The Terror by Night. 83 



A wonderful talkin,q- Red-breasted Cockatoo in his g-ilded 

 cas^e adorned one window, and in tlie other a maHg-nant-eyed 

 Conure watched the world throu.^h his prison bars. 



But the little birds took life as it came, and fottnd it good, 

 until one fatal night when an evil presence made itself felt. An 

 awful something that came and went, leaving behind it desola- 

 tion and dread, and the manner of its visitation was in this way. 



The night had passed as other nights; no sound had 

 come from the birdroom to disturb any wakeful ears. The 

 morning sun peeped in at the tiny casement windows : the 

 Cockatoo swung in his swing: the Conure screamed a welcome. 

 All seeiued the same, and yet over all there hung a cloud of fear. 

 Something had passed that way and we were on unholy ground ! 



We came to the happy home of the little birds who dwelt 

 in harmony together, but the tiny sweet waxbills, the dear grave 

 nuns, the merry Spice Birds — what had happened to them? 



Here the Blight had fallen. One had disappeared 

 without leaving a feather of destiny behind him. Another was 

 dying where he lay: a third had given a leg to Moloch; another 

 — but why continue ? There was not a trace of the horrible 

 thing that had caused this woe; not a wire displaced; not a mark 

 on the sand. Rats? No rat could have gained entrance 

 through that strong close-meshed wire ; not a hole or a crevice 

 through which he could have passed to his murderous work. 

 Xo rat had done this evil deed. 



Traps were set that night, baited by a cunning hand. Poison 

 laid down — all in vain. ()ne by one the birds disappeared, 

 leaving no trace behind. Night after night we waited and 

 watched, but on those occasions the horror that we called " it " 

 never appeared. 



Hour after hour I lay awake and " waited for a footstep 

 and listened for a word," but beyond the low muttering voice 

 of the Conure, who conversed at unholy times with the powers 

 of darkness, T heard nothing. Was it the Conure I heard? 

 Looking back T wonder! In despair we shut up there our 



