we were not only rewarded with another in equally perfect plumage, but I was
enabled to see a little of the habits of both it and the larger species. It frequents
the lower trees of the less dense forests: and is very active, flying strongly with a
whirring sound, and continually hopping or flying from branch to branch. It eats
hard stone-bearing fruits as large as a gooseberry, and often flutters its wings
after the manner of the South American manakins, at which time it elevates and
expands the beautiful fans with which its breast is adorned. The natives of Aru
call it "Goby-goby."
One day I get under a tree where a number of the Great Paradise birds were
assembled, but they were high up in the thickest of the foliage, and flying and
jumping about so continually that I could get no good view of them. At length I
shot one, but it was a young specimen, and was entirely of a rich chocolate-
brown colour, without either the metallic green throat or yellow plumes of the
full-grown bird. All that I had yet seen resembled this, and the natives told me
that it would be about two months before any would be found in full plumage. I
still hoped, therefore, to get some. Their voice is most extraordinary. At early
morn, before the sun has risen, we hear a loud cry of "Wawk-wawk-wawk, wók-
wók-wók," which resounds through the forest, changing its direction continually.
This is the Great Bird of Paradise going to seek his breakfast. Others soon follow
his example; lories and parroquets cry shrilly, cockatoos scream, king-hunters
croak and bark, and the various smaller birds chirp and whistle their morning
song. As I lie listening to these interesting sounds, I realize my position as the
first European who has ever lived for months together in the Aru islands, a place
which I had hoped rather than expected ever to visit. I think how many besides
my self have longed to reach these almost fairy realms, and to see with their own
eyes the many wonderful and beautiful things which I am daily encountering.
But now Ali and Baderoon are up and getting ready their guns and ammunition,
and little Brio has his fire lighted and is boiling my coffee, and I remember that I
had a black cockatoo brought in late last night, which I must skin immediately,
and so I jump up and begin my day's work very happily.
This cockatoo is the first I have seen, and is a great prize. It has a rather small
and weak body, long weak legs, large wings, and an enormously developed
head, ornamented with a magnificent crest, and armed with a sharp-pointed
hoofed bill of immense size and strength. The plumage is entirely black, but has
all over it the curious powdery white secretion characteristic of cockatoo. The
cheeks are bare, and of an intense blood-red colour. Instead of the harsh scream
of the white cockatoos, its voice is a somewhat plaintive whistle. The tongue is a
curious organ, being a slender fleshy cylinder of a deep red colour, terminated