RNiGhiy UP TO HEAVEN 135 
know, now, what his throat is like. Fancy seeing 
them both together, flashing, sparkling, gleaming, 
beaming, glancing, dancing in the glorious, glowing 
sunshine of South America. 
But now in the Splendid-breasted Humming-bird 
all the glory is upon his breast, his throat. Once, I 
think (at least the Indians say so), he must have 
flown very high—yes, right up to heaven, and the 
door was open and he tried to fly in. But he could 
not, they turned him away; but the glory of heaven 
had just fallen upon his breast and he flew back with 
it there, to earth. It is green—that glory—the most 
marvellous, light, gleaming green, but all at once, as 
you look at it, it has changed to blue, an exquisite 
light, turquoise blue, and then, just as you are going 
favecy out, “Oh, but it is blue, not green,” it 1s 
green again, and then blue again before you can say 
that it is green, and then, all at once, it is both at the 
same time, for each has changed into the other. 
It is the throat-gorget (you know I explained 
to you) on which this glorious colour falls, but this 
bird has such a large one that it covers the breast as 
well as the throat, and goes up quite high on each 
side, till it meets the deep, rich, velvety black of the 
head. Of course this deep, velvet black makes the 
wonderful green and blue look all the more wonder- 
ful, for it is a dark background for them to shine 
