128 JUNGLE PEACE 



here and there, and great blue-black bees fum- 

 bled in and out of the hibiscus, yellowed with 

 pollen and too busy to stop a second in their 

 day-long labor. 



This little area held very strange creatures as 

 well, some of which we saw even in our few 

 hours' search. Four-eyed fish skittered over the 

 water, pale as the ghosts of fish, and when 

 quiet, showing only as a pair of bubbly eyes. 

 Still more weird hairy caterpillars wriggled 

 their way through the muddy, brackish current 

 — aquatic larvae of a small moth which I had 

 not seen since I found them in the trenches of 

 Para. 



The only sound at this time of day was a 

 drowsy but penetrating tr-r-r-r-r-p! made by a 

 green-bodied, green-legged grasshopper of good 

 size, whose joy in life seemed to be to lie length- 

 wise upon a pimpler branch, and skreek vio- 

 lently at frequent intervals, giving his wings 

 a frantic flutter at each utterance, and slowly 

 encircling the stem. 



In such environment the hoatzin lives and 

 thrives, and, thanks to its strong body odor, has 

 existed from time immemorial in the face of 

 terrific handicaps. The odor is a strong musky 



