HOW I CAUGHT A TARTAR. 



63 



shoulder. He was afraid of the report of my gun, 

 fortunately for me, for the fear was always haunting 

 me that he would 

 surely recollect 

 the circumstances 

 of our first meet- 

 ing, if he ev^er saw 

 me shoot another 

 bird. In fact, af- 

 ter he had been 

 gravely watching 

 me one day en- 

 gaged in skinning 

 and preparing 

 some birds I had 

 shot, he suddenly 

 broke a long pe- 

 riod of silence with 

 a piercing shriek, 



and sidled off to a distance, where he regarded me 

 with looks of horror, or so it seemed to me. I felt 

 so guilty that I hardly dared look him in the face ; 

 but that flash of recollection soon faded, apparently, 

 or his great heart resolved on abnegation, for he came 

 back eventually to his post on my shoulder. 



We had long talks together, and I tried to set be- 

 fore him the many virtues of " Polly Crusoe," who 

 lived with her master " no less than six and twenty 

 Years " ; but Psittacus, though he would listen with 

 all gravity and attention, evidently didn't approve of 

 Polly Crusoe, for he would jabber a long protest in 



Parrots of Toba«?o. 



