380 EXCURSIONS BEYOND EGA. Cuap. XIII. 
which the village is built extends on one side nearly a mile into the 
forest, but on the other side the descent into the lowland begins close 
to the streets ; the hill sloping abruptly towards a boggy meadow sur- 
rounded by woods, through which a narrow winding path continues the 
slope down to a cool shady glen, with a brook of icy-cold water flowing 
at the bottom. At mid-day the vertical sun penetrates into the glooniy 
depths of this romantic spot, lighting up the leafy banks of the rivulet 
and its clean sandy margins, where numbers of scarlet, green, and black 
tanagers and brightly-coloured butterflies sport about in the stray beams. 
Sparkling brooks, large and small, traverse the glorious forest in almost 
every direction, and one is constantly meeting, whilst rambling through 
the thickets, with trickling rills and bubbling springs, so well provided is 
the country with moisture. Some of the rivulets flow over a sandy and 
pebbly bed, and the banks of all are clothed with the most magnificent 
vegetation conceivable. I had the almost daily habit, in my solitary 
walks, of resting on the clean banks of these swift-flowing streams, and 
bathing for an hour at a time in their bracing waters ; hours which now 
remain amongst my most pleasant memories. The broad forest roads 
continue, as I was told, a distance of several days’ journey into the 
interior, which is peopled by Tucinas and other Indians, living 
in scattered houses and villages nearly in their primitive state, the 
nearest village lying about six miles from St. Paulo. The banks of all 
the streams are dotted with palm-thatched dwellings of Tuctinas, all 
half buried in the leafy wilderness, the scattered families having chosen 
the coolest and shadiest nooks for their abodes. 
I frequently heard in the neighbourhood of these huts the “ realejo” 
or organ bird (Cyphorhinus cantans), the most remarkable songster, by 
far, of the Amazonian forests. When its singular notes strike the ear for 
the first time the impression cannot be resisted that they are produced 
by a human voice. Some musical boy must be gathering fruit in the 
thickets, and is singing a few notes to cheer himself. The tones become 
more fluty and plaintive ; they are now those of a flageolet, and notwith- 
standing the utter impossibility of the thing, one is for the moment con- 
vinced that somebody is playing that instrument. No bird is to be seen, 
however closely the surrounding trees and bushes may be scanned, and 
yet the voice seems to come from the thicket close to one’s ears. The 
ending of the song is rather disappointing. It begins with a few very 
slow and mellow notes, following each other like the commencement 
of an air; one listens expecting to hear a complete strain, but an abrupt 
pause occurs, and then the song breaks down, finishing with a number 
of clicking unmusical sounds like a piping barrel organ out of wind and 
tune. I never heard the bird on the Lower Amazons, and very rarely 
heard it even at Ega ; it is the only songster which makes an impression 
on the natives, who sometimes rest their paddles whilst travelling in their 
small canoes along the shady by-streams, as if struck by the mysterious 
sounds. 
The Tuctna Indians are a tribe resembling much the Shumanas, 
Passés, Jurfs, and Mauhés in their physical appearance and customs. 
They lead, like those tribes, a settled agricultural life, each horde obeying 
