SOUTH AMERICA. 
13 
passing up the river Demerara. Every now and ■ first 
then, the maam or tinamou sends forth one long J0URNEY 
and plaintive whistle from the depth of the forest, 
and then stops; whilst the yelping of the toucan, 
and the shrill voice of the bird called pi-pi-yo, is 
heard during the interval. The campanero never 
fails to attract the attention of the passenger: at a 
distance of nearly three miles, you may hear this 
snow-white bird tolling every four or live minutes, 
like the distant convent bell. From six to nine in 
the morning, the forests resound with the mingled 
cries and strains of the feathered race ; after this, 
they gradually die away. From eleven to three all 
nature is hushed as in a midnight silence, and scarce 
a note is heard, saving that of the campanero and 
the pi-pi-yo; it is then that, oppressed by the solar 
heat, the birds retire to the thickest shade, and wait 
for the refreshing cool of evening. 
At sundown the vampires, bats, and goat-suckers 
dart from their lonely retreat, and skim along the 
trees on the river’s bank. The different kinds of 
frogs almost stun the ear with their hoarse and hollow¬ 
sounding croaking, while the owls and goat-suckers 
lament and mourn all night long. 
About two hours before daybreak, you will hear 
the red monkey moaning as though in deep distress; 
the houtou, a solitary bird, and only found in the 
thickest recesses of the forest, distinctly articulates, 
u houtou, houtou,” in a low and plaintive tone, an 
hour before sunrise; the maam whistles about the 
same hour; the liannaquoi, pataca, and maroudi 
i 
