as not inhabited, at least human beings
occasionally frequented it.

After crossing a rather large prairie, we arrived at the skirts of a
little wood that was enlivened by the songs and flight of a large
number of birds.

"There are only birds," said Conseil.

"But they are eatable," replied the harpooner.

"I do not agree with you, friend Ned, for I see only parrots there."

"Friend Conseil," said Ned, gravely, "the parrot is like pheasant to
those who have nothing else."

"And," I added, "this bird, suitably prepared, is worth knife and fork."

Indeed, under the thick foliage of this wood, a world of parrots were
flying from branch to branch, only needing a careful education to speak
the human language. For the moment, they were chattering with parrots
of all colours, and grave cockatoos, who seemed to meditate upon some
philosophical problem, whilst brilliant red lories passed like a piece
of bunting carried away by the breeze, papuans, with the finest azure
colours, and in all a variety of winged things most charming to behold,
but few eatable.

However, a bird peculiar to these lands, and which has never passed the
limits of the Arrow and Papuan islands, was wanting in this collection.
But fortune reserved it for me before long.

After passing through a moderately thick copse, we found a plain
obstructed with bushes. I saw then those magnificent birds, the
disposition of whose long feathers obliges them to fly against the
wind. Their undulating flight, graceful aerial curves, and the shading
of their colours, attracted and charmed one's looks. I had no trouble
in recognising them.

"Birds of paradise!" I exclaimed.

The Malays, who carry on a great trade in these birds with the Chinese,
have several means that we could not employ for taking them. Sometimes
they put snares on the top of high trees that the birds of paradise
prefer to frequent. Sometimes they catch them with a viscous birdlime
that paralyses their movements. They even go so far as to poison the
fountains that the birds generally drink from. But we were obliged to
fire at them during flight, which gave us few chances to bring them
down; and, indeed, we vainly exhausted one half our ammunition.

About eleven o'clock in the morning, the first range of mountains that
form the centre of the island was traversed, and we had killed nothing.
Hunger drove us on. The hunters had relied on the products of the
chase, and they were wrong.