JOURNEY. 



14 WANDERINGS IN 



FIRST i s no t shut to the wild sounds in the woods, will 

 be delighted in passing up the river Demerara. 

 Every now and then, the maam or tinamou sends 

 forth one long and plaintive whistle from the 

 depth of the forest, and then stops ; whilst the 

 yelping of the toucan, and the shrill voice of the 

 bird called pi-pi-yo, is heard during the interval. 

 The campanero never fails to attract the atten- 

 tion of the passenger ; at a distance of nearly 

 three miles, you may hear this snow-white bird 

 tolling every four or five minutes, like the distant 

 convent bell. From six to nine in the morning, 

 the forests resound with the mingled cries and 

 strains of the feathered race ; after this, they 

 gradually die away. From eleven to three all 

 nature is hushed as in a midnight silence, and 

 scarce a note is heard, saving that of the cam- 

 panero and the pi-pi-yo; it is then that, oppressed 

 by the solar heat, the birds retire to the thickest 

 shade, and wait for the refreshing cool of evening. 

 At sundown the vampires, bats, and goat- 

 suckers dart from their lonely retreat, and skim 

 along the trees on the river's bank. The diffe- 

 rent kinds of frogs almost stun the ear with their 

 hoarse and hollow sounding croaking, while the 

 owls and goat-suckers lament and mourn all night 

 long. 



About two hours before daybreak, you will 

 hear the red monkey moaning as though in deep 

 distress; the houtou, a solitary bird, and only 



