hat great tree there is
quite a cluster of them. Steal up softly; you round that way, I will go
this. We shall one of us get a shot, I dare say."

I made a little circuit in obedience to my uncle's orders, and we crept
up softly towards where a huge tree rose like a pillar to a tremendous
height before sending out a branch, and there, just dimly seen in the
soft twilight beneath the canopy of leaves, were several huge birds,
which took flight with a great rattle of wings as we came near.

There was the quick report of my uncle's gun, closely followed by mine,
and one bird fell heavily to the ground, the others disappearing from
view beyond the trees; but just then our companion uttered a shout and
dashed on ahead, to return in a few minutes with a second bird which his
quick eyes had detected as wounded, and he had seen it drop into a tree
some distance off, and then fall, to lead him a long chase before he
secured it and brought it back.

Meanwhile we were both kneeling beside the first, which had fallen in a
patch of open ground where the sun came down, and I shall never forget
the delight with which I gazed at its wonderfully beautiful plumage.

"A pigeon, you see, Nat," said my uncle; "and a fine one too."

"Is that a pigeon, uncle?" I said wonderingly.

"To be sure it is, my boy, and--"

_Crack_!

"That was a thrush, if I am not mistaken."

I ran and picked up a bird that he shot in the middle of his speech, as
it flew over some low bushes, and brought it back in triumph.

"No, uncle, it is not a thrush," I cried. "It is a lovely blue and grey
bird."

"What is it, then, Nat?" he said, smiling. "Have you forgotten all I
told you about the representatives of our home birds being bright in
colour?"

"But I did not think a thrush could be all of a lovely pale blue,
uncle," I said; "and I never saw such a pigeon as that. Why, its back
and wings are almost as green as those cuckoos--the trogons--and what
beautiful feet and eyes! Oh! uncle," I said, "I am glad we came."

He smiled as he knelt down and carefully smoothed the feathers of the
great pigeon, thrusting a little cotton-wool into its beak to soak up
any moisture that might escape and damage the feathers.

"We shall, I believe, find plenty of magnificent pigeons out here, Nat,"
he said, as I eagerly watched his acts, so as to know what to do next
time.

"But I never expected to find pigeons, uncle, with gold and violet
reflections on thei