“All right, we’ll take a look,” said Dave.
“There he is,” pronounced Hiram, after the others had followed him a little distance, and he pointed past a shelving rock.
On the level of the valley below a native was squatted before a flat boulder. He held in his hand a comical metal object with an ivory handle. He seemed turning the handle. The boys, even at the distance they were, could hear a click-clack sound, apparently proceeding from the device.
“Say, whatever is that contraption?” asked the puzzled Hiram.
“Looks like a cross between a nutmeg grater and a music box,” suggested Elmer.
Dave ventured no opinion. Like the others he continued to watch the curious pantomime of the native. The lips of the man moved incessantly, making a dull monotonous drone. Finally he placed the device on the stove before him and closed his eyes.
His body swayed and he flung his arms aloft. Then he bent his forehead clear to the ground. All the time he kept up a steady monotone.
Finally he arose to his feet and picked up a knapsack and a long, sharp-pointed spear. He was about to resume his way. Just then a huge bird resembling an eagle, only snowy white, sailed down from a tree on the hillside. It swooped over the boulder and made a peck at its surface. The next moment it soared aloft, the trinket in its bill.
The native uttered a wild, frantic shriek. Of a sudden he was transposed into a being denuded of reason. As the bird flew up over the crest of the hill, the man cast himself prostrate on the ground; writhing there in agony. Beating his head with his hands, his face distorted, he acted like some person in a fit.
“Well, that’s something odd to see,” began Hiram—“what is it, Dave?”