I made my appearance, after a long exploration among mango groves, paddy fields, and sugar-cane kates,[[33]] in search of game.
The captain was seated on the roof of the budgerow as I hove in sight; his amiable sister, parasol in hand, beside him, talking of Long Somerton, in all probability, and enjoying the beauties of the scene and the coolness and tranquillity of the hour.
“Well, Gernon,” said the former, who had now dropped the “Mr.” in addressing me, “what sport? what have you killed?—too well employed to think of dinner, of course!”
“Oh! capital, sir,” said I; “all in that bag, and more besides.”
“Quantity, certainly; but what are they?” added he, “for that, after all, is the main point.”
“Pray bring them on board,” said Miss Belfield; “I am curious to see some of the Indian game, to ascertain in what respect they differ from ours at home.”
“With the greatest pleasure,” returned I, glad of an opportunity to exhibit the contents of my bag; “you shall see them immediately.”
So saying, I went on board, and joined my friends on the roof, Ramdial following with the bag, and Nuncoo dragging up the jackal by the tail. Ye Gods! how the captain, albeit a grave man on ordinary occasions, did laugh, as Ramdial tumbled out the contents of my cornucopia!
“Ha! ha! ha! why, you have made a day’s sport of it, indeed,” he exclaimed; “but you don’t intend, I hope, that we should eat them all?”
“The snipes and the doves,” said I, modestly, “and those things, something like woodcocks, might not, I thought, be bad eating.”