io6 IN THE GUIANA FOREST. 



once proves that the forest is by no means wanting 

 in animal life. From the top of a giant mora 

 comes the screeching of a flock of parrots or 

 macaws, here and there a toucan is uttering its 

 puppy-like bark, from far away comes the ting 

 of the campanero, and a hundred other species 

 utter their peculiar cries at intervals. Before 

 sunrise they begin to wake ; here and there a 

 bird greets the morn like the domestic cock, 

 and as the sun begins to flash his rays over the 

 green expanse, every bird is up and doing, his 

 brilliant colours glowing against the almost black 

 foliage. But even then a sportsman complains 

 that they are few. In an English wood he looks 

 for and generally finds flocks of one species of 

 bird ; but here in South America, with few excep- 

 tions, he has to be content with individuals or very 

 small companies. 



When we see the average white sportsman go 

 into the forest to destroy such beautiful creatures 

 as parrots and toucans, simply to gratify his 

 murderous appetite we are more than shocked. 

 Even when he wounds one of them it often 

 clutches at a twig and remains there to suffer, 

 or drops in the forest where it cannot be found. 

 The Indian kills to eat, and very rarely wounds. 

 He cannot afford to waste powder and shot, while 



