FIRST PART
CHAPTER 21: Some Days Ashore
(continued)
We were overloaded when we arrived at the skiff. However, Ned Land
still found these provisions inadequate. But fortune smiled on him.
Just as we were boarding, he spotted several trees twenty-five
to thirty feet high, belonging to the palm species.
As valuable as the artocarpus, these trees are justly ranked among
the most useful produce in Malaysia.
They were sago palms, vegetation that grows without being cultivated;
like mulberry trees, they reproduce by means of shoots and seeds.
Ned Land knew how to handle these trees. Taking his ax and wielding
it with great vigor, he soon stretched out on the ground two or
three sago palms, whose maturity was revealed by the white dust
sprinkled over their palm fronds.
I watched him more as a naturalist than as a man in hunger.
He began by removing from each trunk an inch-thick strip of bark that
covered a network of long, hopelessly tangled fibers that were puttied
with a sort of gummy flour. This flour was the starch-like sago,
an edible substance chiefly consumed by the Melanesian peoples.
For the time being, Ned Land was content to chop these trunks into pieces,
as if he were making firewood; later he would extract the flour
by sifting it through cloth to separate it from its fibrous ligaments,
let it dry out in the sun, and leave it to harden inside molds.
Finally, at five o'clock in the afternoon, laden with all our treasures,
we left the island beach and half an hour later pulled alongside
the Nautilus. Nobody appeared on our arrival. The enormous
sheet-iron cylinder seemed deserted. Our provisions loaded on board,
I went below to my stateroom. There I found my supper ready.
I ate and then fell asleep.
The next day, January 6: nothing new on board. Not a sound inside,
not a sign of life. The skiff stayed alongside in the same place
we had left it. We decided to return to Gueboroa Island. Ned Land
hoped for better luck in his hunting than on the day before,
and he wanted to visit a different part of the forest.
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