Just then a puff of feathers flew up in the air, and the two travellers stepped forward and simultaneously burst into a roar of laughter.
For there, in amongst the undergrowth, sat Jack, his hairy coat, head, arms, and legs covered with feathers, which formed quite a nest about him, and as they came up he chattered away loudly, and went on tearing the lavender plumage out of one of the great pigeons which lay in his lap, and scattering the soft down far and wide.
“Why, he must have seen the birds plucked yesterday,” said the major, wiping his eyes, so comical was the monkey’s seriously intent aspect, as he kept glancing up at them sharply, and then chattering and peering down at the half-denuded pigeon, his little black fingers nimbly twisting out the feathers, and his whole aspect suggestive of his being a cook in a tremendous hurry.
“There, come along,” continued the major; “pick up the birds, Mark.”
Easier said than done. There were three, but two, half-picked, had to be hunted out from the heap of feathers, and Jack objected to part with the third, holding on to it tightly till he was pressed back with the stock of the gun, after which the miserable half-picked birds were tied together by the legs and hung over the barrel.
They had no difficulty in finding the rest of the morning’s sport, and this done, the first being shouldered by the major, they walked as fast as the nature of the way would allow, back to the shore, unwillingly on Mark’s part, for there was always some brilliant bird or insect flitting across their path and inviting inspection.
But this inclination to stay was always checked by the major, who kept on bringing his companion back to the commonplace by uttering the one word, “Dinner!” and this sufficed.
Note 1. Attap, thatching made of the leaves of a palm—the nipah.