eautiful birds, sir, especially with those of
the parrot tribe. There is the black cockatoo, for instance--not that
you'll care for it."

"Why?" said Nic.

"Because it is ugly," said Leather, smiling, as if he enjoyed the boy's
enthusiasm. "It is wanting in bright feathers, but it is a curious
bird, with a tremendously strong beak."

"I must have a specimen, though," said Nic. "What others are there?"

"I can hardly tell you, sir. The parrots are in great variety. Stop:
there are two grass parrots that I know of. One is a green bird striped
all over across with a darker green, like the breast of a cuckoo or a
hawk, and it has fairly long legs, which enable it to go about actively
on the ground. Other parrots have, as you know, very short legs, only
suitable for clinging and climbing in the trees."

"And the other--grass parrot you called it?"

"A lovely little creature, cross-barred like the ground parrot; but its
colours are brilliant, and it is one of the most graceful-looking little
birds of the kind."

"Why, Leather," cried Nic, "you are quite a naturalist! How do you know
all this?"

"How could I help knowing, sir--spending days and weeks and months
alone, out here in this great wild country, watching sheep or helping to
hunt our stray cattle? What should I have done in a solitary bit of a
hut without speaking to a fellow-creature perhaps for a month?"

"But you have not been like this?"

"Not since I have been at the Bluff, sir. When I came up the country to
be Mr Dillon's servant I was almost constantly alone. They used to
send me my rations now and then. It was a very solitary life."

"How lonely!"

"Yes, sir--lonely," said the man, with a tinge of bitterness in his
tones; "but it had its advantages. There was no Brookes."

Nic started and looked keenly in the man's face; but he frowned and
turned hastily away, as if angry at what he had said.

"I must be getting back to the sheep, sir," he said hurriedly. "They
are terribly weak, foolish things, always catching some disease. I hope
you will get your bird home safely, sir. I should skin it directly.
Things so soon go bad out in this hot place."

He turned away in among the trees; and Nic walked off with his gun over
his shoulder, very thoughtful as he picked his way in and out among the
bushes, till, feeling hot, he rested his gun against a bough, and sat
down in the shade of one of the thick-foliaged, huge-trunked trees which