HOATZINS AT HOME 125 



with so profound a significance into words, or 

 to make them realistic even with the aid of 

 photographs. 



We took a boat opposite Mr. Beckett's house, 

 and paddled slowly with the nearly-flood tide 

 up the Berbice River. It was two o'clock, the 

 hottest time of the day. For three miles we 

 drifted past the chosen haunts of the hoatzins. 

 All were perched in the shade, quiet in the 

 intense heat, squatting prostrate or sleepily 

 preening their plumage. Now and then we saw 

 a bird on her nest, always over the water. If 

 she was sitting on eggs she sat close. If young 

 birds were in the nest she half-crouched, or 

 perched on the rim, so that her body cast a 

 shadow over the young. 



The vegetation was not varied. Muckamucka 

 was here and there in the foreground, with an 

 almost solid line of bunduri pimpler or thorn 

 tree. This was the real home of the birds, and 

 this plant forms the background whenever the 

 hoatzin comes to mind. It is a growth which 

 loves the water, and crowds down so that the 

 rising of the tide, whether fresh or brackish, 

 covers the mud in which it stands, so that it 

 appears to be quite as aquatic as the man- 



