BIEDS OF ARGENTINA, PARAGUAY, URUGUAY, AND CHILE 41 



form, must bear the subspecific name pallescens. Though Kothe 

 recorded a specimen from Tornquist in the Province of Buenos 

 Aires as Rhynchotus rufescens catingae Reiser, a form that ranges 

 far to the north in Piauhy, Brazil, at the same time he proposed for 

 it the designation pallescens, a name that has been usually over- 

 looked, as it has not been listed in the Zoological Record. I collected 

 a pair of these birds in the sand-dune region 15 miles south of 

 Cape San Antonio, Province of Buenos Aires, on November 4, 

 1920, and two others (one of which was preserved as a skeleton) on 

 November 6. The skull of a third specimen was secured on the 

 same day. An adult male taken on the Riacho Pilaga, Formosa, 

 on August 18 seems to represent a northern race, ranging between 

 pollescens of the pampas, and R. r. alleni of Matto Grosso. It 

 has the bold black markings and general gray cast of 'pallescens^ 

 but differs in having the foreneck, hindneck, and upper breast 

 washed distinctly with brown, and the rictal stripe much heavier. 

 A bird in the collection of the National Museum from Cordoba is 

 somewhat intermediate between the birds of northern and central 

 Argentina, as it has a slight buify wash on the neck. I have con- 

 sidered it inadvisable to describe the specimen from the Formosan 

 Chaco until further material is available. 



The rufous-winged tinamou, though common in many localities, 

 is so shy that in spite of its size it is difficult to see and still more 

 difficult to collect. The call of the male, a musical, slow^ly given 

 whistle that bears a strong resemblance to the song of the Balti- 

 more oriole, may be heard frequently, but it requires careful stalk- 

 ing to obtain sight of the bird. In fact, for several months this 

 note was a puzzle to me. I heard it first at Las Palmas, Chaco, 

 and again at the Riacho Pilaga, Kilometer 182, Formosa, coming 

 from the long grass of the savannas. On many occasions I followed 

 the clear whistled call out across the open without catching sight 

 of the elusive musician, and, until I traced the note to its proper 

 source, I was inclined to attribute it to a blackbird, Gnoriniopsar 

 chopi^ a species almost ubiquitous in the Chaco that frequently 

 flushed from the spot from which the call seemed to come. At 

 Las Palmas in July I had a glimpse of one as it ran swiftly through 

 the grass at the border of a wood, but did not secure a specimen 

 until August 18, when at the Riacho Pilaga, one burst out at my 

 feet with a thunder of wings and rushed away 2 meters above the 

 ground, to be dropped at 40 meters with a charge of number eight 

 shot. In the Chaco, Indians were said to hunt the large tinamou 

 as they did the rhea, disguised by branches from a thick-leaved 

 bush, so that they resembled dense shrubs. Tinamou were lured 

 out into the open by an imitation of their whistle, and killed with 

 bow and arrow or shotgun by the hunter invested in his blind. 



