186 On the trail of vanishing birds 



key, which stems from the appearance of the tail, there is snake- 

 bird, from the long reptilianlike neck and its habit of slithering 

 through the water with only its head and slender neck protruding. 

 Then, of course, there is the scientific name, understood by orni- 

 thologists of whatever tongue. This is Anhinga anhinga, from 

 which we also obtain yet another common name, anhinga. 



Arturo was now laughing uproariously, and it was not so much 

 at the thought of this, to his mind, silly-looking bird having so 

 many names, this bird with his nose stuck out of the water and his 

 suspicious eyes, as it was the unexplainable appropriateness of 

 Anhinga anhinga. Between laughs he kept saying the words over 

 and over again, "anhinga-anhinga, anhinga-anhinga" although, as 

 he pronounced them, it sounded like "anheenga-anheenga." We 

 all had a good laugh, funny or not, even Julio joining in and Rafael 

 coming as close to a smile as he did the entire trip. 



In a short while we were aground and had to transfer to the 

 piragua, leaving aboard only Celedonio, a Negro boy who had be- 

 come a member of our expedition in some inexplicable way. 

 Celedonio was a mute and was supposed to be loco, in a mild sort 

 of way, but actually he proved more willing than the others, and 

 very helpful at certain tasks. For an hour we paddled up a narrow 

 mangrove creek, the Gutta Jutia, collecting little tree-climbing 

 periwinkles and coffee-bean shells from the branches overhead. 

 Then, even our canoe could go no farther. Julio made it clear that 

 Arturo and I should stay where we were, while he and Rafael went 

 off through the mangroves looking for the salina. We fought 

 mosquitoes for an hour, and finally the two explorers returned, 

 looking very hot, and confessing that they had been unable to 

 find their way. It later turned out that we had paddled up the 

 wrong creek! To cheer, or possibly to deceive me, they had a few 

 cast feathers of the roseate spoonbill, the sevilla of that region, 

 that they had picked up, and I believe that Julio's first intent was 

 to pass them off as flamingo feathers. However, without thinking, 

 I had said "Sevillal" upon seeing them in his hand, so he had laid 

 them carefully in the boat without comment. 



As we started back down the gutta I had my first really serious 

 misgivings regarding Julio. 



