In One Day We Clearly Saw
The River Flow For Six Hours To The North-West, And For Another Six
Hours To The South-East.
This, of course, proved to us that the
river's course depends on the wind.
On the bank, right in front of where we lay, was a gnarled old tree,
which seemed to be the home, or parliament house, of all the
paroquets in the neighborhood. Scores of them kept up an incessant
chatter the whole time. In the tree were two or three hanging nests,
looking like large sacks suspended from the boughs. Ten or twenty
birds lay in the same nest, and you might find in them, at the one
time, eggs just laid, birds recently hatched, and others ready to
fly. Sitting and rearing go on concurrently. I procured a tame pair
of this lovely breed of paroquets from the Guatos. Their prevailing
color was emerald green, while the wings and tail were made up of
tints of orange, scarlet, and blue, and around the back of the bird
was a golden sheen rarely found even in equatorial specimens. Whether
the bird is known to ornithologists or not I cannot tell. One night
our camp was pitched near an anthill, inhabited by innumerable
millions of those insects. None of us slept well, for, although our
hammocks were slung, as we thought, away from them, they troubled us
much. What was my horror next morning when the sun, instead of
lighting up the rainbow tints of my birds, showed only a black moving
mass of ants!
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