“Look out for snakes, Salloo,” he warned. But the Malay only nodded his head confidently and smiled. Donald glanced about nervously. Even Captain Sparhawk looked apprehensive. As for Muldoon, he shouted, “This is no place for a son of St. Patrick,” and fled back to camp.
“What’s the matter, Salloo?” asked Mr. Jukes. “Are you in trouble?”
“No trouble, Missel Boss,” rejoined Salloo. “Only bit what you callee good luck,” grinned the Malay, looking down on them and continuing his work.
“How good luck?” asked Jack.
“You see plenty soon,” was the cryptic reply, and the Malay drew another sharp-pointed peg from his girdle and drove it in with vigorous strokes of the axe. While he did this, the hissing continued, mingled with a hoarse roaring like that which might be emitted by a disabled foghorn. Moreover, they could now see that a few feet above Salloo’s head was an object which alternately was thrust out from the tree trunk and withdrawn. It was white and sharp-pointed, like one of the pegs he was driving. It was assuredly not a snake’s head, as they had for a minute thought, but what was it?
“What’s that right over your head, Salloo?” asked Captain Sparhawk.
“Him buld (bird), captain. Him plentee much bigee buld.”
“Oh, only a bird,” said Mr. Jukes in a disappointed voice. “What sort of a one?”
“Him hornbill. Ole hen hornbill. She on nest. Old man hornbill he shut her up in there so she no leave eggs. Him put mud over crack in tree so as she no put nothing but her beak out. That the way he feedee her.”
So that was the explanation of that object that darted in and out, and also of the hissing and grunting sounds. Looking closer, they now saw that at the spot where the bill still kept darting in and out there was a big longitudinal patch of mud which walled the hen hornbill up as effectually as certain prisoners were “walled up” in the days of old. As Salloo got within reaching distance of the nest, he raised his axe and smashed the mud wall before any of the party could check him. The next instant his bare arm was plunged fearlessly into the orifice and came out with his fingers clutching the old hen by the neck. In a moment she was fluttering, with her neck wrung, at the adventurers’ feet.