its roaring.  So Martin wisely let the parrots alone.  They also startled, in passing through swampy places, several large blue herons, and long-legged cranes; and on many of the trees they observed the curious hanging nests of a bird, which the hermit told them was the large oriole.  These nests hung in long strings from the tops of the palm-trees, and the birds were very actively employed moving about and chattering round their swinging villages:  on seeing which Martin could not help remarking that it would astonish the colony not a little, if the top house were to give way and let all the mansions below come tumbling to the ground!

They were disappointed, however, in not seeing monkeys gambolling among the trees, as they had expected.

“Ah! my friends,” said the hermit, “travellers in my country are very often disappointed.  They come here expecting to see everything all at once; but although there are jaguars, and serpents, and bears, and monkeys, plenty of them, as your ears can tell you, these creatures keep out of the sight of man as much as possible.  They won’t come out of the woods and show themselves to please travellers!  You have been very lucky since you arrived.  Many travellers go about for months together and do not see half so much as you.”

“That’s thrue,” observed Barney, with his head a little on one side, and his eyes cast up in a sort of meditative frown, as if he were engaged in subjecting the hermit’s remarks to a process of severe philosophical contemplation; “but I would be very well plazed av the wild bastes would show themselves now and then, for—­”

Martin Rattler burst into a loud laugh, for Barney’s upward glance of contemplation was suddenly transformed into a gaze of intense astonishment, as he beheld the blue countenance of a large red monkey staring down upon him from amid the branches of an overhanging tree.  The monkey’s face expressed, if possible, greater surprise than that of the Irishman, and its mouth was partially open and thrust forward in a sort of threatening and inquiring manner.  There seemed to be some bond of sympathy between the monkey and the man, for while its mouth opened his mouth opened too.

“A-a-a-a-a—­ah!” exclaimed the monkey.

A facetious smile overspread Barney’s face—­“Och! be all manes; the same to you, kindly,” said he, taking off his hat and making a low bow.

The civility did not seem to be appreciated, however; for the monkey put on a most indignant frown and displayed a terrific double-row of long brilliant teeth and red gums, while it uttered a shriek of passion, twisted its long tail round a branch, and hurled itself, with a motion more like that of a bird than a beast, into the midst of the tree and disappeared, leaving Martin and Barney and the hermit each with a very broad grin on his countenance.