so novel evidently
to them, that the two hunters had a chance to get close up, and taking
his time from the major, Mark fixed the quivering sight of his gun on
one of the birds, and drew trigger just as the major fired twice.

As the smoke blew away there was a whirring of wings and three heavy
thuds upon the ground.

Away went the birds, but only about fifty yards more, to settle again,
Bruff keeping up with them, and again taking their attention by barking
furiously.

The manoeuvres of approaching were again successfully gone through, and
this time the major whispered:

"Loaded again?"

"Yes."

"Then fire both barrels this time. Try and get a right and left.
Fire!"

Their pieces went off simultaneously the first time; then the major's
second barrel rang out, and Mark's second directly afterwards, and by
sheer luck--ill-luck for the birds--he brought down his first bird from
the branch of the tree dead, and in his random flying shot winged one of
the others so badly that it fell, and Bruff caught it before it had time
to recover and race away.

"Hurrah!" shouted the major as the diminished flock now flew inland over
the jungle. "Seven birds, Mark: a load. And you said you couldn't
shoot! Why, it's glorious!"

"I'm sure it was accident, sir," said Mark with his cheeks burning.

"Then bless all such accidents say I, a hungry man!"

"Yah!" came faintly from a distance.

"What's that?" cried the major.

"Yah!" came again, or what sounded like it, for to their startled ears
it was more like a savage yell.

"Load quickly," cried the major, setting the example. "Savages at last.
Now, the birds and a quick retreat. Wonder how heavy they are; but
save them I will if I have a stand to defend them, and send you back for
help."

Mark caught up his heavy birds and ran back with the major to where the
first they had shot lay, while from behind came another yell, and
looking over his shoulder Mark saw that a spear-armed figure was coming
rapidly in pursuit.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

HOW MARK FOUND SOMETHING THAT WAS NOT GAME.

They had not far to go, but in a hot sun, and with the double guns,
ammunition, and the heavy birds, they were panting and in a profuse
perspiration.

"Can't do impossibilities, Mark, my lad," cried the major. "We must
either run for it without our game, or stop and fight for it."

"Oh!" cried Mark; "we can't leave the birds."

"But you can't fight," cried the major, who,