w; his attempt at song is not worth
attending to.

Wherever there is a wild fig-tree ripe, a numerous species of birds,
called tangara, is sure to be on it. There are eighteen beautiful
species here. Their plumage is very rich and diversified; some of them
boast six separate colours; others have the blue, purple, green, and
black so kindly blended into each other, that it would be impossible to
mark their boundaries; while others again exhibit them strong, distinct,
and abrupt: many of these tangaras have a fine song. They seem to
partake much of the nature of our linnets, sparrows, and finches. Some
of them are fond of the plantations; others are never seen there,
preferring the wild seeds of the forest to the choicest fruits planted by
the hand of man.

On the same fig-trees to which they repair, and often accidentally up and
down the forest, you fall in with four species of manikin. The largest
is white and black, with the feathers on the throat remarkably long; the
next in size is half red and half black; the third, black, with a white
crown; the fourth, black, with a golden crown, and red feathers at the
knee. The half red and half black species is the scarcest. There is a
creek in the Demerara called Camouni. About ten minutes from the mouth,
you see a common-sized fig-tree on your right-hand, as you ascend,
hanging over water; it bears a very small fig twice a year. When its
fruit is ripe, this manikin is on the tree from morn till eve.

On all the ripe fig-trees in the forest you see the bird called the small
tiger-bird. Like some of our belles and dandies, it has a gaudy vest to
veil an ill-shaped body: the throat, and part of the head, are a bright
red; the breast and belly have black spots on a yellow ground; the wings
are a dark green, black, and white; and the rump and tail black and
green. Like the manikin, it has no song: it depends solely upon a showy
garment for admiration.

Devoid, too, of song, and in a still superber garb, the yawaraciri comes
to feed on the same tree. It has a bar like black velvet from the eyes
to the beak; its legs are yellow; its throat, wings, and tail black; all
the rest of the body a charming blue. Chiefly in the dry savannas, and
here and there accidentally in the forest, you see a songless yawaraciri
still lovelier than the last: his crown is whitish blue, arrayed like a
coat of mail; his tail is black, his wings black and yellow, legs red,
and the whole bod