Slagg willingly promised never again to fire at monkeys, and they proceeded on their way.
They had not gone far, when another whirring of wings was heard, but this time the noise was greater than on other occasions.
“What is it?” asked Slagg eagerly, preparing for action.
“Sure it’s a pay-cock,” said Flinn.
“A what-cock?” asked Slagg, who afterwards described the noise to be like the flapping of a mainsail.
“A pay-cock. Splendid aitin’. Fire, avic!”
“What! fire at that?” cried Slagg, as a creature of enormous size and gorgeous plumage rose above the bushes. “Ye must be jokin’. I couldn’t fire at that.”
“Faix, an’ ye naidn’t fire at it now,” returned Flinn with a quiet smile, “for it’s a mile out o’ range by this time. Better luck—och! if there isn’t another. Now, thin, don’t be in a hurry. Be aisy. Whatever ye do, be aisy.”
While he spoke another huge bird appeared, and as Slagg beheld its size and spreading wings and tail, he took aim with the feelings of a cold-blooded murderer. That is to say, he shut both eyes and pulled both triggers. This double action had become a confirmed habit by that time, and Flinn commended it on the principle that there was “nothin’ like makin’ cocksure of everything!”
Re-opening his eyes and lowering his gun, Slagg beheld the peacock sailing away in the far distance.