A MONKEY HUNT IN THE MOUNTAINS. 273 



the past two years I have been attacked, as it were, 

 by them. Instantly they see me they will dart at my 

 face, halting only a foot or so from it, or whirl in 

 dizzy circles about me. The whir of their wings will 

 often startle me, coming unexpectedly from some dark 

 thicket in some walled-in river-bed, or from behind 

 some great tree-trunk in the high woods. It is always 

 in the mountain forest that this happens. I can call a 

 few about me at any time, by imitating their excited 

 cries ; they dart at once to ascertain the cause, with 

 sharp, nervous chirps of alarm. Even when they have 

 flown right into my face they will not be satisfied, but 

 must perch near, and regard me for a while intently. 

 If I then move, they dart at me with a chirp of in- 

 dignant defiance, and at once disappear. 



The fragrance of the bitten fruit filled the air, and 

 insects gathered on the broken skin, but no monkeys 

 came to claim the remainder hanging on the tree. 

 For nearly an hour a mountain dove had been " groan- 

 ing " near me — the hollow moan they oft reiterate is 

 aptly called a groan by the negroes. They have a 

 soft, rapid flight, with a hollow shirr when startled or 

 surprised in their flight by coming near you and 

 suddenly altering their course. 



Eleven o'clock. The sun had long since shone 

 through the trees above the cliff, yet the coolness of 

 this dense wood was little abated. Birds in the tree- 

 tops were shaking down berries now and then, and the 

 wind showered down leaves, but no monkeys yet dis- 

 turbed the branches above. Lizards leaped from 

 bough to bough, climbing up the tree and pattering 

 over the leaves ; they were pursuing one another 

 everywhere, and caused many of the various move- 

 18 



