After a little consultation in the morning it was decided to lead out a
strong well armed party to make sure whether the enemy was down by the
lagoon, for the state of uncertainty seemed worse than the danger likely
to be incurred in an advance and careful retreat. The mate determined
to go himself, and selecting four men with Smith and Wriggs they set
off, leaving Drew in charge of the ship.
The expedition proved to be quite uneventful, and the scouting party
were back soon after noon, having been right down to the shores of the
lagoon and searched it well from the highest point they could find
without there being a sign of a canoe.
From that day forward for quite two months, the occupants of the ship
ashore enjoyed perfect peace, and no sign was seen of an enemy. It was
evident that the natural childish fear and superstition of the blacks
had kept them away from the island, but all the same no fishing or
shooting excursion was ventured upon without the feeling that the party
might return to find the savages making a fresh attack, or being in
possession of the brig. Consequently no precautions could be relaxed on
board, and not a step was taken without every one being armed to the
teeth.
The change during that time had been wonderful. Vegetation was so rapid
in its growth, and seed spread so quickly, wind swept, that the traces
of the earthquake wave were pretty well obliterated by bright young
growth. Many of the pools had dried up, but four of the largest kept
fairly well filled with brackish water, evidently supplied by some
underground communication with the sea, possibly merely by slow
filtration through the porous coral rock, sufficient, however, to keep
them fit habitations for fish and reptiles.
On board the brig the carpenter with three aides worked hard at the
lugger being constructed. This was to be hauled down to the sand, and
then slowly taken down to the sea on rollers in a cradle specially
constructed for the purpose.
"Give us time," said Mr Rimmer, "and we'll have a light boat that will
take us from island to island till we get to some civilised port. But
first of all we must sail round where we are."
"There's no hurry," said Oliver, "but get the lugger done, and then make
another, for we shall want plenty of room for our specimens if we go on
like this."
For in spite of having to work as it were with one eye on the look-out
for danger, and the other for specimens, each of the three naturalists
rapidly increased his collection. Oliver Lane filled case after case
with series of the splendid paradise birds which came and went in the
most unaccountable manner. For days together they would be plentiful,
then for a whole week it seemed as if they had forsaken the island and
taken flight to some other spot invisible from the highest points to
which they had climbed, but known well to the birds.
And there the choice, carefully prepared skins lay in their cases, well
dried and aromatic with the preserving paste which kept insect enemies
at bay. Here would lie the great bird of Paradise, all cinnamon,
metallic green and buff, with its loose plumage and long wire-shafted
feathers. In another case a series of the lesser bird. Then Lane found
a few of the beautiful metallic rifle bird, all glossy purply green.
The standard wing with its elongated tufts of green upon its breast, and
from each shoulder a pair of long, gracefully curved, white
willow-leaved feathers standing almost straight out at times, while at
others they lay neatly down along with the larger quills.
Another day in his favourite hunting ground at the foot of the volcano
slope he had the good fortune to shoot a bird of which he had read and
never seen. It was the king bird of Paradise, monarch for its beauty
and not from its size.
Drew and Panton were out with him collecting, the one plants, the other
crystals, and running to him on hearing him whistling, they were ready
to laugh at his excitement over his one bird, a little fellow somewhere
about the size of a thrush, but with an exceedingly short tail balanced
by a couple of beautiful curled plumes at the end of their wire-like,
exquisitely curved feather, starting above the tail and crossing just at
its end.
But their ridicule soon turned into delight as they gazed at the
wondrous display of tints, beautifully blended, so that no two colours
jarred. But it was not only in its hues that there was so much
fascination to the eye, for all three gazed in wonder at the peculiar
appendages which added to the strangeness and beauty of this bird.
But there was no end to Oliver's bird treasures now, and knowing the
interest he took in the beautiful creatures, every man on board tried
his best to add to his stores by means of trap and gun, the mate
encouraging the use of the latter, so that the men might be quite at
home with it.
"Here y'are, sir," said Smith, "right sort, and nothing wrong in it,
'cept a spot o' blood on its back, over two o' the feathers. I was
going to pull 'em out and bring him quite clean, on'y you're so
perticler about every feather being there."
"How could it be perfect without?" said Oliver.
"Oh, I dunno, sir. Birds got so many feathers in 'em that nobody'd miss
fifty or sixty, let alone one or two. Why, many's the time I've seen
'em pick out lots themselves, specially ducks."
"I daresay," replied Oliver, "but don't you ever pick any out; I can
always wash away the blood."
"All right, sir, but ain't yer going to look at it, and what Billy
Wriggs got, too?"
"I will directly," replied Oliver. "Wait till I've turned this skin."
"Oh, yes, sir, we'll wait," said the sailor, and he dropped the butt of
his gun to the earth, and stood holding a bird he had shot, while Oliver
was seated by an upturned cask, whose head formed a table just under the
brig's bows, where, with a large piece of canvas rigged to a stay, he
worked in shelter, skinning his specimens for hours in the early morning
and late evening.
"Looks gashly nasty, now, sir," said the man, after a few minutes'
watching, while Oliver carefully painted over the wet, soft,
newly-stripped-off skin of a bird with the aromatic poisonous cream he
had in a pot. Now the bristles of the brush sought out every crease and
hollow about where the flesh-denuded bones of the wings hung by their
tendons; then the bones of the legs were painted, the young man intent
upon his work--too much so to look up when the two sailors came round
from the other side of the vessel. Now the brush ran carefully along
the skin, so as not to smirch the feathers at the edge; now it was
passed along the thin stretched neck and up to the skull, which had been
left whole all but the back, where brains and eyeballs had been
carefully extracted, leaving nothing but the paper-like bone of
wondrously delicate texture and strength. Here the brush was sedulously
applied with more and more cream, which shed a pleasant odour around.
"Pyson, ain't it, sir?" said Wriggs, at last.
"Yes, my man, dangerously poisonous," said Oliver, as he worked away.
"Wouldn't do to set me that job, sir," said Smith.
"Why not? You could soon learn."
"'Cause I got a bad habit, sir."
"Lots!" said Wriggs, laconically.
"Here, don't you be so jolly fond o' running down your messmate, Bill.
'Course I've got lots a' bad habits--everybody has--don't s'pose I got
more more nor you, mate."
"Dessay not, Tommy," said Wriggs, with a chuckle.
"What I meant was as I've got a bad habit a' poppin' my fingers in my
mouth every now and then, when I'm doin' anythin', so as to get a better
hold. Some chaps spit in their hands--Billy here does, sir."
"Ay, mate, that's a true word," growled Wriggs.
"Well, that's a deal nastier than just wettin' the tips o' your fingers,
ain't it? Would it hurt me if I did, sir?"
"Most likely be very dangerous," said Oliver, as he busily tucked some
cotton wool into the cavities of the eyes, and then into the empty
skull.
"What's he doin' that for, Tommy?" whispered Wriggs.
"Stuffin' on it to keep the skin from s'rivellin', mate. Can't yer
see?"
"Yes, that's it," said Oliver, as he worked away. Then, laying the wing
bones together, so as to keep them a short distance apart, he proceeded
to bind a little of the cotton fibre round the leg bones before wiping
his fingers, carefully feeling for the bird's claws, and drawing them
out from among the soft feathers where they nestled, and restoring the
skin to its place so that it fitted well over the wool.
"Look at that, now, Billy. There y'are, regular pair o' natural legs
again. Wonderful thing, bird-stuffing! Hope we don't worry you, sir,
talkin'."
"Oh no, talk away," said Oliver smiling, as he made up a little
egg-shaped ball of cotton wool of the size of the bird's body, which
dangled upon a hook at the end of a string. And then he took a pinch of
the wool, doubled it, and thrust the doubled part into the skull,
leaving enough to form the bird's neck, followed up with the loose
egg-shaped pad which he laid upon the tied together wing bones, and
then, with a clever bit of manipulation, drew the skin over the pad,
gave the bird a bit of a shake, and, as if it had been some conjuring
trick, every feather came back into its right place, and to all
appearances there lay a dead bird before him on the head of the cask.
"Three cheers and a hextra hooray!" cried Smith. "Ain't that wonderful,
Billy? You and me couldn't ha' made a bird like that."
"No," said Oliver, laughing, "and I couldn't have furled the
main-topgallant sail like you two could."
"Well, sir, that's true enough," said Smith; "but if you wouldn't mind
me astin', `What's the good o' pysonin' a bird when it's dead?'"
"I don't," said Oliver, as he busily smoothed feathers and fitted the
bird's folded wings close to its sides, giving a pinch them in their
here and a pinch there before confining places by rolling a strip of
paper round, and fastening it with a pin.
"What I do is to poison the skin, so that it may be fatal to any
mischievous insect that might wish to eat it, and make the feathers fall
out."
"Why o' course, Tommy," growled Wriggs, "anybody could ha' know'd that."
"You didn't, Billy," said Smith shortly.
"Well, I can't say as I did quite, mate, but I do now, and I shan't
never forget it. But what's he doin' o' that for? It won't ketch cold
now."
"No," said Oliver, laughing, as he fitted a little cone of paper on the
bird's head by thrusting it with the beak right down to the end. "That
paper cap is to hold the bird's head well down upon its shoulders, so
that it may dry in a natural shape. Birds' necks fold so that they
always look very short."
"And what bird may that be, sir?" said Wriggs.
"A pitta--or ground thrush."
"A mercy on us!" said Smith. "It's a wonderful place this. Thrushes at
home is all browny speckly birds, and this here's blue and green."
"Yes, birds have brilliant plumage here, my lads. Now, then, what have
you got for me? Anything good?"
"Well, that's for you to say, sir. Now then, Billy, out with yours
first."
"Nay, let's see yours first, matey."
"Come, come, I'm busy. We're going for a fresh excursion to-day. Now
then, Wriggs, what is it?"
"It's a little squirmy wormy thing as he ketched, sir, just as it come
outer its hole to curl up in the sunshine. Pull it out, Billy. He's
got it in his pocket, sir."
Wriggs slowly thrust in his hand and drew out a little thin snake, which
moved slightly as he laid it on the table.
"He says it's a wurm, sir," put in Smith, "I says it's a young
come-structor."
"What's that?" cried Oliver in a startled way. "Nonsense, it is full
grown."
"Couldn't ha' took long growing to that size, sir," said Smith,
grinning, as he held the bird he had shot behind him.
"But, my good fellows, don't you know that this is a very dangerous
viper?"
"What, that?" said Wriggs contemptuously, "there ain't nothin' on him."
"There isn't much of a wasp," said Oliver, "but his sting is poisonous
enough."
"That's true, sir, specially it you gets it near yer eye. But you don't
mean to say as that little chap's got a sting in his tail?"
"Absurd! Vipers have poisonous fangs--two."
"What, in their tails, sir?"
"No, man, in the roof of the mouth. I'll show you."
"But do you mean as that chap would ha' bit us and stung us, sir?" said
Wriggs anxiously.
"Of course I do, and you've had a very close shave. How did you kill
it?"
"Well, sir, he wouldn't let us kill him, but kep' on wrigglin' arter
Billy here had trod on his tail, and we didn't want to quite scrunch
him, because you're so partickler. He got a bit quiet, though, arter a
time, and then Billy nipped him at the back o' the head and put him in
his pocket."
"Look here, when you find a snake with a diamond-shaped head like that,
you may be pretty certain that it is venomous."
The two sailors scratched their heads in unison while Oliver turned the
little viper's head over, opened its mouth, and made it gape widely by
placing a little bone stiletto which he used in skinning the smaller
birds within, and then with the point of a penknife he raised two tiny
fangs which were laid back on the roof of the reptile's mouth, and
which, when erect, looked like points of glass.
"There!" he exclaimed, "those are the poison fangs. They're hollow and
connected with a couple of exceedingly small glands or bags of poison,
which shoot a couple of tiny drops of venom through the hollow teeth
when they are pressed by the animal biting."
"But you don't call that 'ere a hanimal, sir?" said Smith, as he wiped
the perspiration from his forehead.
"What is it, then?" said Oliver, laughingly quoting from an old book--"a
vegetable?"
"Well, no, sir, but it does look some'at like a sort o' liquorice stick
as the boys used to buy to chew when we went to school."
"It looks more like what it is," said Oliver, "a very dangerous viper,
and I warn you both to be very careful about meddling with such things
again."
"But you see it was such a little 'un, sir," said Wriggs,
apologetically.
"None the less dangerous, and you've had a very narrow escape," said
Oliver. Then noting the men's disappointed looks, he continued--
"But I'm very grateful to you all the same. It was very thoughtful of
you, Wriggs, and I am glad to have it to add to my collection."
"Then you won't chuck it away, sir?" said Wriggs, brightening up.
"Throw it away--a rare specimen of a poisonous snake? Most decidedly
not. I shall put it in my tin of spirit, and preserve it carefully."
"Seems most a pity to waste good liquor on such a wicious little beggar,
don't it, sir?"
"By no means," said Oliver, smiling. "There, I hope I shall have the
pleasure of showing it to one of our best zoologists. Now, Smith, let's
have a look at yours."
"Well, yes, sir," said the man addressed, as he still kept his hand
behind him. "You may as well see it now. Me and Billy here seed my
gentleman three or four mornin's ago."
"Four, Tommy. Allus make yer knots tight."
"Weer it four, Billy? All right, then, four mornin's ago, just as it
was gettin' light, an' I says to him, I says, `Now that's just the sort
o' bird as Muster Oliver Lane would like to have to stuff,' didn't I,
Billy?"
"Well, it warn't quite in them there words, Tommy, but it meant that
'ere."
"Don't you be so nation perticler about a heff or a gee, messmate. If
it meant what I says, wheer's the harm?"
"Allus speak the truth, Tommy. Allus speak the truth," growled Wriggs.
"Come, come, I want to see my bird," said Oliver. "Go on, Smith."
"That's just what I wants to do, sir, on'y Billy Wriggs here he is such
a haggravatin' beggar. If yer don't speak your words to half a quarter
of a hinch, he's down on yer."
Wriggs chuckled, and his messmate went on, but frowned and scowled at
him all the time.
"Well, sir, I hups with my gun to shoot him, for Mr Rimmer says we're
never to go about anywhere now without loaded guns 'cause of the
hinjuns--but bless your 'art, afore you could say `Fire' he was off over
the trees, and I was that aggrawated as never was, for he was a fine
'un."
"There, what did I say, Tommy?" growled Wriggs. "Let him have it all."
"Look-ye here, messmate, are you a-goin' to tell the story, or am I?"
"Well, you'd better go on, Tommy, as you began it, on'y you gets
driftin' to the lee so, instead o' sailin' ahead."
"Look here, you'd better do it yoursen," cried Smith.
"No, no, go on, man," said Oliver.
"All right, sir," grumbled Smith. "Well, Billy Wriggs says as he was
sure he come there to feed of a morning, and pick up the wurms, and that
if we got up early and waited there, we should see my gentleman again.
So we says nothin' to nobody, did we, Billy?"
"Not a word, messmate."
"And gets there very early nex' morning, but he'd got there afore us,
and _Chuck_, he says, and away he went, 'fore I'd time to think o'
shootin' at him. But never mind, I says, I will be ready for yer
to-morrer mornin', and we gets there much sooner, and waited in the
dark. We hadn't been there more'n a minute before we know'd he'd been
afore us, for we could hear him querking an' cherking to himself all in
a low tone, just as if he was a-saying, `There's a couple o' chaps
hangin' about to get a look at my feathers, and I just aren't goin' to
let 'em.'"
"Yes, it were just like that," said Wriggs, giving his head an approving
nod.
"Ay, it weer, Billy, and my heye, sir, how we two did try to get a
glimpse of him. But bless yer 'art, sir, it was that dark as never was.
He didn't mind, for we could hear him flickin' about in the trees, and
flying down on the ground, and then makin' quite a flutter as he went up
again, and talkin' to hissen all the time about us."
"You're a long time getting to the shooting, Smith," said Oliver.
"That's a true word, sir. We was, for it got light at last, and both me
and Billy had our guns ready to pop off, but he warn't there then. Not
a sign of him. Oh, he was a hartful one! He knowed what we was up to,
and he goes and gets there in the middle o' the night, has what he
wants, and then off he goes all quiet like before we could see."
"But you did shoot it at last?"
"Ay, sir, I did, but not that mornin', which was yesterday, you know.
For, Billy, I says, this here game won't do."
"Ay, you did, Tommy."
"You and me ain't goin' to be done by a big cock-sparrer sort o' thing,
is we? and he says we warn't, and we'll keep on earlier and earlier till
we do get him."
"Well, and what did you do?" asked Oliver, smiling.
"Goes in the middle o' the night, sir, to be sure, and there we was as
quiet as could be; but we didn't hear nothin' till just afore sunrise,
when there was a _cherk, cherk_, and a bit of flutterin' just as we was
makin' up our minds as he was too artful for us. Billy, he gives me a
nudge and shoves up the gun and takes aim."
"But you couldn't see the bird?" said Oliver.
"No, sir, not yet, but I wanted to be ready so as to get a shot at him
the moment he showed hissen, and then if I didn't recklect as I hadn't
loaded the gun arter giving it a good clean up yes'day, 'cause it were
getting rusty."
"That's so, and I did mine, too," said Wriggs.
"You might ha' knocked me down with a feather, sir," continued Smith.
"Nay, nay, speak the truth, Tommy," growled Wriggs, reprovingly. "No
feather as ever growed wouldn't knock you down."
"Will you be quiet, Billy Wriggs? Who's to tell the gentleman if you
keep a-sticking your marlin-spike in where it aren't wanted?"
"Come, come, I want to see my bird," cried Oliver, who was amused by the
sailor's long-winded narrative. "If it takes so much time to shoot one
bird, how long would it take to shoot a flock?"
"Ah! I dunno, sir," said Smith, solemnly.
"But you got this one?"
"Ay, sir, I did."
"We did, Tommy! speak the truth."
"Well, _we_ did, then. I shot him, sir, and Billy goes in among the
bushes and picked him up."
"Gettin' scratched awfully," growled Wriggs.
"Then you did shoot it," said Oliver, "without powder or shot?"
"Nay, sir, I lowered the gun down, shoved in a fresh cartridge, and
waited like a stone statty."
"Two stone stattys," said Wriggs, solemnly. "Speak the truth."
"Yes, sir, neither on us moved, and I don't think as we breathed for
ever so long, till it humbugged that there bird so as he couldn't stand
it no longer, and he bobs right up on to a high bough so as to peep over
and see whether we was there."
"And were you?"
"Yes, sir," said Smith, very solemnly, "we was, and he soon knowed it,
for bang says my gun, down he come. Billy, as I says afore, goes and
picks him up."
"Yes," said Oliver, laughing; "and after all that long rigmarole, I
suppose it is something I don't want. Now, then, don't keep it behind
you like that. Let's see what it's like. Come, don't be so childish."
"All right, sir," said Smith, giving his companion a wink, and then with
a flourish he swung round a shapely-looking Pitta--a hen-bird of very
sober plumage--and banged it down on the head of the cask.
"Well, upon my word," cried Oliver, indignantly. "Here have you two
chaps kept me all this time spinning a miserable yarn about a bird that
I began to hope was a fine specimen worth having, and then you bring out
this!"
"Yes, sir, won't it do?" said Smith, winking at Wriggs once more.
"There, be off with you, and take the rubbishing thing away," cried
Oliver, wrathfully. "All your cock and bull story about that."
"Yes, sir," cried Smith, with a peculiar chuckle and a wink at Wriggs;
"but that there warn't the one."
As he spoke, Smith very carefully and slowly brought his hand round
again, holding a bird in the most perfect plumage suspended by a thin
ring of brass wire, which had been thrust through the nostrils, and
Oliver uttered a cry of joy.
"Ahoy, Drew! Panton! come here, quick!"
"What's up?" came from the deck, and as there was the hurried sound of
feet, the two sailors nodded and winked and gave each his leg a slap.
"What is it?" cried Panton, eagerly, as he ran to where his brother
naturalist stood gloating over his treasure.
"A gem! A gem!" cried Oliver.
"Then, that's in my way, not yours," said Panton. "My word, what a
beauty! That's quite fresh."
"To me, but I know what it is. The Golden Paradise bird. Isn't it
exquisite? Look at its colours and the crest."
"That's what took my attention first of all," said Drew, who had now
joined them, and they all three gloated over the wonderful specimen
which glowed with intense colours. There were no long loose flowing
buff plume; for the bird was short and compact, its principal decoration
being six oval feathers at the end of as many thin wire-like pens, three
growing crest-like out of each side of its head. The whole of its
throat and breast were covered with broad scale-like feathers of
brilliant metallic golden hue, looking in the sunshine like the dazzling
throat of a humming bird vastly magnified; while, seen in different
lights, these golden scales changed in hue like the plumes of a peacock,
becoming purple or green. A pure satiny white patch glistened
conspicuously on the front of the head, before the place whence the six
cresting feathers sprang. This covering stood out the more strongly
from the fact that at first sight the bird appeared to be of a dense
black, but at the slightest movement it glowed with bronze metallic
blue, and an indescribable tint, such as is sometimes seen in
freshly-broken sulphur and iron ore.
For some moments no one spoke, and with tender touches Oliver turned his
bird here and there, so that the sun should play upon its glistening
plumage at different angles. Now he was carefully raising some feather
which was slightly out of place, now raising the six crest feathers
through his hand, and bending over it as if it were the most glorious
object he had ever seen.
"Seems a sin to attempt to skin it," said Oliver at last. "I shall
never get those feathers to look so smooth again."
"Oh, yes, you will. Go on," said Panton, "and get it done. The weather
soon makes a change."
"Yes, I must carefully preserve this," cried Oliver; and Drew sighed.
"I've worked pretty hard," he said, "but I have found nothing to compare
with that in rarity or beauty."
"Then you think it'll do, sir?" said Smith, with his face shining with
pleasure.
"Do, my man! I can never be grateful enough to you both for finding
it."
"Worth long rigmarole, eh, sir?" said Wriggs with a chuckle.
"It's worth anything to a naturalist, my man."
"What is?" said Mr Rimmer, coming up; and the bird was held up for his
inspection.
"Another kind of bird of Paradise?" he said.
"Yes, isn't it lovely?"
"Very, gentlemen, but I want to talk to you about launching our lugger,
she's getting well on toward being ready."
"Ready?" said Oliver. "Oh yes, of course. But don't hurry, Mr Rimmer,
we shan't be ready to go for some time yet."
"Mean it?" said Rimmer, smiling.
"Mean it!" cried Oliver, looking up from his bird. "Why, you don't
suppose we can go away from a place where such specimens as this are to
be had. I can't."
"No," said Panton, quietly, "since I got better I have been finding such
a grand series of minerals that I must stay if I possibly can. What do
you say, Drew?"
"It would be madness to hurry away."
"And what about the niggers?" said Mr Rimmer, who looked amused.
"They haven't worried us lately."
"But the volcano? Really, gentlemen, I never feel safe from one day to
another. I am always expecting to see the earth open and swallow us
up."
"Yes, we are in a doubtful position," said Panton, thoughtfully, "and
never know what may happen, living as we are, over fire."
"And hot water," said the mate, smiling. "One of the men has just found
a little spring, where the water spurts up at boiling point."
"Well," said Panton, "it will be convenient. There, Mr Rimmer, get
your lugger launched, and we'll explore the coast, but don't say
anything about our going away for months to come, for we must make some
more efforts to get right up to the crater edge before we give up.
Besides, we have not half examined the land yet."
"No," said the mate, "we have not half examined the land yet. Very
well, gentlemen, you came on purpose for this sort of thing, so it's not
for me to say any more. I'm anchored pretty safely, that is, if the
earth don't give way, and let the brig through. I'll, as I've said
before, get my lugger finished and launched. She'll lie snugly enough
in the deepest part of the lagoon if the blacks will keep away, and I
shall gradually load and provision her, ready for when we have to go
will that do?"
"Yes, splendidly," said Oliver. "There, don't say any wore about it,
please, for I want to skin my bird."