File:Our search for a wilderness; an account of two ornithological expeditions to Venezuela and to British Guiana (1910) (14565810729).jpg

Identifier: oursearchforwild00nile (find matches)
Title: Our search for a wilderness; an account of two ornithological expeditions to Venezuela and to British Guiana
Year: 1910 (1910s)
Authors: Niles, Blair Beebe, William, 1877-1962
Subjects: Natural history Birds
Publisher: New York, H. Holt and company

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ravely ringing, but as thedawn approached, the little nocturnal musicians ceasedtolling and the chorus died out with a few faint, final tinkles.Six oclock, and the sunshine upon the tree-tops brought aburst of sound from the Woodhewers, a succession of twelveto twenty loud, ringing tones in a rapidly descending scale —Canyon Wren-like and taken up continuously from far andnear. The very tang and crispness of the early dawnseemed to inspire the quality of their notes. l62 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. As soon as it was light, Swallows were seen in numbers,small, dark steel-blue in color with a striking band of whiteacross the breast. These beautiful Banded Swallows118kept at first to two levels in the air; close to the water, fairlyskimming its surface, and high up above the tallest trees —marking I suppose the early morning distribution of gnatsand other insects. Most delicate and fairy-like they appearedwhen perched on some great orchid-hung dead branch pro-truding from the water.
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Fic. 75. Indian Boys in Dug-out. We can find no adjectives to express the beauty and calmof the cool, early morning on these tropical rivers. Myriads - untold myriads of leaves and branches surround us likethe- lofty walls of a canyon. We have used the words wall inthis connection many times and no oilier word seems to be sosuitable. All sense of flatness is lost in the light of the dawn ;and instead we sec- these living walls now as infinitely softened;but still the eye cannot penetrate the intricate tangle. Not abreath of air stirs the smallest leaf. It is like the fairy river STEAMER AND LAUNCH TO HOORIE CREEK. 163 of an enchanted country — all Nature quiet and resting —with only the brown current ever slipping silently past, hereand there foam-necked or bearing some tiny aquatic plantwith its rosette of downy leaves. Then, — the lush tropical nature rushing ever to extremes— comes a deluge of virile life upon the scene. A great fishleaps far upward, shattering the surface,

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