Ned uttered a cheer, and the whole party hurried forward, to reach the prize some time after Murray, who had reloaded and was carefully smoothing the bird’s plumage.
“A long shot, Ned,” he said. “That must have been fully eighty yards. It was the large shot did it. There, you never saw a peacock like that.”
“Yes,” cried Ned, “often.”
“No, my lad; look again.”
“Well, it is a little different. The neck’s green.”
“Yes, instead of blue. That’s the Javanese peacock, and a splendid specimen. We’ll hang this up till our return. Anything likely to touch it if we hang it on a branch?”
“No, I think not, sir,” replied Frank; and after the bird had been carefully suspended fully six feet from the ground, the party walked on, to find that the ground was beginning to rise steadily, an indication of their nearing the hills.
“So that’s the bird you wanted me to find, was it?” said Murray, after a long silent tramp, for the bush had grown rather dense.
“Oh no. The birds I mean only come out of a night. I’ve only seen two since I’ve been here, but you can hear them often in the jungle.”
“Owls?”