y always had fish of some sort for
breakfast, including shell-fish; and we would send the women long
distances for wild honey. Water was the only liquid we drank at
breakfast, and with it Yamba served a very appetising dish of lily-buds
and roots. We used to steam the wild rice--which I found growing almost
everywhere, but never more than two feet high--in primitive ovens, which
were merely adapted ants' nests. The material that formed these nests,
we utilised as flooring for our house. We occasionally received
quantities of wild figs from the inland natives in exchange for shell and
other ornaments which they did not possess. I also discovered a cereal
very like barley, which I ground up and made into cakes. The girls never
attempted to cook anything, there being no civilised appliances of any
kind. Food was never boiled.
From all this you would gather that we were as happy as civilised beings
could possibly be under the circumstances. Nevertheless--and my heart
aches as I recall those times--we had periodical fits of despondency,
which filled us with acute and intolerable agony.
These periods came with curious regularity almost once a week. At such
times I at once instituted sports, such as swimming matches, races on the
beach, swings, and acrobatic performances on the horizontal bars. Also
Shakespearian plays, songs (the girls taught me most of Moore's
melodies), and recitations both grave and gay. The fits of despondency
were usually most severe when we had been watching the everlasting sea
for hours, and had perhaps at last caught sight of a distant sail without
being able to attract the attention of those on board. The girls, too,
suffered from fits of nervous apprehension lest I should go away from
them for any length of time. They never had complete confidence even in
my friendly natives. Naturally we were inseparable, we three. We went
for long rambles together, and daily inspected our quaint little corn-
garden. At first my charming companions evinced the most embarrassing
gratitude for what I had done, but I earnestly begged of them never even
to mention the word to me. The little I had done, I told them, was my
bare and obvious duty, and was no more than any other man worthy of the
name, would have done.
In our more hopeful moments we would speak of the future, and these poor
girls would dwell upon the thrill of excitement that would go all through
the civilised world, when their story
|