Andy decided that his new acquaintance was the right sort. Luke had a clear, honest face, and there was something in his eye that inspired confidence.
"Now, then," said Andy, as his companion munched the last crumb of the cake, "let's see your wonderful curiosity."
"I'll do it," replied Luke with alacrity. "Find me a little stick or switch, will you?"
Andy went outside to hunt for the required article. As he returned with a stake splinter he observed that Luke had uncovered and set down the cage, which was a rude wooden affair.
Near it, with a pertly cocked head and magnificently red feathers, stood a small rooster. Luke took the stick from Andy's hand.
"Walk, Bolivar!" he ordered.
Andy began to laugh. It was a comical sight. The rooster went strutting around the tent backwards as rapidly and steadily as a normal chicken. It was ludicrous to watch it proceed, pecking at the ground and turning corners.
"Now, then, Bolivar!" said Luke.
He used the stick to direct the rooster, which kept time first with one foot and then the other to a tune whistled by its owner, ending with a triple pirouette that was superb.
"Well, that's fine!" commented Andy with enthusiasm. "How did you ever train it?"