"Don't run," commanded Snap. "It is broad daylight. Let us investigate this matter."
"I am dead! He is dead! Ha ha!" came the voice again, and then followed a laugh that chilled them to the backbone. By this time all of the young hunters had their firearms around in front of them, ready for use.
"Well, if this isn't the queerest—" began Shep, when there was a fluttering in the tops of the cedars and a big bird flew directly over their heads. As quick as a wink. Snap took aim with his rifle and let drive. The bird uttered a shrill cry, almost human, and fluttered down at their feet. Then Shep struck at it with his gun barrel, and it fell over lifeless.
"A parrot!"
"Yes, and he's the one who made the ghostly sounds!"
"Did you ever see the beat!"
"No wonder we couldn't locate that voice in the dark!"
Such were some of the comments of the young hunters as they gathered around the dead parrot. Snap picked the creature up, made certain it was dead, and opened its mouth.
"Yes, he was a talker right enough," he said.
