He saw the frigate bird
soaring high above the island. The number and beauty of the
humming-birds amazed Robinson. They were of all colors. One had a bill
in the shape of a sickle. The most brilliant of them all was the
ruby-crested hummingbird.
Near noon, while Robinson was shielding himself from the scorching
heat of the sun in a deep, shaded glen, he was startled again by the
strange voice crying, "Who, who, who are you?" He lay quite still,
determined if possible to allow the voice to come, if it would, within
sight. He heard it slowly coming up the glen. Each time it repeated
the cry it sounded nearer. At last he saw spying at him through the
boughs of the tree under which he was lying a large bird with soft,
silky feathers of green and chestnut. "Who, who, who are you?" said
the bird. Robinson could not help but laugh. He had been frightened
at the cry of a bird.
But the bird that interested Robinson most was the parrot. There were
several kinds of them. They flew among the trees with great noise and
clatter and shrieking. Robinson determined if possible to secure one
for a pet. "I can teach it to talk," he said, "and I will have
something to talk to."' As soon as he returned home he set about
catching one. He noticed that a number were in the habit of visiting
an old tree near the shelter every morning. He planned to snare one
and tried several mornings, but he could not get one into the snare.
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