By the time, however, the torches had been again lighted, the noisy little animals seemed to have made their way to the sea, and then Martin said, regrettingly:
“What a pity we didn’t have a shot at those swallows! We could have brought down a hundred of them.”
“It would have been a cruel and wanton destruction of life,” said I.
“My young master is right,” said Prabu, who took a purely business-like view of the matter. “You would have destroyed the creatures who make the nests.”
“Ah! I see, it would have been like killing the goose who laid the golden eggs,” said Martin; and Prabu, who had never heard that celebrated legend, taking the words literally, replied:
“A wonderful bird that, my master. Her nests would bring more dollars than these.”
“I should think so, indeed,” returned Martin, saucily. “It is only a pity one don’t know where they roost.”
“But anyhow, Prabu, we might have killed a few of those bats.”
“Yes,” was the reply, “or any of the swallows which build near the entrance of the caves.”
“But why those? Are they less valuable, only because they build in the interior?”