70 



or:n^ithologist 



[Vol. 14-:N^o. 5 



South America. 



Menftrs. Soutlnvick and Webster: 



Since my last letter, nothing of importance 

 in the line of collecting has occurred. I find 

 that my supply of powder and sliot is rapidly 

 disappearing, and as it cannot be obtained to 

 advantage here (at Para), you will have to 

 arrange at once to send me a stock as it will 

 take some time to reach here. I find that in 

 using No. 12 shells I succeed in hitting about 

 three-quarters of the birds I fire at, and at 

 least one-quarter of them are either lost or are 

 too poor to save. In using my small auxiliary 

 barrel I find that I get nearly as many and 

 that the saving of ammunition is great. I now 

 hope to send you an invoice by April 1st. 

 Birds are not as numerous or in as bright 

 plumage now as they will be two months later. 

 I have not been successful with the Great 

 White Herons. I have to shoot them on the 

 wing, and they come down full force into the 

 black mud, which is impossible for me to re- 

 move. In skinning they dry so quickly that 

 the feathers on the neck set in all directions. 

 One of your boys in your back shop could fix 

 them up in ten minutes better than I can here 

 in half a day. There are no Scarlet Ibis any- 

 where on the river; down at the mouth where 

 they were so thick a few years ago they are 

 exterminated. I saw only one at Para, and 

 the price was so high it was not advisable to 

 buy it. I have seen no Roseate Spoonbills, 

 but I hear they are to be found about forty 

 miles from here; will make a trip in that 

 direction shortly. The Great Horned Screamer 

 is found all through here. 



There seems to be some difference in the 

 birds about keeping, after being shot. A 

 Fork-tailed Flycatcher, which I killed at 12 

 o'clock, was absolutely rotten at 2 o'clock. 

 The largest birds will not keep over twelve 

 hours. 



Perhaps a short description of the grounds 

 I am expected to collect in may be interesting, 

 so I will write about 



The Picado or Hunters' Path. 

 One of the first trips I determined to take 

 on arriving here was to be through the thick 

 forest. A short distance back from my shanty, 

 coiumencing at the edge of a sugar-cane patch 

 running due east about six miles and ending 

 at a small pond, is a "Picado," or hunters' 

 path, and this I decided to take. A person 

 who has never had the pleasure of visiting an 

 Amazonian forest is very apt to form some 



vague and erroneous ideas, and I never formed 

 any worse one than I did of a hunter's path. 

 I supposed it was a narrow, well-beaten path 

 through the forest, with huge trees meeting at 

 the top, making a sort of canopy overhead, 

 and making a delightful place to walk through. 

 I started early one morning, determined to 

 have a pleasant day's tramp. I walked around 

 and around the cane-patch, vainly looking for 

 the aforesaid path, and indeed it was vainly 

 looking, for after a half-day's searching I could 

 not even find the commencement of it. So I 

 gave it up as a bad job, and decided to get a 

 friend to accompany me on the next day. So 

 on the morrow, at daybreak, we started forth, 

 and it seemed as though we walked directly 

 into the thickest part of the woods. A simple 

 blaze on a tree marked the commencement of 

 the path. Alas! my beautiful vision of a 

 hunter's path faded, and the first mile was 

 over before I could even find a sign of a path. 

 We walk along a little way; a blaze on the 

 right hand side shows that we are all right, a 

 little farther ahead another on the left hand, 

 then we see no sign at all, so we get down on 

 all fours to examine the ground. Here is a 

 twig broken off — we are all right, and go 

 ahead, and this kind of travelling is kept up 

 all day long. Three times we lose the path, 

 and each time we must carefully retrace our 

 steps, for if we should get a hundred feet 

 ahead, and see no blazed tree or other sign, 

 we know that we are off the track, and must 

 carefully retrace our steps, and oftentimes it 

 will take half an hour to find the right place in 

 the path which is not a hundred feet away. 

 It is the easiest thing in the world to get lost 

 and it is only the very best hunters that will 

 go off into the woods alone, even by one of 

 their own paths. Two usually go together; 

 while one follows up any game he may chance 

 to see, the other just stays by the path to hold 

 it, and when the first hunter is ready to return 

 all he has to do is to hello to his companion 

 and to follow up the sound of liis voice, thus 

 saving maybe several hours in searching for 

 the path. The natives never use a compass, 

 and as the wind usually blows and all the tall 

 trees lean in one direction, they can readily 

 tell which direction to take. About 11 o'clock, 

 we came to two gigantic forest trees side by 

 side, and my companion says, "Let's have 

 dinner." Now I was desperately hungry and 

 thirsty as well, and as we had brought no 

 lunch with us I thought it was too bad to joke 

 over so serious a subject. But he laid down 

 his gun, took off his cartridge belt and com- 



