-107 
The sunlight has just faded in the clearing and 
from a thicket on the river hank directly opposite and 
within twenty paces of where I am sitting, rises the 
weird, unearthly call of a Tinamou, V/ hat a soundl As 
beautiful as any bird voice I ever listened to and yet 
as cold and heartless as the voice of a fiend. It is like 
the tinkling of ice. I shiver as I listen. 
