CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
FRESH TREASURES.
Ebo set to work earnestly to finish the hut, binding down the palmleaves of the thatch with more long canes, which he cleverly threaded inand out, and afterwards secured their ends. Then he cut off the longends of the bamboos so as to leave all tidy before commencing the sides.
My uncle was as anxious as I was to go upon some expedition; but asthere was no shelter to be obtained here, and it became more and moreevident that we were upon an uninhabited island, he saw the necessityfor having our boxes and stores under a roof.
So we set manfully to work helping the black, cutting bamboos, bringinglarge palm leaves, fetching long rattan canes, and handing them to him;while, saving when he left off for meals, Ebo toiled like a slave,working with an industry that we should not have expected to find in aninhabitant of one of these sleepy isles.
At last, though, he finished, and his childish delight seemed to know nobounds. He danced and shouted, ran in and out, walked round the hut,and then strutted up to us full of self-satisfaction, his tongue goingall the while, and evidently feeling highly delighted at our smiles andwords of praise.
No time was lost in transferring our boxes and stores beneath the roof;and then, as it wanted quite three hours to sunset, my uncle proposed,by way of recompense for all our drudgery, that we should take our gunsand see if we could not obtain a few specimens.
Ebo looked delighted, and, without being told, obtained a short piece ofbamboo ready for carrying the birds we shot.
Then, taking his spear out of the canoe, he smiled to show how ready hewas; but Uncle Dick took him by the arm and led him up to the door ofthe hut.
"Put your spear there, as you did before, to keep off all visitors,Master Ebo," he said; and he accompanied his request with signs toexpress what he wished.
Ebo understood him at once, and made as if to stick the spear in theground before the door, but he stopped short and shook his head, ran afew yards, and peered in amongst the trees; turned round and shook hishead again; ran in another direction and peeped about, coming backshaking his head again.
Ebo's motions said as plainly as could be:
"There is nobody here but ourselves," and as if to satisfy us he led theway to a high hill about a mile away, from whence we had a splendid viewall but in one direction, where there lay a clump of mountains. Lookwhich way we would there was nothing but rich plain and dense jungle,with occasional patches of park-like land. Not a sign was there ofhuts, and once more Ebo looked at us and shook his head, counting usafterwards in his own way--one, two, three, and then tossing his arms inthe air.
"We are in luck, Nat," said my uncle. "This island must swarm withnatural history specimens, and he has brought us here because he thoughtit a good place; so now to make the best use of our time. Look out!"
As he spoke he raised his gun and fired at a bird darting down a narrowrift between two rocks that looked as if they had been riven asunder.
I thought he had missed it, but Ebo ran ahead and returned directly witha most lovely kingfisher in glorious plumage.
"If we get nothing more in this island, Nat, I shall be satisfied," saidmy uncle as we gazed at the lovely creature which Ebo had brought; andseeing the satisfaction in our faces he indulged in another dance.
"Yes," continued my uncle, patting Ebo's black shoulder, "you are atreasure, Ebo, and I see we shall be greatly in your debt. Now, Nat, wemust not have a feather of that bird spoiled. I feel ready to go backon purpose to prepare it."
It was indeed a lovely creature; but as I gazed upon its delicatelybeautiful tints I felt puzzled. It was of rich purple on the back, withazure-blue shoulders dashed and speckled with a lighter blue, while allthe under parts were of a pure white, which seemed to throw out the richcolours of the back. But the great beauty of the specimen was its tail,which was long and had the two centre feathers continued almost withoutany plumes till the end, where they spread out like a couple of racketbats, making the little bird in all about a foot and a half long.
I felt as if I should never tire of gazing at the beautiful specimen,and quite understood my uncle's feeling about wishing to make sure of itby preserving it at once.
Just then, though, a large bird flew across, at which I fired, but itwas too far distant, and the shots did no more than rattle about itsfeathers.
"Did you see its great beak, uncle?" I said.
"Yes, Nat, a hornbill. I daresay we shall find plenty of them here.They take the places in the East of the toucans of the West. But now,Nat, there is an easy shot for you--look! Ebo is pointing to it.There, seated on that twig. Now see he darts off after a fly and isback again. No, he is off once more. We have scared him."
But by this time I had seen the bird, and taking quick aim as it hoveredand snatched at a fly of some kind, I fired and brought it down, to findthat I too had got a prize in the shape of a lovely little bee-eater,with plumage rich in green and blue, brown and black, while its tail wasalso rendered more beautiful by the extension of its central feathers intwo long thin points.
My uncle's gun spoke out again the next moment, the second barrelfollowing quickly, and Ebo ran and picked up another of the lovelykingfishers, and one of a different kind with a rich coral-red beak,short tail, and its back beautifully barred with blue and black like theornamental feathers in the wings of a jay.
"That is a bee-eater you have shot, Nat, and a lovely thing too. Mineare all kingfishers."
"There must be a little stream down in that hollow between those rocks,uncle," I replied.
"No, Nat, I don't suppose there is," he said, smiling. "But why do yousay that?"
"Because of those kingfishers, uncle. There must be a stream or poolsomewhere near."
"I daresay there is, Nat; but not on account of these birds, my lad.They are dry kingfishers, Nat. They do not live upon fish, but uponbeetles, butterflies, and moths, darting down and picking them off theground without wetting a feather."
"Why, how curious!" I said. "They have beaks just like the kingfishersat home."
"Very much like them, Nat," he said; "but they catch no fish. But come,we must get back to the hut, or we shall never get our birds turned intoskins before dark. Look out!"
We fired so closely together that it sounded like one shot, and threemore of the great pigeons fell heavily to the ground--part of a littleflock that was passing over our head.
Ebo seized them with a grin of delight, for he knew that these meantlarder, and then hastening back we had just time to strip and prepareour skins before night fell, when, work being ended, the fire was relit,the kettle boiled, and a sort of tea-supper by moonlight, with the darkforest behind and the silvery sea before us, ended a very busy day.