LIFE IN THE GUIANA WILDS 189 



follows: "Look through Mr. M.'s drawer to see if he's got 

 a white shirt to bury him in !" 



At frequent intervals throughout the day we heard a 

 deep, powerful note coming from the forest. It was a 

 long-drawn Wow that lasted eight or ten seconds, and 

 exactly resembled the sound made by a circular saw cut- 

 ting its way through a log. This we found was made by 

 the bald-headed cotinga (Gymnocephalus) , a bird the size 

 of a crow, and of a dark-brown color; the head is entirely 

 devoid of feathers, like a vulture's. Invariably several of 

 these curious creatures were together, fluttering about 

 among the lower branches and making the woods ring with 

 their queer, outlandish cries. Another species of cotinga 

 (Xipholend) was very rare; it was of smaller size and of the 

 deepest wine color, with long, graceful wing-coverts and 

 white primaries. When several were together in some tall 

 tree-top they kept up a continuous quacking like a flock of 

 ducks. If a skin of this bird is exposed to heat the color 

 rapidly fades to a sickly bluish-gray. 



One day an Indian hunter brought in a very small red 

 howler monkey, and as I was aware that the species had 

 not been known to live in captivity more than a few weeks, 

 I was very eager to see if I could rear it. On account of its 

 small size it had, of course, to be fed on milk (condensed), 

 which it soon learned to take from the point of a fountain- 

 pen filler. While it thrived and grew rapidly, it was al- 

 ways a sad little fellow and made no attempt to play or 

 show signs of great friendliness. The only advance it ever 

 made was to come up to me occasionally when I spoke to 

 it, and feel of my face with its little black hands. After a 

 time it was given full liberty about the camp, when it would 

 spend hours sitting quietly beside a basin of water gazing at 

 its reflection. After two months, and just as I was congrat- 

 ulating myself on having raised it past- the danger-point 

 of its existence, it climbed to a high shelf and ate a quan- 

 tity of the arsenic compound used in preparing specimens. 



Learning of our presence at Potaro Landing, a Mr. Me- 



