A SUMMER ON THE YENESEl 37 



distinct notes. One was the familiar cuckoo call ; the 

 other was a weird hoo-hoo-hoo, which rang for miles in 

 the forest. I was not well acquainted with the cuckoo 

 family, and hastily jumped to the conclusion that the 

 new call belonged to the dark birds. I made several 

 attempts to secure one of the latter, but always failed to 

 do so. When I returned to England, Mr. Popham 

 kindly allowed me to see nine skins that he obtained on 

 the Yenesei some years ago. These skins were formerly 

 identified as Cuculus canorus, but they have recently 

 been re-examined by Mr. H. F. Witherby, who pro- 

 nounces that all but two belong to an allied species, 

 C. optatus, which ranges eastwards from the Yenesei 

 to China, and southwards to the Himalayas. It 

 differs from our bird in note, and also in the cream- 

 coloured underwing- and undertail-coverts, and in the 

 broader markings on the breast. Among these C. 

 optatis are two examples of the red or hepatic variety 

 of plumage. I have not much doubt but that the dark 

 birds that I saw belonged to this type. If so, it is 

 common on the Yenesei, for I reckoned that one-third 

 of all the cuckoos seen belonged to this form. 



We walked along the beach, and about half a mile 

 from the ship, where the covert was densest, I heard 

 a little crackle of brushwood. There, hidden among 

 the willows, were two little Ostiaks, gathering fire- 

 wood and chattering together as they worked. In their 

 brown hide dresses they looked as much children of 

 the primitive forests as wild fawns or hares, and they 

 were nearly as timid. At the rustle of our passing, 

 they looked up, startled, with their gentle, inquiring 



