POWER OF A BIRD-VOICE 307 



big partridge called from the grass and another bird 

 answered the call, then another, until from all over 

 the plain came the sound of their calling. What 

 was it in the voice of that bird that made his heart 

 so heavy, that there were times when he felt he could 

 cast himself face down on the ground and cry like 

 a woman? Was it that the voice told him he was 

 alone on the earth ? 



The bird he spoke of was the rufous tinamu, called 

 perdiz grande (big partridge) in the vernacular, on 

 account of its superficial resemblance in colour and 

 shape to the partridge; a bird the size of a fowl with 

 a very beautiful voice, its evening call being com- 

 posed of two long clear notes followed by a tri- 

 syllabic note, or a phrase of three notes strongly 

 accented on the first, with the human contralto-like 

 quality which gave it the beautiful expression. 



It was, I take it, this character of the sound which 

 touched a chord in him and gave him that divine 

 despair, and made the tears rise in his heart; his 

 words, in fact, were almost those of the poet when he 

 says of such tears, "I know not what they mean." 



It had seemed to me that he was talking poetry, 

 but he spoilt the effect when, in conclusion of his 

 argument, he threw his head back, and pursing out 

 his lips attempted to give us a whistled imitation of 

 the bird's evening song. It was a ludicrous failure, 

 and made us laugh. But it was not wanted; his 

 words had brought back to our minds a memory, 

 an image, of that voice of the desert, since we were 

 aU familiar with it although the bird was not to be 



