The Crested Screamer. 225 



quality utterly unlike screams. Sometimes when 

 walking across Regent's Park I hear the resound- 

 ing cries of the bird confined there attempting to 

 sing ; above the concert of cranes, the screams of 

 eagles and macaws, the howling of dogs and wolves 

 and the muffled roar of lions, one can hear it all over 

 the park. But those loud notes only sadden me. 

 Exile and captivity have taken all joyousness from 

 the noble singer, and a moist climate has made him 

 hoarse ; the long clear strains are no more, and he 

 hurries through his series of confused shrieks as 

 quickly as possible, as if ashamed of the performance. 

 A lark singing high up in a sunny sky and a lark 

 singing in a small cage hanging against a shady wall 

 in a London street produce very different effects ; and 

 the spluttering medley of shrill and harsh sounds 

 from the street singer scarcely seems to proceed 

 from the same kind of bird as that matchless melody 

 filling the blue heavens. There is even a greater 

 difference in the notes of the crested screamer when 

 heard in Regent's Park and when heard on the 

 pampas, where the bird soars upwards until its 

 bulky body disappears from sight, and from that vast 

 elevation pours down a perpetual rain of jubilant 

 sound. 



Screamer being a misnomer, I prefer to call the 

 bird by its vernacular name of chajd, or chakar,3, more 

 convenient spelling. 



With the chakar the sexes are faithful, even in 

 very large flocks the birds all being ranged in 

 couples. When one bird begins to sing its partner 

 immediately joins, but with notes entirely different 

 in quality. Both birds have some short deep notes, 



