PART II.

I have no more pieces of naughtiness to relate, for at the time this story begins ten years had passed, and I had returned to Jamaica a tall young lady of sixteen. Jessie was, as you may remember, nearly two years younger; she had certainly grown taller, but was still only a little creature, with large dark eyes, which had a most beseeching look in them, as if she was asking everybody to take care of her. I have never seen anyone with such beautiful hair: it was dark brown, and in such quantity, that when she was sitting on an ordinary chair to have it brushed, it touched the ground. She was always singing, just like a bird; and it used to be a great puzzle to me how she could possibly remember the words of 55all her songs. Jessie and I had one very decided taste in common, and that was our great love of pets of all kinds, especially of birds. Whilst we lived in England we never could sufficiently indulge this hobby, for the schoolroom maid rebelled against taking care of more than one cage of canaries, so we were obliged to be satisfied with that; but when we returned to our beautiful summer home in the mountains of Jamaica, we collected a little zoological garden around us in a few months, and it is about these pets I am now going to tell you.

I am sure you will like me to begin, as always, at the very beginning, so I shall first mention that, as soon as we were all settled in our mountain cottage, Jessie and I begged Mamma to allow our rooms to be changed to the only two which were downstairs. In hot countries the sleeping rooms are always upstairs, partly to be cooler, and partly to avoid the risk of venomous insects; but there was no danger of heat where our little summer home was built, for the nights were always cold enough to allow us to use a 56blanket; and as for the scorpions, centipedes, ants, &c., we thought we could protect ourselves against them. We had discovered two charming little rooms side by side, downstairs, opening with French windows on a verandah, the pillars of which were covered with beautiful creepers: from this verandah you stepped on a lawn sheltered from the sun by a grove of orange and mango trees, towards the south-east, and beyond that lay the garden, which sloped down to a long valley, divided into paddocks of the tall, bright green Guinea grass (so called because the seed was brought from Guinea, on the coast of Africa), of which the cows and horses were so fond.

The chief reason Jessie and I begged for these rooms was, that the verandah and the adjoining trees would be so nice for all our pets, and after some hesitation and a great many warnings, against snakes, scorpions, and other insects, Mamma at last consented to allow us to change; so for a few days we were happy, and busy moving all our absurd little possessions down to their new quarters, which had 57hitherto only been used by gentlemen visitors, and were generally called the ‘Bachelor rooms.’ It took us some time to arrange our pictures, books, and ornaments to our own satisfaction; and dear Mamma was often called upon to give her opinion on our devices.

But the very first thing to be attended to was the comfort of the pets, and they certainly must have approved of the change. The parrots at once established themselves in a large tree, and we watched them with great delight clambering about its branches, nibbling at the fruit, and chattering incessantly. They were nine in number, and had been brought to us at different times in the nest some months before, when their beaks were quite soft, and we had to feed them on boiled rice and sugar. Nothing could be tamer than these birds were; when we sat down in our rocking chairs in the verandah, they used to scramble and flutter out of their tree, and come waddling towards us in a great hurry with their toes turned in, clambering up the arms of the 58chairs in the hope of getting a piece of sugar cane. I am sorry to say, however, that not one of our parrots could speak at all well; they whistled and chattered incessantly in their own way, but it was very difficult to teach them even a word or two, and their voices were thick and husky. It required a great many lessons before the cleverest of them could learn so much as a bar of one of Jessie’s songs; and when he began to practise, all the other birds had a most insulting way of stopping their own chatter to listen to his ‘tra-la-la,’ and going off into peals of laughter, mingled with the negro exclamations of ‘Hi hi,’ or ‘My king!’ This conduct affronted Master Bully—that was his name, bestowed on account of his tyrannical and greedy nature—very much, and he always ceased the song directly the laughter began, and sat sulkily ruffling up his feathers. They were all of the same kind, these parrots; rather small, of a blight emerald-green colour, with a few red and blue wing feathers, and a gay yellow top-knot; their beaks were quite black, and so were their tongues. 59Their wings were cut to keep them from joining the flocks of wild parrots which constantly flew overhead. Their greatest enemies were the owls, who used to swoop upon the poor sleeping Polly and carry it off at night; we lost two in this way before we discovered the cause, but then we taught them to go to roost every evening in a large wooden cage under shelter of the verandah, the door of which was securely fastened, and our noisy pets lived to a good old age. It is the custom in Jamaica to have a cup of coffee brought to your bedside every morning at six o’clock, and as soon as our black maid ‘Rosetta’ had awakened us, she used to open the French windows into the verandah, unfasten the door of the parrots’ cage, and place a saucer of bread and milk on the threshold where we could see it. In a moment all the parrots were round it chattering and gobbling it up; Bully had a bad habit of getting into the saucer and trampling the food into a mess, so Jessie and I were obliged to take it by turns to get up and drive him away and see fair play. As 60soon as they had finished their breakfast, they set off as fast as they could waddle to an enormous shallow pan of water, which was sunk to the level of the ground and filled twice a day with fresh water. It was such fun to watch them splashing and dashing the water over each other, enjoying their bath thoroughly; then they betook themselves to the shelter of the trees, and there dried and pruned their feathers, spending the remainder of their time in eating fruit and clambering about. In the middle of the day they generally took a nap, and the quiet which reigned during that time was most remarkable.

We had also a cage full of love-birds, a sort of paroquet which comes from Carthagena in South America; but though these pretty little things were very affectionate to each other and to us, I must confess they were rather stupid pets. They sat close together in pairs all day long, occasionally uttering a little chirrup and caressing each other with their tiny bills; but they either had very delicate constitutions, or else they were very greedy, for they all died 61one after another from fits caused by over-eating themselves and swallowing their food in a hurry. One love-bird of a stronger digestion than the rest survived some months, but he also had a daily fit in the middle of his dinner. I was so accustomed at last to this performance, that it was quite a surprise to me one day to observe him lying by the side of his little saucer longer than usual, and to find on a closer examination that he had shared the fate of his brothers and sisters.

Jessie’s especial favourites among our birds were her own white doves, and certainly they were lovely creatures, so soft and snowy, perfectly tame, and never so happy as when nestling close to their beloved little mistress. I have often thought since what a pretty picture might have been made of Jessie, in her white dress, seated on the marble step of the verandah, its arch festooned with creepers forming a frame for her figure, her dark hair twisted into a thick coronet round her head, with generally a wild flower stuck into it, her guitar with its broad 62riband lying on her knee, and these white doves on her shoulder, listening apparently with great attention to her sweet voice crooning some quaint old ballad for the delight of the younger children who were seated on the grass at her feet. These doves met, however, with a most tragical fate, and I must tell you all about it.

Jessie always took their bamboo cage into her own room at dusk for greater security; and one night, just after we had all separated to go to bed, I was very much frightened at my poor little sister suddenly bursting into my room as pale as a ghost, and perfectly speechless with terror; she looked so horrified that my alarm was quite as great as hers, though I did not know what was the matter. She really could not speak, though she tried to do so, but seized my arm and dragged me towards her room, which, as I have told you, was next to mine, but with no door between. At first I thought Jessie must have gone suddenly mad, for everything there looked just as usual, and I could not see any cause 63for all this agitation. She did not, however, let my arm go, but pulled me towards a recess where the doves’ cage stood on a low table. There, indeed, I saw a horrible sight; a huge yellow snake, with loathsome black spots all over it, had forced its way in through the slender, elastic bamboo bars of the cage, and lay coiled up at the bottom, with its flat head raised, its forked tongue sticking out, and its small cruel eyes fixed on the only surviving dove. It had already swallowed one, and the end of the survivor was very near. Poor little ‘Selim’ was on the lowest perch swaying backwards and forwards, gazing at the snake; at last he sank slowly down, just as if he had fainted, and in an instant had almost disappeared among the coils of the horrid snake’s body. I never saw anything so rapid as the way the reptile crushed the dear little helpless dove the moment it dropped within its reach. Jessie gave such a shriek that I feared the snake would be roused and perhaps escape, but he was too intent on his supper to mind us, so I took courage, and proposed 64to go for our old Portuguese butler, who I thought would know what to do. Jessie still clung to me, sobbing, and we found the old man’s room, roused him up, and whilst he was dressing we remembered our schoolboy brother, who would be certain to enjoy a scrimmage at any hour of the day or night, and, in answer to our knocks at his door, he soon appeared, as quickly dressed as if he had gone to bed with half his clothes on!

When we returned with this reinforcement to Jessie’s room, the dove was dead, but the snake had not yet quite swallowed it; and here I must tell you how curiously it had prepared the poor little plump bird to go down its narrow throat. Those dreadful squeezes among its coils had broken all the dove’s bones, and the snake had carefully licked its feathers the reverse way, so that instead of being a fat snowy ball, it was of a great length, and so drawn out that it was quite thin; the snake was leisurely proceeding to swallow it, and we could see by the bulges exactly where the other dove was in 65its horrid body. The old butler first cut off the bamboos which formed a sort of dome to the cage, and then he and Harry prepared to kill the half-gorged snake, but, before they struck the first blow, Jessie and I went into my room, as we could not bear to see it.

In a few moments Harry triumphantly announced that it was all over, but he seemed rather disappointed at the snake not showing any fight. It was not venomous: none of the large snakes in Jamaica are so, being only dangerous to the poultry-yard, and particularly fond of newly-hatched ducks and chickens or even a baby-turkey. There is a very small snake, only two feet long, called the ‘whip snake,’ from its resemblance to the lash of a driving whip, which is said to give a poisonous bite, and is apt to make its way into cellars, as it is fond of a cold, damp place. I never heard, however, of any one being bitten even by this reptile.

I killed a very large snake once all by myself; and, though it was quite by accident, I felt as 66proud as if I had performed a great feat of strength or valour. I was dressed for riding, and had my whip in my hand, but being very thirsty I went into the bath-room to see if the water in the great earthenware Spanish jars was any cooler than that in my bedroom. The walls of this bath-room were made of jalousies, which could be left open all night, so as to allow the cool air from the mountains to get in and make the water in the big cedar tubs fresh and nice for our morning bath. Whilst I was drinking some deliciously cold water very slowly and with great enjoyment, a large snake suddenly thrust its head through the open jalousies, and began greedily drinking out of the very jar from which I had just taken a tumblerful of water. It was so thirsty it did not perceive me at first, but in a moment it raised its head and hissed at me. I thought this so impertinent that, without thinking I should hurt it in the least, I gave it a smart tap with my little riding whip. The snake shrank back, and I heard a heavy fall on the grass 67outside. Of course I immediately looked out of the window to see where it was going, but to my surprise it lay quite still, so I called Harry to back me up in case of danger, and we went to examine it nearer. It was actually quite dead. Harry was as much astonished as I was at my little blow having had such an effect, and he immediately proceeded to measure my victim, triumphantly proclaiming it to be over six feet long.

We used often to find the skins of these snakes in old stone walls, for they shed them every year, and the roughness of the stones helps the snake to pull its skin neatly off its head, turning it inside out like a glove. We generally found them quite perfect and unbroken: in this state they were very pretty, pure white, the little scales glistening in the light with all the colours of the rainbow, just as if they were made of the thinnest fibre of mother-of-pearl, and even the places where the snake’s eyes had been were perfect little circles.

But now I must come back to the pets. The 68tortoises were very quiet, but not very amusing protégés; they lived in a little pond with some rock work in the middle for shelter from the sun. They were no bigger than half-crowns when we first got them, and they grew very slowly. We used to feed them twice a day with raw meat cut up into very fine pieces; at our whistle the tortoises would leave the shelter of their rocks and come paddling slowly towards us, looking out carefully for danger. If anything alarmed them they would draw in their queer little heads, tuck up their fins, or rather feet, and sink down to the bottom of the pond; but we generally took care not to frighten them, and they would eat their dinners very leisurely off the point of a pin. They all disappeared in time; and as we never could find any trace of their bodies, we fancied they must have contrived to escape and make their way to some of the very large reservoirs which were in the paddocks for the cows and horses to drink from, as there was no river near.

69Then we had owls and hawks, and once we had a beautiful pair of Egrets given to us. We did not know what these birds were at first, as no one had ever seen any like them, and it was only by hunting through the picture-books about birds that we discovered their likeness under that name. They were flying overhead when some tiresome person, who happened to have a gun in his hand, shot at them, wounding the female, who fluttered to the ground, and her mate would not desert her, and was easily captured. They were exquisitely beautiful, though with fierce wild natures. Their legs were bright red and rather long, but their plumage was very peculiar—milk-white, and the feathers which composed their tails and their large crests or topknots were fluffy, like marabout, or the down of the eider duck. We fed them on raw meat at the risk of having our eyes pecked out, and our fingers were soon covered with wounds, but we bravely persevered, and tried all the surgical art we possessed to heal the poor broken wing of the female 70but she only lingered a few days, and then died in great pain, I fear. Her mate became still more fierce and untameable, and we were afraid to let him out of his large cage lest he should share his wife’s fate. He ate well and seemed healthy, but very restless and miserable, and we could only keep him alive for three or four months.

I must tell you how we came by our most favorite owl. One of the spare rooms had a large open hearth in it which was generally covered up by a board, and against this was placed a chest of drawers, as the fireplace was neither ornamental nor useful, for it was never cold enough to make a fire really necessary, even on the high table-land in the middle of Jamaica, where we spent our summers. However, after a week of heavy rain, Jessie and I took it into our heads that we should like to have a fire in this particular room. I really believe our only reason was a wish to see a blaze again, it was so long since we had enjoyed one; and as some visitors were coming in a few days, we 71pretended to be very anxious lest the room might have got damp during the late rains. Nothing was easier than to have some sweet-scented chips brought and some great dry logs of cedar, which made a delicious perfume; and Jessie and I rejoiced in a splendid fire, though we were obliged to have all the windows open on account of the heat, and the fire was never replenished. We soon left the room, and one of the housemaids, who looked in on passing, thought the fire was quite out, as she could only see a heap of white feathery ashes, so she carefully replaced the board and moved the chest of drawers back again to its place against it. In a short time the house was filled with the most unpleasant odour; we all began hunting about for the cause; and although we tracked the smell to this spare room, it never occurred to us to have the board removed again until Mamma appeared on the scene and immediately had it taken away. I don’t know which was the worst, the sight or the smell. The great draught caused by putting up the board must have 72carried some of the light ashes which were not quite extinguished up to the top of the chimney, where a whole colony of owls had built their nests for years past. The twigs and straw were soon ablaze, and as the bottom of the nests gave way, the young owls came tumbling down the chimney to meet a lingering death on the hot bricks of the hearth. There were owls in every stage of roasting; some quite dead, and others struggling among the hot ashes. They were more hideous to look at than you can imagine, for, at its best, a young owl is a frightful looking object, with its awkward unwieldy body, quite bare of feathers, with patches of down on it; and then its wide face and great goggle eyes blinking and staring at you. Whilst we were in our first moment of horror and disgust, another victim fluttered and fell down the wide chimney, but before it could reach the hot hearth Harry had rushed forward and seized it, so it was quite uninjured, and Jessie and I immediately took possession of the ugly little creature, making a great pet of it, and rearing 73it most successfully. As soon as it came to years, or rather weeks, of discretion we gave it its liberty, but ‘Moses’ always retained a grateful recollection of our care; and if we called him at night when we saw other owls flitting about, he was sure to come to us and allow himself to be stroked and petted as of old. I used to like to bury my face in the soft feathers at the top of his head, and ‘Moses’ would perch quietly on my finger whilst I did this, only his claws became very long and sharp, and as he held on very tight by them to my hand whilst I was petting him, I soon got tired of having wounds all over my fingers.

We had also a cage full of ‘Cardinals,’ most beautiful birds with bright scarlet feathers. In fact, they were scarlet all over, their legs and even their eyes included. They were very healthy and apparently very happy in a sort of hut at one end of the verandah, with plenty of room to fly about, and, above all, a constant supply of water for their incessant baths; whenever they wanted something to do they took a bath! These birds do not belong to 74Jamaica, but are brought from South America, and so were our beautiful ‘Tropioles.’ Never have I heard such a clear sweet note as these last-named beauties possessed; it had all the gladness of the skylark’s, as well as the sweetness of the blackbird’s. They were our only musical pets, and their song awakened us at daylight. They seemed very happy, and were quite tame, eating fruit out of our hands. Their plumage was magnificent, rich glossy black, and the most brilliant orange-coloured markings. Such bright fearless birds they were, about as large as a thrush, but of a much more graceful shape.

The last pet birds of which I am going to tell you were not at all successful. Outside our window grew a tree called the ‘sandbox;’ its foliage is something like a horse-chestnut, and it bears a pod of a round shape, made up of the most symmetrical divisions like the quarters of an orange; when this pod is ripe it goes off like a small pistol, and scatters the seeds all about. In spite of this disagreeable habit of exploding suddenly, the tree is 75very popular on account of its deep shade, and on one of its lowest boughs Jessie and I watched a beautiful pair of ruby humming-birds build their tiny nest. They made it of tufts of cotton and an occasional horsehair to keep it all together, lining it with down from their own shining breasts. Presently, during the morning absence of the hen, we discerned two eggs, exactly like little white sugar-plums, and for some weeks we never wearied of seeing the cock flitting backwards and forwards with a drop of honey in his long slender beak, for his mate’s refreshment. He did not alight whilst he fed her, but would flit like a winged jewel towards the nest, and just hover over her for a second; we could see the dear patient little hen raise her bill, which he touched; then with a little cry he would dart off again into the brilliant sunshine. I cannot find words to tell you how beautiful the sight was; one felt as if it was fairy land, for such exquisite and tiny creatures did not seem to belong to this great big rough world of ours. Presently, after nearly three weeks of watching, 76we saw the hen also very busy carrying honey, and then by gently moving a sheltering leaf we peeped in to see two little birds, each no bigger than a bee. Can you fancy a bee with a beak? for that was exactly what they were like. We asked the opinion of several people as to whether it would be cruel to take the nest as soon as the young ones grew a little bigger, and at last we very carefully cut the twig it rested on, and transferred the branch to a cage, which we hung outside our window, under an awning. The parent birds saw it directly, and flew in and out of the open door, feeding their young ones just as regularly, till their feathers came and they looked quite full grown. The papa and mamma now deserted them, and Jessie and I shut the cage door and tried to induce them to feed themselves with honey out of the same flowers from which we had seen their parents bring them their incessant meals; but no, they were either too lazy, or too stupid. We then endeavoured to feed them ourselves with honey, or with sugar and water, but we 77saw in a very few days that it would only end in their death. They drooped and lost the burnished look of their plumage, so we very reluctantly opened the cage door, and after a few preliminary flutters our lovely little captives darted away into the free air. We watched them hovering over a bough of honey-bearing blossoms, and feeding themselves quite cleverly, and then they were off like a glancing sunbeam, and we never saw them again!

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