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Come now; eat, an' ve vill go to vork again. Ve must certainly find zee bootterflies somevere before night." But Verkimier was wrong.
The tiger threw one indescribable somersault and fell fell so promptly that it blocked the mouth of the pit, all the covering earth of which had been blown away by the shot, and Verkimier could feel the hairy side of the creature, and hear the beating of its heart as it gasped its life away. But in his cramped position he could not push it aside.
"Truly, yes, when wounded and driven to bay," returned the hermit. "You must not judge of the creature by the baby that Verkimier has tamed. A full-grown male is quite as large as a man, though very small in the legs in proportion, so that it does not stand high. It is also very much stronger than the most powerful man. You would be quite helpless in its grip, I assure you."
But the scarcity of these was somewhat compensated by the rich and brilliant colouring of the foliage. The abundance and variety of the ferns also struck the youth particularly. "Ah! zey are magnificent!" exclaimed Verkimier with enthusiasm. "Look at zat tree-fern. You have not'ing like zat in England eh! I have found nearly von hoondred specimens of ferns. Zen, look at zee fruit-trees.
It need scarcely be said that his name is Verkimier. There is no accounting for the tastes of human beings. Notwithstanding all his escapes and experiences, that indomitable man of science still ranges, like a mad philosopher, far and wide over the archipelago in pursuit of "bootterflies ant ozer specimens of zee insect vorld."
After breakfast the whole party went forth for what Verkimier styled "zee business of zee day," armed with guns, spears, botanical boxes, bags, wallets, and butterfly nets.
Verkimier was in front with the orang-utan reaching up to his arm and hobbling affectionately by his side for there was a strong mutual affection between them. The Dyak youth brought up the rear, with a sort of game-bag on his shoulders. Suddenly Nigel felt something graze his arm, and heard a heavy thud at his side.
"Zat is zee pitcher-plant," said Verkimier, as Nigel stopped suddenly before a plant which he had often read of but never seen.
After firing the last shot Verkimier had not reloaded, being too intent on watching the dying struggles of the creature, and when it fell with such violence he concluded that it was dead. For the same reason Nigel had neglected to reload after firing.
Have at you vonce more, you aggravating leetle zing!" Thus the unsuccessful man relieved his feelings, in a growling tone, as he continued to move about on tip-toe, rattling the bamboo flooring in spite of his careful efforts to move quietly. "Why, Verkimier, what are you after?" cried Nigel at last, loud enough to be heard through the partition.
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