150 WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA 



Wood and bark are not my food. I live entirely 

 upon the insects which have already formed a 

 lodgment in the distempered tree. When the sound 

 informs me that my prey is there, I labour for 

 hours together till I get at it ; and by consuming 

 it, for my own support, I prevent its further dep- 

 redations in that part. Thus I discover for you 

 your hidden and unsuspected foe, wliich has been 

 devouring your wood in such secrecy, that you 

 had not the least suspicion it was there. The hole 

 which I make in order to get at the pernicious* 

 vermin will be seen by you as you pass under the 

 tree. I leave it as a signal to tell you that your 

 tree has already stood too long. It is past its 

 prime. Millions of insects, engendered by dis- 

 ease, are preying upon its vitals. Ere long it will 

 fall a log in useless ruins. Warned by this loss, 

 cut down the rest in time, and spare, spare the 

 unoffending woodpecker ! ' ' 



In the rivers and different creeks, you number 

 six species of the Kingfisher. They make their 

 nest in a hole in the sand on the side of the bank 

 As there is always plenty of foliage to protect 

 them from the heat of the sun, they feed at all 

 hours of the day. Though their plumage is pret- 

 tily varied, still it falls far short of the brilliancy 

 displayed by the English kingfisher. This little 

 native of Britain would outweigh them altogether 

 in the scale of beauty. 



A bird called Jacamar is ofteii taken for a king- 

 fisher, but it has no relationship to that tribe ; it 

 frequently sits in the trees over the water, and as 

 its beak bears some resemblance to that of the 

 kingfisher, this may probably account for its being 



