He was not long kept in suspense, for, without a moment’s hesitation, Leather took aim. There was a flash, a puff of smoke and loud report, and a bird came rustling down through the twigs and boughs.
“A fact—not a ruse, sir,” said Leather bitterly, as he handed back the gun.
“I beg your pardon,” said the boy excitedly; and the man looked at him in wonder.
“People do not beg pardon of convicts,” he said very shortly; and, bending down over the spot where the bird had fallen, he carefully parted the low growth into which the specimen had dived head first, and then, taking the beautifully coloured little creature by the hooked beak, he tenderly drew it out with the feathers falling back into their places, and hardly showing a mark.
“That is about as perfect as one can be, I think, sir,” said Leather quietly.
“Lovely!” cried Nic enthusiastically. “How am I to get it home safely?”
“Take hold of it by the beak, sir, a moment,” replied Leather; and, being relieved of the bird, he looked round till his eyes lit upon a peculiar-looking grass, one of the waving strands of which he picked, drew through his hand, and then passed it through the bird’s nostrils, twisted the ends together lightly, and handed the loop to Nic.
“That grass is nearly as tough as wire, sir,” he said. “Carry it by that, letting it swing. Are you going to collect bird-skins, sir?”
“I’m going to try, Leather. I shall want to get a good white cockatoo,” said Nic, eagerly plunging into the subject, so as to try and make up for the suspicion he had displayed.
“Oh yes, sir,” said the man, who now showed not the slightest resentment. “There will be plenty of work for you in that way. You can get the sulphur crests, and those with orange crests, and the rose-coloured, and the pretty grey creamy-yellowish-cheeked birds which have the cockatoo’s crest and the long tail of the paroquet.”