Birds of Uriufimy. 157 



cordant notes, at tlie other end of the world, so that in the 

 early mornings (often fresh and exhilarating beyond descrip- 

 tion in that dry crystal air, still cool in the level rays of the 

 brilliant southern sun) I could listen more easily to the 

 flute-like whistles of the " Cardinal," short sweet strains of 

 the " Chingolo," thrush-like '' Calandria," and rich warbling 

 song of the House- Wren. The fact is that, from the 

 scarcity of suitable spots, the birds are crowded together. 

 Every little patch of thorny trees holds its colony of birds ; 

 almost every patch of shrub-grown rocks its Horncros, its 

 Mocking-birds, its Wrens, and probably other birds too; 

 but in summer you may ride leagues over the bare camp and 

 see only a pair of Cachila Pipits at intervals, noisy Teru- 

 Terus, a Vulture or Eagle soaring overhead, or a Carancho 

 flapping along; near a zanja you will see the Minera, and 

 perhaps the little blue-and-white Bank-Swallow ; in the 

 low paja or green " mio-mio " you will see Tinamu, and if 

 you pass through a patch of cardoon you may chance on a 

 few pairs of Red-breasted Starlings {Trupialis defilippii), a pair 

 of Nacunda Nightjars, or a party of Bartram^s Sandpipers, 

 "wintering,'^ like yourself, in the summer of the far south. 

 The Arroyo Grande may roughly be said to be (at Sta. 

 Elena) about the width of the Thames at Oxford, but, unlike 

 that locked river, it is very variable. In places it is quite 

 shallow, and the monte in these parts extends over its whole 

 bed, interrupted only by numerous tortuous channels where 

 the ordinary flow of the river passes. In flood-time the 

 whole monte in these places is under water. When I arrived 

 in the country it had been suflering from short rainfall for 

 over two years, and during the eight months of spring, 

 summer, and autumn that I remained in Uruguay the '' seca " 

 continued almost without interruption. Soon after I arrived 

 the Arroyo Grande was " cut " {i. e. became dry in places), 



human being — coming from a little distance even to sit within a few feet of 

 the unfortunate naturalist's head, and to do its best to prevent his hearing 

 any other bird. The Ilornero reminded me strongly of a Seven Dials' 

 lady giving her husband a piece of her mind. The ordinary ringing 

 notes with which it salutes its mate are, however, far from unpleasant. 



