For the first few miles two species predominated—as they had almost all the way from Georgetown—the Little Yellow-headed[154] and the Red-breasted Blackbirds.[155] Few more beautiful sights can be imagined than a cloud of these birds rising ahead of the train or launch, and scattering far and wide over and through the reeds. The general color of both is a rich black, which itself contrasts strongly with the green of the savanna. But when we add to this the brilliant yellow head and neck of the former and the scarlet throats, breasts and wing edges of the latter, the color scheme is one which is never forgotten. The two species would rise in distinct flocks, perhaps six or eight hundred of each, flow up and over the tall grass in two living waves of scarlet and gold, and then intermingle, the rain of red and yellow sparks being gradually quenched by the green expanse, as the birds settled among the shelter of the reeds. Of course these flocks were composed only of those individuals close to the track or the river bank. How many myriads were scattered over the savanna we shall never know. We must have flushed a great many thousand of these two species in the course of the day, and scattered among them were a few Guiana Meadow larks[157] looking much like our northern birds. Every few dozen yards over the savanna, a tall white figure stood motionless, silently watching us—American Egrets[32] distributed for their day’s fishing, hundreds dotting the marsh, each solitary, statuesque. Among them was a sprinkling of Wood Ibises[28] and beautiful Cocoi Herons.[31] These latter were much shyer than the others and all within a hundred yards of us would take to flight as we passed, leaving their more fearless comrade-fishers in full possession. All these Herons soon became a common sight, and we swept mile after mile of savanna with our glasses, seeing nothing but the white birds dotted everywhere. At last we were rewarded, and a giant white Stork came into sight, towering above the Herons, with black head and neck, and the sun reflected from the distended scarlet skin of the lower neck. The bill had the faintest of tilts upward and we knew we were looking for the first time at a living Jabiru,[30] the biggest and perhaps the rarest wading bird of our continent. It stands fully five feet in height and the spread of the wings is about eight feet. Soon another appeared a half mile farther on, and a third, and before our journey’s end we had seen at least a dozen of these splendid birds. We have but one or two meagre descriptions of its nesting and I therefore have included among the illustrations a most interesting one taken by Dr. Bingham, showing a Jabiru on its nest together with its two half-grown young. These birds do not nest on the Guiana savanna but retire at the rainy season far into the interior. [Illustration: FIG. 144. NEST AND YOUNG OF JABIRU. (Photo by Bingham.)]