Chapter Twelve.
Our life on the island.
The success we had already met with in finding food raised our spirits; but I knew the risk we should run of losing our health if we could not obtain vegetables was very great. I therefore urged my companions to set to work at once and try to get the sago manufactured.
“Come directly,” said Macco, collecting a quantity of half-dried leaves. These he placed on the fire. He then covered them up with green twigs, thereby preventing the flames bursting out, at the same time producing an abundant smoke. “Dere, dat do bery well,” he observed. “No creature come to carry off de fish, and he well dry when we come back.”
I cannot say I felt any great confidence in the success of his experiment; and I thought it of no great importance even should it fail, as I began to hope that we should have a sufficient supply of food. We soon found a palm of moderate dimensions, which we might hope, even with our knives, to cut down in the course of a day or two by working away assiduously. What, however, would take us several days, a sharp axe would accomplish almost in the course of almost as many minutes. However, we could all three work at once.
“You take one side, Oliver; Macco, you take another; and I will take a third,” I observed.
“Stay, Massa Walter,” he answered; “you no want to break head. Do dis first. You cut here; Oliver cut here; and I go make rope.”
Some ratans were growing not far off; he immediately began cutting them away, and having collected a large supply, twisted them ingeniously into a rope. Oliver and I had made apparently but little impression in the tree by the time he had done so. Taking the rope, he climbed up as before, to a considerable height, where he fastened it, and then carried the other end to another tree at some little distance, so that it might fall to the ground clear of its companions.
“Now,” he said, “do bery well;” and taking out his knife, he began to work away with great energy. So dexterously did he ply his instrument, that he soon had made almost as much impression as we had done, who had been working so much longer a time. The ratans I speak of, though allied to palms, are creepers. They grow from the ground, climbing up a tree, and then running along the branches, and descending again, mount up another tree, or sometimes climb from branch to branch. They often encircle a tree, which, in time, is completely destroyed; while they survive, forming an extraordinary intricate mass of natural cordage on the ground. In some places the original trunk had entirely disappeared, leaving only the ratan. They greatly ornament the forest as they hang in graceful festoons from branch to branch, or adorn their summits with feathery crowns of leaves, their highest points being erect leafy spikes which rise up above all the other foliage.
Macco had collected several lengths of this curious creeper, each perhaps of fifty fathoms; and having twisted them together, had formed a very strong rope. The natives make their cables of them, as well as the standing rigging of their masts; indeed, they are used for all sorts of stout cordage. While we were working away, looking up, I saw on the branch of a tree, at no great distance, as if watching our proceedings, an animal with a small head and very large bright eyes. He was covered, apparently, with very thick fur, and, I soon saw, had also a long tail, which was curled on a branch below him. As we did not move, he began eating away in a fearless manner the leaves from a branch which hung near his snout. He reminded me somewhat of the opossum, covered with thick, pure white fur, on which appeared a few black spots of various shapes. I pointed him out at length to Macco. “He good eat,” he whispered. “I catch him.” Several pieces of small ratan lay near us, and taking one of them, he formed a noose, with which in his hand he crept towards the tree. On considering what the animal could be, I recollected one called the cuscus, a picture of which I had seen in one of Mr Hooker’s books. “Yes, I am sure that must be a cuscus. It is a marsupial, or pouch-possessing animal, like the kangaroo,” I said to Oliver. Macco quickly climbed the tree, and reached a branch just above the cuscus. Not till then did the creature catch sight of him, and began moving along the branch, but at a very slow pace. Macco immediately climbed down towards us and followed it. Just, however, as he was approaching, cuscus let go his hold, hanging down by his tail. It was a fatal manoeuvre, for Macco’s noose was immediately let drop, and quickly drawn over the head of poor cuscus, who in vain tried to liberate himself with his claws. He was now a captive, and Macco, keeping the noose tight, descended the tree. Cuscus held on by his long prehensile tail; but Macco pulled and pulled, and down the animal came with a flop to the ground. His claws were so sharp, that it was rather difficult to take hold of him without the risk of being severely scratched. Macco called out to us to bring him one of the bamboo spears. With this he transfixed the poor creature to the ground; but even then it struggled, and not till he had made use of his knife, half severing the head from the body, did the creature die. It looked somewhat, in its white, woolly covering, like a small, fat lamb; but it had short legs, hand-like feet, with large claws.
“He make bery good dinner for us,” observed Macco. “No fear of our starving. Dat good t’ing.”
Oliver and I were very glad, and thanked him very much for catching the creature. However, I urged him to go back at once, that we might continue our work on the sago-tree, for I was sure that, though by eating flesh and fish we might support our lives, we should not retain our health without bread, or a substitute for it, which the sago would afford. From the height of the sun, in addition to the hints of our own appetites, we guessed that it was already past noon. We therefore proposed returning with the cuscus to our hut. Tying up the legs of our prize with the ratan, we passed a piece of bamboo through them, and took our way by the path we had cut to the beach. Our fire was out, and the number of flies collected round our mollusc made us doubtful whether we were not too late to preserve it from destruction.
“Soon drive dem away,” said Macco, and bringing fresh fuel, he piled it up under the triangle. “I get fire dis time,” he said. “I see man on board de prow do it de oder day.”
Taking a piece of bamboo sharpened like a knife in one hand, he held another piece in the other, split in two, with the convex part uppermost, in which he had cut a small notch. He began passing the sharp piece slowly over the other, as a fiddler does his bow over his fiddle—strings, increasing in rapidity, till, in a very short time, the powder produced by the friction ignited, and fell down upon the ashes. This he quickly blew up, and even more rapidly than I could have done with my burning-glass, a flame was produced. The smoke which ascended soon sent some of the flies to a distance, while the others fell down into the fire. This gave us a hint that we must not leave any of our food exposed, or that it would very quickly be destroyed.
“Cuscus better for dinner dan dis,” he said, for he had heard me name the creature; and he at once began to draw off the skin; then cutting some slices off the animal, he soon had them toasting on forked sticks before the fire.
“I wish I had some salt,” I observed, pointing to the large shell in which we had boiled our eggs. The water had evaporated, leaving the sides and stones covered with saline particles. By scraping this off, we had an ample supply of salt for our meat.
“It strikes me, Mr Walter,” said Oliver, “that we may be able to manufacture enough salt to preserve the animals we kill, for the time may come when we may not be able to obtain any, and possibly it might be a better way of preserving them than by drying them in the smoke.”
“In dry, cool weather we might do so,” I observed; “but in this hot climate I doubt whether we could get the salt in with sufficient rapidity to stop putrefaction. However, of course, it would assist in preserving the meat.”
“I am afraid you are right, Mr Walter,” he answered. “At all events, it is satisfactory to know that we can procure salt for our daily use.”
“Oliver,” I said, “I must ask a favour of you—it is, not to call me Mr Walter. A common misfortune has made us brothers, and as a brother, I am sure, I shall ever look upon you.”
“I will do what you wish,” said Oliver, “for I owe my life to you; yet, though I regard you as a brother, I do not feel myself your equal.”
“Do not talk of that, my dear fellow,” I said. “We will not bandy compliments. I should have been very miserable had I been left on this island by myself, or even with so honest a fellow as our dark-skinned friend here; for though we two might have been like Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday, I have often thought that Crusoe must have passed many dull and melancholy hours, without a companion with whom he could exchange ideas on equal terms.”
I felt much more at my ease after I had said this to Oliver. I had long looked upon him as a very superior lad. His earnest piety, his courage and his coolness, had made me greatly respect him. Had I been told to choose a companion in the situation in which I was placed, I certainly should have selected him. Our meal over, we went back to our sago-tree, and commenced our work. We made some progress, but still clasp-knives were very inadequate tools for the work we had undertaken. Every now and then, as we were labouring on silently, we heard the same cry of Wawk—wawk—wawk!—Wok—wok—wok! and caught sight of magnificent birds flitting among the higher branches of the trees, but so rapidly did they move, that we could scarcely distinguish their forms. We knew them, however, to be birds of paradise, which Mr Hooker had fully described to us. I knew from this that we must be on an island very close to the shores of New Guinea, as Mr Hooker had told me these birds are only found in that vast country, or in the surrounding islands. When Europeans first arrived at the Moluccas to obtain cloves and nutmegs, which were then supposed to be rare, and considered of great value, they saw, in the possession of the natives, dried skins of birds of beautiful plumage and unusual shape. On inquiring their name, they were told that they were God’s birds. As the bodies shown them had neither feet nor wings, they easily believed the story they heard, that they had fallen from the sun, and the Portuguese therefore called them birds of the sun. The Dutch, who came afterwards, gave them the name of birds of paradise. One of their early writers declared that no one had ever seen them alive, that they existed only in the air, invariably keeping their heads towards the sun, and never reaching earth till they died. Even as late as 1760 they were supposed to have no feet, and Linnaeus calls them footless birds of paradise. Another account says that they come to some of the spice islands of the East to eat nutmegs, which so intoxicate them, that they fall down senseless, and are then killed. Mr Hooker, however, assured me that they were found only in New Guinea, and in a few groups of islands in its immediate neighbourhood. There is a considerable number of species of this bird, all of which have a magnificent plumage. They are of moderate size, and are allied in their habits and structure to crows, starlings, and to the Australian honey-suckers. I longed to get some of these beautiful birds; but at present we had too much important work on which our existence might depend to allow me to make an attempt to obtain them.
We laboured on till the sun nearly reached the horizon, and then hurried back to our hut. As may be supposed, as we passed along the shore we took an anxious look-out in every direction to ascertain if any sail was in sight; but the distant horizon still remained unbroken, as it had been since the prow which had brought us to the island had disappeared across it.
I was still unwilling to attack the mollusc; but Macco, cutting off some slices, toasted them before the fire, and declared them very good. I preferred supping on the remainder of the turtle’s eggs, as did Oliver. He, however, tried a bit of the mollusc, but agreed that, unless more perfectly cooked, it was likely to prove very indigestible. Having finished our repast, we crept into our hut. I should have said we had strewn it thickly with leaves to serve as a mattress. The nights were warm, and as there was no wind, we required no covering beyond that afforded us by the roof. We agreed, however, that as soon as we could manufacture some sago, we would build a more substantial mansion, in which we might be able to live should the rains come on.
I cannot describe the incidents of each day; for having no note-book, they are somewhat mixed up in my memory. For two days we laboured on at the tree, and had now begun to make some progress. I became somewhat eager at length, and hacked away incautiously with my knife. In so doing, I caught it in the wood; and in drawing it out again, snapped the blade across. Here was indeed a misfortune.
“O Massa Walter,” exclaimed Macco, “dat bad!”
“It is indeed,” I said; “for though you and Oliver may in time get through the trunk with your knives, it will certainly take much longer.”
“Not so certain of dat,” said Macco. “An idea strike me. You take my knife—don’t break it, though—and I come back by-and-by and see what I can do.”
Saying this, he handed me his knife, and with greater caution I continued my task.
“We must be content to chop out a little at a time,” observed Oliver. “Perseverance will succeed in the end. It might even be done with a penknife, if we did not attempt to work too quickly.”
Macco, after being absent an hour, returned with several articles in his hand. One was a thick flat shell, something like an oyster-shell, only very much larger. He had also brought some pieces of wood, with some fibre to serve as string, and some small sticks of bamboo. He sat down near us, and taking the shell, formed with the bamboo a small drilling machine. With wonderful rapidity he worked away, drilling first one hole and then another in the shell, till he had formed a line completely across it. He now asked for his knife, and shaped away the wood he had brought. Placing two pieces, one on each side of the shell, with another at the back, he secured the whole together by means of the fibre, binding it round and round through the holes, till he had formed a serviceable-looking axe.
“Dere,” he said, lifting the weapon.
“Let me have it!” I exclaimed. “I will work away gladly with it.”
“No, no, Massa Walter,” he answered. “I make de axe, I use it; if you make it, you use it.”
Macco, lifting his newly-made axe, advanced to the tree, and began chopping away with careful and delicate strokes. He cut off only very thin slices at a time, but by degrees he increased the rapidity of his strokes, and I soon saw would produce far greater effect than we could do with our knives. When he stopped, we set to work again. By the end of the day, we calculated that we had got through more than half of the trunk. It showed, at all events, what perseverance could do; and in good spirits we returned to the shore. It was some time before sunset, but we were anxious to try and find some more turtles’ eggs. In vain, however, we searched; and thinking that we might possibly find some more further on, we continued our walk along the shore. We had gone some distance without meeting with any success, when, the brushwood appearing somewhat lighter, we determined to proceed a little way inland. We had not gone far when we found a large mound fully six feet high, and, I daresay, not less than twelve feet across. What it could be, we could not at first tell. It seemed as if a building of some sort had stood there, and the whole had tumbled down and been broken to atoms. We had our bamboo spades with us, so we took it into our heads to dig into the mound. It appeared to be composed, on examination, of dead leaves, stones, earth, and rotten wood, and sticks of all sorts—indeed, every variety of rubbish. At first I thought it might possibly be an ant’s nest, as I had read of the curious buildings formed by those creatures. I had begun on one side; but Oliver went to the very top, and began digging away. Macco could not assist us, as he said he had seen nothing of the sort before. One thing we were certain of, that the mound was artificial.
“I am afraid we are only wasting our time,” I observed; “and it will be better to go back to the shore to look for turtles’ eggs; and perhaps we may catch a turtle itself.”
I had already begun to walk away, expecting my companions to follow, when Oliver cried out, “Stay!—stay!—see here!” and he lifted up a large egg of a light brick-red colour, fully as large as that of a swan. I hurried back, and now, assisting him to dig, we uncovered a considerable number—two or three dozen at least. I now recollected having heard from Mr Hooker of a bird called the megapodius, which lays its eggs in large heaps. It is said that a number of birds make these mounds together. For this purpose they are furnished with large feet and long curved claws, to enable them to scrape up the dirt and rubbish. This they are supposed to do by labouring together; and they then, making a hole in the centre, lay their eggs in it and cover them up. The heat caused by the fermenting leaves is sufficient to hatch the eggs; and the young birds then work their own way out of the mound, and run off in a most independent manner into the woods, picking up their food as they go. They are quite independent of parental control, and seem at once to obtain all the knowledge they are ever likely to possess. We determined to watch for the birds themselves, when we had time, to learn more about them. Of the fact that they thus lay their eggs, we now had a very pleasant proof.
“Stay,” said Macco; “I make baskets to carry de eggs.”
Ascending a tall palm-tree, he cat from the top some fan like leaves, and descending, speedily wove them into three baskets, sufficient to carry away our prize. We left, however, a portion to be hatched, not liking to take the whole—indeed, there were more than we should probably require while they remained good. We had not got far with them, when a dreadful idea struck me.
“Suppose they are nearly hatched,” I said; “I am afraid they would be uneatable!”
Macco understood me, and laughed heartily. “Oh, dem bery good,” he answered. “Little bird better dan big, bird.”
However, I could not agree with him. To satisfy myself, I at once broke one. Greatly to my delight I found that it was perfectly fresh; and probably, had we approached the mound more cautiously, we might have found the parent birds in the neighbourhood, for it was evident that the eggs could only just have been laid.
As may be supposed, we made a hearty supper. On examining our larder, we found that the flesh of the cuscus was still perfectly fresh. At first I had some repugnance to eating a new animal. However, the steaks which Macco cut from the creature’s fat sides looked so tempting that I did not refuse the portion he offered me, and found it very delicate. As the eggs were more likely to keep than the flesh of the animal, we agreed to preserve it for our morning’s meal, cooking only one, which we divided amongst us. A couple we agreed would be sufficient for a hearty meal; indeed, one was almost enough to satisfy a moderate appetite. While we were eating it, we discussed the best plan for keeping our eggs.
“What do you say to trying to hatch some of them?” said Oliver. “We may then have some poultry about us, as I suppose, if we were to begin when the birds are first hatched, we might tame them, and then, in case of necessity, we may kill them for food.”
There appeared to be no great difficulty in imitating the parents’ way of building. We therefore constructed a mound, similar in character to the one we had discovered, and placed half-a-dozen eggs at the same depth that we had found them. And, as far as we could recollect, in the same position. The others were hung up in the air on the branch of a tree in baskets, that they might be kept as cool as possible, hoping thus that they would remain fit for food till they were exhausted.
“What cause we have to be thankful!” said Oliver. “See tow bountifully we are supplied with food; and the care thus taken of us by a kind Providence should make us trust that we may some day be rescued from our position, and restored to our friends.”
Chapter Thirteen.
The treasures of our island.
The next morning, as we took our way to the sago wood, our ears were saluted by the loud cries of some of the birds of paradise; and looking up, we saw a vast number of them collected on the tops of some lofty trees in the forest, having immense heads of wide-spreading branches with scanty foliage, though with large leaves. Suddenly the birds began to move about in the most extraordinary manner, stretching out their necks, raising their beautifully-tinted plumes, and elevating their wings, which they kept in a continual state of vibration. Now they flew from branch to branch backwards and forwards, so that the trees appeared filled with waving plumes, and every variety of form and colour. “Why, they are dancing in the air!” exclaimed Oliver; and truly it seemed as if they were expressly performing a dance for our entertainment. The wings appeared to be raised directly over the back. The head was stretched out, bending downwards; and the long hinder feathers were elevated and expanded, forming two superb golden fans, striped with deep red at the base, and fading away into the pale brown tint of the body. Their heads were yellow, their throat emerald-green—though even the bright tints were scarcely perceptible amid the rich golden glory which waved above them. They appeared to be of the size of crows, the bodies being of a rich coffee brown. Their long gold and orange feathers, which form their most conspicuous ornament, spring from the sides beneath each wing; and I found afterwards, when I examined one of the birds, that when in repose they are partly concealed by them.
We could scarcely move from the spot, so delighted were we with the beautiful appearance of these magnificent birds. Now and then, also, superb butterflies of gorgeous colours flew by us; while here and there, as the sunlight penetrated amongst the branches of the trees, we saw, creeping along the ground or up the stems, numbers of glittering beetles, of equally beautiful tints.
At length, however, we repaired to our sago-tree. Macco used his newly-formed axe with as much judgment as at first; we as before working away at intervals with our knives. At length he exclaimed, “Me t’ink tree fall now. You go to end of rope and haul, haul. Take care far enough off; and I cut, cut.”
Macco again shouted; and Oliver and I hauling with all our might, we saw the lofty tree bending forward. We ran back even further than was necessary, and down it came with a crash upon the ground, which echoed through the forest, and startled several creatures, which went flying or leaping, it seemed to us, among the branches or over the ground. One, however, in a little time came back again, and we saw a curious black face looking down upon us. “A monkey or baboon!” I cried out. A chattering cry was the answer, and the black face disappeared among the branches.
We could do little more towards preparing the sago that evening. On passing through a more open part of the forest, our eyes were gladdened by seeing some large fruit hanging from the top of some palm-trees. “Cocoa-nut!—cocoa-nut!” cried Macco. Yes; there was the long-coveted cocoa-nut; and apparently mature. Macco, as may be supposed, was very quickly at the top of the tree, and engaged in throwing down the nuts.
“Stay!” I cried out; “don’t pick more than are necessary, and we may have them fresh.”
We had soon torn off the fibrous covering, and knocked a hole in one of the eyes. How deliciously cool and sweet did the juice inside them taste!
“That is refreshing!” exclaimed Oliver. “I am glad we have begun on the sago-tree, or we might have been lazy, and not have taken the trouble to cut it down.”
“Yes, indeed,” I answered; “and remember the cocoa-nuts will only last for a time, whereas the sago will keep as long as we require it.” Here was another addition to our store of provisions, for which we had truly cause to be thankful.
Next morning we set to work to cut off the leaves and leaf-stalks, and we then took off a strip of bark from the upper part of the trunk. We now had the pithy matter exposed, which in the upper part is of snowy whiteness, and of the consistency of a hardish pear, with woody fibres running through it, a quarter of an inch from each other. We had seen, the pith removed by means of a club, with which it is pounded while still in the trunk. Our next work, accordingly, was to form a couple of clubs for the purpose. It was a difficult matter, however, to cut a piece of hard wood suitable for our object. After hunting about for some time, we could find nothing to suit us. At last it occurred to me that we might load the end of a stout piece of bamboo, which might, at all events, do better than nothing. We accordingly cut some pieces, and going to the shore, fixed in the bottom of each a lump of coral rock, which Macco managed to secure in a neat and at the same time thorough manner. With these we commenced operations, and though the process was slower than it might otherwise have been, we found that we could manage to beat out a considerable quantity of sago pith.
While Oliver and I were proceeding with this work, Macco who was far more ingenious than we were, commenced the operation of the washing machine. This he formed of the large sheathing bases of the leaves, in the shape of a trough. The object is to strain the sago pith. With the fibrous covering from the leaf-stalks of the cocoa-nuts he soon twisted a net-like strainer. The trough, I should say, is deep in the centre and very shallow at the end; thus the starch which is dissolved sinks down to the bottom of the trough, while the water runs away from the upper part. Macco made also some baskets out of the sheathing bases of the leaves, in which we might carry the sago.
We now set out with our materials to our spring. There was not as much water as we should have desired, but still it seemed to come bubbling up in sufficient quantity for our purpose, without fear of exhausting the supply. Macco, having formed a number of trestles of pieces of bamboo sticks, rested the trough between the forks, the straining place being placed on higher trestles than the strainer in the centre, so that the water might run down into the trough below. The strainer was now stretched across the upper part of the trough, and putting in our sago, Macco began to pour the water from the shell which he had brought for the purpose. We eagerly watched the process. In a short time a good deal of thick matter seemed to run off, leaving only refuse in the net. This refuse we threw aside, and supplied its place with fresh sago. This we continued doing till our trough was nearly full, and the water being allowed to run off, we found a fine mass of sago starch with a slightly red tinge. We now made this up into thick cylindrical masses, as we had seen done before, and covered them up with the sago leaves.
Truly thankful for our success, we carried off the sago we had thus manufactured to our encampment. We agreed, however, before commencing any other operation, to turn all the pith we had obtained into sago, as we might not otherwise have time to manufacture a further supply. Our difficulty was to cook it. We had seen it eaten boiled with water. It then forms a thick glutinous mass, and salt is mixed with it to give it flavour, as it is of a somewhat astringent taste. We tried boiling some in one of our shells; but before the sago was sufficiently boiled the shell caught fire. We, however, managed to eat it, and mixing it with salt, found it palatable. We then determined to try and make some bread of it. To do this, however, we had to build an oven. This, without difficulty, we formed in the earth. We then filled it with hot embers. Having pounded our sago in a shell, we mixed it with water, and made it into small cakes. These we placed on stones in the oven. In our first experiment we burned up our cakes, as we kept them too long in. We then agreed that we would try and make a baking-pan, such as we had seen formed. This is a square box made of clay, with several divisions, into each of which a cake is placed sideways. The difficulty, however, was to form this oven; and we agreed that we would try and find some clay and manufacture one. At the next attempt we kept the cakes in a much shorter time, and found them sufficiently palatable. We were occupied for more than a week in manufacturing our sago. It was probably very inferior to what is made by more experienced persons. At the same time it was wholesome, and would be a great addition to the animal food we were likely to procure.
One evening, as we approached our hut, after our day’s work was over, we heard a noise inside. We approached noiselessly, with our bamboo spears ready for use, thinking, probably, that wine animal had got inside. Just as we were within ten yards of the entrance, out popped a large black creature, which turned round chattering and grinning at us, and then bolted off as fast as it could, with a lump of sago in its paws. “Monkey! monkey!” cried Macco, giving chase with his spear. The creature was, however, I saw, a baboon, from having no tail, or an imperceptible tail if he had one, the part he turned towards us being bare of hair, and of a ruddy hue. He was far too nimble, however, even for Macco to overtake him, and up he sprang into a tree, going chattering among the branches, dropping the sago, however, in his flight. I recognised, as he turned round, the face I had seen watching us when we were making the sago.
We agreed that we must secure our provisions, or he, having discovered our store, would perhaps return with many companions to pilfer it. I heard afterwards that only one species of baboon is found thus far east, probably introduced by Malay seamen, who constantly carry baboons and monkeys on board their vessels. We agreed, indeed, that it was now time to begin a hut, in which we could sit more comfortably during the evening, and which would shelter us from the rains, which I knew were likely to occur before long. The rich vegetation which covered the island would not, I knew, exist, unless frequently watered by heavy showers.
We agreed to call our house Bamboo Villa. We first stuck into the ground a number of stout bamboos, and then secured, at about six feet from the ground, to the uprights, horizontally, some bamboos almost of the same thickness. These formed the beams on which we rested our floor. The floor was composed of the mid-ribs of the sago-palm, split in two, and supported beneath by poles. The sides were of the same material. Our work, the framework of which was of bamboo, was thatched with the smaller mid-ribs, and with the leaves of the sago-palm foliage, tied in bundles, side by side. These, however, being very thick, formed a covering which kept out the heat of the sun as well as the rain, a very important consideration in that climate. A ladder of bamboo enabled us to reach the door of our house.
In this abode we hoped better to preserve our provisions, and to be free also from insects or any reptiles which might exist on the island. We had frequently caught sight in the distance of creatures moving about among the thickly-growing trees, but had been unable to tell what they were. We had also seen movements amongst the dense mass of leaves which covered the ground, and had supposed them to be lizards and snakes, or other crawling things.
As soon as our house was finished we manufactured a sago oven, which we baked in the sun. It was, however, of a very fragile nature, and we feared would not answer very well for our cakes—to use it, indeed, we were obliged to increase its size. When all was ready, we prepared some cakes. This we did by drying the sago thoroughly in the sun, then pounding it in a shell into a fine powder. Keeping some of the powder to sprinkle the oven with, we made the rest into cakes. Having got the oven heated, we put in our baking-pan, with a piece of palm-leaf over it, and then closed up the hole with stones and earth. In a short time we again opened the mouth of the oven, when lo, and behold, our pan had burst asunder, and though the cakes were pretty well done, pieces of clay were sticking to them on every side. It took us some time to pick them out before the cakes were at all fit to eat; indeed, an epicure would certainly not have considered them palatable. What would we not have given for a good pot in which to boil our water, and a well-made pan for baking our cakes!
“There is no use wishing for them,” exclaimed Oliver; “we must make the best use of the materials at hand.”
We determined not to be defeated, and our next pan was made of clay, and strengthened with pieces of bamboo in the inside. We began baking it in the sun, and then carried it to our oven, which was only slightly heated. We then added more fuel, and closed it up. On opening it we only let in a little air at a time, and this allowed it to cool slowly. On taking it out, not a crack was perceptible. On examining it, when it was thoroughly cool, we had hopes that it would answer better than its predecessor. The next time we made some cakes we pounded some cocoa-nut with them. We then heated our oven, and put in our pan full of cakes. In about five or six minutes we again opened it, and drawing out the pan, we saw the cakes well cooked, and the pan unbroken.
We had been too busy to go hunting; but we determined, as soon as our house was completed in every respect, to do so systematically. We hoped to have no difficulty in procuring a cuscus occasionally, and as there were evidently many birds on the island, to trap them or kill them in some other way. We talked of forming cross-bows, and we hoped to find some elastic wood for the purpose. Still, we had a longing for vegetables. We found a delicate-looking plant, which had nothing suspicious about it, for I knew the appearance of several of the noxious plants. On digging down we discovered a root to it. Macco said he thought that it was wholesome, and volunteered to try it. We agreed that it would be better for one person to do so, and to take only a little at a time, that, should it have any bad qualities, we might discover them before serious injury was done to any of us. We accordingly boiled some in a shell with some hot stones, and Macco, taking a little, declared it very good. Next day he ate rather more of it, and in a short time took a considerable quantity mixed with some shell-fish, which we had just before procured. Its wholesome nature was now satisfactorily ascertained, and we had thus another article of food on which we could depend.
Among the many beautiful objects in our way were the groups of bamboos. Botanically, the bamboo is looked upon as grass, but, practically, it is a tree, as it sometimes attains the height of seventy or eighty feet. In many of the places we had visited we found the native huts built of it. For this purpose the people split it open, and press it out flat. To strengthen the walls, other perpendicular and horizontal pieces are fixed to it. The masts of small vessels are made of it, as well as spars, and drinking-cups and vessels of all sorts. The more savage tribes still make their weapons of bamboo, as, when slightly burned, a sharp edge like a knife can be given to it; indeed, the pointed end of a bamboo makes a formidable spear, which an unarmed man would not wish to encounter.
I cannot give a full account of our residence on the island. We were never without an ample supply of provisions, both vegetable and animal. A fortnight had passed since we had buried the eggs in the mound, and had almost forgotten all about them, when, as Oliver and I were seated in our hut, we heard Macco shouting out, “Come!—see! see!” We hurried out, and remarked a curious commotion on the top of the mound we had thrown up. Presently, one head popped out from the earth, and then another, and another, and a curious half-fledged bird emerged, and pointing its head inland, began to run away towards the wood. Macco made chase, and brought it back. We, in the meantime, seized the remainder of the little creatures as they emerged from their curious hatching-ground, and carried them off to the hut. They seemed very unwilling to stay there, till we placed some sago flour and other food before them. They instantly began pecking it up, as if they had been long accustomed to feeding. Nothing seemed to satisfy them, and we were surprised at the quantity of food they managed to swallow. I never saw such independent little creatures. It was satisfactory to know that we were not depriving an affectionate hen of her offspring. As we were anxious to preserve them, we made a pen of bamboo sticks closely stuck in the ground, in a circle of about a couple of yards in diameter. It took us some time to do this. As soon as the pen was finished we put the brush-turkeys—for such we supposed they were—inside it, throwing in at the same time a supply of food. The little creatures ran round and round, but finding they could not get out, began to peck away at the food. Supposing that, as they took to the woods, they would require some shelter, we threw in a quantity of leaves, and small branches, and twigs. Under these, when they could eat no more, they went to roost, apparently very well contented with their quarters.
Well satisfied with our success, we searched for some time, but without finding another mound; indeed, the birds which made them did not appear to be very common in the island. However, we could not make much way into the interior on account of the thick jungle, though here and there were a few open glades through which we could pass along with tolerable ease. We had reached one of these glades when we saw directly before us a brown animal jumping along over the ground. “A kangaroo! a kangaroo!” exclaimed Oliver. “It is so like the pictures of one.” We, of course, made chase, but the kangaroo—for a species of that animal it was—soon caught sight of us. Greatly to our surprise, however, when it came to the end of the glade, instead of forcing its way through the thicket, or turning round to stand at bay, it began to climb up the nearest tree. It did not climb very fast, however, and had we been somewhat nearer we might have struck it with our spears. By the time we got up it had climbed above our reach. I then remembered reading of a tree kangaroo which is supplied with powerful claws on the fore-feet. Once up in the tree, it did not appear to be much frightened at us, and we had time more particularly to observe it. It had a hairy tail, much finer than the ordinary kangaroo, and we observed as it went over the ground that it had not used it as a support, as the Australian kangaroo does.
Macco proposed climbing the tree to attack it, but we thought it would be dangerous for him to make the attempt, as the creature might seize him in its claws, and tear his skin. He laughed at the notion, and remarked, “If he do dat, he tumble down. No, no; you let me alone. You go away, I kill kangaroo!”
Saying this, he made a circuit through the thick forest, so as to get the tree between himself and the branch on which the kangaroo was sitting. We, meantime, retired down the glade. As soon as the animal saw that we were at a distance, he began tearing away the leaves from a branch and eating them voraciously. Macco, hanging the spear about his neck, climbed up a neighbouring tree, which was united to the one on which the kangaroo was sitting by a strong band of ratan. Along this, finding it secure, he cautiously climbed, till he gained a branch directly above the kangaroo. We watched him anxiously, afraid to move lest we should disturb the animal. He seemed to be considering whether his spear was long enough to reach it. Then we saw him cautiously stoop down over the branch. The moment the kangaroo stopped eating, he drew back and remained still as death. When the animal again commenced tearing off the twigs, he cautiously approached. At length he seemed satisfied that he was in a good position, and raising his spear, he darted it down directly on the animal’s neck. It must have pierced the spine, for the creature instantly dropped off the branch and lay without moving on the ground. We ran up as fast as our legs could carry us, but Macco was on the spot before us, and examining the creature. He seemed satisfied that it was perfectly dead. It had a graceful, mild-looking head, and, except in the points I have mentioned, was in all respects like an ordinary kangaroo, though not so large as the animals I had read of in Australia. It was indeed a prize to us, for we had not killed a cuscus for some time, and had been living on shell-fish, sago, and cocoa-nuts, with now and then a few turtle’s eggs. Fastening the legs of our prize round a piece of the universally useful bamboo, we bore it off in triumph to our mansion, and very soon had some delicious steaks cooking before our fire.
Chapter Fourteen.
Carried off by savages.
I do not know whether a more than usually substantial supper made us sleep sounder than we were wont to do, but the sun had already risen when, the next morning, I started up, hearing as I fancied some strange noises near us. My two companions were still asleep on their bamboo couches on either side of the hut. The noises seemed to me like human voices. Oliver and Macco must have heard them also, for directly afterwards they also started up, and looked about them with a somewhat startled expression of countenance.
We sprang to the door of the hut. On opening it, we saw directly below it a number of dark-skinned savages, almost destitute of clothing, some of them having huge black mop heads, while others had simply thick woolly hair. From this I knew them at once, as well as from their strongly-marked, ferocious features, to be Papuans, or inhabitants of New Guinea. They seemed as much surprised at seeing us as we were at seeing them, and shouted out to us in a language we of course could not understand. By their signs, however, we knew that they were telling us to come down to them. This, from their unprepossessing appearance, we were not well-disposed to do. Probably they supposed we possessed fire-arms, and were therefore unwilling to approach nearer. They had just landed, we knew, from seeing two long, low canoes with high stems and sterns rudely carved and surmounted by plumes of feathers. A row of mother-of-pearl shells apparently ornamented each side of the gunwale. The men were armed with bows and arrows and huge clubs. Some of them also had spears in their hands, but we saw no guns among them. This was satisfactory. However, from their numbers we knew too well that they could easily overpower us, if they had evil intentions.
Again they shouted to us, and we shouted in return, putting out our hands, and making other signs to show that we desired to be friends. They only answered by still louder shouts, some of them apparently laughing at our appearance. They now began to approach, one party coming up on one side, one on another, and a third in the centre. We still held our post, hoping that they might not come to extremities. We thought, too, that perhaps, seeing three people at the door, they might suppose others were within, and not be aware of how far superior they were in force to us. As they advanced they discovered our brush-turkey pen, and, greatly to our distress, some of them instantly stooped over, and began to seize the birds, and to fasten them by their legs round their waists. Others rushed at the body of the kangaroo, which hung by the legs to the branch of a tree, and immediately began cutting it up, each man appropriating a portion.
“I hope they will be content with robbing us, and go away,” said Oliver.
“I am afraid not,” I answered. “They will soon find how few we are to oppose them, and will not be content until they carry off everything we possess, even if they do not kill us. They mean mischief, depend on that.”
The savages having searched about, and finding nothing else on which to lay their hands, approached still nearer our hut.
“If they attack us we will sell our lives dearly,” I said to Oliver.
“I am afraid we must do so,” he answered. “I wish to fight for your sake, though for myself I scarcely think I should do so.”
Thinking that possibly, after all, they might go away without further molesting us, we lifted up our ladder and shut the door. Scarcely had we done so, than we felt the house violently shaken, and on looking out once more I found that a number of men had got hold of the posts on which it rested, and seemed attempting to shake it down. They shook, and shook, and shook; but it was so strongly secured in the ground, that their united strength could not pull it down. All the time they were shouting and crying to each other, every now and then giving way to hoarse laughter, which occasionally broke into shrieks of merriment. “Bery good fun for dem, but bad for us,” observed Macco, as the violent shocks made us expect every instant to be hurled to the ground. At length they stopped, and there was an ominous silence. We felt as people do during the lull of a hurricane, when they know it will come back with tenfold force. Presently we heard the savages crying out louder than ever, and directly afterwards thin wreaths of smoke began to ascend through the flooring. They were about, we dreaded, to burn us out. Soon the crackling flames ascended. We had no help for it; so, throwing open the door, we sprang to the ground. We were each of us instantly surrounded by a number of savages. One black fellow, with a huge head of frizzled-out hair, and a dark heavy club in his hand, seized hold of me, and I thought he was about to dash my brains out with his weapon. Others, in like manner caught my companions. I thought my last moment had come, and expected every instant to see my friends struck to the ground. No sooner had we jumped down than they began to rake out the fire and to pull down the burning portions, though they were only just in time to save the hut from destruction. Immediately a number of them rushed up, and began to bring out our stores of sago and dried mollusc, our cocoa-nuts, and other articles of food. They seemed well pleased with their prize. These they quickly divided among themselves.
The big man with a mop head now gave certain orders to several of his companions, who hurried off into the wood. They soon returned with some fine pieces of ratan, with which they immediately bound our arms behind us, and our legs so close together, that we could with difficulty walk. This being done, they all sat down and began to consume our provisions, a large portion of which they quickly devoured. On seeing water in one of our shells, they made signs to Macco to ask where we got it from, and ordered him to lead a party to the spot. Going to their canoes, they returned with a number of long jars and small casks, made of the thick ends of large bamboos. The savages had apparently touched at our island for the sake of getting food or water. Having supplied themselves with this necessary article, they unceremoniously dragged us on board their canoes. Oliver and I were taken to one, and poor Macco to the other. He looked very disconsolate when he saw that he was to be separated from us. I confess I felt very uncomfortable at the thoughts of being in their power, for I had heard that they were not only fierce and treacherous, but addicted to cannibalism, if they were not regular cannibals. Still Oliver and I agreed that we would endeavour to show no signs of fear. They seemed very well satisfied with the provisions with which our stores had supplied them. Before shoving off, however, a party of them again landed, and went to the cocoa-nut grove, of the produce of which they brought back a quantity. They now, getting out their paddles, began to glide away from the island where we had spent so many weeks. Looking back at it, we admired the numberless beauties it possessed—beauties which no change of season in that latitude could possibly mar. There was one enemy, however, which might quickly scatter destruction around. It was likely to proceed from the conical mountain in the centre of the island. Already there appeared to be a white smoke ascending from the summit.
“Perhaps, after all,” said Oliver, “we are taken away in time to be saved from destruction. See, our captors are watching the top of the mountain; they too seem to think that something is likely to happen. Let us be thankful, then, that we have been removed in time; for had the mountain burst forth while we were on the island, we could not possibly have escaped, if the lava or ashes had come down on our side of it.”
While he was speaking I was looking towards the mountain. Instead of the volumes of smoke which had hitherto been issuing forth, there spouted out a bright sheet of flame, which, expanding as it rose towards the sky, spread around like a vast fan, arching over and forming a canopy of fire above the island. Thus for an instant it hung suspended, threatening destruction to the smiling landscape below it. At the same moment sounds like the loudest peals of rolling thunder rent the air, almost deafening us with their roar. Even our captors, not unaccustomed to such a spectacle, stood aghast, clutching each other’s arms, and gazing with horror-stricken countenances at the mountain. “See, see!” cried Oliver; “how mercifully we have been preserved!”
Indeed we had; for down the mountain’s side, half covering it, flowed a river of burning liquid, setting fire to the trees and shrubs, the conflagration spreading far and wide, fanned by the breeze among the easily ignited timber, while from the sky above there rained down dense showers of glowing stones and hot cinders, till the late green island became enveloped in flame, amid which the tall palms waved to and fro, as if struggling to escape from impending destruction. At the same time, a shower of fine ashes began to fall on our heads. Thicker and thicker they came, obscuring the atmosphere, till we could merely distinguish the pyramid of fire with its fanlike summit, and the wide circle of leaping flames which raged around it. In a short time the canoe was thickly covered with ashes, which penetrated also through our clothes, and filled our ears and nostrils, making even breathing painful. The savages at length aroused themselves, and seizing their paddles, began with desperate strokes to urge their canoe away from the ill-fated island.
“O Walter, let us return thanks to our merciful Father in Heaven, that what we thought so great a misfortune has been the means of our preservation,” said Oliver; “and never let us mistrust the kind providence with which he watches over us.”
We knelt down in the bottom of the canoe, and I joined Oliver in the prayer he offered up, the savages looking at us with surprise, unable probably to comprehend in the remotest degree what we were about.
I should say that some time had been spent after the events I have briefly described had taken place. We had got to a distance from the burning island, and were once more in safety. Having become very hungry, we made signs to our captors that we should like to have some food. With a careless air they handed us some lumps of our own sago, and some pieces of cocoa-nut. We were compelled to take it, uncooked as it was; for though we showed by signs that we should like to have some bread made of it, they laughed at our request, and seemed to tell us that it was good enough for such white-skinned slaves as we were.
These New Guinea men had apparently been on a voyage to the northward, and were returning to their native land, which lay, we judged, somewhere to the south. We ate our hard sago-cake, which we could scarcely have got down without the aid of the cocoa-nut. We again made signs that we should like an entire cocoa-nut, that we might drink the juice. They pointed in return to the water alongside, and mockingly, by signs, intimated that we might drink that. In vain we entreated that they would give us some fresh water or a cocoa-nut. Our distress seemed to amuse them amazingly; for both, the chief and his men indulged in most uproarious shouts of laughter, rolling about as if they were thoroughly tipsy. At length, however, when they had amused themselves sufficiently at our expense, one of them threw a cocoa-nut, which hit Oliver on the head. He could not help exhibiting some signs of suffering, which made them again burst into fits of laughter; indeed, they appeared to be the merriest fellows, though savage in their merriment, that I had ever met with. The juice, however, which we got from the cocoa-nut, Oliver declared, made ample amends for the treatment we had received.
“I do not think they can intend to kill and eat us,” he observed, “or they would feed us better than they are doing. We must see how we can best win their good graces. If we could but do something to prove that we would be useful to them, we might obtain better treatment.”
“Very true,” I answered; “I will do my best to help you, if you can think of anything.”
We could distinguish Macco sitting near the stern of the other canoe by the different shape of his head, as well as by the seaman’s woollen shirt he wore. He seemed to be sitting quietly, as if listening to the conversation of those around him. However, it was not likely that he could comprehend anything of their language. Hour after hour the savages paddled on, till at length we approached some rocky islets, towards which they steered. Here they landed, and lighting a fire, rudely cooked the remainder of our kangaroo. Not till we petitioned very hard did they condescend to give us any portion of it. At length, however, they made signs that we might cut off what flesh we required, and we eagerly took advantage of the permission they granted. At the same time, finding a bamboo cask of water at hand, we soon drained its contents, and afterwards felt very much refreshed. The meal over, they again took to their canoes, and continued their voyage. How they could manage to cook their food on a long voyage, I could not discover. Oliver suggested that they perhaps lived on those occasions on cold provisions; indeed, their sago-cakes would provide them with sufficient food, if they ever did make long voyages, which, however, I suspected they did not.
At length, however, we got close in with the coast, which we took to be that of New Guinea. On either side, as far as the eye could reach, it was covered with tall forest trees and dense brushwood. They were considerably taller than those on our island—some of the most lofty being draped with festoons of the creeping ratans, which gave them a peculiarly graceful appearance. The sands, unlike many of those of the volcanic islands we had passed, were white and glittering, and the water of the most transparent nature, so that, looking over the side, we could see far down into the depths of the ocean. In the distant interior rose up ranges of lofty mountains, appearing one beyond another, and extending, till lost to view by distance, both to the north and south. Altogether the country appeared magnificent in the extreme. Under other circumstances I should have been delighted to visit it; but the idea of having to live among such fierce-looking savages was terrible, especially when we could not help thinking that if they did not kill and eat us, they would at all events make us labour as slaves.
Our captors, instead of landing, continued to proceed towards the south. As night approached, they ran into a little sandy bay, where, hauling up their canoes, which, notwithstanding their large size, were very light, they all assembled on shore. We were now on that mysterious coast of New Guinea. Macco was allowed to come near us. I asked him whether he thought we could manage to run away while our captors were asleep.
“Dey run faster dan we,” he answered, “and if dey catchy dey kill, and if dey kill dey eat. No, no, Massa Walter; we stay and try and make friends. I tell dem big ship come soon and bring cloth, and knives, and hatchets, and all sorts of good t’ings for dem, if dey no hurt us.”
How Macco had contrived to explain this I could not understand, but he seemed very confident that they had comprehended him. Some of the party, armed with bows and arrows, started away into the woods, while the others collected sticks and lighted a fire. The hunters soon returned, bringing with them a tree kangaroo and a cuscus, with several large bats. The latter creatures I had seen before, and heard them called flying-foxes. They were very ugly, and one of them; which I took up had a rank, powerful, foxy odour. One of the natives who saw me thought I was going to eat it raw, I suppose, for he shouted out, and I quickly dropped it. They immediately set to work to skin these creatures, and cutting them up, roasted them on sticks before the fire. Some rough sago, which they baked on the embers, was also produced.
We sat apart from them, and they commenced their feast without intending apparently to give us any. Macco, however, after waiting a few minutes, observed, “Dis no do;” and getting up, approached the savage-looking group. Pointing to his mouth, he quietly stooped down, and was carrying off one of the bats.
“No, no,” I shouted; “bring us a piece of kangaroo or the other animal.”
The savages looked somewhat astonished at his audacity, but yet no one prevented him. Throwing down the half-roasted bat, he placed several pieces of the other meat on leaves, which served them as plates, and came back to us with them in triumph. He then returned for some sago. With this food we made a tolerably hearty meal, and certainly felt our spirits a little the better for it. The savages then, again going into the thicket, brought out a number of bamboos, with some tall ferns, with which they constructed some rude huts, sufficient to hold all the party. We, imitating their example, did the same, and commending ourselves to Him who had hitherto so mercifully watched over us, lay down to sleep.
By dawn the next morning the savages were on foot, and having consumed the remains of their supper, began to shove off their boats. Macco managed to get hold of a little more sago and meat, with which we made a scanty breakfast. We were in hopes that they were going to leave us behind, but they had no such intentions; and as soon as the boats were in the water, their mop-headed chief made signs to us to go on board—an order we obeyed with as good a grace as we could command. The canoes paddled on the whole of the next day, the coast scenery being very similar to what we had previously passed. Towards evening we entered a large bay completely sheltered from the sea. On one side of it, towards which they directed their course, we came in sight of what appeared to be a village built out on the water.
Their dwellings, if such they were, were curious, dilapidated edifices. They stood on platforms supported by posts, placed apparently without any attempt at regularity. Many of the posts were twisted and crooked, and looked as if they were tumbling down. The houses were very low, the roofs being in the shape of boats turned bottom upwards. They were connected with the land by long rude bridges, which seemed as if they could scarcely support the weight of a person going over them. As we drew nearer, we saw that the fronts of these dwellings were ornamented with rude carving, sometimes of the human figure, such as the grossest savages alone could wish to exhibit. Under the roofs of the houses were hung as decorations rows of human skulls; trophies, we concluded, of their combats with neighbouring tribes.
The canoes were received with loud shouts from the inhabitants of the village, who came out on the platforms to welcome them, lowering down some roughly made ladders to enable them to ascend. Alongside the platforms were a number of canoes of various sizes, some capable only of containing one person, with outriggers to prevent them going over. Our captors made a sign to us to follow them, and we now had to stand in a row and be inspected by their friends. We were arranged on the platform, for the houses were far too low to allow of our standing upright in them.
Fierce as the savages looked, they were most of them remarkably fine men, tall and athletic. The women, however, except a few who appeared to be very young, were most unattractive. Their features were strongly-marked, and their dress coarse and disgusting. It consisted of stripes of palm-leaves, worn tightly round the body, and reaching to the knees, and dirty in the extreme. Their hair, frizzled-out, was tied in a huge bunch at the back of the head. We saw them, while they were talking and looking at us, forking it out with large wooden forks, having four or five prongs: indeed, an ordinary comb would have been of little service in such a mass of cranial vegetation. The women wore ear-rings and necklaces arranged in a variety of ways. Some of them had two necklaces, made of white beads or kangaroo teeth, which looked well on their dark glossy skins. The ear-rings were composed of thick silver or copper wire, in hoops, the ends crossing each other. Some of them had the ends of their necklaces attached to their ear-rings, and then looped up to the chignon behind, which had a very elegant appearance, if anything could look elegant on such unprepossessing dames.
The men had a far greater number of ornaments than the women, most of them composed of the teeth of small animals. They had finger-rings as well as necklaces and ear-rings, and also bracelets. Some, too, wore bands round the arm, just beneath the shoulder, with bunches of bright-coloured feathers or hair attached to them. Others, also, wore anklets and bands, made of shell or brass-wire, below the knee. All the chiefs, and those who wished to be exquisites, carried a huge forked comb, which they continually employed in passing through their hair, much as I have seen people with large whiskers keep pulling at them when they had nothing better to do.
We only hoped that our captors had formed a better opinion of us than we had of them. They appeared undecided what to do with us. At last, however, the chief, whom we called Frizzlepate, made us a sign to enter one of the houses, and pointed to a little box-like room, into which we could just manage to creep. The partition walls of the house were formed of a sort of thatch, and the only articles of furniture we saw within were rude wooden plates and basins, with one or two metal cooking-vessels apparently, and a number of baskets and mats. Their weapons were spears, bows, and clubs. The mats were evidently used for sleeping on. They were made of the broad leaves of the pandanus, sewn together, with their usual neatness, in three layers. One end is sewn-up, so that when used for sleeping it forms a kind of sack, serving at the same time for mattress and coverlid. We saw them also used in rainy weather, worn over the head, the sewn-up end being uppermost, serving thus the purpose of umbrella and greatcoat. Most of the men wore in their belts a chopping-knife and axe. Some of them had besides smaller knives, and a skin pouch, with a bamboo case, containing betel-root, tobacco, and lime. The mats, however, were certainly the most useful articles in their possession. They could be folded up in a very small space for travelling, both as a protection from rain and as bedding at night: indeed, they were equal in most respects to the Mackintosh rugs used by our officers in campaigning.
We were expecting to go supperless to our cramped-up bed, when a woman, with a more pleasing expression of countenance than most of those we had seen, came to our room with a basket containing some plantains and yams, with a few cooked fish. She signed to us to take the contents and give her back the basket, with which she immediately disappeared. Anxiety for the future would have kept us awake, had not our ears been assailed by the loud chattering and laughter of the natives in the hut in which we were located, as well as in those around us. Even in that small hut there must have been a dozen or twenty people, which was not surprising, if they were contented with the small space they had awarded us.