THE PLAY OF ANIMALS. 99 



season. This whole plain was covered with an endless 

 flock of chakars, not in close order, but scattered about 

 in pairs and small groups. In this desolate place I 

 found a gaucho and his family, and I spent the night 

 with them. . . . About nine o'clock we were eating 

 supper in the rancho, when suddenly the entire multi- 

 tude of birds covering the marsh for miles around burst 

 forth into a tremendous evening song. It is impossible 

 to describe the effect of this mighty rush of sound. . . . 

 One pecidiarity was that in this mighty noise, which 

 sounded louder than the sea thundering on a rocky 

 coast, I seemed to be able to distinguish hundreds, even 

 thousands, of individual voices. 



" Forgetting my supper, I sat motionless and over- 

 come with astonishment, while the air and even the frail 

 rancho seemed to be trembling in that tempest of sound. 

 " ^\h.en it ceased, my host remarked, with a smile, 

 ' We are accustomed to this, sehor— every evening we 

 have this concert.' It was a concert wor^h riding a 

 hundred miles to hear." * 



Much might be said of the twittering of sparrows, 

 the quacking of ducks and geese, the flapping of storks, 

 etc.; but, as has been remarked, it is difficult to de- 

 termine how far such phenomena, especially the com- 

 plicated ones, are connected with courtship. I re- 

 serve for the next chapter a closer examination of them. 

 However, it may be noted here that in merely experi- 

 mental noises and voice practice there is a suggestion of 

 art which is not connected with courtship. 

 2. Movement Plays. 

 By this term I designate plays that involve change 

 of place for its own sake. Hunting and fighting, m- 

 * W. H. Hudson, The Naturalist in La Plata, 1895, p. 227. 



