d, by
steady work, that I began to understand how my uncle had brought so
great a number from the West.

But still one of the great objects of our visit to this part of the
world had not been achieved; we had shot no birds of paradise; and these
were scarce things in England at the time of which I write.

There were plenty of rough specimens of their plumage worn in ladies'
bonnets; but a fair, well-preserved skin was hardly known, those brought
to England being roughly dried by the natives; so at last my uncle
declared that no more birds should be shot and skinned until we had
obtained specimens of some at least of the lovely creatures whose cries
we often heard about us, but which tantalisingly kept out of shot.

It was a difficult task, but we at last made Ebo understand that we must
shoot some of these birds, when by his way he seemed to indicate that if
we had only told him sooner we might have had as many as we liked.

That very day he obtained a good little store of provisions, shouldered
his spear, and went off by himself, and we saw no more of him for
forty-eight hours, when he came back in the most unconcerned way, just
as if he had never been out of sight, and sat down and ate all that we
put before him.

After that he lay down and went to sleep for some hours, waking up ready
to dance around us, chattering vehemently until we had finished the
skins we were preserving, when he signed to us to take our guns and to
follow him.

We obeyed him, but he did not seem satisfied until we had collected some
provision as well, when once more he set off, taking us through a part
of the island we had not visited before, and, if anything, more
beautiful than that we had.

It was a long journey he took us, and we could have secured hundreds of
brilliantly coloured birds, but we only shot a few large ones, such as
we knew to be good food, ready for our halt by the camp fire, for it
seemed that we were not to return to our hut that night.

Over hillsides, down in valleys where tree-ferns sprang up, of the most
beautifully laced fronds, great groves of palms and clumps of cocoa-nut
trees, some of whose fruit Ebo climbed and got for us, and still we went
on, avoiding the marshy-looking spots which experience had taught us to
be the home of the serpents, which, in very small numbers, inhabited the
isle.

Several times over we looked inquiringly at Ebo, but he only smiled and
pointed forward, and we followed him till h