Nat the Naturalist Part 40

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

I tried to follow it but could see nothing, and I was thinking how much better a savage's sight was than ours, when from out of the darkness there came the hoa.r.s.e "_Hawk, hawk, hawk; quok, quok, quok_," and as the cry seemed to direct my eye, I fancied that I could see something moving slightly at a very great height, bowing and strutting like a pigeon. I looked and looked again and could not see it; then a star that was peeping through the leaves seemed to be suddenly hidden, and there was the movement again.

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

The flash from my gun seemed to cut the blackness, and the report went echoing 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 for what 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 more shots for some time; but all the same 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 the tree.

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

But I recalled how accurate Ebo had been before, and once more taking aim, making it the more careful by leaning my gun barrel against the trunk of the tree, I fired; there was a quick rustle of leaves and twigs, 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 that I 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 there was a heavy fall through the branches, and then as if by magic it seemed to be daylight, and I saw several big birds dotted about the tree.

Uncle d.i.c.k and I fired together, and then came a rush of wings as another bird fell, the loud cries being repeated from a distance; while Ebo, evidently considering that it was of no more use to wait, ran out to pick up the birds.

Only one bird had fallen when my uncle and I fired together, for I believe I missed; but as Ebo and I picked up the result of our expedition here the sun rose, and in the bright light that came between the 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, you young 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 only be by hiding in the darkness beneath the trees they frequent that we shall have any success. They are wonderfully shy, and no wonder when they 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 specimen such as were two of those which I brought down. I felt as if I could never tire of gazing at the wonderful tinting of the bird, here of a pale straw yellow with the feathers short and stiff like velvet, there of a rich chocolate with the neck covered with scales of metallic green.

Their tails seemed to have, in place of centre feathers, a couple of long beautiful curving wires nearly a yard long; but the chief beauty of the birds was the great tuft of plumage which seemed to come out from beneath the wings, light and soft, quite two feet long, and all of a rich golden orange.

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

The other two were evidently younger birds, and had not their full plumage, but they were very beautiful and formed a splendid addition to the collection.

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

BEAUTIES IN PLUME.

Our work done, my uncle decided that we should stay here for a couple of days at least, even if we did not afterwards come round to this side of the island, for our good fortune was not yet at an end. In taking a look round, towards mid-day we heard a harsh cry, and by means of a little stalking Uncle d.i.c.k got within shot and brought down a bird that was almost as beautiful as those we shot before daylight.

This had shorter plumes of a rich red, but it had two long double curved wires in its tail, and its upper plumage was more plush-like and richer in its colours. The metallic green was more vivid, the golden yellow a colour which was most bright upon its neck and shoulders.

Almost directly after I shot a big dull brown bird which gave me no satisfaction at all; but Uncle d.i.c.k was delighted, saying that it was the female bird of the kind we had shot, and we decided that it was the red bird of paradise.

Even then we had not come to the end of our good fortune, for after pa.s.sing over hundreds of sun-birds, pittas, and trogons, such as we should have been only too glad to meet a short time back, my uncle suddenly raised his gun and fired at what seemed to be, from where I stood, a couple of st.u.r.dy-looking starlings.

One fell, and Uncle d.i.c.k shouted to me as the second bird came in my direction.

I made a quick shot at it just as it was darting among some bushes, and brought it down, and on running to pick it up I found that I had shot something entirely fresh to me.

"Well done, Nat!" cried my uncle. "Mine is only the hen bird. What a lovely little creature, to be sure! It is a gem."

"What is it, uncle?" I said.

"Evidently a paradise bird, my boy."

It was a curious little short-tailed fellow, but wonderful in its colours; while from the centre of the dumpy tail sprang two wires of about six inches long, which formed two flat spiral curls at the end, and of a most intense green. Instead of the long plumes of the birds we shot before--birds three times the size of this--it had under each wing a little tuft of grey, tipped with green, which the bird could set up like tiny tans. The whole of the upper surface was of a rich red, and the under part of a glistening floss-silky or gla.s.s-thready white, but relieved here and there with bands and patches of metallic green. There were shades of orange crimson here, and when I add that the bird's legs were of a delicious blue, and its beak of orange yellow like a blackbird's, you can realise how beautiful a creature I had shot.

"There, Nat," said my uncle, "we will do no more, only carefully preserve the treasures we have got."

But hardly had he spoken before he fired again and brought down another bird, which was again a wonder. It seemed about the size of the last, but was entirely different, though sufficiently similar to mark it as a paradise bird. It had nearly as short a tail, with the two central wires crossed, but instead of forming the beautiful curves of the other with the flat disc at the end, these wires ended in a point and curled round so as to form a circle. The prevailing colours were orange, buff, and yellow, but its great peculiarity was a couple of ruffs or capes of feathers hanging from the back of its neck, the upper one of a pale yellow, the lower of a reddish-brown.

Uncle d.i.c.k was in as great a state of delight as I, and our pleasure seemed to be reflected upon Ebo, who showed his satisfaction at having brought us to the place, by shouldering his spear and striding up and down with one hand upon his hip, as if proud of his position as companion of the white man.

The time glided by very fast during our stay at the island, where we found plenty of fruit, as many fish as we liked to catch, and abundance of large pigeons and other birds to help our larder. The climate was hot, but the breezes that came from the sea always seemed to modify the heat and make it bearable. Several storms occurred, during which the trees bent before the fury of the blast, and the waves piled the sands high with weeds and sh.e.l.ls. The lightning was terrific and the thunder deafening. At times it was awful, and a curious scared feeling used at first to come over me. But I soon grew used to the storms, and as they were soon over, took but little notice of them, except to enjoy the delicious freshness of the air that seemed afterwards to make everything ten times more beautiful than it was before.

It would become wearisome if I kept on writing of the beauty of the different varieties of the birds of paradise we found, and the lovely tinting and arrangement of their plumes; let it be sufficient when I tell you that scarcely a day pa.s.sed without Ebo finding some fresh specimen for us to shoot, and then dancing round with the delight of a boy as we skinned and preserved the new treasure. Sometimes we had a beetle day, sometimes a b.u.t.terfly day, collecting the loveliest specimens; but birds formed our princ.i.p.al pursuit, and our cases began to present a goodly aspect as we packed in carefully the well-dried aromatic skins.

I had had one or two more slight touches of fever, and my uncle was poorly once, but he so skilfully treated us both that the disease was soon mastered, and the trouble pa.s.sed over. Taken altogether, though, we found the island, in spite of the heat, a most delightful place of residence, and it was with feelings of real regret that I sat in our swift boat one day with the big sail set, skimming over the smooth sea, all our stores on board, and Uncle d.i.c.k at the helm steering due north, for we had bidden the beautiful island farewell, and its sh.o.r.es were beginning to grow distant to our eyes.

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

EBO DOES NOT APPROVE OF NEW GUINEA FOR REASONS THAT APPEAR.

It did not seem to matter to Ebo where we went so long as he was with us. He must have been a man of five-and-thirty, and he was brave as a lion--as the lion is said to be in the story, for in reality he is a great sneak--but Ebo seemed to have the heart of a boy. He was ready to laugh when I did, and sit by me when I was ill or tired, his face full of sympathy, and no sooner was I better than it was the signal for a triumphal dance.

Ebo was as happy now as could be. It did not matter to him where we were going, and he laughed and chattered and pointed out the fish to me as we skimmed over the shallow water of the coral reefs, sometimes approaching islands whose names we did not know, and which were apparently too small to be down in the chart; but whatever temptations they might hold out my uncle steered right on due north, and on the evening of the second day there was land stretching east and west as far as we could see.

"Now, Nat," he cried, "where is your geography? what place is that?"

"I should say it must be New Guinea, uncle," I said.

"Quite right, my boy. Hallo! what's the matter with Ebo?"

That gentleman had been lying down in the bottom of the boat fast asleep for the past three hours, as he was to sit up and bear me company through a part of the night; but having woke up and caught sight of the land he seemed to have become furious.