130 JUNGLE PEACE 



top, and the coarse network of sticks looked like 

 a precarious resting place for eggs and an ex- 

 ceedingly uncomfortable one for young birds. 



When we approached a nest, the occupant 

 paid no attention until we actually came close 

 to a branch, or shook it. She then rose, pro- 

 testing hoarsely, and lifting wings and tail as 

 she croaked. At the last moment, often when 

 only a yard away, she flew off and away to a 

 distance of fifty feet or more. Watching 

 closely, when she realized that we really had 

 intentions on her nest, she returned and perched 

 fifteen or twenty feet away, croaking continu- 

 ally, her mate a little farther off, and all the 

 hoatzins within sight or hearing joining in sym- 

 pathetic disharmony, all with synchronous lift- 

 ing of tail and wings at each utterance. 



The voice of the female is appreciably deeper 

 than that of the male, having more of a gur- 

 gling character, like one of the notes of a curas- 

 sow. The usual note of both sexes is an unwrit- 

 able, hoarse, creaking sound, quite cicada or 

 frog-like. 



Their tameness was astounding, and they 

 would often sit unmoved, while we were walking 

 noisily about, or focusing the camera within two 



