BIRDS OF TRINIDAD AND TOBAGO. 251 



Trinidad, December 24th. — This morning I was astir long 

 before the break of day, joining a party of Creole deer-hunters 

 on an excursion to a neighbouring valley. When I left my house 

 at three the full moon was just sinking behind the hills to the 

 northwards, and the light from it seemed to plate the burnished 

 foliage of the Tropics with an extraordinary wealth of silver. 

 The air was delightfully fresh and charged with the pungent 

 smell of growing things. A heavy dew lay upon everything, 

 soaking our clothes as we forced our way along the overgrown 

 pathways. The noisy din of insects — so aggressively loud when 

 one retires to bed — had almost ceased, but one still heard the 

 occasional cry of some unknown night bird, and the more 

 familiar muffled "poop-poop-poop" of the " Petite Chouette " 

 (Glaucidium phalcenoides). This pigmy Owl, scarce larger than 

 a Sparrow, is very common in Trinidad, where I have both seen 

 and heard it in broad daylight. It is exceedingly sprightly in 

 all its movements, and has a peculiar habit of violently jerking 

 its tail. Its note, repeated ten or twelve times in succession, 

 although soft, is nevertheless loud and resonant, and on account 

 of its monotony soon becomes wearisome. 



With the first paling of dawn a babel of bird voices fell 

 upon my ear, and this speedily increased in volume until the 

 forest glades were filled with a clamour of strange and unfamiliar 

 sounds. A naturalist fresh from northern latitudes is sure to 

 be impressed by the infinite variety of these notes. It is not so 

 much that each bird possesses a large vocabulary (the reverse is 

 probably the case), but that the island is remarkably rich in 

 species, most of these being represented by a comparatively 

 even (and often small) number of individuals. Compared with 

 European birds, the notes of these tropical species are generally 

 harsh and squeally, a sustained musical song being almost 

 unknown in this country. 



One of the first birds to make itself heard was the " Caille," a 

 species of Tinamou (Crypturus soui).* It produces a shrill, 

 sibilant sound — a rather mournful, high-pitched note, suggesting 

 to the mind the quivering, silvery neigh of some fabulous creature 

 rather than the cry of a bird. With ventriloquistic power, a 

 few individuals repeatedly answering one another will scatter 

 * Crypturus pileatus, auct. 



