“Hold on, professor. We’ll climb up there and kill it.”
“Blitzen, nein! Not for de vurld vould I haf you kill idt!” was the excited response.
“But it’s holding your hand! It will hurt you! You may get blood poisoning!”
“Nein, I haf on a gluff. Idt cannot hurdt me. Idt is a fine spezimen. Can’t you preak indo der tree midt your axes undt dig him out?”
“We might try,” said Jack rather dubiously, “but I should think it would be better to pull your hand out of your glove.”
But by no persuasion would the professor consent to do this. He declared that he was willing to stand on the tree all night if the boys would only do him a favor and dig through the bark and give him a chance to seize the macaw within. Jack clambered up to the professor’s side and tapping the wood with his axe soon saw that it was a mere shell.
“I’ll soon chop you out of that,” he said, giving the wood a hard whack.
“Chently! chently! I peg off you,” urged the professor; “he is a fine spezimen. Nodt for vurlds vould I haf him ge-hurt.”
“The bird isn’t as considerate toward you,” thought Jack as the professor broke off with a cry of pain caused by an extra hard tweak that the bird had given his imprisoned hand.
A few blows smashed the rotten wood away and as it crashed inward, releasing the professor, he lost his balance and slid down the trunk to the ground, landing with a hard bump. The macaw, on the other hand, let go of his fingers the instant Jack smashed the tree open, and with a loud shriek, as if in contempt of the fallen scientist, it flew off through the wood. Nothing about the professor had suffered any injury but his feelings, and he was soon up. But to his disappointment, no eggs were found in the nest within the tree. Apparently it was only used for a roosting place, or else it was not the season for the birds to mate.