FIFTEEN HUNDRED MILES ON THE ORINOCO 157 



river to San Fernando de Atabapo, we had time to explore 

 the surrounding country and to visit the rapids, three in 

 number, which obstruct the river. The woods are wonder- 

 ful beyond description; most of the trees are gnarled and 

 low, as if grown under the guiding hand of a skilful Japa- 

 nese gardener, and have the appearance of being hundreds 

 of years old. Stunted spiny palms rear their crowns here 

 and there, and an occasional tangle of red-flowered creepers 

 forms an umbrella-like mass on the tip of some slender, 

 dead stub. The ground is sprinkled with rocks of fantastic 

 shapes, and some are of enormous size, rising in needle-like, 

 fluted columns, or as the crumbling tiers of massive walls 

 amid the curiously distorted vegetation. Along the river 

 are other masses of rock, but of an entirely different forma- 

 tion; we saw caves and grottos, and ledges honeycombed 

 with hundreds of pot-holes exposed by the low water. 



Beyond the woods are large areas of cacti, pineapples, 

 and low, thorny bushes, springing from crevices in the 

 granite ledges. Bird life is abundant and varied. Quail 

 and red-breasted meadow-larks occupy the open country, 

 as well as a species of the much-sought tinamou; but a bird 

 that proved to be the most interesting was a small, obscure 

 individual called nunlet or swallow-wing. All day long the 

 little creature, about the size of a king-bird, black above 

 and gray below, with a saffron band across the throat, sits 

 on the top of some dead tree, seemingly asleep; but let a 

 fly or an insect of almost any kind pass along and the bird 

 immediately becomes charged with activity and darts into 

 the air in hot pursuit, catches its victim, and returns to its 

 perch with graceful flits of the wings. It remains on the 

 same twigs for hours, and usually returns day after day. 

 If a stick is thrown at it the little creature flies away and 

 comes back again and again. But stupid as the bird ap- 

 pears to be, it is nevertheless a skilful architect. I have 

 seen them dig perfectly round holes deep into a bank of 

 sand so loose that the whole mass would crumble at my 

 touch; while one bird digs with much scratching and work- 



