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 at the top of the high trees, for which the birds of paradise have a preference. Sometimes they secure them with a kind of bird-lime. They sometimes even poison the pools where the birds drink. But we were reduced to taking flying shots at them, which left us little chance of success; and in fact we did expend some of our ammunition in vain. Towards eleven o’clock we had crossed the hills which rise in the centre of the island, and had hitherto killed nothing. Hunger began to attack us.

The sportsmen had trusted to the produce of their skill, and had been mistaken. Fortunately Conseil, to his own great amazement, fired “right and left,” and secured our breakfast. He killed a white pigeon and a wood-pigeon, which quickly were plucked, and, suspended to a stick, were roasted over a fire of dead wood. While these interesting fowls were cooking, Ned prepared the bread-fruit. Then the pigeons were eaten, the bones picked, and the meal declared excellent. The nutmeg, upon which they feed, perfumes their flesh and gives it a pleasant flavour.

“It is as if the fowls had been fed upon ‘trouffles,’” said Conseil.

“Now Ned, what do you want?” I said.

“Some four-footed game, M. Aronnax,” he replied. “All these pigeons are only side-dishes, and whets for the appetite. So until I have killed some animal available for cutlets, I shall not be satisfied.”

“Nor shall I, Ned, unless I catch a bird of paradise.”

“Let us go, then,” replied Conseil, “but in the direction of our boat. We have reached the first