WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA 157 



robbed man of any part of his property, nor de- 

 prived the kid of a drop of milk. 



When the moon shines bright, you may have a 

 fair opportunity of examining the goatsucker. 

 You will see it close by the cows, goats, and sheep, 

 jumping up every now and then, under their 

 bellies. Approach a little nearer, — he is not shy, 

 *'he fears no danger, for he knows no sin." See 

 how the nocturnal flies are tormenting the herd, 

 and with what dexterity he springs up and catches 

 them, as fast as they alight on the belly, legs, and 

 udder of the animals. Observe how quiet they 

 stand, and how sensible they seem of his good 

 oflBces, for they neither strike at him, nor hit him 

 with their tail, nor tread on him, nor try to drive 

 him away as an uncivil intruder. Were you to 

 dissect him, and inspect his stomach, you would 

 find no milk there. It is full of the flies which 

 have been annoying the herd. 



The prettily mottled plumage of the goatsucker, 

 like that of the owl, wants the lustre which is ob- 

 served in the feathers of the birds of day. This 

 at once marks him as a lover of the pale moon's 

 nightly beams. There are nine species here. The 

 largest appears nearly the size of the English 

 wood-owl. Its cry is so remarkable, that having 

 once heard it you will never forget it. When night 

 reigns over these immeasurable wilds, whilst lying 

 in your hammock, you will hear this goatsucker 

 lamenting like one in deep distress. A stranger 

 would never conceive it to be the cry of a bird. 

 He would say it was the departing voice of a mid- 

 night-murdered victim, or the last wailing of Ni- 

 obe for her poor children, before she was turned 



