ut it was to be
supposed that this direction changed beyond that point, and that the
Mercy continued to the north-west, towards the spurs of Mount
Franklin, among which the river rose.

During one of these excursions, Gideon Spilett managed to get hold of
two couples of living gallinaceae. They were birds with long, thin
beaks, lengthened necks, short wings, and without any appearance of a
tail. Herbert rightly gave them the name of tinamons, and it was
resolved that they should be the first tenants of their future poultry
yard.

But till then the guns had not spoken, and the first report which
awoke the echoes of the forest of the Far West was provoked by the
appearance of a beautiful bird, resembling the kingfisher.

"I recognise him!" cried Pencroft, and it seemed as if his gun went
off by itself.

"What do you recognise?" asked the reporter.

"The bird which escaped us on our first excursion, and from which we
gave the name to that part of the forest."

"A jacamar!" cried Herbert.

It was indeed a jacamar, of which the plumage shines with a metallic
lustre. A shot brought it to the ground, and Top carried it to the
canoe. At the same time half a dozen lories were brought down. The
lory is of the size of a pigeon, the plumage dashed with green, part
of the wings crimson, and its crest bordered with white. To the young
boy belonged the honour of this shot, and he was proud enough of it.
Lories are better food than the jacamar, the flesh of which is rather
tough, but it was difficult to persuade Pencroft that he had not
killed the king of eatable birds. It was ten o'clock in the morning
when the canoe reached a second angle of the Mercy, nearly five miles
from its mouth. Here a halt was made for breakfast under the shade of
some splendid trees. The river still measured from sixty to seventy
feet in breadth, and its bed from five to six feet in depth. The
engineer had observed that it was increased by numerous affluents, but
they were unnavigable, being simply little streams. As to the forest,
including Jacamar Wood, as well as the forests of the Far West, it
extended as far as the eye could reach. In no place, either in the
depths of the forest or under the trees on the banks of the Mercy, was
the presence of man revealed. The explorers could not discover one
suspicious trace. It was evident that the woodman's axe had never
touched these trees, that the pioneer's knife had never severed the
creepers hanging f