Nat the Naturalist: A Boy's Adventures in the Eastern Seas

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

  MY EARTHQUAKE.

  I said very little to my uncle about my alarm, feeling sure that hewould laugh very heartily at my mistake, but I lay awake for some littlewhile thinking that it was time I grew to be more manly and brave, andnot so ready to be frightened at everything I could not directlyunderstand. It seemed so shocking, too, for I might in my cowardly fearhave shot poor Ebo, who was one of the best and truest of fellows, andseemed never so happy as when able to do something for me.

  My last thoughts before I went to sleep were that I hoped I might growinto a brave and true man, and I determined to try hard not to be such aweak coward.

  I have often thought since, though, that if any ordinary man had beenplaced in the same situation he would have been as nervous as I; for toawake out of a deep sleep in a dark forest in a wild land, wheredangerous beasts might be lurking, to hear a peculiar rustling noise,and through the faint light to make out the figure of the black, lookingbig and indistinct as he crept on all-fours, was, to put it as you may,very startling.

  I was ready enough to laugh at all the dread when I awoke in the morningto find the sun just up, and sending his rays through the long vistas oftrees, where the birds were whistling, twittering, and screaming loudly,while every now and then from a distance came the hoarse cry of thebirds of paradise.

  "It is terribly tempting, Nat," said my uncle, "but I think we hadbetter make straight for camp and get a good breakfast before we doanything else. Hallo! what is Ebo doing?"

  "Making up the fire," I said; and directly the black had thrown on agreat armful of dead wood he came to us laughing and rubbing the frontof his person, squeezing himself in to show how empty he was, afterwhich he picked up a stick, took aim at a bird, said "_Bop_!" and ran topick it up; coming back laughing for us to applaud his performance.

  "Well, Nat, that's a piece of dumb-show that says very plainly we are toshoot some birds for breakfast before we do anything else, and it wouldperhaps be wise, so come along; there are some of our old friends inthat great palm-tree."

  I followed my uncle closely, and we had no difficulty in shooting threeof the great pigeons, which Ebo pounced upon and carried off in triumph,and in a few minutes they were roasting upon sticks, while our blackcook busied himself in climbing a cocoa-tree, from which he detachedhalf a dozen nuts, each of which came down with a tremendous thud.

  I was terribly hungry, but Uncle Dick said we should be worse if westopped there smelling the roasting pigeons. So we took our guns andwent across an opening to where there was tree after tree, rising somethirty or forty feet high, all covered with beautiful whitesweet-scented starry flowers, each with a tube running up from it likethat of a jasmine.

  All about this beautiful little birds were flitting, and as we watchedthem for some time I could see their feathers flash and glitter in thesunshine, as if some wore tiny helmets of burnished gold andbreastplates of purple glittering scales. No colours could paint thebeauty of these lovely little creatures, which seemed to be of severaldifferent kinds, for some had patches of scarlet, of orange, blue, andwhite to add to the brilliancy of their feathering; and so little usedwere they to the sight of man that they seemed to pay no attention tous, but allowed us to go very close, so that we could see them flit andhover and balance themselves before the sweet-scented starrybell-flowers, into whose depths they thrust their long thin beaks afterthe honey and insects that made them their home.

  I soon learned from my uncle that they were the sun-birds, the tinylittle fellows that were in the Old World what the humming-birds were inthe New, for there are no humming-birds in the East.

  Following Uncle Dick's example, I took the shot out of my gun, for hesaid that the concussion and the wad would be sufficient to bring themdown. But, somehow, we were so interested in what we saw that neitherof us thought of firing, and there we stood watching the glitteringfeathers, the graceful motions, and the rapidity with which these tinybirds seemed to flash from blossom to blossom, till a loud yell from Ebosummoned us to breakfast.

  "Yes, Nat," said my uncle, who seemed to read my thoughts, "that is theway to see the beauty of the sun-birds. No stuffed specimens of ourswill ever reproduce a hundredth part of their beauty; but people cannotalways come from England to see these things. Take care! What's that?"

  We were going through rather a dense patch of undergrowth, where theground beneath was very soft and full of water, evidently from someboggy springs. There was a great deal of cane and tall grass, withwater weeds of a most luxuriant growth, and the place felt hot andsteamy as we forced our way through, till, as I was going first andparting the waving canes right and left with my gun barrel, I steppedupon what seemed to be a big branch of a rotten tree that had fallenthere, when suddenly I felt myself lifted up a few inches and jerkedback, while at the same moment the canes and grass crashed and swayed,and something seemed to be in violent motion.

  "Is it an earthquake, uncle?" I said, looking aghast at the spot fromwhence had been jerked.

  "Yes, Nat, and there it goes. Fire, boy, fire!"

  He took rapid aim a little to the left, where the canes and broad-leavedplants were swaying to and fro in a curious way, just as if, it seemedthen, a little pig was rushing through, and following his example Ifired in the same direction.

  But our shots seemed to have no effect, and whatever it was dashed offinto a thicker part, where it was too swampy to follow even if we hadbeen so disposed.

  "Your earthquake has got away for the present, Nat," said my uncle."Did you see it?"

  "No, uncle," I said.

  "But you must have trodden upon it, and it threw you back."

  "No, uncle; I trod upon the trunk of a small tree, that was all."

  "You trod upon a large serpent, Nat, my boy," he exclaimed.

  "Ugh!" I ejaculated; and I made a jump back on to more solid ground.

  "The danger has passed now, Nat," he said, smiling at my dread; "butreally I could not have believed such a creature existed in so small anisland."

  "Oh, uncle!" I cried, "I shall never like to go about again for fear oftreading upon another."

  "You will soon get over that, Nat, and perhaps we may have the luck toshoot the brute. I don't think we did it much mischief this time,though I got a good sight of it as it glided amongst the canes."

  "Why, we had no shot in our guns, uncle," I cried; "we took them out soas not to knock the sun-birds about too much."

  "Of course!" cried my uncle. "How foolish of me not to remember this!"

  We had both reloaded now, and then, without heeding a shout from Ebo, westood looking in the direction taken by the reptile, though now all theluxuriant canes and grasses were quite still.

  "What do you say, Nat?" said my uncle. "Shall we follow the monster andtry and shoot it?"

  "It must be forty or fifty feet long, uncle," I said, feeling a curiouscreeping sensation run through me.

  "Forty or fifty nonsenses, my boy!" he said, laughing. "Such serpentsas that only exist in books. They rarely exceed twenty feet where theyare largest. That fellow would not be fifteen. What do you say--willyou come?"

  "Ye-es, uncle," I said hesitatingly, feeling hot and cold by turns.

  "Why, Nat," he said quietly, "you are afraid!" I did not speak for amoment or two, but felt the hot blood flush into my face as I stoodthere looking him full in the eyes, and unable to withdraw my gaze.

  "Yes, uncle," I said at last. "I did not want to be, but a serpent issuch a horrible thing, and I am afraid."

  "Yes, it is a horrible monster, Nat," he said quietly. "I don't likethem myself, but if we could kill it--"

  "I can't help feeling afraid, uncle," I said, "but I'm ready to go onnow."

  "What! to attack it, Nat?"

  "Yes, uncle."

  "It will be rather dangerous, my boy."

  "Yes, uncle," I said. "I suppose so; but I want to get over being soafraid of things. I'm quite ready now."

  I looked to hi
m to come on at once, but he did not move, and stoodlooking at me for some minutes without speaking.

  "Then we will go and attack the brute, Nat," he said; "but it will notgo away from that bit of a swamp, so we will try and put a little morenerve into our hearts with a good breakfast, and then have Ebo to helpus, unless he proves to be a worse coward than you."

  "He could not be, uncle," I said pitifully; and I felt very, verymiserable.

  "Oh! yes, he could be, Nat, my boy," said my uncle, smiling, andgrasping me affectionately by the arm. "You are a coward, Nat, but youfought with your natural dread, mastered it, and are ready to go andattack that beast. Master Ebo may be a coward and not fight with andmaster his dread. So you see the difference, my boy."

  Another shout from the black made us hasten our steps to where he wasdancing about and pointing to the crisp brown pigeons, big as chickens,with great green leaves for plates, and the new ripe cocoa-nuts divestedof their husks; but for a few moments I could not eat for thinking ofthe serpent. My fresh young appetite asserted itself though soon after,and, forgetting the danger to come, I made one of the most delicious ofmeals.