::::::::»i TWO BIRD- LOVERS IN MEXICO >*:::::::n 



from caged specimens. All the time the macaws floated 

 past high ill air toward the west — two and two — as 

 alike as a single bird and its shadow. 



Evening after evening we were mystified by the call 

 of some bird which came to our ears at the same hour. 

 For a long time the bird evaded our search. Lying in 

 wait in the hope of getting a photograph of a gigantic 

 raven which occasionally wheeled and croaked about 

 our camp, I saw a long-tailed greenish bird dash past 

 me and perch near by. It sat very upright and its 

 tail hung straight down, and it was like nothing that 

 I had ever seen before. And no wonder, for it was 

 a Coppery-tailed Trogon, the type of a family of birds 

 new to me. The green of the bird's back and tail was 

 not conspicuous, but, when it darted up into the air and 

 returned to its perch facing me, the full glory of the 

 delicate rose-pink on its lower breast was apparent. 

 This hue is evanescent, not only in shade but in com- 

 position, and in the skin of a dead bird it will fade, and 

 if exposed to the light, will, in a very short time, com- 

 pletely disappear. The call of the trogon, uttered 

 especially toward evening when it came to drink, was 

 a soft series of melodious notes, reminding one some- 

 what of the content-call of a hen with chickens. Reg- 

 ularly at dusk two of these birds went to roost in a 

 dense tangle of wild clematis, whose soft, fluffy seed- 

 plumes were at the height of their ripened beauty. 



Little doves were very abundant about camp, both 



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