"You will have them, Jack," replied Mrs. Weldon, "because Mr. Harris
assures you of it."

"But that is not all," went on Jack. "My friend Dick has promised me
some other thing!"

"What then, has friend Dick promised?" asked Harris, smiling.

"Some humming-birds, sir."

"And you shall have some humming-birds, my good little man, but farther
on--farther on," replied Harris.

The fact is that little Jack had a right to claim some of these
charming creatures, for he was now in a country where they should
abound. The Indians, who know how to weave their feathers artistically,
have lavished the most poetical names on those jewels of the flying
race. They call them either the "rays" or the "hairs of the sun." Here,
it is "the little king of the flowers;" there, "the celestial flower
that comes in its flight to caress the terrestrial flower." It is again
"the bouquet of jewels, which sparkles in the fire of the day." It can
be believed that their imagination would know how to furnish a new
poetical appellation for each of the one hundred and fifty species
which constitute this marvelous tribe of humming-birds.

Meanwhile, however numerous these humming-birds might be in the forests
of Bolivia, little Jack was obliged to still content himself with
Harris's promise. According to the American, they were still too close
to the coast, and the humming-birds did not like these deserts so near