"I ought to know that tree," said he. "I have often seen it in hot countries. Yes, it's the guava."
"What! is it the fruit they make guava jelly of?" said William.
"Yes, the very same."
"Let us now walk in the direction of those five or six trees," said William; "and from there down to the rocks; I want to find out how it is that they are so white."
"Be it so, if you wish," replied Ready.
"Why, Ready, what noise is that? Hark! such a chattering, it must be monkeys."
"No, they are not monkeys; but I'll tell you what they are, although I cannot see them; they are parrots - I know their noise well. You see, William, it's not very likely that monkeys should get here, but birds can, and it is the birds that we have to thank for the bananas and guavas, and other fruits we may find here."
As soon as they came under the trees, there was a great rioting and fluttering, and then away flew, screaming as loud as they could, a flock of about three hundred parrots, their beautiful green and blue feathers glistening in the beams of the sun.
"I told you so; well, we'll have some capital pies out of them,
William."
"Pies! do they make good pies, Ready?"