He grew rapidly. One day I detected a feather. By degrees feathers replaced the down, but the most important sign of Darwin's growing up was when he took his first step. One morning without warning he heaved himself up, and, by using his beak as a third leg, actually stood on his feet. For the space of a full minute he remained in this position, then, suddenly lifting his head, he was erect. For one moment only; then, overbalancing backwards, he fell with a crash full length on the floor. He appeared stunned at first. I picked him up and placed him on his rails again, and there he sat, thinking the matter over. Presently he repeated the manœuvre, but with no better success, falling this time on his "front" as a child would say. Again I gathered him up, and apparently, after mature consideration, he decided that his time for walking had not yet come, for he made no more attempts that day.
About a week later, as if the idea had struck him for the first time, he got up quite suddenly, and coolly walked out of the back door into the yard; he stood there sunning himself, and chattering to and at everybody and everything in sight.
Darwin never looked back. He quickly developed a curiosity as insatiable as his appetite. He became playful, too. He made friends with the dogs, and romped with them. He noticed that the doctor paid a daily visit to the compound, and hid behind the fence in wait for him. As the doctor sped past on his bicycle, Darwin would shoot out his heavy beak at him. So sure a marksman did the bird become—he always narrowly missed the saddle, but hit the doctor—that the good man complained, and approached the compound by the long way round.
The day arrived when certain puppies had to lose their tails. Darwin took a proper interest in the operation, and gobbled up each tail as it fell. He appeared to like dogs' tails, and went in search of more. He found a nice long one which he tried to swallow, but it happened to be still attached to an elderly greyhound. Poor Darwin met with his first serious rebuff in life; he came to me for sympathy with a large puncture in his beak. The mark of the dog's displeasure was permanent.
When natives came, as they did in hundreds, to sell the produce of their gardens, woods, and streams, Darwin inspected their wares. With a twist of his beak he would filch a pinch of meal from a bowl to see, so the natives declared, whether it was of uniform whiteness throughout. Eggs had to be protected with outstretched arms, so, too, had baskets of little fishes, for he was very partial to them both, and only a very full sample would satisfy him. The natives declared him possessed. Judging by the way he first abused and then assaulted any one of them bold enough to resist his inspection, I think they were right.
I have already mentioned his curiosity. He permitted this defect in his character to carry him too far when he became a common thief. A traveller stayed with me for a few days. In spite of warning, he left the door of his hut open when he came across to the mess hut for breakfast. Darwin entered to inspect. It is surmised that he swallowed my guest's shaving brush and tooth brush, for they have never been found. It is only surmise, but there was circumstantial evidence to support the charge in the form of the stick of shaving soap which was found on the floor with marks on it which might have been made by the beak of a large bird.
Again, the contents of two boxes of cigars were found scattered far and wide; each cigar had been nipped in half. Darwin was questioned; he looked wise but said nothing. A native witness swore he had seen the accused walking in the yard with the white man's pipe in his mouth. This was a wicked slander, for the white man had that pipe in his pocket, and it was his only one.
The case was not proven, but Darwin left the court without a shred of character.
I have referred to his appetite. One day the cook missed a piece of lamb's neck, weighing probably half a dozen pounds. He couldn't blame the cat, because there wasn't one, so he pointed the finger of accusation at Darwin. The evil bird was sent for. I felt he was guilty, and, although he winked at me for sympathy, I had to say so. Besides, he had not been sufficiently careful to hide the loot; even a professional detective could have recognised the meat by the very large, irregular bulge in the bird's pouch. In places the mutton bones threatened to pierce the thin disguise.
Darwin certainly had his uses. No nasty-smelling scrap could lie undetected for long. His scent was keen and his eye sharp. I never found a snake in the house after Darwin grew up, nor were there many rats about the place.