THE CONVICT TRAIL 189 



and Easter eve these things led to the capture 

 of the Master of the Bush: For nothing in 

 the tropics is direct, premeditated. 



My thoughts were far from poisonous ser- 

 pents when Nupee came into our Kalacoon 

 laboratory late on a Saturday afternoon. Out- 

 doors he had deposited the coarser game in- 

 tended for the mess, consisting, today, of a small 

 deer, a tinamou or maam and two agoutis. But 

 now with his quiet smile, he held out his lesser 

 booty, which he always brought in to me, offer- 

 ing in his slender, effeminate hands his contribu- 

 tion to science. Usually this was a bird of 

 brilliant plumage, or a nestful of maam's eggs 

 with shells like great spheres of burnished 

 emeralds. These he would carry in a basket so 

 cunningly woven from a single palm frond that 

 it shared our interest in its contents. Today, 

 he presented two nestling trogons, and this was 

 against rules. For we desired only to know 

 where such nests were, there to go and study 

 and photograph. 



" Nupee, listen! You sabe we no want bird 

 here. Must go and show nest, eh?" 



" Me sabe." 



Accompanied by one of us, off he started 



