While I was watching these movements with much interest, my companion was intent only upon business, and warned me to lie lower, as the birds saw me and were flying too high overhead. Having at length got myself stowed away to the satisfaction of my savage companion, the sport began. The birds were beginning again to whirl their flight closer to our heads,--so close, indeed, did they come that it seemed almost as if I could catch them with my cap. Presently, I observed my companion preparing himself as a flock of unusual thickness was approaching; and, in a moment, up went the net; a half dozen birds flew bang into it, and, stunned with the blow, they could not flutter out before Kalutunah had slipped the staff quickly through his hands and seized the net; with his left hand he now pressed down the birds, while with the right he drew them out, one by one; and, for want of a third hand, he used his teeth to crush their heads. The wing's were then locked across each other, to keep them from fluttering away; and, with an air of triumph, the old fellow looked around at me, spat the blood and feathers from his mouth, and went on with the sport, tossing up his net and hauling it in with much rapidity, until he had caught about a hundred birds; when, my curiosity being amply satisfied, we returned to camp and made a hearty meal out of the game which we had bagged in this novel and unsportsman-like manner. While an immense stew was preparing, Kalutunah amused himself with tearing off the birds' skins, and consuming the raw flesh while it was yet warm. [Sidenote: HURRICANE.]