the milk of the cocoa-nut to it, then beating it to a paste with a
stone pestle, and afterwards mixing it with ripe plantains, bananas, or
the sour paste which they call _mahie_.

The mahie, which has been mentioned as a succedaneum for ripe
bread-fruit, before the season for gathering a fresh crop comes on, is
thus made:

The fruit is gathered just before it is perfectly ripe, and being laid
in heaps, is closely covered with leaves; in this state it undergoes a
fermentation, and becomes disagreeably sweet: The core is then taken out
entire, which is done by gently pulling the stalk, and the rest of the
fruit is thrown into a hole which is dug for that purpose, generally in
the houses, and neatly lined in the bottom and sides with grass; the
whole is then covered with leaves, and heavy stones laid upon them: In
this state it undergoes a second fermentation, and becomes sour, after
which it will suffer no change for many months: It is taken out of the
hole as it is wanted for use, and being made into balls, it is wrapped
up in leaves and baked; after it is dressed, it will keep five or
six-weeks. It is eaten both cold and hot, and the natives seldom make a
meal without it, though to us the taste was as disagreeable as that of a
pickled olive generally is the first time it is eaten.

As the making of this mahie depends, like brewing, upon fermentation,
so, like brewing, it sometimes fails, without their being able to
ascertain the cause; it is very natural, therefore, that the making it
should be connected with superstitious notions and ceremonies: It
generally falls to the lot of the old women, who will suffer no creature
to touch any thing belonging to it, but those whom they employ as
assistants, nor even to go into that part of the house where the
operation is carrying on. Mr Banks happened to spoil a large quantity of
it only by inadvertently touching a leaf which lay upon it. The old
woman, who then presided over these mysteries, told him, that the
process would fail; and immediately uncovered the hole in a fit of
vexation and despair. Mr Banks regretted the mischief he had done, but
was somewhat consoled by the opportunity which it gave him of examining
the preparation, which perhaps, but for such an accident, would never
have offered.[9]

[Footnote 9: "This paste," we are told in the missionary account, "makes
a most nutritious and sweet pudding, and all the children of the family
and their relations feast on