t at the fresh beauties of
the river where it wound off to the right. Birds innumerable were
flitting about, chirping and singing; noisy parrots were climbing and
hanging head downwards as they hunted out a berry-like fruit from a tall
tree; and toucans, with orange-and-scarlet breasts and huge bills,
hopped about, uttering their discordant cries. Everything looked so
beautiful and peaceful that for the moment he forgot the dangerous
occupants of the river, and his eyes grew dim with the strange sense of
joy that came over him that glorious morning. But the next moment he
became aware of the fact that to all this beauty and brightness there
was a terrible reverse side. For suddenly a great falcon dashed with
swift wing high up along the course of the river, and cries of fear,
warning, and alarm rang out from the small birds, the minute before
happy and contentedly seeking their food.

The change was magical. At the first cry, all dropped down
helter-skelter beneath the boughs and leaves, seeking shelter; and as
the falcon gave a harsh scream it was over groves that had suddenly
become deserted, not a tenant being visible, except some half-dozen
humming-birds, whose safety lay in their tiny size and wonderful powers
of flight. Three of these, instead of showing fear, became immediately
aggressive, and, darting like great flies at the falcon, flashed about
it in different directions, apparently acting in concert and pestering
the great bird, so that it winged its way over the great wall of trees
and was gone.

But almost at the same moment a vulture appeared, with its hideous naked
head and neck outstretched, making the humming-birds ruffle up again and
resume their attack till they literally drove the great intruder away.

"What daring little things they are!" said Rob, who was watching the
tiny bird gems with keen delight, while Brazier's admiration was as much
taken up by the clusters of blossoms hanging from a branch over the
water.

"I shall be obliged to have those, Rob," he said, pointing to the
orchids. "Do you think you could get out along that bough if the boat
were run in to the bank?"

"Yes," said the boy; "but suppose I drop into the river! What then?"

"We would keep the boat under you."

"Can't be done," growled Shaddy, who had been trying to force the boat
back to their little camp by paddling with one oar over the stern.
"'Bliged to ask you, gentlemen, to take an oar apiece. Stream runs