THE LIFE OF THE ABARY SAVANNAS. 3S3 



dale was shot in the lagoon a few days before, or rather shot 

 at, as the beast seemed to be none the worse. 



SmaU wonder that, when we consider snal^cs, crocodiles 

 otters and voracious fishes, that the gentle Vicissi Ducks 

 prefer the safer vegetation of the marsh itself! The real 

 birds of night were few — but with voices weird and awe- 

 some, in perfect harmony with this unpeopled waste. A 

 pair of Parauciue-like beings who in uttering liquid accents 

 reiterated their names, mingled with the ever tragic toned 

 questioning of another Goatsucker, pleading with us to end 

 his agonized uncertainty — Who-are-yoil ? Who-are-yoii ? 



Early on the morning of our last day, April i5ih, I awoke 

 and peered out through the dimness of my muslin hammock 

 net to catch the first hint of dawn. The east soon became 

 lighter and the warp and woof of the cloth softened and dis- 

 guised the scene which stretclied before me from the edge 

 of the veranda. As I la.y there half awake, I seemed to see 

 great towering moras, with their masses of dependent para- 

 sites, stretching high into the air. This passed, and the 

 savanna became more distinct — the whistle of Ducks' 

 wings overhead was almost incessant, with now and then the 

 note of a Hoatzin. Dull thuds indicating some one at labor 

 behind the bungalow and the sound of low negro voices 

 added to the imagery and I seemed to be with the black men 

 three score years before, laboring at their island, fighting dis- 

 ease and starvation — harassed by heat, insects and reptiles; 

 ever on the watch for their pursuing masters while the orange 

 headed Vultures soared overhead, waiting for their turn 

 which sooner or later would come. 



A bit of comedy broke in upon my dream — the voices of 

 the negroes from their hammocks at the other end of the porch 

 became audible for a moment. 



"Wont you tak' a drink of sompfin to interact de cold?" 



"No tanks, ah doesn't stimulate." 



