. Our search for a wilderness; an account of two ornithological expeditions to Venezuela and to British Guiana . e weresettled, and as we finally dropped asleep a score of fiercelittle demon faces were squeaking and gibbering at us. At six oclock the following morning we were awakenedby a dozen Little naked Indian boys flitting silently about,peering at us like tiny copper elves, or like human incarnationsof the bats which had hovered about us during the outdoors in the dusk we heard a perfect medley ofbird notes, Wrens, Thrushes, Tanagers, Seedeaters, all givingVoice at once, whil
. Our search for a wilderness; an account of two ornithological expeditions to Venezuela and to British Guiana . e weresettled, and as we finally dropped asleep a score of fiercelittle demon faces were squeaking and gibbering at us. At six oclock the following morning we were awakenedby a dozen Little naked Indian boys flitting silently about,peering at us like tiny copper elves, or like human incarnationsof the bats which had hovered about us during the outdoors in the dusk we heard a perfect medley ofbird notes, Wrens, Thrushes, Tanagers, Seedeaters, all givingVoice at once, while from the farther end of the cocoanut walkcame a chorus from a colony of Yellow-backed saw the mission cat teasing something and look from her 228 OUR SEARCH FOR A WILDERNESS. a tiny oppossum with fur of richest brown, and no largerthan a mouse. The little creature was unhurt, but playedpossum until it recovered from its fear when it made itself athome in a small suitcase. When our jolly priest appeared to wish us good-morning,the little Indian lads bowed their bronze figures reverently and. kissed his hand. Sonic of them busied themselves weavinga hammock, while others set the table and later served us atbreakfast. Our priest was like the genial monk of a mediae-val story. He was delightful with his tribe of small Indianboys, ordering them about in a great voice but with his eyesbeaming with affection for them. Man alive! he wouldshout, bring the finger-bowls! And to our amazement,the wee naked valet not only knew what finger-bowls were, THROUGH THE COASTAL WILDERNESS. 229 but actually produced them, passing them around the tablewith colossal dignity. That mans a linguist, the Father added; he speaksEnglish, Spanish and several Indian dialects. The good Fathers heart was overflowing with kindnesstoward every living thing. He could not even bear to seehis cat waiting hungrily for her breakfast, but ordered hissmall butler at once to give her some milk. We wonde
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