Chapter Thirteen.
The treasures of our island.
The next morning, as we took our way to the sago wood, our ears were saluted by the loud cries of some of the birds of paradise; and looking up, we saw a vast number of them collected on the tops of some lofty trees in the forest, having immense heads of wide-spreading branches with scanty foliage, though with large leaves. Suddenly the birds began to move about in the most extraordinary manner, stretching out their necks, raising their beautifully-tinted plumes, and elevating their wings, which they kept in a continual state of vibration. Now they flew from branch to branch backwards and forwards, so that the trees appeared filled with waving plumes, and every variety of form and colour. “Why, they are dancing in the air!” exclaimed Oliver; and truly it seemed as if they were expressly performing a dance for our entertainment. The wings appeared to be raised directly over the back. The head was stretched out, bending downwards; and the long hinder feathers were elevated and expanded, forming two superb golden fans, striped with deep red at the base, and fading away into the pale brown tint of the body. Their heads were yellow, their throat emerald-green—though even the bright tints were scarcely perceptible amid the rich golden glory which waved above them. They appeared to be of the size of crows, the bodies being of a rich coffee brown. Their long gold and orange feathers, which form their most conspicuous ornament, spring from the sides beneath each wing; and I found afterwards, when I examined one of the birds, that when in repose they are partly concealed by them.
We could scarcely move from the spot, so delighted were we with the beautiful appearance of these magnificent birds. Now and then, also, superb butterflies of gorgeous colours flew by us; while here and there, as the sunlight penetrated amongst the branches of the trees, we saw, creeping along the ground or up the stems, numbers of glittering beetles, of equally beautiful tints.
At length, however, we repaired to our sago-tree. Macco used his newly-formed axe with as much judgment as at first; we as before working away at intervals with our knives. At length he exclaimed, “Me t’ink tree fall now. You go to end of rope and haul, haul. Take care far enough off; and I cut, cut.”
Macco again shouted; and Oliver and I hauling with all our might, we saw the lofty tree bending forward. We ran back even further than was necessary, and down it came with a crash upon the ground, which echoed through the forest, and startled several creatures, which went flying or leaping, it seemed to us, among the branches or over the ground. One, however, in a little time came back again, and we saw a curious black face looking down upon us. “A monkey or baboon!” I cried out. A chattering cry was the answer, and the black face disappeared among the branches.
We could do little more towards preparing the sago that evening. On passing through a more open part of the forest, our eyes were gladdened by seeing some large fruit hanging from the top of some palm-trees. “Cocoa-nut!—cocoa-nut!” cried Macco. Yes; there was the long-coveted cocoa-nut; and apparently mature. Macco, as may be supposed, was very quickly at the top of the tree, and engaged in throwing down the nuts.
“Stay!” I cried out; “don’t pick more than are necessary, and we may have them fresh.”
We had soon torn off the fibrous covering, and knocked a hole in one of the eyes. How deliciously cool and sweet did the juice inside them taste!