1909] Beebe: Ecology of the Hoatzin. 57 



tation; at times rising to a height of twenty or thirty feet or 

 again appearing only two or three yards above the grass and 

 reeds beyond. 



The presence of this bushy vegetation on only one side of 

 the river is probably due to the prevailing winds, which blow 

 from the east. The bush grows altogether in the water and 

 consists chiefly of a species of tall arum, or mucka-mucka as the 

 natives call it, frequently bound together by a tangle of delicate 

 vines. Here and there is a tree-like growth, white-barked with 

 entire obtuse leaves. This narrow ribbon of aquatic growth is 

 the home of the Hoatzins, and from one year's end to another 

 they may be found along the same reaches of the river. In gen- 

 eral, their habits do not differ from those of the birds which we 

 observed in Venezuela. 



Throughout the heat of mid-day no sight or sound reveals 

 the presence of the birds, but as the afternoon wears on, a single 

 raucous squawk may be heard in the distance, and we know that 

 the Hoatzins are astir. Directly in front of the bungalow, be- 

 tween it and the river, the brush has been cut away on either 

 hand for a distance of about sixty yards. Every evening, from 

 4.30 to 5.30 P. M., the Hoatzins gather on the extreme northern 

 end of this wide break in their line of thickets, until sometimes 

 twenty-five or thirty birds are in sight at once. Some fly down 

 to the low branches and begin to tear off pieces of the young 

 tender shoots of the mucka-mucka. With much noise and flap- 

 ping of wings, several soon make their way to a single bare 

 branch which projects over the cleared marsh. 



The first bird makes many false starts, crouching and then 

 losing heart, but the next on the branch getting impatient, 

 nudges him a bit, and at last he launches out into the air. With 

 rather slow wing beats, but working apparently with all his 

 power, he spans the wide expanse of clear bush, then the ten 

 feet of water, then fifteen yards more of stumps, and with a 

 final effort he clutches a branch — and his goal is reached. After 

 several minutes of breathlessness, he makes his way out of sight 

 into the det)ths of the brush. A second Hoatzin essays the feat, 

 but fails ignominiously and falls mid-way, coming down all of a 

 heap among the stumps. Here a rest is taken, and for five or 

 ten minutes the bird may feed quietly. Then a second flight 

 carries it back to the starting point or on to the end of the open 

 space. 



Sometimes when the birds alight and clutch a twig, they are 

 so exhausted that they topple over and hang upside down for a 

 moment. 



