140 PROCEEDINGS OF THE 



guide listened, and said he heard the Guaquitus; and soon we were 

 delighted at the sight of a magnificent male bird, with his long, 

 graceful tail feathers, crimson breast, and metallic green plumage. 

 With a sort of hurried flight, he crossed over before us, in the dim 

 light of the oak trees, and alighted. When shot, we could not 

 help regretting that so much beauty of colour and grace of form 

 could not be taken alive. Next to the celebrated bird of Paradise, 

 in the islands of the Eastern ocean, I know no sight more calcu- 

 lated to excite to its liighest pitch the enthusiasm of the ornitho- 

 logist. We always found them in pairs, and on the S.E. side of the 

 volcano. The herdsman told us that for a time they disappear, 

 and return about the time for incubation, in March, the time we 

 were there. They lived, he said, on the fruit of a tree called 

 Almacigo — but, I think, more on that of a species of Fecus, the fruit 

 of which is about the size of a small cherry, and very good to eat. 

 The seed was found on the stomach. The fact of these trees 

 descending some five hundred feet towards the plain, may be a 

 motive for the birds leaving their mountain solitudes in search of 

 the fruit. Judging from the contents of the stomach, I should say 

 this species, at least, was more frugiverous than insectivorous in 

 its habits. They make their nest, we were told, in some old tree, 

 well perforated by wood-peckers, and manage so that the hole 

 should pass through and through, so that the male bird can enter 

 and go out of the nest without endangering his long tail plumes. 

 By seeing these feathers protruding, the Indians were led to dis- 

 cover the nest. They could tell us little about the eggs, or other 

 particulars of their nidification. Their note is a short, harsh cry, 

 easily distinguished when once heard. A gentleman in David had 

 a young one brought to him by an Indian. It lived for some time, 

 and seemed to thrive on ripe plantains. Unfortunately, it got 

 stung by a scorpion, and died. WHiile the Trogons of the plains 

 court the sunlight, sitting, apparently uneasy, in an open branch, 

 uttering now and then a short note, this species seeks rather the 

 shade and retirement from the glare of the sun ; it seems not to be 

 timid, but sluggish, and so is easily approached and killed. In the 

 plains near Panama, I have often seen the native paths under the 

 trees strewed with the beautiful crimson and green feathers, the 

 birds having evidently fallen a prey to the hawks. The Trogons 

 have been described as " solitary nocturnal birds." I have never 

 seen anything in their habits to corroborate this opinion. In 



