seamanship, and provided a theme for a long poem by one of the greatest
of English authors. Byron it was who, writing as though the trees
sprouted quartern loaves ready baked, said of it (The Island 2 11):

"The bread-tree, which without the ploughshare yields
The unreaped harvest of unfurrowed fields,
And bakes its unadulterated loaves
Without a furnace in unpurchased groves,
And flings off famine from its fertile breast,
A priceless market for the gathering guest."

Breadfruit had been tasted and described by Dampier in the seventeenth
century. His description of it has all the terse directness peculiar to
the writing of the inquisitive buccaneer, with a touch of quaintness that
makes the passage desirable to quote:* (* Dampier's Voyages edition of
1729 1 page 294.)

"The breadfruit, as we call it, grows on a large tree as big and as tall
as our largest apple trees. It hath a spreading head full of branches and
dark leaves. The fruit grows on the boughs like apples; it is as big as a
penny loaf when wheat is at five shillings the bushel. The natives of
this island (Suam) use it for bread. They gather it when full-grown; then
they bake it in an oven, which scorcheth the rind and makes it black; but
they scrape off the outside black crust and there remains a tender thin
crust and the inside is soft, tender and white, like the crumb of a penny
loaf. There is neither seed nor stone in the inside, but all is of a pure
substance like bread; it must be eaten new, for if it is kept above
twenty-four hours it becomes dry and eats harsh and chokey; but 'tis very
pleasant before it is too stale."

By Dampier, who in the course of his astonishing career had consumed many
strange things--who found shark's flesh "good entertainment," and roast
opossum "sweet wholesome meat"--toleration in the matter of things edible
was carried to the point of latitudinarianism. We never find Dampier
squeamish about anything which anybody else could eat with relish. To
him, naturally, the first taste of breadfruit was pleasing. But Cook was
more critical. "The natives seldom make a meal without it," he said,
"though to us the taste was as disagreeable as that of a pickled olive
generally is the first time it is eaten." That opinion, perhaps, accords
with the common experience of neophytes in tropical gastronomy. But new
sensations in the matter of food are not always to be depended on. Sir
Joseph Banks disliked bananas when he first tasted the