Idle Days. 131 
they skulk from notice, how much more so to observe 
them disporting themselves without fear or restraint, 
unconscious of any intrusive presence! Yet such 
observation only satisfies the naturalist, and when 
obtained it amply repays the silence, the watching, 
and the waiting it costs. In some cases the oppor- 
tunities are so rare that whilst they are being sought, 
and without ever actually occurring, the observer day 
by day grows more familiar with the manners of the 
wild creatures that still succeed in eluding his sight. 
Now the little cock (Rhinocrypa lanceolata), an 
amusing bird that lives on the ground, carries its 
tail erect and looks wonderfully like a very small 
bantam, has spied me, and, full of alarm, utters his 
loud chirrup from an adjacent bush. Gently I steal 
towards him, careful to tread on the sand, then peer 
cautiously into the foliage. For a few moments he 
scolds me with loud, emphatic tones, and then is 
silent. Fancying him still in the same place, I walk 
about the bush many times, striving to catch sight 
of him. Suddenly the loud chirrup is resumed in 
a bush a stone’s-throw away; and soon, getting 
tired of this game of hide-and-seek, in which the 
bird has all the fun and I all the seeking, I give it 
up and ramble on. 
Then, perhaps, the measured, deep, percussive 
tones of the subterranean Ctenomys, well named 
oculto in the vernacular, resound within a dozen 
yards of my feet. So near and loud do they sound, 
Iam convinced the shy little rodent has ventured 
for a moment to visit the sunshine. I might 
K 2 
