Stories about the distant countries — as fishing baizes: huge insects, walking trees, the speaking animals. Well-well … However the fact that it seems to us imagination of the traveler can be the truth!
Who never got into the primitive wood, that can't make to itself(himself) a concept, right about him. We in Europe have primitive woods, but what friendly they seem in comparison with Ekuador's woods where the person has to cut through to himself the road at least once to look there inside. And here the silence and rest in the wood, but are rest of a grave, majestic and awful.
For all that there is a special charm to be transferred at nightfall to this wild place and, расположась under the dense, protecting from a rain branches, to overhear signs of life. Impenetrable gloom. Only one big shining beautiful bugs fly on the wood with two green lamps as at the engine, and with a red-yellow lamp behind, and pieces of a rotten tree of a bizzare shape spill mysterious light from all directions. Strange incomprehensible sounds are distributed on all wood, and it is difficult to decide to what being they belong; grasshoppers don't cease to chirr till the morning; here and there the knock of the working lonely carpenter — carpintero as very thoroughly natives call one big woodpecker is heard. But soon also the feathery carpenter becomes silent. Again the silence comes for a moment, and then again the wood is disclosed by shrill plaintive shout, precisely the person appeals about the help, and meanwhile it no more as shout of the little black birdie finding pleasure to intrude upon leisure of wild neighbors from time to time. Perhaps, and really the birdie needs the help, maybe, she shouts, having been frightened of the owl who is looking for her deaths and making the deaf sounds. And the owl won't be gone in this wood: it is easy to it to find in the dark to itself production, even at tree top.
New sounds reach the traveller's ear. It seems to him that the dog in the distance barks. But isn't present, this is not a dog, she also can't be in such solitude. This is a snake of culebra as call her here, lifts, it is unknown why, the night song and approaches sometimes the bed of people, but as all in general wild animals, she fears presence of the person and runs away if only notices him. Beside me the small, but fast stream streams, between tops majestic дерев whistles for wind, and there, somewhere in the distance, deplorable shout of "the lost soul" sounds. So poetically ekuadorets call quite big bird whose shout is similar to the first plaintive whistle of our nightingale, but certainly that shout of the American bird is much stronger than nightingale.
In such night hearing of the fan of the nature is pleasantly fascinated by sounds of the singing fishes who are found only in this country. At first this singing sounds quietly as the remote body, then everything becomes louder and is heard from all directions, and then again ceases. This small fish, most likely, is very small, timid and quickly swims because it is seldom snared. Sometimes, that the fisherman will also catch such small fish who isn't becoming silent even in bondage, but the superstitious hunter is frightened a fish voice and sets the captive free. In the people it is told a lot of wonderful about this small fish or more likely about the sounds made by her. What would be if this singer was found at us, in the Baltic Sea, near the island of Uzedoma, where as believe, there was once a city? Undoubtedly, legends of bell-ringing or an organ game in the drowned church would be formed.
ACTUALLY Whisper of the monk
Strangely enough, "singing fishes" about whom Friedrich Gerstekker tells exist. This is the fish warrant officer (Porichthys notatus) living in the Pacific Ocean. She leads a nocturnalism, and buries in sand in the afternoon. "Songs" of these fishes which can proceed till two hours in a row, remind monotonous mutter of monks.
Silent and high pleasure is felt in this desert, but to feel it, it is necessary or not to know any other life, or to move away here from people, from the educated world only for a while. It is impossible to remain here forever.
Be based you, the silent crude wood, with your eternal shadow, with your shining bugs and cheerful palm trees, be based, the quiet gulf and you, peace huts with the shouting children and the barking dogs! The European isn't created for such life or, at least, hasn't got used to it. He is attracted back home by live spiritual motives. But where he was, reminiscence of the dense rainforest will always be with him, and this reminiscence — the best treasure which he will carry away from there.
HERO Friedrich Gerstekker (1816–1872)
From 1837 to 1843 I lived in North America, I have come there by the vessel where served as the fireman. Having returned to Germany, I have written several adventure books which have won improbable popularity.
In 1849 I have gone to a travel across North America, the Sandwich Islands again … Subsequently I have traveled over South America, I became the novelist famous around the world. s works were often translated in Russia, and the composition "Universe" written especially for youth was republished in Russian till 1917 five times.