258 TROPICAL WILD LIFE IN BRITISH GUIANA 



Late one afternoon I was some distance from Kalacoon 

 when a sudden downpour of rain came on. I had many snug- 

 retreats and shelters scattered through the jungle of which 

 I made use whenever I was caught with a camera in one 

 of the occasional afternoon showers. I ran at once to a huge 

 hollow tree, whose splayed buttresses arched far outward, 

 and whose great hollow trunk vibrated alternately day and 

 night with the humming wings of swifts and the softer swish 

 of bats. During the course of the rain I found many things 

 to watch, for the life of the jungle is often most interesting 

 at unusual moments. The incident which dwarfed all others, 

 however, was a great tinamou, a Tinamus, a maru, which 

 stepped past with quick, dainty strides and half leaped, half 

 fluttered awkwardly up to the base of a leaning tree, and with 

 wildly balancing wings, made its way forty or fifty feet still 

 higher to a large horizontal branch. Here without hesita- 

 tion, backed close against the trunk, the bird squatted, and 

 facing lengthways of the branch, rested on its tarsi, which 

 were applied closely to the rough, mossy bark. 



The third and conclusive phase of the quest of the 

 "Why?" had come. Now, indeed, we could return to Tina- 

 mus and to Crypturus, and resurrect them from the tomb of 

 meaningless terms, of hollow names, of inarticulate raison d' 

 etre. Our answer to the "Why?" has made them significant, 

 surcharged with a reality of difference, and has aroused a 

 desire to carry the interrogation farther, striving to 'learn 

 the reason for the tree roost. 



GUIANA GREAT TINAMOU 



Tinamus major (Gmelin) 



This big, olive greenish tinamou was the most abundant 

 of the three Bartica species, and it was seldom that one took 

 a walk in the jungle without observing or flushing several 

 birds. They were equally common on both banks of the 

 Mazaruni and up the Cuyuni. The early morning and late 



