224 COLLECTOR'S RAMBLES 



at the spot, I found that the croaking came from a 

 tree ; and, cautiously pushing my way through the 

 bushes, saw a black bird sitting on a branch a hun- 

 dred yards away. As he turned his head, a gorgeous 

 scaly shield of a metallic blue color, on his throat and 

 breast, was revealed, making it evident that he was 

 nothing less than the magnificent rifle-bird (Ptiloris 

 magnified), one of the loveliest and richest creatures in 

 creation. He did not give me long to admire his plu- 

 mage ; for, with a guttural croak, he started off, every 

 stroke of his wings squeaking as if two pieces of crisp 

 silk had been rubbed together. 



The ground was very rough, and the creepers and 

 small vines made walking all but impossible ; but I 

 had been stimulated by that sight, and felt as though I 

 must not fail to secure him. He did not fly far at a 

 time, and seemed to have a certain district, beyond 

 which he would not go. He was very wary, and I 

 seldom obtained a glimpse of him, except just as he 

 started from a tree, in the distance. It began to grow 

 dusk, and I feared I should have to give up the chase. 

 As I was debating whether to remain any longer, he 

 alighted in a tree not far off, and I blazed away. I 

 did not see him drop ; but when I went to the spot, he 

 lay stretched upon the ground, every feather in place. 

 As I lifted him by his long beak, his breast and head 

 sparkling with blue, purple, and gold, the rest of his 

 plumage being like the richest black silk velvet, touched 



