VARIOUS KINDS OF PARROTS.
The variety and multitude of parrots I might almost call innumerable. Every different species differs distinctly in form, voice, and plumage. Those with which I am best acquainted are the paracauteè, the paracaubaỹ, the iribaya, the aruaỹ, the tuî, the mbaracana, the quaà, or quacamayo, the caninde, the catita, or kikilk; and others whose names have slipped my memory. I will relate what is most remarkable respecting those which I know most of. The paracauteè signifies the true and legitimate parrot, which excels the rest in sense and docility, and can imitate the sounds of men and beasts with greatest ease and success. It is equal in size to a young pigeon: its feathers are green, but yellow, red, and blue on the head, wings, and tail. I had in my possession a bird of this kind, which I called Don Pedro, and which articulately pronounced many words, and even whole sentences, in the Spanish, Guarany, and Abiponian languages, and learnt to sing a little Spanish song admirably. Moreover he could imitate violent coughing, laughing, weeping, barking, and an hundred other things so dexterously that you would have sworn it was a man you heard. Whenever I travelled on foot or on horseback, he sat upon my shoulder, always chatty, always playful. When tired of his noise or his weight, I gave him to one of the Indians to carry—he angrily bit the man's ear, and flew back to me. He laughed very loud for a long time at an old Indian woman, whom we met riding on an ass. Though he reposed all day long on my shoulder, yet about sun-set, like fowls, he felt a desire for rest, began to grow angry, and, by clapping his wings, and repeatedly biting my ear, admonished me to stop the journey. Next day when I mounted my horse again, he was extremely delighted, and did nothing but sing and laugh. When I stayed in the town, he sometimes walked up and down a very long rope suspended from two pillars outside the house. When I entered the dining-room he would fly after me, and whilst we were dining, ran about the table, and always flew angrily to bite the Indian who came to take away the rest of the food with the dishes. He tasted, snatched, and swallowed any food that he could lay hold of. He sometimes walked about the court-yard, rubbing and sharpening his beak in the sand, which he often swallowed by way of medicine. Seeing me caress a smaller parrot of another species, filled with envy he attempted to pierce the bird with his beak; but softened by a little coaxing, he not only suffered it to sleep under his wings, but ever afterwards treated it as a pupil, or rather as a son. What the older bird pronounced with a deep voice, the younger repeated in a slenderer one. The Guaranies tie all their tame parrots, by one foot, to a long pole, to prevent them from flying away. These chains did not please me: I therefore clipped one wing of my parrots a little to prevent them from flying long, or far away, leaving them the full liberty of their legs. This Don Pedro of mine, after continuing many years faithful, took advantage of the circumstance of his feathers having grown a little too much, to fly away and disappear. He was sought by many, but without success. At the end of three days he saw me passing through a wood, and knew me instantly. Without delay he crept swiftly along the boughs by the help of his beak and claws, and flew to my shoulder, repeating the words Don Pedro. But though he lavished unbounded caresses on me, he atoned for this desertion by the mutilation of his feathers. I often wondered to hear this parrot repeat the sentences that he knew so opportunely, as if he understood the meaning of them; for when he was hungry, he cried pobre Don Pedro, poor Don Pedro, in a tone calculated to excite compassion, repeating those words again and again, till eatable roots, bread, or some other food was given him. These particulars, relative to my parrot, the memory of which is still dear to me, I have, perhaps with too much prolixity, related, in order to show you how great is the power of education, even upon brute animals. Female parrots learn to imitate human speech quicker and better than the males. My companion had one which could repeat the Lord's Prayer in the Guarany tongue. I could have fancied I heard a child praying. This circumstance is very surprizing, as we find that the females of other birds are almost mute. I never could understand how parrots, brought by Englishmen or Dutchmen from the remotest parts of Asia, Africa, or America, after travelling about so many months, or years perhaps, learn to pronounce sentences either in German or French, or any other language, when in Paraguay it is thought impossible to teach them to speak, unless they be brought unfledged from the nest; for when full grown we have found them quite indocile. They are most conveniently taught at night, or in a dark room, where no object presents itself to their eyes, no sound to their ears: though, whilst walking on their rope, or on a pole, in the court-yard, they insensibly learn to imitate dogs barking, horses neighing, cows lowing, old men coughing, boys whistling, laughing, or crying—being extremely attentive to every thing. By long experience I have found that parrots of every kind will learn better and more willingly from women and children, whose voices are sweeter, than from men.
The paracaubaỹ is of the same size and form as the paracauteè; but its feathers are almost all green, with but a very sparing admixture of blue ones, and perhaps a little yellow, or red feather here and there on its head, wings, and tail. These birds babble some unintelligible stuff, but never utter an articulate sound.
The aruaỹ, which is somewhat smaller than the former, is of a most lovely shape, adorned with red, yellow, and bright green feathers, and capable of talking a great deal, if instructed.
The iribaya, which scarce exceeds a European linnet in size, is sparingly besprent with a few dark green, red, and blue feathers, and is distinguished from the rest by a white circle round the eyes. Though of a very lively temper, garrulous, restless, and apt to bite, it is unable to learn to talk, and has a harsh voice. Some woods abound to such a degree in these birds, that no other kind of parrot can be seen there.
The mbaracanà, and others of the same kind that are entirely green, being devoid of all beauty and docility, are seldom taught by the Indians. The tuỹs are divided into many species. The greenness of their plumage is praised by every body. The least of them does not exceed a man's little finger in length; they are extremely merry, and more apt to bite than any of the rest.
The largest and most beautiful of all the parrots which Paraguay produces, are the quaà, or quacamayo, and the caninde; the latter of which is adorned in every part with feathers of a Prussian blue, and a dark yellow colour; the former with very red and dark blue ones. Their tail is composed of feathers a cubit in length. They are alike in form and size, in which they far exceed a common cock. Their beak is so strong that it would pierce the hard bark of an almond tree at one stroke; you must be cautious, therefore, in handling them. At home they are tamed sooner than you would believe it possible. In the town of St. Joachim I had in my possession some very gentle quaàs and canindes. They walked every day about the yard, and would never suffer themselves to be separated, but always kept company together, and were always quarrelling, so that you might apply to them the words of the poet, Nec tecum possum vivere, nec sine te. They never learn to speak any thing but their own name, which they articulately and clamorously pronounce with a harsh voice. I had often wished to have an unfledged caninde brought me from the nest, feeling quite sure that I should be able to teach it to speak; but these wishes were vain; for the old Indians who were born in the woods, and had long dwelt there, all replied with one accord, God, the Creator of all things, alone knows where the caninde builds its nest. For it is thought to hide its offspring in the hidden recesses of the wood, and from thence, when they are advanced in age, to fly with them to the open plains. Though so many kinds of parrots are exposed for sale at the shops of Lisbon, or are exhibited in the gardens of the chief people there, yet the caninde, which yields to none of the parrot kind in beauty, is never to be met with out of Paraguay, nor is it found in every part of that province even; for, like the other more elegant parrots which I have described, it only inhabits the northern forests. In the more southern regions, parrots of the largest size, but of a sombre dark green colour, and annoying to the ears by their senseless clamours, fly in crowds about the groves, especially those composed of palm trees; where wander also great numbers of very small parrots, about the size of a lark, adorned with pale green feathers, and called catitas, or kikilk. They are merry, playful, cunning, and may easily be taught to pronounce some words. They are kept in leathern cages. Incredible is the mischief they do to fields sowed with maize. Guards are necessary to keep them off. The Indians know how to change the natural colour of the parrot into any other they choose. They pull the feathers up by the roots, and rub the place from which they have been plucked, till it grows red, and blood flows from it; they then instil and press into the pores or sockets of the old feathers, juice of any colour they like. If the wings or tail be imbued with a yellow, red, or blue colour, yellow, red, or blue feathers will grow there. This was practised amongst the Brazilians, Guaranies, and, according to P. Joseph Labrador, amongst the Mbaya savages. The same Father observed that the Indians performed the operation in the beginning of spring or autumn, that green is very easily turned into yellow, and that yellow feathers, if plucked up, will be succeeded by none but yellow ones. Why might not the experiment be tried upon European birds? A red canary, a yellow nightingale, and a blue lark, would certainly be curious objects.
As the beautiful colours of parrots, and their merry garrulity delight the ear and eye, their flesh, in like manner, is extremely pleasing to the palate, but being rather hard, must be beaten a little while, before it will become tender. As parrots are exceedingly suspicious, all times are not equally proper for hunting them. When they assemble on the highest boughs, one of them occupies the top of the tree, that, if any body approaches, he may warn his companions of their danger, and exhort them to flight by sudden clamour. About sun-set they compose themselves to rest like hens. A great crowd generally assemble on one tree, and as each strives to get the highest bough, continual quarrels ensue—one trying to push the other from the seat that he has obtained, whilst, amid horrid clamours, the feathers that they have torn from each other with their beak or claws, fly about in all directions. During these contentions for the highest place, the hunter steals softly thither, and with a gun, or a bow, knocks down the disputing bipeds. If ever you hear the parrots, which you see in the houses of the wealthy, called by other names than those I have mentioned, remember that they must have been brought from other countries, of Asia, Africa, or America. White parrots, with a little red crest, called cockatoos, and others of a grey colour, which I have often seen in Germany, are unknown to Paraguay. The smaller parrots, which we call tuỹ; in the Guarany tongue, have the French name perroquet given them in Europe.
INDIAN CROWS.
Indian crows are black, like those of Europe, but much longer; their head and neck, as far as the beginning of the wings, are bald, smooth, quite destitute of feathers, but full of wrinkles. These birds subsist on the carcasses and entrails of slain beasts. Whenever oxen are killed in the open plain, as usual there, they perch upon trees or roofs of houses, presently rush down upon the intestines, and one taking each end, carry them through the air like a long rope. Their king is clothed with extremely white feathers, and though very seldom seen, flies accompanied by the other crows, as by satellites. As birds of one feather flock together, the Abipones, who live on rapine, bring up the young of these rapacious crows at home, as they become wonderfully tame: for they accompany their masters when they ride out to hunt or enjoy the country, partake their fare, and return when they return, but sometimes suffer themselves to be enticed away by flocks of crows which they meet on the road. Crows' feathers are generally chosen for arrows by the savages, on account of their strength.