“Well, what do you make of it?”
“Some one playing a kind of flute.”
“No, Nic. That is our Australian magpie.”
“Magpie?” cried Nic, forgetting his uncomfortable seat; “but magpies at home in Kent have a harsh kind of laugh.”
“Like that?” said the doctor, as a loud, hoarse chuckle arose.
“No: harsher and noisier. Was that the magpie?”
“No, Nic; that was our laughing jackass.”
“What! A donkey?”
“No; there he sits, on that bare limb,” cried the doctor, pointing up to a big, heavy-headed, browny-grey bird, which seemed to be watching them, with its great strong beak on one side.
Nic examined the bird carefully.