Our injuries soon grew better, but though we kept on sailing for days
and days past the most tempting-looking spots, we never dared to land,
for always as soon as we neared some gloriously-wooded track, all hill,
dale, and mountain, and amidst whose trees the glasses showed us plenty
of birds, the inhabitants began to cluster on the shore, and when once
or twice my uncle said that we would go in nearer and see, the same
custom was invariably observed: the people came shouting and dancing
about the beach holding out birds and bunches of feathers and shells,
making signs for us to land.
There was no need for Ebo to grow excited and cry, "No--no! man-kill!
man-kill!" for my uncle laughed and shook his head.
"They must try another way of baiting their traps, Nat," he would cry
laughing. "My head is too sore with blows and memories to be caught
again."
It was always the same. No sooner did the treacherous savages find that
we would not land than they rushed to their canoes, and began to pursue
us howling and yelling; but the swift-sailed boat was always ready to
leave them far behind, and we were only too glad to find that the
pleasant brisk breezes stood our friends.
"I would not loiter here, Nat," he said, "amidst such a treacherous,
bloodthirsty set, but the great island is so tempting that I long for a
ramble amongst its forests. I know that there are plenty of wonderful
specimens to be obtained here. New kinds of paradise birds,
butterflies, and beetles, and other attractions that it would be a sin
not to obtain."
"Perhaps we shall find a place by and bye where there are no
inhabitants, uncle," I said.
"That is what I have been hoping for days," he replied; and not long
after we sailed round a headland into a beautiful bay with the whitest
of sand, trees clustering amidst the lovely yellow stone cliffs, and a
bright stream of water flowing through a gorge and tumbling over two or
three little barriers of rocks before losing itself in the calm waters
of the bay.
Some six or seven miles back was a high ridge of mountains, which seemed
to touch the sea to east and west, cutting off as it were a narrow strip
from the mainland, and this strip, some fifteen miles long and six wide
at its greatest, was fertile in the extreme.
"Why, Nat," cried my uncle, "this should be as grand a place as our
island. If it is free of savages it is the beau ideal of a naturalist's
station. Look! what's that?"
"A deer come out of the wood to drink in the stream," I said.
"Poor deer," laughed my uncle, "I'm afraid it will have to come into our
larder, for a bit of venison is the very thing we want."
As he spoke he cautiously took up a rifle, rested it upon the edge of
the boat, waited a few moments, and then fired at fully five hundred
yards' distance, and I saw the deer make one great bound and fall dead.
"Good! Eatum," said Ebo approvingly; but instead of indulging in a
frantic dance he shaded his eyes and gazed about in every direction,
carefully sweeping the shore, and paying no heed to us as the boat was
sailed close in.
As the keel was checked by the sand Ebo leaped out, and I thought he was
about to rush at the deer to skin it for food, but he ran off rapidly in
one direction right along the shore, coming back at the end of a quarter
of an hour, during which, after dragging our prize on board, we
remained, gun in hand, upon the watch.
Ebo started again and went in the other direction, being away longer
this time, but returning triumphant to indulge in a dance, and help drag
the boat into a place of safety before proceeding to light a fire.
Venison steaks followed, and after another exploration we found that we
were in so thoroughly uninhabited a part of the island that we built a
hut and slept ashore perfectly undisturbed.
The next morning we had another exploration, to find that, as my uncle
had supposed, the ridge of mountains cut us off from the rest of the
island, and finding nothing to fear we once more set to work.
Parrots were in profusion, and so were the great crowned pigeons; these
latter becoming our poultry for the table. There was an abundance,
though, of birds of large size, whose skins we did not care to preserve,
but which, being fruit-eaters, were delicious roasted. Then we had
another deer or two; caught fish in the bay; and literally revelled in
the bounteous supply of fruit.
Meanwhile we were working industriously over our specimens, finding
paroquets that were quite new to us, splendid cockatoos, and some that
were as ugly as they were curious.
Sun-birds, pittas, lovely starlings, kingfishers, and beautifully-tinted
pigeons were in abundance. Bright little manakins of a vivid green were
there, so feathered that they put me in mind of the rich orange
cock-of-the-rocks that Uncle Dick had brought over from Central America.
Sometimes we were shooting beside the lovely trickling stream where it
gathered itself into pools to form tiny waterfalls, places where some
birds seemed to love to come. At others, beneath some great
flower-draped tree, where the sun-birds hovered and darted. But the
great objects of our search, the birds of paradise, haunted the nut and
berry bearing trees. Some were always to be found by a kind of palm
that attracted the pigeons as well, these latter swallowing fruit that
looked as big as their heads.
Here, to our intense delight, we shot the paradise oriole, a magnificent
orange, yellow, and black bird, its head looking as if it was covered
with a lovely orange plush.
One day we had made a longer excursion than usual, and had been so
successful that we were about to turn back, having a long afternoon's
work before us to preserve our specimens. We had penetrated right to
the mountainous ridge, and finding the ground rise very rapidly we came
to a standstill, when a peculiar cry up amongst the tree-shadowed rocks
above us made us forget our fatigue, especially as Ebo was making signs.
The cry was so different to any that we had before heard that we felt
that it must be some new bird, and full of eagerness set to work to
stalk it.
All at once what seemed a flash of dark blue darted from a tree, and
before gun could reach shoulder it was gone.
But Ebo had been on the watch, and away he crept amongst the rocks and
trees, following what we now took to be a prize, till we saw him a
quarter of a mile away holding up his spear as a signal.
We followed cautiously, and with a look of intelligence in his eyes he
signed to my uncle to go one way towards a clump of tall palms, and to
me to go in the other direction.
"Fire upwards," whispered my uncle, and we parted.
I knew from Ebo's ways that the bird must be in one of these trees, and
with my eyes sweeping the great leaves in all directions I tried to make
out the bird, but in vain, and I had advanced so near that I gave up all
hope of seeing it, when suddenly from the other side there was a shot,
then another, and feeling satisfied that my uncle had secured the prize
I was completely taken off my guard, and stared with astonishment as a
large bird, with tail quite a couple of feet long, swept by me towards
the dense undergrowth of the lower ground, where it would have been in
vain to hunt for it.
Just, however, as the bird was darting between the trees I raised my gun
and made a quick snapshot at quite sixty yards' distance, and then
called myself a stupid for not being more ready and for wasting a charge
of powder and shot.
My uncle hailed me now.
"Any luck, Nat?" he cried, as he came up.
"No, uncle," I replied. "I made a flying shot, but it was too far-off."
"So were mine, Nat, but I fired on the chance of getting the bird. It
was a bird of paradise different to any I have seen. We must come
again. I never had a chance at it."
"But I did, uncle," I said dolefully, "and missed it."
"Where was it when you fired?"
"Down among those trees, uncle. I let it go too far."
"Why, you hit it, Nat! There's Ebo."
I looked, and to my intense delight there was our black companion
holding up the bird in triumph. He had seen it fall when I shot, marked
it down, and found it amongst the dense undergrowth, placing it before
us with hardly a feather disarranged.
It was a splendid bird, the last we shot in New Guinea, and over three
feet long, its tail being two and of a lovely bluish tint. If looked at
from one side it was bronze, from the other green, just as the light
fell, while from its sides sprung magnificent plumes of rich blue and
green. They were not long, filmy plumes like those of the great bird of
paradise, but short, each widening towards the end, and standing up like
a couple of fans above the wings.
It was a feast to gaze upon so lovely an object of creation, and I felt
more proud of having secured that specimen than of any bird I had shot
before.
"Well, Nat the Naturalist," cried my uncle, when he had carefully hung
the bird by its beak from a stick, "I think I did right in bringing you
with me."
"I am glad you think so, uncle," I said.
"I mean it, my boy, for you have been invaluable to me. It was worth
all the risk of coming to this savage place to get such a bird as that."
"There must be plenty more wonderful birds here, uncle," I said, "if we
could stop in safety."
"I am sure there are, Nat, and there is nothing I should like better
than to stay here. It is a regular naturalist's hunting-ground and full
of treasures, if we dared thoroughly explore it."
"Just now, uncle," I said, "I feel as if I want to do nothing else but
sit down and rest by a good dinner. Oh! I am so fagged!"
"Come along, then," he said smiling, "and we will make straight for
camp, and I dare say we can manage a good repast for your lordship.
Home, Ebo. Eat--drink--sleep."
"Eat--drink--sleep," said Ebo nodding, for he knew what those three
words meant, and carefully carrying the treasures we had shot, tied at
regular distances along a stick, he trudged on in advance towards our
hut upon the shore.