;:*f THE HOT LANDS OF THE PACIFIC 



and sound quickened our breath. For an instant apple- 

 trees, high river-banks, and a quiet mill-pond replaced 

 palms, bamboos, and the dark, jungle-stained pool. But 

 only for an instant, for, from upstream, a second king- 

 fisher form came into view and swerved up from its 

 water-skimming flight to a low perch across the pool. 

 A little green and white Texas Kingfisher quirked his 

 head downward, glanced quickly at us, as we smiled at 

 his diminutive figure. As if to reproach our amusement, 

 he dived like an arrow, splashed beneath the water, 

 and returned to the perch with an inch-long minnow. 

 Surprise must indeed have been written on our faces, as 

 a third kingfisher — a giant of his race — flew swiftly 

 toward us and perched near his pigmy cousin. How 

 insigrnificant the Belted King^fisher now seemed ! He 

 fairly shrunk before our eyes, as our gauge of de- 

 velopment shifted to the newcomer, the great Rufous- 

 bellied Kingfisher. To our eyes, the two extremes 

 seemed comparable to a sparrow and a raven. Two 

 charges of shot and a millimetre rule would, doubtless, 

 have shown this to be an exaggeration, but we were 

 content to let them live and refer to our handbook for 

 measurements. 



The big cousin was a handsome bird, with his warm 

 red under parts set off by the bands of blue and white 

 across his breast. We waited eagerly to hear his voice. 

 But his rattle was not so clear nor so loud and pene- 

 trating as that of our Belted Kingfisher. 



*4. 317 ^ 



