Almost directly after I shot a big dull brown bird which gave me no satisfaction at all; but Uncle Dick was delighted, saying that it was the female bird of the kind we had shot, and we decided that it was the red bird of paradise.
Even then we had not come to the end of our good fortune, for after passing over hundreds of sun-birds, pittas, and trogons, such as we should have been only too glad to meet a short time back, my uncle suddenly raised his gun and fired at what seemed to be, from where I stood, a couple of sturdy-looking starlings.
One fell, and Uncle Dick shouted to me as the second bird came in my direction.
I made a quick shot at it just as it was darting among some bushes, and brought it down, and on running to pick it up I found that I had shot something entirely fresh to me.
“Well done, Nat!” cried my uncle. “Mine is only the hen bird. What a lovely little creature, to be sure! It is a gem.”
“What is it, uncle?” I said.
“Evidently a paradise bird, my boy.”
It was a curious little short-tailed fellow, but wonderful in its colours; while from the centre of the dumpy tail sprang two wires of about six inches long, which formed two flat spiral curls at the end, and of a most intense green. Instead of the long plumes of the birds we shot before—birds three times the size of this—it had under each wing a little tuft of grey, tipped with green, which the bird could set up like tiny tans. The whole of the upper surface was of a rich red, and the under part of a glistening floss-silky or glass-thready white, but relieved here and there with bands and patches of metallic green. There were shades of orange crimson here, and when I add that the bird’s legs were of a delicious blue, and its beak of orange yellow like a blackbird’s, you can realise how beautiful a creature I had shot.
“There, Nat,” said my uncle, “we will do no more, only carefully preserve the treasures we have got.”
But hardly had he spoken before he fired again and brought down another bird, which was again a wonder. It seemed about the size of the last, but was entirely different, though sufficiently similar to mark it as a paradise bird. It had nearly as short a tail, with the two central wires crossed, but instead of forming the beautiful curves of the other with the flat disc at the end, these wires ended in a point and curled round so as to form a circle. The prevailing colours were orange, buff, and yellow, but its great peculiarity was a couple of ruffs or capes of feathers hanging from the back of its neck, the upper one of a pale yellow, the lower of a reddish-brown.