He had to make names for them. The strangest thing he saw on
his journey was the nest of what he called the yellow-tail. This bird
lives in colonies and makes its nest at the ends of the long leaves
of the mountain palm. When he first saw these queer looking sacks hanging
from the leaves he was amazed. He had never seen so strange a sight.
From the end of each great leaf hung a long, closely woven nest.
Robinson could not make out at first what they were. Soon, however,
he saw the birds come out of the mouths of the nests. Here, one hundred
feet from the ground, they hung their nests. But they were perfectly
safe.
He had not gone far from the tree in which the yellow tails had their
nests when he was suddenly startled by a voice crying, "Who, who are
you?" Robinson was greatly frightened and hid beneath the drooping
branches of a cedar tree. He feared every moment that the owner of
the voice would make his appearance. But it kept at a distance. Every
few minutes from the depths of the forest would come the doleful cry,
"Who, who are you?" Robinson did not dare to stir from his hiding
place. He remained there over night. After the night came on he heard
the strange voice no more.
The next day he renewed his journey. He saw many birds that were
wholly strange to him. There was a kind of wild pigeon that built its
home in a hole in the rock. It was a most beautiful bird with long,
slender, graceful feathers in its tail.
Pages:
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61