Presently this flow of exquisite unfamiliar music ceased, while I still remained standing amongst the trees, not daring to move for fear of scaring away the strange vocalist. After a short interval of silence I had a fresh surprise. From the very spot whence that torrent of melody had issued, burst out the shrill, confused, impetuous song of the small yellow-and-grey Patagonian Flycatcher (_Stigmatura flavo-cinerea_). It irritated me to hear this familiar and trivial song after the other, and I began to fear that my entertainer had flown away unobserved. But in another moment, from the same spot, came the mellow matin-song of the Diuca Finch, and this was quickly succeeded by the silvery bell-like trilling song of the Churinche, or little Scarlet Tyrant-bird. Then followed many other familiar notes and songs--the flute-like evening-call of the Crested Tinamou, the gay hurried twittering of the Black-headed Goldfinch, and the leisurely-uttered, delicious strains of the Yellow Cardinal, all repeated with miraculous fidelity. How much was my wonder and admiration increased by the discovery that my one sweet singer had produced all these diverse strains! The discovery was only made when he began to repeat songs of species that never visit Patagonia. I knew then that I was at last listening to the famed White Mocking-bird, just returned from his winter travels, and repeating in this southern region the notes he had acquired in subtropical forests a thousand miles away. These imitations at length ceased, after which the sweet vocalist resumed his own matchless song once more. I ventured then to creep a little nearer, and at length caught sight of him not fifteen yards away. I then found that the pleasure of listening to its melody was greatly enhanced when I could at the same time see the bird, so carried away with rapture does he seem while singing, so many and so beautiful are the gestures and motions with which his notes are accompanied. He passes incessantly from bush to bush, scarcely alighting on their summits, and at times dropping down beneath the foliage; then, at intervals, soaring to a height of a hundred feet above the thicket, with a flight slow as that of a Heron, or mounting suddenly upwards with a wild, hurried, zigzag motion; then slowly circling downwards, to sit with tail outspread and the broad glistening white wings expanded, or languidly waved up and down like the wings of some great butterfly--an object beautiful to see.