CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
A BUTTERFLY HUNT.
"Why, Nat," cried my uncle, "I was beginning to be alarmed. Beenfishing, eh?" he said, as he shook hands with our black friend, who hadevidently made up his mind to stay breakfast; for, seizing the big fish,he snapped off a couple of great banana leaves upon which to lay it, andthe man who had carried it went away; but not until I had made him showhis teeth by giving him a couple of biscuits and a handful of sugar.
I explained to my uncle how I had been carried off that morning, and myfeeling of alarm, and he nodded.
"I don't think there is anything to be alarmed about, Nat," he replied,"so long as we do not in any way touch upon their prejudices; but what asplendid fish, Nat, my boy! It must be a kind of mullet, I should say,by its soft mouth and the long barbs hanging from the corners of itschubby lips. Yes, that's what it must be; but I'm sorry to say that Iam very ignorant about fish."
My uncle had not been idle, for he had made a good fire, the kettle wasboiling, and we should have begun breakfast at once if it had not beenfor Mr Ebony's preparations. He had lost no time, but had slit offsome great chunks of solid fish, placing them on great bamboo skewers toroast, washing his hands afterwards with great nicety, and then scoopingup the dry warm sand and letting it trickle over his fingers, palms, andwrists, until they were dry.
"I have not been idle, you see, Nat," said my uncle, pointing to a newlymade skin, that of a very lovely little green lory with a delicatepeach-coloured head, the separation from the green feathers being markedby a deep black collar which gave the bird a neatness and beauty thatwas very attractive to the eye.
But Mr Ebony was not satisfied with his contribution to the breakfast,for, striking me on the breast, pointing to the fire, and saying, "Ikan,Ikan, youf, youf," several times over, I repeated them to hissatisfaction, understanding that he meant I was to mind the fish, andthen he went off quickly.
"Ikan," said my uncle, "that's the Malay word for fish, so I supposethey use some Malay words though their language is quite different."
"Then he said, `youf, youf,' uncle."
"Yes: youf must mean cooking or fire, which is api in the Malay tongue.But this fresh morning air gives me an appetite, Nat. I hope he won'tbe long; turn the fish, my lad, it's burning."
"No, uncle, it's only brown," I replied, altering the position of thegreat collops; "but how beautiful it smells!"
"Yes, Nat, we want no fish sauces out here, my boy."
"Where did you shoot that beautiful lory, uncle?" I asked.
"It was in that palm-tree close to us, Nat," he replied; "and now, whilewe are waiting, I'll put together a few boxes and the butterfly-nets andthe cyanide bottle, ready for a start directly after breakfast."
"Shall you take the guns, uncle?"
"Only one, Nat, and we'll carry it in turn," he replied. "This is to bea butterfly and beetle day, so we will not go far in any direction, butkeep within reach of the camp so as to come back for food and rest. Itwill save us from having to carry provisions."
Just then we saw Mr Ebony coming towards us loaded with a basket offruit, which he placed on the sand, and then after a dance round us heplumped down by the fire and picked out the skewers where the fish wasmost done, handing one to each, and our breakfast began.
Mr Ebony thoroughly enjoyed his coffee with plenty of sugar, for he hadno distrust now, but ate and drank as we did, laughing and talking allthe while, and stopping every now and then to point to butterfly or birdthat went by, eating a prodigious breakfast, but mostly of fish andfruit.
Breakfast over, as soon as he saw us ready for a start he stuck hisspear down again in front of the door, excited and eager to be off, andready to draw our attention to the fact that one of us had no gun.
We pointed, however, to the butterfly-nets and that satisfied him, andwhen we were ready to start I suggested to my uncle that we should putthe uncooked remains of the fish and the fruit inside the hut so as tohave them when we came back.
"To be sure, Nat," he said, "I had forgotten them."
But at the first attempt to remove them Mr Ebony stopped me, anduttered a loud, ringing cry, whose effect was to bring about a couple ofdozen little naked black boys out of the jungle, where they must havebeen watching us, safely hidden all the time.
To these comical-looking little objects the chief said a few words, whenthere was a rush, and the remains from our breakfast were carried offlike magic, Mr Ebony pointing to the sea and to the trees as much as tosay, "There is plenty more when we want it."
We were not long in getting to work, for no sooner were we in the denserpart of the island where the foliage grew thick and moist, than we wereastounded at the number of little lizards that swarmed about, dartinghere and there and puzzling me at first as to what colour they were.One moment they seemed to be bright green, the next like a wrigglingline of the most beautiful blue.
I found out their colour, though, as soon as I had one in thebutterfly-net, for while their bodies were of a brilliant green, theirtails were a blue as pure as the sky.
A couple of them were consigned to the spirit bottle for preservation,and then we tramped on, growing more and more delighted with the countrythe farther we went.
For some time butterflies were absent, so we had to take to collectingbirds, but hardly had we shot three different kinds of parrots, all of amost lovely colour, than we seemed to tumble upon the butterflies, andin the course of that one day we captured some of the most lovelyspecimens I had ever seen out of a museum. Blue, yellow, black,crimson, no tint was wanting to make them attractive, and we went on forhour after hour, forgetting all about our dinner in the excitement ofthe chase, and filling our boxes before we thought of leaving off.
Not only butterflies had been captured, but beetles of many kinds, mostof them clad in armour that seemed to have been burnished, so brilliantwere they in their green, purple, and violet when held up in the sun.
Nat the Naturalist: A Boy's Adventures in the Eastern Seas Page 24