I had made a small table of three slabs of rock, where I frequently placed fruits, nuts, roots and the like, that I might have in case I should feel hungry when in my house, and yet not care to eat the fruit directly from the plant, which I most generally preferred. Of course, too, it was always desirable to have provisions on hand when it rained.
The next morning, when I awoke, the rain was still descending, for it was just at this time that it rained for three or four days together.
I always had a healthy relish for the good things of this world, and, as there was no rosy dawn to look at, my eyes immediately went in search of the breakfast-table.
"What!" I exclaimed; and I sat upright in my hammock.
There was the parrot on the table.
I eyed him for some time, and then I cried out:
"You little thief! Stealing my food, are you?"
The parrot sat there, but said never a word. He merely raised one of his claws and sleeked up the feathers on the back of his neck, in the way his family know so well. Then, raising the feathers of his crest, he gave utterance to a very faint shriek.
"Get out of this, you rascal!" I cried and immediately got up and went toward him with the purpose of putting him out.