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.
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