I said very little to my uncle about my alarm, feeling sure that he
would laugh very heartily at my mistake, but I lay awake for some little
while thinking that it was time I grew to be more manly and brave, and
not so ready to be frightened at everything I could not directly
understand. It seemed so shocking, too, for I might in my cowardly fear
have shot poor Ebo, who was one of the best and truest of fellows, and
seemed never so happy as when able to do something for me.
My last thoughts before I went to sleep were that I hoped I might grow
into a brave and true man, and I determined to try hard not to be such a
weak coward.
I have often thought since, though, that if any ordinary man had been
placed in the same situation he would have been as nervous as I; for to
awake out of a deep sleep in a dark forest in a wild land, where
dangerous beasts might be lurking, to hear a peculiar rustling noise,
and through the faint light to make out the figure of the black, looking
big and indistinct as he crept on all-fours, was, to put it as you may,
very startling.
I was ready enough to laugh at all the dread when I awoke in the morning
to find the sun just up, and sending his rays through the long vistas of
trees, where the birds were whistling, twittering, and screaming loudly,
while every now and then from a distance came the hoarse cry of the
birds of paradise.
"It is terribly tempting, Nat," said my uncle, "but I think we had
better make straight for camp and get a good breakfast before we do
anything else. Hallo! what is Ebo doing?"
"Making up the fire," I said; and directly the black had thrown on a
great armful of dead wood he came to us laughing and rubbing the front
of his person, squeezing himself in to show how empty he was, after
which he picked up a stick, took aim at a bird, said "_Bop_!" and ran to
pick it up; coming back laughing for us to applaud his performance.
"Well, Nat, that's a piece of dumb-show that says very plainly we are to
shoot some birds for breakfast before we do anything else, and it would
perhaps be wise, so come along; there are some of our old friends in
that great palm-tree."
I followed my uncle closely, and we had no difficulty in shooting three
of the great pigeons, which Ebo pounced upon and carried off in triumph,
and in a few minutes they were roasting upon sticks, while our black
cook busied himself in climbing a cocoa-tree, from which he detached
half a dozen nuts, each of which came down with a tremendous thud.
I was terribly hungry, but Uncle Dick said we should be worse if we
stopped there smelling the roasting pigeons. So we took our guns and
went across an opening to where there was tree after tree, rising some
thirty or forty feet high, all covered with beautiful white
sweet-scented starry flowers, each with a tube running up from it like
that of a jasmine.
All about this beautiful little birds were flitting, and as we watched
them for some time I could see their feathers flash and glitter in the
sunshine, as if some wore tiny helmets of burnished gold and
breastplates of purple glittering scales. No colours could paint the
beauty of these lovely little creatures, which seemed to be of several
different kinds, for some had patches of scarlet, of orange, blue, and
white to add to the brilliancy of their feathering; and so little used
were they to the sight of man that they seemed to pay no attention to
us, but allowed us to go very close, so that we could see them flit and
hover and balance themselves before the sweet-scented starry
bell-flowers, into whose depths they thrust their long thin beaks after
the honey and insects that made them their home.
I soon learned from my uncle that they were the sun-birds, the tiny
little fellows that were in the Old World what the humming-birds were in
the New, for there are no humming-birds in the East.
Following Uncle Dick's example, I took the shot out of my gun, for he
said that the concussion and the wad would be sufficient to bring them
down. But, somehow, we were so interested in what we saw that neither
of us thought of firing, and there we stood watching the glittering
feathers, the graceful motions, and the rapidity with which these tiny
birds seemed to flash from blossom to blossom, till a loud yell from Ebo
summoned us to breakfast.
"Yes, Nat," said my uncle, who seemed to read my thoughts, "that is the
way to see the beauty of the sun-birds. No stuffed specimens of ours
will ever reproduce a hundredth part of their beauty; but people cannot
always come from England to see these things. Take care! What's that?"
We were going through rather a dense patch of undergrowth, where the
ground beneath was very soft and full of water, evidently from some
boggy springs. There was a great deal of cane and tall grass, with
water weeds of a most luxuriant growth, and the place felt hot and
steamy as we forced our way through, till, as I was going first and
parting the waving canes right and left with my gun barrel, I stepped
upon what seemed to be a big branch of a rotten tree that had fallen
there, when suddenly I felt myself lifted up a few inches and jerked
back, while at the same moment the canes and grass crashed and swayed,
and something seemed to be in violent motion.
"Is it an earthquake, uncle?" I said, looking aghast at the spot from
whence had been jerked.
"Yes, Nat, and there it goes. Fire, boy, fire!"
He took rapid aim a little to the left, where the canes and broad-leaved
plants were swaying to and fro in a curious way, just as if, it seemed
then, a little pig was rushing through, and following his example I
fired in the same direction.
But our shots seemed to have no effect, and whatever it was dashed off
into a thicker part, where it was too swampy to follow even if we had
been so disposed.
"Your earthquake has got away for the present, Nat," said my uncle.
"Did you see it?"
"No, uncle," I said.
"But you must have trodden upon it, and it threw you back."
"No, uncle; I trod upon the trunk of a small tree, that was all."
"You trod upon a large serpent, Nat, my boy," he exclaimed.
"Ugh!" I ejaculated; and I made a jump back on to more solid ground.
"The danger has passed now, Nat," he said, smiling at my dread; "but
really I could not have believed such a creature existed in so small an
island."
"Oh, uncle!" I cried, "I shall never like to go about again for fear of
treading upon another."
"You will soon get over that, Nat, and perhaps we may have the luck to
shoot the brute. I don't think we did it much mischief this time,
though I got a good sight of it as it glided amongst the canes."
"Why, we had no shot in our guns, uncle," I cried; "we took them out so
as not to knock the sun-birds about too much."
"Of course!" cried my uncle. "How foolish of me not to remember this!"
We had both reloaded now, and then, without heeding a shout from Ebo, we
stood looking in the direction taken by the reptile, though now all the
luxuriant canes and grasses were quite still.
"What do you say, Nat?" said my uncle. "Shall we follow the monster and
try and shoot it?"
"It must be forty or fifty feet long, uncle," I said, feeling a curious
creeping sensation run through me.
"Forty or fifty nonsenses, my boy!" he said, laughing. "Such serpents
as that only exist in books. They rarely exceed twenty feet where they
are largest. That fellow would not be fifteen. What do you say--will
you come?"
"Ye-es, uncle," I said hesitatingly, feeling hot and cold by turns.
"Why, Nat," he said quietly, "you are afraid!" I did not speak for a
moment or two, but felt the hot blood flush into my face as I stood
there looking him full in the eyes, and unable to withdraw my gaze.
"Yes, uncle," I said at last. "I did not want to be, but a serpent is
such a horrible thing, and I am afraid."
"Yes, it is a horrible monster, Nat," he said quietly. "I don't like
them myself, but if we could kill it--"
"I can't help feeling afraid, uncle," I said, "but I'm ready to go on
now."
"What! to attack it, Nat?"
"Yes, uncle."
"It will be rather dangerous, my boy."
"Yes, uncle," I said. "I suppose so; but I want to get over being so
afraid of things. I'm quite ready now."
I looked to him to come on at once, but he did not move, and stood
looking at me for some minutes without speaking.
"Then we will go and attack the brute, Nat," he said; "but it will not
go away from that bit of a swamp, so we will try and put a little more
nerve into our hearts with a good breakfast, and then have Ebo to help
us, unless he proves to be a worse coward than you."
"He could not be, uncle," I said pitifully; and I felt very, very
miserable.
"Oh! yes, he could be, Nat, my boy," said my uncle, smiling, and
grasping me affectionately by the arm. "You are a coward, Nat, but you
fought with your natural dread, mastered it, and are ready to go and
attack that beast. Master Ebo may be a coward and not fight with and
master his dread. So you see the difference, my boy."
Another shout from the black made us hasten our steps to where he was
dancing about and pointing to the crisp brown pigeons, big as chickens,
with great green leaves for plates, and the new ripe cocoa-nuts divested
of their husks; but for a few moments I could not eat for thinking of
the serpent. My fresh young appetite asserted itself though soon after,
and, forgetting the danger to come, I made one of the most delicious of
meals.