Presently, rested and refreshed, I suggested to my band that we tackle the last stage of the journey; the dogs rose obediently, but Alecko fluffed out his feathers so that they rustled like dry leaves, and shuddered all over at the thought. Apparently he disapproved of my hawking him around under my arm like an old sack, ruffling his feathers. Now that he had persuaded me to put him down in such a pleasant spot he had no intention of continuing what appeared to him to be a tedious and unnecessary journey. As I stooped to pick him up he snapped his beak, uttered a loud, harsh scream, and lifted his wings above his back in the posture usually adopted by tombstone angels. He glared at me. Why, his look seemed to imply, leave this spot? There was shade, soft grass to sit on, and water nearby; what point was there in leaving it to be humped about the countryside in a manner both uncomfortable and undignified? I pleaded with him for some time, as he appeared to have calmed down, I made another attempt to pick him up. This time he left me in no doubt as to his desire to stay where he was. His beak shot out so fast I could not avoid it, and it hit my approaching hand accurately. It was as though I had been slashed by an ice-pick. My knuckles were bruised and aching, and a two-inch gash welled blood in great profusion. Alecko looked so smug and satisfied with this attack that I lost my temper. Grabbing my butterfly net I brought it down skilfully and, to his surprise, enveloped him in its folds. I jumped on him before he could recover from the shock and grabbed his beak into one hand. Then I wrapped my handkerchief round and round his beak and tied it securely in place with a bit of string, after which I took off my shirt and wrapped it round him, so that his flailing wings were pinioned tightly to his body. He lay there, trussed up as though for market, glaring at me and uttering muffled screams of rage. Grimly I picked up my equipment, put Mm under my arm, and stalked off towards home. Having got the gull, I wasn't going to stand any nonsense about getting him back to the villa. For the rest of the journey Alecko proceeded to produce, uninterruptedly, a series of wild, strangled cries of piercing quality, so by the time we reached the house I was thoroughly angry with him.
I stamped into the drawing-room, put Alecko on the floor, and started to unwrap him, while he accompanied the operation raucously. The noise brought Mother and Margo hurrying in from the kitchen. Alecko, now freed from my shirt, stood in the middle of the room with the handkerchief still tied round his beak and trumpeted furiously.
'What on earth's that?' gasped Mother.
'What an enormous bird!" exclaimed Margo. 'What is it, an eagle?
My family's lack of ornithological knowledge had always been a source of annoyance to me. I explained testily that it was not an eagle but a black-backed gull, and told them how I had got him.
'But, dear, how on earth are we going to feed him?' asked Mother. 'Does he eat fish?'
Alecko, I said hopefully, would eat anything. I tried to catch him to remove the handkerchief from his beak, but he was obviously under the impression that I was trying to attack him, so he screamed and trumpeted loudly and ferociously through the handkerchief. This fresh outburst brought Larry and Leslie down from their rooms.
'Who the hell's playing bagpipes?' demanded Larry as he swept in.
Alecko paused for a moment, surveyed this newcomer coldly, and, having summed him up, yarped loudly and scornfully.
'My God I' said Larry, backing hastily and bumping into Leslie. 'What the devil's that?
'It's a new bird Gerry's got,' said Margo; 'doesn't it look fierce?
'It's a gull,' said Leslie, peering over Larry's shoulder; 'what a whacking great thing!'
'Nonsense,' said Larry; 'it's an albatross.'
'No, it's a gull.'
'Don't be silly. Whoever saw a gull that size? I tell you it's a bloody great albatross.'
Alecko padded a few paces towards Larry and yarped at him again.
'Call him off,' Larry commanded. 'Gerry, get the damn thing under control; it's attacking me.'
'Just stand still. He won't hurt you,' advised Leslie.
'It's all very well for you; you're behind me. Gerry, catch that bird at once, before it does me irreparable damage.'
'Don't shout so, dear; you'll frighten it.'
'I like that I A thing like a Roc flapping about on the floor attacking everyone, and you tell me not to frighten it.'
I managed to creep up behind Alecko and grab him; then, amid his deafening protests, I removed the handkerchief from his beak. When I let him go again he shuddered indignantly, and snapped his beak two or three times with a sound like a whip-crack.
'Listen to it I' exclaimed Larry. 'Gnashing its teeth!'
'They haven't got teeth,' observed Leslie.
'Well, it's gnashing something. I hope you're not going to let him keep it, Mother? It's obviously a dangerous brute; look at its eyes. Besides, it's unlucky.'
'Why unlucky?' asked Mother, who had a deep interest in superstition.
'It's a well-known thing. Even if you have just the feathers in the house everyone goes down with plague, or goes mad or something.'
'That's peacocks you're thinking of, dear.'
'No, I tell you it's albatrosses. It's well known.'
'No, dear, it's peacocks that are unlucky.'
'Well, anyway, we can't have that thing in the house. It would be sheer lunacy. Look what happened to the Ancient Mariner. We'll all have to sleep with crossbows under our pillows.'
'Really, Larry, you do complicate things/ said Mother. 'It seems quite tame to me.'
'You wait until you wake up one morning and find you've had your eyes gouged out.'
'What nonsense you talk, dear. It looks quite harmless.'
At this moment Dodo, who always took a little while to catch up with rapidly moving events, noticed Alecko for the first time. Breathing heavily, her eyes protruding with interest, she waddled forward and sniffed at him. Alecko's beak flashed out, and if Dodo had not turned her head at that moment - in response to my cry of alarm - her nose would have been neatly sliced off; as it was she received a glancing blow on the side of the head that surprised her so much that her leg leapt out of joint. She threw back her head and let forth a piercing yell. Alecko, evidently under the impression that it was a sort of vocal contest, did his best to out-scream Dodo, and flapped his wings so vigorously that he blew out the nearest lamp.
'There you are,' said Larry in triumph. 'What did I say? Hasn't been in the house five minutes and it kills the dog.'
Mother and Margo massaged Dodo back to silence, and Alecko sat and watched the operation with interest. He clicked his beak sharply, as if astonished at the frailty of the dog tribe, decorated the floor lavishly, and wagged his tail with the swagger of one who had done something clever.
'How nice!' said Larry. 'Now we're expected to wade about the house waist deep in guano.'
'Hadn't you better take him outside, dear?' suggested Mother. 'Where are you going to keep him?
I said that I had thought of dividing Magenpies' cage and keeping Alecko there. Mother said this was a very good idea. Until his cage was ready I tethered him on the veranda, warning each member of the family in turn as to his whereabouts.
'Well,' observed Larry as we sat over dinner, 'don't blame me if the house is hit by a cyclone. I've warned you; I can do no more.'
'Why a cyclone, dear?
'Albatrosses always bring bad weather with them.'
'It's the first time I've heard a cyclone described as bad weather,' observed Leslie.
'But it's peacocks that are unlucky, dear; I keep telling you,' Mother said plaintively. 'I know, because an aunt of mine had some of the tail-feathers in the house and the cook died.'