We found the upper limit of a subtropical fauna at Incachaca. Bird-flocks travelled hurriedly through the trees; they were composed of bright-colored tanagers, finches, and cotingas. Honey-creepers and hummers were plentiful in the flowering shrubs. Queer little ducks called merganettas disported in the pool below the falls, and dippers ran nimbly along the edge of the water. In one of the tall trees near the river we discovered the nest of an eagle. We found it impossible to climb the tree, but a German named Ricardo Marquardt, who was in charge of the workmen along the river, succeeded in reaching the huge mass of sticks seventy feet above the ground, and brought down a beautifully spotted egg. To my companion, Mr. Howarth S. Boyle, who accompanied me on the entire trip, belongs the credit of taking the rarest birds from this locality; they were a pair of white-eared thrushes (_Entomodestes_), which, so far as I can learn, exist in only two other museums. Among the lower growth lived many ant-thrushes (_Grallaria_), whose clear call could be heard at all hours of the day. This is one of the hardest of all birds to collect. The long-legged, tailless songsters never leave the thick growth of ferns and brush, and the only way to secure them is to enter the dense cover, sit quietly, and imitate the clear, ringing call in the hope of attracting the birds; sometimes this requires hours of patient work, and more often than not the effort is futile.
Coatimondis, or raccoons, roamed in the woods in small bands, sniffing in the damp mould and searching for insects; while feeding they uttered deep grunts, but when frightened they gave a succession of rapid bird-like chirps. These animals spend a good deal of their time in the trees, but are almost invariably found on the ground in the daytime; when pursued they are very pugnacious and it takes an exceptionally agile dog indeed to avoid being severely torn by the sharp teeth and claws. In captivity they become very tame, and make nice little pets, although their mischievous disposition often gets them into trouble.
From Incachaca to Locotál is a distance of only eight miles, but the scenery along a part of the route is as impressive as any to be found in the entire Andean chain; perhaps the gorge of the Urubamba, in Peru, alone equals it in grandeur and awe-inspiring magnificence. The bare, shattered, and split crags reach many hundred feet above the trail, and stand in a leaning position so that the tops actually hang over the narrow passageway as if threatening to topple over at any moment; below, the steep slope is covered with huge boulders which have fallen from the towering masses above.
