nor grouse; but in their
place abound the Mutun, the Jacu, the Jacami, and the Unicorn (Crax,
Penelope, Psophia, and Palamedea), all of which are so remote from the
gallinaceous types found farther north, that they remind one quite as
much of the bustard, and other ostrich-like birds, as of the hen and
pheasant. They differ also from Northern gallinaceous birds in the
greater uniformity of the sexes, none of them exhibiting those striking
differences between the males and females which we see in the pheasants,
the cocks of the woods, and in our barn-yard fowls. While birds abounded
in such numbers, insects were rather scarce. I saw but few and small
butterflies, and beetles were still more rare. The most numerous insects
were the dragon-flies,--some with crimson bodies, black heads, and
burnished wings,--others with large green bodies, crossed by blue bands.
Of land shells I saw but one creeping along the reeds; and of water
shells I gathered only a few small Ampullariae.

Having ascended the river to a point nearly on a line with the serra, I
landed, and struck across the Campos on foot. Here I entered upon an
entirely different region,--a dry, open plain, with scanty vegetation.
The most prominent plants were clusters of cactus and curua palms, a
kind of stemless, low palm, with broad, elegant leaves springing
vase-like from the ground. In these dry, sandy fields, rising gradually
toward the serra, I observed in the deeper gullies formed by the heavy
rains the laminated clays which are everywhere the foundation of the
Amazonian strata. They here presented again so much the character of
ordinary clay slates, that I thought I had at last come upon some old
geological formation. Instead of this I only obtained fresh evidence
that, by baking them, the burning sun of the tropics may produce upon
laminated clays of recent origin the same effect as plutonic agents have
produced upon the ancient clays, that is, it may change them into
metamorphic slates. As I approached the serra, I was again reminded how,
under the most dissimilar circumstances, similar features recur
everywhere in nature. I came suddenly upon a little creek, bordered with
the usual vegetation of such shallow water-courses, and on its brink
stood a sand-piper, which flew away at my approach, uttering its
peculiar cry, so like what one hears at home that, had I not seen him, I
should have recognized him by his voice.

After an hour's walk under the scorchin