In the Wilds of South America

by Leo E. Miller

In the tangles of tall bamboo growing on the bank and drooping out over the water lived flocks of hoatzins and numbers of several species of dendrocolaptine birds or wood-hewers; also an occasional water-turkey and cormorant. Many black-and-white ibises soared above in circles and at a great height; they acted not unlike vultures, but the long, outstretched neck and legs immediately gave a clew to their identity.

The forest was full of surprises. One morning my companion encountered a tamanduá ant-eater which was on the ground, and refused to realize that the close proximity of man meant danger; he was but lightly armed, and shot the tough, thick-skinned animal with the 32-bore auxiliary tube of his shotgun, and number 12 shot—an unheard-of feat.

It was, however, not always necessary to go into the forest to hunt; the open plot in which the settlement lay attracted many birds, such as scarlet tanagers, vermilion flycatchers, swallows, and others, which were never found in the forest, and small mammals in abundance lived in the houses. We frequently caught five species of rats in a single house in one night, and at least two species of bats lived in the palm-leaf thatch of the roof. Some of the rodents, particularly a large, spiny rat, lived under the floor, while others made the walls and ceiling their homes; each species seemed to adhere more or less to its own part of the dwelling, thus dividing the houses into well-defined “life-zones.”

The natives are very fond of the flesh of the spiny rat and often begged for any which chanced to come to our traps.

Ocelots were not wanting in the neighborhood; they visited the hen-houses occasionally at night, but never entered by the doors, preferring to tear holes in the side of the structures; they killed a large number of fowls, on one occasion nearly twenty on a single visit, and prompted apparently by the mere lust for killing.

At night vampire-bats came out in hordes; they attacked everything from human beings on down; even the few miserable pigs kept by the Indians were severely bitten and kept up a continuous squealing as the bloodthirsty creatures settled on them, usually at the base of the ears, and began their painful operations. The worst sufferers by far, however, were our mules. As soon as the sun set our peons brought the animals to the corral and strapped canvas covers over them; this precaution was of little avail, for the bats attacked all exposed parts, causing the mules to kick and roll, with the result that their covers were soon torn off. We went out frequently to watch these obnoxious creatures at work; after circling above their prospective victim a few times, they dropped suddenly, usually upon the neck or flanks, and at once began to bite and suck, making a grating sound with the teeth all the while. They paid no attention to us, although we stood but a few feet away, but clung with folded wings to their prey, perfectly motionless and in an upright position; if we moved they uttered a few squeaks, but made no attempt to fly until we reached for them and came to within a few inches, when they reluctantly fluttered up, but almost immediately settled on the other side of the animal. Desiring specimens of them for our collection, we went one night to the corral armed with a butterfly-net and, approaching one of the mules on whose back were a dozen or more bats, made a hurried sweep with the net; as the large, white bag of netting scraped the back of the nervous animal he sank to his knees with a groan of despair, wondering, no doubt, what new monster had swooped down upon him to add fresh suffering to his already unbearable existence.

In the morning the mules were in a pathetic condition; blood continued to flow from the wounds made by the bats’ sharp teeth, so that the ground was red and the animals were covered from head to foot. It was always necessary to take them to the river and wash them, then disinfect the numerous punctures; if this is not done flies attack the sore spots, infesting them with their larvæ, and the animals die of blood-poison. After three nights we were compelled to start the mules back to Cochabamba, as they were on the verge of exhaustion.

Vampire-bat from Todos Santos.