One man on guard, relieved every two hours, would suffice to watch during the night, neither the natives nor the deer being truly formidable.
They found nothing better for shelter than an enormous mango-tree, whose large branches, very bushy, formed a kind of natural veranda.

If necessary, they could nestle in the branches.
Only, on the arrival of the little troop, a deafening concert arose from the top of the tree.
The mango served as a perch for a colony of gray parrots, prattling, quarrelsome, ferocious birds, which set upon living birds, and those who would judge them from their congeners which Europe keeps in cages, would be singularly mistaken.
These parrots jabbered with such a noise that Dick Sand thought of firing at them to oblige them to be silent, or to put them to flight.
But Harris dissuaded him, under the pretext that in these solitudes it was better not to disclose his presence by the detonation of a fire-arm.
"Let us pass along without noise," he said, "and we shall pass along without danger." Supper was prepared at once, without any need of proceeding to cook food.

It was composed of conserves and biscuit.

A little rill, which wound under the plants, furnished drinkable water, which they did not drink without improving it with a few drops of rum.

As to _dessert_, the mango was there with its juicy fruit, which the parrots did not allow to be picked without protesting with their abominable cries.
At the end of the supper it began to be dark.