various ways in which hearers are
affected by it. To some its
warbling is like the sound of a beautiful
mysterious instrument,
while to others it seems like the singing of a blithe-hearted
child with a highly melodious voice. I had often heard and
listened with delight to the singing of the rialejo in the
Guayana forests, but this song, or
musicalphrase, was utterly
unlike it in
character. It was pure, more
expressive, softer--so
low that at a distance of forty yards I could hardly have heard
it. But its greatest charm was its
resemblance to the human
voice--a voice purified and brightened to something almost
angelic.ne, then, my
impatience as I sat there straining my
sense, my deep
disappointment when it was not
repeated! I rose
at length very
reluctantly and slowly began making my way back;
but when I had progressed about thirty yards, again the sweet
voice sounded just behind me, and turning quickly, I stood still
and waited. The same voice, but not the same song--not the same
phrase; the notes were different, more
varied and rapidly
enunciated, as if the
singer had been more excited. The blood
rushed to my heart as I listened; my nerves tingled with a
strange new delight, the
rapture produced by such music
heightened by a sense of
mystery. Before many moments I heard it
again, not rapid now, but a soft warbling, lower than at first,
infinitely sweet and tender, sinking to lisping sounds that soon
ceased to be
audible; the whole having lasted as long as it would
take me to repeat a
sentence of a dozen words. This seemed the
singer's
farewell to me, for I waited and listened in vain to
hear it
repeated; and after getting back to the starting-point I
sat for
upwards of an hour, still hoping to hear it once more!
The weltering sun at length compelled me to quit the wood, but
not before I had
resolved to return the next morning and seek for
the spot where I had met with so enchanting an experience. After
crossing the
sterile belt I have mentioned within the wood, and
just before I came to the open outer edge where the stunted trees
and bushes die away on the border of the savannah, what was my
delight and
astonishment at
hearing the
mysteriousmelody once
more! It seemed to issue from a clump of bushes close by; but by
this time I had come to the
conclusion that there was a
ventriloquism in this
woodland voice which made it impossible for
me to determine its exact direction. Of one thing I was,
however, now quite convinced, and that was that the
singer had
been following me all the time. Again and again as I stood there
listening it sounded, now so faint and
apparently far off as to
be scarcely
audible; then all at once it would ring out bright
and clear within a few yards of me, as if the shy little thing
had suddenly grown bold; but, far or near, the vocalist remained
invisible, and at length the tantalizing
melody ceased
altogether.
CHAPTER III
I was not disappointed on my next visit to the forest, nor on
several succeeding visits; and this seemed to show that if I was
right in believing that these strange, melodious utterances
proceeded from one individual, then the bird or being, although
still refusing to show itself, was always on the watch for my
appearance and followed me
wherever I went. This thought only
served to increase my
curiosity; I was
constantly pondering over
the subject, and at last concluded that it would be best to
induce one of the Indians to go with me to the wood on the chance
of his being able to explain the
mystery.
One of the treasures I had managed to
preserve in my
sojourn with
these children of nature, who were always
anxious to become
possessors of my
belongings, was a small prettily fashioned metal
match-box,
opening with a spring. Remembering that Kua-ko, among