Nat the Naturalist: A Boy's Adventures in the Eastern Seas

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

  EBO SATISFIES OUR WANTS.

  It would be tedious if I were to go on describing the almost endlessvarieties of birds we shot, glowing though they were with rainbowcolours, and to keep repeating how we skinned and preserved thissun-bird, that pitta, or trogon, or lovely rose-tinted dove. Parrotsand cockatoos we found without number, and as we selected only thefinest specimens, our collection rapidly increased, so fast, indeed, bysteady work, that I began to understand how my uncle had brought sogreat a number from the West.

  But still one of the great objects of our visit to this part of theworld had not been achieved; we had shot no birds of paradise; and thesewere scarce things in England at the time of which I write.

  There were plenty of rough specimens of their plumage worn in ladies'bonnets; but a fair, well-preserved skin was hardly known, those broughtto England being roughly dried by the natives; so at last my uncledeclared that no more birds should be shot and skinned until we hadobtained specimens of some at least of the lovely creatures whose crieswe often heard about us, but which tantalisingly kept out of shot.

  It was a difficult task, but we at last made Ebo understand that we mustshoot some of these birds, when by his way he seemed to indicate that ifwe had only told him sooner we might have had as many as we liked.

  That very day he obtained a good little store of provisions, shoulderedhis spear, and went off by himself, and we saw no more of him forforty-eight hours, when he came back in the most unconcerned way, justas if he had never been out of sight, and sat down and ate all that weput before him.

  After that he lay down and went to sleep for some hours, waking up readyto dance around us, chattering vehemently until we had finished theskins we were preserving, when he signed to us to take our guns and tofollow him.

  We obeyed him, but he did not seem satisfied until we had collected someprovision as well, when once more he set off, taking us through a partof the island we had not visited before, and, if anything, morebeautiful than that we had.

  It was a long journey he took us, and we could have secured hundreds ofbrilliantly coloured birds, but we only shot a few large ones, such aswe knew to be good food, ready for our halt by the camp fire, for itseemed that we were not to return to our hut that night.

  Over hillsides, down in valleys where tree-ferns sprang up, of the mostbeautifully laced fronds, great groves of palms and clumps of cocoa-nuttrees, some of whose fruit Ebo climbed and got for us, and still we wenton, avoiding the marshy-looking spots which experience had taught us tobe the home of the serpents, which, in very small numbers, inhabited theisle.

  Several times over we looked inquiringly at Ebo, but he only smiled andpointed forward, and we followed him till he stopped suddenly and showedus some wood ready for making a fire.

  Here we had a welcome rest and a hearty meal, but he did not let us staylong, hurrying us forward, till, just before sundown, he brought us to adense patch of forest, with huge trees towering upward and spreadingtheir branches, making an impenetrable shade.

  "It will be too dark to travel far here to-night, Nat," said my uncle."Where does he mean to go? But this ought to be the place for the birdsof paradise, Nat, if we are to get any."

  Just then Ebo stopped, and we found a rough hut of leaves with a bed offern already waiting for us, this having been part of his work duringhis prolonged absence.

  His delight knew no bounds as he saw that we were pleased, and as usualhe indulged in a dance, after which he caught us in turn by the arm andtried very hard to explain that the birds of paradise were plentifulhere.

  We were too tired to think about anything much besides sleep, and verygladly crept into our hut, to sleep so soundly without a single thoughtof serpents or huge apes, that I seemed hardly to have closed my eyes,and felt exceedingly grumpy and indisposed to move when Ebo beganshaking me to get me up.

  "All right!" I said, and then, as I lay still with my eyes closed, Ebokept on:

  "Hawk, hawk, hawk; kwok, kwok, kwok;" and it seemed so stupid of him,but there it was again; "Hawk, hawk, hawk; kwok, kwok, kwok."

  "Come, Nat," cried my uncle; "unbutton those eyelids, boy, and get up.Don't you hear the birds calling?"

  "I thought it was Ebo, uncle," I said. "Oh! I am so sleepy."

  "Never mind the sleepiness, Nat. Come along and let's see if we cannotget some good specimens."

  Just then I saw Ebo's face in the opening, and cutting a yawn right inhalf I followed my uncle out into the darkness, for though the birds ofparadise were calling, there was no sign of day.

  But if we wished for success I felt that we must get beneath the treesunseen, and, examining my gun, I followed my uncle, who in turn keptclose behind Ebo.

  The black went forward very cautiously, and looking very strange andmisty in the darkness; but he evidently knew what he was about, goingalong amongst the great tree trunks without a sound, while we followedas lightly as we could.

  On all sides we could hear the hoarse cries of the birds, which we feltmust be in good numbers, and I felt less sleepiness now in the freshmorning air, and a curious feeling of excitement came over me as Ithought of the lovely amber plumes of these birds, and wondered whetherI should be fortunate enough to bring one down.

  All at once Ebo stopped beneath an enormous tree, and as we crept upclose to its mighty trunk we gazed up into the darkness and could hereand there catch a glimpse of a star; in fact, so black was it, that butfor the cries of the various birds we heard, it might have been takenfor the middle of the night.

  There was nothing to see but an almost opaque blackness, though now andthen I fancied I could make out a great branch crossing above my head.It seemed nonsense to have come, but the loud cry of one of the birds wesought, sounded loudly just then and silenced my doubts. I raised mygun ready for a shot, but could see nothing.

  Just then my uncle whispered with his lips to my ear: "Don't make asound, and don't fire till you have a good chance. Look out."

  The loud quok, quok, quok, was answered from a distance, repeated aboveour heads, and then there was the whistle of wings plainly heard in thesolemn silence of the forest, and all this repeated again overhead tillit seemed as if we were just beneath a tree where the birds of paradisemet for discussion, like the rooks at home in the elms. But no matterhow I strained my eyes I could not distinguish a single bird.

  The minutes went by, and I longed for the light, for though I knew itwould betray our presence, still I might catch sight of one bird andbring it down. But the light did not come, and as my arms ached withholding up my gun I lowered it, and patiently waited with my heartbeating heavily, as I listened to the cries that were on the increase.

  All at once I felt an arm glide over my shoulder, and I could just makeout that Ebo was pointing upward with his black finger steadily in onedirection.

  I tried to follow it but could see nothing, and I was thinking how muchbetter a savage's sight was than ours, when from out of the darknessthere came the hoarse "_Hawk, hawk, hawk; quok, quok, quok_," and as thecry seemed to direct my eye, I fancied that I could see something movingslightly at a very great height, bowing and strutting like a pigeon. Ilooked and looked again and could not see it; then a star that waspeeping through the leaves seemed to be suddenly hidden, and there wasthe movement again.

  I forgot all about my uncle's orders about not firing until I had a goodchance, and taking a steady aim at the dimly seen spot just as thehoarse cry arose once more, I drew the trigger.

  The flash from my gun seemed to cut the blackness, and the report wentechoing away amongst the trees; then there was a sharp rustling noise,and a dull, quick thud, and I was about to spring forward and seek forwhat I had shot, but Ebo's arms closed round me and held me fast.

  I understood what he meant, and contented myself with reloading my gun,the click of the lock sounding very loud in the silence that had ensued,for the report of my gun had caused a complete cessation of all cries,and I felt that we should get no m
ore shots for some time; but all thesame I had heard no rush of wings as of a flock of birds taking flight,and I wondered whether any of them were still in the dense top of thetree.

  Five or ten minutes must have elapsed, and then once more Ebo's armglided over my shoulder and rested there, while I laid my cheek againstit, and gazed in quite another direction now till I fancied I saw whathe was pointing at, but which looked like nothing but a dark spot highup amongst the twigs; in fact, when I did make it out I felt sure thatit was a nest.

  But I recalled how accurate Ebo had been before, and once more takingaim, making it the more careful by leaning my gun barrel against thetrunk of the tree, I fired; there was a quick rustle of leaves andtwigs, and another dull thud, but no one moved.

  After a few minutes' waiting Ebo pointed out another, whatever it was,for I was still in doubt as to whether these were birds of paradise thatI had shot, for the silence had not been broken since I fired first.

  I took a quicker aim this time and drew the trigger, and once more therewas a heavy fall through the branches, and then as if by magic it seemedto be daylight, and I saw several big birds dotted about the tree.

  Uncle Dick and I fired together, and then came a rush of wings asanother bird fell, the loud cries being repeated from a distance; whileEbo, evidently considering that it was of no more use to wait, ran outto pick up the birds.

  Only one bird had fallen when my uncle and I fired together, for Ibelieve I missed; but as Ebo and I picked up the result of ourexpedition here the sun rose, and in the bright light that came betweenthe trees we stood gazing in ecstasy at the lovely creatures.

  "Oh, uncle!"

  That was all I could say for some time.

  "I think it ought to be `Oh, Nat!'" he replied laughing. "Why, youyoung dog, what eyes you have! you got all the luck."

  "Oh no, uncle," I said laughing; "I shot with Ebo's eyes."

  "Then next time I'll do the same," he said.

  "But let's go and shoot some more," I said excitedly.

  "No, Nat, we shall get no more of these to-day. I suppose it will onlybe by hiding in the darkness beneath the trees they frequent that weshall have any success. They are wonderfully shy, and no wonder whenthey have such plumage to protect."

  I suppose most people have seen specimens of the great bird of paradise,but they can have no conception of the beauty of a freshly shot specimensuch as were two of those which I brought down. I felt as if I couldnever tire of gazing at the wonderful tinting of the bird, here of apale straw yellow with the feathers short and stiff like velvet, thereof a rich chocolate with the neck covered with scales of metallic green.Their tails seemed to have, in place of centre feathers, a couple oflong beautiful curving wires nearly a yard long; but the chief beauty ofthe birds was the great tuft of plumage which seemed to come out frombeneath the wings, light and soft, quite two feet long, and all of arich golden orange.

  It seems to me impossible to conceive a more lovely bird, and we tookthem in triumph to our hut, where we breakfasted, my uncle afterwardscarefully making skins of all four.

  The other two were evidently younger birds, and had not their fullplumage, but they were very beautiful and formed a splendid addition tothe collection.