But of birds there seemed to be plenty.

Flocks of doves, large lavender-plumed pigeons, white cockatoos, long-tailed lories, and parrots whose feathers bore all the colours of the rainbow; but shorewards that was all.

In the lagoon it was very different.
"Sha'n't want for fish," said Gregory, as he dipped his oar--he and the captain now giving the men a rest.
As he spoke a shoal was making the water dance just ahead and completely changing its colour, for, as they fed upon the small fry with which the surface gleamed, the sea was dappled with rings, serried with ridges, and seemed as if it were a fluid of mingled gold and silver beneath which some volcanic action was going on, which made it boil and flush and ripple till the bows of the gig reached the shoal, and then instantaneously the surface became calm.
"Plenty of work for you, Mark," said the captain.

"You will have to be head of our fishing department, and keep our little colony supplied." "You must get Small to help you make a net," said Gregory, "and contrive some long lines." They ceased rowing, for they were now opposite a spot where the jungle came close to the edge of the lagoon, being only separated by a smooth patch of sand.

Here, too, were quite a flock of the maleo birds, scratching and searching for food, after the fashion of fowl; but as the boat stopped they took alarm, and seemed to skim over the sand, their feet striking the ground so rapidly as to become invisible.
"They can run," said the mate; "but we seem to have learned their secret.