om my side nor made an attempt to capture anything. At
length we sat down under a tree, in an open spot close to the border of
the wood. He sat down very reluctantly, and seemed more troubled in
his mind than ever, keeping his eyes continually roving about, while he
listened intently to every sound. The sounds were not few, owing to the
abundance of animal and especially of bird life in this favoured spot.
I began to question my companion as to some of the cries we heard. There
were notes and cries familiar to me as the crowing of the cock--parrot
screams and yelping of toucans, the distant wailing calls of maam and
duraquara; and shrill laughter-like notes of the large tree-climber as
it passed from tree to tree; the quick whistle of cotingas; and strange
throbbing and thrilling sounds, as of pygmies beating on metallic drums,
of the skulking pitta-thrushes; and with these mingled other notes
less well known. One came from the treetops, where it was perpetually
wandering amid the foliage a low note, repeated at intervals of a few
seconds, so thin and mournful and full of mystery that I half expected
to hear that it proceeded from the restless ghost of some dead bird.
But no; he only said it was uttered by a "little bird"--too little
presumably to have a name. From the foliage of a neighbouring tree came
a few tinkling chirps, as of a small mandolin, two or three strings of
which had been carelessly struck by the player. He said that it came
from a small green frog that lived in trees; and in this way my rude
Indian--vexed perhaps at being asked such trivial questions--brushed
away the pretty fantasies my mind had woven in the woodland solitude.
For I often listened to this tinkling music, and it had suggested the
idea that the place was frequented by a tribe of fairy-like troubadour
monkeys, and that if I could only be quick-sighted enough I might one
day be able to detect the minstrel sitting, in a green tunic perhaps,
cross-legged on some high, swaying bough, carelessly touching his
mandolin, suspended from his neck by a yellow ribbon.

By and by a bird came with low, swift flight, its great tail spread open
fan-wise, and perched itself on an exposed bough not thirty yards from
us. It was all of a chestnut-red colour, long-bodied, in size like a big
pigeon. Its actions showed that its curiosity had been greatly excited,
for it jerked from side to side, eyeing us first with one eye, then the
other, while its long tail