“Ach! Take der bird avay! He bite me pretty soon alretty!” shouted the professor.
“Does that mean that he’s bitten him already, or that he’s going to?” asked Dick, laughing at the odd figure the professor cut.
Jack raised his rifle and took careful aim as the macaw hovered about the professor’s head. The next minute his weapon flashed and cracked sharply. There was a shout from the professor and a screech from the bird and it fell dead almost at their feet.
“Good shooting!” approved Tom, picking it up.
“You’re all right now, professor,” hailed Jack; “I’ve killed the bird.”
“Himmel! I vish you could kill its mate!” cried the Teuton piercingly.
“Why? What’s the trouble? Why don’t you come down?” demanded Jack, who noticed that the professor’s arm was still thrust within the tree.
“I can’t. Annuder macaw in der nest inside der tree has mein fingers be-grabbed.”
What was the matter now became plain enough. The professor must have wandered off in search of specimens while supper was getting ready. Seeing a macaw fly into a nest he had climbed the tree and imprudently thrust in his hand to obtain some eggs. Instantly his fingers had been gripped by the bird’s powerful beak, and he was held prisoner. To add to his troubles, the big bird that Jack had just shot had been harassing the disturber of its home in the tree trunk.
Jack felt more inclined to laugh than anything else at the little naturalist’s plight. But he stifled his mirth and hailed the spectacled German again.