136 JUNGLE PEACE 



set him apart from all modern land birds, as 

 the frog is set apart from the swallow. 



The young hoatzin stood erect for an instant, 

 and then both wings of the little bird were 

 stretched straight back, not folded, bird-wise, 

 but dangling loosely and reaching well beyond 

 the body. For a considerable fraction of time 

 he leaned forward. Then without effort, with- 

 out apparent leap or jump he dived straight 

 downward, as beautifully as a seal, direct as a 

 plummet and very swiftly. There was a 

 scarcely-noticeable splash, and as I gazed with 

 real awe, I watched the widening ripples which 

 undulated over the muddy water — the only trace 

 of the whereabouts of the young bird. 



It seemed as if no one, whether ornithologist, 

 evolutionist, poet or philosopher could fail to be 

 profoundly impressed at the sight we had seen. 

 Here I was in a very real, a very modern boat, 

 with the honk of motor horns sounding from the 

 river road a few yards away through the bushes, 

 in the shade of this tropical vegetation in the 

 year nineteen hundred and sixteen; and yet the 

 curtain of the past had been lifted and I had 

 been permitted a glimpse of what must have 

 been common in the millions of years ago. It 



