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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
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67
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. Happily Conseil, to his great surprise, made a double shot and
secured breakfast.
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He brought down a white pigeon and a woodpigeon, which, cleverly plucked and
suspended from a skewer, was roasted before a red fire of dead wood. While
these interesting birds were cooking, Ned prepared the fruit of the breadtree.
Then the woodpigeons were devoured to the bones, and declared excellent. The
nutmeg, with which they are in the habit of stuffing their crops, flavours
their flesh and renders it delicious eating.
"Now, Ned, what do you miss now?"
"Some fourfooted game, M. Aronnax. All these pigeons are only sidedishes and
trifles; and until I have killed an animal with cutlets I shall not be
content."
"Nor I, Ned, if I do not catch a bird of paradise."
"Let us continue hunting," replied Conseil. "Let us go towards the sea. We
have arrived at the first declivities of the mountains, and I think we had
better regain the region of forests."
That was sensible advice, and was followed out. After walking for one hour we
had attained a forest of sagotrees. Some inoffensive serpents glided away from
us. The birds of paradise fled at our approach, and truly I despaired of
getting near one when Conseil, who was walking in front, suddenly bent down,
uttered a triumphal cry, and came back to me bringing a magnificent specimen.
"Ah! bravo, Conseil!"
"Master is very good."
"No, my boy; you have made an excellent stroke. Take one of these living
birds, and carry it in your hand."
"If master will examine it, he will see that I have not deserved great merit."
"Why, Conseil?"
"Because this bird is as drunk as a quail."
"Drunk!"
"Yes, sir; drunk with the nutmegs that it devoured under the nutmegtree, under
which I found it. See, friend
Ned, see the monstrous effects of intemperance!"
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"By Jove!" exclaimed the Canadian, "because I have drunk gin for two months,
you must needs reproach me!"
However, I examined the curious bird. Conseil was right. The bird, drunk with
the juice, was quite powerless.
It could not fly; it could hardly walk.
This bird belonged to the most beautiful of the eight species that are found
in Papua and in the neighbouring islands. It was the "large emerald bird, the
most rare kind." It measured three feet in length. Its head was comparatively
small, its eyes placed near the opening of the beak, and also small. But the
shades of colour were beautiful, having a yellow beak, brown feet and claws,
nutcoloured wings with purple tips, pale yellow at the back of the neck and
head, and emerald colour at the throat, chestnut on the breast and belly. Two
horned, downy nets rose from below the tail, that prolonged the long light
feathers of admirable fineness, and they completed the whole of this
marvellous bird, that the natives have poetically named the "bird of the sun."
But if my wishes were satisfied by the possession of the bird of paradise, the
Canadian's were not yet.
Happily, about two o'clock, Ned Land brought down a magnificent hog; from the
brood of those the natives call "barioutang." The animal came in time for us
to procure real quadruped meat, and he was well received.
Ned Land was very proud of his shot. The hog, hit by the electric ball, fell
stone dead. The Canadian skinned and cleaned it properly, after having taken
half a dozen cutlets, destined to furnish us with a grilled repast in the
evening. Then the hunt was resumed, which was still more marked by Ned and
Conseil's exploits.
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Indeed, the two friends, beating the bushes, roused a herd of kangaroos that
fled and bounded along on their elastic paws. But these animals did not take
to flight so rapidly but what the electric capsule could stop their course.
"Ah, Professor!" cried Ned Land, who was carried away by the delights of the
chase, "what excellent game, and stewed, too! What a supply for the Nautilus!
Two! three! five down! And to think that we shall eat that flesh, and that the
idiots on board shall not have a crumb!"
I think that, in the excess of his joy, the Canadian, if he had not talked so
much, would have killed them all.
But he contented himself with a single dozen of these interesting marsupians.
These animals were small.
They were a species of those "kangaroo rabbits" that live habitually in the
hollows of trees, and whose speed is extreme; but they are moderately fat, and
furnish, at least, estimable food. We were very satisfied with the results of
the hunt. Happy Ned proposed to return to this enchanting island the next day,
for he wished to depopulate it of all the eatable quadrupeds. But he had
reckoned without his host.
At six o'clock in the evening we had regained the shore; our boat was moored
to the usual place. The
Nautilus, like a long rock, emerged from the waves two miles from the beach.
Ned Land, without waiting, occupied himself about the important dinner
business. He understood all about cooking well. The
"barioutang," grilled on the coals, soon scented the air with a delicious
odour.
Indeed, the dinner was excellent. Two woodpigeons completed this extraordinary
menu. The sago pasty, the artocarpus bread, some mangoes, half a dozen
pineapples, and the liquor fermented from some coconuts, overjoyed us. I even
think that my worthy companions' ideas had not all the plainness desirable.
"Suppose we do not return to the Nautilus this evening?" said Conseil.
"Suppose we never return?" added Ned Land.
Just then a stone fell at our feet and cut short the harpooner's proposition.
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CHAPTER XXI. CAPTAIN NEMO'S THUNDERBOLT
We looked at the edge of the forest without rising, my hand stopping in the
action of putting it to my mouth, Ned Land's completing its office.
"Stones do not fall from the sky," remarked Conseil, "or they would merit the
name aerolites."
A second stone, carefully aimed, that made a savoury pigeon's leg fall from
Conseil's hand, gave still more weight to his observation. We all three arose,
shouldered our guns, and were ready to reply to any attack.
"Are they apes?" cried Ned Land.
"Very nearlythey are savages."
"To the boat!" I said, hurrying to the sea.
It was indeed necessary to beat a retreat, for about twenty natives armed with
bows and slings appeared on the skirts of a copse that masked the horizon to
the right, hardly a hundred steps from us.
Our boat was moored about sixty feet from us. The savages approached us, not
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