Occasionally the long, clear cry of the venteveo, a lemon-coloured
bird with black head and long beak like a kingfisher, rang through the
foliage; or a flock of pecho amarillos, olive-brown birds with bright
yellow vests, would visit the trees and utter their confused chorus
of gay notes.
I did not think very much about Santa Coloma. Probably he had escaped,
and was once more a wanderer disguised in the humble garments of a
peasant; but that would be no new experience to him. The bitter bread
of expatriation had apparently been his usual food, and his periodical
descents upon the country had so far always ended in disaster: he had
still an object to live for. But when I remembered Dolores lamenting
her lost cause and vanished peace of mind, then, in spite of the bright
sunshine flecking the grass, the soft, warm wind fanning my face
andwhispering in the foliage overhead, and the merry-throated birds that
came to visit me, a pang was in my heart, and tears came to my eyes.
When evening came we were all wide awake, and sat till a very late
hour round the fire we had made in the hollow, sipping _mate_ and
conversing. We were all in a talkative mood that evening, and after
the ordinary subjects of Banda Oriental conversation had been exhausted,
we drifted into matters extraordinary--wild creatures of strange
appearance and habits, apparitions, and marvellous adventures.
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