114 The Wilson Bulletin. 



Its favorite haunts are the low bushes covering the 

 hillsides and the tropical growth fringing the small 

 streams of the ravines and valleys. Its characteristic 

 note, a lively little whistle, readily betrays its^presence; but 

 its small size, listless habits, and protective colors, make it 

 inconspicuous amongst the luxuriant plant life of its home. 



During the course of a several month's stay in Matanzas 

 province, in the winter and spring of 1889, I had the good 

 fortune to frequently observe this curious little bird. 



To the west of Matanzas bay, beyond the rough lime- 

 stone hills which rise from its western shore, there stretches 

 the broad and verdant valley of the Yumuri. Dotted with 

 palms and clothed in rich vegetation, it is a vale of tropic 

 beauty perhaps unsurpassed in all Cuba. Low hills rise 

 gently around it and, in the ravines between them in some 

 places, small streams, their margins a profusion of plant 

 life, trickle over rocks, fall in miniature cascades, and 

 course down to the plain below. One day in February, as 

 I followed one of these little streams in search of birds, 

 working my way through the rank vegetation bordering it, 

 I ran across the Tody for the first time. A sudden little 

 whistle, rapidly repeated, came from the thick foliage of a 

 bush close at hand. There was no accompanying move- 

 ment amongst the leaves, and for some time I stood watch- 

 ing closely in hope of making out the author of the note, 

 supposing that it was a bird of some size, proportionate 

 to its voice. Close scrutiny did not reveal it, however, and 

 I struck the bush with my gun barrel, when there was a 

 quick whirring noise, and out darted a tiny, brilliantly 

 colored bird about the size of a Winter Wren, and dropped 

 to a twig a few feet away, where it sat bobbing its head 

 up and down. With its queer, stocky little body raised 

 to an upright attitude, its bill pointing vertically, it soon 

 became rigidly motionless, and thus remained for some 

 time as if asleep. It was surprisingly tame, not taking 

 flight until I came so close that I could almost touch it, 

 and then flying a few feet to another bush from which it 



