The only monkeys I observed at Cameta were the Couxio (_Pithecia satanas_), a large species, clothed with long brownish black hair, and the tiny _Midas argentatus_. The Couxio has a thick bushy tail; the hair of the head sits on it like a cap, and looks as if it had been carefully combed. It inhabits only the most retired parts of the forest, on the terra firma, and I observed nothing of its habits. The little _Midas argentatus_ is one of the rarest of the American monkeys. I have not heard of its being found anywhere except near Cameta. I once saw three individuals together running along a branch in a cacao grove near Cameta; they looked like white kittens: in their motions they resembled precisely the _Midas ursulus_ already described. I saw afterwards a pet animal of this species, and heard that there were many so kept, and that they were esteemed as choice treasures. The one I saw was full grown, but it measured only seven inches in length of body. It was covered with long white, silky hairs, the tail was blackish, and the face nearly naked and flesh-colored. It was a most timid and sensitive little thing. The woman who owned it carried it constantly in her bosom, and no money would induce her to part with her pet. She called it Mico. It fed from her mouth and allowed her to fondle it freely, but the nervous little creature would not permit strangers to touch it. If any one attempted to do so it shrank back, the whole body trembling with fear, and its teeth chattered, while it uttered its tremulous frightened tones. The expression of its features was like that of its more robust brother _Midas ursulus_; the eyes, which were black, were full of curiosity and mistrust, and it always kept them fixed on the person who attempted to advance towards it. In the orange groves and other parts humming-birds were plentiful, but I did not notice more than three species. I saw a little pigmy belonging to the genus Phaethornis one day in the act of washing itself in a brook. It was perched on a thin branch, whose end was under water. It dipped itself, then fluttered its wings and pruned its feathers, and seemed thoroughly to enjoy itself alone in the shady nook which it had chosen,--a place overshadowed by broad leaves of ferns and Heliconiae. I thought as I watched it that there was no need for poets to invent elves and gnomes while nature furnishes us with such marvellous little sprites ready to hand. THE MONARCHS OF THE ANDES. JAMES ORTON.