First in the Field Part 40

"Yes, I thought it would be a native name."

Leather smiled.

"No, sir; 'kangaroo' is the blackfellows' way of saying 'I don't know what you mean.'"

"Could you show me where I could shoot one of those Blue Mountain parrots, Leather?" said Nic, after a pause, during which the boy stood thoughtful and wondering at his companion's change of manner.

"Oh yes, I think so, sir. There are plenty about."

"I haven't seen one for days; when I did I had no gun; and besides, I was not ready to stuff it."

"This is not a good time of day to look after them, sir; but I dare say you have pa.s.sed plenty."

"No--not one."

Leather smiled faintly.

"They are very quiet, like most birds in the heat of the day, and are sitting up among the leaves, huddled up and with their feathers all loose, so that you don't see the bright underpart, and their backs and sides are all green like the leaves. It wants practice to see them."

"When is the best time, then?"

"Early in the morning, when it is cool and fresh, and they are just off to feed. You hear them whistling and shrieking to each other then."

"But do you think you could show me one now?"

"I'll try if you like, sir," said Leather quietly. "One of the blacks would soon show you, but my eyes are not so well trained as theirs."

The man led on, and Nic followed on tiptoe, thinking of how different he was, and wondering why so strong a feeling of dislike to him had sprung up: why, too, a man of bad character and a convict should be able to speak so well and take so much interest in the things about him.

"You need not walk so carefully, sir," he said; "and you can talk. The birds will not fly off. They trust to their colours keeping them hidden. These sheep look well, sir."

"Yes," replied Nic, without glancing at the white-fleeced creatures feeding about, for he was thinking of the scene of the day before and felt afraid that Leather would allude to it.

But he did not, for he seemed disposed to talk quietly and respectfully of the different things about them as they went on through the openly wooded region for about a mile.

"Like honey, sir?" he said.

"Oh yes. Do people keep bees out here?"

"Well, sir," said Leather, smiling pleasantly, "Dame Nature does. There are plenty of wild bees. There's a nest up just above that fork."

He pointed to a spot about forty feet from the ground, where what appeared to be some flies were darting about a hole.

"Those are not bees," said Nic, gazing up at the place where the bark appeared to be split and a portion of the tree decayed.

"Yes, sir--Australian wild bees. They make plenty of delicious honey."

"Where you can't get at it!"

"Oh yes; a man who can climb would get it. The bark of these trees is soft and easily cut through."

"But the bees would sting him to death while he was doing it."

"If they could, sir; but these bees out here are harmless. I've seen the naked blacks climb up, with a piece of smouldering, smoking wood to drive the insects away, and then rob a nest. They would not have much protection from the insects if they were attacked."

"Well, no, not much," said Nic, laughing. "But the nests must be hard to find. You won't know that place again."

"Oh yes, sir," said Leather quietly, as he stood glancing up in the tree. "You see I brought you straight here. Besides, after seeing one of the blacks track the bees home it is very easy, for the country is so open. It is not like being in the dense scrub."

"How do they track them?" asked Nic.

"Catch a bee when it is busy in a flower, touch its back with a tiny speck of gum from one of the trees, and touch the gum with a tuft of that white silky wool--"; and he picked a sc.r.a.p from the seed-vessel of one of the trees.

"And what good does that do?" asked Nic.

"Good, sir? The white cotton is easily seen when the bee flies homeward, the black chasing it till perhaps he loses it. But he has got nearer to the nest, and he will do this again with other bees, till he comes at last to the place where the nest is."

"And did you find that nest so?"

"Yes," said Leather quietly. "I lost sight of the first bee about forty yards away; the next bee I missed too, but the last showed me the way at once. Now, then: look straight up there."

"Oh, I can see them flying in and out plainly enough," replied Nic.

"I was not talking about the bees then, sir. I mean away to the right a little, and a good fifty feet higher."

"Don't see anything, only the sun coming through like silver rain."

"To the right of that, sir, where the leaves are thickest. Now can you see?"

"I can see where the leaves are thickest, that's all. What am I to look at?"

"The paroquets."

"What?" cried Nic excitedly, as he gave himself an aching sensation in the back of the neck from the awkward position he a.s.sumed: "I can't see anything."

"Look again, sir. They are hard to see. I can count six together, and one which seems to be a handsome c.o.c.k bird, quite by itself."

"That's the one I want," said Nic in a whisper, as he c.o.c.ked his gun and stood peering up in the part indicated, but only to have his eyes dazzled by the rays which shot down from above.

"You see it now, sir?" said Leather quietly.

"Nor; nothing but leaves and twigs--nothing else. Are you sure you can see the birds?"

"Yes, sir, quite. My eyes are more used to this sort of thing than yours. I have been so much alone in the bush, often with no companions but the sheep or the blacks."

"And are they friendly to you?"

"Oh yes; in their way, sir."