it appeared common on several of the islets, but the Chilotans at Low's
Harbour said that it was not found in all. What a succession of
chances, [3] or what changes of level must have been brought into play,
thus to spread these small animals throughout this broken archipelago!
In all parts of Chiloe and Chonos, two very strange birds occur, which
are allied to, and replace, the Turco and Tapacolo of central Chile.
One is called by the inhabitants "Cheucau" (Pteroptochos rubecula): it
frequents the most gloomy and retired spots within the damp forests.
Sometimes, although its cry may be heard close at hand, let a person
watch ever so attentively he will not see the cheucau; at other times,
let him stand motionless and the red-breasted little bird will approach
within a few feet in the most familiar manner. It then busily hops
about the entangled mass of rotting cones and branches, with its little
tail cocked upwards. The cheucau is held in superstitious fear by the
Chilotans, on account of its strange and varied cries. There are three
very distinct cries: One is called "chiduco," and is an omen of good;
another, "huitreu," which is extremely unfavourable; and a third, which
I have forgotten. These words are given in imitation of the noises;
and the natives are in some things absolutely governed by them. The
Chilotans assuredly have chosen a most comical little creature for
their prophet. An allied species, but rather larger, is called by the
natives "Guid-guid" (Pteroptochos Tarnii), and by the English the
barking-bird. This latter name is well given; for I defy any one at
first to feel certain that a small dog is not yelping somewhere in the
forest. Just as with the cheucau, a person will sometimes hear the
bark close by, but in vain many endeavour by watching, and with still
less chance by beating the bushes, to see the bird; yet at other times
the guid-guid fearlessly comes near. Its manner of feeding and its
general habits are very similar to those of the cheucau.
On the coast, [4] a small dusky-coloured bird (Opetiorhynchus
Patagonicus) is very common. It is remarkable from its quiet habits;
it lives entirely on the sea-beach, like a sandpiper. Besides these
birds only few others inhabit this broken land. In my rough notes I
describe the strange noises, which, although frequently heard within
these gloomy forests, yet scarcely disturb the general silence. The
yelping of the guid-guid, and the sudden whew-whew of the cheucau,
sometimes come from afar off, and sometimes from close at hand; the
little black wren of Tierra del Fuego occasionally adds its cry; the
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