which he picked up in triumph and stuck on his head
again, grinning as he returned.

"That's the way to scare that sort, Master Nat," he cried. And he
reached me again just as I stooped to pick up the fallen bird.

"Cock of the Rocks, Pete," I cried triumphantly, too much excited to
think about the puma.

"Is he, sir?" said Pete. "Well, he ran away like a hen."

"No, no! I mean this bird. Isn't it a beauty?"

"He just is, sir. Lives on oranges, I s'pose, to make him that colour."

"I don't know what it lived on," I said as I regularly gloated over the
lovely bird with its orange plumage and soft wheel-like crest of
feathers from beak to nape. "This must go in your net, Pete; but you
must carry it very carefully."

"I will, Master Nat. Going back now?"

"Back? No," I cried. "We must follow up that other one. I saw which
way it flew. Uncle will be in ecstasies at our having found a place
where they come."

"Will he, sir? Thought it was golden-green birds with long tails.
Quizzals. That one's got hardly any tail at all."

"He wants these too," I said, closing the breech of my gun. "Come
along."

"But how about that there big cat, sir? He's gone down that way."

"We must fire at it if it comes near again, or you must throw your hat,"
I said, laughing.

"All right, sir, you know. Only if he or she do turn savage, it might
be awkward."

"I don't think they're dangerous animals, Pete," I said; "and we must
have that other bird, and we may put up more. Here, I'll go first."

"Nay, play fair, Master Nat," said Pete; "let's go side by side."

"Yes, but a little way apart. Open out about thirty feet, and then
let's go forward slowly. I think we shall find it among those trees
yonder."

"The big cat, sir?" said Pete.

"No, no!" I cried; "the other bird, the cock of the rocks. Now then,
forward."

A little flock of brightly-coloured finches flew up before we had gone a
hundred yards, but I was so excited by the prospect of getting my
prize's mate that these seemed of no account, and we went on, my
intention being to fire at the cock of the rocks, and nothing else,
unless the golden plumage of a quetzal flashed into sight.

In another five minutes we had forgotten all about the puma, for we were
leaving the trees where it had disappeared away to our left, and we went
on and on, starting birds again and again, till we had passed over a
quarter of a mile and were pushing on amongst open cl