est. We tried to
ascertain from our young companion what it could mean, but he only
nodded his head, as much as to say, "I know all about it," and then he
gave a glance down at his bow and quiver which lay by his side. We went
on for some minutes more, the sound of the bell reaching our ears as
before, and then Duppo began to look up eagerly into the trees.
Suddenly he ceased paddling, and made signs to Arthur to do the same.
Gliding on a few yards further, we saw, on the topmost bough of a tree
overhanging the water, a beautiful white bird, about the size of a jay.
At the same time there came forth from where it stood a clear bell
sound, and we saw from its head a black tube, rising up several inches
above it. Duppo cautiously put his hand out and seized his bow. In an
instant he had fitted an arrow to the string. Away it flew, and down
fell the bird fluttering in the water. We paddled on, and quickly had
it on board. I could not help feeling sorry that he had killed the
beautiful creature, whose note had so astonished us.

It was, I found, a specimen of that somewhat rare and very wonderful
bell-bird (_Casmarhynchos carunculata_), called _campanero_ by the
Spaniards. From the upper part of the bill grows a fleshy tubercle
about the thickness of a quill, sparingly covered with minute feathers.
It was now hanging down on one side, quite lax. It was evident,
therefore, that the bird, when alive, elevated it when excited by
singing or some other cause; indeed afterwards, on examining it, we
found it connected with the interior of the throat, which further
convinced us of this fact. I was sorry that we could not have it taken
alive to Ellen, and I tried to explain to Duppo that we wished to have
living creatures if possible captured, like the umbrella-bird.

We had been paddling on for some time beneath the thick overhanging
boughs, almost in darkness, when a bright glow attracted our attention.
"We must be near the camp," exclaimed Arthur, and we shouted out. We
were replied to by True's well-known bark, and directly afterwards we
could distinguish through the gloom the figure of Domingos making his
way amid the wood, with True running before him, down to the bank.
There they stood ready to receive us.

CHAPTER NINE.

LOST IN THE FOREST.

"I am thankful to have you back, my young masters," exclaimed Domingos,
as he helped us to land. "But what! have you not brought back the
canoe? I thought it was h