Panton shows the Way to Wonderland.
“You were so precious proud of your ornitho superbo, or whatever you call it, that you seemed to fancy yourself head cock discoverer and chief boss of the expedition,” cried Panton one morning, as he returned in a great hurry, after being out for some hours with Smith and Wriggs.
Oliver, who, helped by Drew, was busily packing layers of dried bird skins in a case, looked up laughingly.
“What is it?” he cried. “What have you found—diamonds?”
“Oh, no, nothing of that kind. Come on and see.”
“In five minutes I shall be done. Then we’ll come. But what is it?”
“Wait till you get there,” responded Panton, wincing slightly, for he had just felt a sting in his newly-healed wound.
“All right,” said Oliver. “Now, Drew, another layer of paper, then this lot of skins, and we’ll fasten the lid down.”
“Why not leave it unfastened till your other lot are dry?”
“Because if I do, the ants will make short work of them. In with the rest, lightly. Now the lid.”