THE GAPO. 313 



the rustling of leaves overhead tells us that monkeys are near, 

 and we soon see them peeping down from among the thick 

 foliage, and then bounding rapidly away. Presently we come 

 out into the sunshine, on a lake tilled with lilies and beauti- 

 ful water-plants, little bladder-worts, and the bright blue 

 flowers and curious leaves with swollen stalks of the ponte- 

 derias. Again we are in the gloom of the forest, among the 

 lofty cylindrical trunks rising like columns out of the deep 

 water ; and now there is a splash of fruit falling around us, 

 announcing that birds are feeding overhead, and we discover 

 a flock of parrakeets, or bright blue chatterers, or the lovely 

 pompadour, with its delicate white wings and claret-coloured 

 plumage. Now, with a whir, a trogon on the wing seizes 

 the fruit, or some clumsy toucan makes the branches shake 

 as he alights above our heads. 



This region, as might be supposed, is not destitute of in- 

 habitants. Several tribes of Indians dwell within it all the 

 year round. Among them are the Puru-purus and Muras 

 tribes, who, spending most of their time in their canoes, in 

 the dry season build small huts on its sandy shores ; and 

 when the waters overflow it, form rafts, which they secure 

 between the trees, sleeping in rude huts suspended from the 

 stems over the deep Mater, and lighting their fires on masses 

 of mud placed on their floating homes. They subsist entirely 

 on fish, turtle, and manatee. 



Several species of trogons are peculiar to this submerged 

 region. The curious black umbrella-bird is entirely confined 

 to it, as is also the little bristle-tailed manakin. Several 

 monkeys visit it during the wet season, for the sake of its 

 peculiar fruits ; and here the scarlet-faced urikari has its home. 



For miles and miles together the native traverses this 



