Notes from a Traveler in the Tropics 15 



It must be remembered that the rainy season was just drawing to a close and 

 that birds, as a whole, were not in song. In March or April many additional 

 species would doubtless have announced their presence, while one who was 

 looking for birds would unquestionably find the gardens and tree-lined drives 

 of Ancon and Balboa Heights profitable hunting-grounds. 



The abundance of vegetation about the attractive homes of these towns offers 

 many tropical birds their first opportunity to establish friendly associations 

 with North American bird-lovers. 



The bird student in the Canal Zone, is not, however, restricted to those 

 parts of the country which have come completely under the dominion of man. 

 From my window in the Tivoli I looked out over the green savannas to the 

 forested foot-hills, accessible and promising grounds, where one may study 

 tropical bird-life under particularly favorable conditions. A visit to the ruin 

 of old Panama, distant about 9 miles, possesses not alone abundant historic 

 interest, but the vegetation which has sprung up in the fallen walls of this 

 ancient city, and which surrounds its site, is filled with birds. I passed an hour 

 there on the afternoon of November 10 with Capt. O'Connell, a former Museum 

 associate, and now in the coast artillery at Ft. Amador. It was an exquisitely 

 beautiful evening, with a richly hued sunset, followed by that marvelous after- 

 glow which so often marks the close of a tropical day. On the broad mud- 

 flats exposed by the low tide there were numerous shore-birds; Laughing 

 Gulls gleaned at the water's edge, and over the Bay of Panama were long lines 

 of Pelicans, evidently headed for their roosting-places. 



As the sun fell, the birds in the vegetation about us became more active, 

 and, in spite of the season, the air for a short time was vocal with calls and 

 songs. I recognized the voices of many old friends. There was the chatter 

 of Flycatchers {Tyrannus melancholicus and Myiozeteles), the loud, ringing 

 whistle of a large Wren (Thryolhorus), breaking with startling suddenness from 

 a nearby thicket, and stopping as suddenly; there was the mournful whistle of 

 a Cuckoo (Tapera ncevia) which aroused a hundred associations, the thin 

 twitter of dozens of Blue Tanagers, and the shrill cries of many Paroquets 

 exploring the ruins as though house-hunting. There were scores of Seed-eaters 

 and small flocks of Ground Doves (Chaemepelia rufipeiinis) along the road- 

 side; Hawks, Caracaras, Black Vultures, Swallows, and a single Collared 

 Swift {Streptoprocnc) in the air; Hummers buzzed actively about us, every- 

 where there was movement and a sense of teeming life. 



As we returned to Ancon in the short twilight, the sky was lilled with ai\ 

 amazing numl)er of Xighthawks; they were present l)\- thousands, feeding at 

 first high in the air and coming nearer the ground as the light failed. In strong 

 contrast to their darting, erratic flight was the steady jjrogress of a fl()ck of 

 some hfty large Parrots which passed oxerhead, l)(>und for their home in the 

 forest. 



