What was to be done?
Again my heart grew sick and faint within me.
I sat down to collect my scattered thoughts.
At that moment the attendant began to serve my midday repast. I glanced at the tempting dishes and sparkling wines. It was a feast fit for a King.
“Sir Pendulum-legs,” said the serving man, with a low bow, “this is the season for O-loo-loo eggs. The first find was made to-day. The nest held six. His majesty sends thee two and wishes thee a pleasant dream.”
Now let me tell you what this strange speech all meant.
The O-loo-loo bird is about the size of a quail, and lays from six to a dozen eggs of a jet black hue. But as the bird, whose plumage is as black as a bat’s wing, makes its nest in the wilderness, among the rank growth of a heather-like plant, of so dark green a foliage as to seem almost black, the eggs are invisible to the hunter’s eye, and the nests can only be found by posting sentinels to mark the spots where the birds alight.
As you may imagine, O-loo-loo eggs are worth their weight in gold. Nay more, the people are forbidden to eat one.
Such is the King’s command!
They all belong to him, and the finder must straightway bear his prize to the royal palace where a rich reward awaits him.