155. (D) Female Hoatzin crouching to avoid Observation 373 156. (E) Female Hoatzin taking flight, with wings fully spread; a second pair of birds leaving their nest in the background 375 157. Flock of Eleven Hoatzins 377 158. Crocodiles on a South American River Bank 380 159. Lagoon between Abary Island and River 382 160. Young Spur-winged Jacana 384 PART I OUR FIRST SEARCH VENEZUELA [Illustration: FIG. 1. MAP OF NORTHEASTERN VENEZUELA] CHAPTER I. THE LAND OF A SINGLE TREE. One day late in March, just as the tropical sun was sinking from view, our barefooted Spanish crew pulled up anchor from the muddy bottom of Port of Spain’s harbor. Slowly the sails filled, and the spray began to fly from the bow as we steered straight into the crimson path of the sunset. Behind us the lofty Trinidad ranges glowed softly; great velvety peaks and ridges, purpled by distance, gilded by the last rays of day. Then the twilight passed swiftly as if the sun had been quenched by the waters which covered its face; the mountains became merged into the darkness of the sky, and the city of busy life behind us melted into a linear constellation of twinkling lights. We had chartered a little sloop of twenty-one tons, the “Josefa Jacinta” (_Ho-say’fah Hah-seen’tah_) manned by a captain, a cook and a crew of three. At her masthead flew the flag of Venezuela. With a month’s provisions in the hold and all the varied paraphernalia of a naturalist, we were headed for the northern part of the Orinoco delta in search of the primitive wilderness of which we had dreamed. Jamaica, Colon, Savanilla, La Guayra had passed in quick succession, and we were surprised to find Trinidad the most modern and wide-awake of all. The well-appointed hotels, the trolleys, electric lights, museums, and newspapers of Port of Spain, the wireless station even now flashing its aërial messages from yonder peak,—all boded ill for our search for primeval conditions. Was there no spot left on earth, we wondered, which could truthfully be called an untrodden wilderness!—jungles untouched by axe or fire, where guns had not replaced bows and arrows; where the creatures of the wilderness were tame through unfamiliarity with human beings! * * * * * The Southern Cross rose and straightened its arms; the Pole Star hung low in the north. As the night wore on, an ugly sea arose and half buried our little craft in foam and spray. A cross-wind disputed our advance and the strong tide drove us out of our course. But our captain had navigated these waters for more than half a century, and we had no fears.