First in the Field Part 41

"But look here: are you really sure that you can see some of those parrots now?"

"Certain, sir," said Leather, smiling. "Try and follow my finger.

There: now you can see them."

Nic had a long look, and then shook his head in despair.

"I'm sorry you cannot see them, sir. Would you like me to shoot that bird for you?"

"Yes," cried Nic, holding out his gun. "No!" he said, drawing it sharply back.

"Because you think, sir, it is a ruse on my part to get possession of your gun and then go off as a bushranger," said Leather bitterly.

Nic coloured deeply as a girl, but he tossed up his head.

"Well," he said sharply, "that's true; I could not help thinking it."

"I suppose not," said the man sadly. And he turned away.

"You know you got hold of me out there by the precipice and talked about dropping me over."

"Yes," said Leather, starting. "It was the act of a fool; but I felt very bitter that day, sir."

"And how do I know that you don't feel bitter to-day?"

"Hah! How indeed!" cried the man.

Nic hesitated a moment, and then, ashamed of his suspicions, he held out the gun.

"Shoot the bird for me," he said.

Leather looked at him keenly.

"I don't think so now," said Nic, as the man drew back frowning. "I want the bird. I can't see it. I know you wouldn't trick me."

The man s.n.a.t.c.hed the gun almost fiercely, examining the priming; and it was hard work for Nic to stand fast and force himself not to believe that he had done a foolish thing. But he did stand firm and met Leather's flas.h.i.+ng eyes.

He was not long kept in suspense, for, without a moment's hesitation, Leather took aim. There was a flash, a puff of smoke and loud report, and a bird came rustling down through the twigs and boughs.

"A fact--not a ruse, sir," said Leather bitterly, as he handed back the gun.

"I beg your pardon," said the boy excitedly; and the man looked at him in wonder.

"People do not beg pardon of convicts," he said very shortly; and, bending down over the spot where the bird had fallen, he carefully parted the low growth into which the specimen had dived head first, and then, taking the beautifully coloured little creature by the hooked beak, he tenderly drew it out with the feathers falling back into their places, and hardly showing a mark.

"That is about as perfect as one can be, I think, sir," said Leather quietly.

"Lovely!" cried Nic enthusiastically. "How am I to get it home safely?"

"Take hold of it by the beak, sir, a moment," replied Leather; and, being relieved of the bird, he looked round till his eyes lit upon a peculiar-looking gra.s.s, one of the waving strands of which he picked, drew through his hand, and then pa.s.sed it through the bird's nostrils, twisted the ends together lightly, and handed the loop to Nic.

"That gra.s.s is nearly as tough as wire, sir," he said. "Carry it by that, letting it swing. Are you going to collect bird-skins, sir?"

"I'm going to try, Leather. I shall want to get a good white c.o.c.katoo,"

said Nic, eagerly plunging into the subject, so as to try and make up for the suspicion he had displayed.

"Oh yes, sir," said the man, who now showed not the slightest resentment. "There will be plenty of work for you in that way. You can get the sulphur crests, and those with orange crests, and the rose-coloured, and the pretty grey creamy-yellowish-cheeked birds which have the c.o.c.katoo's crest and the long tail of the paroquet."

"I don't know of these," said Nic eagerly.

"The country swarms with beautiful birds, sir, especially with those of the parrot tribe. There is the black c.o.c.katoo, for instance--not that you'll care for it."

"Why?" said Nic.

"Because it is ugly," said Leather, smiling, as if he enjoyed the boy's enthusiasm. "It is wanting in bright feathers, but it is a curious bird, with a tremendously strong beak."

"I must have a specimen, though," said Nic. "What others are there?"

"I can hardly tell you, sir. The parrots are in great variety. Stop: there are two gra.s.s parrots that I know of. One is a green bird striped all over across with a darker green, like the breast of a cuckoo or a hawk, and it has fairly long legs, which enable it to go about actively on the ground. Other parrots have, as you know, very short legs, only suitable for clinging and climbing in the trees."

"And the other--gra.s.s parrot you called it?"

"A lovely little creature, cross-barred like the ground parrot; but its colours are brilliant, and it is one of the most graceful-looking little birds of the kind."

"Why, Leather," cried Nic, "you are quite a naturalist! How do you know all this?"

"How could I help knowing, sir--spending days and weeks and months alone, out here in this great wild country, watching sheep or helping to hunt our stray cattle? What should I have done in a solitary bit of a hut without speaking to a fellow-creature perhaps for a month?"

"But you have not been like this?"

"Not since I have been at the Bluff, sir. When I came up the country to be Mr Dillon's servant I was almost constantly alone. They used to send me my rations now and then. It was a very solitary life."

"How lonely!"

"Yes, sir--lonely," said the man, with a tinge of bitterness in his tones; "but it had its advantages. There was no Brookes."

Nic started and looked keenly in the man's face; but he frowned and turned hastily away, as if angry at what he had said.

"I must be getting back to the sheep, sir," he said hurriedly. "They are terribly weak, foolish things, always catching some disease. I hope you will get your bird home safely, sir. I should skin it directly.

Things so soon go bad out in this hot place."

He turned away in among the trees; and Nic walked off with his gun over his shoulder, very thoughtful as he picked his way in and out among the bushes, till, feeling hot, he rested his gun against a bough, and sat down in the shade of one of the thick-foliaged, huge-trunked trees which seemed an exception to the rest--so many being thin-leaved and casting very little shade.

He had laid his specimen carefully down upon the gra.s.s, and was gazing at it without seeing any of its beauties, when a sudden thought struck him, and he sprang up to carefully reload his gun and place it before him.

"Mustn't forget that," he muttered. "Never know what may happen."

He sat down again in the pleasant shade to inspect his trophy; but once more he did not see it, for the convict's face filled his mind's eye, that lowering, sun-browned, fierce countenance which lit up at times with a smile that was sad and full of pain, and at others was so bright that the deep lines in the man's face faded, and he became attractive.