LIFE IN THE WOODS. 
79 
Lone-sittinn; in her embowered nest, the troo^on mourns the long; absence 
of her mate. Tiny creepers, flashing witli colours, run up and down 
the mossy trunks in search of their insect prey. In the fruit-trees the 
toucan is busy at his work of plunder, solacing himself meanwhile with 
the uttei'ance of his monotonous song — Tucdno, tucdno. On every 
branch the chatterers are making merry. High up in the green cloud 
of foliage may be heard the woodpecker's steady strokes ; and melo- 
dious thrushes are singing together in perfect harmony. Parrots are 
gossiping, and parroquets screaming. Wood - pigeons, the "birds of 
the painted breasts," coo tenderly in tlie deepest shades ; while many a 
pheasant rises from the brushwood with a whirr of its active wings. 
Most beautiful of all, the humming-birds, those " winged jewels," those 
" living gems," as they have been called in vain attempts to describe in 
words their beauty, the " beijar-flors " or "kiss-flowers " of the Brazilians, 
are continually sporting in the rays of sunshine that stream through 
the matted roof of foliage ; now pausing in their swift flight to contend 
with some audacious bumble-bee, now stooping to extract the " nectared 
sweets " of some balmy flower. 
Other forms of animal life are not wanting. Butterflies of a size 
unknown to temperate climes, and clothed in the rarest and richest 
hues, fill the air with coruscations like the play of pendent jewels ; gaily- 
coated insects sparkle on every leaf; the lizard, equipped in green and 
gold, glides forth from his sandy burrow ; legions of ants pursue their 
continuous march in spite of every obstacle ; high up among the trees 
the monkeys are chasing one another in lively play ; squirrels leap 
merrily from limb to limb, as if filled with fresh activity by the happy 
