HOW WE FARED. 233 



that old tree or that hole in the ground where there is 

 a goodly store of the sweet food into which he is long- 

 ing to plunge his bill ; but, unfortunately, he cannot 

 get it out for himself, and must needs call in the aid 

 of a human ally to take the nest. So he wanders hither 

 and thither, and, hailing the first person he meets, flies 

 close up to him, chirping and calling loudly to attract 

 attention, and behaving altogether in such a confidingly 

 familiar and impudent manner that strangers unaccus- 

 tomed to his ways would take him for a tame bird 

 escaped from his cage. If you refuse to follow him he 

 gets very angry, and shows his impatience by flying 

 backwards and forwards, chirping excitedly; but if 

 his guidance is accepted although he may give you a 

 very long, rough walk he will lead you without fail 

 to the nest. 



As soon as the spot is reached he changes his note ; 

 and, while his featherless partner secures the prize, he 

 sits close by, watching the proceedings with intense 

 interest, and waiting for his share of the plunder. The 

 natives are always superstitiously careful to leave him 

 a liberal portion; for they credit him with a very 

 vindictive disposition, and say that if any one is base 

 enough to refuse him his well-earned reward, he will 

 revenge himself on the next person he meets, however 

 innocent the latter may be, and, under pretence of 

 taking him to a bees' nest, will lure him to the lair of 

 a leopard, the hole of a venomous snake, or some other 

 equally undesirable spot. 



One day T , on a long homeward ride, was way- 



