be scarcely audible; then all at once it would ring out bright
and clear within a few yards of me, as if the shy little thing
had suddenly grown bold; but, far or near, the vocalist remained
invisible, and at length the tantalizing melody ceased
altogether.



CHAPTER III

I was not disappointed on my next visit to the forest, nor on
several succeeding visits; and this seemed to show that if I was
right in believing that these strange, melodious utterances
proceeded from one individual, then the bird or being, although
still refusing to show itself, was always on the watch for my
appearance and followed me wherever I went. This thought only
served to increase my curiosity; I was constantly pondering over
the subject, and at last concluded that it would be best to
induce one of the Indians to go with me to the wood on the chance
of his being able to explain the mystery.

One of the treasures I had managed to preserve in my sojourn with
these children of nature, who were always anxious to become
possessors of my belongings, was a small prettily fashioned metal
match-box, opening with a spring. Remembering that Kua-ko, among
others, had looked at this trifle with covetous eyes--the
covetous way in which they all looked at it had given it a
fictitious value in my own--I tried to bribe him with the offer
of it to accompany me to my favourite haunt. The brave young
hunter refused again and again; but on each occasion he offered