he had made a good fire, the kettle was
boiling, and we should have begun breakfast at once if it had not been
for Mr Ebony's preparations. He had lost no time, but had slit off
some great chunks of solid fish, placing them on great bamboo skewers to
roast, washing his hands afterwards with great nicety, and then scooping
up the dry warm sand and letting it trickle over his fingers, palms, and
wrists, until they were dry.

"I have not been idle, you see, Nat," said my uncle, pointing to a newly
made skin, that of a very lovely little green lory with a delicate
peach-coloured head, the separation from the green feathers being marked
by a deep black collar which gave the bird a neatness and beauty that
was very attractive to the eye.

But Mr Ebony was not satisfied with his contribution to the breakfast,
for, striking me on the breast, pointing to the fire, and saying, "Ikan,
Ikan, youf, youf," several times over, I repeated them to his
satisfaction, understanding that he meant I was to mind the fish, and
then he went off quickly.

"Ikan," said my uncle, "that's the Malay word for fish, so I suppose
they use some Malay words though their language is quite different."

"Then he said, `youf, youf,' uncle."

"Yes: youf must mean cooking or fire, which is api in the Malay tongue.
But this fresh morning air gives me an appetite, Nat. I hope he won't
be long; turn the fish, my lad, it's burning."

"No, uncle, it's only brown," I replied, altering the position of the
great collops; "but how beautiful it smells!"

"Yes, Nat, we want no fish sauces out here, my boy."

"Where did you shoot that beautiful lory, uncle?" I asked.

"It was in that palm-tree close to us, Nat," he replied; "and now, while
we are waiting, I'll put together a few boxes and the butterfly-nets and
the cyanide bottle, ready for a start directly after breakfast."

"Shall you take the guns, uncle?"

"Only one, Nat, and we'll carry it in turn," he replied. "This is to be
a butterfly and beetle day, so we will not go far in any direction, but
keep within reach of the camp so as to come back for food and rest. It
will save us from having to carry provisions."

Just then we saw Mr Ebony coming towards us loaded with a basket of
fruit, which he placed on the sand, and then after a dance round us he
plumped down by the fire and picked out the skewers where the fish was
most done, handing one to each, and our breakfast began.

Mr Ebony thoroughly e