"On recrossing the river in the evening, a pretty little parrot fell from a great height headlong into the water near the boat, having dropped from a flock which seemed to be fighting in the air. One of the Indians secured it for me; and I was surprised to find the bird uninjured. There had probably been a quarrel about mates, resulting in our little stranger being temporarily stunned by a blow on the head from the beak of a jealous comrade. It was of the species called by the natives Maracaná; the plumage green, with a patch of scarlet under the wings. I wished to keep the bird alive, and tame it; but all our efforts to reconcile it to captivity were vain: it refused food, bit every one who went near it, and damaged its plumage in its exertions to free itself. My friends in Aveyros said that this kind of parrot never became domesticated. After trying nearly a week, I was recommended to lend the intractable creature to an old Indian woman living in the village, who was said to be a skilful bird-tamer. In two days, she brought it back almost as tame as the familiar love-birds of our aviaries. I kept my little pet for upward of two years. It learned to talk pretty well, and was considered quite a wonder, as being a bird usually so difficult of domestication. I do not know what arts the old woman used. Capt. Antonio said she fed it with her saliva.
"Our maracaná used to accompany us sometimes in our rambles, one of the lads carrying it on his head. One day, in the middle of a long forest-road, it was missed, having clung probably to an overhanging bough, and escaped into the thicket without the boy perceiving it. Three hours afterwards, on our return by the same path, a voice greeted us in a colloquial tone as we passed, 'Maracaná!' We looked about for some time, but could not see any thing, until the word was repeated with emphasis, 'Maracaná!' when we espied the little truant half concealed in the foliage of a tree. He came down, and delivered himself up, evidently as much rejoiced at the meeting as we were."
TURTLE-EGGS AND OIL.
"I accompanied Cardozo in many wanderings on the Solimoens, or Upper Amazons, during which we visited the praias (sand-islands), the turtle-pools in the forests, and the by-streams and lakes in the great desert river. His object was mainly to superintend the business of digging up turtle-eggs on the sand-banks; having been elected commandante for the year of the praia-real (royal sand-island) of Shimuni, the one lying nearest to Ega. There are four of these royal praias within the district, all of which are visited annually by the Ega people, for the purpose of collecting eggs, and extracting oil from their yolks. Each has its commander, whose business is to make arrangements for securing to every inhabitant an equal chance in the egg-harvest, by placing sentinels to protect the turtles while laying. The turtles descend from the interior pools to the main river in July and August, before the outlets dry up, and then seek, in countless swarms, their favorite sand-islands; for it is only a few praias that are selected by them out of the great number existing.
"We left Ega, on our first trip to visit the sentinels while the turtles were yet laying, on the 26th of September. We found the two sentinels lodged in a corner of the praia, or sand-bank, where it commences, at the foot of the towering forest-wall of the island; having built for themselves a little rancho with poles and palm-leaves. Great preparations are obliged to be taken to avoid disturbing the sensitive turtles, who, previous to crawling ashore to lay, assemble in great shoals off the sand-bank. The men, during this time, take care not to show themselves, and warn off any fisherman who wishes to pass near the place. Their fires are made in a deep hollow near the borders of the forest, so that the smoke may not be visible. The passage of a boat through the shallow waters where the animals are congregated, or the sight of a man, or a fire on the sand-bank, would prevent the turtles from leaving the water that night to lay their eggs; and, if the causes of alarm were repeated once or twice, they would forsake the praia for some quieter place. Soon after we arrived, our men were sent with the net to catch a supply of fish for supper. In half an hour, four or five large basketsful were brought in. The sun set soon after our meal was cooked: we were then obliged to extinguish the fire, and remove our supper-materials to the sleeping-ground, a spit of land about a mile off; this course being necessary on account of the musquitoes, which swarm at night on the borders of the forest.
"I rose from my hammock at daylight, and found Cardozo and the men already up, watching the turtles. The sentinels had erected for this purpose a stage about fifty feet high, on a tall tree near their station, the ascent to which was by a roughly-made ladder of woody lianas. The turtles lay their eggs by night, leaving the water in vast crowds, and crawling to the central and highest part of the praia. These places are, of course, the last to go under water, when, in unusually wet seasons, the river rises before the eggs are hatched by the heat of the sand. One would almost believe from this that the animals used forethought in choosing a place; but it is simply one of those many instances in animals where unconscious habit has the same result as conscious prevision. The hours between midnight and dawn are the busiest. The turtles excavate, with their broad-webbed paws, deep holes in the fine sand; the first-comer, in each case, making a pit about three feet deep, laying, its eggs (about a hundred and twenty in number), and covering them with sand; the next making its deposit at the top of that of its predecessor; and so on, until every pit is full. The whole body of turtles frequenting a praia does not finish laying in less than fourteen or fifteen days, even when there is no interruption. When all have done, the area over which they have excavated is distinguishable from the rest of the praia only by signs of the sand having been a little disturbed.
"On arriving at the edge of the forest, I mounted the sentinels' stage just in time to see the turtles retreating to the water on the opposite side of the sand-bank after having laid their eggs. The sight was well worth the trouble of ascending the shaky ladder. They were about a mile off; but the surface of the sand was blackened with the multitudes which were waddling towards the river. The margin of the praia was rather steep; and they all seemed to tumble, head-first, down the declivity, into the water."
When the turtles have finished depositing their eggs, the process of collecting them takes place, of which our author gives an account as follows:—