foot of the falls. This
+portage was only about a hundred yards in length, bringing
+us to Perseverance Landing. Here were several tent-boats,
+most of them filled with “pork-knockers.” We stored our
+luggage in the one reserved for us and climbed into a tent
+ballyhoo with ten paddlers in addition to the bowman and
+steersman—all big, powerful, piratical looking blacks, except
+the steersman, who was an Indian. Now came the most
+exciting part of our trip, passing up the series of rapids which
+filled the whole bed of the river. It took us until noon to
+pass them. A smooth expanse of water would indicate depth
+sufficient to float a steamer. Then a bar of granite would
+appear, rising on shore into huge boulders and forming a
+series of foaming, tumbling waves across the river. In such
+a place there were numerous small islands and the width
+increased greatly, while the water everywhere was shallow,
+with channels ramifying here and there.</p>
+
+<p>As we approached one of these rapids the bowman stood
+up and the men braced themselves for the tremendous exertion.
+Starting with a slow, steady stroke, this became
+quicker and quicker as the white water was reached, then
+the bowman, using his long paddle lever-like against the
+thwart, held the ballyhoo steady, while the men drove her
+through the swirling water. The current became stronger
+and stronger, the canoe seemed to slow down, be stationary,
+even to slide back a foot or two. Then the great black backs,
+glistening with perspiration, would twist and bend in a final
+effort and the boat would shoot forward into the quiet
+eddy at the foot of the rapid, with the water swirling past
+on each side.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259"></a>[259]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure110" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure110.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 110. A Tacuba on the Cuyuni.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260"></a>[260]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp97" id="figure111" style="max-width: 40.625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure111.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 111. Rapids on the Cuyuni.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261"></a>[261]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure112" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure112.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 112. Rushing the Boat into the Rapids.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262"></a>[262]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure113" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure113.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 113. Warping the Boat through the Lower Whirlpools.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263"></a>[263]</span></p>
+
+<p>Now, at a word from the steersman, the blacks tumbled
+overboard, hastily getting out heavy rope cables, which one
+or two of the most powerful took in their teeth or tied around
+their waists and carried to some projecting rock as far ahead
+as possible. After they had fought their way up to the rock
+they tied the rope securely and now all hands took hold,
+some of the rope, others of the boat, and pushed and pulled
+her up through the boiling torrent.</p>
+
+<p>In one or two cases it was possible to zigzag up through
+the less formidable shallows. After a particularly difficult
+piece of paddling we would rest in some backwater for a few
+minutes and have time to look about us. Every snag held
+its complement of vampires which took to wing only when
+we were very close. Solitary Sandpipers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird21">21</a></span> and Parauques<span class="bird"><a href="#bird70">70</a></span>
+were abundant, the latter apparently nesting on the numerous
+little sand-bars, and swooping near the boat or swinging
+up to a bare branch where they perched lengthwise and
+watched us with half-shut eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The rocky islets were covered with the low Water Guava
+(<i>Psidium fluviatile</i>), and the rocks which are usually covered
+with shallow water or those within reach of the falls were
+studded with thousands of little starry flowers. In other
+places masses of delicate pink blossoms raised their heads
+above the shining mat of green submerged leaves which
+fairly carpeted the pools. The beds of pink, green and
+white amid the pools reminded us strongly of the many-colored
+sponges, hydroids and anemones in a tidal pool of
+the Bay of Fundy or a reef off a Florida Key. These aquatic
+flowers, far out from shore, gave forth a sweet perfume
+attracting flies, bees and even butterflies, which flitted through
+the mist, just clearing the foaming water.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_264"></a>[264]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure114" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure114.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 114. A Rest midway up the Rapids.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_265"></a>[265]</span></p>
+
+<p>Now and then small reddish-brown crocodiles were seen
+sunning themselves on the sand-bars. One, not more than
+three feet in length, paid no attention to the revolver shots
+which threw up the water close to him. The little flying
+fish became more numerous as we went on, skimming here
+and there in the smooth pools. Twice we saw one dash at
+an insect, once a large bee and the second time a butterfly,
+but they were less successful in their insect hunting than
+the Swallows—both the Banded<span class="bird"><a href="#bird118">118</a></span> and the Variegated<span class="bird"><a href="#bird119">119</a></span>—which
+swooped across our bow. Whenever we went close to
+a bank we saw multitudes of a new flower, with its graceful
+rebarbed stamens, looking like the falling lines of sparks
+from a rocket.</p>
+
+<p>We lunched to-day on a splendid outcropping of rock on
+the left bank, after chasing into the cracks some big and
+remarkably colored tarantulas, with light red bodies and
+dark legs.</p>
+
+<p>One of the most delightful surprises on this trip was the boat
+songs of the blacks. How we wished afterwards that we had
+written down the words and music at the time. One melody
+remains clear in our memory:</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="music3" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="music/music3.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption x-ebookmaker-drop"><p>[<a href="music/music3.mp3">Listen</a>] | [<a href="music/music3.mxl">MusicXML</a>]</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_266"></a>[266]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure115" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure115.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 115. The Final Struggle up to Smooth Water.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_267"></a>[267]</span></p>
+
+<p>The words of the songs were delightful. One never-ending
+refrain imparted the original and thrilling information that</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">“A long time ago is a veree long time.”</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>Another song was the Stevedore’s Shantée. Then all
+would break out in a wild harmony.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+  <div class="stanza">
+    <div class="verse indent0">“Dat citee hotel is de place wha I dwell,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">Fare thee well—fare thee well—my citee hotel,</div>
+    <div class="verse indent0">My citee hotel—my citee hotel.”</div>
+  </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The one of which we never tired was all about “Salina—mya
+dear,” and we made the men sing it over and over until
+they were breathless.</p>
+
+<p>Like all negroes they were full of spirits and childish humor.
+Their paddling was splendid but terribly wasteful of strength,
+as at the end of each stroke they gave a strong upward jerk,
+sending a shower of drops into the air. Our luggage ballyhoo
+was sometimes abreast of us across the river and when the
+sunlight was reflected from the eight circles of water thrown
+into the air at each stroke, the sight was a beautiful one.</p>
+
+<p>When we returned several weeks later, the shooting of
+these rapids was as exciting as had been the ascent. There
+was no slow difficult paddling or dragging up of the ballyhoo,
+but a swift shooting downward, giving fleeting views of tall
+walls of verdure, innumerable islets, great smooth-faced rocks
+around which our canoe slid, perilously close, her keel sometimes
+scraping the algæ on the bottom. We shot here and
+there from side to side of the river, back and forth, guided by
+the stolid-faced Indian in the bow. Now and then we would
+turn completely around in order to keep to a deep channel
+which bent on itself at an acute angle. Then a moment’s
+breathing in slack water before the men gave way again,
+either to hold back with all their might or to put every ounce
+of strength into their work to keep the boat steady in her
+course, as we ran parallel to a double line of seething,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_268"></a>[268]</span>
+trembling waves, to enter which would have been instant
+destruction.</p>
+
+<p>We would pass by a half dozen smooth-looking false channels,
+to enter the single safe one, perhaps far across under
+the lee of the opposite shore. A pilot not acquainted with
+every foot of the way would have overturned us instantly.
+The Indian would head our bow into the roughest part of
+the water apparently in sheer foolhardiness, but always the
+waves broke under us and tossed us like a chip over the
+jagged rocks. A cross current in the maelstrom would tear
+our bow out of its course, and at a cry from the steersman, all
+ten backs would bend as one and fairly lift the boat back
+into her course. As before, Macaws shrieked overhead,
+Cocoi Herons<span class="bird"><a href="#bird31">31</a></span> stood watching us like statues and the little
+living fish rose from our bow and ploughed their furrows to
+right and left. But all passed as a swiftly-moving kaleidoscope,
+as instantaneous side-lights upon the great white
+tumbling mass of water which ever boiled and surged about us.</p>
+
+<p>At noon of the day of our ascent we entered the Big Aremu
+River, a side tributary of the Cuyuni not more than a hundred
+feet wide, and an hour later we grounded at Aremu Landing.
+Here we said good-by to Sproston’s launch and paddlers, and
+from here on were transported by Mr. Wilshire’s own men
+and boats. We slung our hammocks that night in an open-work,
+thatched and wattled house, the company’s storehouse,
+after a delicious swim in the cool water.</p>
+
+<p>No insects came about the vampire-discouraging lantern
+at night and no evening choruses of birds were heard
+except a family of Red-billed Toucans.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird81">81</a></span> The iridescent
+rough-backed green beetles, known to jewelry makers as
+Brazilian Beetles (<i>Mesomphalia discors</i>), were abundant
+on a vine near the house.</p>
+
+<p>As on our former expedition on the rivers of the northwest
+we found that as the streams became smaller, their interest<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_269"></a>[269]</span>
+increased. The Cuyuni is awe-inspiring and grand beyond
+words, but the banks of the Aremu, closing in little by little
+as we ascended, brought us into more intimate contact with
+the creatures of jungle and forest.</p>
+
+<p>We started up the stream in an open ballyhoo of smaller
+size, at first with paddles, but changing to poles when the
+water became shallower. Snags, or tacubas as is the more
+euphonious native name, became abundant and sometimes
+stretched far out over our heads. Flying fish skimmed in all
+directions and vampires (<i>Desmodus rufus</i>) in scores flew from
+the dead branches projecting from the water. They choose
+a small-sized one, say two inches in diameter, and alight, one
+below the other, with heads raised, watching us. Like little
+animated sun-dials they revolve on their perches as the sun
+passes over, keeping the wood between them and the bright
+light. Many of the snags had bits of dead leaves and other
+débris clinging to them, brought down and lodged by the last
+freshet, and it was not until we almost put our hand on
+them and the bats flew, that we could tell whether we were
+looking at a cluster of vampires or dead leaves. There were
+hundreds throughout the course of the river, so it is a wide-spread
+diurnal roosting habit of these fierce little creatures.
+The blacks in this part of the country call the vampires
+“Dr. Blairs,” after a certain colonial doctor of the olden
+times whose favorite method of treatment was blood-letting.</p>
+
+<p>Swallows in the early morning filled the air above the river
+with a cloud of rapidly moving forms. Orchids in full bloom
+were abundant, long shoots of Golden Showers, the sweet
+<i>Epidendrum odoratum</i> and many others unknown to us, all
+drenched with dew and filling the river canyon with fragrance.
+Three species of Kingfishers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird67">67</a></span><span class="bird"><a href="#bird68">68</a></span><span class="bird"><a href="#bird69">69</a></span> and big Yellow-bellied
+Trogons<span class="bird"><a href="#bird76">76</a></span> appeared now and then. The trees were taller
+than any we had yet seen, many of the moras and cumacas
+being much over a hundred feet from base to top.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_270"></a>[270]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure116" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure116.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 116. Shooting the Rapids at Full Speed.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>At noon we stopped for breakfast in a primeval forest with
+rather thin underbrush. Many small scarab beetles (<i>Canthon
+semiopacus</i>) were resting in the hollows of leaves with
+their branched antennæ raised, waiting apparently for some
+hint of an odor which should summon them to their mission
+of life—the depositing of their eggs in decaying flesh. Spinning
+through the aisles made by the giant columns of tree-trunks,
+were curious translucent pin-wheels, and not until
+we captured one in the butterfly net did we realize we were
+looking at the same attenuated forest dragon-flies (<i>Mecistogaster</i>
+sp.) which had deceived us so completely five years
+ago in Mexico.<a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[G]</a> The movement of the long, narrow wings,
+with the spot of white at the tips was, to the eye, a circular
+revolving whirl, with the needle-sized body trailing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_271"></a>[271]</span>
+behind. The white spots revolved rapidly, while the rest
+of the wings became a mere gray haze. These weird creatures,
+apparently so ethereal and fragile, were hunting for
+spiders, and their method was regular and methodical.
+From under leaves or from the heart of widespread webs,
+good-sized spiders were snatched. A momentary juggling
+with the strong legs, a single nip and the spider minus its
+abdomen dropped to the mould, while the dragon-fly alighted
+and sucked the juices of its victim. If we drew near one of
+these spiders on its web, it instantly darted away, sliding
+down a silken cable to the ground or dashing into some
+crevice, but the approach of the hovering dragon-fly, although
+rather deliberate, was unheeded, the spider remaining
+quiet until snatched from its place.</p>
+
+<p>On a tiny jungle creek we alarmed several large, blunt-nosed
+brown lizards, with low dorsal crests, which ran up
+into the branches to escape us. In this respect they differed
+from the big iguanas which always dropped with a
+resounding splash into the water at our approach.</p>
+
+<p>Near some wild plum trees whose fruit was ripe, we found
+tracks of deer, agoutis and some of the smaller cats. The
+fruit was yellow and oblong in shape with a large stone, and
+tasted the way a tonca bean smells—bitter and yet sweet—a
+strange concentrated essence of the tropics which excited
+one, in that it differed so completely from the taste of any
+other fruit.</p>
+
+<p>Morphos became more abundant from this point on.
+Some were wholly iridescent blue above—a blinding, flashing
+mirror of azure; others were crossed by a broad band of
+black, while in a third species the blue was reduced to a
+narrow bar down the centre of the wing. Great yellow
+swallow-tailed butterflies and exquisite smaller ones flew
+about us. The crocodiles of the Aremu were all small, none
+over three feet, and were all black in color.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_272"></a>[272]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp53" id="figure117" style="max-width: 26.5625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure117.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 117. A Wilderness Passion Flower—Simitú.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>As we went on we were impressed with the amount of work
+which had been necessary to open up this river for the passage
+of ballyhoos laden with mine machinery. Six months
+ago it had been impassable, except for small Indian canoes,
+and these had often to be dragged ashore and around obstructions.
+Now the little channel had been opened, and although
+for the most part completely overhung with interlacing vines
+and branches, yet our ballyhoo wound in and out around the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_273"></a>[273]</span>
+tacubas with but little hindrance. The cost of opening it
+had been more than $15,000. Huge tree-trunks had to be
+sawn through, but even then, the wood of many species
+having greater specific gravity than water, the trunks would
+sink to the bottom like stones, offering a greater obstruction
+than before. Dynamite was then used to clear them from
+the bed of the stream.</p>
+
+<p>In the early afternoon, a beautiful dull-red passion flower
+on a climbing vine became common, and we found that its
+fruit was edible and called by the natives Simitú. Although
+apparently so much at home here, this plant, known as the
+Water Lemon (<i>Passiflora laurifolia</i>), is really an escape from
+cultivation.</p>
+
+<p>The river twisted and turned in every direction and the
+banks were four to eight feet in height with sloping bars of
+sand on the inside bends. Palms were rather scarce, their
+place, in appearance at least, being taken by the tall, slender
+Congo pump trees with deeply serrated rosettes of leaves.
+Tree-ferns appeared in ever increasing numbers and stretched
+their graceful fronds from the banks far out over our heads.</p>
+
+<p>During midday, silence filled these river glades, both birds
+and insects resting quietly in the heat, and the only sound was
+the regular scraping of the poles against the sides of the
+ballyhoo. The heat was not oppressive except in the glaring
+sunshine on the water, but such exposure was rare in
+these deeply forested recesses. We had had no rain thus
+far and the temperature of the mornings and evenings was
+delightfully cool. At night we could scarcely keep warm
+rolled in a hammock in a thick blanket. Unpleasant insects
+were entirely absent, and yet we were travelling in the heart
+of a tropical wilderness, which most of us have pictured as
+a sizzling, steaming hot-house, teeming with venomous reptiles
+and stinging bugs of all descriptions.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_274"></a>[274]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure118" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure118.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 118. Our Camp on the Aremu River.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_275"></a>[275]</span></p>
+
+<p>About three o’clock, the Goldbirds<span class="bird"><a href="#bird115">115</a></span> began calling and
+some other species with a single loud whistle. A Cormorant
+rose with heavy wing-beats ahead of us, and when we flushed
+it the second time we shot it. It was the little Guiana Cormorant<span class="bird"><a href="#bird47">47</a></span>
+only twenty-eight inches in length, with eyes of dull
+green. A deer broke away from the bank at the sound of
+the shot and dashed off.</p>
+
+<p>That night we made camp in the jungle. A skeleton
+shelter roof of poles was thrown up, over which was stretched
+a tarpaulin, coming to within six or seven feet of the ground
+all around. Then a double row of stout stakes was driven
+into the leaf mould along each side and the hammocks slung
+from them. They were springy, and one swung not only
+sideways but with a slight end for end motion that made
+every movement easy.</p>
+
+<p>While we were making camp we were hailed by a passing
+ballyhoo, the occupant of which proved to be Mr. Fowler,
+the head of the Colony Department of Lands and Mines,
+who had been at the mine on a tour of inspection and was
+now on his way back to Georgetown. Hospitable Mrs.
+Wilshire at once invited him to come over from his camping
+place farther downstream and dine with us. A dinner party
+in the “bush!” We all shared the feeling of festivity. The
+men hastily constructed a table of the trunks of young saplings,
+while the rest of the party hung lighted lanterns from
+the overhanging branches. Directly in front of the camp
+was a tall, straight Copa tree draped with long hanging bush
+ropes dangling from the lowest branches, seventy or eighty
+feet up the trunk. The base sent out thin, far-reaching
+buttresses, the intervals between which formed natural seats
+and closets for our guns and bags. Mr. Fowler’s Indian
+hunter brought in several Curassows which we added to the
+Cormorant for dinner. Mr. Fowler had seen a Bush-master
+(<i>Lachesis mutus</i>) a few hundred yards upstream, the first
+poisonous snake of which we had heard on this trip. We
+had a merry dinner, Mr. Fowler telling us many an interesting
+story of his early days in the colony.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_276"></a>[276]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure119" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure119.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 119. Poling under Tacubas on the Little Aremu.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_277"></a>[277]</span></p>
+
+<p>The jungle around our camp was alive with sound all night—frogs
+chiefly; the wing-beating fellows, the heavily loaded
+freight engines, the bleating calves and a new kind which
+raised its loud and continuous voice in choking roars. One’s
+imagination pictured death struggles between man-like monkeys
+and other creatures, the qualities of human and bestial
+voices were so blended in this utterance. Vampires flew
+about back and forth under our shelter but none bit us. So
+strange and wonderful was this night in the “bush” that
+for many hours sleep was impossible.</p>
+
+<p>Early next morning a light rain fell for an hour and through
+it we photographed our night’s camp. As the sun shone
+dimly through the mist a chorus arose—Woodhewers, Parrots,
+Macaws and in the distance the ever thrilling moan of
+the red “baboons.”</p>
+
+<p>The last black pushed off with his pole about eight o’clock
+and we settled ourselves for our last day of river travel.
+The stream became narrower and more diversified, in places
+being not more than twenty-five feet from bank to bank,
+then spreading out to twice that width with strange keel-like
+sharp rocks projecting from its surface. We elbowed
+our way through a perfect maze of dovetailed tacubas and
+slanting tree-trunks, which we went around or rubbed along
+or scraped over. Sometimes we all had to crouch flat down
+to the level of the gunwale to pass under a low trunk, or
+again even to climb out on to the log and down into the
+ballyhoo on the other side. Now and then a pole would
+be wrenched from a negro’s hand as the current or impetus
+of the boat twisted it to one side, or the man himself would
+be flicked overboard amid roars of laughter from his mates,
+who, when he climbed dripping on board again, would inquire
+the cause for the sudden desertion of his post.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_278"></a>[278]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="figure120" style="max-width: 29.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure120.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 120. Tree-ferns on the Little Aremu.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_279"></a>[279]</span></p>
+
+<p>These tacubas, which are really fallen trees, are the most
+apparent danger in the jungle, although the chances of
+accident from them are very slight. Along the bank were
+many slanting trees, bound sooner or later to give way. On
+our return journey down the Aremu we passed, or rather
+scraped under, a huge trunk which completely spanned the
+creek. It must have fallen about two days before and we
+had to push through a perfect tangle of orchids and lianas.</p>
+
+<p>Tree-ferns twelve feet high draped the banks; spiders of
+weird shapes dropped upon us, buoyed up by their long
+silken cables; brush-tipped aërial roots dangling at the ends
+of plummet lines fifty feet long were drawn from stem to
+stern of the boat and across the pages of our journals as we
+wrote.</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour after starting we discovered a Three-toed
+Sloth (<i>Choloepus</i>) high up in a tree almost over the water.
+Mr. Howell shot the creature and we found it to be of
+large size, with long reddish-brown hair. The face, expressionless
+as it always is in these animals, had small eyes of a
+warm hazel color. Later we had it cooked and found it
+quite palatable.</p>
+
+<p>In many of these tropical growths the new or first leaf-shoots
+are pale or brilliant red, this holding good in the case
+of the giant moras, several trees with locust-like foliage, and
+even the flat, leaf-vines, <i>Monstera</i> or shingle plants, crawling
+up the trunks. One small tree with entire leaves and covered
+with sweet-scented tassel-shaped flowers, had at least half
+its foliage of a pale yellow-green. This is the spring of this
+region in so far as such a region of never ending warmth and
+moisture may be said to have a spring. On every hand
+flowers were in abundance. All were unknown to us, but
+most were of large size and varied odor and color. All the
+tales of the rarity of flowers in the tropics had not fitted in
+with our experiences.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_280"></a>[280]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp63" id="figure121" style="max-width: 26.5625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure121.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 121. A Sloth in Action.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>In the course of three bends of the river, during some
+fifteen minutes’ observation, we observed the following in
+masses of sufficient size to catch the eye far off and add a
+decided color tone to the spot where they grew: purple pea-blooms
+in wisteria-like bunches; falling-star white flowers;
+pink two-petalled ground flowers in dense clumps; spider
+lilies, the large kind; red passion flowers; white tubular
+blooms; five-parted purple star-shaped flowers; wild cotton,
+in enormous masses of bloom, resembling clematis and as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_281"></a>[281]</span>
+fragrant; long thin racemes of very fragrant, dull greenish
+white flowers; brush-like purple blooms, white at the base,
+growing sessile on the trunks, with an edible fruit, which
+the blacks call “Waika.”</p>
+
+<p>This list is exclusive of all the many inconspicuous flowers
+and all orchids, which were seldom out of sight. Its value
+lies only in giving the faintest of hints of the wonderful beauty
+of these jungle water trails.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure122" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure122.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 122. A Sloth Asleep.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>On these upper reaches of the stream the two water birds
+most in evidence were Tiger Bitterns<span class="bird"><a href="#bird40">40</a></span> and Great Rufous
+Kingfishers.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird67">67</a></span> One could write pages trying to describe a
+single vista of this beautiful region and yet give only a hint
+of its charm. In one place a mighty loop of a lofty bush<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_282"></a>[282]</span>
+rope or monkey ladder with ornate woody frills decorating
+the edges, hangs swaying high in air across the stream.
+Several other giant vines have caught hold and have wormed
+their way in serpentine folds along the first great swing. In
+the spaces between these huge living cables, seeds and parasitic
+plants have taken root and grown, filling up the network
+with their aërial bulbs and in turn furnishing rootholds
+for an innumerable variety of flowers, ferns, orchids, mosses
+and lichens. The mosses are long and fan-shaped like some
+species of coral, and the lichens are red, pink, gray and
+white. The whole forms, high over our heads, an enormous
+hanging garden which no human ingenuity could
+duplicate.</p>
+
+<p>Two hours after starting we reached the place called Two
+Mouths and turned into the Little Aremu. In no place is
+this stream more than twenty-five feet wide, with low, sloping
+sandy or clay banks facing steep ones, first on the right, then
+on the left side, according to the bend of the stream and the
+force of the current. As we went along a splendid male
+Crested Curassow<span class="bird"><a href="#bird4">4</a></span> flew up and was shot, to be added to
+our menu. Before we came in sight it was clucking softly.</p>
+
+<p>A splash around a bend, and sharp claw and toe marks
+showed where a capybara (<i>Hydrochoerus capybara</i>) had
+just entered the water, and from here on we found such
+tracks common on every sandy bank.</p>
+
+<p>We were amused at our steersman’s occasional orders to
+the crew. In places where the current was swift and poling
+was very difficult he would shout in a most woful and despairing
+voice “O Lord!”, giving us quite a start. We eventually
+found that he was intending this ejaculation for “Pole-hard!”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_283"></a>[283]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp57" id="figure123" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure123.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 123. Where only Otters and Fish can pass.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_284"></a>[284]</span></p>
+
+<p>Black-shelled mollusks were common on submerged logs,
+and on the banks above the water line were scores of curious
+spiders and insects, while dragon-flies of a half dozen or more
+species darted swiftly about. Throughout the morning we
+were never out of hearing of the hammering of Woodpeckers,
+or the cooing of Doves or the laughing, descending scales of
+Woodhewers. The Chinese music of the cicadas came
+to our ears, a sound which recalled vividly the forests of
+Venezuela.</p>
+
+<p>The water was now at a medium level, but after heavy
+rains when it is high, all the great tacubas six feet above our
+heads are submerged and much of the land along the river
+banks becomes a swamp.</p>
+
+<p>Farther upstream when the water became very shallow
+and the stream narrowed to twelve or fifteen feet, some of us
+left the ballyhoo in order to make the work of the blacks
+easier, and took to the trail. After a fifteen minutes’ walk
+we saw the glimmer of sunshine through the trees and knew
+that we had reached the gold mine of the Little Aremu.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_285"></a>[285]</span></p>
+
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.<br>
+<span class="smaller">JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU.<br>
+SOME PAGES FROM MY DIARY.<br>
+(<i>By C. William Beebe.</i>)</span></h3>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>Even more to the Gold Mine of Aremu than to Hoorie is
+the application “island” or “oasis” in the jungle, appropriate.
+The clearing is about twenty acres in extent, approximately
+circular, with the magnificent forest trees crowding
+densely to the very edge. The bungalow and mine shaft
+are on the summit of a symmetrical hill, which slopes evenly
+and steeply down on all sides. The hill is about a hundred
+feet in height and yet the trees far down at the foot tower
+high above it.</p>
+
+<p>The concession includes about seven and a half square
+miles, and in many places where the rock outcrops, well
+paying deposits of gold are visible. At Aremu there is a
+soft quartz ledge about eight feet wide running almost
+vertically and rich in gold. Often the metal is visible and a
+small lens shows the yellow crystals encrusting the white
+matrix.</p>
+
+<p>The first day at Aremu we went down in the mining
+bucket, two and two—each clinging to the wire cable and
+balancing the opposite person. Down and down went the
+swaying bucket, slowly revolving—the heat and sunshine
+of the upper air replaced by the cool darkness—damp and
+chilly with rich earthen, clayey smells. Eighty-five feet
+below the surface the four leads began, one a hundred feet
+along the vein. This consists of a ferrugineous gold-bearing
+quartz, somewhat decomposed by the dissolving out of
+several of its constituents. The candles shed a flickering
+light on the slimy, dripping walls and for a few moments one
+felt completely confused—so hard was it to stand there
+shivering and yet realize that a few yards overhead was
+brilliant tropical light and sunshine, gaudy birds and butterflies.
+One seemed in a wholly different world.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_286"></a>[286]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure124" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure124.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 124. Aremu Gold Mine, showing Bungalow and Mine Shaft.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_287"></a>[287]</span></p>
+
+<p>But though forever buried in dripping darkness, there were
+as bright colors here as in the living creatures above ground.
+Each side of the quartz vein ran an endless series of beautifully
+stratified, decomposed, talc-like clays; purest white,
+orange, slate-colored, pink, blue, yellow and brown—one
+hue succeeding another like some strange fossil rainbow.</p>
+
+<p>Outside near the bottom of the hill, two gaping holes
+showed where the blacks who discovered the gold years
+ago worked the ledge by hand—leaving even in their
+tailings enough gold to make it well worth working over.
+Now electric stamps, run by great boilers, do the work, all
+brought up the Little Aremu bit by bit, with the greatest
+labor, at seasons of high water.</p>
+
+<p>Here as at Hoorie a few pork-knockers were allowed to
+locate their diminutive claims and glean what superficial
+metal they could from surface deposits. A mile away to
+the west was a large outcropping known as “England” and
+here four or five blacks were working. On each Saturday
+night they would bring their little packets of gold to the store
+to receive credit checks or receipts. Once as we were crouching
+in the jungle watching some “cushie” or parasol ants,
+two of these black pork-knockers passed within a yard without
+seeing us, each with his little bundle of worldly belongings
+on his head, topped by a wooden gold pan.</p>
+
+<p>I have mentioned panning as the most primitive method of
+mining, next to which comes the “Long Tom.” At “England”
+we found a third advance—a method of breaking up<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_288"></a>[288]</span>
+partly decomposed gold-bearing quartz. A deep narrow pit
+showed where the material was found, shovelfuls being
+thrown up on two successive ledges before it reached the
+surface. It was then carried to an open thatched roof beneath
+which was a primitive, two-man power stamp. This
+was nothing but a gigantic hammer made of two logs, the hammer
+part covered with metal, and the handle hung in a socket,
+so that the centre of gravity lay toward the head. Two men,
+balancing themselves by clinging to uprights, stepped in
+unison on the tip of the handle, their combined weight depressing
+it and raising the head; then stepping off suddenly
+the hammer came down with great force on a pile of broken
+gold-quartz, fed into a hardened hollow beneath it. This
+mining enterprise required no less than five men, and they
+were taking out about $1.20 each a day.</p>
+
+<p>Comparing the division of labor among men with that
+among cells, we may liken the single “pork-knocker” to an
+Amoeba, where a single man and a single cell perform all
+the necessary functions; the Long Tom with two men is like
+the simpler sponges—where one set of cells secretes the
+skeleton of spicules, giving shape to the whole, and another
+set lashes the water and absorbs the tiny bits of food. The
+crusher with its five men, each performing his individual
+labor, corresponds to some slightly higher organism—a
+jelly-fish or anemone,—while the electrically run stamps,
+employing several score of men, is like the complex cell
+machinery of a beetle or butterfly.</p>
+
+<p>The Aremu Mine clearing had been in existence only about
+six months, and the trees which were felled had been sawed up
+or burnt so that there was no such abundance of wood-loving
+insects as at Hoorie. At night a few Longicorn beetles would
+appear and buzz about, but almost no moths. In fact during
+our whole stay only one moth of large size was seen. One
+small species of moth, with wings of a general rusty-red,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_289"></a>[289]</span>
+a light line along the front margin and spreading only an
+inch, appeared in numbers on the evening of April 2d.
+The following day we saw many of the Gray-rumped Swifts
+snatching them from the bushes in the clearing. I brought
+a single specimen back and found it was a species new to
+science, which has been named <i>Capnodes albicosta</i>.<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[H]</a></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp67" id="figure125" style="max-width: 28.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure125.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 125. Descending the Shaft.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Walking sticks and mantises were more abundant. Some
+of the former had well-developed wings on which they
+whirred about the bungalow; others had none at all or
+reduced to a scale-like vestige. In an individual of a third<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_290"></a>[290]</span>
+group the wings, while perfect, were pitiful affairs, mere
+mockeries of pinions, barely an inch in extent, while the
+body of the insect was almost five inches in length. When
+thrown into the air the poor “stick” expanded his wings to
+the fullest but wholly in vain. There was just sufficient
+spread of wing to act as a parachute and allow him to scale
+safely to the ground.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp67" id="figure126" style="max-width: 28.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure126.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 126. Walking Stick Insect.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>We watched him several days and never tired of his peculiar
+walk, swaying from side to side. Often when at rest
+the front pair of legs would be extended parallel with the
+antennæ, along the anterior line of the body, making the
+imitation twig eight inches over all (<a href="#figure126">Fig. 126</a>).</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_291"></a>[291]</span></p>
+
+<p>As we walked through the jungle wood roads close to the
+clearing, large forest dragon-flies, small tiger beetles (<i>Odontochila
+confusa</i>, <i>O. cayennensis</i> and <i>O. lacordairei</i>) and a few
+yellow-spotted Heliconias were the most noticeable insects.
+One or two of the giant metallic Buprestid beetles (<i>Euchroma
+goliath</i>) were sure to be seen flying about the fallen trees,
+and our Indian hunter invariably made a dash at them, and
+as invariably missed the active, alert creatures.</p>
+
+<p>Passing by a great mora stump in the clearing, our attention
+was attracted one day by a large caterpillar hanging
+dangling about two feet from the ground, squirming and
+wriggling vigorously. We ran up and saw a most interesting
+sight. Through a hole, about three quarters of an inch in
+diameter, protruded one of the claws of a good-sized scorpion.
+These villainous pincers had a secure grip on two of the long
+head spines of the caterpillar, which was dangling helplessly.
+As the latter wriggled, the scorpion made attempt after attempt
+to draw its victim inside the hole, a most absurd thing,
+as from tip to tip of spines the caterpillar measured almost
+two inches across. After watching this tableau I caught
+the scorpion’s claw in a pair of pliers, drew him out, and,
+Milady holding him up with the caterpillar, I photographed
+them together.</p>
+
+<p>The caterpillar was a most gorgeous creature; pale green,
+fading into yellowish at the posterior edge of each segment,
+while the movable joints were dark brown. On the seven
+posterior segments there were six rows of branched spines,
+the stalks pale orange and the branches pale blue—the
+three colors, green, orange and blue, making a most harmonious
+combination. On the anterior five segments there
+were two additional rows of spines, small ones, low down on
+the sides. The eight spines on the head segment pointed
+forward, projecting beyond the head. The longest spines
+were on the second, third and caudal segment and were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_292"></a>[292]</span>
+over three quarters of an inch. All the blue branchlets
+ended in a dark, tiny needle point, and they stung like nettles
+as we found when we accidentally touched some.</p>
+
+<p>I had never heard of a contest between two such creatures,
+and should think the scorpion must have been hard put to it
+for food, to make frantic attempts to secure such a prickly
+mouthful.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure127" style="max-width: 25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure127.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 127. Scorpion and Caterpillar after their Battle.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>South of the bungalow, scrubby bush had been allowed
+to grow up and here was a scattering of non-forest birds;
+three pairs of Silver-beak Tanagers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird146">146</a></span> and a pair of Seed-eaters.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird131">131</a></span>
+Gray-rumped Swifts<span class="bird"><a href="#bird72">72</a></span> coursed over the clearing
+and Toucans, Macaws and Orange-headed Vultures<span class="bird"><a href="#bird52">52</a></span> were
+occasionally seen from the bungalow, while a pair of splendid
+Red-crested Woodpeckers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird88">88</a></span> hammered the trunks and
+leaped from tree to tree all through the day.</p>
+
+<p>In the clearing itself we saw little of mammalian life, although
+we dined daily on all the bush meat from bush-pig<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_293"></a>[293]</span>
+to acourie. The whitened bones of an ocelot lay in perfect
+arrangement at the edge of the clearing fifty yards from the
+bungalow, picked clean by ants but for some unaccountable
+reason untouched by Vultures. The animal had been shot
+at night, chicken stealing.</p>
+
+<p>At daybreak the red howlers came to the edge of the
+clearing and awakened us from our slumbers by their wonderfully
+weird chant.</p>
+
+<p>Jaguars were not seen or heard, except one reported by
+the mail carrier who runs between Aremu and Perseverance
+Landing. Some years ago an Indian near here found a litter
+of jaguar cubs containing two normally colored and one
+black individual. The latter was purchased by a colonist
+and sent to the London Zoo.</p>
+
+<p>A dull-colored, harmless snake, four feet long, with two rows
+of keeled scales along the back, was the only serpent we found
+in or near the clearing. Lizards were everywhere and one
+very large iguana inhabited a bit of wood-road, but evaded all
+our efforts to add him to our mess pot.</p>
+
+<p>The Amphibians alone in this region would well repay
+months of study. Our brief visit gave us only a glimpse of
+them. The commonest frog in the jungle near the clearing
+was a medium sized, dark-bodied one (<i>Dendrobates trivittatus</i>)
+with green legs and two pale green bands, one running around
+the front edge of the head, back over the eyes and down the
+sides of the body; the second line being beneath the first.
+The under parts were covered with blue lines and mottlings.
+The first half dozen seen were normal in appearance, but
+then one was encountered which instantly drew my attention.
+A closer look showed that the back of the animal was covered
+with a solid mass of living tadpoles, each over half an inch
+in length. When I urged him into a jar, two tadpoles were
+scraped off and wriggled vigorously. When put into water
+they sank to the bottom and made no attempt to swim,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_294"></a>[294]</span>
+although the tail fins were well developed and there was as
+yet no trace of limbs.</p>
+
+<p>I kept this frog in a box with wet earth and a puddle of
+water, and two days later half the tadpoles had left his back
+and were swimming strongly in the muddy water. They were
+attached to the back of their parent only by their sucking
+disks, and the object of the strange association seemed only
+temporary and not intended to last until the tadpoles became
+adult. They would probably drop off and swim away one
+by one when their father entered some forest pool. This
+species of frog was very active and capable of remarkably
+long jumps.</p>
+
+<p>As I shall mention later, the sharp eyes of my Indian hunter
+spied a most remarkable frog in the jungle one day, which I
+brought home in my pocket. Its scheme of protective form
+and color was perfect—the hue of dried leaves and withered
+mosses, with deeply serrated sides and a high irregular ridge
+over each eye. I placed it among some dried leaves and
+tried to focus on it with my Graflex, but could not find it.
+Then I stooped down and although the frog had not moved
+and I knew the square yard within which it was resting, it
+took me a full minute before I located it, and optically disentangled
+it from its surroundings. I have never seen such a
+case of complete dissolution and disappearance. When I
+alarmed it, the frog closed its eyes—thus obliterating the
+dark spots of its irides, and then little by little opened them
+again.</p>
+
+<p>Every evening at half past five o’clock we would troop down
+to the stream and swim and paddle about on the sand bars
+in the half day—half moonlight. The water was cool and
+refreshing and the temperature of the air invigorating at this
+hour, and to lie on one’s back and look up at the lofty moras
+and other trees stretching their branches fifty yards or more
+overhead was a sensation never to be forgotten.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_295"></a>[295]</span></p>
+
+<p>We spent ten days at the Aremu Mine, and it speaks well
+for the working possibilities of this region that I was able
+to rise at five o’clock in the morning and with intervals only
+for meals, keep up steady work—exploring, photographing
+and skinning until ten o’clock at night, when usually the
+last skin would be rolled up or the last note written. I would
+then tumble, happy and dead tired, into bed and know nothing
+until the low signal of our Indian hunter summoned me in
+the dusk of the following morning. I worked harder than
+I ought to have done even in our northern countries and yet
+felt no ill effects.</p>
+
+<p>What impressed me chiefly in regard to the birds of this
+region was, first the abundance, and second, the great variety.
+In the course of the ten days of our stay, we identified 80
+species of birds, and observed at least a full two hundred more
+which we were unable to classify except as to family or genus.
+Wishing to study the birds alive I refrained from shooting as
+much as possible and chose to make this expedition rather
+one of preparation in learning what tropical wood-craft I
+could from an excellent Indian hunter, than of gathering a
+collection and thereby a lengthy list of mere names. When,
+sometime in the future, we return to this splendid field of
+study and spend months in careful observation of some
+such limited region, we may hope to add something of real
+value to our knowledge of the ecology of these most interesting
+forms of tropical life. We have the results of the
+collector, par-excellence, in our museum cases of thousands
+of tropical bird-skins. Now let us learn something of the
+environment and life history of the living birds themselves.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_296"></a>[296]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure128" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure128.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 128. Milady and the Giant Mora Tree.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_297"></a>[297]</span></p>
+
+<p>It is against my rule to write in diary form, but owing to
+the limited time we spent at Aremu and the series of events,
+some of which extended over two or three days, I have
+made an exception in this case and will put down a few of
+the incidents of jungle life in the order in which I observed
+them. Far from giving all the observations made here on
+birds and other creatures, I have included only those of
+greatest interest, which will convey an idea of the conditions
+of life here as compared to those in our northern woods and
+forests.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">March</span> 28th.—Leaving the house before noon I crossed
+the Little Aremu by a foot bridge, at the western edge of the
+clearing. The stream here flows gently and smoothly; it is
+from one to four feet deep, and ten to fifteen feet wide.
+Following it upstream, one is stopped within a few yards by
+a perfect tangle and maze of interlocked vines and trunks
+showing what it was like lower down before the hand of
+man hewed and blasted a free channel. The forest about
+the mine clearing is probably near the extreme, even of
+tropical growth. One feels absolutely dwarfed as one gazes
+up—far up, at the lofty branches, where birds like tiny
+insects are flying about, in a world by themselves. The
+trunks are clean, hard and straight as marble columns and
+the undergrowth is thin, giving access in almost any direction,
+yet dense enough to harbor many species of birds and
+animals.</p>
+
+<p>Turning south along a wood road, I started on my first
+tramp into the jungle. It was the hottest part of the day,
+but there was all the difference in the world between sun and
+shade, and here in the recesses of the forest it was pleasantly
+cool, and birds and insects were abundant.</p>
+
+<p>One of the first sounds which came to my ears was a loud,
+intermittent rustling among the dried leaves, marked now
+and then by a low grunt. Crawling up quietly behind a
+great mossy log, I peered over and was surprised to find
+that I had been stalking a huge tortoise. I certainly might
+reasonably have expected to see a mammal instead of a reptile,
+as our tortoises of the north are not in the habit of
+attracting our attention by their vocal efforts. This was a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_298"></a>[298]</span>
+South American Tortoise (<i>Testudo tabulata</i>) of the largest
+size, not far from two feet in length, and he was busy rooting
+in the ground for some small nuts which had fallen in great
+quantities from the tree overhead and settled among the
+débris of the leaf mould. The shell of the tortoise was high
+and arched, dark brown in color with a bright yellow centre
+in each shield. There were two deep abrasions on the shell,
+apparently caused by the teeth of some carnivore.</p>
+
+<p>These tortoises were very common and we had many delicious
+soups and stews made of their meat. They were,
+however, heavy and awkward to carry and we never bothered
+to bring them home unless on the return journey and near
+the clearing. In one individual we found eight eggs about to
+be deposited.</p>
+
+<p>My wood road led up a gentle incline down which logs had
+been skidded, and after a half mile it merged gradually into
+the jungle. At the last sign of the axe I sat down on a fallen
+trunk and quietly waited. Three Blue Honey Creepers<span class="bird"><a href="#bird136a">136a</a></span>—two
+males and one green female,—dashed here and there
+in the branches close overhead. They uttered sharp cheeps,
+until the males flew at each other and began fighting furiously—ascending
+for fifty feet in a whirling spiral of hazy
+blue and black, and then clinching and falling to earth,
+where they clung together claw to claw, and pecked viciously
+and in silence, their beautiful plumage disheveled and broken.
+The lady—heartless cause of all this terrible strife—cheeped
+in low tones overhead and nonchalantly plucked invisible
+dainties from the undersides of leaves. I took a step toward
+the combatants and they separated and vanished, the lady,
+be it noted, following swiftly in their wake.</p>
+
+<p>Close upon this melodrama came a fairy Manakin, black
+with a conspicuous white chin. I never saw another and
+cannot identify it, distinctly marked though it was. Through
+the forest came the low belling of Green Cassiques;<span class="bird"><a href="#bird150">150</a></span> then<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_299"></a>[299]</span>
+no sound save the drowsy hum of insects high overhead.
+The most frequent noise came from falling leaves, twigs and
+branches—yes, leaves, for “gently as a falling leaf” in this
+tropic world might mean, “like the stroke of a sledge hammer!”
+The realization comes again, as a yellow leaf eddies
+past my seat, that autumn is distributed throughout the whole
+year, while the freshly opening pink and reddish shoots on
+every hand show that spring is never absent.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp71" id="figure129" style="max-width: 29.6875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure129.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 129. Aërial Roots of Bush-rope.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>I observed something circling about in an opening to my
+left and on examining it found a peculiar flat cake-like wasp
+nest, with the solitary pair of owners (<i>Polybia</i> sp.) on the rim.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_300"></a>[300]</span>
+It was attached to the extremity of a long, slender bush-thread
+dangling from a great distance above. There was
+not a breath of air and the secret of the circling motion—the
+nest moving irregularly in an ellipse of about ten feet—was
+not solved until with my glasses I made out a small
+monkey—a marmoset apparently—clinging to a branch
+near where the bush-thread started. The little creature had
+found some store of food in a hollow or crevice of the bark.
+To get his hand in, he was compelled to push aside the dangling
+curtain of aërial root-threads, and this occasional motion
+was enough to send the end, far below, sailing around in a
+large circle.</p>
+
+<p>As I resumed my seat, a great beetle, like a polished emerald,
+alighted close beside me,—not heavy and blundering,
+like a June-bug or scarab, but nervous, flicking its wings
+wasp-like, ready at an instant’s alarm to whirr away as swiftly
+as light. A beautifully marked Longicorn beetle buzzed
+past and alighted ten feet up a sapling, leaving me eying it
+enviously, atremble with all my boyhood’s collecting ardor.
+Heliconias sailed slowly past and one of the beautiful transparent
+jungle butterflies alighted at my feet, with only a few
+dots of azure revealing the position of the wings. White and
+yellow butterflies floated high in air, where a hundred kinds
+of flowers flashed out among the green foliage.</p>
+
+<p>Lizards were abundant in this little clearing, slipping along
+fallen trees with sudden rushes and halts, or tearing madly
+after each other with loud rustlings through the fallen leaves.
+Some were beautifully colored, splashed with blue, orange and
+green; while other dark ones had a network of delicate light
+lines crossing the back, cutting the creatures up into likenesses
+of small lichened leaves.</p>
+
+<p>When the sun shone out brightly, two or three minute
+midges danced before my eyes—otherwise I was free from
+the “insect scourges” of the tropics!</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_301"></a>[301]</span></p>
+
+<p>The trees on this and all later days constantly drew from
+us exclamations of delight. They were magnificent, awe-inspiring,
+and if I could think of any stronger word of appreciation
+I should apply it at once to them. Their immensity
+and apparent age made one reflect upon the transiency of
+animal and human existence. Even the long-lived Parrots
+and Macaws perching on their branches seemed like may-flies
+of a day compared with these giants of the jungle, which
+had watched century upon century pass.</p>
+
+<p>As I looked at the circle of trees bordering the clearing—a
+clearing which itself was the result of the felling of only one
+such giant—the great variety of trees was at once noticeable.
+Near relatives—brothers and sisters, or fathers and sons—could
+not exist within each other’s shadow. So it was that
+a dozen kinds were visible from my seat. One splendid
+fellow sent up a perfectly rounded grayish column, one
+hundred and fifty feet or more, propped with a single great
+fox-colored buttress, sweeping gracefully out from the weaker
+side of the ground hold of the trunk, like the train of a court
+lady’s dress.</p>
+
+<p>Another column was round but deeply fluted, the trunk
+being rimmed with a succession of scallops, while in a third
+tree known as Paddle-wood, this was carried to an extreme,
+the trunk being little more than the point of juncture of a
+dozen thin blade-like sheets of wood. The whole was of a
+beautiful leaden-gray color.</p>
+
+<p>The moras were the biggest and tallest trees within sight,
+and sent out huge buttresses, twenty feet in all directions
+with space between them for a good-sized room. The impression
+of security was perfect—it seemed as if the strongest
+of winds could never overcome such a reinforced structure.</p>
+
+<p>Hearing near at hand the strange cicada <i>whirr!</i> which we
+have described in a previous chapter (<a href="#Page_23">page 23</a>), I watched
+for the insect and soon traced the sound to a very large<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_302"></a>[302]</span>
+cicada high up on the trunk of a tree. Wishing to identify
+it and lacking other means of getting it, I backed away
+some distance and brought it down with a 22 calibre shot
+cartridge. It is a remarkable country indeed where one goes
+gunning for bugs! And not only this, but I only winged my
+game! one pellet of lead breaking the main vein of the right
+wing, bringing the insect to the ground where it buzzed and
+flopped about until I caught and chloroformed it.</p>
+
+<p>It was a beautiful species almost three inches in length
+with transparent wings marbled with wavy black markings,
+and with the thorax and abdomen ornamented with tufts of
+golden and brown hair (<i>Cicada grossa</i>).</p>
+
+<p>Keeping to the left through the open underbrush I intersected
+another wood road, then swung around and at last
+entered the clearing from the southeast. Hearing a rustling
+I suspected another tortoise, and was about to pass on when
+I saw leaves and twigs flying into the air behind a log.
+Creeping from tree to tree I saw that the commotion was
+made by a trio of Ant-thrushes or, as I prefer to call them,
+Antbirds. They took the leaves and leaf mould in their
+beaks and threw them over their backs, all three working
+side by side, covering a width of about two feet. They were
+Woodcock Antbirds,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird93">93</a></span> reminding one, in the general tone of
+coloration of the upper parts, of that bird. The chin and
+throat were black bordered with white which extended up
+the sides of the neck and forward over the eyes. The tail
+was short and often held erect over the back, while the strong
+legs and feet proclaimed them terrestrial rather than arboreal.
+When flying or excited, a row of white spots flashed out from
+all the wing feathers save the first two primaries, but when
+the wings were closed only buff markings were visible. Now
+and then two of the birds would spy some morsel of food at
+the same instant and a tussel would ensue. With angry scolding
+cries the two contestants would strike at each other with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_303"></a>[303]</span>
+their beaks, with wings wide spread and the elongated feathers
+of the back raised and parted, exposing the conspicuous white
+base of the plumes, almost like a rosette. These white
+stars were very conspicuous amid the dark shadows of the
+forest floor, vanishing instantly when the wings were lowered.
+This color was not visible in flight. Many of the species of
+this group of birds have a similar concealed dorsal spot, and
+it must serve some definite purpose. When the matter of
+dispute was devoured or had crawled away into safety, the
+quarrel was at once forgotten and the birds began scratching
+peacefully side by side as before.</p>
+
+<p>A short distance beyond I encountered what I found
+later was the most common assemblage of birds to be
+found in this region—a flock of Antbirds and Woodhewers,
+with a few other species, such as Flycatchers and
+Tanagers. One could not take even a short walk in the
+forest hereabouts without observing several such flocks,
+numbering from a dozen to fifty or more individuals.</p>
+
+<p>The Antbirds comprise a family, <i>Formicariidae</i>, of which
+more than two hundred and fifty species are known.
+They are rather generalized passerine birds, which are found
+only in the tropical forests of northern South America.
+Inconspicuous in color and retiring in habits it is only when
+one becomes familiar with these tropical jungles that one
+realizes how numerous these birds really are. Their notes
+are usually uttered only at intervals and are often difficult
+to locate. They creep silently among the lower branches
+or, as we have seen, search the ground for the insects which
+form their food. The name Ant-thrush is rather a misnomer,
+for they are not Thrushes, and while they are always
+attendant upon the swarms of hunting ants yet they seldom
+feed upon the ants themselves, but on the insects stirred up
+by the ferocious insects.</p>
+
+<p>We know but little about the nesting habits of these birds,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_304"></a>[304]</span>
+and we were unable to locate a nest during our brief stay although
+we knew that several were breeding near the clearing.</p>
+
+<p>Like most other tropical families, Antbirds have been
+compelled by competition to specialize, and we find some
+Shrike-like in habits as well as appearance; others resembling
+the long-legged Pittas of the East Indies, while the majority
+parallel Wrens, Warblers or Thrushes.</p>
+
+<p>The Woodhewers of the well-named family <i>Dendrocolaptidae</i>,
+or Tree-chisellers, form with the Antbirds a considerable
+percentage of the smaller forest birds of this
+region. There are not far from three hundred forms of
+these birds, all of dull colors—rufous or brown tones prevailing.</p>
+
+<p>Woodhewers in the main parallel the Woodpeckers, and
+especially the Brown Creepers, in their method of obtaining
+food. Their claws and feet are strong, the legs short, and
+the tail feathers in the majority of species are stiff and spine-like.
+They hitch up the trunks of trees, finding their food
+in the chinks and crevices of bark, but not boring into the
+wood like Woodpeckers. While the stiff tails show that all
+have probably descended from tree-creeping ancestors, some
+Woodhewers have deserted the trunks and have become
+Warbler-like in haunt and habit. Such a one is the Cinnamon
+Spine-tail<span class="bird"><a href="#bird94">94</a></span> or “Rootie” (<a href="#Page_379">p. 379</a>). In the tropical forest
+however, Woodhewers differ but little in their method of
+locomotion, and one or more of these fox-colored birds hitching
+up a great trunk is one of the commonest sights. There
+is remarkable adaptiveness in the bills, some being stout and
+blunt, others long and curved.</p>
+
+<p>The notes of these birds are, with the calls of the Toucans
+and Cotingas, among those most frequently heard. In the
+early morning especially, the sweet descending scales of single
+notes from various parts of the forest forms a feature which
+is seldom lacking.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_305"></a>[305]</span></p>
+
+<p>Just before I reached the clearing I flushed two labbas
+or pacas (<i>Coelogenys paca</i>) which ran squealing almost from
+under my feet. These are rodents, looking like giant
+Guinea-pigs about two feet in length, with brown fur spotted
+with white. Their flesh is the most delicate of all the “bush
+meat.”</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Howell followed my tracks later in the afternoon and
+brought home a Tamandua, or Lesser Anteater (<i>Tamandua
+tetradactyla</i>), which he shot in a tree. This creature is rather
+sloth like in color and in development of its claws, but its
+tail is prehensile, and nothing more unlike could be
+imagined than the heads of the two animals, that of the
+sloth short, round and blunt; the anteater’s long, slim and
+pointed.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">March</span> 29th.—We had an excellent illustration this morning
+of how easily one can get a totally wrong idea of the animal
+and bird life of a tropical forest. Nine of us started out along
+a faint trail used by black “pork-knockers,” which, after several
+miles of twisting and turning, led to an outcropping of
+gold, known as “England,” all on Mr. Wilshire’s concession.
+Throughout the whole tramp, although we lagged behind,
+we noted not a single bird or animal of interest save for
+a scattering of Toucans and Parrots. Every living creature
+fled before us or remained hidden. One might thus tramp
+across a continent and report the tropics to be barren of life,
+except in the tree-tops. Not only this, but the few birds
+which flew over or were otherwise seen momentarily were
+without exception brilliantly colored, and this would help to
+sustain the wide-spread impression that tropical birds are
+invariably of bright plumage, which is very untrue. There
+are really more dull-colored than brilliant birds in the
+tropics.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_306"></a>[306]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure130" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure130.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 130. Tamandua.</span> (Photo. by Sanborn.)</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_307"></a>[307]</span></p>
+
+<p>At last I slip aside, let my companions go on, and make a
+detour to the left of the trail. Here in the heart of the jungle
+I discover an overgrown clearing with the skeleton of a hut
+in the centre. The ruin itself is a thing of exquisite beauty,
+the half-decayed uprights and roof saplings being interlaced
+and overhung with vines, the brilliant scarlet, poppy-like
+passion flowers crowning all. From the blossoms comes a
+busy hum of insects, in sharp contrast to the silence of the
+trail along which we have come. In the virgin forest there
+is ever sharp contrast. Brilliant bits of sunlight alternate
+with blackest shadow; deathly silence is broken by the ear-piercing
+call of the Goldbird; the dull earthy smell of the
+mould is suddenly permeated by the rare sweet incense of
+some blossom or the penetrating musk of an animal or some
+huge hemipterous insect.</p>
+
+<p>In a clearing—even a deserted one like this and only a
+few yards in extent—all is toned down. The odors are
+diffused and difficult to analyze; the droning of bees alternates
+only with the sharper whirr of a Hummingbird’s wings,
+either the brown White-eyebrowed one,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird73">73</a></span> or the beauty with
+long sweeping tail.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird75">75</a></span> The Rufous-breasted Hummingbirds<span class="bird"><a href="#bird74">74</a></span>
+are abundant here and have quite a sweet song, a trill of
+twelve or fifteen notes, slow at first but rapidly increasing and
+ascending.</p>
+
+<p>The half hidden framework of the hut with the collapsed
+shelf and table, tell of man’s past presence; so do the papaw,
+sugar-cane and banana run riot; and suddenly we hear the
+sweet rollicking song of a little House Wren,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird124">124</a></span> man’s follower,
+filling the deserted glade with sweetness; probably
+hoping that soon he will return and reclaim this fast vanishing
+oasis. For when the trees and vines—already reaching
+up over the papaw and bananas—close densely in, as they
+surely will, the jungle will become sovereign again, and
+then the pair of tiny birds will flee. Not for them are the
+dark silences, the tall sombre trunks. Their jubilant little
+souls crave light and companionship. Many of the birds of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_308"></a>[308]</span>
+the tropical jungle have sweet single notes and calls—but
+most have harsh primitive voices. All are characterized by
+a solemnity or plaintiveness of tone, and none that I can
+recall have the joyful theme which fills the song of this little
+pioneer from more civilized regions; a song which is out
+of place away from mankind. Their sweetness has touched
+the heart of the native Guianans, who call these Wrens
+God-birds.</p>
+
+<p>It is nine o’clock, cloudy and cool, and I am sitting near
+the old hut and write on a trunk fallen across the trail. A
+shuffling of feet comes to my ears and soon a good-sized opossum,
+but smaller than ours of the north, trots swiftly toward
+me. Not until he gets within arm’s reach does he realize
+that something is wrong. I sit as immovable as stone and
+he puts a grimy little hand on the very edge of this journal.
+His nose works furiously, his rat-like beady eyes fairly bulge.
+Then he turns, just as I grab at his tail, but his hind claws
+scratch my arm so severely that I loose him, and he flees back
+on his trail—rolling awkwardly along but making remarkably
+good time. He was probably on his way home after an
+early morning’s hunt. Thus the jungle folk have already
+begun to close in on this deserted clearing.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later as I am kneeling quietly some six feet from
+the log, busy liberating a beautiful little butterfly from the
+tangle of a spider’s web, I am surprised to see the same
+opossum trot past. I know him because he has a kink
+in one ear. To see what the little fellow would do I leap
+toward him, but he has encountered me once and come to no
+harm, so he will not be turned back again. Instead of dodging
+me, the opossum only increases his speed, crosses the
+log, drops out of sight among the bushes, snorts twice to
+himself, and is swallowed up forever by the dark jungle.
+This log is apparently his regular highway, and he chooses
+to risk my apparently fierce onslaught and to run over the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_309"></a>[309]</span>
+opened journal, bag, hat and gun, rather than change to a
+new path along another tree trunk a few feet farther along
+the trail.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">We mortals sometimes have faint hints of coming events,
+and as I was leaving the clearing I instinctively kept all my
+senses on the alert. I had proceeded only a few yards into
+the jungle when some of the sweetest flute-like notes I have
+ever heard came from a patch of underbrush ahead. What
+could it be! I knew that no human being could whistle
+like that, and when they were repeated I realized how coarse
+any flute would sound in comparison. Nothing in this world
+but a bird could utter such wonderful notes. My memory
+recalled descriptions of the Quadrille-bird<span class="bird"><a href="#bird125">125</a></span> and I knew I
+was at last listening to it.</p>
+
+<p>Our northern ravines have their Hermit Thrush; the canyons
+of Mexico are transfigured by the melody of the Solitaire
+and here in the deepest, darkest jungles in the world arises
+the spirit of the forest in song—the hymn of the Necklaced
+Jungle Wren. Dropping everything which would impede
+my progress, I crawled slowly and silently over the soft mould
+until I was close to the patch of thick brush. Then I waited
+and prayed, and the gods of the Naturalist were good, and a
+little brown form flitted up to a low branch and from the
+feathered throat came the incomparable tones of the fairy
+flute. The bird sang a phrase (I) of six to ten notes at a time.
+This was repeated several times, when an entirely new theme
+(II) was begun, which was given only once, then a third (III)
+and fourth were tried. Each note was distinct, and of the
+sweetest, most silvery character imaginable. In all but two
+phrases the invariable end consisted of two notes exactly an
+octave apart, the last like an ethereal harmonic. Twice the
+tones were loud and penetrating, twice they came so faintly
+that one’s ear could hardly disentangle them from the silence.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_310"></a>[310]</span></p>
+
+<p>Birds with scale-like songs are far from uncommon: in
+the north the Field Sparrow; in Mexico the Canyon Wren;
+here the Woodhewers, but this was wholly new, phrase after
+phrase each differing from the preceding. How I longed
+for a phonograph! I scrawled a staff on a bit of paper and
+pin-pricked the notes where they seemed to come and reproduce
+them here. But what a parody they are, be they
+whistled or played!</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="music4" style="max-width: 28.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="music/music4.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption x-ebookmaker-drop"><p>[<a href="music/music4.mp3">Listen</a>] | [<a href="music/music4.mxl">MusicXML</a>]</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="music5" style="max-width: 28.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="music/music5.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption x-ebookmaker-drop"><p>[<a href="music/music5.mp3">Listen</a>] | [<a href="music/music5.mxl">MusicXML</a>]</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="music6" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="music/music6.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption x-ebookmaker-drop"><p>[<a href="music/music6.mp3">Listen</a>] | [<a href="music/music6.mxl">MusicXML</a>]</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The Necklaced Jungle Wren,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird125">125</a></span> or Quadrille-bird as the
+natives know it, is a true Wren barely four inches in length,
+brown above, with a black collar spangled with white. The
+face, throat and breast are rich rufous, with the lower parts
+pale brown. This is the singer. The song no man may
+describe!</p>
+
+<p>A small deer sprang up at my left, and I had walked some
+distance in that direction when I suddenly realized that I had
+missed the trail, and had been following an imaginary opening
+through the jungle. On closer examination this proved
+to be a deer trail leading to a small spring of clear water. I
+will never forget the first thought of terror at being lost in
+this endless forest. In one direction a few miles away lay
+the bungalow; in the opposite direction one might wander
+for weeks without meeting even an Indian. As this thought
+came I espied a little scarab beetle resting in the hollow of
+a leaf, who, as I looked, climbed slowly to the rim, wriggled
+his antennæ and took to wing. What a wonderful power of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_311"></a>[311]</span>
+scent it was which was directing him straight as a magnet,
+to some far distant bit of decaying flesh, and with what marvellous
+vision the Vulture high overhead spied me and hung
+for a moment watching me through a break in the foliage!
+How dull and inefficient seemed all my organs of sense in
+such a crisis as this. For a few moments I devoted myself
+to discovering which was north, and from which direction
+I had come. The cloudy sky and the sameness of all the
+vistas through the jungle completely foiled me, and I had to
+give it up and ignominiously unravel my puzzle deliberately
+and unromantically. I stuck my long-handled butterfly
+net in the ground and began to describe circles about it—widening
+them gradually, until on the third round I intersected
+the trail and went on my way.</p>
+
+<p>The danger of being lost is by no means an imaginary one,
+and even with a compass it is sometimes difficult to retrace
+one’s tracks. The Indians themselves have to guard against
+becoming confused when in a new region. Before I reached
+the main trail, and met the returning party, I saw a number
+of the exquisite White-capped Manakins,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird109">109</a></span> clad in shining
+black save for their snowy caps. Their flight, unlike their
+white-breasted cousins which we met in Venezuela, was
+noiseless. They were far from silent however, twanging
+their little vocal chords in an apology for a song—a wheezy,
+grasshopper-like buzz. The females were silent, sombre
+little beings—dull olive green above, with a grayish cap
+and paler below.</p>
+
+<p>After lunch at one o’clock in the afternoon, I started out
+again and climbed to the summit of a densely forested hill,
+southeast of the mine clearing. The tree-tops were filled
+with birds and not for a moment was I entirely out of sight
+or sound of one or more species. A few yards from the clearing
+I followed up an excited cackling and found a pair of
+splendid Red-crested Woodpeckers.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird88">88</a></span> They had a nest in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_312"></a>[312]</span>
+a tall dead stub and were trying to dislodge an iguana which
+was steadily crawling up a neighboring branch. A moment
+after I came into sight one of them struck the lizard with
+its wings, whereupon the iguana reared up and lunged with
+open mouth, the birds then ceasing their attack upon the
+inoffensive saurian.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp53" id="figure131" style="max-width: 26.5625em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure131.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 131. Agouti.</span> (Photo by Sanborn.)</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>What splendid birds the Woodpeckers are—strong, active,
+full of vitality and enthusiasm over life. These were big fellows,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_313"></a>[313]</span>
+black above, variegated on shoulders and head with
+white; thickly barred below and with a long crest of blazing
+scarlet. They spent much of their time near the bungalow,
+and when they drummed steadily their scarlet head-plumes
+seemed a living flaming haze.</p>
+
+<p>Near the summit of the hill a tall Silverballi had been felled
+and sawed by hand into boards. This had made a small
+clearing like the one I visited yesterday. The trees were
+filled with many species of birds attracted by the abundant
+insect life, some of which I knew and made notes upon,
+while most were unknown to me. A group of tiny feathered
+beings was busy catching midges near the top of one of the
+highest trees, their sharp <i>cheeps!</i> coming faintly down to me.
+Hopeless of ever observing them at closer range, I secured
+one and found it to be a Buff-tailed Tyrantlet.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird107">107</a></span> This waif
+of the upper air was less than three and a half inches in length
+with rather unusual coloring, the fore part of the body gray,
+the back, wings, lower breast and tail rufous. Its claim to
+the Flycatcher family was proved by the broad beak and
+remarkably long bristles. One must have an aëroplane or,
+more practically, an observing station in the tree-tops to study
+these and a hundred other interesting birds at close range.
+With a couple of hundred spikes as a ladder, I intend some
+day to make one of these mighty trees give up many of its
+secrets.</p>
+
+<p>As I was about to seat myself on the ground beyond the
+clearing, a big Guan<span class="bird"><a href="#bird5">5</a></span> or Maroodie, as we learned to call it
+here, arose with a loud cackling cry and a rush of wings.
+Simultaneously a dark-colored animal slipped into a hole
+freshly excavated some twenty feet away.</p>
+
+<p>I lay prone, waiting for some other unexpected manifestation
+of life, but all was quiet. Then I prepared to watch for
+the reappearance of the unknown burrowing creature, and
+pressed my face close among the ferns where I could just see<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_314"></a>[314]</span>
+the entrance. A minute passed and directly across my line
+of vision, a few inches away from my face, crawled, as rapidly
+as it could move, a very large caterpillar almost four inches
+in length. Never have I seen a more remarkable looking
+one. Its ground color was a peculiar dark wine-red or purple,
+like the plumage of the Pompadour Cotinga. From the
+sides of the back projected brush-like tufts of red and black
+hair, while a continuous line of dense golden hair extended
+out from the body just above the feet. Over six segments
+was drawn a pale yellow pattern of the most delicate lace-like
+markings, a dainty network different on each segment.
+Altogether it was a wondrous creature and entirely put the
+burrowing mammal out of mind.</p>
+
+<p>I carried it to our improvised laboratory on the veranda
+of the bungalow, but it refused food of all description, and
+day by day became smaller in size and duller in color. Instead
+of dying, it transformed one night into a large, beautiful
+chrysalid, yellow-green with a pale bloom over the surface.
+It was an inch and a half in length, thick-set in the centre
+and tapering rapidly. The joint between the fifth and sixth
+segments was hinged and the terminal portion would swing
+vigorously from side to side. The spiracle on the sixth
+segment was cream colored and much longer than the others,
+while the bottom of the chrysalid ended in two short, brownish
+spines. Seventeen days later in Georgetown, a beautiful
+orange-shaded Morpho butterfly emerged. I looked it up
+in a curious old volume, “The Insects of Suriname” by
+Madame Merriam, written many years ago, and found it was
+a rare insect, <i>Morpho metellus</i>, light orange on the fore-wings,
+shading toward the body into pale green and on the hinder
+wings to velvety black. From tip to tip it spreads six inches.</p>
+
+<p>On this tramp I heard at least a dozen unusually loud or
+musical calls and whistles, new to me, which I could not trace
+to their authors. In one case, however, I was successful.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_315"></a>[315]</span>
+Creeping up to a low, thick patch of brush, a splendid scarlet
+bird flew out and alighted twenty yards away, again giving
+utterance to its characteristic loud whistle. To-day I was
+contented with listening and watching, but later I secured
+the bird as I could not otherwise identify it. It was what I
+have christened the Black-headed Scarlet Grosbeak,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird134">134</a></span> differing
+from the description of this species in being 8⅜ instead of
+7½ inches in length. It was scarlet below, dull red above,
+with a scarlet necklace and a jet black head and throat. A
+yellowish female showed herself for only a moment. The
+whistle was loud and penetrating, but sweet in quality. The
+first theme had three distinct phrases which may be represented
+thus:</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="birdsong1" style="max-width: 18.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/birdsong1.jpg" alt="">
+</figure>
+
+<p>The second consisted of three scales, the first ascending one
+being more abrupt than the succeeding ones, thus:</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="birdsong2" style="max-width: 23.4375em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/birdsong2.jpg" alt="">
+</figure>
+
+<p>When the first bird ceased, another took up the whistle as
+long as I remained near the place. What splendid birds
+these would be in an aviary, striking both in color and notes.
+The nest, eggs and young, as is the case with so many South
+American birds, are unknown.</p>
+
+<p>Goldbirds<span class="bird"><a href="#bird115">115</a></span> were calling all through the woods, and
+when one paid close attention, considerable variation was
+apparent in their notes. One individual uttered the <i>wheé!
+wheé! o!</i> twice in quick succession with the two introductory
+phrases (<i>vide</i> <a href="#Page_189">page 189</a>) only before the first call. This was
+repeated three times and then the bird reverted to the usual
+single utterance. On my way home two agoutis sprang up
+before me and I secured one for the general mess.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_316"></a>[316]</span></p>
+
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.<br>
+<span class="smaller">JUNGLE LIFE AT AREMU.<br>
+SOME PAGES FROM MY DIARY (<i>continued</i>).<br>
+(<i>By C. William Beebe.</i>)</span></h3>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>For our supply of meat we depended altogether upon
+the efforts of an Indian hunter who made daily excursions
+from the clearing after game, and who never failed to
+come back heavily laden with some one of eight or ten
+varieties of edible birds or mammals. He was an Arrawak,
+going by the name of Francis, his real Indian name being of
+course never revealed. Like most of the Indians we met,
+he was quiet, serious and taciturn, but I had the good fortune
+early to win his approbation and to satisfy him that, while my
+hunting clothes were no match for his copper-colored skin
+in stalking animals, yet I could manage to get through the
+woods without any great noise or bustle. The only personal
+information I could obtain from him was that he was born on
+the upper Mazaruni, had a brother and two sisters and was
+“’bout four hand” (twenty) years old. He got fifty cents a
+day and his food for hunting and slept in a tiny hammock
+swung beneath the bungalow floor. The Indian hunter at
+Hoorie was paid sixty-eight cents a day without rations.</p>
+
+<p>Francis and I had some interesting tramps together and
+one of my most enjoyable memories of these great tropical
+jungles is of this little red-man, short, well-built, muscular and
+absolutely tireless. I found him to be a great help in searching
+for certain rare birds and animals, and I learned a good
+deal of jungle craft from him. As one example among many<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_317"></a>[317]</span>
+things, I noticed that he never stepped on a log or fallen tree,
+and it was not until I had crashed through and hurt my ankle
+on one which had been undermined by ants that I realized how
+excellent a rule this was. A log of apparently the hardest
+wood might be but a shell thin as paper. The facility with
+which Francis found his way about in rain as well as sunshine
+was a puzzle, until by careful watching I found he was constantly
+making new trails by breaking, in the direction of the
+trail, tiny twigs, the leaves of which were of a slightly different
+color beneath. Such a mark every fifteen or twenty feet
+was almost a hopeless clue for me at first, although ultimately
+I learned to discover them more readily. As the breaking
+made no noise and was accomplished by the least motion of
+the hand, it was long before I detected it. When I went out
+alone I chose to leave a “blaze” every <i>ten</i> feet!</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">March</span> 30th.—At daybreak we started out on our first
+tramp, I with camera, bag, gun and glasses. Half a mile
+from the clearing I cached the camera and bag, the pace being
+such that I could not keep up while carrying them. I have
+hunted in Canada and elsewhere with first-rate guides and
+backwoodsmen, but this was a very different matter. From
+the moment we entered the jungle the whole demeanor of
+Francis was changed. He walked like a cat and <i>never for a
+moment</i> relaxed his vigilance, and therein he differed from a
+white man, who would unconsciously relax when he thought
+game was still some distance away. His figure slipped silently
+on ahead of me, flowing under trunks, passing around the
+densest clumps of underbrush, while I followed and imitated
+as best I could, learning every minute more than I had ever
+known of the art of effacing oneself in the wilderness. Every
+step was made carefully and the entire field of view ahead
+swept, and every significant sound noted. A branch would
+fall with a series of resounding crashes and the Indian would
+apparently not hear it, while a cracking twig or a low rustle<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_318"></a>[318]</span>
+which I could scarcely detect would lead him off in an entirely
+new direction, not necessarily toward the sound, but often
+to flank it or get to leeward of it. During the first two or
+three hours we would give our whole attention to hunting,
+but when the day’s supply was provided, we then stalked the
+birds and wild creatures and watched them, as closely as we
+could.</p>
+
+<p>Our first tramp was in a general south or southeast direction,
+passing over a succession of hills, five in all, three of
+which were high and quite steep, but all of about the same
+diameter with regular slopes and flat, narrow valleys. These
+were mostly swampy, or if dry had a stream flowing slowly
+along the middle. Agoutis were abundant in such places and
+we could always depend on obtaining them when desired.</p>
+
+<p>As we left the bungalow I had laughingly asked Mrs.
+Wilshire what meat she desired for dinner and she said
+“Venison.” So when I told Francis, in the broken English
+which we must use in talking to these Indians, that we must
+get deer, he nodded and disdained the agoutis. If I had
+said, “Francis, we must be sure to get deer to-day in preference
+to other game,” he would have understood not a
+word. But “Shoot-um deer, eh? no accourie, no labba, no
+maipurie,” outlined the day’s work perfectly in his mind. I
+was rather reluctant to use this <i>um! ugh!</i> language at first;
+it savored too much of theatrical Indian dialect or of
+“penny dreadful” wild-west jargon, but it soon became
+perfectly natural and was really necessary.</p>
+
+<p>After a half-hour’s walk Francis motioned me to take the
+greatest care, and pressed my shoulder lower until I was
+almost on my knees while we slowly crept around a great
+mora trunk. He pointed steadily ahead, but after a three-minute
+scrutiny I could discern not a sign of life. Then he
+raised his gun and fired, and set loose a half dozen feathered
+bombs, or so it sounded as a flock of nearly full-grown<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_319"></a>[319]</span>
+Guiana Crested Tinamou<span class="bird"><a href="#bird2">2</a></span> arose with a roar. I secured
+one with a quick snap shot and we tied up the brace of birds
+with a slender tough bush-thread. Fastening head, feet and
+wings together, the Indian tied them ingeniously around his
+waist, the birds hanging down behind out of the way.</p>
+
+<p>At the sound of the guns three tiny male Purple-throated
+Euphonias<span class="bird"><a href="#bird138">138</a></span> clad in purple jackets, yellow caps and waistcoats,
+came down to see what the noise was about. They
+were ridiculously tame and sang their simple chattering song
+in our very faces.</p>
+
+<p>In the fourth valley we found a perfect maze of agouti
+tracks mingled with the fresh imprint of a tapir’s feet.
+Francis showed me the spot where he had shot one of these
+“bush-cows” the week before. A few yards beyond we
+found a deer’s track and in some way the Indian seemed
+to know that the animal was close at hand. We crawled
+silently for twenty or thirty yards through a shallow creek,
+then separated and crept along the slope, one on each side.
+A sudden rustling of vines came from a bend in the stream
+and we both caught sight of the bright rufous flanks of a deer.
+We secured it and then for some reason Francis remained
+perfectly quiet for five minutes while a delightful bit of
+wilderness life appeared close to me.</p>
+
+<p>The smoke from my gun was still clinging to the great fern
+fronds overhead, when a second deer, a doe, walked fearlessly
+past along the opposite slope, stopping to nibble at a leaf
+now and then, and at last vanished in the underbrush. I
+was about to climb down to the deer we had shot when I
+heard a splash and a weak little bleat, and, looking at a pool
+ahead, there I spied the tiniest of fawns standing in the
+shallows, looking full at me, and now then splashing the
+water.</p>
+
+<p>I whistled and the little thing started toward me fearlessly,
+standing knee-deep in the water, its tiny rufous form decorated<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_320"></a>[320]</span>
+with three lines of spots, every one of which was perfectly
+reflected in the water. Suddenly with a snort and a stamp the
+mother took one leap over a bush, her eyes staring in terror
+at me, then turned and vanished. In some way she had
+infused the spirit of fear into her offspring, for with a bleat
+which was almost a shriek the little fellow galloped madly,
+awkwardly after her, tripping every few steps as he turned
+his head to see if this awful thing was pursuing. I never
+saw such an instantaneous change from confidence to fear
+in any creature. The most remarkable thing was that the
+mother and fawn had not taken fright at the roar of the guns
+in their very ears. The very loudness and proximity must
+have had a numbing effect on the organs of hearing. I
+found that Francis had seen the second deer after shooting at
+the first, and had lain flat while she walked so near him, that,
+as he showed me by her tracks, he could have reached out
+his hand and touched her as she passed.</p>
+
+<p>We know but little of the deer of this region, and I took
+some notes on this first Savanna Deer (<i>Odocoileus savannarum</i>)
+which we obtained for the mess. It was a male
+without horns, and of a uniform rich rufous above with
+grayish-brown head, and the legs up to the hock mouse-color.
+The tip and under side of the tail and inner thighs
+were white, while the rufous color was continuous around
+the breast and belly. The deer stood 24½ inches high at the
+shoulder and weighed 70 pounds. It had been feeding on
+leaves and on a great number of seeds of the Kakaralli tree,
+much like the mora. The seeds look like nutmeg in the
+mace, and two grow in each husk.</p>
+
+<p>The skill and rapidity with which Francis prepared the
+animal for carrying was remarkable. He removed eight-foot
+strips of bark from a small tree which he called Mahoo
+and stripped off the tough pliable inner layer. With this he
+bound the legs and head together, then tied a broad band of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_321"></a>[321]</span>
+bark about the body leaving it loose at the top. I hoisted up
+the deer and he put his arms and shoulders through the
+tied legs as if it had been a pack bag and slipped the loose
+band of bark across his forehead, like the tump-lines of the
+Canadian Indians.</p>
+
+<p>A gentle cool breeze was blowing down the narrow valley
+and the blood from cleaning the animal had not been exposed
+five minutes when a line of burying beetles and yellow wasps
+began coming up-wind to the feast. Such a summons calls
+them far and wide from their vantage points on leaves and
+branches, where we see them so frequently in walking through
+the jungle. Before fifteen minutes had passed, an Orange-headed
+Vulture<span class="bird"><a href="#bird52">52</a></span> appeared soaring over the little opening
+in ever lessening circles. He too had responded, but as
+much by sight as by scent, to the welcome meal.</p>
+
+<p>On the way home we frightened a group of large weasel-like
+creatures which we found to be Tayras (<i>Galictis barbara</i>)
+or, as the natives call them, Hackas. Seven ran rapidly
+away snarling and I secured one. They had been feeding
+on big grubs which they had nosed out among the dead
+leaves, a rather remarkable occupation for creatures of the
+fierce Mustelidæ family. The fur was dark-brown with a
+white spot on the breast, while the tail was long and bushy.</p>
+
+<p>Before we reached the clearing a Quadrille Bird<span class="bird"><a href="#bird125">125</a></span> sang
+to us from the heart of a tangled swamp, a new theme differing
+from any I had heard:</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="music7" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="music/music7.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption x-ebookmaker-drop"><p>[<a href="music/music7.mp3">Listen</a>] | [<a href="music/music7.mxl">MusicXML</a>]</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>During the four mile walk to the clearing there was hardly
+a minute when we were out of sight or sound of birds. Big
+Blue Tinamou<span class="bird"><a href="#bird1">1</a></span> and Jacupeba Guans<span class="bird"><a href="#bird5">5</a></span> boomed up before
+us; Woodpeckers and Manakins of several species called<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_322"></a>[322]</span>
+and flew here and there, while we passed flock after flock
+of Antbirds, Woodhewers, Flycatchers and Tanagers. One
+bird which I secured, the Wallace Olive Manakin,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird112">112</a></span> was altogether
+of a dull olive, with none of the brilliant color patches
+of its congeners. When I went to pick up the specimen I
+saw a curious jointed band lying across it and found a six-inch
+centipede on the bird. The Manakin must have fallen
+across the path of the Myriapod as it was crawling over the
+jungle floor. While wrapping up this bird, a flock of tiny
+Brown-fronted Jungle Vireos<span class="bird"><a href="#bird128a">128a</a></span> flew close to us, uttering a
+song like a diminutive alarm clock, <i>Whirrrrrrrrrrr-chee!
+Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrr-chee!</i> Francis shot one, which was hardly more
+than four inches in length, olive-green above, paler below.
+Those who think that all tropical birds are brightly colored
+should see the great number of species of sober little fellows
+like these.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">March</span> 31st.—Francis and I started out in a light rain
+at daybreak in search of Trumpeters and howling monkeys.
+The cook was well supplied with meat so we did not intend
+to bother with game. With the help of Goeldi’s plates of
+Brazilian birds and much crude attempt at sketching I had
+taught Francis what creatures I wished especially to see.</p>
+
+<p>About three hundred yards from the clearing Francis
+pointed out a beautiful nest of a White-throated Robin<span class="bird"><a href="#bird127">127</a></span>
+made of green, growing moss, and placed close to the trunk
+of a tree, about six feet from the ground. We marked the
+spot and went on, but a day or two later I returned and
+examined it more carefully. This Thrush is olive brown
+above, pale below with a streaked chin and throat like our
+northern Robin. Its most characteristic mark, however, is a
+patch of pure white on the upper breast, which flashes out
+like a star among the shadows of the jungle. The parent was
+shy and would slip off at my approach, but return as silently
+if I walked away for a minute. When I prepared to photograph<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_323"></a>[323]</span>
+the nest she thought something was seriously wrong
+and voiced her alarm with a sharp <i>cut! cut!</i> When I focussed
+close to her home, her anger got the better of her and she
+scolded me roundly with harsh notes, repeated in phrases of
+seven, <i>chack-chack-chack-chack-chack-chack-chack!</i></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp88" id="figure132" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure132.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 132. Nest and Eggs of White-throated Robin.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The nest touched the trunk of the tree, but rested on a
+loop of a two-inch bush rope or liana, which swung against
+the bark, binding one tree to another. Just below was a
+fungoid excrescence larger than the nest itself. The nest
+was a double one, the new one being built directly on the
+older. The latter was composed of dry dead moss, while the
+new one was fresh and green. There were two eggs, pale
+blue-green, thickly spotted with brown of various shades,
+much more densely at the larger end.</p>
+
+<p>We found this Robin was a common breeder hereabouts
+and discovered four other nests, all within a half mile of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_324"></a>[324]</span>
+the clearing, yet all in deep jungle. The parents differed
+radically in their actions; two allowing us to inspect their
+treasures without fear, while two others became terrified
+if we approached within twenty feet of their nest.</p>
+
+<p>To return to our Trumpeter and howling monkey hunt;
+it rained much of the morning, but for the most part only
+a drizzle. Francis said that wet weather made bad hunting
+except for deer and bush-cow or tapir, chiefly because
+the continual noise made by the falling rain-drops made
+it difficult to hear the rustlings of birds and animals.</p>
+
+<p>I thoroughly enjoyed this new aspect of the jungle world.
+As usual small birds were fairly abundant, of which apparently
+99 per cent. were Antbirds or Woodhewers. The
+most common Antbird in the valleys was the Scaly-backed,
+slate-colored except for the feathers of the back, wings
+and tail which were black tipped with white. At one place
+two dozen of these little birds must have been in sight, uttering
+sharp, snapping calls, and clinging, like Marsh Wrens,
+to upright stems in the low underbrush.</p>
+
+<p>Every now and then we came across a good-sized hole
+with fresh earth thrown out at the entrance. Francis said
+that this was made by a “Yāsee” and he recognized an
+armadillo when I drew it.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly the rain came down in sheets, and streamed
+through the dense foliage. Francis gave me his gun, ran to
+a tooroo palm, a species which has no stem but sends its
+leaves, fern-like, from a base level with the earth. He cut
+off five stalks with as many blows of his knife, brought them
+to me and stuck them upright in the fork of a low branch.
+We stood under them for half an hour and never a drop
+came through, although three inches out in any direction
+the rain was falling in torrents. It was a wonderful example
+of a waterproof shelter put up in about thirty seconds. Can
+we blame these Indians for a general lack of industry, when<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_325"></a>[325]</span>
+game is as easy to obtain as we found it, and when one
+may build a house in a half a minute with a few knife
+strokes!</p>
+
+<p>During the entire downpour we saw only a Long-tailed
+Hummingbird<span class="bird"><a href="#bird75">75</a></span> which unconcernedly searched the undersides
+of leaves for insects. Francis said its nest was hung
+on the side of the tip of a tooroo frond. A fluted tree of
+large size near us he called ballicusan, saying it was used
+for making paddles like ruruli. A section
+would look something like this:</p>
+
+<figure class="figright illowp56" id="figure133" style="max-width: 9.375em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure133.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 133. Section of Paddle-wood Tree.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The folds when cut off are so thin that
+a very little additional shaping forms them
+into blades.</p>
+
+<p>As we were walking along after the
+shower, several twigs fell on us, which
+would have been unnoticed by me, as
+leaves and even branches are continually
+dropping in these forests. But Francis
+looked up at once and whispering “Baboon” pointed
+to where a great male red howler (<i>Mycetes seniculus</i>)
+was walking slowly along a branch overhead. A carefully
+aimed shot brought it to earth, stone dead. It
+was a magnificent specimen weighing just twenty pounds
+and the hyoid bone protruded like an exaggerated Adam’s
+apple.<a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[I]</a></p>
+
+<p>These howling monkeys are of course not really baboons,
+as these latter monkeys live only in the Old World and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_326"></a>[326]</span>
+have short tails; while the howlers are members of the
+American family Cebidæ.</p>
+
+<p>They are of a low type of intelligence and will not live
+long in captivity, being morose and sullen, very unlike other
+smaller South American primates. The hyoid bones in the
+throat are enlarged to form a great thin-walled bony
+drum, which is the chief instrument in the production of
+their wonderful voice.</p>
+
+<p>There were two females and a smaller male in this party,
+but I got no clear sight of the others after I shot the old one.
+As in the case of the deer, tiny burying beetles began coming
+within two minutes after the blood of the baboon had been
+splashed on the leaves. We had walked for ten or fifteen
+minutes after shooting the monkey when we heard an infantile
+roar from the remaining male. This the old one would
+never have allowed, so we had an interesting example of the
+almost immediate usurping of the leadership by a young
+animal, at the death of presumably its parent.</p>
+
+<p>Francis had remarkable eyesight, and when he once realized
+that I was interested in small birds and other objects
+he would silently point out everything in our path. In this
+way I found a remarkable frog which was so protected by
+its color and markings that I should never have discovered it
+by myself. I have mentioned it before as being of good
+size, earthern brown in color, with a tall, thin leaf-like ridge
+on the head over each eye and a row of light-grey tubercles
+like fringe down each side of the body. From the tip of the
+nose to the tail extended a narrow, pale bluish line and externally
+there seemed to be almost no differentiation between
+head and body.</p>
+
+<p>I heard Red-billed Toucans<span class="bird"><a href="#bird81">81</a></span> calling in a high tree and
+stalking them, succeeded in shooting two, both males, one
+younger than the other. The coloring of their beaks was
+wonderfully brilliant and variegated. Their notes were of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_327"></a>[327]</span>
+the Robin-song type, <i>Phéo-pha!</i> although the resemblance to
+a puppy’s voice was also strong. They had been feeding on
+seeds with a pinkish pulp which Francis called suluwafaddy.</p>
+
+<p>There were three Toucans in this group and when the first
+old bird was shot the others returned and called continuously
+and loudly. The third also came back to the same tree and
+I found that this was the adult female.</p>
+
+<p>In this case as always, I did not take the life of a living
+creature without some good reason: for sport, never—but
+either as food, or as in this instance as the only way to solve
+a problem of scientific interest. I had noticed trios of Toucans
+in many places and wondered whether the third bird
+was an extra female or young. On the following day I
+observed no fewer than five separate trios of Toucans of two
+species, and now that I knew the dull-colored upper tail-coverts
+were a clue to the young bird of the year, my high
+power stereo glasses showed me a single young in each instance.
+We know practically nothing of the nesting habits of this
+group except from vague accounts. So it is certain that in
+this region the rule is that only one young bird is reared
+to maturity.</p>
+
+<p>The loud hollow whirring of the wings of these birds often
+drew our eyes up to the tree-tops and we had many opportunities
+of watching them feed. The commonest way was
+for them to creep out as far as they dared to the branch
+tips and then crane their necks and bills to reach the fruit.
+But often they adopted a more spectacular method. A trio
+would beat heavily into a berry-laden tree and perch quietly
+a few moments, looking carefully in all directions for danger,
+overhead for hawks and eagles, beneath and around for
+monkeys, opossums and snakes. Then one would launch
+out, make a flying leap at a pendent cluster of fruit, clutch
+it frantically with its feet, and dangle and sway for ten seconds
+at a time—reaching out the while and filling its bill with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_328"></a>[328]</span>
+the berries. Then when the bird dropped exhausted to a
+branch below, it would swallow what it had gathered.</p>
+
+<p>After shooting the Toucans I leaned my gun against a
+patch of black moss on a tree trunk. To my astonishment
+the moss whirled outward and back, and then I saw it was a
+host of caterpillars crowded as densely as they could be in
+a patch three feet high and forming a semicircle about the
+six-inch trunk. They were covered with black, branched,
+stinging hairs, with two longer tufted ones on the segments
+near the head. As Francis said, “Um wurrum’s hairs bite
+hard!”</p>
+
+<p>I began experimenting with their reaction motions. I
+found that any <i>sst</i> sound or hiss, the snapping of fingers,
+whistling, hand clapping, or pounding on the metal or wood
+of my gun, caused absolutely no response on the part of the
+caterpillars. No matter how close to the creatures or how
+loud or sudden was the sound, unless they were touched they
+did not move. On the contrary, any utterance of such sounds
+as <i>bis!</i> <i>bow!</i> <i>bing!</i> <i>buzz!</i> even when so low as hardly to rise
+above a whisper, caused every caterpillar of the many hundreds
+to react as one. The head with the long tufted appendage
+was jerked quickly backward, then down, and on the
+edges of the mass from side to side. Those in the centre,
+because of their position, had only the up and down flick.
+The effect as a whole was indescribable. An inconspicuous
+growth of moss was transformed like a flash into a seething,
+rearing mass of waving caterpillars. A suggestion, altogether
+theoretical, is that the reaction to the buzzy sounds may
+hint that the chief danger feared by these caterpillars is
+the fatal buzz of the wings of the ichneumon fly.</p>
+
+<p>This evening we added baboon and bill-bird to our venison,
+and were surprised to find the former tender and by no
+means devoid of taste. The Toucans were tough, but more
+than one of us came back for a second helping of “howler”—in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_329"></a>[329]</span>
+spite of the cannibalistic chaff with which we were
+regaled!</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp52" id="figure134" style="max-width: 21.875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure134.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 134. Phonetic Caterpillars.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The rain had increased in amount successively during the
+last three days and to-night a new sound was added to our
+nocturnal chorus—the Bubbling or Gurgling Frogs, which,
+by the score, vented their joyful emotions in energetic gulps
+from the jungle at the edge of the clearing.</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">April</span> 1st.—Having missed finding Trumpeters yesterday,
+Francis promised them for to-day and we took a long tramp
+full of incident as usual. We circled to the north, swinging<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_330"></a>[330]</span>
+around beyond the first two valleys and then turning and
+describing a second curve intersecting the first. Two of the
+Jungle Wrens or Quadrille Birds<span class="bird"><a href="#bird125">125</a></span> sang their incomparable
+strains, each with a theme of its own. The first had two
+phrases which it uttered alternately, thus;</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="music8" style="max-width: 56.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="music/music8.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption x-ebookmaker-drop"><p>[<a href="music/music8.mp3">Listen</a>] | [<a href="music/music8.mxl">MusicXML</a>]</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>There is absolutely no other bird song with which to compare
+it. The timbre, when heard at a distance, is that of the
+Wood Thrush quality—sweet, liquid and altogether ethereal.
+But the distinctness of the notes and their remarkably intricate
+trios and gradations are wholly unique. Three or four
+large species of Antbirds ran rapidly here and there, holding
+their short tails erect and jerking them frequently, thus
+presenting a decidedly ralline appearance.</p>
+
+<p>We saw several Little Tinamous<span class="bird"><a href="#bird3">3</a></span> in the course of the
+day, one of which I shot. When the cook cleaned it in the
+evening, he found an egg about to be laid. Several days
+later a short distance from the clearing, a bird of this species
+was flushed from a slight hollow between the buttresses of a
+mora. The following day when the bird flew from the same
+spot it was found that an egg had been deposited. It was of
+a burnished purple color and was 35 × 45 mm. in size. Although
+we knew that the egg had been laid less than twenty-four
+hours before, yet it contained an embryo corresponding
+to a four day chick. This fact, in the case of these generalized
+birds, may have some significance when we remember the
+advanced state of embryonic development characterizing the
+newly laid eggs of many reptiles.</p>
+
+<p>After an hour or more of the most careful stalking in a
+low swampy valley, we heard the unmistakable thunderings
+of Trumpeters<span class="bird"><a href="#bird25">25</a></span> or Warracabras, and my blood leaped in
+response. Long before I could hear them, Francis had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_331"></a>[331]</span>
+distinguished the low booming note amid all the other jungle
+sounds. I had studied specimens for months in the north and
+had searched in vain for any definite account of their habits.
+And now, although the briefness of my stay would permit of
+almost no chance for real investigation, yet here at any rate
+were the birds themselves in their native haunts. At last we
+flushed two which flew down from their perch with a sudden
+whirr of wings and ran swiftly out of sight. As they flew
+they uttered the familiar <i>Chack! chack!</i></p>
+
+<p>These interesting birds have no near relations, but form
+a Sub-order by themselves. They run very swiftly but seldom
+use their wings, and although they swim quite well,
+rivers of any size are never crossed. Large flocks are sometimes
+met with, but the birds travel more often in small
+parties. They feed on the ground and roost in the tall trees.
+The voice has many variations but the sound from which the
+name is derived is very loud and sonorous, and can be heard
+at a great distance. Trumpeters are very common pets
+among the Indians, to whom they become greatly attached,
+and although given full liberty in the midst of the dense bush
+they never attempt to return to their former homes. When
+standing upright, the Trumpeter reaches a height of from
+18 to 20 inches. The head and neck are black and covered
+with soft velvety feathers, about a quarter of an inch in length,
+and slightly recurved. On the upper part of the breast and
+the lower part of the neck a purplish iridescence appears on
+the feathers while the rest of the plumage is entirely black,
+with the exception of a brownish band across the back, and
+the grayish plume-like secondaries. The tail is very soft
+and does not exceed four inches in length and is indeed
+hidden by the wing feathers.</p>
+
+<p>I made careful inquiry concerning the nesting of the
+Common Trumpeter. So-called biographers have credited
+it with nesting on the ground or in a hole high up a tree; of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_332"></a>[332]</span>
+laying from two to ten or more eggs, which in the words of the
+describers are white, dirty-white, or green!</p>
+
+<p>I questioned Francis at various times and could never
+get him to vary his answers. He said that the Trumpeter
+nested in the hollow of a tree and laid three, four or five
+white eggs.</p>
+
+<p>On another occasion I questioned the Indian who hunted
+for Mr. Nicholson at Matope and he said the Warracabra
+builds a nest of leaves well up in a tree and lays five white
+eggs.</p>
+
+<p>While waiting for the Trumpeters we heard the strange
+Bare-headed Cotinga<span class="bird"><a href="#bird117">117</a></span> or Calf-bird. The note has been
+compared to the lowing of a cow, but to me it seemed much
+more musical resembling the humming of a goblet when
+one’s moistened finger is rubbed around the rim. The
+bird is yellowish brown with a bare head and keeps to the
+tops of the trees. It is not shy however and can easily be
+approached and watched with the glass.</p>
+
+<p>The most interesting discovery I made to-day was the
+elaborate courtship and challenge performance of the Crested
+Curassow.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird4">4</a></span> In a low bit of valley with thick underbrush
+we put up a deer which dashed off before we could catch
+more than a glimpse of it. It was followed by two agoutis,
+one of which we gathered in for dinner. The note of alarm
+of these rodents is a loud nasal <i>Wăăăăh!</i> Then Francis
+clutched my arm and by listening intently I could just hear a
+faint low mumbling. It might have been a bumble bee a few
+feet away, but the Indian pointed to the east and said “Powies—Warracabras!
+Me go shootum labba.” Which very
+plainly meant that there were Curassows and Trumpeters
+near me and that he would leave me to stalk and study them,
+while he went to secure a toothsome paca for dinner.</p>
+
+<p>I cached my gun, in fact everything but my glasses, and
+began creeping as silently as possible down the course of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_333"></a>[333]</span>
+the little valley. Francis, quietly amused, smiled as I tied
+my handkerchief tenderfoot fashion to my gun; expressing
+quite as much as a multitude of chaffing remarks could have
+done.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp78" id="figure135-136" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure135-136.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">First Phase of Curassow Strutting, a Slow Walk with Raised Tail.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fig. 135.</span> Rear view. <span class="spacer">Fig. 136. Side view.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Foot by foot I pushed through or crawled under fallen
+trees and tangled vines and tree-ferns, close to the hot steaming
+forest mould, with the low distant booming becoming
+ever more distinct. The ventriloquial quality completely
+deceived me, and long after I thought to see the performer I
+went on and on for many yards. At last I turned to the
+south to gain the shelter of a great fallen tree which had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_334"></a>[334]</span>
+begun to merge its rotten wood with the débris of the jungle
+floor. I shall never forget pushing aside a mass of beautiful
+green orchids and slipping into a great hollow made by a
+second tree which had fallen athwart the first. Just beyond
+were three Crested Curassows,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird4">4</a></span> a male and two females,
+the latter busy scratching among the dead leaves, while
+the male was devoting himself to a most remarkable performance.<a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[J]</a></p>
+
+<p>The splendid bird walks slowly up and down the clear
+space which he has chosen. The entire body is tilted far
+forward, the breast low and the wings pointing down in
+front, the wrist portion, or shoulder as it is often wrongly
+called, dropping almost to the ground. The wing tips lie flat
+upon the back, and the tail is raised, while the head is held
+high, almost touching the back and tips of the wings. The
+tail, carrying out the line of the back, points straight upward,
+and the white belly, flanks and especially the under tail-coverts
+are fluffed out to their greatest extent, forming a most
+conspicuous white mark against the black of the remaining
+plumage. (<a href="#figure135-136">Fig. 135.</a>)</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp92" id="figure137" style="max-width: 25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure137.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Second Phase of Curassow Strutting.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fig. 137.</span> Standing with Pebble in Beak, striking the Head against
+the Back.</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Now from a tree near by comes a low penetrating moan
+or muffled boom. The bird in front of me at once changes
+his whole demeanor. He continues his walking but it
+assumes more of a mincing character, uttering all the
+while several notes, like low but shrill squeaks or gurgles,
+mingled with snorts and snores, all rather subdued. These<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_335"></a>[335]</span>
+seem rather hit or miss, there being no regular sequence or
+similarity of the utterances. Several times these sounds are
+interrupted by the bird stopping, appearing to pick up
+something, and then to dash its head violently against its
+back, producing a low champing sound which seems to
+excite the females, who otherwise are wholly indifferent.
+Try as I may I can make nothing of this action, and later it
+is an indiscreet, impatient movement of mine at such a
+juncture that ultimately frightens the birds and ends my
+observations. I was delighted therefore when observing the
+Curassow in the north to see the bird repeatedly pick up pebbles
+or a feather or twig and champ them in its bill just as
+the wild bird did. The clicking sound resulted only when a
+hard object was picked up, but the dull thuds were made
+by the skull of the bird striking violently against its dorsal<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_336"></a>[336]</span>
+vertebræ, the object it had picked up being held meanwhile
+in its bill. (<a href="#figure137">Fig. 137.</a>)</p>
+
+<p>The wild Curassow soon drops whatever it has picked up
+and claps its wings together seven or eight times over its
+back, making a loud slapping sound. It then turns its back
+on its rival in the tree, plucks nervously at the wings, right
+and left, for a full minute or longer, and then reaches convulsively
+forward several times, with its head and neck, the
+bill being wide open, gulping in a great quantity of air. Its
+abdominal air-sacs swell, its wings are lowered and rounded
+out until the bird appears half as large again as usual. Thus
+it stands, half squatting with lowered head and tail, and
+within a period of five to ten seconds utters usually four notes
+of the deepest and most penetrating character. Now that I
+am within a few yards, they sound no louder than when several
+hundred yards away. The exertion put forth shows this
+vocal effort to be a strenuous one, and at the second performance
+the tones are rather low and confused. But the normal
+utterance, this climax of the whole challenge, is as follows:</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="music9" style="max-width: 37.5em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="music/music9.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption x-ebookmaker-drop"><p>[<a href="music/music9.mp3">Listen</a>] | [<a href="music/music9.mxl">MusicXML</a>]</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>This may be imitated by anyone with a deep bass voice by
+humming the syllables <i>Um, um, um-um-um</i>, to the notes
+as I have written them.</p>
+
+<p>During this period the actor, as observed in the captive
+specimen, seems almost in a trance, standing with half closed
+eyes, oblivious even of a hand resting on the feathers of his
+back, and the recovery is slow, the bird seeming dazed for a
+short time.</p>
+
+<p>As I lay concealed in the Guiana forest, the whole performance
+was repeated five times in twelve minutes, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_337"></a>[337]</span>
+Curassow appearing most excited after it had finished the
+challenge call. It frequently ran to the hens and walked
+about them, while the captive bird which I observed paid no
+attention to the hens, but showed off to human visitors and
+devoted himself to attacks upon their footwear.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp92" id="figure138" style="max-width: 25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure138.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Third Phase of Curassow Strutting.</span></p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Fig. 138.</span> Back turned, Wings lowered, Air-sacs inflated, uttering
+the penetrating Challenge Call.</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>No part of the performance was ever omitted. Invariably
+he turned his back on his rival or observer, invariably he
+first walked and snorted, then champed and clapped his
+wings, and finally sent out his challenge. As I have said, one
+may closely imitate this call, and the birds, as I learned on
+another occasion, will respond to repeated calls and come
+within shooting distance.</p>
+
+<p>Taken altogether, the performance was a most delightful
+insight into the lives of these little known birds, and the
+complexity and intricate succession of the various maneuvres
+was remarkable. As I have said, at one of the pebble champing
+periods I become so interested that I made a noise and the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_338"></a>[338]</span>
+three birds rose at once and whirred away, while I retraced
+my steps. I returned as carefully as possible and encountered
+a troup of small monkeys which passed close overhead,
+sending down a rain of dead twigs. They apparently have
+the habit of breaking off twigs when they are progressing
+leisurely, as I observed this same unnecessary amount of
+falling twigs and branches on several other occasions. When
+thus engaged they make a great racket, uttering now and
+then plaintive, inarticulate sounds. When once they spy
+you beneath them a sudden chorus arises like the greatly
+exaggerated swearing of a red squirrel, and off they go
+rapidly, silently, with not a sound of breaking branches.</p>
+
+<p>Finding a good point of vantage not far from my gun and
+bag, I waited for Francis, squatting—coolie fashion—out
+of respect to the bête rouge which were numerous and enthusiastic
+at this point! I sat there five minutes and not a
+moment was devoid of interest. I accidentally snapped a
+stick, and like an electric spark came a sharp <i>zizz!</i> at my
+very elbow. I jumped as if an electric shock had indeed
+accompanied it, and then broke another stick. Again the
+<i>zizz!</i> snapped in answer, and close to my resting place I
+discovered a “Six o’clock Bee,” as the natives call these
+giant cicadas (<i>Cicada grossa</i>). Like the Curassow, he was
+on the <i>qui vive</i> for rivals and ready with his challenge. As
+often as I snapped a stick, he whirred out an answer.</p>
+
+<p>A pair of Blue-and-yellow Macaws<span class="bird"><a href="#bird61">61</a></span> screamed. When
+heard in the distance, all harshness is eliminated from
+their voices, and an extremely human quality of sound is
+acquired, as of one person calling in a high tone to another.
+A Green Cassique<span class="bird"><a href="#bird150">150</a></span> whirred overhead, tolled his cow-bell
+and strutted with slow elaborateness. Suddenly a pair of
+Trumpeters<span class="bird"><a href="#bird25">25</a></span> came into view, but saw me at the same instant,
+and with loud <i>chacks!</i> fled in all haste. Going on to
+our meeting place I almost stepped on Francis, who had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_339"></a>[339]</span>
+been, quietly watching me and resting after having returned
+with a load of game.</p>
+
+<p>We struck the broken twig trail on which we secured the
+old howling monkey yesterday, and a few hundred yards
+from the spot we heard the young male roaring. He had
+improved wonderfully on his falsetto yell of yesterday, and
+except for a general weakness of volume and an occasional
+break and tendency to get out of breath, he made a good
+showing in the vocal gymnastics of his race. Twice after
+this we ran across the youngster and each time he was howling,
+but entirely alone. He had not yet secured a mate and his
+mother and aunt had apparently deserted him upon his
+assumption of leadership!</p>
+
+<p>A half-hour’s walk close to the clearing this afternoon
+revealed birds everywhere in flocks, passing leisurely. Small
+Woodpeckers were tapping, Woodhewers picking and prying,
+Antbirds peering under leaves and twigs, and the Flycatchers
+audibly snapping up insects in mid-air. The jungle
+was filled with dee-dee-dees, chirps, chacks, low mewings
+and whistles, while a rain of falling leaves, ripe berries, dead
+twigs and bits of bark marked the progress of the flocks. I
+shot a number of birds which were new to me, one of which
+I could not find until after ten minutes’ search. When I
+discovered it, a line of ants five yards long had formed and
+it was covered with their bodies. So swiftly do tropical
+scavengers work!</p>
+
+<p>I secured a Wedge-billed Pygmy Woodhewer<span class="bird"><a href="#bird96">96</a></span> with its
+single young one, which must have left the nest that very
+day. Curiously enough, the latter perched as often as it
+clung to the tree-trunks, and keeping this in mind I found
+that the measurements of the two birds were very interesting.
+There was almost no difference between the length of the
+wings and beaks of parent and young, but the tail of the
+young bird was only 1⁷⁄₁₆ inches in length as compared with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_340"></a>[340]</span>
+4¾ inches in the adult. From this it appears that the climbing
+habit is not developed as early in the young Woodhewer
+as in Woodpeckers, in which it seems instinctive from
+the first.</p>
+
+<p>Resting my camera for a moment against the buttress of
+a giant mora, a small brown bird flew out and I recognized
+another Wedge-billed Pygmy Woodhewer.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird96">96</a></span> It flew to a
+sapling and peered at me around the side. When I did not
+move away it came nearer and voiced its disapproval by a
+five-syllabled cry, <i>chik-chik-chik-chik-chik!</i> This made me
+suspicious and peering down a narrow crevice formed by a
+deep fold in the buttress I caught a glint of white, and finally
+made out three eggs, one of which seemed to be freshly broken.
+A safer or cosier place could not be imagined. The crevice
+was eighteen inches deep and only two inches wide, with the
+opening of the fold almost closed by a small dangling bush
+rope. The nest itself was only two feet above the ground.
+The eggs were pure white and were laid on a thin net-work
+of rootlets and fibres resting on the black mould which had
+collected in the crevice. The following day it took me two
+hours of hard work, cutting and sawing, to reach the nest,
+and when Milady spooned up nest and eggs, four good-sized
+scorpions came with them, unpleasant guests I should think!
+There were two eggs in the nest and a broken one on the
+ground outside which the parent had removed the night
+before. This egg had probably been broken by the hurried
+flight of the parent on the preceding day. The eggs were a
+broad oval in shape, dull white and both measured 20 by
+16 mm.</p>
+
+<p>Four other pairs of birds were nesting on this side of the
+clearing, Yellow-winged Honey Creepers,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird136">136</a></span> Jungle Wrens,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird125">125</a></span>
+two pair of White-throated Robins,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird127">127</a></span> and a Guiana Quail
+or Douraquara.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird8">8</a></span> This last I found wholly by accident as I
+was watching a dragon-fly which had been injured by a small<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_341"></a>[341]</span>
+Flycatcher. Good-sized pieces were bitten out of the two
+hind wings and one of the others was doubled and broken.
+Yet the brave little insect was far from giving up and managed
+to fly slowly, albeit with a heavy slant to one side, the loose
+wing making a whizzing sound as it vibrated. I followed
+to see its ultimate fate. As it passed the end of a log a green
+lizard leaped from a leaf and seized the unfortunate insect
+in mid-air, thus typifying the <i>anlaga</i> of bird flight. The
+lizard fell full length upon a rounded pile of dead leaves and
+like a bomb there shot forth the whirring form of the Quail,
+which scaled off between the trees.</p>
+
+<p>We found the Douraquara<span class="bird"><a href="#bird8">8</a></span> had rocketted from a tunnel
+about a foot in length, made of twigs and dead leaves, which
+led to a round hidden nest cavity containing four white eggs,
+one of which was broken. On the following day the Quail
+had removed all trace of broken egg and shell. So completely
+was the nest a part of the jungle floor that never
+except by accident would we have discovered it.</p>
+
+<p>Day after day, on every tramp we took we were more and
+more impressed with the myriad examples of protective form
+and coloration. As I have said before, it is the immense
+variety rather than the exactness of detail which makes these
+resemblances so effective. I became so confused at times that
+repeatedly I would net a falling leaf or blossom or even fire
+at an imaginary bird, or on the other hand fail altogether to
+notice some rare bird or insect until I passed on some distance
+and happened to turn around. For instance, while walking
+along I saw something drift down and catch on a leaf. I
+thought to myself, this is surely an insect, although a most
+remarkable mimic. Then I bent over and examined it
+closely, lifting the branch close to my eyes, and decided it
+was nothing but a dead leaf, half curled and shrivelled up.
+As I turned away I swooped at it idly with my net and lo!
+it took to flight and cost me several yards of hard pursuit<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_342"></a>[342]</span>
+before I secured it again. The irregularity of its wings,
+their leaf-brown color edged with a line of yellow, and the
+remarkable drifting flight in full sunshine, all helped to deceive
+me. It was a moth, <i>Gonodonta pyrgo</i>.</p>
+
+<p>The Goldbirds,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird115">115</a></span> although the size of large Thrushes, are
+absolutely indistinguishable in their garb of dull brown in
+the shadowy mid-forest, neither descending to the ground nor
+ascending to the sun-lit tree-tops.</p>
+
+<p>Almost as common as the piercing <i>wheé! wheé! o!</i> of the
+Goldbirds was a less loud but penetrating <i>Chuckle-de-deé!</i>
+which we heard almost as soon as we entered the shadows
+of the jungle. Three days of intermittent search passed
+before we discovered the author of this omnipresent sound.
+The note seemed to come from the tree-tops and we unconsciously
+held in mind a bird at least the size of the Goldbird.
+Imagine our surprise when, after searching the branches with
+aching necks, we finally detected the bird in the very act,
+finding it perched only about ten feet above our heads.
+It was a veritable mite of a bird, the Golden-crowned Manakin<span class="bird"><a href="#bird110">110</a></span>
+clad in forest green with a tiny crown spot of yellow.
+From head to tail he measured less than three inches, and of
+all the marvels which we have encountered in our travels
+the most remarkable was how such a tiny creature, considerably
+smaller than our Ruby-crowned Kinglet, could
+produce such a tremendous volume of sound. His <i>Chuckle-de-deé!</i>
+can easily be heard a hundred yards away through
+dense forest.</p>
+
+<p>Once identified it was an easy matter to locate these little
+Manakins. They loved the deep, damper parts of the woods
+and were ridiculously tame, perching quietly and calling
+continuously when one walked around within arm’s reach.
+We discovered the nest of one of these birds a short distance
+from the mine clearing in a sapling about seven feet from the
+ground, a very frail affair suspended in the fork of a branch.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_343"></a>[343]</span>
+It was merely a thin cup of fine bush threads and rootlets,
+while two or three small leaves were fastened to the bottom
+with strands of cobweb. One could see through it anywhere.
+It was only 1¾ inches across and ¾ of an inch deep
+inside the cup.</p>
+
+<p>The bird was on the nest and refused to leave until we
+lifted her off and photographed her. Then she flew and
+chuckle-de-deed with all her little power!</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="figure139" style="max-width: 21.875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure139.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 139. Golden-crowned Manakin lifted from Nest.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>While insects were far from rare in the jungle itself, they
+were present in myriads in the little fallen-tree clearings.
+Blue Morphos flashed in and out of the thickets, while white-spotted,
+clicking ones, snapped back and forth. In the
+darker recesses the transparent Ghost Butterflies flew
+silently and almost invisibly, while Heliconias threaded the
+vines. Giant bees buzzed past now and then. One which
+I caught was an inch and a half long with tremendously<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_344"></a>[344]</span>
+thick and hairy hind legs, an orange collar across the front
+of the thorax and an equally broad band of yellow on the
+abdomen (<i>Centis americana</i>).</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure140" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure140.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 140. Young Dusky Parrots.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Among the most interesting birds which we found nesting
+were Dusky Parrots.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird66">66</a></span> About one hundred yards from the
+clearing we observed two red-breasted Parrots fly from a
+hole about forty feet up in a tall dead kakeralli tree. We
+watched the tree, morning and afternoon for several days,
+often for an hour at a time, but neither saw nor heard anything
+of the birds. Fearing that we had been deceived in thinking
+they were nesting we had a black cut down the tree, but no
+sooner had the dust settled from the débris of rotten wood
+than a chorus of raucous cries arose, and four young Parrots,
+nearly fledged, were gathered into a hat.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_345"></a>[345]</span></p>
+
+<p>The quartet showed an interesting sequence of growth,
+there being several days’ difference between each one. The
+youngest was clad only in quill-like blood feathers; number
+two had the scapulars, part of the crown, the breast and a
+half inch of the tail feathers out of the sheath. Number three
+was pretty well feathered except for face, throat, under
+wings and sides, while number four was to all intents and
+purposes a real Parrot! The way in which the old birds kept
+hidden was remarkable.</p>
+
+<p>One day Milady and I started out with only the lay of the
+land and a compass for guide and walked straight toward
+that unknown region lying to the northwest. A whole
+chapter could be written of our observations on that single
+tramp, but I shall keep our notes for a future work on the
+natural history of this region and add to this already too
+lengthy account only a few paragraphs.</p>
+
+<p>We saw many Lavender Jays<span class="bird"><a href="#bird161">161</a></span> restless and numerous,
+yet curious to know what manner of beings we were. Their
+alarm note <i>Keeeow!</i> accompanied us for a long distance.
+Later in the morning we spent some time watching a dense
+line of parasol ants. They were as gay as Fifth Avenue on
+Easter Sunday, being laden with the purple and white blossoms
+of some forest tree. The broad wavering banners
+interspersed with those insects which bore stamens and
+pistils lance-like, presented a most humanly comical appearance.
+The tiny creatures are so serious and in such a hurry
+and yet look so tipsy and political, that one never tires of
+watching them.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_346"></a>[346]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp53" id="figure141" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure141.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 141. Early Morning in the Wilderness.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_347"></a>[347]</span></p>
+
+<p>Black clouds and a high wind overtook us and we walked
+rapidly on, looking for some sort of shelter, he were lucky
+enough to discover a huge tree, hollow, even to the centre
+of the buttresses and this we made our headquarters during
+the storm. From each of four natural windows we watched
+the jungle life during the rain. A small patch of the black
+caterpillars was near by on a light-barked tree, all reacting
+or not according to whether we ejaculated <i>sst!</i> or <i>buzz!</i> As
+before they were very conspicuous and made no attempt at
+concealment, although at a distance they resembled a black
+knot-hole on the trunk. But their rôle was evidently to
+depend on their threatening actions and their even more
+reliable stinging hairs.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp52" id="figure142" style="max-width: 21.875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure142.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 142. Indian Hunter bringing in a Peccary.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>On the very floor of our shelter a tragedy was enacted. A
+small wasp (<i>Notogonia</i> sp.) less than an inch in length with
+a splash of gilt on thorax and head, dashed upon a brown<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_348"></a>[348]</span>
+cricket (<i>Gryllus argentinus</i>) more than twice its size, and stung
+it. Then the wasp left its prey and ran off about eight inches
+to a round hole which it had excavated in the black wood
+mould. Back to the cricket again it came, turned it right
+side up, seized it by the head and began to drag it along.
+Although I can hardly credit the wasp with the conscious
+intention, yet its sting had certainly been delivered in exactly
+the right spot. The whole cricket was paralyzed except
+for the two front pair of legs. The motor nerves of these
+were unaffected and they kept up a convulsive pulling and
+pushing which aided the wasp greatly in its difficult task.
+Indeed the wasp did little but straddle its prey and steer, while
+the cricket pushed itself along.</p>
+
+<p>Just before the latter disappeared still kicking into the
+hole, the wasp stung it again and laid a small curved white
+egg on one of the hind legs of the cricket. The hole was just
+the right bore to admit the body of the victim and was six
+inches deep.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as the sun came out, huge metallic Buprestid
+beetles boomed about the trunk and the Woodhewers began
+their sweet scale-songs, and close over our heads a tiny
+Golden-crowned Manakin<span class="bird"><a href="#bird110">110</a></span> joined in with his <i>Chuckle-de-deé!</i>,
+the effort almost lifting him from his perch.</p>
+
+<p class="tb">In offering these notes on the jungle life about the Aremu
+clearing, I have purposely refrained from classifying them, as
+I wished the reader to realize how, in this region of superabundant
+life, events crowd in upon one—insect, bird,
+flower, animal—without apparent rhyme or reason. Yet they
+really pass in splendid sequence, the key to which lies in the
+ultimate relation of each to the other. Some day, if we do not
+delay until the destroying hand of man is laid over this whole
+region, we may hope partially to disentangle the web. Then,
+instead of a seeming tangle of unconnected events, all will be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_349"></a>[349]</span>
+seen in their real perspective: The flower adapted to the
+insect; the insect hiding from this or that enemy; the bird
+showing off its beauties to its mate, or searching for its
+particular food. These things can never be learned in a
+museum or zoölogical park, or by naming a million more
+species of organisms. We must ourselves live among the
+creatures of the jungle, and watch them day after day,
+hoping for the clue as to the <i>why</i>—the everlasting <i>why</i> of
+form and color, action and life.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_350"></a>[350]</span></p>
+
+<h3 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.<br>
+<span class="smaller">THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS.<br>
+(<i>By C. William Beebe</i>).</span></h3>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>We had made two successful expeditions into the jungle
+or “bush” of Guiana, and now our third and last trip
+was to be in the open savanna region in the eastern portion of
+the Colony, near the coast. The first resident American to
+welcome us to British Guiana was Mr. Lindley Vinton who,
+with Mrs. Vinton, did all in their power to make our stay
+in Georgetown a pleasant one. Their house was made our
+home and certainly no strangers in a strange land were ever
+made more welcome than were we.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Vinton is a living refutation of the statement that
+continued residence in the tropics invariably results in loss
+of energy, for seldom, even in our own virile country, can one
+find a man more full of vitality. At the time of our visit
+he was interested in several large concessions, one of which
+was a rice growing proposition on the Abary River.</p>
+
+<p>When he promised “Canje Pheasants,” or Hoatzins<span class="bird"><a href="#bird11">11</a></span> in
+his back yard, and thousands of Ducks flying past every day,
+we smiled as we remembered the Hoatzins in the depths of the
+Venezuelan mangroves. But, exaggerated as we believed
+his enthusiastic reports to be, we were glad indeed to accept
+his invitation to spend a week at the bungalow on the rice
+plantation. We ultimately found that he had actually
+understated the conditions of bird life on the Abary!</p>
+
+<p>On April 12th, Milady and I took the funny little compartment
+train for Abary Bridge, or, as our ticket read, Belladrum,
+which we reached at 9.30 after a two hours’ slow ride.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_351"></a>[351]</span></p>
+
+<p>The land along the coast is all flat savanna, dotted for
+the first half of the journey with tumbled down coolie huts
+and tiny dyked fields of pale green young rice. Later for
+some distance these give place to large groves of cocoanuts.
+On the left, stretch the seawall dykes, relics of Dutch industry,
+perfected by the English.</p>
+
+<p>Throughout the entire journey, hundreds, sometimes
+thousands of birds were in sight, often for several miles in
+succession; but as exactly similar scenes were later visible
+and at closer range on our up-river trip, I will not repeat
+myself.</p>
+
+<p>The train was stopped for our benefit at the bridge across
+the so-called Abary River, which proved to be a little stream
+only about a hundred and twenty-five feet wide. Loading
+our luggage and ourselves into a fussy little launch we
+chugged up-river for three hours.</p>
+
+<p>Along the right bank—the leeward—for most of the distance,
+grew an irregular fringe of bushes and low trees. Beyond,
+almost to the horizon, stretched the vast savanna,
+covered with reeds, rushes and tall coarse grass, each a pure
+culture in its place of occurrence.</p>
+
+<p>Scattered over this great expanse were myriads of birds
+of many species, the only other visible living creatures being
+a small herd of half-wild cattle here and there.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_352"></a>[352]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure143" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure143.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 143. American Egret on the Abary River Savanna.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_353"></a>[353]</span></p>
+
+<p>For the first few miles two species predominated—as they
+had almost all the way from Georgetown—the Little Yellow-headed<span class="bird"><a href="#bird154">154</a></span>
+and the Red-breasted Blackbirds.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird155">155</a></span> Few more
+beautiful sights can be imagined than a cloud of these birds
+rising ahead of the train or launch, and scattering far and
+wide over and through the reeds. The general color of both
+is a rich black, which itself contrasts strongly with the green
+of the savanna. But when we add to this the brilliant yellow
+head and neck of the former and the scarlet throats,
+breasts and wing edges of the latter, the color scheme is one
+which is never forgotten. The two species would rise in
+distinct flocks, perhaps six or eight hundred of each, flow up
+and over the tall grass in two living waves of scarlet and gold,
+and then intermingle, the rain of red and yellow sparks being
+gradually quenched by the green expanse, as the birds settled
+among the shelter of the reeds. Of course these flocks
+were composed only of those individuals close to the track or
+the river bank. How many myriads were scattered over the
+savanna we shall never know. We must have flushed a great
+many thousand of these two species in the course of the day,
+and scattered among them were a few Guiana Meadow
+larks<span class="bird"><a href="#bird157">157</a></span> looking much like our northern birds.</p>
+
+<p>Every few dozen yards over the savanna, a tall white figure
+stood motionless, silently watching us—American Egrets<span class="bird"><a href="#bird32">32</a></span>
+distributed for their day’s fishing, hundreds dotting the marsh,
+each solitary, statuesque. Among them was a sprinkling of
+Wood Ibises<span class="bird"><a href="#bird28">28</a></span> and beautiful Cocoi Herons.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird31">31</a></span> These latter
+were much shyer than the others and all within a hundred
+yards of us would take to flight as we passed, leaving their
+more fearless comrade-fishers in full possession.</p>
+
+<p>All these Herons soon became a common sight, and we
+swept mile after mile of savanna with our glasses, seeing nothing
+but the white birds dotted everywhere. At last we were
+rewarded, and a giant white Stork came into sight, towering
+above the Herons, with black head and neck, and the sun
+reflected from the distended scarlet skin of the lower neck.
+The bill had the faintest of tilts upward and we knew we
+were looking for the first time at a living Jabiru,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird30">30</a></span> the biggest
+and perhaps the rarest wading bird of our continent. It
+stands fully five feet in height and the spread of the wings is
+about eight feet.</p>
+
+<p>Soon another appeared a half mile farther on, and a third,
+and before our journey’s end we had seen at least a dozen
+of these splendid birds. We have but one or two meagre<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_354"></a>[354]</span>
+descriptions of its nesting and I therefore have included
+among the illustrations a most interesting one taken by Dr.
+Bingham, showing a Jabiru on its nest together with its
+two half-grown young. These birds do not nest on the
+Guiana savanna but retire at the rainy season far into
+the interior.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure144" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure144.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 144. Nest and Young of Jabiru.</span> (Photo by Bingham.)</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Spur-winged Jacanas<span class="bird"><a href="#bird23">23</a></span> in loud cackling pairs were everywhere,
+showing conspicuously against the green reeds—dark
+chocolate when at rest and flashing pale yellow in flight.
+Guiana Cormorants<span class="bird"><a href="#bird47">47</a></span> and Snakebirds<span class="bird"><a href="#bird48">48</a></span> rose or dived ahead
+of the launch, twenty of the former taking refuge in one small
+tree as we passed.</p>
+
+<p>Hawks were abundant and one of the most numerous was
+the Cream-headed Hawk,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird54">54</a></span> which soared low over the savanna<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_355"></a>[355]</span>
+or perched on the shrubs along the bank. Small birds
+showed no fear of it, often alighting in the same tree. From
+almost every bush along the river bank little Guiana Green
+Herons<span class="bird"><a href="#bird38">38</a></span> flew up from their nests, built close to the surface
+of the water. These herons “froze” like Bitterns when
+they alighted, standing motionless with the bills at an angle
+of 45°. Along the railroad they were semi-domesticated,
+flying fearlessly in and out of the coolie yards, and snatching
+bits of food from the very door-ways of the huts.</p>
+
+<p>About eleven o’clock, on rounding a sharp turn in the
+river, we saw what appeared to be great expanses of burnt
+marsh. On and on we went and at last we realized that we
+were looking at vast phalanxes of Ducks. Suddenly, without
+warning, a living sheet of birds rolled up from the ground,
+hung a moment, then gained momentum and wheeled upward.
+Thousands began to rise at once, until for fifty or a hundred
+yards on each side of the river, there was an almost
+unbroken wave of birds, flying upward and backward.
+From this mass of life, giving forth a medley of shrill whistles
+which soon deepened into a perfect roar of wings, single lines
+of ducks detached themselves, shooting out in all directions,
+passing up and across the river, or right and left out over the
+savanna. They were Gray-necked Tree-ducks<span class="bird"><a href="#bird45">45</a></span> with a plentiful
+scattering of the Rufous<span class="bird"><a href="#bird44">44</a></span> and a very few White-faced.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird46">46</a></span>
+The great curving wave never ceased for a moment as we
+approached, but widened and thickened and wheeled over
+and behind us until the sky was pitted with their bodies.
+I took picture after picture with my Graflex, the ground
+glass reflecting a myriad of swiftly moving forms.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Ducks which had first arisen, having flown in a
+great circle over the savanna, returned, and intersecting the
+newly arisen host, formed a crisscrossing maze which carpeted
+the heavens with a close warp and woof of living birds. Even
+in Mexico, where we had watched the vast flocks of Ducks
+and Geese on Lake Chapala, there was nothing to equal
+this. The Ducks looked dark against the sunlight but
+whenever they veered, the white wing-bands flashed like
+mirrors.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_356"></a>[356]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure145" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure145.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 145. Gray-necked Tree-ducks rising From the Savanna.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_357"></a>[357]</span></p>
+
+<p>We counted the birds in one short line near us and found
+there were four hundred and twenty individuals. No one
+could count those in even one of the flocks but there must
+have been at least twenty thousand in the first phalanx we
+encountered.</p>
+
+<p>As we passed on, many hundreds settled again on their
+feeding grounds, where nothing was visible of them save a
+myriad heads and necks, stretched high and watching us
+curiously. As many others however flew far away, the dense
+matted flocks fraying out into long single or double lines,
+some of which must have been a half mile in length.</p>
+
+<p>In this region these birds are Tree-ducks only in name, as
+later in the year hundreds of eggs will be found scattered over
+the savanna, and sooner or later the flocks will dissolve into
+pairs, each to nest on some low hummock in the marsh.</p>
+
+<p>These Ducks never settle on the open water of the river
+on account of the many dangers swimming beneath, of which
+more anon. They sleep and feed and nest among the thick
+growth of reeds and grass of the savanna itself.</p>
+
+<p>After passing the second main body of Tree-ducks we
+now and then heard a louder whistle of wings, and a
+family flock of four or five great black Muscovy Ducks<span class="bird"><a href="#bird43">43</a></span>
+would rush past; the leader, the drake, being almost twice
+the size of the members of his harum.</p>
+
+<p>Small birds were not much in evidence from the launch,
+although Anis<span class="bird"><a href="#bird80">80</a></span> were abundant, fluttering awkwardly among
+the bushes, and the big Kiskadees<span class="bird"><a href="#bird101">101</a></span> were nesting about every
+hundred yards. This was the first time in the Colony that we
+had seen these latter birds nesting away from human habitations,
+so this open savanna region would appear to be their<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_358"></a>[358]</span>
+natural home, while the other yellow Tyrants frequent
+wooded river banks.</p>
+
+<p>At one o’clock we came in sight of a barn-like shelter in
+which was housed a huge steam traction plough, and radiating
+out across the savanna were the lines of dykes which
+marked the great fields intended for rice planting.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp84" id="figure146" style="max-width: 28.125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure146.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 146. Our Bungalow on Abary Island.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>A few minutes more of steaming brought us to a landing
+place on a small island, with the bungalow in the centre.
+This islet and in fact this whole region has an interesting
+history. All this savanna was once a densely wooded jungle
+of mora trees, eta palms and other growth. In 1837 a drought
+occurred of such extent that all the vegetation—trees, palms
+and underbrush—became dry as chips. The inevitable followed
+and a fire started in some way which swept this whole<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_359"></a>[359]</span>
+region, reaching in places even to the Demerara. Then floods
+came, broke through the loosened barrier of tangled roots, and
+infiltrated through the soil. Grass and reeds took the place
+of the great moras, and now, almost to the horizon, stretches
+the flat, open expanse of marsh. Indeed it is only to the west
+that trees are visible, where two miles away “eta bush”
+begins. In the tops of these palms the black Muscovy
+Ducks make their homes, feeding out on the marsh and bringing
+down their young—so it is reported—in their beaks.</p>
+
+<p>Sixty years ago or thereabouts, many runaway slaves fled
+into the interior, most of them hiding in the recesses of the
+“bush” or high woods. These lived either with the Indians,
+in many cases intermarrying with them, or founded settlements
+by themselves. Some of these unfortunate blacks, however,
+made their way up the Abary and when they had come thus far—eighteen
+miles—finding no habitable land they set to work
+to make an island.</p>
+
+<p>In the midst of this then (as practically now) unexplored
+region, these desperate men toiled at the black muck of the
+river edge, scooped it up and packed it on the foundation
+of reeds until a more or less dry island of about five acres had
+been formed. Here to-day we found a low mound of rich
+black mould, with nine good-sized isolated trees, several
+cocoanut palms and a few bananas. Corn planted here
+grows with wonderful rapidity.</p>
+
+<p>The long occupancy and numerous inhabitants of the
+islet is attested by the thousands of pieces of pottery with
+which the ground is covered. On some I found a rude
+attempt at decoration, and the shape of the rims and handles
+were much like the primitive African art of to-day. There
+was probably a low hummock or mound as the nucleus for
+the island, and four or five feet beneath the surface several
+Indian stone axes have been unearthed—telling of still earlier
+human habitation—perhaps in the days of the jungle.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_360"></a>[360]</span></p>
+
+<p>Here we had planned to spend a week, but were prevented
+by an accident from remaining more than three days, but
+even in the short space of thirty-six hours of daylight we
+learned much of the life on and about this islet.</p>
+
+<p>Our two other trips had been to tiny islands of cleared
+ground in the midst of a sea of the densest jungle; here we
+were marooned in the shade of a little isolated group of trees
+on a diminutive hillock of earth, bounded in all directions by
+an impenetrable marsh. If one so much as took a single
+step from the island, it was into three feet or more of water
+and tangled reeds, too dense to push a boat through. During
+the rainy season boats can be poled through, and at the
+dry season firmer footing is possible, but our visit was at a
+time betwixt and between. I have made a small rough plan
+of our domain on the Abary, <a href="#figure147">Fig. 147</a>.</p>
+
+<p>The river was at this point only about seventy-five feet
+in width, flowing almost due south. As we ascended it, a
+narrow inlet became visible in the right bank, which led into
+a good-sized lagoon about as wide as the river, which had
+probably been formed by the excavation of the marsh. This
+lagoon bounded the north and part of the east sides of the
+island. The prevailing wind was from the east and this
+probably accounted for the line of small trees and bushes
+being almost altogether on the western bank.</p>
+
+<p>We were welcomed at the bungalow by Mr. Harry, the
+young American engineer in charge, who, without the ornate
+phrases of Spanish hospitality, but in the simple American
+manner, put the bungalow and everything at the plantation
+at our disposal.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_361"></a>[361]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure147" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure147.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 147. Map of Abary Island.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_362"></a>[362]</span></p>
+
+<p>Nothing more different from what we encountered in the
+bush can be imagined. There, no sunlight save what sifts
+down through the tall trees; here, a blaze of light from
+horizon to horizon: there, hosts of living creatures, but as a
+rule single individuals of a species or in pairs; here, unnumbered
+hosts in flocks of many thousands of the same species.
+It was a wonderland guarded by stern guardians; teeming
+with life on land, in the air and in the water. Not a moment
+of the day, or for that matter, of the night was free from sight
+or sound of some of these interesting creatures.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure148" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure148.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 148. Abary River, showing High Growth on West Bank.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>First as to the guardians. The sun we found to be a most
+terrible menace on the quiet open waters, and an exposure
+of an hour would have resulted in most painful blisters, and
+these in the tropics are of more serious moment than in the
+north. With broad-brimmed hats, however, there was no
+danger.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_363"></a>[363]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure149" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure149.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 149. Spider Lily near Abary Island.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_364"></a>[364]</span></p>
+
+<p>The day, even out on the marsh itself, was comparatively
+free from insects, but at 5.30 a few mosquitoes appear. By
+6 o’clock one would call them numerous, and between 6.30
+and 7.30 they are legion and ferocious. One cannot sit
+still unprotected for a moment at a time. After 7.30 they
+all disappear, especially when there is a light wind, but at
+nine o’clock they are present in full numbers again. We
+slept the first night, or rather lay down, on cots with nets.
+The mosquitoes, or most of them, could apparently easily
+make their way through the mesh, but when swollen with
+blood failed to escape again. We slept but little, kept awake
+by the biting and humming of the wretches.</p>
+
+<p>From daybreak when we arose until about nine o’clock
+sand flies held high revel, biting severely, after which all the
+insect pests vanished and one could decide to postpone
+suicide until the coming night! After this however we
+used close cloth nets, which defeated the efforts of the
+mosquitoes.</p>
+
+<p>We found so much to interest us on and in the immediate
+vicinity of the islet that we made no extended trips either up
+or down the river. In the three days we lived there we
+observed the following fifty species of birds, nineteen of
+which (marked with asterisks) were nesting on the islet or
+within a few yards of it:</p>
+
+<ul>
+<li>Red-underwing Dove (<i>Leptoptila rufaxilla</i>).</li>
+<li>* Hoatzin (<i>Opisthocomus hoazin</i>).</li>
+<li>* Wood Rail (<i>Aramides cayana</i>).</li>
+<li>Purple Gallinule (<i>Ionornis martinica</i>).</li>
+<li>Great-billed Tern (<i>Phaëthusa magnirostris</i>).</li>
+<li>Eye-browed Tern (<i>Sterna superciliaris</i>).</li>
+<li>* Jacana (<i>Jacana jacana</i>).</li>
+<li>Wood Ibis (<i>Tantalus loculator</i>).</li>
+<li>Jabiru (<i>Mycteria americana</i>).</li>
+<li>Cocoi Heron (<i>Ardea cocoi</i>).</li>
+<li>American Egret (<i>Herodias egretta</i>).</li>
+<li>* Guiana Green Heron (<i>Butorides striata</i>).</li>
+<li>Horned Screamer (<i>Palamedea cornuta</i>).</li>
+<li>Muscovy Duck (<i>Cairina moschata</i>).<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_365"></a>[365]</span></p></li>
+<li>Rufous Tree-duck (<i>Dendrocygna fulva</i>).</li>
+<li>Gray-necked Tree-duck (<i>Dendrocygna discolor</i>).</li>
+<li>Guiana Cormorant (<i>Phalacrocorax vigua</i>).</li>
+<li>Snakebird (<i>Plotus anhinga</i>).</li>
+<li>Black Vulture (<i>Catharista urubu</i>).</li>
+<li>Yellow-headed Vulture (<i>Catharista urubitinga</i>).</li>
+<li>Caracara (<i>Polyborus cheriway</i>).</li>
+<li>South American Blue Hawk (<i>Geranospizias caerulescens</i>).</li>
+<li>* South American Black Hawk (<i>Urubitinga urubitinga</i>).</li>
+<li>* Rufous Kingfisher (<i>Ceryle torquata</i>).</li>
+<li>Parauque (<i>Nyctidromus albicollis</i>).</li>
+<li>Goatsucker (sp?).</li>
+<li>Green Hummingbird (sp?).</li>
+<li>Little Rufous Cuckoo (<i>Piaya rutila</i>).</li>
+<li>Smooth-billed Ani (<i>Crotophaga ani</i>).</li>
+<li>* Cinnamon Spine-tail (<i>Synallaxis cinnamomea</i>).</li>
+<li>* Pied Ground Flycatcher (<i>Fluvicola pica</i>).</li>
+<li>* White-headed Flycatcher (<i>Arundicola leucocephala</i>).</li>
+<li>* Cinereus Tody-flycatcher (<i>Todirostrum cinereum</i>).</li>
+<li>* Guiana Kiskadee Tyrant (<i>Pitangus sulphuratus</i>).</li>
+<li>* Lesser Kiskadee Tyrant (<i>Pitangus lictor</i>).</li>
+<li>* Large-billed Kiskadee Tyrant (<i>Megarhynchus pitangua</i>).</li>
+<li>* White-throated Kingbird (<i>Tyrannus melancholicus</i>).</li>
+<li>Tree Swallow (<i>Tachycineta bicolor</i>).</li>
+<li>Variegated Swallow (<i>Tachycineta albiventris</i>).</li>
+<li>Barn Swallow (<i>Hirundo erythrogaster</i>).</li>
+<li>* Gray-breasted Martin (<i>Progne chalybea</i>).</li>
+<li>Red-breasted Swallow (<i>Stelgidopteryx ruficollis</i>).</li>
+<li>* Guiana House Wren (<i>Troglodytes musculus clarus</i>).</li>
+<li>* Black-capped Mocking-thrush (<i>Donacobius atricapillus</i>).</li>
+<li>* Pygmy Seedeater (<i>Sporophila minuta</i>).</li>
+<li>Little Yellow-headed Blackbird (<i>Agelaius icterocephalus</i>).</li>
+<li>Red-breasted Blackbird (<i>Leistes militaris</i>).</li>
+<li>Meadow Lark (<i>Sturnella magna meridionalis</i>).</li>
+<li>* Yellow Oriole (<i>Icterus xanthornus</i>).</li>
+<li>Little Boat-tailed (<i>Guiana</i>) Grackle (<i>Quiscalus lugubris</i>).</li>
+</ul>
+
+<p>The most interesting of all were the Hoatzins,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird11">11</a></span> whose
+raucous squawks brought vividly to our minds the mangrove
+swamps of Venezuela where we had studied them last year.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_366"></a>[366]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure150" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure150.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 150. Nest of a Hoatzin in the mucka-mucka
+on which these Birds feed.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>As I have said the east bank of the river is for the most
+part clear of growth, save for the reeds and grasses of the
+savanna. Along the western bank is a dense shrubby or
+bushy line of vegetation; occasionally rising to a height of
+twenty or thirty feet or again appearing only two or three
+yards above the reeds beyond. The brush grows altogether
+in the water and consists chiefly of a species of tall Arum,
+or mucka-mucka, as the natives call it, frequently bound
+together by a tangle of delicate vines. Here and there is a
+low, light-barked tree-like growth. This narrow ribbon of
+aquatic growth was the home of the Hoatzins, and from one
+year’s end to another they may be found along the same<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_367"></a>[367]</span>
+reaches of the river. In general, their habits did not differ
+from those of the birds which we observed in Venezuela.
+Throughout the heat of midday no sight or sound revealed
+the presence of the birds, but as the afternoon wore on a
+single raucous squawk would be heard in the distance, and
+we knew the Hoatzins were astir.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="figure151" style="max-width: 25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure151.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 151. The Author Photographing Hoatzins.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Directly in front, between the bungalow and the river, as
+may be seen from my diagram (<a href="#figure147">Fig. 147</a>), the brush had been
+cut away on either hand for a distance of about sixty yards.
+Every evening from 4.30 to 5.30 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>, the Hoatzins gathered
+on the extreme northern end of this wide break in their line
+of thickets, until sometimes twenty-five or thirty birds were
+in sight at once. Some would fly down to the low branches<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_368"></a>[368]</span>
+and begin to tear off pieces of the young tender shoots of the
+mucka-mucka. With much noise and flapping of wings,
+several made their way to a single bare branch which projected
+out over the cleared marsh. The first bird would
+make many false starts, crouching and then losing heart,
+but the next on the branch, getting impatient, at last nudged
+him a bit, and at last he launched out into the air. With
+rather slow wing beats, but working apparently with all his
+power, he spanned the wide extent of cleared brush, then the
+ten feet of water, then fifteen yards more of stumps, and with
+a final effort he clutched a branch—and his goal was reached!
+After several minutes of breathlessness he continued on his
+way out of sight into the depth of the brush. The second
+Hoatzin would then essay the feat, but fail ignominiously and
+fall midway, coming down all of a heap among the stumps.
+Here a rest was taken, and for five or ten minutes the bird
+would feed quietly. Then a second flight carried it back to
+the starting point or to the end of the open space.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes when the birds alighted and clutched a twig,
+they would be so exhausted that they toppled over and hung
+upside down for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>Watching the Hoatzins carefully with stereos for several
+evenings in succession we came to know and distinguish
+individual birds. Two, one of which had a broken feather in
+the right wing, and the other a two-inch short central tail
+feather, were excellent flyers and, taking their leaping start
+from the high branch, never failed to make their goal, going
+the whole distance and alighting easily. All of the others
+had to rest and one which was moulting a feather in each
+wing could achieve only about ten yards. This one fell one
+evening into the water at the second relay flight, and half
+flopped, half swam ashore.</p>
+
+<p>One evening a Hoatzin flew toward us and alighted near
+some hens on the ground, but took wing almost instantly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_369"></a>[369]</span>
+back to his brush-wood. A day or two before we came one
+of the birds had used a beam of the porch as a perch.</p>
+
+<p>This general movement occurred at both sunrise and sunset
+and was always as thorough and noisy as we found it the
+first evening of our stay. For months, we were told, it had
+been kept up as regularly as clockwork.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure152" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure152.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 152. (A) Female Hoatzin flushed from her Nest; the Male
+Bird approaching.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>In the morning as the sun grew hotter the birds became
+quiet and finally disappeared, not to be heard or seen again
+until afternoon. They spend the heat of the day sitting on
+their nests or perched on branches in the cooler, deeper
+recesses of their linear jungle.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure153" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure153.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 153. (B) Female Hoatzin in the same Position, the Male having
+flown nearer.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>The last view of them in the morning, as the heat became
+intense, or late in the evening, usually revealed them squatted<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_370"></a>[370]</span>
+on the branches in pairs close together. On moonlight
+nights however they were active and noisy, and came into
+the open to feed. The habit of crouching or settling down on
+the perch is very common with the Hoatzins, and it may
+be due to the weakness of the feet and toes. I am inclined
+however to consider it in connection with the general awkwardness
+in alighting and climbing, as a hint of the unadaptability
+of the large feet to the small size of the twigs and
+branches among which they live. Inexplicable though it may
+appear, the Hoatzin—although evidently unchanged in many
+respects through long epochs—yet is far from being perfectly
+adapted to its present environment. It has a severe<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_371"></a>[371]</span>
+struggle for existence, and the least increase of any foe or
+obstacle would result in its extinction.</p>
+
+<p>At the time of our arrival the Hoatzins had just begun to
+nest. They were utilizing old nests which, although so
+apparently flimsy in construction, yet were remarkably cohesive.
+The nests are almost indistinguishable from those of
+the “Chows” or Guiana Green Herons which were built in
+the same situations. The latter were usually low over the
+water, while the Hoatzins’ were higher, from five to twelve
+feet above the surface of the marsh. The twigs were longer
+and more tightly interlaced in the Hoatzin’s nest, and while
+the nests of the Heron crumbled when lifted from the crotch,
+the others remained intact. The Hoatzins placed their
+nests in crotches of the tree-like growths, or more rarely
+supported by several branched mucka-mucka stems. Both
+sexes aided in the building as we observed two birds collecting
+and weaving the twigs. Three sets of eggs which came
+under our observation numbered respectively 2, 3, and 4.
+From what information I could gather, two seems to be the
+usual number.</p>
+
+<p>The eggs are rather variable in shape. One which I
+have, from the Orinoco, is elliptical, while my Abary specimens
+are oval. The ground color is creamy white. The entire
+surface is marked with small irregularly shaped dots and
+spots of reddish brown, inclining to be more abundant at
+the large end. The brown pigment deposited early in the
+oviduct is covered by a thin layer of lime and thereby given
+a lavender hue. The size averages 1.8 by 1.3 inches.</p>
+
+<p>Hoatzins seem to be very free from enemies, although
+from year to year their numbers remain about the same.
+The waters beneath them are inhabited by numbers of otters,
+crocodiles, anacondas and voracious fish, so that death lies
+that way. They seem also to fear some predatory bird, for
+whenever a harmless Caracara Hawk<span class="bird"><a href="#bird53">53</a></span> skimmed low over<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_372"></a>[372]</span>
+the branches on the lookout for lizards, the Hoatzins always
+tumbled pell mell into the shelter of the thick foliage below.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure154" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure154.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 154. (C) Male Hoatzin alarmed and about to take Flight.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>We found that the best time to approach and photograph
+the birds was during their siesta. As we paddled along the
+bank they scrambled from their perches or nests up to the
+bare branches overhead, calling hoarsely to one another.
+Pushing aside the dense growth of Arums and vines, we
+worked our canoe as far as possible into the heart of the
+bush, to the foot of some good-sized tree perhaps a foot in diameter.
+Stepping from the boat to the lowest limb, Milady
+would hand me the big Graflex with the unwieldy but
+necessary 27-inch lens, and I began my painful ascent.
+At first all was easy going, but as I ascended I broke off<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_373"></a>[373]</span>
+numerous dead twigs and from the broken stub of each
+issued a horde of black stinging ants. These hastened my
+ascent and at last I made my way out on the swaying upper
+branches. (<a href="#figure151">Fig. 151.</a>) From here I had a fairly clear view
+of the surrounding bush and if I worked rapidly I could
+secure three or four pictures before the Hoatzins took flight
+and hid amid the foliage.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure155" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure155.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 155. (D) Female Hoatzin crouching to avoid Observation.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Of all my pictures that of <a href="#figure157">Fig. 157</a> is the prize. We
+came upon a flock of Hoatzins late in the afternoon and were
+fortunate enough to get into a clear space and to photograph
+eleven on the same plate; the confused mass near the centre
+of the picture containing four individuals. <a href="#figure148">Fig. 148</a> shows
+the character of the country where we found the Hoatzins on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_374"></a>[374]</span>
+Abary River, with the line of dense growth on one side and
+the level savanna on the other.</p>
+
+<p>A study of an individual pair of birds is given in <a href="#figure152">Figs. 152
+to 156</a>, and the actions of these two birds were so typical of
+Hoatzins that an account of them will apply to the species in
+general. I made these photographs from a boat, standing
+on the thwarts while Milady guided it through the brush.</p>
+
+<p>We flushed the female from her nest (marked by a circle
+in <a href="#figure150">Fig. 150</a>) and she flew to a branch some eight feet higher
+(<a href="#figure152">Fig. 152</a>). The male then appeared from a tree beyond
+(centre of <a href="#figure152">Fig. 152</a>). We remained perfectly quiet, and the
+next photograph shows her tail-on, looking about, while the
+male, who has flown nearer, is watching us suspiciously.
+<a href="#figure154">Fig. 154</a> shows the male on another perch, still more alarmed,
+and a moment later he thrashed his way out of sight.
+Meanwhile the female had rediscovered us and crouched
+down (<a href="#figure155">Fig. 155</a>) hoping to avoid observation, but as we
+pushed closer to the nest, she rose on her perch, spread tail
+and wings to the widest (<a href="#figure156">Fig. 156</a>), her scarlet eyes flashing,
+and uttering a last despairing hiss, launched out for a few
+yards. At this moment, as may be seen in the same picture,
+a second pair of birds left their nest in the next clump
+of undergrowth and raised their discordant notes in protest
+at our intrusion.</p>
+
+<p>The assertion which we made last year—Milady having
+been the first to observe it—that Hoatzins use their primaries
+as fingers, in the same way that the chicks and partly
+grown young use their wing claws, has been received with
+some doubt, and I am glad to offer a photograph (<a href="#figure156">Fig. 156</a>)
+as evidence. In the right wing of the Hoatzin, the thumb
+feathers are plainly visible, with their inner edges fretted
+away, while the first six primaries also show signs of severe
+wear, such as would be expected from the rough usage to
+which they are put.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_375"></a>[375]</span></p>
+
+<p>Attention is called to the apparent immobility of the crest,
+which is as fully erect in the crouching Hoatzin (<a href="#figure155">Fig. 155</a>) as
+in the same bird a minute or two later, alert and about to fly
+(<a href="#figure156">Fig. 156</a>).</p>
+
+<p>Thus it was that we took the first photographs ever made
+of these most interesting birds.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp83" id="figure156" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure156.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 156. (E) Female Hoatzin taking flight, with wings fully
+spread; a second pair of birds leaving their nest, in the background.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Insects were abundant on the island and if we had taken
+time we could have made an interesting collection. Three
+species of bright Orange butterflies were numerous (<i>Euptoieta
+hegesia</i>, <i>Colaenis phaerusa</i> and the familiar Red Silver-wing,
+<i>Agraulis vanillae</i>, of our northern fields), and with these were
+also a White (<i>Pieris monuste</i>) and a Yellow (<i>Callidryas statira</i>).<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_376"></a>[376]</span>
+The three commonest dragon-flies were <i>Diastatops tincta</i>,
+<i>Erythrodiplax umbrata</i> and <i>E. peruviana</i>.</p>
+
+<p>There were two pairs of Black-capped Mocking-thrushes<span class="bird"><a href="#bird126">126</a></span>
+on the island and they afforded us much amusement. They
+are true cousins of the Catbird and Mockingbird, and from
+their actions would almost seem to have a strain of Chat blood!
+A pair lived in each of the brush clumps <i>a</i> and <i>b</i> (<a href="#figure147">Fig. 147</a>) and
+hour after hour would sit calling and answering each other.
+One pair (the two birds sitting close to each other) would
+shout in unison <i>powie! powie! powie!</i> rapidly a dozen times
+in succession. The other pair responded <i>week! week! week!
+week!</i> as often and as rapidly. At each enunciation the
+half-spread tails of the respective pair of birds wagged violently
+from side to side, exactly as if pulled with a string.
+As the utterances of each of the two birds were synchronous,
+the wagging was always in perfect time, but sometimes
+the “strings” got crossed with this effect (a); or this (b);
+but almost every time the movement was in unison thus
+(c); or thus (d). These active, interesting birds have in
+addition an elaborate song, uttered singly, which these
+individuals were practising but which we had heard fully
+developed at La Brea in Venezuela.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="birdsong3" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/birdsong3.jpg" alt="">
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_377"></a>[377]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure157" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure157.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 157. Flock of Eleven Hoatzins.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_378"></a>[378]</span></p>
+
+<p>Purple Gallinules<span class="bird"><a href="#bird13">13</a></span> and Cayenne Wood Rails<span class="bird"><a href="#bird12">12</a></span> were
+seen every day but were not abundant. A pair of the latter
+were nesting near the island and well merited their native
+name of Killicow, screaming a confused chorus of syllables
+resembling these for five minutes at a stretch every morning.</p>
+
+<p>Among the smaller marsh birds, Jacanas<span class="bird"><a href="#bird23">23</a></span> easily held
+first place, both in numbers and in action and voice, day
+and night. About every half hour through the day a group
+of these birds would set up a wild and frantic clacking,
+sounding as if a dozen hens were being pursued and had
+about given up all hope of escape. This was usually caused
+by the appearance of a crocodile, large or small, from beneath
+the lily pads. All the Jacanas within sight would gather at
+once and dance excitedly about on the surrounding pads
+until the pestered reptile sank again into the muddy waters.
+Several times we saw trios of these birds in play or combat,
+each holding the wings spread low and in front, ready to
+strike with the sharp spurs or to protect their own body by
+the buttress of feathers. They are very graceful in all their
+motions, holding the wings straight upward for a few seconds
+after alighting.</p>
+
+<p>This being practically a treeless region, the birds were of
+necessity either terrestrial, aquatic or aërial, and the latter
+formed a not inconsiderable percentage. Terns were one
+of the most picturesque features of the savanna, flying over
+and around the island in small flocks, the large Great-billed
+fellows<span class="bird"><a href="#bird14">14</a></span> with black caps and wings, and the tiny Eye-browed
+species<span class="bird"><a href="#bird15">15</a></span> reminding one of our Least Tern. Both
+beat back and forth, or hung fluttering over the lagoon,
+and now and then dropped plummet-like after a small
+fish.</p>
+
+<p>The Swallows were legion—six species in all, forever swooping
+over the marsh or snatching sips of river water as they
+flew. The Variegated<span class="bird"><a href="#bird119">119</a></span> were the most beautiful, and we<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_379"></a>[379]</span>
+welcomed as old friends Barn<span class="bird"><a href="#bird121">121</a></span> and Tree Swallows,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird120">120</a></span>
+whose twittering forms brought our northern autumn
+marshes vividly to mind. Many Flycatchers and Seed-eaters
+were nesting close by, while the beautiful Orioles<span class="bird"><a href="#bird159">159</a></span>
+clung to their pendent nests over the water, and a House
+Wren<span class="bird"><a href="#bird124">124</a></span> divided his time between inspecting his brood in a
+hollow stub at the foot of the bungalow steps, and singing
+his heart out, from the roof. The little “Rooties” or
+Cinnamon Spine-tails<span class="bird"><a href="#bird94">94</a></span>—absurdly Wren-like but in reality
+Woodhewers which have deserted tree-trunks for reeds—showed
+us their homes, concealed in great untidy balls of
+twigs. As they flit here and there through the bushes and
+grasses, they let off a sound like a miniature rattle.</p>
+
+<p>The mornings and evenings, here as elsewhere in the
+tropics, are the periods of greatest activity among birds and
+other creatures. In the afternoon, before the Hoatzins
+began to gather, great tarpon would play in the river, the
+shower of drops scattered by their leaps sparkling like silver
+in the slanting rays of the sun. The few in the lagoon are
+of small size, but tarpon in the Abary reach a weight of
+185 pounds. A swirling in the shallows near the landing shows
+where an anaconda (<i>Eunectes murinus</i>) is stirring after his
+day’s rest. His mate, ten feet long, has just been shot after
+having helped herself to the bungalow chickens—one each
+night for a week, and serpent number two (whose size our
+Arrawak Indian squaw cook places at a fabulous thirty feet
+or more!) must soon pay the same penalty unless he changes
+his diet.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_380"></a>[380]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure158" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure158.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 158. Crocodiles on a South American River Bank.</span> (Photo by Bingham.)</p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_381"></a>[381]</span></p>
+
+<p>Toward dusk all the Swallows of the world—or so it
+appears—fly past in loose bands or singly, northward
+toward the eta bush to roost, hundreds and thousands of
+them—Red-breasted,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird123">123</a></span> Banded,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird118">118</a></span> Barn,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird121">121</a></span> Variegated<span class="bird"><a href="#bird119">119</a></span> and
+Tree<span class="bird"><a href="#bird120">120</a></span> Swallows with scores of the Gray-breasted Martins.<span class="bird"><a href="#bird122">122</a></span>
+Then the fishers of the savanna appear, looking
+whiter and more ghostly than ever, against the dark
+clouds; flock after flock flapping silently over: a score of
+Egrets<span class="bird"><a href="#bird32">32</a></span> in an irregular line, then a dozen more smaller
+troops; Wood Ibises<span class="bird"><a href="#bird28">28</a></span> higher up and beating heavily, then—and
+our pulses quicken—a half dozen great Jabirus<span class="bird"><a href="#bird30">30</a></span>—slowly
+throbbing toward the sunset. The Ducks prefer the
+river, and above the fluid tide a living river of birds sets upstream,
+hosts passing until long after dark. We paddle in
+the early dusk to mid-stream and the whistling stream of
+Ducks curves gracefully upward, descending again when
+beyond us. As we go up or down river, we find the bend
+always overhead; when we leave the river, the host resumes
+its horizontal flow again. Faintly from behind the house,
+from the edge of the distant eta bush itself, comes in the
+evenings a low sound, gaining in volume until the syllables
+may be framed to human speech—<i>Mo-hóo-ca! Mo-hóo-ca!</i>
+and we are listening to the evening call of the Horned
+Screamer,<span class="bird"><a href="#bird41">41</a></span> a bird known to us only from books.</p>
+
+<p>The night sounds from the lagoon are full of mystery.
+Sea-cows souse and roll in the river and apparently at the
+very landing. Otters play and cough and utter gasping
+sighs which make one’s flesh creep until we learn what they
+are. The legend of the Warracabra Tigers, which Waterton
+and all after him recount, may well have had its origin
+in these great river mammals, who are noisy, fearless and
+sometimes reach a length of six feet. A beautiful skin which
+I brought home measures five and a half feet from nose to
+tip of tail. Water-haas, or capybaras, probably add their
+share to the confusion, but the major part of the medley is
+due to crocodiles, who wait until night before beginning
+their active, noisy business of life, which, be it concerned
+with food, mate or play, requires a vast deal of splashing
+and bellowing. This latter is a deep abrupt roaring like
+the final roars of a lion’s cadence. An eight-foot crocodile
+was shot in the lagoon a few days before, or rather shot
+at, as the beast seemed to be none the worse.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_382"></a>[382]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure159" style="max-width: 43.75em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure159.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 159. Lagoon between Abary Island and River.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_383"></a>[383]</span></p>
+
+<p>Small wonder that, when we consider snakes, crocodiles,
+otters and voracious fishes, that the gentle Vicissi Ducks
+prefer the safer vegetation of the marsh itself! The real
+birds of night were few—but with voices weird and awesome,
+in perfect harmony with this unpeopled waste. A
+pair of Parauque-like beings who in uttering liquid accents
+reiterated their names, mingled with the ever tragic toned
+questioning of another Goatsucker, pleading with us to end
+his agonized uncertainty—<i>Whó-are-yoú? Whó-are-yoú?</i></p>
+
+<p>Early on the morning of our last day, April 15th, I awoke
+and peered out through the dimness of my muslin hammock
+net to catch the first hint of dawn. The east soon became
+lighter and the warp and woof of the cloth softened and disguised
+the scene which stretched before me from the edge
+of the veranda. As I lay there half awake, I seemed to see
+great towering moras, with their masses of dependent parasites,
+stretching high into the air. This passed, and the
+savanna became more distinct—the whistle of Ducks’
+wings overhead was almost incessant, with now and then the
+note of a Hoatzin. Dull thuds indicating some one at labor
+behind the bungalow and the sound of low negro voices
+added to the imagery and I seemed to be with the black men
+three score years before, laboring at their island, fighting disease
+and starvation—harassed by heat, insects and reptiles;
+ever on the watch for their pursuing masters while the orange
+headed Vultures soared overhead, waiting for their turn
+which sooner or later would come.</p>
+
+<p>A bit of comedy broke in upon my dream—the voices of
+the negroes from their hammocks at the other end of the porch
+became audible for a moment.</p>
+
+<p>“Wont you tak’ a drink of sompfin to interact de cold?”</p>
+
+<p>“No tanks, ah doesn’t stimulate.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_384"></a>[384]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="figure160" style="max-width: 31.25em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/figure160.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Fig. 160. Young Spur-winged Jacana.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Parting my hammock net, I found my vision of jungle
+growth had been prompted by a great bank of black cloud,
+out of which the sun leaped at that instant and lighted up
+the beautiful green and blue of savanna and river. Little
+Green Herons<span class="bird"><a href="#bird38">38</a></span> were fishing at the water’s edge and a
+Jacana<span class="bird"><a href="#bird23">23</a></span> was leading her brood of three small chicks within
+a few feet of my hammock, down to a causeway of trembling
+lily pads. The youngsters were very tiny, clad in gray
+with a large black mark on the nape. Even in comparison
+with their mother their toes were of enormous length.
+They kept at her very heels and when she stopped for a
+moment crept beneath her wings. But at this concentration
+of weight the water would begin to trickle over the rim of
+the fragile pads and the mother would hurry on, flashing out
+the yellow of her wings every few steps, perhaps as a signal
+to her brood.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_385"></a>[385]</span></p>
+
+<p>Why every chick is not snapped up by hungry crocodiles or
+other aquatic ogres is a mystery. Every morning this and
+several other bands, all of three, would thread their way
+across the lagoon to the reeds beyond.</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast about 8 o’clock, while I was reconnoitering
+for the best place to begin trapping the Hoatzins, as we
+wished to take some home alive, tragedy came, sudden and
+unexpected. A single pitiful cry brought me back to the
+house in an instant, and there was Milady, who but a
+moment before had been happily planning with Crandall
+about preparations for trapping, lying with a broken wrist.
+A hammock in which she had seated herself for an instant
+had come untied and given way and it was a miracle that
+the seven foot drop backward to the ground had resulted
+in only one broken bone. Game little lady, her first words
+were, “Oh! we can’t get the Hoatzins”!</p>
+
+<p>The remainder of that 15th of April will ever be a misty
+dream in my mind. We bandied no words as to the value
+of Hoatzins in particular, or the whole world of science in
+general, versus Milady’s hurt, but without confusion quickly
+organized our plan of action. I had the best corps of helpers
+one could want; Mr. and Mrs. Vinton, Crandall and Harry.
+One of us constantly dropped cold water on the injury,
+another threw together all our belongings; others worked
+like Trojans to assemble the launch engines, which had been
+taken apart for cleaning. In two hours we were on the
+throbbing little boat, passing the Hoatzins and hosts of
+Ducks with unseeing eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Then two hours later at the railroad bridge came a quick
+run to the nearest telegraph office, where a sympathetic,
+300 pound negro “mammy” presided over the instrument
+and wept copiously for the “po’ lil’ lady,” while she clicked
+out an urgent message for a special train. She said “Ah am
+too sorry for to heah dat bad news,” and when our procession<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_386"></a>[386]</span>
+drew up at her little house to wait for the train she called
+out to Milady the comforting information that “In der midst
+of life we are in death!” This greatly amused the sufferer,
+and we settled ourselves for the long wait. As long as one
+has something to do, any helpful work, to keep one’s hands
+or mind busy, it is an easy matter to control one’s feelings
+in a critical emergency. But when one must wait quietly
+for hours, the long period of inaction is maddening. We
+tramped up and down the track, telephoning every few
+minutes to locate the progress of the special along the line.
+Then Crandall spied a big yellow-tailed snake (<i>Herpetodryas
+carinatus</i>) crossing the track. Here was an excuse for working
+off surplus steam, and we both made a dash for it. Crandall
+caught it by the tail as it was disappearing into the brush
+and we had an exciting ten minutes getting it unharmed into a
+snake bag, the active creature succeeding in biting us twice
+before we muffled it. Visitors to the Reptile House of our
+Zoölogical Park little imagine, when gazing at this handsome
+creature, what a relief to our tense nerves its capture meant.</p>
+
+<p>At last the special came in sight and we set out on the
+wildest of rides to Georgetown. Having seen Milady in a
+doze on a sofa in the train, Crandall and I climbed up to the
+railed-in roof of the car and, with the wind beating down
+our very eyelids, watched the narrow escapes of dogs, cows,
+donkeys and coolies, from the track at the approach of this
+unlooked for train. The yellow and scarlet Blackbirds
+blew up like chaff on either hand. Egrets, Ibises and Jabirus
+watched in amazement from afar, or flew hurriedly off at the
+long drawn-out siren whistle, which hardly ceased across the
+whole country.</p>
+
+<p>We met the single afternoon train, side-tracked to let us
+pass, and then had an open road to Georgetown. Slowing
+down, we passed through the station, on through the streets,
+to within a half block of Mr. Vinton’s house.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_387"></a>[387]</span></p>
+
+<p>Here good Dr. Law took charge and, ten hours after the
+accident, fitted the shattered bone so skilfully that hardly a
+trace remains of the bad colleus fracture. The patient had
+no temperature at the time of the operation, the only ill
+effect being a short, sharp attack of malaria. I cite all these
+details chiefly to show the falsity of most of the universal
+slanders on a tropical climate.</p>
+
+<p>Nine days afterward on April 24th, we sailed from Georgetown,
+homesick with desire to remain longer in this wonderland.
+The three short expeditions we had made, served only
+to whet our eagerness to search deeper beneath the surface,
+and glean some of the more fundamental secrets which
+Nature still hides from us. But we had fulfilled the bush-proverb;
+we had “eaten of labba meat and drunk of river
+water” and we know in our hearts that some day we shall
+return.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the thought of that vast continent, as yet
+almost untouched by real scientific research; the supreme
+joy of learning, of discovering, of adding our tiny facts to the
+foundation of the everlasting <i>why</i> of the universe; all this
+makes life for us—Milady and me—one never-ending
+delight.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="footnotes">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_388"></a>[388]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="FOOTNOTES">FOOTNOTES</h2>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[A]</a> The superior figures following the names of birds throughout the
+volume refer to a list of their scientific names given for identification in
+<a href="#APPENDIX_A">Appendix A</a>.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[B]</a> Actual temperatures (Fahrenheit) taken in the mangrove forest on
+board the sloop are as follows:</p>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="3">March 30th—</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">5.30</td>
+    <td>A.M.</td>
+    <td>66°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">9.30</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>86°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">11.30</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>86°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">1.30</td>
+    <td>P.M.</td>
+    <td>86°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">7.00</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>78°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="3">March 31st—</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">5.30</td>
+    <td>A.M.</td>
+    <td>71°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">6.30</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>72°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="3">April 1st—</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">6.00</td>
+    <td>A.M.</td>
+    <td>73°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">10.00</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>80°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">2.00</td>
+    <td>P.M.</td>
+    <td>85°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">6.00</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>80°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="3">April 2nd—</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">5.30</td>
+    <td>A.M.</td>
+    <td>69°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">7.30</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>77°</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">[C]</a> In looking over the laws of the colony I found the following Wild
+Birds’ Protection Ordinance. I have added the explanatory names in
+parentheses. (C. W. B.)</p>
+
+<p>List of Wild Birds absolutely protected.</p>
+
+<ul>
+<li>Black Witch (Ani)</li>
+<li>Campanero (Bell Bird)</li>
+<li>Carrion Crow (Vulture)</li>
+<li>Cassique</li>
+<li>Cock-of-the-Rock</li>
+<li>Cotinga</li>
+<li>Crane (Heron)</li>
+<li>Creeper (Woodhewer)</li>
+<li>Egret</li>
+<li>Flycatcher</li>
+<li>Gauldin (Heron)</li>
+<li>Goatsucker</li>
+<li>Grass Bird</li>
+<li>Ground Dove</li>
+<li>Jacamar</li>
+<li>Hawk</li>
+<li>Heron</li>
+<li>Hummingbird</li>
+<li>Hutu (Motmot)</li>
+<li>Kingfisher</li>
+<li>Kite</li>
+<li>Macaw</li>
+<li>Manakin</li>
+<li>Martin</li>
+<li>Owl</li>
+<li>Parroquet</li>
+<li>Qu’est-ce qu’il dit (Kiskadee)</li>
+<li>Shrike</li>
+<li>Sun Bird (Sun Bittern)</li>
+<li>Sparrow</li>
+<li>Swallow</li>
+<li>Tanager</li>
+<li>Thrush</li>
+<li>Toucan</li>
+<li>Trogan</li>
+<li>Troupial</li>
+<li>Woodpecker</li>
+<li>Wren</li>
+<li>Vulture</li>
+</ul>
+
+<p>List of Wild Birds protected from April 1st to Sept. 1st.</p>
+
+<ul>
+<li>Bittern</li>
+<li>Curlew</li>
+<li>Curri-curri (Scarlet Ibis)</li>
+<li>Douraquara (Partridge)</li>
+<li>Dove (other than Ground Dove)</li>
+<li>Ibis</li>
+<li>Hanaqua (Chachalaca)</li>
+<li>Maam (Tinamou)</li>
+<li>Maroudi (Guan)</li>
+<li>Negro-cop (Jabiru)</li>
+<li>Parrot</li>
+<li>Pigeon</li>
+<li>Plover</li>
+<li>Powis (Curassow)</li>
+<li>Quail</li>
+<li>Snipe</li>
+<li>Spur-wing (Jacana)</li>
+<li>Trumpet-bird</li>
+<li>Wild Duck</li>
+</ul>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">[D]</a> The average daily temperature during our stay was as follows:</p>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">6.30</td>
+    <td>A.M.</td>
+    <td>68°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">7.30</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>71°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">8.00</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>72°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">10.00</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>76°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">12.00</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>77°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">2.00</td>
+    <td>P.M.</td>
+    <td>81°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">5.00</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>74°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">7.00</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>73°</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr">9.30</td>
+    <td></td>
+    <td>71°</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">[E]</a> Zoölogica, Vol. 1, No. 4, page 123.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[F]</a> Both of these moths proved to be new to science, both as to species
+and genus and have been named respectively <i>Hositea gynaecia</i> and <i>Zaevius
+calocore</i>. Zoölogica, Vol. 1, No. 4.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">[G]</a> Two Bird lovers in Mexico, pp. 239-241.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">[H]</a> Zoölogica, Vol. I, No. 4.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">[I]</a> The color of the back and sides was a light gold, shading into dark
+maroon or red on the head, tail and limbs. The skin of the face, ears,
+palms and scantily haired under parts was dark slate. The eyes were hazel
+brown. The total length was 50½ inches, 25 of which consisted of the tail.
+The bare prehensile portion along the lower side of the tail extended 11½
+inches backward from the tip. The forearm and hand was 16 inches long;
+the hind leg 18 inches. The hair of the beard was 1¾ inches long. The
+Monkey had been feeding on leaves and some kind of fruit with stones like
+cherry pits.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">[J]</a> There were several intervening branches, and two or three links in the
+performance were not clear until I returned north.</p>
+
+<p>Col. Anthony R. Kuser has most kindly put his splendid aviaries at
+Bernardsville, New Jersey, at my disposal for scientific investigation, and here,
+for a month or more after our return, a male Curassow would go through this
+whole performance for the benefit of anyone who would watch him. After
+the various “stunts” had been performed, he would fly at the feet of the
+observer and, wrapping his wings about one’s shoes, would peck savagely
+at the shoestrings. From this and other indications I decided that the performance
+is more in the nature of a challenge than a courtship display.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_389"></a>[389]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="APPENDIX_A">APPENDIX A.<br>
+<span class="smcap">Classified List of Birds Mentioned in this Volume.</span></h2>
+
+</div>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">TINAMIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird1">1.</td>
+    <td>Great Blue Tinamou—<i>Tinamus tao</i> Temm.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird2">2.</td>
+    <td>Guiana Crested Tinamou—<i>Tinamus subcristatus</i> (Cab.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird3">3.</td>
+    <td>Little Tinamou—<i>Crypturus variegatus</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">GALLIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird4">4.</td>
+    <td>Crested Curassow—<i>Crax alector</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird5">5.</td>
+    <td>Jacupeba Guan—<i>Penelope jacupeba</i> Spix.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird6">6.</td>
+    <td>Marail Guan—<i>Penelope marail</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird7">7.</td>
+    <td>Red-tailed Chachalaca—<i>Ortalis ruficauda</i> Jard.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird8">8.</td>
+    <td>Guiana Quail—<i>Odontophorus guianensis</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">COLUMBIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird9">9.</td>
+    <td>Red-winged Ground Dove—<i>Columbigallina rufipennis</i> (Bonap.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird10">10.</td>
+    <td>Red-underwing Dove—<i>Leptoptila rufaxilla</i> (Rich.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">OPISTHOCOMIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird11">11.</td>
+    <td>Hoatzin—<i>Opisthocomus hoazin</i> (Müll.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">RALLIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird12">12.</td>
+    <td>Cayenne Wood Rail—<i>Aramides cayanea</i> (Müll.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird13">13.</td>
+    <td>Purple Gallinule—<i>Ionornis martinica</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">LARIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird14">14.</td>
+    <td>Great-billed Tern—<i>Phaëthusa magnirostris</i> (Licht.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird15">15.</td>
+    <td>Eye-browed Tern—<i>Sterna superciliaris</i> Vieill.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird16">16.</td>
+    <td>Laughing Gull—<i>Larus atricilla</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird17">17.</td>
+    <td>Black-tailed Skimmer—<i>Rhynchops nigra cinerascens</i> Spix.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">CHARADRIIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird18">18.</td>
+    <td>Semipalmated Plover—<i>Aegialeus semipalmatus</i> (Bonap.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird19">19.</td>
+    <td>South American Collared Plover—<i>Aegialitis collaris</i> (Vieill.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird20">20.</td>
+    <td>Hudsonian Curlew—<i>Numenius hudsonicus</i> Lath.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird21">21.</td>
+    <td>Solitary Sandpiper—<i>Helodromas solitarius</i> (Wils.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird22">22.</td>
+    <td>Spotted Sandpiper—<i>Tringoides macularia</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird23">23.</td>
+    <td>Spur-winged Jacana—<i>Jacana jacana</i> (Linn.).<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_390"></a>[390]</span></p></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">GRUIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird24">24.</td>
+    <td>Sun-bittern—<i>Eurypyga helias</i> (Pall.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird25">25.</td>
+    <td>Common Trumpeter—<i>Psophia crepitans</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">ARDEIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird26">26.</td>
+    <td>Green River Ibis—<i>Phimosus infuscatus</i> (Licht.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird27">27.</td>
+    <td>Scarlet Ibis—<i>Eudocimus ruber</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird28">28.</td>
+    <td>Wood Ibis—<i>Tantalus loculator</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird29">29.</td>
+    <td>Maguari Stork—<i>Euxenura maguari</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird30">30.</td>
+    <td>Jabiru—<i>Mycteria americana</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird31">31.</td>
+    <td>Cocoi Heron—<i>Ardea cocoi</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird32">32.</td>
+    <td>American Egret—<i>Herodias egretta</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird33">33.</td>
+    <td>Snowy Egret—<i>Egretta candidissima</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird34">34.</td>
+    <td>Little Blue Heron—<i>Florida caerulea</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird35">35.</td>
+    <td>Louisiana Heron—<i>Hydranassa tricolor ruficollis</i> (Gosse).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird36">36.</td>
+    <td>Yellow-crowned Night Heron—<i>Nyctanassa violacea</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird37">37.</td>
+    <td>Boat-billed Heron—<i>Canchroma cochlearia</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird38">38.</td>
+    <td>Guiana Green Heron—<i>Butorides striata</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird39">39.</td>
+    <td>Agami Heron—<i>Agamia agami</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird40">40.</td>
+    <td>Amazonian Tiger Bittern—<i>Tigrisoma lineatum</i> (Bodd.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">PALAMEDEIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird41">41.</td>
+    <td>Horned Screamer—<i>Palamedea cornuta</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">PHOENICOPTERIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird42">42.</td>
+    <td>American Flamingo—<i>Phoenicopterus ruber</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">ANSERIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird43">43.</td>
+    <td>Muscovy Duck—<i>Cairina moschata</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird44">44.</td>
+    <td>Rufous Tree Duck—<i>Dendrocygna fulva</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird45">45.</td>
+    <td>Gray-necked Tree Duck—<i>Dendrocygna discolor</i> Scl. and Sal.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird46">46.</td>
+    <td>White-faced Tree Duck—<i>Dendrocygna viduata</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">PELECANIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird47">47.</td>
+    <td>Guiana Cormorant—<i>Phalacrocorax vigua</i> (Vieill.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird48">48.</td>
+    <td>Snake-bird—<i>Anhinga anhinga</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird49">49.</td>
+    <td>Frigate Bird—<i>Fregata aquila</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">CATHARTIDIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird50">50.</td>
+    <td>King Vulture—<i>Gypagus papa</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird51">51.</td>
+    <td>Black Vulture—<i>Catharista urubu</i> (Vieill.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird52">52.</td>
+    <td>Orange-headed Vulture—<i>Cathartes urubitinga</i> Pelz.<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_391"></a>[391]</span></p></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">ACCIPITRIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird53">53.</td>
+    <td>Caracara—<i>Polyborus cheriway</i> (Jacq.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird53a">53a.</td>
+    <td>South American Blue Hawk—<i>Geranospizias caerulescens</i> (Vieill.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird54">54.</td>
+    <td>Cream-headed Hawk—<i>Busarellus nigricollis</i> (Lath.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird55">55.</td>
+    <td>South American Black Hawk—<i>Urubitinga urubitinga</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird56">56.</td>
+    <td>White-headed Chimachima Hawk—<i>Leucopternis albicollis</i> (Lath.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird57">57.</td>
+    <td>Guiana Crested Eagle—<i>Morphnus guiananensis</i> (Daud.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird58">58.</td>
+    <td>Swallow-tailed Kite—<i>Elanoides forficatus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird59">59.</td>
+    <td>American Osprey—<i>Pandion haliaetus carolinensis</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">STRIGIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird60">60.</td>
+    <td>Southern Pygmy Owl—<i>Glaucidium brazilianum phalaenoides</i> (Daud.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">PSITTACIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird61">61.</td>
+    <td>Blue and Yellow Macaw—<i>Ara ararauna</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird62">62.</td>
+    <td>Red and Blue Macaw—<i>Ara macao</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird63">63.</td>
+    <td>Mealy Amazon Parrot—<i>Amazona farinosa</i> (Bodd.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird64">64.</td>
+    <td>Yellow-fronted Amazon Parrot—<i>Amazona ochrocephala</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird65">65.</td>
+    <td>Blue-headed Parrot—<i>Pionus menstruus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird66">66.</td>
+    <td>Dusky Parrot—<i>Pionus fuscus</i> (Müll.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">CORACIIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird67">67.</td>
+    <td>Great Rufous Kingfisher—<i>Ceryle torquata</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird68">68.</td>
+    <td>Red-bellied Kingfisher—<i>Ceryle americana</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird69">69.</td>
+    <td>Pygmy Kingfisher—<i>Ceryle superciliosa</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird70">70.</td>
+    <td>White-necked Parauque—<i>Nyctidromus albicollis</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird71">71.</td>
+    <td>Feather-toed Palm Swift—<i>Panyptila cayanensis</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird72">72.</td>
+    <td>Guiana Gray-rumped Swift—<i>Chaetura spinicauda</i> (Temm.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird73">73.</td>
+    <td>Eye-browed Hummingbird—<i>Phaëthornis guianensis</i> Bouc.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird74">74.</td>
+    <td>Guiana Rufous-breasted Hummingbird—<i>Phaëthornis episcopus</i> (Gould).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird75">75.</td>
+    <td>Guiana Long-tailed Hummingbird—<i>Topaza pella</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">TROGONIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird76">76.</td>
+    <td>Greater Yellow-bellied Trogon—<i>Trogon viridis</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">CUCULIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird77">77.</td>
+    <td>Great Rufous Cuckoo—<i>Piaya cayana</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird78">78.</td>
+    <td>Little Rufous Cuckoo—<i>Piaya rutila</i> (Illig.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird79">79.</td>
+    <td>Greater Ani—<i>Crotophaga major</i> Gmel.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird80">80.</td>
+    <td>Smooth-billed Ani—<i>Crotophaga ani</i> Linn.<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_392"></a>[392]</span></p></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">SCANSORES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird81">81.</td>
+    <td>Red-billed Toucan—<i>Rhamphastos erythrorhynchus</i> Gmel.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird82">82.</td>
+    <td>Sulphur and White-breasted Toucan—<i>Rhamphastos vitellinus</i> Licht.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird83">83.</td>
+    <td>Red-breasted Toucan—<i>Rhamphastos</i> Sp.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird84">84.</td>
+    <td>Black-banded Aracari Toucan—<i>Pteroglossus torquatus</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">PICIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird85">85.</td>
+    <td>Paradise Jacamar—<i>Urogalba paradisea</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird86">86.</td>
+    <td>Yellow-billed Jacamar—<i>Galbula albirostris</i> Lath.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird87">87.</td>
+    <td>Rufous-tailed Jacamar—<i>Galbula ruficauda</i> Cuv.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird88">88.</td>
+    <td>Great Red-crested Woodpecker—<i>Campephilus melanoleucus</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird89">89.</td>
+    <td>Great Ivory-billed Woodpecker—<i>Ceophloeus lineatus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird90">90.</td>
+    <td>Yellow Woodpecker—<i>Crocomorphus semicinnamomeus</i> (Reichenb.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">PASSERIFORMES.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">FORMICARIIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird91">91.</td>
+    <td>White-shouldered Pygmy Antbird—<i>Myrmotherula axillaris</i> Viell.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird92">92.</td>
+    <td>Scaly-backed Antbird—<i>Hypocnemis poecilonota</i> (Pucher.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird93">93.</td>
+    <td>Woodcock Antbird—<i>Rhopoterpe torquata</i> (Bodd.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">DENDROCOLAPTIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird94">94.</td>
+    <td>Cinnamon Spine-tail—<i>Synallaxis cinnamomea</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird95">95.</td>
+    <td>Whistling Woodhewer—<i>Dendrornis susuranus susuranus</i> (Jard.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird96">96.</td>
+    <td>Wedge-billed Woodhewer—<i>Glyphorhynchus cuneatus</i> (Licht.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">TYRANNIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird97">97.</td>
+    <td>White-shouldered Ground Flycatcher—<i>Fluvicola pica</i> (Bodd.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird98">98.</td>
+    <td>White-headed Marsh Flycatcher—<i>Arundinicoal leucocephala</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird99">99.</td>
+    <td>Gray Tody-flycatcher—<i>Todirostrum cinereum cinereum</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird100">100.</td>
+    <td>Yellow-breasted Elania Flycatcher—<i>Elaenea pagana</i> (Licht.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird101">101.</td>
+    <td>Guiana Kiskadee Tyrant—<i>Pitangus sulphuratus sulphuratus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird102">102.</td>
+    <td>Venezuela Kiskadee Tyrant—<i>Pitangus sulphuratus trinitatus</i> Hellm.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird103">103.</td>
+    <td>Lesser Kiskadee—<i>Pitangus lictor</i> (Cab.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird104">104.</td>
+    <td>Great-billed Kiskadee Tyrant—<i>Megarhynchus pitangua pitangua</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird105">105.</td>
+    <td>Streaked Flycatcher—<i>Myiodynastes maculatus maculatus</i> (Müll).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird106">106.</td>
+    <td>White-throated Kingbird—<i>Tyrannus melancholicus</i> (Vieill.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird107">107.</td>
+    <td>Buff-tailed Tyrantlet—<i>Terenotricus erythrurus erythrurus</i> (Cab.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">PIPRIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird108">108.</td>
+    <td>Golden-headed Manakin—<i>Pipra erythrocephala</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird109">109.</td>
+    <td>White capped Manakin—<i>Pipra leucocilla</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird110">110.</td>
+    <td>Golden crowned Pygmy Manakin—<i>Pipra brachyura</i> (Scl. and Sal.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird111">111.</td>
+    <td>White-breasted Manakin—<i>Manacus manacus manacus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird112">112.</td>
+    <td>Wallace’s Olive Manakin—<i>Scotothorus wallacii</i> (Scl. and Sal.).<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_393"></a>[393]</span></p></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">COTINGIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird113">113.</td>
+    <td>Black-tailed Tityra—<i>Tityra cayana</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird114">114.</td>
+    <td>Cinereus Becard—<i>Pachyrhamphus atricapillus</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird115">115.</td>
+    <td>Goldbird—<i>Lathria cinerea</i> (Vieill.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird116">116.</td>
+    <td>Pompadour Cotinga—<i>Xipholena pompadora</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird117">117.</td>
+    <td>Bare-headed Cotinga—<i>Calvifrons calvus</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">HIRUNDINIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird118">118.</td>
+    <td>Banded Swallow—<i>Atticora fasciata</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird119">119.</td>
+    <td>Variegated Swallow—<i>Tachycineta albiventris</i> (Bodd.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird120">120.</td>
+    <td>Tree Swallow—<i>Tachycineta bicolor</i> (Vieill.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird121">121.</td>
+    <td>Barn Swallow—<i>Hirundo erythrogaster</i> Bodd.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird122">122.</td>
+    <td>Gray-breasted Martin—<i>Progne chalybea chalybea</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird123">123.</td>
+    <td>Red-breasted Swallow—<i>Stelgidopteryx ruficollis</i> Baird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">TROGLODYTIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird124">124.</td>
+    <td>Guiana House Wren—<i>Troglodytes musculus clarus</i> Berlp. and Hart.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird125">125.</td>
+    <td>Necklaced Jungle Wren—<i>Leucolepia musica</i> (Bodd.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">MIMIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird126">126.</td>
+    <td>Black-capped Mocking-thrush—<i>Donacobius atricapillus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">TURDIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird127">127.</td>
+    <td>White-throated Robin—<i>Planesticus phaeopygus</i> (Cab.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird128">128.</td>
+    <td>White-breasted Robin—<i>Planesticus albiventer</i> Spix.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">VIREONIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird128a">128a.</td>
+    <td>Brown-fronted Jungle Vireo—<i>Pachysylvia ferrugineifrons</i> Scl.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">MNIOTILTIDAE</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird128b">128b.</td>
+    <td>American Redstart—<i>Setophaga ruticilla</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">FRINGILLIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird129">129.</td>
+    <td>Brown-breasted Pygmy Grosbeak—<i>Oryzoborus torridus</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird130">130.</td>
+    <td>Thick-billed Pygmy Grosbeak—<i>Oryzoborus crassirostris</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird131">131.</td>
+    <td>Blue-backed Seedeater—<i>Sporophila castaneiventris</i> (Cab.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird132">132.</td>
+    <td>Pygmy Seedeater—<i>Sporophila minuta minuta</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird133">133.</td>
+    <td>Yellow-bellied Seedeater—<i>Sporophila gutturalis</i> (Licht.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird134">134.</td>
+    <td>Black-headed Scarlet Grosbeak—<i>Pitylus erythromelas</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird135">135.</td>
+    <td>Black-faced Green Grosbeak—<i>Pitylus viridis</i> (Vieill.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">COEREBIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird136">136.</td>
+    <td>Yellow-winged Honey-creeper—<i>Cyanerpes cyancus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird136a">136a.</td>
+    <td>Blue Honey-creeper—<i>Cyanerpes caeruleus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird137">137.</td>
+    <td>Venezuela Bananaquit—<i>Coereba luteola</i> Cab.<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_394"></a>[394]</span></p></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">TANGARIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird138">138.</td>
+    <td>Purple-throated Euphonia—<i>Euphonia chlorotica</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird139">139.</td>
+    <td>Black-tailed Euphonia—<i>Euphonia melanura</i> Scl.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird140">140.</td>
+    <td>Violet Euphonia—<i>Euphonia violacea</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird141">141.</td>
+    <td>Black-faced Calliste—<i>Calospiza cayana</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird142">142.</td>
+    <td>Yellow-bellied Calliste—<i>Calospiza mexicana mexicana</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird143">143.</td>
+    <td>White-shouldered Blue Tanager—<i>Tangara episcopus episcopus</i> Linn.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird144">144.</td>
+    <td>Northern Palm Tanager—<i>Tangara palmarum melanoptera</i> Scl.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird145">145.</td>
+    <td>Northern Silver-beak Tanager—<i>Ramphocelus jacapa magnirostris</i> (Lafr.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird146">146.</td>
+    <td>Southern Silver-beak Tanager—<i>Ramphocelus jacapa japaca</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird147">147.</td>
+    <td>Magpie Tanager—<i>Cissopis leveriana</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">ICTERIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird148">148.</td>
+    <td>Black Parasitic Cassique—<i>Cassidix oryzivora oryzivora</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird149">149.</td>
+    <td>Great Black Cassique—<i>Ostinops decumanus</i> (Pall.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird150">150.</td>
+    <td>Green Cassique—<i>Ostinops viridis</i> (Müll.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird151">151.</td>
+    <td>Yellow-backed Cassique—<i>Cacicus persicus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird152">152.</td>
+    <td>Red-backed Cassique—<i>Cacicus affinis</i> Swains.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird153">153.</td>
+    <td>Guiana Cowbird—<i>Molothrus atronitens</i> (Cab.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird154">154.</td>
+    <td>Little Yellow-headed Blackbird—<i>Agelaius icterocephalus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird155">155.</td>
+    <td>Red-breasted Blackbird—<i>Leistes militaris</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird156">156.</td>
+    <td>Meadowlark—<i>Sturnella magna</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird157">157.</td>
+    <td>Guiana Meadowlark—<i>Sturnella magna meridionalis</i> (Scl.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird158">158.</td>
+    <td>Moriche Oriole—<i>Icterus chrysocephalus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird159">159.</td>
+    <td>Yellow Oriole—<i>Icterus xanthornus xanthornus</i> (Gmel.).</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird160">160.</td>
+    <td>Little Boat-tailed Grackle—<i>Quiscalus lugubris</i> Swains.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <th colspan="2">CORVIDAE.</th>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td class="tdr" id="bird161">161.</td>
+    <td>Lavender Jay—<i>Cyanocorax cayanus</i> (Linn.).</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_395"></a>[395]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="APPENDIX_B">APPENDIX B.<br>
+<span class="smcap">Native Guianan Names of Birds.</span></h2>
+
+</div>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Great Blue Tinamou—Maam.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Little Tinamou—Little Maam.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Curassow—Powis.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Guan—Maroodi.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Guiana Quail—Duraquara.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Chachalaca—Hanaqua.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Hoatzin—Canje Pheasant.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Purple Gallinule—Coot.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Guiana Wood Rail—Killicow.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Spur-winged Jacana—Spur-wing.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Skimmer—Scissor-bill.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Sun Bittern—Sun-bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Trumpeter—Warracabra.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Scarlet Ibis—Curri-curri.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Jabiru—Negrocop.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Wood Ibis—Nigger Head.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Tiger Bittern—Tiger-bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Herons—Chow or Shypook.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Cocoi Heron—Crane.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Horned Screamer—Mohuca.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Gray-necked Tree-duck—Vicissi.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Snake-bird—Ducklar.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Black Vulture—Carrion Crow.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Orange-headed Vulture—Governor Carrion Crow.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Caracara—Hen Hawk.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Owls—Night Owl.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Spectrum Parrakeet—Kissi-kissi.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Motmot—Hutu.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Hummingbirds—Doctor-birds.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Four-winged Cuckoo—Wife-sick.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Great Ani—Jumby-bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Smooth-billed Ani—Old Witch.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Toucan—Bill-bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Checked Ant-thrush—Dominique or Check-bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Cinnamon Spinetail—Rootie.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_396"></a>[396]</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Bell-bird—Campanero.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Gold-bird—Greenheart-bird—Pĭ-pī-yŏ.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Cinereus Becard—Woodpecker.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>White-shouldered Ground Flycatcher—Cotton-bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Southern Scissor-tailed Flycatcher—Scissor-tail.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Guiana Kiskadee Tyrant—Kiskadee.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>White-throated King-bird—Madeira or Gray Kiskadee.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>White-headed Marsh Flycatcher—Parson-bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Cinereus Tody-flycatcher—Pipitoorie.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Yellow-breasted Elanea Flycatcher—Muff-bird or Muffin.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Guiana House Wren—God- or Guard-bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Necklaced Jungle Wren—Quadrille Bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>White-throated Robin—Thrush.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Yellow Warbler—Bastard Canary.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Brown-breasted Pygmy Grosbeak—Toua-toua.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Thick-billed Pygmy Grosbeak—Twa-twa.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Blue-backed Seedeater—Blue-back.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Pygmy Seedeater—Fire-red.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Crown-headed Seedeater—Crown-head.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Plain-headed Seedeater—Plain-head.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Lineated Seedeater—Ring-neck.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Pee-zing Grassquit—Pee-zing.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Honey Creepers—Hummingbirds.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Yellow-bellied Calliste—Goldfinch.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Black-faced Calliste—Bucktown Sackie.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Violet Euphonia—Bucktown Canary.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Blue Tanager—Blue Sackie.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Palm Tanager—Cocoanut Sackie.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Silver-beak Tanager—Cashew Sackie.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>White-lined Tanager—Black-sage Sackie.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Olive Saltator—Tom-pitcher.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Little Boat-tail Grackle—Black-bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Guiana Cowbird—Corn-bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Black Parasitic Cassique—Rice-bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Yellow-backed Cassique—Yellow Bunyah or Mockingbird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Red-backed Cassique—Red Bunyah.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Red-breasted Blackbird—Robin Red-breast.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Little Yellow-headed Blackbird—Yellow-head.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Moriche Oriole—Cadoorie.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Yellow Oriole—Yellow Plantain Bird.</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Guiana Meadowlark—Savannah Starling.</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_397"></a>[397]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="APPENDIX_C">APPENDIX C.</h2>
+
+</div>
+
+<h3>ALPHABETICAL LIST OF HOORIE ORTHOPTERA.</h3>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Acontista perspicua</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Anaulecomara furcata</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Colpolopha obsoluta</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Creoxylus spinosus</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Enopterna surinamensis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Gryllotalpa hexadactyla</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Moncheca nigricauda</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Posidippus degeeri</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Prisopus flabelliformis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Pseudophasma phthisicus</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Pterochroza ocellata</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Schistocerca flavofasciata</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Vates lobata</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<h3>NEW SPECIES OF MANTIS.</h3>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Stagmomantis hoorie Caudell</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<h3>ALPHABETICAL LIST OF HOORIE MOTHS.</h3>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Anacraga citrina</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Anthocroca cuneifera</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Apatelodes pandarioides</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Apela divisa</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Argeus labruscae</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Argyrostoma nitidisquama</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Attacus erycina</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Automeris cinctistriga</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Automolis semirosea</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Azelina gammaria</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Ballantiophona gibbiferata</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Baeotarcha coemaroalis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Berberodes simplex</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Capnodes subrutilans</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Carthara ennomoides</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Chrysocestis fimbriaria</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Claphe braganza</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Claphe mediana</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Claphe morens</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Claphe namora</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Coenipeta bibitrix</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Colla gaudialis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Dasygnia meterythra</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Desmia funeralis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Dichromapteryx dimidiata</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Dirphia tarquinia</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Drepanodes agrionaria</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Dyasia viviana</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Eudioptis hyalinata</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Epicepsis gnoma</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Euagra collestina</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Euclea cippus</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Gonodonta pyrgo</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Gonopinea albilunalis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Hadena regressa</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Hylesia inficita</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Hyperchiria liberia</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Hyperchiria nausica</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Ingura circularia</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Iza rufigrisea<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_398"></a>[398]</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Lepasta conspicua</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Letis occidua</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Leucinodes elegantalis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Lysana plexa</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Maerodes columbalis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Malocanpa Eugenia</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Melese castrena</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Neritos coccinea</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Neritos phaeoplaza</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Olceclostera mira</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Olceclostera satellitia</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Orthogramma rufotibia</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Pamea notata</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Peosina helima</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Phyllodonta cajanuma</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Prepiella radicans</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Pronola fraterna</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Prumala ilus</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Racheolopha confluaria</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Racheolopha nivetacta</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Racheolopha pallida</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Racheolopha sarptaria</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Racheospila intensa</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Rifargia apella</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Rolepa cuprea</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Rosema zelica</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Samea ebulealis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Samea gealis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Scolecocampa liburna</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Stericta abrupta</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Stericta multicolor</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Stictoptera</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Tachyphyle acuta</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Tanasphysa adornatalis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Thysania agrippina</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Tosale velutina</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Trosea ignicornis</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Urga parallela</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Vipsophobetron marinna</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<h3>NEW SPECIES OF HOORIE MOTHS.</h3>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Acropteryx opulenta</td>
+    <td>Dyar</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Capnodes albicosta</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Claphe laudissima</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Emarginea empyra</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Eois costalis</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Hadena niphetodes</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Hemipecten cleptes</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Hylesia indurata</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Illice biota</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Ischnurges bicoloralis</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Macalla pallidomedia</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Neophaenis aedemon</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Paracraga amianta</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Rifargia phanerostigma</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Saccopleura lycealis</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Thermesia dorsilinea</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Trosia nigripes</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td>Zatrephes cardytera</td>
+    <td><span class="ditto">”</span></td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<h3>NEW GENERA AND NEW SPECIES OF HOORIE MOTHS.</h3>
+
+<table>
+  <tr>
+    <td><i>Dichocrocopsis</i>—Dichocrocopsis maculiferalis Dyar</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><i>Hositea</i>—Hositea gynaecia Dyar</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><i>Incarcha</i>—Incarcha aporalis Dyar</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><i>Minacragides</i>—Minacragides arnacis Dyar</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><i>Thyonoea</i>—Thyonaea dremma Dyar</td>
+  </tr>
+  <tr>
+    <td><i>Zaevius</i>—Zaevius calocore Dyar</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>The Photographs and descriptions of these new genera and species
+have been published in Zoölogica, Vol. 1, No. 4.</p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_399"></a>[399]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="INDEX">INDEX.</h2>
+
+<p class="center">Illustrations are indicated by page numbers in Italic.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<ul>
+
+<li class="ifrst">A.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Abary, Birds of, <a href="#Page_364">364</a>, <a href="#Page_365">365</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Bungalow, <a href="#Page_358"><i>358</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Island, <a href="#Page_358"><i>358</i></a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">River, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_360">360</a>, <a href="#Page_362"><i>362</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Admetus pumilio</i>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190"><i>190</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Aequidens</i>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_69"><i>69</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Agouti, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_312"><i>312</i></a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Agraulis vanillae</i>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Amazon Parrot. <i>See</i> <a href="#Parrots">Parrots</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">American Redstarts, accompanying army of hunting ants, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Anableps anableps.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Four-eyed_Fish">Four-eyed Fish</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Anaconda">Anaconda, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_27"><i>27</i></a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">André, Eugene, <a href="#Page_x">x</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_89">89</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Anis">Anis, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>, <a href="#Page_358">358</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Accompanying army of hunting ants, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Greater, flock of, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>, <a href="#Page_157">157</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Smooth-billed, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Anna Regina, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Anopheles</i>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Antbirds, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Accompanying army of hunting ants, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Scaly-backed, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">White-shouldered Pigmy, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Anteater, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Great, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_257"><i>257</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Anteater_Lesser">Lesser, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>, <a href="#Page_306"><i>306</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Ants, Black, (<i>Neoponera commutata</i>), <a href="#Page_49">49</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Battle with hunting ants, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Houses of, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Hunting Ants (<i>Eciton</i>), <a href="#Page_49">49-54</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Battle with Black Ants, <a href="#Page_52">52</a>, <a href="#Page_53">53</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Warfare in nests of other species, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Parasol, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_217">217</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Fungi gardens of, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Aremu, Camp on, <a href="#Page_274"><i>274</i></a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Aremu">Gold Mine, <a href="#Page_285">285-288</a>, <a href="#Page_287"><i>287</i></a>, <a href="#Page_289"><i>289</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Landing, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Little, <a href="#Page_244">244-284</a>, <a href="#Page_276"><i>276</i></a>, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">River, Big, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Argeus labruscae</i>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Armadillo, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Atta cephalotes</i>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Attacus (Hesperia) erycina</i>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Automeria cinctistriga</i>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">B.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Baboons. <i>See</i> <a href="#Monkeys_Red_Howling">Monkey, Red Howling</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Bananaquits, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Barama River, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_216"><i>216</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Entrance of, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Our tent boat on the, <a href="#Page_159"><i>159</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Barima River, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Barrabarra River, <a href="#Page_219"><i>219</i></a>, <a href="#Page_222">222-225</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Barrimani Police Station, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Bartica, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Bashew, <a href="#Page_165">165</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Bats, Fruit-eating, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Manner of alighting, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Number of species of, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Scarab, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Vampires. <i>See</i> <a href="#Vampires">Vampires</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Bee, Giant, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Beetles_Bark">Beetles, Bark, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Brazilian, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Buprestid, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Elater, Brown, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Larva of small species of, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Longicorn, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Beetles_Tiger">Tiger, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Bete_rouge">Bête rouge, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Biara River, <a href="#Page_220">220-222</a>, <a href="#Page_226"><i>226</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Bingham, Dr. Hiram, <a href="#Page_xi">xi</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Birds brought alive from British Guiana to New York Zoölogical Park, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_400"></a>[400]</span>Bird Protection Ordinance of British Guiana, <a href="#Page_115">115</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Blaberus trapezoideus.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Cockroach">Cockroach</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Blackbird, Red-breasted, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Yellow-headed, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_351">351</a>, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Blacks. <i>See</i> <a href="#Negro">Negro</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Bois Immortelle trees, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Botanical Gardens, experimental botanical work, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Fauna of, <a href="#Page_129">129-131</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Brassias</i>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">British Guiana, climatic condition of coast of, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Bufo agua</i>, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_123"><i>123</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Buffalo, Water, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Bunyahs. <i>See</i> <a href="#Cassique_Red-backed">Cassique, Red-backed</a> <i>and</i> <a href="#Cassique_Yellow-backed">Yellow-backed</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Bushmaster, <a href="#Page_182"><i>182</i></a>, <a href="#Page_183"><i>183</i></a>, <a href="#Page_184">184</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Bush-rope, aërial roots of, <a href="#Page_296"><i>296</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Butterflies">Butterflies, black and white, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Ghost, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Heliconias, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Milkweed, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Morphos, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Orange shaded, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Two species of, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Orchid, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_251"><i>251</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Orange, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Owl, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42"><i>42</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Papilio, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Red Silver-wing, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Swallow-tailed, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Butterfly_Transparent">Transparent, <a href="#Page_196"><i>196</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Yellow, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">C.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Calf-bird. <i>See</i> <a href="#Cotinga_Bare-headed">Cotinga, Bare-headed</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Caligo ilioneus</i>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Calliste, Black-faced, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Yellow-bellied, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Callidryas statira</i>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Calomesus psittacus</i>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Camaria Landing, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Falls at Lower, <a href="#Page_249"><i>249</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Upper, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Caño San Juan, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Caños, exploring in dug-out, <a href="#Page_21"><i>21</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Canthon semiopacus</i>, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Capnodes albicosta</i>, <a href="#Page_288">288</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Captain Truxillo, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_74">74</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_78"><i>78</i></a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>, <a href="#Page_91">91</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Capuchin Monkey, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Capybara">Capybara, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_233"><i>233</i></a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_255"><i>255</i></a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_381">381</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Caracara, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Carey-Elwis, Father, Mission of, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Carib, Fish. <i>See</i> <a href="#Perai">Perai</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Indian hunter and children, <a href="#Page_178"><i>178</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Indian huts at Hoorie, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_181">181</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Indians, three generations of, <a href="#Page_180"><i>180</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Carnegiella strigatus</i>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Cassiques, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Big Green, Courtship of, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Flocking of, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Nests of, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_236"><i>236</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Notes of, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Cassique_Red-backed">Red-backed, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Colony of at Hoorie, <a href="#Page_202">202-209</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Eggs of, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Embryo, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Food of, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Nests of, <a href="#Page_204"><i>204</i></a>, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Young birds, <a href="#Page_205">205</a>, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Cassique_Yellow-backed">Yellow-backed, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Nesting of, <a href="#Page_33"><i>33</i></a>, <a href="#Page_34"><i>34</i></a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_253">253</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Castina licus</i>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_251"><i>251</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Castus</i> sp., <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_193"><i>193</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Caterpillar, black, <a href="#Page_328">328</a>, <a href="#Page_329"><i>329</i></a>, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Catfish, Crucifix, <a href="#Page_13"><i>13</i></a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Catfish_Armored">Armored, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Of Guiana, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Centis americana</i>, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Centrurus margaritatus</i>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Cercoleptes caudivolvulus</i>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Chachalaca, Abundance near Guanoco, <a href="#Page_38"><i>38</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Voice of, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Chameleon caterpillar, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Chrysocestis fimbriaria</i>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Choloepus</i>, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Cicadas, Chant of, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Chinese music of giant species, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_401"></a>[401]</span><i>Cicada grossa</i>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_302">302</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Six-o’clock bee, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Cinereus Becard, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Clavillina</i>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Cockroach">Cockroach, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Coelogenys paca</i>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Colaenis phaerusa</i>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Congo Pump, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_273">273</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Coolie, of British Guiana, <a href="#Page_117"><i>117</i></a>, <a href="#Page_118">118</a>, <a href="#Page_150">150</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Indenture system, <a href="#Page_148">148-149</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Coolies and their wives fishing in Essequibo, <a href="#Page_247"><i>247</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Cormorant, Guiana, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Cotinga, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Cotinga_Bare-headed">Bare-headed, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Pompadour, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Cotton Bird. <i>See</i> <a href="#Flycatcher_White-shouldered_Ground">Flycatcher, White-shouldered Ground</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Couchi-couchi. <i>See</i> <a href="#Kinkajou">Kinkajou</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Cowbird, Guiana, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_202">202</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Crab Oil. <i>See</i> <a href="#Bete_rouge">Bête rouge</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Crabs, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Dancing, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Enemies of, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Inhabiting roots of mangroves, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Inhabiting trunks and branches of mangroves, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Method of catching, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Mimicry among, <a href="#Page_17">17</a>, <a href="#Page_18">18</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Crab wood, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Crandall, Lee S., <a href="#Page_ix">ix,</a> <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_182"><i>182</i></a>, <a href="#Page_207">207</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_209">209</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Creepers, Blue Honey, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Honey, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Yellow-winged Honey, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Crew. <i>See</i> <a href="#Sloop">Sloop</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Crocodiles, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Canal of, <a href="#Page_130"><i>130</i></a>, <a href="#Page_380"><i>380</i></a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>, <a href="#Page_382">382</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Of the Aremu, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Cuckoos, Chestnut, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Cumaca trees, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Curassow, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Crested, courtship of, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_333"><i>333</i></a>, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, <a href="#Page_336">336</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_337"><i>337</i></a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Curlews, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Cuyuni River, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>, <a href="#Page_254"><i>254</i></a>, <a href="#Page_259"><i>259</i></a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Flowers of, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Rapids of, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_260"><i>260</i></a>, <a href="#Page_261"><i>261</i></a>, <a href="#Page_262"><i>262</i></a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_264"><i>264</i></a>, <a href="#Page_266"><i>266</i></a>, <a href="#Page_267">267</a>, <a href="#Page_270"><i>270</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">D.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Deer, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_319">319</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Deer_Savanna">Savanna, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Dendrobates trivittatus</i>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>, <a href="#Page_294">294</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Desmodus rufus.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Vampires">Vampire</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Dicotyles labiatus.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Peccary_White-lipped">Peccary, White-lipped</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Dicotyles tajacu.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Peccary_Common">Peccary, Common</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Dirphia tarquinia</i>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Dolphins, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Douraquara. <i>See</i> <a href="#Quail">Quail, Guiana</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Dove, Red-winged Ground, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Dragon Fly, <a href="#Page_270">270</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1"><i>Diastatops tincta</i>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1"><i>Erythrodiplax umbrata</i>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1"><i>Erythrodiplax peruviana</i>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Dress suitable for woman on jungle trips, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>, <a href="#Page_196">196</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Drowned Forest of Hoorie, <a href="#Page_198">198-202</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Ducks, Gray-necked Tree, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>, <a href="#Page_356"><i>356</i></a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Muscovy, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_357">357</a>, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Rufous Tree, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Vicissi, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">E.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Eagle, Guiana Crested, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Eciton</i>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Egrets, American, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_352"><i>352</i></a>, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Snowy, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Elainia.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Flycatchers">Flycatchers</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Electric eels, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Encounter with curiara in the Guarapiche, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Epidendrum fragrans</i>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Epidendrum nocturnum</i>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Epidendrum odoratum</i>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Essequibo River, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Euchroma goliath</i>, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Eudioptis hyalinata</i>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Eunectes murinus.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Anaconda">Anaconda</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_402"></a>[402]</span>Euphonia, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Black-tailed, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Purple-throated, <a href="#Page_319">319</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Violet, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Euptoieta hegesia</i>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">F.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Farnum’s, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Felis concolor</i>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Ferns, tree, on Little Aremu, <a href="#Page_278"><i>278</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Filo, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Flamingo, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Flycatchers">Flycatchers, Elania, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_132"><i>132</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Flycatcher_Gray_Tody">Gray Tody, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Kiskadee, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_114"><i>114</i></a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_357">357</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Streaked, accompanying army of hunting ants, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>, <a href="#Page_51"><i>51</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Tyrant, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>,</li>
+<li class="isub2">accompanying army of hunting ants, <a href="#Page_50">50</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Flycatcher_White-shouldered_Ground">White-shouldered Ground, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">White-headed Marsh, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Flying Fish, Fresh Water, <a href="#Page_252"><i>252</i></a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Salt Water, <a href="#Page_253"><i>253</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Forest, drowned, <a href="#Page_199"><i>199</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Four-eyed_Fish">Four-eyed Fish, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_16"><i>16</i></a>, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_239">239</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Devoured by Crocodile, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Eyes of, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Fowler, Mr., <a href="#Page_275">275</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Francis, Jungle craft of, <a href="#Page_316">316</a>, <a href="#Page_317">317</a>, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_322">322</a>, <a href="#Page_326">326</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Frederick, <a href="#Page_147">147-148</a>, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_152"><i>152</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">French, Mr., <a href="#Page_248">248</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Frigate-bird, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Frog, Bleating Calf, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Castanet, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Freight engine, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Roaring, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Wing-beat, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">G.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Galictis barbara</i>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Gallinules, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Purple, <a href="#Page_378">378</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Georgetown, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Beauty of, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Botanical Gardens of, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Chief points of attraction of, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Inhabitants of, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_114">114</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Museum of, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Sea Wall of, <a href="#Page_119"><i>119</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Street life of, <a href="#Page_116">116-118</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Street of, <a href="#Page_113"><i>113</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Typical day of, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Gillett, Father, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_228"><i>228</i></a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Gold_Bird">Gold Bird, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_275">275</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Gold, Long Tom process, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_186">186</a>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Mines. <i>See</i> <a href="#Aremu">Aremu</a>, <a href="#Hoorie">Hoorie</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Panning, <a href="#Page_185">185</a>, <a href="#Page_186"><i>186</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Golden Shower Orchid, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Gonodonta pyrgo</i>, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Grackle, Little Boat-tailed, <a href="#Page_128">128</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Grassfinches, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Grell, Ellis, <a href="#Page_x">x</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_90">90</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Greenheart Bird. <i>See</i> <a href="#Gold_Bird">Gold Bird</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Green_River_Ibis">Green River Ibis, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Grosbeaks, Black-faced Green, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Black-headed Scarlet, <a href="#Page_315">315</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Grosbeak_Brown-breasted_Pigmy">Brown-breasted Pigmy, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Grosbeak_Thick-billed_Pigmy">Thick-billed Pigmy, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Gryllus argentinus</i>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Guanoco, Children of, <a href="#Page_100"><i>100</i></a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Dances at, <a href="#Page_97">97-103</a>, <a href="#Page_104">104</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Fever at, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">First night at, <a href="#Page_90">90-93</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">“Headquarters” at, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>, <a href="#Page_88">88</a>, <a href="#Page_97">97</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Inhabitants of, <a href="#Page_97"><i>97</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Priestless chapel at, <a href="#Page_105"><i>105</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Quarrel with United States of America, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Revolutionary reports at, <a href="#Page_98">98</a>, <a href="#Page_99">99</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">River of, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Suffering that came to, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>, <a href="#Page_107">107</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Village of, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Women of, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Guan">Guan, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Jacupeba, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Marail, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Guarapiche River, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_82">82</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Guarauno Indians, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">At Caño Colorado, <a href="#Page_83"><i>83</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_403"></a>[403]</span>Papoose, <a href="#Page_107"><i>107</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Squaws, <a href="#Page_85"><i>85</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Wandering tribes of, <a href="#Page_103">103</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Guard_Ship">Guard Ship, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Venezuelan soldiers on board of, <a href="#Page_76"><i>76</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Guava, Water, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Gulls, Laughing, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">H.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Haasnoot, Captain, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Haetera piera.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Butterfly_Transparent">Butterfly, Transparent</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Harrison, Prof. J. B., <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Harry, Mr., <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Hawk, Caracara, <a href="#Page_371">371</a>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Chimachima, White-breasted, <a href="#Page_62"><i>62</i></a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Cream-headed, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">South American Black, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Heliconia butterfly. <i>See</i> <a href="#Butterflies">Butterflies</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Heliconias, Scarlet, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Hemiptycha (Umbonia) spinosa</i>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Herons, Agami, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Boat-billed, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Cocoi, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_245">245</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Heron_Guiana_Green">Guiana Green, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_355">355</a>, <a href="#Page_371">371</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Immature Blue, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Little Blue, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Louisiana, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Yellow-crowned Night, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Herpetodryas carinatus</i>, <a href="#Page_386">386</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Hoatzins, Eggs of, <a href="#Page_371">371</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Enemies of, <a href="#Page_371">371</a>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Flight of, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Flock of, <a href="#Page_377"><i>377</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Food of, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Habits of, at Abary, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>, <a href="#Page_368">368</a>, <a href="#Page_369"><i>369</i></a>, <a href="#Page_370"><i>370</i></a>,
+    <a href="#Page_372"><i>372</i></a>, <a href="#Page_373"><i>373</i></a>, <a href="#Page_375"><i>375</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Nesting of, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_366"><i>366</i></a>, <a href="#Page_371">371</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Number at Abary, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">On the Guarapiche, <a href="#Page_28"><i>28</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Photographing, <a href="#Page_367"><i>367</i></a>, <a href="#Page_372">372</a>, <a href="#Page_373">373</a>, <a href="#Page_374">374</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Sedentary life of, <a href="#Page_28"><i>28</i></a>, <a href="#Page_29">29</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Use of wings, <a href="#Page_374">374</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Voice of, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_365">365</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Young of, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Hodgson, Sir Frederick, <a href="#Page_x">x</a>, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Homalocranium melanocephalum</i>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Hoorie">Hoorie mine, Average daily temperature at, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Bungalow, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Creek, <a href="#Page_164">164</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Crossing stream on road to, <a href="#Page_167"><i>167</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Drowned forest of, <a href="#Page_198">198-202</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Fauna around, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_209">209</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Flora of, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_195">195</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Indian life near, <a href="#Page_179">179-184</a>, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Hoorie_Insects">Insects of, <a href="#Page_209">209-213</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">“Little Giant” at, <a href="#Page_175"><i>175</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Mine, <a href="#Page_167">167-169</a>, <a href="#Page_172"><i>172</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Wilderness trail to, <a href="#Page_165">165-167</a>, <a href="#Page_168"><i>168</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Hoplias malabaricus</i>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>, <a href="#Page_69"><i>69</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Hornaday, Dr. William T., <a href="#Page_xi">xi</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Hositea gynaecia</i>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Hummingbird, Long-tailed, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Rufous breasted, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">White eye-browed, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Hydrochoerus capybara.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Capybara">Capybara</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Hyperchiria Liberia</i>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Hyperchiria nausica</i>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">I.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Ibis. <i>See</i> <a href="#Green_River_Ibis">Green River</a>. <i>See</i> <a href="#Scarlet_Ibis">Scarlet</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="im_Thurn">im Thurn, Sir Everard, house of, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_143"><i>143</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Indian and the Law, <a href="#Page_151">151</a>, <a href="#Page_152">152</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Boys in dug-out, <a href="#Page_162"><i>162</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Three-year-olds at home in wood-skin, <a href="#Page_138"><i>138</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Insects. <i>See</i> <a href="#Hoorie_Insects">Hoorie</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Mounting of, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">J.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Jabiru, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>, <a href="#Page_354"><i>354</i></a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Jacamar, home of, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Paradise, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Jacana, Spur-wing, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>, <a href="#Page_378">378</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_384"><i>384</i></a>, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">“Josefa Jacinta.” <i>See</i> <a href="#Sloop">Sloop</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Jaguar, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_293">293</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Jays, Lavender, <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Jelly-fish, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Jones, Mr. B. Howell, <a href="#Page_x">x</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Jumbie Birds. <i>See</i> <a href="#Anis">Anis</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_404"></a>[404]</span>K.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Killicow. <i>See</i> <a href="#Rail">Rail, Cayenne Wood</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">King, Howie, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">As magistrate of Morawhanna, <a href="#Page_149">149-151</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Garden of, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">House of, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Kingbirds, White-throated, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Kingfishers, Feeding on insects, <a href="#Page_16">16</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Red-breasted, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Rufous, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Kinkajou">Kinkajou, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Kiskadee. <i>See</i> <a href="#Flycatchers">Flycatchers</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Kites, Swallow-tailed, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">L.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Labba. <i>See</i> <a href="#Paca">Paca</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">La Brea, <a href="#Page_x">x</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_59"><i>59</i></a>. <i>See</i> also <a href="#Pitch_Lake">Pitch Lake</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">La Ceiba, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Our floating home at, <a href="#Page_18"><i>18</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Lilies">Lilies, Spider, <a href="#Page_57"><i>57</i></a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_363"><i>363</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Lizards, At Morawhanna, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Protective coloration of, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_44"><i>44</i></a>, <a href="#Page_45"><i>45</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Tegu, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Loricates. <i>See</i> <a href="#Catfish_Armored">Catfish, Armored</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Lotus, <a href="#Page_126"><i>126</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">M.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Macaws, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Blue and Yellow, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Maestro, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, <a href="#Page_85">85</a>, <a href="#Page_87">87</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Manakin, Golden-crowned, <a href="#Page_342">342</a>, <a href="#Page_343"><i>343</i></a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Gold-headed, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Wallace Olive, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">White-breasted, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">White-capped, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Manatee">Manatee, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_221"><i>221</i></a>, <a href="#Page_222"><i>222</i></a>, <a href="#Page_224"><i>224</i></a>,
+    <a href="#Page_381">381</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Mangrove, Flowers of, <a href="#Page_15">15</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Jungle, description of, <a href="#Page_9">9-12</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Manner of preparation of, <a href="#Page_10">10</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Map of trip through, <a href="#Page_2">2</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Red, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Sunset in Mangrove wilderness, <a href="#Page_80"><i>80</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">White, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Wilderness, <a href="#Page_95"><i>95</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Young plants, <a href="#Page_11"><i>11</i></a>, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Mantis">Mantis, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1"><i>Stagmomantis hoorie</i>, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Map, of Abary Island, <a href="#Page_361"><i>361</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Of three expeditions into British Guiana, <a href="#Page_110"><i>110</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Of trip through Mangrove Wilderness, <a href="#Page_2"><i>2</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Marciano, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_223">223</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_242">242</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Marlborough Police Station, <a href="#Page_237">237</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Maroodie. <i>See</i> <a href="#Guan">Guan</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Martins, Gray Breasted, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_245"><i>245</i></a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Matope, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Mazaruni River, <a href="#Page_244">244</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Steamer, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Maximiliano Romero, <a href="#Page_101">101-102</a>, <a href="#Page_106">106</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Mecistogaster</i> sp., <a href="#Page_270">270</a>, <a href="#Page_271">271</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Mesomphalia discors</i>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Mission, on Morooka River, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Warramuri, <a href="#Page_231">231</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Monkeys, Capuchin, <a href="#Page_6">6</a>, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Marmoset, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">No fear of railroad, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Monkeys_Red_Howling">Red Howling, Description of, <a href="#Page_325">325-326</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">As food, <a href="#Page_329">329</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Voice of, <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_197">197</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_293">293</a>, <a href="#Page_325">325</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Monstera</i>, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Mora Passage, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_301">301</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Mora Tree, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>, <a href="#Page_296"><i>296</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Morawhanna, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Typical Indian House of, <a href="#Page_136"><i>136</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Home of Mr. Howie King at, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Morooka River, <a href="#Page_225">225</a>, <a href="#Page_231">231</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Agriculture on, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Morpho butterfly. <i>See</i> <a href="#Butterflies">Butterflies</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Morpho metellus</i>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Mosquitoes, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, <a href="#Page_112">112-114</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_214">214</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>, <a href="#Page_362">362</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_364">364</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Moths, Hawk, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Moth_Moon">Moon, <a href="#Page_210">210</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Owl, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_405"></a>[405]</span>Waltzing, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Mountains of Venezuela, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_31"><i>31</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Mount Everard, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_140"><i>140</i></a>, <a href="#Page_141">141</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Bête rouge of, <a href="#Page_144">144-146</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Mucka-mucka, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>, <a href="#Page_366">366</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Muricot, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Mycetes seniculus.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Monkeys_Red_Howling">Monkey, Red Howling</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Myrmecophaga jubata</i>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_257">257</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">N.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Negro">Negro of British Guiana, <a href="#Page_117"><i>117</i></a>, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Neoponera commutata</i>, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Nicholson, Mr., <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_332">332</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Notogonia</i> sp. <i>See</i> <a href="#Wasps">Wasps</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Nyctobates giganteus.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Beetles_Bark">Beetles, Bark</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">O.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Odocoileus savannarum.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Deer_Savanna">Deer, Savanna</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Odontochila cayennensis.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Beetles_Tiger">Beetles, Tiger</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Odontochila confusa.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Beetles_Tiger">Beetles, Tiger</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Odontochila lacordairei.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Beetles_Tiger">Beetles, Tiger</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Opossum, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Orchids, fragrant white, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_23"><i>23</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Orinoco River, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Orioles, Moriche, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Yellow, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Ospreys, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Otter, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>, <a href="#Page_281">281</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">P.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Paca">Paca, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Paddle-wood, <a href="#Page_191">191</a>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, <a href="#Page_325"><i>325</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Palm sheath, rocking toy, <a href="#Page_100"><i>100</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Covering flower of palm, <a href="#Page_102"><i>102</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Papilio polydamus</i>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Parauque, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Paria, Gulf of, <a href="#Page_5">5</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Parrakeets, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Parrots">Parrots, Amazon, Mealy, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Blue-headed, flocking of, <a href="#Page_157">157-158</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Dusky, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Young of, <a href="#Page_344"><i>344</i></a>, <a href="#Page_345">345</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Yellow fronted, <a href="#Page_66"><i>66</i></a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Eggs of, <a href="#Page_67"><i>67</i></a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Home of, <a href="#Page_64"><i>64</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Island of in Pitch Lake, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_63"><i>63</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Nest of, <a href="#Page_65"><i>65</i></a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Young of, <a href="#Page_67"><i>67</i></a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Passiflora laurifolia.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Passion_Flower">Passion Flower</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Passion_Flower">Passion Flower, <a href="#Page_272"><i>272</i></a>, <a href="#Page_273">273</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Paxillus leachii</i>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Peccary_Common">Peccary, common, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_233">233</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_347"><i>347</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1" id="Peccary_White-lipped">White-lipped, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Pe-pe-yo. <i>See</i> <a href="#Gold_Bird">Gold Bird</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Perai">Perai, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_198">198</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Peridromia feronia</i>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Peripatus, discovery of and description of, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Perseverance Landing, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Petræa arborea</i>, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Phosphorescence off coast of British Guiana, <a href="#Page_111">111</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Pickersgill Police Station, <a href="#Page_239">239</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Pieris monuste</i>, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Pigmy Owl, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Pipe-fish, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Pipitoori. <i>See</i> <a href="#Flycatcher_Gray_Tody">Flycatcher, Gray Tody</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Pistia stratiodes.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Shell_Flower">Shell Flower</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Pitch_Lake">Pitch Lake, of Venezuela, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_59"><i>59</i></a>, <a href="#Page_88"><i>88</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Daily life at, <a href="#Page_94">94-96</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Digging pitch, <a href="#Page_90"><i>90</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Early morning trips to, <a href="#Page_55">55-61</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Flora of, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>, <a href="#Page_64">64</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">History of, <a href="#Page_91">91-92</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Jungle railroad to, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>, <a href="#Page_56"><i>56</i></a>, <a href="#Page_57">57</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Loading cars at, <a href="#Page_93"><i>93</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">“Mother” of, <a href="#Page_61"><i>61</i></a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_63">63</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Plover, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Poc-a-poo, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Poeciloptera phalaenoides</i>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_133">133</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Polybia</i> sp., <a href="#Page_299">299</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Pomeroon River, <a href="#Page_234">234-240</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Pontón. <i>See</i> <a href="#Guard_Ship">Guard Ship</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Porcupine Tree, <a href="#Page_36"><i>36</i></a>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Pork-knocker, <a href="#Page_187">187</a>, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_287">287</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_288">288</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_406"></a>[406]</span>Port of Spain, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Street life of, <a href="#Page_119">119</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Protective resemblances, <a href="#Page_41">41</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_43">43</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Pseudaucheniplerus nodosus</i>, <a href="#Page_13">13</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Psidium fluviatile</i>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Pterochroya ocellata</i>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Puff-fishes, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_15"><i>15</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Puma, South America, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Purple heart trees, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Pyrophorus</i> sp., <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_55">55</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">Q.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Quadrille-bird">Quadrille-bird, <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, <a href="#Page_309">309</a>, <a href="#Page_310">310</a>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Quail">Quail, Guiana, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">R.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Racheolopha nivetacta</i>, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Rail">Rail, Cayenne Wood, <a href="#Page_378">378</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Robins, White-breasted, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">White-throated, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>, <a href="#Page_323"><i>323</i></a>, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Rhyncophorus palmatum.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Weevil">Weevil</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Rodway, James, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">S.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Salapenta, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Saman Trees, <a href="#Page_132">132</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Sandpipers, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Solitary, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Spotted, <a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Sapadillo, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Scarlet_Ibis">Scarlet Ibis, <a href="#Page_7">7</a>, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Scorpion">Scorpion, <a href="#Page_39"><i>39</i></a>, <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Battle with Caterpillar, <a href="#Page_291">291</a>, <a href="#Page_292"><i>292</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Whip, <a href="#Page_189">189</a>, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Screamer, Horned, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Sea-cows. <i>See</i> <a href="#Manatee">Manatee</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Seedeaters, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Blue-backed, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Semiotus ligneus</i>, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Serenades, by negroes from Pitch Lake, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Serrasalmo scapularis</i>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Shell_Flower">Shell Flower, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Shypook. <i>See</i> <a href="#Heron_Guiana_Green">Heron, Guiana Green</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Silk Cotton Trees, <a href="#Page_163">163</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Sigh heard in the Mangrove forest and explanation of, <a href="#Page_26">26</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Simitu">Simitú, <a href="#Page_272"><i>272</i></a>, <a href="#Page_273">273</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Skimmers, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_135">135</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Sloop">Sloop, Anchored in Guanoco River, <a href="#Page_72"><i>72</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">At La Ceiba, <a href="#Page_18"><i>18</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Description of, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Description of crew of, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Entering Mangroves, <a href="#Page_5"><i>5</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">First night on board, <a href="#Page_72">72-75</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Loss of, <a href="#Page_108">108</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Saying good-by to, <a href="#Page_93">93</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Sloths, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_61">61</a>, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Three-toed, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>, <a href="#Page_280"><i>280</i></a>, <a href="#Page_281"><i>281</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Snake-birds, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>, <a href="#Page_251">251</a>, <a href="#Page_252">252</a>, <a href="#Page_354">354</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Sphingurus prehensilis</i>, <a href="#Page_36"><i>36</i></a>, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Spider lilies. <i>See</i> <a href="#Lilies">Lilies</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Spider, Pedipalp. <i>See</i> <a href="#Scorpion">Scorpion</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Sproston, <a href="#Page_248">248</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Squirrels, Orange and gray, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Stagmomantis hoorie.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Mantis">Mantis</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Stomolophus meleagris</i>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Stork, Maguari, <a href="#Page_155">155</a>, <a href="#Page_156">156</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Sugarcane, experimented on in Botanical Gardens, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Sun-bittern, <a href="#Page_25"><i>25</i></a>, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Suddie, <a href="#Page_243"><i>243</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Swallows, Banded, <a href="#Page_162">162</a>, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Barn, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Emerald and white, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Red-breasted, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Tree, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Variegated, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_265">265</a>, <a href="#Page_378">378</a>, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Swift, Feather-toed, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub2">Nest of, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, <a href="#Page_176">176</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Gray-rumped, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Palm, <a href="#Page_56">56</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">T.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tacuba, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Taliput palm, <a href="#Page_125">125</a>, <a href="#Page_128"><i>128</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Tamandua tetradactyla.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Anteater_Lesser">Anteater, Lesser</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tanager, Black-faced, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Blue, <a href="#Page_127">127</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_407"></a>[407]</span>Magpie, <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Palm, <a href="#Page_37">37</a>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_147"><i>147</i></a>,
+    <a href="#Page_171">171</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Silver-beak, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_139">139</a>, <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tapakuma, Lake, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">River, <a href="#Page_240">240</a>, <a href="#Page_241">241</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tarantulas, <a href="#Page_100">100</a>, <a href="#Page_101">101</a>, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>, <a href="#Page_219">219</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_265">265</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tapir, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tarpon, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tayras, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Tegu_Lizard">Tegu Lizard, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Teius nigropunctatus.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Tegu_Lizard">Tegu Lizard</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Temperature, of Hoorie, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Of Mangrove Forest of Venezuela, <a href="#Page_12">12</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tern, Great-billed, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_378">378</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Least, <a href="#Page_378">378</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Yellow-billed, <a href="#Page_8">8</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Testudo tabulata.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Tortoise">Tortoise, South American</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Thrush, Black-capped Mocking, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_376">376</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Thysania agrippina.</i> <i>See</i> <a href="#Moth_Moon">Moth, Moon</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Thurn, Everard F. im. <i>See</i> <a href="#im_Thurn">im Thurn</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tiger Bittern, <a href="#Page_282">282</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tiger, Warracabra, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tinamou, Great Blue, Description of, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Discovery of nest and eggs of, <a href="#Page_47"><i>47</i></a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Guiana Crested, <a href="#Page_318">318</a>, <a href="#Page_319">319</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Little, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tityra, Black-tailed, <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Toads, of Georgetown, <a href="#Page_122">122</a>, <a href="#Page_123"><i>123</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Telegraph, <a href="#Page_238">238</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Tree, music of, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Tortoise">Tortoise, South American, <a href="#Page_297">297</a>, <a href="#Page_298">298</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Toua-toua. <i>See</i> <a href="#Grosbeak_Brown-breasted_Pigmy">Grosbeak, Brown-breasted Pigmy</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Toucans, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">As food, <a href="#Page_328">328</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Black-banded Aracari, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Feeding of, <a href="#Page_327">327</a>, <a href="#Page_328">328</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Red-billed, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>, <a href="#Page_268">268</a>, <a href="#Page_326">326</a>, <a href="#Page_327">327</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Red-breasted, <a href="#Page_175">175</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Sulphur- and White-breasted, <a href="#Page_174">174</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Trapping birds, <a href="#Page_125">125-129</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tree-hopper, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Trinidad, <a href="#Page_3">3</a>, <a href="#Page_4">4</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Trogon, Yellow-bellied, <a href="#Page_250">250</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Trumpeter">Trumpeters, <a href="#Page_60">60</a>, <a href="#Page_117"><i>117</i></a>, <a href="#Page_179">179</a>, <a href="#Page_255">255</a>, <a href="#Page_256">256</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_330">330-332</a>, <a href="#Page_338">338</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Twa-twa. <i>See</i> <a href="#Grosbeak_Thick-billed_Pigmy">Grosbeak, Thick-billed Pigmy</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Tyrantlet, Buff-tailed, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">V.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Vampires">Vampires, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_263">263</a>, <a href="#Page_269">269</a>, <a href="#Page_277">277</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Victoria regia</i>, <a href="#Page_116">116</a>, <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, <a href="#Page_124"><i>124</i></a>, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Vinton, Mr. and Mrs. Lindley, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, <a href="#Page_385">385</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Vireo, Brown-throated, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Vulture, Black, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_121">121</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">King, <a href="#Page_137">137</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Orange-headed, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a>, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">W.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Waini River, <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, <a href="#Page_154">154</a>, <a href="#Page_158">158</a>, <a href="#Page_160">160</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Walking Sticks, <a href="#Page_289">289</a>, <a href="#Page_290"><i>290</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Warracabra. <i>See</i> <a href="#Trumpeter">Trumpeter</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Wasps">Wasps, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>, <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Nests of, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1"><i>Notogonia</i>, <a href="#Page_347">347</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Protection of Cassiques by, <a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Water-haas. <i>See</i> <a href="#Capybara">Capybara</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Water Hyacinth, <a href="#Page_218">218</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Water Lemon. <i>See</i> <a href="#Simitu">Simitú</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx" id="Weevil">Weevils, Palm, <a href="#Page_45">45</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Welcome of Wilderness, <a href="#Page_88">88-90</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">“Whó-are-yoú?”, <a href="#Page_383">383</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Wilderness, early morning in, <a href="#Page_346"><i>346</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Wilshire, Mr. Gaylord, <a href="#Page_x">x</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_182"><i>182</i></a>, <a href="#Page_227">227</a>, <a href="#Page_305">305</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Mrs. Gaylord, <a href="#Page_x">x</a>, <a href="#Page_134">134</a>, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, <a href="#Page_275">275</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Witch Birds. <i>See</i> <a href="#Anis">Anis</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Withers, Mr., house of at Bartica, <a href="#Page_246">246-248</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Wood Ibis, <a href="#Page_353">353</a>, <a href="#Page_381">381</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Woodhewers, <a href="#Page_131">131</a>, <a href="#Page_194">194</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_246">246</a>, <a href="#Page_284">284</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_322">322</a>, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Accompanying hunting ants, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Cinnamon spine-tail, <a href="#Page_304">304</a>, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1"><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_408"></a>[408]</span>Clinging to trunk of tree, <a href="#Page_50"><i>50</i></a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Music of, <a href="#Page_161">161</a>, <a href="#Page_193">193</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Wedge-billed Pigmy, <a href="#Page_339">339</a>, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Woodpeckers, <a href="#Page_30">30</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Guiana Ivory-bill, <a href="#Page_200">200</a>, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Red-crested, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_292">292</a>, <a href="#Page_311">311</a>, <a href="#Page_312">312</a>, <a href="#Page_313">313</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Yellow, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>, <a href="#Page_41"><i>41</i></a>.</li>
+
+<li class="indx">Wren, Guiana House, <a href="#Page_112">112</a>, <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>, <a href="#Page_247">247</a>, <a href="#Page_307">307</a>,
+    <a href="#Page_308">308</a>, <a href="#Page_379">379</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Jungle, <a href="#Page_340">340</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Marsh, <a href="#Page_324">324</a>.</li>
+<li class="isub1">Necklaced Jungle. <i>See</i> <a href="#Quadrille-bird">Quadrille-bird</a>.</li>
+
+<li class="ifrst">Z.</li>
+
+<li class="indx"><i>Zaevius calocore</i>, <a href="#Page_212">212</a>.</li>
+
+</ul>
+
+<div class="transnote">
+
+<p>Transcriber’s Note: The music files are the music transcriber’s interpretation
+of the printed notation and are placed in the public domain.</p>
+
+<p class="x-ebookmaker-drop">Click on the [Listen] link to hear the music and on the [MusicXML] link to download the notation.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75453 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
+
diff --git a/75453-h/images/birdsong1.jpg b/75453-h/images/birdsong1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..114a29c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/birdsong1.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/birdsong2.jpg b/75453-h/images/birdsong2.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4e331e3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/birdsong2.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/birdsong3.jpg b/75453-h/images/birdsong3.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5ad7fef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/birdsong3.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/butterfly.jpg b/75453-h/images/butterfly.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..22db4cd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/butterfly.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/cover.jpg b/75453-h/images/cover.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bb5eea8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/cover.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure001.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure001.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..62218fa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure001.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure002.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure002.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b480d32
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure002.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure003.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure003.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..73a7ef5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure003.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure004.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure004.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0a02aa2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure004.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure005.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure005.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1553626
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure005.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure006.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure006.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4c55eb1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure006.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure007.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure007.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a765e43
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure007.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure008.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure008.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7f207b9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure008.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure009.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure009.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..71390ed
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure009.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure010.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure010.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..324c2b0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure010.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure011.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure011.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..20598ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure011.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure012.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure012.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5170652
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure012.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure013.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure013.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..00c9e89
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure013.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure014.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure014.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b2a3d74
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure014.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure015.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure015.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5cfa403
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure015.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure016.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure016.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b46af7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure016.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure017.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure017.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b5f4d1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure017.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure018.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure018.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..53af636
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure018.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure019.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure019.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..990210b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure019.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure020.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure020.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0a37ddb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure020.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure021.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure021.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4f82634
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure021.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure022.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure022.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b0bd314
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure022.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure023.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure023.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..920f902
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure023.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure024.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure024.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..daeb682
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure024.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure025.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure025.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ab67afa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure025.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure026.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure026.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..67de80d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure026.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure027.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure027.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f3d484d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure027.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure028.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure028.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ae8632f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure028.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure029.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure029.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2796ce1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure029.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure030.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure030.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..94fd188
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure030.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure031.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure031.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2518eb8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure031.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure032.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure032.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f9e976
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure032.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure033.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure033.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a42d123
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure033.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure034-035.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure034-035.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..855c5cb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure034-035.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure036.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure036.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..65edbfd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure036.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure037.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure037.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..32586a1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure037.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure038-039.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure038-039.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fcf4475
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure038-039.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure040.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure040.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..67cd3e1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure040.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure041.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure041.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4b9c494
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure041.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure042.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure042.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ca45d47
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure042.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure043.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure043.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a2b40db
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure043.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure044.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure044.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bce966b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure044.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure045.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure045.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e92e94b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure045.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure046.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure046.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..78121f1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure046.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure047.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure047.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..13b7567
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure047.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure048.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure048.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6b0e21e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure048.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure049.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure049.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..be2754a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure049.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure050.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure050.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..acd7765
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure050.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure051.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure051.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b3bf410
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure051.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure052.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure052.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..de8e6da
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure052.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure053.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure053.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..07fb910
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure053.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure054.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure054.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..42e1133
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure054.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure055.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure055.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5a75d94
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure055.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure056.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure056.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df4b62b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure056.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure057.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure057.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..91f930c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure057.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure058.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure058.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fb401b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure058.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure059.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure059.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..be36bdd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure059.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure060.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure060.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ae725aa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure060.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure061.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure061.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..84cc9de
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure061.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure062.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure062.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b89d6ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure062.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure063.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure063.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ecbdc65
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure063.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure064.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure064.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8705041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure064.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure065.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure065.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3727318
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure065.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure066.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure066.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04df820
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure066.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure067.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure067.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cf4e479
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure067.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure068.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure068.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8ea13a1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure068.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure069.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure069.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e5b0407
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure069.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure070.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure070.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2e7910b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure070.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure071.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure071.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cd0354c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure071.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure072.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure072.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04e885c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure072.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure073.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure073.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..147555e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure073.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure074.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure074.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b8f63e5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure074.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure075.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure075.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..81ff641
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure075.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure076.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure076.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..03d676a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure076.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure077.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure077.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0b873cb
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure077.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure078.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure078.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7a7123d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure078.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure079.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure079.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e09fb93
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure079.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure080.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure080.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..034750d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure080.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure081.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure081.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8b6f83f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure081.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure082.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure082.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8408593
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure082.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure083.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure083.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..20ba77a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure083.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure084.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure084.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ceb0a28
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure084.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure085.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure085.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..93f6d96
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure085.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure086.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure086.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..49db9d8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure086.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure087.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure087.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2da76c0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure087.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure088.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure088.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bce76a9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure088.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure089.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure089.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4236b3f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure089.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure090.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure090.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2ad44c8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure090.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure091.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure091.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9af57d0
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure091.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure092.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure092.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eded822
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure092.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure093.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure093.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..05fdc51
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure093.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure094.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure094.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e9418ff
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure094.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure095.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure095.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9449e66
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure095.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure096.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure096.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..eef4c1e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure096.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure097.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure097.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5a388f3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure097.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure098.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure098.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9613362
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure098.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure099.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure099.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d5dfe4d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure099.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure100.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure100.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d26d095
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure100.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure101.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure101.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5d51598
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure101.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure102.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure102.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2d77ab8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure102.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure103.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure103.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..399f4b4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure103.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure104.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure104.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7155983
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure104.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure105.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure105.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4c3e34a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure105.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure106.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure106.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..07f3671
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure106.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure107.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure107.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..570b0c1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure107.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure108.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure108.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c5c7bcd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure108.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure109.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure109.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fd5d8b1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure109.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure110.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure110.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..28f25be
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure110.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure111.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure111.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4cfd4d8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure111.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure112.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure112.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fab7f01
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure112.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure113.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure113.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c52539e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure113.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure114.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure114.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3d46ebf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure114.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure115.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure115.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0816d32
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure115.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure116.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure116.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1523376
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure116.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure117.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure117.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b4457b5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure117.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure118.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure118.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..caa9d7c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure118.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure119.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure119.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..50e6e88
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure119.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure120.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure120.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df8fb6b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure120.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure121.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure121.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3f872d3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure121.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure122.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure122.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..70a9aac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure122.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure123.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure123.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c8409ce
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure123.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure124.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure124.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1043081
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure124.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure125.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure125.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e4b2429
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure125.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure126.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure126.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b8fa81b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure126.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure127.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure127.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4305e03
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure127.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure128.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure128.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6f6c592
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure128.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure129.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure129.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9f8175e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure129.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure130.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure130.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..31c2a10
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure130.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure131.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure131.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..92e7861
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure131.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure132.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure132.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e2b8816
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure132.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure133.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure133.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..77f6578
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure133.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure134.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure134.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0907a73
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure134.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure135-136.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure135-136.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d86d181
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure135-136.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure137.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure137.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8dc03fa
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure137.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure138.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure138.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1ca191c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure138.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure139.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure139.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..40a502d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure139.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure140.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure140.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ca23902
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure140.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure141.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure141.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..77169e3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure141.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure142.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure142.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f48a853
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure142.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure143.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure143.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0f4bbfc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure143.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure144.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure144.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8858e8b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure144.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure145.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure145.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1f76265
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure145.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure146.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure146.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3641847
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure146.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure147.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure147.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d72be13
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure147.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure148.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure148.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fdebbef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure148.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure149.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure149.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3268566
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure149.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure150.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure150.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7eb1e87
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure150.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure151.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure151.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..309a44d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure151.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure152.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure152.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..42cb1cc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure152.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure153.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure153.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bb0bff7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure153.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure154.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure154.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5eae053
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure154.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure155.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure155.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..769f60d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure155.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure156.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure156.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..860be1c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure156.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure157.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure157.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..11abadc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure157.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure158.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure158.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..95949ac
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure158.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure159.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure159.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8be9d73
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure159.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/figure160.jpg b/75453-h/images/figure160.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3e6a5fd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/figure160.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/frontispiece.jpg b/75453-h/images/frontispiece.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3a1925e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/frontispiece.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/images/holt.jpg b/75453-h/images/holt.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b762d74
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/images/holt.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music1.jpg b/75453-h/music/music1.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..dceb3f4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music1.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music1.mp3 b/75453-h/music/music1.mp3
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2503b52
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music1.mp3
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music1.mxl b/75453-h/music/music1.mxl
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4cdf24a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music1.mxl
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music2.jpg b/75453-h/music/music2.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7983b46
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music2.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music2.mp3 b/75453-h/music/music2.mp3
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3a7c75b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music2.mp3
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music2.mxl b/75453-h/music/music2.mxl
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0633aec
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music2.mxl
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music3.jpg b/75453-h/music/music3.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7eff87d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music3.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music3.mp3 b/75453-h/music/music3.mp3
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a50425e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music3.mp3
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music3.mxl b/75453-h/music/music3.mxl
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0ca7888
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music3.mxl
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music4.jpg b/75453-h/music/music4.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..93d8d5c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music4.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music4.mp3 b/75453-h/music/music4.mp3
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..209c031
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music4.mp3
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music4.mxl b/75453-h/music/music4.mxl
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..53962fc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music4.mxl
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music5.jpg b/75453-h/music/music5.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a947cd5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music5.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music5.mp3 b/75453-h/music/music5.mp3
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..0bd9357
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music5.mp3
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music5.mxl b/75453-h/music/music5.mxl
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..05d7e92
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music5.mxl
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music6.jpg b/75453-h/music/music6.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..139e388
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music6.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music6.mp3 b/75453-h/music/music6.mp3
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7a102ba
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music6.mp3
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music6.mxl b/75453-h/music/music6.mxl
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..98d4428
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music6.mxl
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music7.jpg b/75453-h/music/music7.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bce26be
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music7.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music7.mp3 b/75453-h/music/music7.mp3
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..592ab66
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music7.mp3
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music7.mxl b/75453-h/music/music7.mxl
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df38b7c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music7.mxl
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music8.jpg b/75453-h/music/music8.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bf4e7b2
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music8.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music8.mp3 b/75453-h/music/music8.mp3
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..99a6013
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music8.mp3
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music8.mxl b/75453-h/music/music8.mxl
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f4ac266
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music8.mxl
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music9.jpg b/75453-h/music/music9.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b880d44
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music9.jpg
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music9.mp3 b/75453-h/music/music9.mp3
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e980ac7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music9.mp3
diff --git a/75453-h/music/music9.mxl b/75453-h/music/music9.mxl
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..01f5b86
--- /dev/null
+++ b/75453-h/music/music9.mxl