Birding Outback Guyana: The Acari Mountains

Our 1999 trip to Gunn's Strip was certain to be followed by others. In April 2001, Jennifer, Ron Branson, Davis Finch led by Duane and the Dadanawa crew undertook a walk from Cuyuwini Landing to the Kassikaityu River where they were met by the boats from Rupununi Trails which had retraced our original Cuyiwini to Essequibo trip. They then explored the upper branches of the Kassikaityu River and ultimately returned by plane from Gunn's to Ogle.

After six trips on the major rivers in the South Rupununi District, I had a fair handle on their wildlife. Although we had regularly found birds that were new to Guyana, few new bird or animal species were being added to my life list. I longed for new horizons and had sought them elsewhere, namely, in the Antarctic and California. It was obvious that if Guyana were to offer me new birding environments, I had to look elsewhere. In 2002, Duane Defreitas of Rupununi Trails suggested exploring the higher altitudes in the Kamoa and Acari Mountains.

South of Gunn's Strip the Essequibo River offers easy access to the Kamoa River which flows into the Essequibo from the west just south of Kamoa Mountain. One objective was to run up the Kamoa River to where we could cut a trail due north to climb Kamoa Mountain. South of the union of the Kamoa and Essequibo Rivers the flowage is called the Chodikar River. Flowing into the Chodikar from the west is the Sipu River a major waterway which drains much of the northwestern watershed of the Acari (a' car eye) Mountains. Our second objective was to climb into the Acari Mountains. Rising to about 3500 ft, the height of land on the Acari Mountains is Guyana's southern-most border with Brazil. The rivers and trails were known to three of the Wai-Wai guides, Wachana Yaymocha, Eleazer Mawasha and Aron Maripa. In 1998 they had guided a Smithsonian botanical survey party led by the late David Clarke. Clarke's mountain-top campsite would be both our highest point at 2965 feet and our most southern camp at N 1^o 21.854', W 58^o 56.768'. It turned out to be an exciting new environment with exceptional vistas, towering cliffs, many surprises and more than two dozen bird species new to my Guyana birdlist.

Our party consisted of Jennifer Green, Ron Branson, Davis Finch, Tony Federer and me. We departed the U.S. on November 3rd, 2002. Davis, Tony and I were to join Jennifer and Ron in Barbados on their flight from California. Tony was a good choice and brought to our group the capacity for map-reading of a top class orienteer and the perception of a skilled forestry scientist, both of which he is.

Barbados is best described as a traveler's cul de sac , a country where it seemed, at the time, impossible to automate connecting flight baggage transfer. Thus, here we are required to pass customs, claim our baggage, haul it out of one building and into another a hundred yards away. Not a difficult feat, but time-consuming since the custom agents are January-molasses slow. I timed one and found he required a minimum of four minutes (! ) per traveler. With a line of thirty, it promised to be at least two hours until we reached him. Under these circumstances we sought out the BWIA agent and pleaded since we were not trying to enter Barbados but simply move our bags to the next flight. On every trip we have found BWIA agents to be capable, friendly, alert and willing to find a solution to whatever problem faced us. This trip was no exception and the BWIA agent paved the way. Hopefully, the construction of a new terminal has now addressed the awkward hyphen separating domestic and international travelers. The other bright spot in the depressing Barbados transfer was being met at the air terminal by Mike Wilson, an old Guyanan hand and trusted traveling companion. We spent a happy hour drinking Banks beer with Mike. On boarding the connecting flight to Georgetown we found Jennifer and Ron. Ron, who is a physician, is a few months older than I am. Jennifer refers to him as her "west coast dad".

In contrast to Barbados, the custom formalities in Guyana are brief, professional and tension-free. According to plan we were met at Timehri by Wilderness Explorers representatives, Delise and Rommel, and delivered to the Le Meridian Pegasus. In recent months Guyana has been under siege. Robberies, killings and bank heists have become a central concern in Georgetown. As a consequence the hotel and grounds are patrolled by security and Brown's Cafe, usually an all-night affair, now closes at 11PM. (A law-enforcement campaign was clear the next morning at Ogle Airport with wanted posters prominantly displayed and clearly edited to indicate that four of the six listed were "dead men," presumably expiring in apprehension). We supped at Brown's late and turned in. At 5 AM on November 4th we rose for a brief breakfast. Birding around the hotel was marked by a Merlin that roosted in the territory of a pair of Plain-bellied Emeralds, clearly upsetting them. Merlins are not typical of Guyana according to Davis having been seen only six times previously.

We were driven to Ogle, there, aided by a very pleasant customs agent, we cleared customs easily and were flown in an Islander to Gunn's Strip. The flight of two and a half hours was met by a cadre of old and new friends most of whom would be with us for the next three weeks. At the airstrip were the De Freitas boys, Justin and Duane, Andy Nerin, Nikki (Nick) Persad, Jerry Peters, Asaph Wilson and other members of our party. I did not immediately recognize Duane, Jr since the past two years had seen the loss of his luxurious dreadlocks. All our old friends have grown from kids to capable young men. Justin was as big as Duane, Sr., Nick was virtually unchanged and Andy was a colorful Jastofarian with bracelets and necklaces and beads braided into his hair and rarely without a smile. Absent was Leroy our old comrade, who is now tied to Lethem as the office agent for the Weavers Association--now that traditional weaving has been restored as big business in the art and museum world- a major local crafts triumph.

Our bags were unloaded. We observed the usual courtesy of watching the plane take off before trekking the half mile to the old village, Akhuto. On the way there we paused to bird on the woods road. The last new bird I had identified at Gunn's in 1999 was the first one I found in the nearby woodland trail, a Bronzy Jacamar.

with the exception of Moses's family, the old village of Akhuto was deserted having been moved up river a few miles to higher ground also on the left bank of the river. The move was necessary because a major flood in 2001 had inundated the old village with four feet of water. The new village is called Masekenari. Nevertheless, the old village is usable and there we found Duane, Pip, Pat Rash, our cook, and Cheryl Xavier, her assistant. Pat is a native Missourian, an excellent fly-fisher, the former owner-operator of a fly-fishing shop in Montana/ Colorado, an accomplished cook and raconteur. A good, friendly soul to have around in addition to being the (hopefully unending) source of a supply of Bristol cigarettes which Davis was anticipating from the earliest New England planning stages of this trip. Cheryl, an assistant to Margie on several our previous trips, knows the ropes. She is extremely helpful and diligent in predicting and attending to our needs. Pip and Duane greeted us at the old village site and we settled in our quarters for the next day or so. A plank-walled and floored room was available as well as a hut for the kitchen. Really a classy start!

As usual within the hour, Davis led a bird walk along the trail toward the airstrip. A Pale-bellied Mourner was an immediate life bird for me in this familiar woodland. Tony is in the seventh heaven of being in an environment where virtually every bird is new. In the evening we had a float on the river which was climaxed by finding a Spectacled Owl perched on a dead snag over-hanging the boat landing. The light was poor but Ron, a photograher, accomplished wonders with his strobe flash by lighting up the bird for a millisecond, just long enough to fire sufficient retinal rods and cones to form a decent image of this bird which is much more often heard than seen. Supper was visited by a frog that perched on a shovel handle next to the kitchen. This is a large (3.5 inch), smooth-skinned brown frog with a broad head and bulging eyes.

In the morning (Nov. 5th) we made a brief river drift. About 200 White-eyed Parakeets swirled above the river passing in and out of the mist that clung to the banks of the river and shrouded nearby Akhuto Mountain. While we parked under an overhanging tree searching for a shoreside Black-chinned Antbird, an Amazonian Black Tyrant made an instantaneous cameo appearance and fled forever. After breakfast, we set off across the savanna toward Masekenari. The savanna can be brutally hot at any time of the day but this morning it was very comfortable with a cooling breeze blowing under a light overcast. A Green-tailed Goldenthroat visited the eight foot tall florescences of a grass-like plant. As the trail wended through the savanna along the edge of the forest a new flycatcher for me, Swainson's Flycatcher, was identified in the bordering palms.

After perhaps two miles on the savanna, the trail entered a low woodland and proceeded for another mile through mixed and a higher canopy woodland until crossing a stream just before the new village site. At the savanna edge, these woodlands had at least two pairs of Saffron Crested Tyrant Manakin - at that moment the most southern Guyana record. In the woods, a Ruddy-tailed Flycatcher was a good find as was a Rufous-tailed Flatbill along the forest edge. Both Wedge-billed and Plain-brown Woodcreeper were seen. A pair of Yellow-crowned Tyrannulets were lured in and seen well.

The mystery bird (hereafter, MB) is clearly here. MB is small with a weary, plaintive call. We have tried to get a good look at it off and on for the past four years. Initially, the sound was mis-identified as an alternative vocalization of the White-lored Tyrannulet in the woods along the Kwitaro. Later, Larry Master and Jennifer had a fair look at it about thirty feet up in the Rewa riverside woods, but Davis did not. It is diminutive in size (Tiny Tyrant Manakin sized) and has an exceptionally short tail. Otherwise, it presented no dramatic fieldmarks, or striking color patterns. Lacking both wing bars and a white-browed eye it certainly was not the White-lored Tyrannulet. The bird does respond to its call, but sits quietly in an inconspicuous manner in the mid to high under-canopy after approaching. It is a real mystery since it's voice fits nothing that Davis knows for the region yet clearly it has a large range in what should be the best studied areas, i.e., the river valleys.

Not here today were our two primary target savanna birds, the White-napped Seedeater which was first discovered near this site on our first trip to Gunn's Strip two years earlier, and the Point-tailed Palm Creeper. They are targets for tomorrow's walk on the savanna prior to our boat run up to Koneshen Village.

The next morning (Nov. 6) we spent from 5:30-9:00 in the savanna. On a distant palm spar, a pair of copulating Roadside Hawks performed their homage to reproduction. We had no trouble finding yesterday's missing target species. A strikingly patterned male White-napped Seedeater was called in from a scrap of occasionally flooded mixed palm scrub and deciduous brush, stayed around hunting for an intruder and was seen well. A more reserved and demure female was present briefly. Among other grassland species were Chestnut-bellied Seed-Finch and Blue-black Grassquit. A Black-faced Tanager was seen in a hillside copse. In walks to the higher savanna grounds that had not been cleansed by the flood we were exposed to chiggers which was a problem for those of us who had not sprayed miticides diligently, among them, me. The Point-tailed Palmcreeper remained elusive until we had almost run out of time. Then, at the last possible moriche palm trees on our walk back to the village, the bird responded, perched, and stayed in near perfect light in the open on the top of the nearest palm. This is a very strikingly patterned and handsome bird and the bird seemed to know it!

We had a substantial breakfast, collected our gear outside our cabin, except for Ron (of which more later), loaded the boats and set off for Koneshen. Koneshen is an abandoned village site perhaps 10 miles up river. Until the 1970s Koneshen was a thriving native community. It is surprising to hear that international affairs could be reflected in the migrations of people in such a distant location but the story related to me was that during the "cold war" in 1966, Guyana's socialist leaning led the inhabitants to fear atomic retaliation. As a consequence they reportedly fled to Brazil. It is likely that this explanation is apocryphal since additional issues such as historical affinities , economics, game availability, agricultural opportunities, religious and familial ties certainly influenced both their decision and the direction of their movement. Nevertheless, the region remained with only modest settlement until it was subsequently reoccupied by the Wai-Wai from western Brazil who settled at Akhuto and now at Masekenari.

The Koneshen site (N 1^o 34.016' , W 58^o 40.659') was about three hours upriver on the left bank. The river is greater than 100 ft wide and is often dotted by large boulders and occasional flat ledges. There are several rapids in the river the most significant to be lined around is a mile above Gunn's. The flow was substantial and the passage was easy. At Koneshen, several flat rocks proved suitable for landing and at about 15 feet up the steep bank was a spacious campsite. This was really one of the prettiest campsites on the trip. At its height Koneshen had an airstrip and vintage maps show the village spread along each side of the runway. A trail to the runway area a few hundred yards away was immediately started by Aron and Eleazur.

This is a novel environment. For the past forty years this several hundred acre area has been under invasion by the jungle. The outlines of the runway and village were clearly visible as shrubby forest laced with patches of grassland. Distant avenues of high trees reflecting the village area's outlying boundaries. This great expanse of pre-climactic forest stages was a birder's bonanza! Fruiting trees, vines and shrubs attracted many tanagers--none less significant than one of the earliest spotted by Jennifer, a Paradise Tanager! Our first record and Davis's first for Guyana. Among the others were Silver-beak and Palm Tanagers, Violaceous and Golden-sided Euphonia, Green and Short-billed Honeycreepers, and Blue Dacnis. Several Hummingbirds included Long-tailed Hermit, Reddish Hermit, Fork-tailed Wood-nymphs and Rufous-breasted Hermits (a Life Bird) and, most notably, a pair of Amethyst Woodstars which hung around the area, perched and gave repeated extraordinary views for three days. A large bright blue bird in a distant treetop was a Spangled Cotinga.

On return to the Koneshen Camp we found that Ron's kit and hammock bag had not been put on a boat at Akhuto Village. Two of our Wai-Wai guides, Wachana Yaymochi, Aron Maripa together with young Duane (Duman) DeFreitas set off downriver with Ron, who confessed was always up for an adventure, to retrieve the luggage. The Wai-Wai guides to run the boat and Duman to assure that in the event of accident that no harm came to Ron. They ran down the river in the last twilight and came back in the total darkness of a new moon in a little more than two hours. During this feat, they even took a shot at a labba, but failed to recover it. Considering the nature of the river rocks and rapids this has got to stand as truly champion river running!

November 7th at breakfast a large katydid visited the table. This is a spectacularly camouflaged creature. The body and wings are

The piece de resistance for the day is a walk up to the top of a hill on the other side of the river. This trail became labeled as the "Manakin Mountain Trail." Initially, the trail was steep enough to fall off of, but near the summit several hundred feet up, it leveled off. Here we had a nice display by Tiny Tyrant-Manakin and White-crowned Manakin and a less good view of a wired Yellow-headed Manakin. Among one of my photographs was a 3/8s inch long chrysalis constructed as an open net with a lovely symmetrical design. The insect had pupated and hung this delicate structure from a leaf.

Our walk went down the hill, then back up again. A third leg is useful when the slopes are steep so Jerry Peters cut me a hiking staff and by the end of the trip everybody was using one. During the evening of November 7th we had a good, quick rain shower in camp. As often happens a tent embolism full of water formed and overflowed. Mild complaints from a thoroughly doused Jennifer were heard as she emerged from her hammock which was at the weather end of the benab.

MB had been seen on the first trip into the airstrip. It was seen in the second growth forest. However, the view was difficult from the posterior and high up, but all had agreed it was short-tailed. Today (Nov. 8th) two were seen perched in a leafless small scrub tree in the overgrown airstrip. While they were clearly seen, other than the short-tailed profile, there was still no outstanding field mark, no wingbars evident, grayish olive back, lighter grayish white beast? Nick had seen a flash of yellow on the head...a yellow cap/crown? By the time Davis had sent back to camp for the tape, with its voice, the pair had flown off.

We broke camp and headed to the Kamoa River. The trip to the mouth of the river was short-only 2.4 miles , but easily 2.5x that long because of the meanders. It took from 9:45AM to 12:45PM (we typically travel at 2 mph). The mouth of the Kamoa belies the rather substantial flowage of the Kamoa. There must be other less obvious channels since it is difficult to imagine how such a trivial little inlet can support a river of this size. Its insignificance was partly responsible for temporarily losing Justin's boat. We were running in the lead boat and had known from the GPS reading where to look for the mouth. Justin, running ahead of the remaining boats, passed the mouth and went upstream a few miles where they decided to dry laundry and fish. The remaining two boats with experienced Wai-Wai guides as part of the company had no trouble finding Kamoa's mouth.

So while Duane and Wachana went off to find Justin's boat we went birding, productively. The first find was a "heard" bird, a very close White Bellbird singing a garbled, unauthorized, but recognizable variation. Shortly thereafter were seen Warbling Antbirds, a Ferruginous-backed Antbird, Mouse-colored Antshrike (almost seen) and a Black-chinned Antbird. After an hour, the search party returned with the stragglers and we proceeded upstream. Trees and rocks in the Kamoa were infrequent obstacles and while for the most part the river was narrow the passage was uncomplicated. The most spectacular sight on this river occurred about a quarter mile below the place where we camped for the night. The stream here was lined on both sides by extremely high trees. Suddenly, a Harpy Eagle glided overhead across the 70 foot gap over the river at tree top level. It was immense and filled the sky like an airplane. Gone in 3 seconds. Our sun-downer camp (N 1o 31.449', W. 58o 46.260') was at a river bend on the left side marked by about ten tombstone-like rocks. The night was dry and quiet.

In the morning (Nov. 9th) we drifted down river. The predominant bird seemed to be Crimson Topazes, at least six were seen. Eight or nine Channel-billed Toucans actively displayed, called and flounced about in high streamside treetops. New southern-most Guyanan sites for both Euler's Flycatcher and Spot-winged Antshrike were found here. This is a much richer area for bird-life than was the Essequibo proper.

At 9:45 we pursued the main party up the Kamoa River to our primary camp. Trailing them relieved us of the burden of dealing with obstacles, and allowed the other boats the opportunity to set up camp prior to our arrival. It also kept us "out of their hair" allowing their work to go more smoothly. As we approached the new campsite a young Agami Heron was observed working the water at the edge of the

In the afternoon, we walked along a reopened trail toward the base of Kamoa Mountain. Wherever there is a mature high canopy, and this describes almost all mature "woodlands," passage is typically not complicated by dense underbrush. Thus, cutting a trail is first of all a matter of marking the passage and only secondarily of clearing a path. The marking is primarily done by slashing the underbrush on either side of our route to leave an avenue bordered by spikes 4 to 8 inches high and the laid down cut branches. Old spikes with new growth along this trail indicate previous trail cutting. If it is necessary to actually break through the secondary growth of thick underbrush or vine tangle, it is done by cutting and leaving them where they lay. "Blazing" of trees is done only where there is really high canopy and therefore negligible undergrowth, or where two trails meet. Our guides can mark the trail faster than we can walk and they generally move a considerable distance ahead of our birding party.

Along this trail we had very good birds commencing with a flock of ten Grey-winged Trumpeters resting on a log, Rufous-bellied Antwren, Ferruginous-backed Antbird and a well-seen Thrush-like Antpitta. A Tapir noisily charged away through the underbrush. Later in the evening we had a decent float down river. Andy has the makings of a true naturalist: nothing escapes his interest. When he has the chance he sets up a length of mist net and through the evening has brought in several nectar-feeding bats with short leaf nose projections. There is discussion whether one or two species are represented. I suspect two, others one. On the river we have regularly flushed small roosts of Long-nosed Bats, and occasionally a few White-lined sac-winged Bats, but these are different from those Andy has captured.

On the 10th of November we climbed Kamoa Mountain. The drainage in the forest between the river and Kamoa Mountain is peculiar. The land is basically flat but lacks obvious streambeds leading to the river. Instead the forest floor is pocked with numerous circular pits perhaps 5-6 feet deep and 6-8 feet across with almost perpendicular sides. In some places these form short 30 foot long channels without an evident outlet. These pits form the major obstacles as our trail snakes among them toward the mountain. We are perplexed. Tony has a lot more expertise in terrain structure than I, but we conclude that the outlet must be in a porous or broken rock substrate on which these clay-like soils rest. Flood waters must drain out the bottoms and into better draining substrate. If the geology extends to the juncture with the Essequibo this sort of substrate drainage could explain the dichotomy between the apparent lack of water at the mouth of the Kamoa River and the river's apparently much greater flow.

The trail toward the mountain was this typical pot-hole pocked soil through fairly high canopy forest. Here we encounter Golden-handed Marmoset, Guianian Cock of the Rock and Red-throated Caracara , the "anti-man bird." We carefully avoid disturbing this noisy critter. This forest eventually gave way to a much thinner palm growth in swampy flat glades -we'd pretty much escaped the pocked land - and then into a low (25 foot) canopy of apparently nutrient-starved trees no greater than 4" in diameter . All the undergrowth was covered with moss. In the low canopy woodland we recorded Saffron-crested Tyrant Manakin and an Olivaceous Woodcreeper-my first - and the best bird of the day, a Fuscous Flycatcher. This was a new bird for most of us, and Davis's first Guyanan record. As I balance on a fallen tree trunk writing this , Jennifer has spotted one just over my head.

As the land began its rise, large buttressed trees occurred which in turn yielded to lower canopy as the angle steepens. The rise toward the mountain top is the typical brutal 27o angle of actively eroding hillsides- for practical walking purposes- straight up. The mountain is decorated with exposed, spallated, broken and rounded boulders. Not infrequently these are balanced on others and form caves and rock shelters. This is Guianian Cock of the Rock country and we hear several and see one during the climb. Along the trail, Asaph spots a tiny cleared but unoccupied courtyard, characteristic of that used by displaying White-bearded Manakins. We climb, and cut trail to the summit (N 1^o 33.608', W 58^o 50.362') at 1742 ft, where we lunch. Later, the main party motored up river for a bird drift while I luxuriated in a late afternoon dip.

The next morning (Nov.11) another brief walk to the edge of the mountain confirmed almost all of the earlier species. At about 9:30AM we broke camp and headed down to the Chodikar River reaching it just after 1 PM. At the mouth of the Kamoa small caiman was found partially hidden in a stream-flooded bush.

We continued up the Chodikar and camped for the night on a long sandy shelf on the right side of the river (N 1^o 28.617', W 58^o 47.474'). While the camp was being set up we motored upstream and drifted back while a thundershower toyed with us and finally skirted around us. This camp was below a shallow inlet inhabited by several large electric eels which were clearly visible within a few feet of the boat. Haimara, large predacious fish, had been

We proceeded toward the mouth of the Sipu River. Just shy of the mouth of the Sipu River there are two rapids around midstream ledges and boulder fields . This is obviously an amerindian fishing and camping site. The rocks near the portage site are marked with the traditional multiply incised "feathers" so common in the Kanuku Mountains. One of the trailing boats hailed us, approached and Justin showed us a three-toed sloth that he'd draped over the bow. This critter, possible about18 lbs, was quite alive and had been shaken out of a streamside tree by our guides. It was the first of three we were to see on the trip. This was a male

We continued to the confluence of the Chodikar and Sipu Rivers. The rocky mouth of the Sipu is split by an island. We take the deeper, swifter more southern fork to the main river. Initially, the river is fairly broad and a classic meandering stream- as we progress westerly our path is as often any direction but west. At the sharper turns it is clear that the Sipu is eroding the shoreline much more so than was the Kamoa River. Large trees often block our passage. We had to portage twice and at least a dozen branches or trees had to be removed before we could pass. Because of the clearing required, the pace is leisurely. Thereafter, we followed the practice of sending a deconstructing crew ahead of us while we lagged behind at an easy pace. But never too far, since we often required assistance in passing trees that the other boats had passed. Our boat with seven passengers, occasionally eight, weighed much more than any other and often required the assistance of 6 or 8 strong arms to move us forward. Some obstructing trees showed signs of having been sawed by earlier travelers, possibly the Clarke Expedition five years earlier or a more recent birding expedition. In the shallows there are many small fish particularly where there are leaves, branches and logs. Tiny half-inch long, spotted , day-feeding, Corydoras sp., catfish vigorously work the shallow bottom while minnows sweep back and forth in the currents above them.

An hour before sundown we made our first camp on the right bank a mere 2.6 miles in a straight line from the mouth (N 1^o 24.462', W. 58^o 49.478'). This "Blackish Nightjar Camp" had good birding the next morning on a trail behind the camp that followed a dry stream bed toward an 80 foot high hillock. Asaph found a potsherd on this rise. This half inch thick, 4 x 5 inch fragment is from the rim of a very large bowl. In this region the inhabitants have used such vessels to inter human remains. Along the trail we found both Yellow-crowned and Yellow-throated Woodpeckers and a Curved-billed Scythebill. We called in Black-tailed and Black-throated Trogans. In this thin woodland we had this trip's first encounter with a large foraging bird party composed of Cinereous and Dusky-throated Antbirds, Grey Antwren, Fasciated Antshrike, Chestnut-rumped, Buff-throated and Striped Woodcreepers. On return to the now deserted camp we found the tent site already occupied by a pair of Blackish Nightjars. Apparently any cleared spot is instantly adopted by these caprimulgids- the camp had not been vacated even an hour.

We left the Blackish Nightjar Camp at 9:30 and by noon we still had not reached the leading party although we'd traveled 5.5 miles. During our run up the river an instantly identified "large swift" became, on closer inspection, a Bat Falcon that was hawking dragonflies. We watched silvered dragonfly wings flutter to the ground as it returned to its perch and dismembered its prize. On our return this perch was again occupied by likely the same Bat Falcon. A family of seven or more Giant Otters were disturbed by our passage and, of course, by everyone's attempts to arouse them with clearly counterfeit otter calls. In a branch overhanging the stream, two hummingbird nests were found. Presumably the higher had been flooded out and the lower was recently built. Their light color, white-buff, and rather rounded profile seems to mimic the nest of a type of marabunta wasp. That may be protection enough. Later in the trip we found and photographed a Crimson Topaz sitting in a similar nest on a mid-stream bush. Trees overlapping a flowing stream are often used as a protected nesting place and in a single stream-side shrub not infrequently several Streaked Antwren nests were observed.

At 2:25 we joined the main body and paused at a point that was near our closest approach to the Acari Mountain Range. Discussion then ensued concerning whether to set a camp here and reach the mountains from here, or to proceed to a camp further along that had been used and was familiar to our guides. Tony's map analysis, especially his determination from the map contours of availability of water at the trail system used by the Clarke Expedition, clearly won out. We continued forward until 4:45PM on November 13th when we set up a temporary camp (N 1^o 25.672', W 58^o 54.414'). This camp, Sipu #2, was again on the right side of the river. In the morning, Asaph and Aron cut a trail behind the camp away from the river where we encountered a large passing flock of antbird/wood creepers. Nothing too exciting occurred until Davis heard a new, distinctive ticking, call. An immediate chase through the woods by Davis, Jennifer and Asaph commenced. To no avail. It was not seen. Davis did record it and this bird was probably a Boat-billed Tody-Tyrant. Ridgely and Tudor (1994) describe this bird as rare in the middle strata of humid forests. At 4" this is one of the smaller, inconspicuous flycatchers. The particular area was in a forest section where a grove of medium sized palms met much larger deciduous trees. Unfortunately, on our return from the Acari camps we by-passed this site which Davis had had every intention or revisiting. While the search went on, I dawdled. Tony napped and later found a pair of Coraya Wrens. Ron stretched out flat on the trail and slept. We met Duane and Aron along the trail, left Camp #2 at noon and reached Camp #3 in the descending darkness at 5PM on November 14th having traveled 5.8 miles. Sipu #3 is at N 1^o 25.187', W 58^o 57.184' on the left side of the river. Sipu #3 will be our river base camp. While the camp is being set up we hold downriver and listen to evening birds and frogs. In addition to the "Rubber" Frog, there is another frog with an extremely loud call with a periodicity of the order of 10-20 seconds, rather than the 1/sec call of the Rubber Frog. This call was not heard elsewhere.

Our plan for tomorrow is to leave the boats at the river and proceed to a base camp at the foot of the mountain which we will climb. All the food, supplies, paraphernalia, hammocks etc. are to be packed the first five miles to the base camp and then the next day the minimum supplies necessary to operate the mountain camp will be hauled the four miles to the top of the mountain. In the morning we walk with Jerry and Asaph behind Sipu #3. Screaming Piha and White Bellbirds call incessantly and many others are heard but, with the exception of a delegation of passing Guanian Jays few other birds are seen. This is my best chance at seeing a Bell Bird, but that did not happen and the White Bell-bird is still firmly ensconced in the "heard " category of my life list.

At 9:45 we boated across the river and proceeded to follow the trail that Wachana and Eleazer have reopened toward the base camp. Within an hour we are overtaken by the first group of guides packing immense loads of gear up to the base camp. We move slowly up the trail fully exploiting this full day of birding. Among one of the distinctive sounds we hear is a monotonic whistle with a buzzy character, a White-fronted Manakin. We skulk after this bird as it flies from perch to perch for an hour until its pattern of movement among fruiting trees and a half dozen displaying

perches is unmistakable. While this knowledge is helpful to Davis, Jennifer and Asaph who find the bird, it is not to me. I had identified a favored perch and stalked the bird there. It never returned. I did not see this bird clearly until several days later. We proceeded leisurely along the trail, lunched and stopped to investigate a Barred Forest Falcon that was intent on ambushing antbirds attracted to an ant column. Eventually we broke into a forest of 4 inch diameter bamboo that lines a lovely crystal clear stream (Clarke's Creek). Tony's analysis of the watershed was excellent. The trail cuts directly to the creek which flows strongly over yellow-white sand and large rocks. There is a log over which the trail-markers walk but we take off our boots and wade. The water is cool and a delight. It is a pleasant stop. In all we cross this stream four times in the next five days. Each time I look forward to it like a cool refreshment.

A sharp climb up a slope and a walk along the other bank of the stream brings us to what Jennifer immediately announces as a welcome sight, a "Blue Tarp Inn, " our benab now roofed with a huge blue plastic tarpaulin. This side of the Clarke's Creek is level and open and has apparently been a traditional campsite along this track. Our maps show a number of trails into the Acari Mountains most of which are irregularly used and opened from time to time by hunters, rubber collectors and so-called "pork-knockers" (prospectors). While we socialize, Andy appears with a Dendrobates-type "poison frog" -this is a quick, brownish frog with a prominent yellow stripe along its flank. We set about photographing it and, predictably, when placed on the ground, it leaps and disappears under Ron's foot. Ron moves, but no frog is found until he shakes his pants leg, whereupon the frogs hops out and away. Ron is unhurt. We comfortably settle in as the sun sets.

After a slim breakfast, we set out at 7:10 to climb up to the mountain camp. The plan is that Pat and Cheryl and two guides will remain at this base camp and prepare more elaborate meals that will be delivered to us on the mountain to supplement the simpler fare (crackers, peanut butter, juice and rum, etc.) we have carried up. Thus, today on the mountain trail our party is a stretched-out chain of fourteen, we five plus nine guides carrying up everything to set up camp.

We ford Clarke's Creek again and hike south along the left bank rising slowly, then descend into a narrow valley to cross a small stream. A few dozen feet above and beyond the stream a rock wall appears. We move right along the wall to a broken ledge area and pulling ourselves up with trees, roots and branches reach softer walking ground. This is the second of the three hills on the route, we again dip into a small valley with a muddy tributary. The trail becomes significantly steeper as we make a long walk up the last hill to a ridge that will continue on at a lower grade for several miles to the Clarke Campsite. On the second hill, the leaders charge along with enthusiasm. I drop back. By the time I reach the third hill, I'm conserving my energy to the extent of catching my breath every ten or even less minutes. Jennifer is traveling at about my pace and when she catches up we stay together to the summit. The ridge narrows and now falls off sharply on each side as the climb becomes more gradual.

From time to time we pass and are passed by the camp-bearers. The loads carried by the crew are prodigious! The typical back pack for carrying loads (up to 200 lbs!) is a "warishi." They all know how to plait one from two palm fronds, with the central stems forming outside vertical supports, the woven portion against the back, and woven fronds forming sides, top and bottom. Open at the back, the load is secured within by tying it with lianas or bark strips. Bark is easily converted to a belt. As I watched, Eleazer walked up to a tree, reached up with his cutlass about eight feet to cut a gash and grabbed a strip of bark about 2-3 inches wide which he pulled down to the base of the tree. Detaching it and freeing the bark, he then stepped on the bark side and removed the rough bark from the strip by pulling it under his foot. The resulting soft, pliable underbark strip can then be tied to the bearer as a belt at the pelvis or as a tump line at the forehead. This allows the arms and hands to be free. The warishi can be constructed in minutes from materials on hand and discarded as quickly. They can be made with much finer more permanent materials, but on the trail "rough and ready" is the rule.

Wachana and Aron returning from the campsite have caught several "Blue" Frogs. Jennifer thinks them to be Dendrobates azule.

Blue frogs and a soft-leafed, bright green rush growing in isolated hummocks distinguish this flat mountaintop glade from any other environment we've visited. Near the 3000 foot summit, Jennifer and I catch up with the more speedy climbers who recommence group birding. The steep slopes on either side make this a niche for tepui-associated birds. One such is the Blackish Peewee which we hear and soon identify. This bird was seen here by the last birding group. We found it common along the steep slopes and nearly always calling. We arrived at camp at 4 PM and proceeded to get out of the camp builders way by walking along the ridge beyond the camp to where a large tree had fallen. Here we sat, listened to birdsong and watched the sun go down over distant southwestern mountains. Even at this modest elevation our isolation encourages a feeling of being on top of the world that is more profound than standing on the much higher peaks of New Hampshire or Colorado.

Nick had raced down the mountain and back up with supper arriving at about 7:00PM. Thus, he made a round-trip in just about three hours and the last hour in total darkness. We had made the uphill leg of his trip in nine hours! While Nick admits to having a flashlight it was only possible to accomplish this with outstanding woodsmanship. Nick is shod with cleated soccer shoes which may enable him to move more quickly than the other guides who travel barefoot. His distinctive track is familiar now to us all. A rave about the supper he delivered is in order: it was simply exquisite-curried Powis (Black Currasow) and rice done perfectly.

Awake at 4:30 AM on November 17th. In the early morning a small lizard has leaped onto my hammock tent roof and skitters back and forth from one side to the other for ten minutes before figuring out how to escape from this nylon wasteland. The Leonid Meteor Shower was not seen this morning (I'm told that Davis looked). The trees are misted by early dew, but not dripping. The temperature is a coolish 70 F. The calls of a Mouse-colored Antshrike greet the dawn and the double clicking of Straight-billed Hermits marks their sudden dashes through camp. Nick and Justin have cut a new trail southwest beyond the camp. Their trail skirts along a fine-stemmed bamboo thicket detouring in two places along the ridge to avoid marabunta nests. Their woodsmanship is evident in that they have spotted these hazards before disturbing them. The path follows a plainly visible game trail that probably remains from the botanist's trail. The game trail is worn down 3-4 inches below the ground level and is about 12-15 inches wide.

Among a number of birds new to me on this trail were Plain Antvireo, Tepui Greenlet and Rufous-winged Antbird. A Cliff Flycatcher repeatedly hawked insects from a bare branch above a low canopy. This bird shares the classical grey-brown back and rusty breast color pattern of our American Robin. We move along the trail with Jennifer maintaining her stellar performance in seeing birds first and best. She has the eyes of a hawk and color vision no one can believe. Ron claims she has eyes in the back of her head. Certainly her motion detection, color and peripheral vision is a good as it comes. Davis is mesmerized by the song of Reddish Hermits and while he tapes we look about. Wachana and Aron had earlier cut a overlook with a very nice view across the valley to the height of land that is the Guyanan-Brazilian border. Standing on the edge of a 500 foot precipice we have a great view. A few small dark swallows skim the cliff face trees. By location and feeding habit these must be White-thighed Swallows although detecting their tiny white thighs is an impossibility.

We repair back to camp and spend the early evening birding on the fallen tree behind camp. In the evening we get reports that two white-lipped peccaries have been shot. Actually, one was shot and thought not to be hit, so a second was shot. In reality both were killed. We anticipated pork in some form. Usually this meat is pretty dry, because in this climate it's been smoked and sometimes salted to preserve it. But today, the meal delivered from the base camp was a gourmand's delight of fried pig's liver and roasted pork tidbits with onions, rice and gravy. I'm a liver and onions type and this meal was absolutely fantastic. After dinner as we prepared to do the bird list, a thundershower rolled in and we took refuge in the shelter. Between the thunder and the torrents of rain pelting the tarpaulin, talking was impossible. We managed, however, to squeeze the listing into a break between two big showers. There were at least three more showers after we turned in for the night which kept the crew busy. One aspect of this campsite is its absence of a water supply which required a trip on most days into the valley for water. Tonight much of the crew's evening activity was to collect rainwater to forestall the next water run.

The morning of November 18th was still showery with complete cloud cover. The Leonid Meteor Shower, supposedly prime this early morning, was instead the Leonid Rain Showers. We walked out the trail behind the camp to view birds near the fallen tree. New birds seen well were Blue-napped Chlorophonia (one had been seen yesterday, but only today did I pick it up), Chestnut-tipped Toucanet and a Blood Red Tanager. But an old acquaintance from Aziscohos was my outstanding bird of the day: an American Redstart! Later in the morning we spotted two more of these neotropical migrants. I'll never look at a breeding Redstart in Maine again without thinking of the 44o of latitude separating this bird from it.

This was not our only migrant. While we sat at an overlook, the "tickity-puck" call of a Summer Tanager was heard, and the bird seen well. Asaph had cut an even nicer viewing hole in the forest at the precipice edge which permitted us to see out across the valley and directly down into the treetops below us. Spotted Tanager, Blue Dacnis, and the Blue-napped Chlorophonia were seen from this vantage point as were distant large macaws in the valley floor a thousand feet below and a King Vulture soaring below us along the ridgeline below the Brazilian border.

Andy carefully tending his mist-nets and has captured a Wing-banded Wren. We gather about to photograph this small dark brown bird

Supper was roasty bits of peccary, pigeon peas and rice. Then the rains came pretty much through the night. During the evening Davis recorded some frogs and at one point he and Duane start mining for a frog whose croak was underground, they removed leaf litter and finally concluded that this frog was calling from a burrow below ground. The frog kept calling, but they abandoned the search before uncovering it. The frog calls are numerous. I believe I distinguished at least seven distinct calls-although insects could contribute to the cacophony.

In the morning Nov. 19, there is no organized birding. Today, we start our withdrawal from here to New England and California. Almost all the crew is on the mountain except Pat, Eleazer and Jerry. Cheryl in charge of the kitchen is, as always, a bright sprite. After coffee, bakes, crackers, peanut butter, jelly and whatever's left in the larder, we're off down the hill starting around 8:00 AM. The plan is to walk the 9 miles to the Sipu River #3 Camp. Before noon we encounter a pair of Collared Trogans (a new trogran for me). At the steepest part of the descent I negotiated the rocky section on the seat of my pants. We lunched and watered at the now-deserted, peccary skull-decorated base camp at Clarke's Creek then back-tracked for the Sipu. We stopped several times to check for such critical range extensions as McConnell's Flycatcher and Dusky-chested Flycatcher. As always I'm reluctant to spend the night in the woods, so I encourage passing up a number of goodies! We make it to camp just before dusk at 5:15 PM .

The next morning (Nov. 20) at 5:30 while the Sipu #3 Camp is being dismantled we again cross the river and walk into the woods searching for things we'd missed. We easily spot a pair of Yellow-billed Jacamars and a male White-fronted Manakin, which had been such a chore five days ago. At about 8:30, the woods suddenly quaked with the repeated howls of howler monkeys. We're so used to hearing distant howlers in the dawn twilight and so unexpected, so close and overwhelming was this sound that it sent a chill through me. What precipitated this outburst was not clear but in all our walks in howler monkey range, this was the first time I've heard it other than in dawn or dusk.

I'd mentioned to Davis that an Ochre-bellied Flycatcher would be a new bird for me, he heard one. We found it, rather, this slim, diminutive flycatcher after considerable difficulty, managed to find us. Another new bird was a Ringed Antpitta easily attracted by tape. As we retreated to the boat launch we walked through a small coven of Midas Marmosets.

We left Sipu Camp#3 at 11:00 and ran down to Sipu #1 arriving at 6PM. The river had fallen about five or six inches in the past several days exposing many of the trees that we had slid over going upstream. Thus, there was almost as much work going with the current as against it. Jerry is skilled with the ax and has done some prodigious chopping of fallen trees. In one case he cut a nearly two foot diameter trunk to make a passage for the boat. We camped at Sipu#1 overnight.

After a quick breakfast (Nov. 21) we walked into the woods to the potsherd site where Davis worked hard to get us a look at a Spotted Antpitta. Eventually, it moved to where we all could see this pretty, little dumpling antbird. Most of our group had departed by the time we returned to the deserted camp. We proceeded down river. After a bend or two, suddenly Duane called out "Jaguar!" as a slender, young cat bounded toward the water along a large fallen tree trunk and, on spotting us, whirled about and raced back into the woods. My first good look at a wild jaguar. We paused nearby to tape Euler's Flycatchers and then headed for the Chodikar. After two hours we approached the mouth of the Sipu where we investigated the fuel cache left on the trip in. The fuel had been picked up but Duane was also searching for the seat backs that had been carried by the lead Wai-Wai boat. We found them neatly stacked on the island at the mouth of the Sipu. We then headed for the Koneshen Camp and arrived near sundown at this completely set-up camp. A total of 31 miles of river travel today.

While a quick look at a jaguar was certainly a highlight, perhaps the biggest event of the day was an encounter with a herd of White-lipped Peccary crossing the river. As we came around a corner we met the herd, 33 in all, plunging down a bank into the river immediately ahead of our boat. They formed a tight straight line of animals swimming two-abreast, close enough together so that their

The next morning we walked toward Koneshen's abandoned airstrip near the site where we had previously seen the mystery bird, Wachana, fully aware of its importance to us, shot it and presented it to Davis. The tiny little corpse was photographed by at least four cameras and measured in all its parameters. It was preserved in ~75% ethyl alcohol and delivered to the Smithsonian for identification. Our examination revealed that in addition to the short tail, absence of wing bars, and general lack of distinctive plumage (the back was olive green, belly lightish yellow), the bird had a concealed yellow patch on its occipital crown (a coup for Nick). Everything tended to support MB's identity as a Tiny Tyrant Manakin. The Tiny Tyrant Manakin is a species that we are familiar with and have seen extensively at very close quarters. I later expressed this possibility to Davis. As of this writing the Smithsonian has reported a DNA analysis supporting this identification. But I am just as discomforted with this determination as is Davis. What we know of their habitat preferences and voices tends to support two separate bird types. Of course, this raises the question: how little a genetic sequence change can result in separation of species? Was the analysis applied to the DNA sufficient to discriminate it from a closely allied species? Of course there are always two types in most bird species, male and female, and Davis suggests it is possible that they have different calls. Unfortunately, I've no report on the sex of the collected bird, nor do we know the sex of the displaying Tiny Tyrant Manakin that we've seen.

We cleared the now deserted Koneshen Camp and motored downstream following the boats that had left earlier. At Mesakenari Landing we found Cheryl with our laundry spread out on the rocks and learned the disturbing news that Duman had gone up to the village infirmary and was diagnosed with malaria. It turned out that Plasmodium vivax was the infecting agent. That puts a better light on otherwise bad news since P. vivax usually responds to rapid treatment. We proceeded with the efforts of the guides through the rapids to camp on the left side of the river in sight of the old Akhuto Village.

The facilities at Akhuto had been taken over by a Canadian television crew who were documenting a concert to be held by the Wai-Wai Children's Choir. One of the most loudly heralded events in this country was last year's delivery and installation of a piano for the religious mission at Mesekenari. It was flown into Gunn's, hauled to the river and taken to Mesekenari by boat. It's every motion was proclaimed by press agentry and the entire process reported in publications, including in one of the in-flight airline publications. John Blashford-Snell, a retired British Army officer, was one of the principals in this effort in support of missionary activity. After settling in and lunching we decided to spend the afternoon birding along the Suriname Road.

The Suriname Road is the path that connects the Essequibo watershed with the New River watershed of the Oronoque River in Suriname. We boated down river a mile to the landing on the right bank below Akhuto Mt., the small hill from which the old village site got its name. On the landing where the Suriname Road begins were several dried, discarded warishi that served as reasonable doormats in the soft mud. A quick climb of 20 feet brought us to a wide trail which led over a log crossing toward an old farm site. In the woods we had a Chestnut Woodpecker and viewed an often heard but seldom seen Plumbeous Pigeon. The trail led into an overgrown farm area. This plot of several acres was burned and smoldering in preparation for new planting. It was edged with old plaintain trees on one side and with razor grass on the other. In the distant open skyline were large trees; some leaved, some leafless. The location gave "candy box" birding from the outset. Immediately evident were a Pompadour Cotinga in a distant tree, three Purple-throated Fruitcrows, a Bare-necked Fruitcrow, a Spangled Cotinga and a Capuchin Bird. Tanagers were represented by Fulvous-crested, Blue-grey and Blue-backed and Euphonias by Violaceous, Golden-bellied and Golden-sided. Black-faced Dacnis, Swallow-Tanager and both Purple and Red-legged Honeycreepers were seen well. This farm glade was fully illuminated by the late afternoon shining from behind us. The views were spectacular. Eleazer called my attention to a pair of Red and Green Macaws that were entering a hollow in a distant tree, surely a nest hole. A pair of woodpeckers alighted in a plaintain tree immediately in front of us, Golden-olive Woodpeckers, life birds for me. In a bare branches of an overhead deciduous tree an Epaulet Oriole landed. This was a new bird for my Guyanan list but one I'd seen in Argentina last year. At the setting sun we were joined by Justin and Andy and returned to the campsite.

Duman came down from Mesekenari. Although he looks really "peally-wally," as he looked yesterday morning, he is set to fly to Lethem in the morning to rejoin his family. We learn from the radio that Sandy will be on the plane which will pick him up while we are birding on the river.

After the day's birdlisting and a decent meal of pizza and fish the group fractionated, many of the party turning in. However, a significant number of the guides, Duane and Pip and me and Tony remained, enjoying this last bit of camping camaraderie. Eventually, the discussion was warped in the direction of a "broken" paddle. The damage? About a 1/4 inch strip had been pried off the blade of Justin's #1 paddle reducing its breadth from possibly eight inches to seven and three quarters. A inquest of sorts commenced, Who had used it? When and where had the alledged "damage" occurred. The accusation was made that Pip was responsible for this desecration. Much lawyering filled the air. Was the number a #1 or a #7- they look alike. Was the paddle pristine? What is the definition of "pristine" as applied to paddles? Who made it? Witnesses were called suborned, perjured and evaporated like mist in the noonday sun. In truth, paddles had survived far greater insults. Almost all had lesions, some lesser, some greater, and at least one paddle had even been left in the river with less commotion than this affair. All this took place just in front of the sleeping tent. Finally, Jennifer leaped our of her hammock and charged the contestents, soundly berated me and harangued the assembly for interrupting her napping. After a few minutes I headed for my hammock alluding to the fact that if I didn't Jen would have a conniption. With my departure the commotion subsided - possibly because I was no longer present to pour fuel on the fire. As if the ruling spirits needed to comment on the affair, for the first time in the trip I flipped out of my hammock onto the ground while trying to settle in, and within minutes a squall-line raced through camp threatening to rip the tarpaulin off of the benab and dousing us with horizontal rain drops.

In the morning the village cock's crow woke us long before any jungle sound and we went for our usual dawn drift. There are still surprises and our first unusual find was a flock of a dozen Cattle Egrets perched on the river bank shrubs. Cattle Egrets are infrequent away from the coasts and the extensive savannas. The flock of White-eyed Parakeets now numbers 209. Other flyovers were a half dozen Golden-winged Parakeets and two Caica Parrots. A very large flock of fast-moving foraging birds were seen in the streamside screen of trees. Among them were Bananquits, Tanagers (Silver-beaked and Palm) and Lemon-chested Greenlet, Tropical Gnatcatcher, Red-eyed Vireo, Greyish Mourner, to name a few. The flock probably had more than forty small and fast birds in it. We parked along a clay bank and worked on a shy Silvered Antbird until all saw it. This was a tough find!

After a brief breakfast, bags packed, we bid Pat Rash goodbye with many thanks and motored across the bend to Akhuto Landing where we met Cheryl and had a farewell photo opportunity. Cheryl has been so much a part of our group trips during the past several

Trekers with Cheryl. (l->r) Tony Federer, Davis Finch, Don Green, Cheryl Xavier, Ron Branson, Jennifer Green Photo - Don Green

Entire Group at Gunn'sl->r: Andy Nerain, Aron Maripa, Jerry Peters, Duane Defreitas, Davis Finch. Back row l->r:Asaph Wilson, Ron Branson, Justin DeFreitas, Ealazur Mawasha and son, Nick "Nikki" Persad, Jennifer Green, Wachana Yamocha, Don Green, Pip Hiscock, Tony Federer Photo - Don Green

Once again, our reception at Ogle Airport and the care shown by the staff of Wilderness Explorers could not have been better. We were quickly chauffered to the Le Meridian-Pegasus and checked in. In the process I asked the concierge manager if he would wrap the Wai-Wai bow so it could be shipped with me as luggage. He could and did a splendid job. By around 5:00 Jennifer and I were having a beer, or three, on the patio next to the pool while watching an enterprising kiskadee hawk scraps on the next table from the rungs of one of the chairs.

The flight back from Georgetown to Barbados was uneventful. The baggage transfer was burdensome and the characteristic lack of efficiency of Bardados customs, already reported on, was now at least expected. In Miami customs clearence is remarkably efficient considering the literal flood of travelers and the prodigious problems of baggage transfers. The now famous Wai-Wai bow ultimately was recovered without any problem. Odd sized items are only a problem in figuring out where they are put- a different spot in every airport. In Boston we found the C&J limosine had gone as we were in waiting for our luggage. The next limosine delivered Davis to Newburyport and Tony, Jennifer and me to Portsmouth where our rides home awaited us. Altogether a decent ending to a terrific adventure.

Birding Outback Guyana

VI. The Acari Mountains