THE HAUNTS OF THE PARROT. 125 
trate our leafy grove. Meyong made but little fire, 
just enough for the preparation of our coffee, for the 
wary parrots would detect our whereabouts, and de- 
part farther up the mountain. We heard the faint 
cry of one, answered by another, far down the moun- 
tain-side, and this stimulated us to extra haste in 
departing. 
Coryet and Meyong were to descend by a ravine to 
a valley, while I was to follow along the ridge a mile 
or so, and take my stand beneath a tall tree which was 
accurately described. I preferred going alone, as I 
ever do when hunting, not only from the fact that less 
noise would attend me, but that then I could indulge to 
the full that communion with nature which the pres- 
ence of a companion always interrupts, or rudely 
breaks. 
It was still gloomy in the forest; a shower had 
fallen during the night, and leaves, vines, and ferns 
were heavy with moisture. Noiselessly I pursued my 
way, indulging in that sweet reverie which solitude in 
a great forest always excites. Suddenly there broke 
upon the stillness the faint report of a gun. This at 
once stirred the blood in my veins, as my boys had 
promised not to shoot at any other bird than the im- 
perial parrot, and I hoped that this announced the 
capture of one. Impatiently resting beneath the huge 
tree, and concealing myself in a bower of orchids and 
hanging ferns, I waited for something to appear. 
Soon the harsh screams of parrots broke upon my 
ear, and a flock of ten or twelve swept through the 
woods like a whirlwind, just beyond range. They 
were the small green parrot, another species, but 
equally desirable with the larger. Then all was still 
