d;
the breast, reddish-black; the wings, brown. He has no song, is
solitary, and utters a monotonous whistle which sounds like "quet." He
is fond of the seeds of the hitia-tree, and those of the siloabali and
bastard-siloabali trees, which ripen in December, and continue on the
trees for about two months. He is found throughout the year in Demerara;
still nothing is known of his incubation. The Indians all agree in
telling you that they have never seen his nest.

The purple-breasted cotinga has the throat and breast of a deep purple,
the wings and tail black, and all the rest of the body a most lively
shining blue.

The purple-throated cotinga has black wings and tail, and every other
part a light and glossy blue, save the throat, which is purple.

The pompadour cotinga is entirely purple, except his wings, which are
white, their four first feathers tipped with brown. The great coverts of
the wings are stiff, narrow, and pointed, being shaped quite different
from those of any other bird. When you are betwixt this bird and the sun
in his flight, he appears uncommonly brilliant. He makes a hoarse noise,
which sounds like "wallababa." Hence his name amongst the Indians.

None of these three cotingas have a song. They feed on the hitia,
siloabali, and bastard-siloabali seeds, the wild guava, the fig, and
other fruit trees of the forest. They are easily shot in these trees
during the months of December, January, and part of February. The
greater part of them disappear after this, and probably retire far away
to breed. Their nests have never been found in Demerara.

The fifth species is the celebrated campanero of the Spaniards, called
dara by the Indians and bell-bird by the English. He is about the size
of the jay. His plumage is white as snow. On his forehead rises a
spiral tube nearly three inches long. It is jet-black, dotted all over
with small white feathers. It has a communication with the palate, and
when filled with air, looks like a spire; when empty, it becomes
pendulous. His note is loud and clear, like the sound of a bell, and may
be heard at the distance of three miles. In the midst of these extensive
wilds, generally on the dried top of an aged mora, almost out of gun
reach, you will see the campanero. No sound or song from any of the
winged inhabitants of the forest, not even the clearly-pronounced
"Whip-poor-Will," from the goatsucker, causes such astonishment as the
toll of the camp