But I have one now in my possession, the only one I have ever seen which is extraordinary. It is pink and gray; that is, it has pink and gray feathers, and is a very beautiful bird, the rarest that was ever brought to America or Europe, and probably the only one of its kind that ever existed, for it is not a distinct species, but a freak of Nature. [Illustration: [Fleuron]] CHAPTER III. AN AFRICAN CREEK.—A LEOPARD AMONG THE CHICKENS.—A NIGHT WATCH FOR LEOPARDS. Now I had just left the Island of Nengue Ngozo, and if your eyes could have reached that part of the world, you might have seen me still in the same little canoe, made of the trunk of a single tree, armed to the teeth, making for the Ikoi Creek, which was not far distant. (This creek is also marked on my large map published in my work called “Explorations in Equatorial Africa.”) The canoe was going swiftly through the water, the wind was good, and soon after our departure we entered the creek. I felt anxious, for the Bakalai and Shekiani villages were at war with each other—a wild and treacherous set they are—and either tribe might have taken my canoe for that of their enemy, and so pounced upon us in great numbers and killed us all before we could let them know that we were strangers belonging to the Mpongwe tribe, their friends. I was watching continually to see if there were not some canoes in ambush. After a while the creek became narrower, the breeze ceased, the sail had to be furled along the mast, the men took to the paddles, and our canoe glided onward upon the waters of the Ikoi. The sight was dismal enough: both banks were flanked with swampy forests of mangrove; the tide was low, and a prodigious number of oysters were seen on the roots of the mangrove-trees. As we came near them I took an axe and cut some of the roots, which were literally covered with oysters. We lit a fire at the bottom of the canoe and roasted these oysters, and they were excellent. I assure you it was quite a treat. Feeling better after our meal, we paddled on again. The mangrove-trees became more scarce, and at last we came in sight of a village of Shekianis. As soon as they saw us they met in great numbers on the top of the hill where the village stood, and I could hear their wild shouts of war. As we approached nearer their excitement increased; the war-drums beat, and I could see them brandishing their spears. My men sang songs in the Mpongwe language to show that we were not their enemies.