“Nor I, Ned, if I do not catch a bird of paradise.”
“Let us continue hunting,” replied Conseil. “Let us go towards the sea. We have arrived at the first declivities of the mountains, and I think we had better regain the region of forests.”
That was sensible advice, and was followed out. After walking for one hour we had attained a forest of sago-trees. Some inoffensive serpents glided away from us. The birds of paradise fled at our approach, and truly I despaired of getting near one when Conseil, who was walking in front, suddenly bent down, uttered a triumphal cry, and came back to me bringing a magnificent specimen.
“Ah! bravo, Conseil!”
“Master is very good.”
“No, my boy; you have made an excellent stroke. Take one of these living birds, and carry it in your hand.”
“If master will examine it, he will see that I have not deserved great merit.”
“Why, Conseil?”
“Because this bird is as drunk as a quail.”
“Drunk!”