Walter Goodfellow—Some Reminiscences of a Collector 447


Parrot. I have heard that the Jivaros Indians on the Curarai Upper

Amazon keep large numbers of animals and birds in a building con¬

structed for that purpose in the centre of their villages, and looked

after by the community. I heard this from several sources along the

Napo, so possibly it is true. I have often thought how I would like

to visit them, as no doubt good things might be picked up.


Hoatzins were numerous along the banks of rivers in the forests

of Esperanza. Twice I had an odd one brought in ; one I had to kill

as it had a damaged wing, and the other I let go. In both cases

I noticed how helpless they were when set on the floor. They ran

in a drunken-like manner, with claws doubled up, until they came to

the wall, and then dropped down. They seemed to have no sense of

direction, neither did they use their feet in the ordinary way. When

crossing a river they just drop down anyhow on the bushes, trusting

to their powerful claws to get a foothold. I never saw their nests,

although I was told they bred in our neighbourhood. I am afraid

these birds have no attraction for me, as long ago I saw how hopeless

they would be as inmates of an aviary, especially so as leaves form

their sole diet. When freshly caught they have a very disagreeable

odour, at least the two brought to me had. Hoatzins are a common

sight along the banks of all the rivers leading to the Amazon, some¬

times in great numbers, and often about after dark. The Indians do

not eat the flesh.


Ever since early boyhood I have been fond of hand-rearing young

birds, and I am still. The people employed at Esperanza had no idea

whatever how to catch any kind of bird, so it was only nestlings they

brought in. The most important, from its position in the household,

was a Blue-and-yellow Macaw which I got very shortly after my

arrival. It was one of two in a nest in a great royal palm, the other

was allowed to remain there. I was two days’ ride from home and

I remember still what a helpless ungainly creature it was, still in the

down, and seemingly all head and beak. I carried it in a towel on

the front of the saddle and had only boiled sweet potatoes to give

it. “ Lora,” it was eventually called, developed into quite a personality.

At first it lived on the seat of a chair on the verandah, and after it

could climb, on the back. It seemed quite content to stay there even



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