Giovanni Battista Cerruti, My Friends the Savages
“ With his blowpipe ready the Sakai penetrates into the forest, creeping softly among the tall grasses and bushes. No rustling, no crackling of dry leaves denounces the presence of the man who advances cautiously under the broad green roof, casting keen and restless glances [205] towards the branches of the trees. His ear catches the faintest flapping of wings. From time to time he utters a cry like that of a bird or a monkey, and quickly a feathered biped, moved by curiosity descends from a higher to a lower bough ”
