In the Wilds of South America

by Leo E. Miller

The rubber industry ranks third in importance in British Guiana. By far the greater part of this product is balata, collected from indigenous trees that are tapped under careful government supervision. Sapium yields the better quality of rubber, but exists in limited quantities only, and the majority of the trees on plantations have not yet reached the productive age.

Our first headquarters were made at Tumatumari, a short distance above the mouth of the Potaro River. The river is at this point encumbered with a series of rapids ending in a fall of twenty or thirty feet.

Wismar on the Demerara River.

Tumatumari on the Potaro River.

Tumatumari is a small negro settlement, and owes its existence to the gold-mines scattered throughout the surrounding country. We made headquarters in a comfortable bungalow provided by Sproston’s. A good trail leads through the tall forest, a distance of many miles, with numerous side trails branching off in various directions. Along the latter we immediately began to prosecute our work. On our very first excursions we heard the enchanting song of the Guiana solitaire, or quadrille-bird as it is locally known. From the depths of the dark forest there arose a low, mournful note, so liquid and melancholy that the music of no instrument made by the hand of man could equal it in ethereal beauty; gradually it swelled louder and louder, but always preserving the same exquisite quality until the eight notes had been uttered and the song died with a wistful sob. To hear this song is to experience one of the most enchanting of earthly delights, the memory of which will remain as long as life itself and gild the other reminiscences of sweltering days spent in tropical lowlands, of plagues of insects, of fever, and even the hard-fought battles against odds that seemed overwhelming. The bird is a shy little creature, and is obscurely colored; among the deep shadows where it spends its lonely existence the brown and gray of its modest attire blend so well with its surroundings that it is rare indeed to have even a fleeting glimpse of the captivating songster.

Perched in the dead tops of some of the tallest trees, we found a bird which, seen from below, resembled a giant long-tailed hummer; but a short time spent in observation soon disclosed the fact that it belonged to another family, so different were its habits. It sat motionless many minutes at a time, and darted off a short distance, presumably in pursuit of an insect, at infrequent intervals, only to quickly return to its perch. This was the paradise jacamar, a resplendent bird with a metallic green back and black underparts. The jacamars form a peculiar family, and have been frequently called “forest-kingfishers” because of their superficial resemblance to the Alcyones. The greater number of species are gorgeously colored and inhabit the lower branches of forest-trees, feeding on insects. The nest is placed in a hole in the bank of some wild ravine or river.

The abundance of bird-life, and also the variety, found in the lowland forest of British Guiana is bewildering, even to the seasoned field-observer; and nowhere in all South America are the feathered folk clothed in more brilliant and gorgeous colors. Evolution, it seems, has run riot in almost every conceivable direction in an effort to provide each species with some special color or characteristic that might enhance its beauty or better suit it to compete successfully with its hosts of neighbors. Thus we find the king-tody, a species of small flycatcher that preys upon insects. The body of the bird is inconspicuously colored, but the head is adorned with a crest of the most vivid scarlet feathers. As the bird sits quietly upon some low perch, the crest is depressed and invisible; then suddenly the flaming crown is erected and spread in fan-shaped formation, when it resembles a brilliant flower newly burst into bloom. Is it not possible that this flashing bit of color may attract some passing insect, which instead of finding nectar meets destruction?

However, I do not believe that the survival of every species is dependent upon some one particular patch of color or exotic appendage which it may possess. It does not seem to me possible, for instance, that one species of humming-bird owes its existence to a green throat-patch, or another of similar size and habits to a red or blue one; nor that one bird of paradise persists because it has curious, long appendages on its head or shoulders while a second one may have similar ones in its tail; but rather does it show that evolution tries many experiments. Each animate thing is full of latent buds, it would seem, any one of which might break out at any time, prompted by an impulse or conditions of which we know nothing. If the result of such newly acquired variation is beneficial, the species would naturally persist; if injurious, it would result in extermination; if indifferent (neither harmful nor of value) it would have no effect one way or the other, and might still be retained. This latter, I believe, has occurred in a number of instances.