CAMP COOKERY.
After the obtainment of food, the art of preparing it in its most
nutritious, wholesome, and palatable form ranks next in importance.
It is well, when travelling with a large party, to ascertain the
qualifications of a couple of steady men, and regularly appoint them
to the cooking department, taking care that exemption from guards,
with a few other privileges, may make the office of cook one to be
rather envied; and, in order that his operations may be successfully
conducted, he should fully understand the art of fire-making.
{Fire, to make.}
The natives of Australia, the Bushmen of South Africa, and the tribes
along the whole course of the Zambesi, as well as many other wild
nations, kindle fire by the friction of two pieces of wood against each
other; there are of course varieties of method, but the principle, that
of whirling the point of a moderately hard stick in a hollow, cut in
one of a somewhat softer character, is very generally the same. The
Bushmen carry these fire-sticks in the quiver with their arrows; and
when they need fire, two men sit opposite each other, and one, laying
his sandal on the ground, places on it the fire-stick, perhaps as thick
as the little finger, and holds it between the soles of his feet, or
between his toes, which for many purposes can be used by the natives
with little less effect than the fingers. In the end of this stick a
small notch is cut, and in this is placed the pointed end of another
stick, about the thickness and nearly the length of a common ramrod.
One man, taking this between the palms of his hands, rubs them so as
to communicate to it a rapid whirling motion, keeping at the same time
a gentle, steady, downward pressure. In a few seconds, this causes his
hands to reach the bottom, and his companion therefore sits ready to
clap his hands to the top and continue the motion till they also come
down, and he in turn is relieved by the first. Very shortly fine wood
dust is produced, and soon after the end of the whirling stick and
the hollow in which it turns become charred, and smoke rises from the
little heap of dust.
A small nest of very carefully prepared dry grass or fibrous bark,
rubbed very fine, has already been provided, and in our illustration a
third man is applying this to the smouldering wood-dust, some ignited
particles of which he will try to catch on the nest of fibre, the whole
will then be enveloped in coarser material, and whirled rapidly round,
at arm's length, until it bursts into a blaze.
[Illustration: OBTAINING FIRE BY THE AID OF THE WHIRLING ROD.]
Where two or three men assist each other in this manner, a couple of
minutes suffices to obtain fire; but if one man attempts it alone,
he cannot keep up a continuous friction, for he loses speed and heat
every time he has to shift his hand from the bottom to the top of the
whirling rod, and, even when he has produced the first ignition, he
is more liable to lose the spark than a third man who would watch his
opportunity for catching it while the other two were keeping up the
heat by the vigorous motion of the whirling rod. Among many tribes the
producing of fire in this manner is a thing of daily occurrence.
The inhabitants of some of the Pacific Islands obtain fire by placing
a piece of bamboo, which has been previously split in half, convex
side upwards, on the ground; a small cut is then made in it as a sort
of holding-point for the end of a flat piece of bamboo, held somewhat
after the manner of a chisel, to work on. The flat piece, on being
driven by the hands rapidly forward and back on the surface, or back of
the long hollow piece of cane joint, rapidly works a hole through it;
the wood dust, formed by the friction, falling through the orifice soon
begins to smoke, smoulder, and burn, when it is placed in a tuft of dry
fibre, like an egg in a nest. A small creeper or vine is now fastened
to the nest, which is then rapidly whirled round the head until it
flames.
There is a very convenient and portable means of carrying fire, sold
under the name of a "strike-a-light," or "chucknuck;" it is formed
from a brass tube of 1in. calibre and 3in. in length, which has a cap
and a sliding bottom to it; it is filled with tinder, made as usual by
setting fire to a piece of rag and extinguishing it as soon as it has
ceased to blaze; it contains also a gun flint or bit of agate, and its
chain passes through an oval of steel or case-hardened iron. When fire
is required, the cap is taken off, and the box held in the left hand,
with the flint so held against its edge that any sparks struck from it
by the steel, which is taken in the right, must fall upon the tinder.
When it is done with, the flint is put in again, the cap put on, and
the movable bottom is pushed up so as to leave no vacant space, but
to exclude all the air, and to extinguish the burning timber. These
tinder-boxes are highly prized; and one of them, value one shilling
or so, is by no means a despicable present to a native in the remote
interior. The shank bone of any small animal is easily converted into a
chucknuck tube.
Slow match and tinder are important matters to the explorer. Loose
cotton, or almost any other vegetable fibre twisted into a cord, and
then soaked in water in which a little saltpetre or gunpowder has
been dissolved, will serve for a slow match. The large puff-balls, or
devil's snuff-boxes as they are called by hunters, found growing about
the borders of the forest, form excellent punk or tinder. After being
gathered they should be hung on a string to dry, then cut into thin
slices, and beaten on a board with a stick until all the powder or
snuff is driven off, when it will be fit for use, either as tinder or
to smoke wild bees from their holes. The soft, partially-decayed wood
found in dry dead logs or hollow trees makes a very good description
of tinder.
In default of a tinder-box, most persons carry a pocket-knife and a
gun-flint. If a bit of rag, with a little dry gunpowder bruised into
it, is rolled up tightly, and held with the flint in the left hand so
that the sparks may fall on the end of the roll, it is very likely to
take fire.
Many stones, as quartz, agate, jasper, iron pyrites, &c., will give
forth a spark, so that if the traveller has a knife, a bit of steel, or
case-hardened iron about him, he need not despair if he can only find a
stone.
The Malays not unfrequently obtain a spark by striking a piece
of broken chinaware sharply against the hard flinty surface of a
well-developed bamboo joint.
Lucifer, congreve, or vesta matches are now so common, that few
travellers think of carrying anything else; yet it is not safe to trust
to them alone, as a little accidental damp may spoil the whole stock.
If they ignite by simple friction there is danger of accident; if
they "ignite only on the box," a supply of friction tablets should be
carried, for the box will soon go to pieces with rough usage.
The trappers of North-West America make use of the German matches, such
as are packed in round wooden boxes being preferred. The composition
ends of these are dipped in a varnish composed of shellac and a
little methylated spirit, which, when dry, as it will be in about
half-an-hour, renders them perfectly damp-proof.
In countries where the sun shines continuously, a burning glass, such
as the lens of a telescope or a Stanhope microscope, will obtain fire
at any time during the day.
The Parsees, when serving on board European ships, carry their own
fire; and we have seen a boat's crew with 3ft. of good stout rope, used
as a slow match to retain it.
A man armed with a gun or pistol has always the means of obtaining
fire. If it be a flint lock, he need not even draw the charge, but,
throwing out the priming on some dry surface, he may plug up the
touch-hole with a bit of wet clay, wet or greasy rag, string, or wood;
in fact any of these materials, even though dry, if rammed in tightly,
become incombustible. The end of a bit of packthread wetted, or of raw
hide reimpjie, is better than any, because the remainder can be used to
pull it out with. The priming can then be rubbed on a bit of rag--dry
or slightly moistened--a corner of it stuck into the pan, the gun full
cocked and the trigger pulled, when most likely the sparks will be
found to have ignited the tinder. With a percussion gun the charge, if
it be loaded, must be drawn or fired away so as to leave the barrel
empty, then a little powder must be put in, and a bit of dry rag, with
powder rubbed upon it, rammed loosely into the barrel; the gun should
be fired with its muzzle downwards or towards a rock or stump, that the
rag may not be blown too far away.
The fire being obtained by any of these means, and secured by being
communicated to a small collection of inflammable material, the next
process is to build up and ignite the fuel that is to serve the
traveller for warmth or culinary purposes. This will, of course,
have been already collected. Prudent cooks generally tie a dry thorn
branch behind their waggon on leaving their outspan, so as to have it
ready as soon as they again halt; or, if fuel be scarce, they keep
a bright lookout upon the way for dry sticks or the dung of tame or
wild animals. Such fuel should be broken up, and the sticks roughly
assorted into sizes. A small elevation will be chosen or made on a
dry patch of ground, and the fire being laid on a little faggot of
small sticks, others are carefully piled round it pointing upward, at
an angle of 45° or more towards the centre--just as if a conical roof
or a church steeple were to be built--and round these the larger ones
are arranged in the same manner, and in successive sizes. (See Fig. 2,
p. 551.) Thus, the property of heated air being to ascend, the flame
is led naturally up along the twigs, and through the interstices, and
when sticks as thick as the thumb are well kindled, others may be piled
on with less attention to regularity. If the intention is to make a
transient blaze as large as possible, perhaps for a night signal, dry
thorn branches of the mimosa, with their large thorns and loose twigs,
thrown on as lightly as possible, will answer excellently. We have seen
in the Karroo veldt of South Africa a bush or shrub of which the leaves
blaze up with almost a resinous flash, but of which the stem is almost
incombustible. This would serve well for such a signal; but when wanted
for the purposes of cooking, the fire requires constant replenishing,
and from the repeated calls for fresh supplies, the shrub has acquired
the expressive name of the "Bring on bush."
A species of "prolea," locally called "Waggon bush," is also highly in
request, as its resinous blossoms maintain a more steady heat.
If the fire is required as a day signal, large quantities of green
wood, leaves, &c., should be heaped on to make as much smoke as
possible; and _vice versâ_ if concealment is desired--green wood should
be avoided, and only small quantities of dry wood used.
We have often, during a night halt among the date-palm jungles,
selected a tree at a convenient distance from its fellows, to form a
sort of gigantic torch. The dry fronds give off in burning sufficient
heat to make the whole crown of the tree inflammable; this, in turn,
ignites the trunk, which burns for some time, and gives a most
brilliant light.
The lighting of a fire in a hot dry climate is a matter of comparative
ease when compared with the obtainment of one in the damp woods of
a cold inclement region. An experienced campaigner will generally
contrive to carry with him a few pieces of dry resinous wood, known
as "kindling chips," with which to start his fire. In the absence of
these, look out sharply for a dead tree or hollow log, and from the lee
side of it, if rain is falling, chop out a good supply of wood as a
foundation for your fire. If you cannot find a dead tree or log, select
the dry side of a living one; chop off the bark with your axe, and then
from the exposed timber remove some long thin chips. Now, under the
shelter formed by spreading your blanket or coat, proceed with your
hunting knife to cut these chips into long, thin, narrow shavings,
much like those used in making the Bavarian toy brooms. When a good
quantity of these has been prepared gather a bundle of the very finest
and most slender brushwood you can find. The largest sticks should not
be stouter than wheat straws; cut these up into foot lengths; place
your bunch of shavings on as dry a spot as you can find. If there are
stones to be obtained, place one on each side of it. Now, with your
small sticks, build a sort of cone loosely over the shavings, each
stick being arranged end upwards, just as hop poles are stored for
the winter; lay over and outside these a few stouter sticks and bits
of bark. When your cone is complete introduce your fire to the centre
of the cone's base. A tube of bark or hollow reed, a piece of curled
up dry hide, or a gun-barrel with the nipple taken out, serves for a
blowpipe to gently urge on the fire with. We--as stated in the early
portion of this work--endeavour, if possible, to have a small pair of
bellows as part of our travelling kit. It is well, however, to know
how to manage without them. Small quantities of gunpowder cautiously
sprinkled in will aid considerably in setting up the first flame of a
sluggish fire. The greatest care must, however, be exercised in order
to guard against accidents from explosion.
We in our early days narrowly escaped the loss of a hand by strewing
a little powder from the flask on some damp moss, which we were
endeavouring to coax into a fire. The instant the grains of powder
reached the fire they ignited, communicated with the contents of the
flask, and, fortunately, blew the brass top from the copper body,
without bursting the metal. On another occasion, nearly a half-charge
of powder exploded in the left hand, whilst we were strewing in the
powder with the right finger and thumb in a manner which we are to this
day utterly at a loss to account for. When making use of gunpowder
as a fire stimulant, we now invariably pour the quantity about to be
used on a leaf or a piece of bark, and place the flask in a place
of perfect safety, some distance from the fire, which, when once
fairly established, may be treated with more boldness, and supplied
with sticks of larger size. If you intend camping down for the night
with your party, the first thing to do, after seeing that your fire
is burning strongly, is to collect a good and sufficient store of
fuel to last through the night and well up into the morning. One of
the elements of fitness in the locality for camping purposes will be
the close vicinity of proper firewood; and here we must caution the
inexperienced against the choice of soft wood trees for a true camp
fire. Pines, and other members of the coniferæ, are very ill adapted
to the purpose. Ash, maple, beech, birch, and other hard woods are the
sorts to be sought for. Trees of about 1ft. to 14in. in diameter are
the best for the purpose. When felled with the axe, they should be
cut into logs of about 12ft. in length, and all the branches chopped
up short to feed the fire with. Prepare two strong heavy stakes of
about 5ft. in length, sharpen the points and drive them into the earth
just behind your fire, in such a way that they may stand at about 6ft.
apart. Cut a notch in the rear of each near the top for the support or
back stake to key into. Now place three of your fire logs one on the
other, as if you were building a log wall. This forms your fire-back;
now take two shorter logs and fix them at the ends as log rests, and on
these lay another long fire log, when the arrangement will be complete.
A fire of this kind, when once thoroughly established, will burn during
the longest night, form a perfect wall of fire, and cause little
trouble, as all the feeding fuel is cast in between the front log on
the log rests and the fire-back. A pot, to be boiled on a fire of this
kind, is conveniently suspended from a stout green pole, so placed as
to rest above the fire-back, whilst its point is forced into the ground
behind.
To keep a small fire steadily burning, let three logs as large as
possible be laid end to end, diverging at an angle of 60° from each
other (as in Fig. 1, p. 551), push their burning ends occasionally
together, and they will last many hours, with but little attention. The
natives of Australia take dry logs, 6ft. or more in length, and laying
them down 3ft. or 4ft. apart, set them on fire in several places.
Letting shorter logs meet them from the outside, and laying good-sized
pebbles around them, they then stretch themselves on the ground and
sleep between the two lines of fire, and when the wood is consumed the
stones continue for some time to radiate the heat they have previously
absorbed. Many tribes of American Indians have their own especial
fashion of fire-building, so that a deserted camp fire will not
unfrequently reveal the identity of the tribe by whom it was made.
In South Africa, when the flats are swamped with heavy showers, and
it would seem almost impossible to kindle the scanty fuel that can
be obtained, the ant-hills with which the plain is covered prove the
greatest imaginable boon to the traveller. One of these hills, 3ft.
or 4ft. high, is selected, its top cut flat off, and a hole dug like
an oven in its side. In this the fire is kindled, the flame rushes up
through the galleries, the clay becomes red hot, and the kettle or
frying-pan soon begins to feel its influence. But this is not all,
for the galleries are most likely full of vegetable matter as well
as of ants' eggs, and larvæ, and these help to increase the flame.
Of course it is cruel, but the traveller and his followers must have
food. By the exercise of a little ingenuity, hollows can be cut in it
for convenience of baking bread, &c. Most farmers build a clay oven
at some little distance from their houses to avoid the necessity of
having a fire actually under their roof. In the Zuur veldt, in Tartary
and Central India, where fuel is scarce, we have seen the cattle-dung
collected and piled along the tops of all the walls and other
enclosures to dry.
When camping down for any length of time a stack of logs and split hard
wood should be formed. Straight logs are easily split by wedges, but
stump ends, which form excellent fuel, are so tough that they require
blowing open with gunpowder. To do this, we bore an auger hole into
the substance of the stump, pour in our charge of powder, and then
screw into the hole a tapered iron plug, on which a very deep rough
screw thread has been cut. This plug has a ring made in its upper end
to admit of the passage of an iron pin used in screwing it in, and the
ring of a bit of old ox chain, the other end of which is secured to
the log under treatment by a large staple, or a screw bolt, in order
to prevent the plug from being blown away and lost. [Illustration] The
annexed illustration represents a section of the stump; and it will be
seen, on examination, that the plug has a hole running longitudinally
through it for a slow-match to go through. The inside end of this match
is allowed to remain long enough to reach the powder in the bottom of
the hole, and that at the outside of sufficient length to enable you,
after lighting it, to get behind a tree, or in some other safe place,
until the explosion takes place, and the flying splinters and fragments
settle. In the absence of one of these iron blasting plugs, a hard wood
treenail may be used to stop the auger hole, and the vent may be bored
with a gimlet.
[Illustration: THE QUERN.]
{Makeshift mills.}
In dealing with many of the food, drink, and oil yielding products
with which we shall have to deal, mills or crushing contrivances, more
or less complicated, will be required. The most simple and primitive
of these is formed by placing the substance to be treated between two
stones, and grinding it by working them forward and back with the
hands. The tortillas or thin pancakes of Spanish America are made
from flour prepared by the aid of a contrivance of this kind. The
maize or Indian corn used in their manufacture is first steeped in
water to soften it. Handfuls of the prepared grain are then thinly
scattered over the surface of the lower or bed stone. The top stone
is then brought into play until the whole is reduced to a species of
paste. This, when flattened out between the palms of the hands, and
rapidly baked over the fire, forms a description of bread in general
use throughout Mexico and other countries where the Spanish races have
formed settlements. Most of the Eastern races and tribes make use of
the ancient quern or hand-mill to crush their grain. This primitive
mill, the subject of the annexed illustration, is, with trifling
modifications of arrangement, almost world wide. A bed stone, slightly
convex, is capped by a running stone somewhat concave. A hole in the
centre admits of the grain being poured in with the left hand, whilst
a second hole out of centre receives the end of the handle used in
causing the upper stone to revolve on the lower. As the grain is
reduced to powder it falls out on a cloth placed to receive it, and by
repeatedly passing between the stones a meal of sufficient fineness
for practical purposes is soon formed. When two or more persons work
at a mill of this description, supplementary handles are attached to
the upright turning stick by strips of raw hide. The "chupatees" or
"aps" of India are usually made from meal ground in mills of this
description. Chupatees, like tortillas, are not unlike pancakes, and
form a most important element of an Indian hunter's diet. Our native
followers always contrived to bear with them in some way or another the
pair of stones necessary to form a quern, and a piece of sheet iron to
bake the aps on, so that, wherever grain of any kind was procurable,
we were at least sure of bread. When a sufficient quantity of meal
has been ground out, it is, by the aid of a little water and much
manipulation, converted into dough or "attar." This is divided into
balls, each ball being sufficient to form one chupatee. The balls are
then one by one taken between the palms of the hands and dexterously
slapped and patted until quite round and as thin as an ordinary
pancake, and then adroitly transferred to the piece of sheet iron which
rested on a small fire close at hand. A little ghee, or native butter,
was then added. The aps, when baked brown, are taken off the plate, and
eaten hot or stored away for future use.
When attached to the expedition sent into the jungles for the capture
of the Nahwab of Banda, we saw our native hunters and followers,
when particularly short of grain, gather the seed of a thin wiry
grass called "nardoo" for meal-making purposes. This nardoo must not,
however, be confounded with the Australian seed of the same name,
as that grows on a plant not unlike our English wood sorrel, the
"hare-bell," or a long-stemmed clover; whilst that of India is a true
cereal, with a head furnished with many grains, like very diminutive
barley.
In Africa and many other countries the pestle and mortar are
extensively made use of for grain and seed crushing. A hard wood log is
easily hollowed out by the aid of fire and cutting tools, and a pestle
is extemporised from any suitable piece of heavy wood.
[Illustration]
A powerful and simple description of mill is made by making a round
and somewhat tapering hole in a large slab of sandstone or grit. In
this a conical block of stone is fitted in such a manner as to admit
of its being turned round by a cross-handle, as shown in the annexed
illustration. The corn or other grain to be crushed is thrown into a
groove which surrounds the hole in the bed stone.
A generally useful oil or sugar-cane mill is in general use throughout
India and Ceylon. Its main bed or cylinder is formed from a solid block
of hard stone, which is hewn out until of the form of an upturned
mortar; in the bore or barrel is fixed, at an angle, a piece of hard,
heavy, and massive baubul thorn tree, which acts as a pestle or
crusher; to this is attached, by lashings of raw hide, a head bar,
which serves to guide its movements and direction. This head bar
is in turn connected with the travelling bar, which runs round the
cylinder much as the jaws of a boom might be made to run round a mast.
The illustration below will serve to show the manner in which the
arrangements are made. One or more bullocks are made use of to turn
the pestle of the mill; and such liquid as may be forced out of the
substance under treatment runs through an orifice, like the vent of
a cannon, into a cane tube, which conducts it into a pot sunk in the
earth. The greater portion of the native cane sugar made in the East is
manufactured by the aid of this description of mill.
[Illustration: NATIVE MILL.]
[Illustration: SUGAR-CANE MILL.]
Whilst at Tette, in Africa, we had an opportunity of seeing the process
of cane sugar making carried out by the native cultivators, which
is conducted as follows: Early in the morning a quantity of canes,
minus their tops, were brought in, and a couple of men, armed with
thin double-edged soft iron knives, 2ft. long and 3in. wide, caught
up the canes in their left hands and chopped off pieces about 2ft.
long, letting them fall in heaps, whence they were taken by others,
who dressed off any knots or young shoots that might impede their
progress through the mill. As soon as this was completed, the parts of
the machine, which are always taken asunder and cleaned after a day's
work, were set up, the whole consisting of eight pieces of wood--first,
the trough, or canoe as the natives call it (an oblong block 5ft.
long, 2ft. 6in. wide, with a hollow 3in. deep to catch the juice, and
three circular holes or sockets in the centre, cut not quite through,
to receive the lower ends of the rollers); secondly, two posts, one
at either end of the trough, with their upper ends tenoned to carry
another log with corresponding sockets for the upper end of the
rollers; thirdly, three vertical rollers, 4ft. long and 8in. diameter,
their upper parts being cut into the form of a long screw, the worm of
the centre one running in the usual direction, and those of the two
others in the opposite. The head of the central roller projects above
the framework, and is squared so as to fit into a mortice in the middle
of a long beam, the two ends of which are used as levers, and, when
turned, the deep-cut worm, acting on those of the other rollers, causes
them to revolve in the opposite direction. A heap of cane was laid by
the mill; and, while eight or ten men ran round with the lever bar,
a native, squatting on the receiving side, fed the canes by handfuls
between the centre and the right-hand roller; while another, catching
them as they came out (as shown in the above illustration), sent them
back again between the centre and the opposite roller on his own
right. This was repeated till the canes were crushed dry and the trough
filled.
The juice was baled out with a calabash; and when it became shallow
was scooped up by the hand, strained through a basket into two large
copper pans 30in. wide and 8in. deep, and boiled on open wood fires, a
couple of women stirring it till sufficiently evaporated. The pans were
then placed on small heaps of soft earth, and the stirring continued
till the whole mass assumed the consistency of dough or toffy, and
eventually crystallised into a fine bright yellowish brown sugar,
leaving no treacle, molasses, or refuse of any kind.
The green cane chewed to express the juice is pleasant and nutritious;
the fresh sap is a most luxurious draught; the syrup, thickened by
boiling, but not yet crystallised, is of a bright golden colour, and
better in taste than what we call treacle; the pap or toffy is by no
means bad.
Next morning, as the friction of the rollers had worn the outer side
of the sockets and thus increased the space between them, a native
carpenter let in pieces of hard wood across the grain of the beam,
and in them cut hollows to the proper outline of the sockets. This
is frequently necessary; and, if it is too long delayed, the rollers
separate so much that the thread of the centre screw catches the edge
instead of the hollow of the others, and is liable to break both. A set
of rollers will last from one to three seasons, according to the amount
of work required. The panellas, or earthen sugar jars, are made by
women.
{Sugar pots, to make.}
A shallow wooden dish, of about 14in. internal diameter, is chosen, and
in this the clay, previously kneaded into a long roll, is so coiled
as to make a circular wall; this is next pressed and patted into a
compact mass, with a smooth surface; it is then built upon, tapering
into a kind of pear shape towards the top, which is 4in. in diameter,
and is finished in a smooth edge (a woman will do this in about ten
minutes); it is then gently lifted from the dish and set aside to dry.
Next day it is turned up, and the wide part, which had previously been
the base, is gradually built upon with fresh clay, till it arches over
so as to leave a very small aperture; the fingers of the left hand are
introduced to support the work, while the hole is being diminished
by applications of fresh clay until it becomes so small that the last
finger has to be withdrawn, and it is finally closed by the dexterous
application of a small piece, quite moist, dabbed on with correct aim,
and slightly smoothed off at the edges by gentle application of the
fingers. A hemispherical cap is then made for the finished panella,
which appears beside it. The jars are then baked to a dull red. From
15lb. to 20lb. of sugar is put in each, making the gross weight from
27lb. to 29lb., a pad of grass to give a flattened base is laced to
each jar with strips of palm leaf, a couple of loops or beckets are
left to lift it by, and each jar is sold for about three fathoms of
calico.
{Cakes, to bake.}
In cooking an "as-koekie," or ash cake, a fire is made upon a smooth
flat piece of ground, and when this is well heated, and there are
plenty of glowing embers, the fire is swept away; the cake, generally
of meal or of seconds flour and water, with a pinch of salt in it, is
laid upon it, the ashes are then strewed over the cake, and the embers
raked over all, fresh wood being heaped over if necessary, and it is
left for two or four hours according to its size and the intensity of
the fire. The Australian damper is made in the same manner, except that
the finest flour is used and kneaded with as little water as possible;
in fact the flour is merely damped sufficiently to make it adhere,
and then by dint of hard kneading is converted into a solid mass, the
object being to have no moisture in it that would cause it to become
mouldy if kept or carried for several days upon a journey. As this
article of breadstuff is such a general favourite with old bushmen,
it may not be amiss to give full directions for its preparation. The
size of the damper of course depends on the numerical strength of the
party for which it is about being prepared. The first thing to do is to
obtain a flat, broad, dried sheepskin, or slab of bark, large enough to
constitute a kneading-board; on this pour from your flour sack enough
flour for use; sprinkle in some salt; work a wide basin-shaped hole in
the middle of the flour, keeping the right hand moving round it whilst
water is thrown in a little at a time from any convenient vessel held
in the left. Continue to do this until a thick, strong, adhesive dough
is formed; work this well about on the board with dry flour until a
large pudding-shaped ball is formed; strew your board with fresh flour,
dust over your ball with a little, and proceed to press and flatten
it out until a round, even, pancake-shaped mass is formed--about
2-1/2in. in thickness will be found a convenient substance. This may be
ascertained by cutting a notch in a sharp stick at 2-1/2in. from the
joint, and thrusting it through here and there, working away in the
meantime until the thickness is uniform. The red hot embers of your
camp fire, which should be good, clear, and well-burned, must now be
scooped aside with a shovel, flat-pointed stick, or a sheet of green
bark, leaving a clear even surface of hearth. Now, deftly taking the
damper in the palms and outspread fingers of your two hands, drop it
evenly and lightly on the heated ground, making all flat and compact
with your hands, and then with your shovel or makeshift spade rake
back the heated embers over your damper until it is deeply buried in
them, and in between one and two hours, depending on the weight of the
batch, it will be cooked to a turn, be of a light rich brown, and a
feast for a king. Hungry men not unfrequently satisfy their hunger by
making dough nuts, or "beggars on the coals" as they are called, whilst
the damper is cooking. These are merely small lumps of dough hastily
twisted off and cast on the embers to grill. The dried yeast powders
prepared by some good makers are well worth taking on an expedition,
when very superior bread can be made by their aid. We have made good
bread with and without them, by placing the loaf under an upturned
copper or iron cooking pot, heaping on the ashes until the baking
process was completed, and then dusting the loaf well with a bunch of
fresh green twigs. We made an excellent oven in the Crimea from an old
powder canister. This we buried in an horizontal direction in the bank
at the back of the cook house. Clay was well rammed in round it, and
after it had been sufficiently heated by a charge of vine roots and
aught else we could obtain, it was swept out, the bread pies or tarts
(for we even arrived at that stage of the baker's art at last) were put
in, the copper cover of the canister was luted fast with wet clay, and
the baking proved most satisfactory. A small iron-hooped barrel makes
an excellent oven. Lay it on its bilge in a deep groove, scooped in a
convenient bank, cover it with a complete and thick coating of strong
clay, leaving one head, the outer one, open; then fill in the earth
above the cask, and well stamp it down; now lay a few stones in the
cask, and light a fire on them, letting it smoulder the whole of one
day and a night, in order that the clay may dry. Now remove the stones,
and light a strong fire of dry wood in it. This will burn out all the
staves, and leave the clay oven fit for use. A large flat stone and
some clay makes a good oven stopper.
[Illustration: 1-7]
If a light cake for present use is required, and the ashes adhering to
the outer surface are thought objectionable, a frying-pan, of which
the handle had been broken off, may be inverted over it, or a plate of
iron may be supported upon four stones, and the fire piled over all as
before. (See Fig. 3.) The three-legged iron pot, or Meg Merrilies (Fig.
4), forms an excellent oven; light bread may be baked in it, or joints
may be roasted, or pastry made to suit the most fastidious taste. A
fire must be made underneath it, and a sufficient quantity of clear
glowing embers raked out and piled upon the iron cover, which ought
not to be lifted until the moment when the contents are judged to be
properly cooked.
{Flesh meat.}
But it is when the larger animals of the wilderness fall before the
hunter's rifle that the resources of the African _chef de cuisine_
are really called into requisition. Suppose an elephant has been laid
low, and, after an extemporised supper of steaks, or "carbonatjies,"
the party determine to have a foot for breakfast, the fire, which has
already partially dried the ground, is swept away, or perhaps a new
spot is chosen, and a hole 30in. in width and depth is made, a fire is
lighted in this, and a quantity of dry wood thrown on and allowed to
burn until the sides of the hole and the earth immediately surrounding
it are thoroughly heated; the fire is then raked out, the foot,
generally a fore one, which has been amputated at what may be called
the wrist-joint, and answering to the knee of the horse, is placed in
its natural position in it (Fig. 5), the ashes are shovelled in, the
hot embers above them, the hot earth over all, and a roaring fire is
lighted on the top and left to burn all night. In the morning this
is cleared off, the foot is dug out, the upper parts soiled by the
contract of the ashes are cut away, and the rich gelatine and other
morsels are left to be dug out by the stout keen pointed knives of the
expectant hunters, the tough skin serving all the purposes of a dish.
Very frequently a piece of the trunk is put in at the same time, and
this is generally left as a stand-by, to be eaten cold, when it looks
and tastes almost like coarse tongue; the foot, on the contrary, being
best while still warm. The hump of the white rhinoceros, treated in
nearly the same manner, is in reality a most delicious morsel, the
rich juices accumulating in the dish formed by the thick skin, while
the upper part and adhering ashes is cut off and thrown away; but, if
proper care has been taken, another flap of skin slightly larger will
have been cut out and skewered, as in Fig. 6, for a dish cover, and
this will not only prevent the annoyance caused by dirt and ashes, but
will prevent the absorption of the juices which would otherwise take
place.
A mode of cooking a dish of hippopotamus, discovered by Sir Samuel
Baker, is well worth bearing in mind. Speaking of it, he says: "I
tried boiling the fat flesh and skin together, the result being that
the skin assumed the appearance of the green fat of the turtle, but
is far superior. A piece of the head thus boiled, and then soused in
vinegar, with chopped onions and cayenne pepper and salt, throws brawn
completely into the shade." The rump steak from an eland is also a
delicacy hardly to be surpassed. The side of the rump, skin and all,
with as much flesh as can be dug out with it, is cut off; the edges of
the skin are then gathered together and skewered like a pudding bag
(see Fig. 7), and it is then put into the heated hole, or a fire is
built around and over it upon the surface, the advantage being that
the juices have no chance of escape and the meat is most deliciously
cooked; in fact, if the quantity be insufficient, all the inner
portions of the skin may be pared away and eaten, leaving only the
scorched cuticle. The gipsies' method of rolling up a fowl in a ball
of clay, putting it into the fire till it becomes red hot, and then
breaking it open, with all the feathers scorched so as to be no longer
recognisable, and the fowl itself deliciously cooked, is well known.
Fish when dressed in this way are delicious.
In some countries the natives appear to have a taste for boiling or
stewing their food, although at the same time they do not possess
vessels of iron, or even of clay, that will bear the action of the
fire: nevertheless their case is not hopeless. We have frequently seen
the cooking holes of the Australians--generally beside some rivulet,
where fish and fresh-water mussels were easily to be obtained, and
even an alligator might occasionally be killed. A hole (see Fig. 8,
p. 551), 2ft. in diameter and 1ft. in depth, is dug in the ground,
and the inside nicely clayed; the fish or flesh, carefully wrapped in
grass or in the leaves of the pandanus, is put in and the hole filled
with water. In the meantime large stones have been heated at a fire
not far off, and these are dropped one after another into the water,
being removed by means of crooked sticks as they cool to make room
for others more thoroughly hot; then, when the water boils, or is as
nearly boiling as it is possible for hot stones to make it, the hole
is covered with grass; earth is heaped on it, and the food is left to
steam until it is considered sufficiently cooked. Should the mess be
large, and require longer boiling, a fire may be lighted above the
cooking hole, less for the purpose of imparting fresh heat than for
that of preventing the loss of the heat already produced below it.
The New Zealanders, Sandwich Islanders, and some of the Indian tribes
of North West America, cook most of their food in this manner. In the
Pacific Islands a pig, with the potatoes, yams, or other vegetables, is
nicely wrapped in several folds of mat or native cloth and left to stew
all night; and we have heard it said that flesh may be boiled by this
process in a sufficiently water-tight basket. Salmon and other fish are
commonly boiled by Indians in birch bark by the aid of hot stones.
{Makeshift furnace.}
While coasting along the shores of North Australia we were often
at a loss for something like a warm meal; fortunately, we had as a
compensation a case of gin with us, and, as long as it lasted, we
thankfully availed ourselves of it as a means of restoring the animal
heat after we had been chilled and wearied by a night of exposure and
incessant labour. When the weather moderated a little, we took a 6lb.
preserved beef tin (see the following engraving), cut out the top of
it, and then, after making a number of triangular cuts in the sides
about half-way down, we turned the tongues inwards so as to make at the
same time supports for the piece of tin we had cut out from the top,
and holes by which the air could enter freely; the upper edge we cut
into van-dykes, turning alternately one point inward and one a little
out, so as to make a firm rest and secure hold for another tin of the
same size, which we used as a boiler. We set the whole upon the bottom
of our upturned baling tub, and lighted our fire upon the false bottom
with coir, or fibre of cocoa-nut husk, steeped in cocoa-nut oil, and
with chips of deal cut off the trail of our little carronade. In this
manner we not only made tea and coffee, but warmed up our preserved
meat, and fried our salt pork.
[Illustration]
During this voyage we fell in with one of the very few so-called
"edible" things we have been unable to eat, and this was the "trepang"
(_beche le mer_, or sea-slug); this, with the scanty boiling or
roasting we could afford it, was about as tender and well tasted as
the sole of a shoe well saturated with sea-water; but, after having
been parboiled and dried by the Malay collectors, sold by them for
15_l._ per ton to the Chinese, and subjected to the elaborate culinary
operations of that people, we have no doubt that, with sufficient
condiment, it produces a soup quite worthy of the praises they bestow
upon it.
[Illustration]
When we were left with a couple of Krooboys in the pinnace of H.M.S.
_Hermes_, on the Zambesi, we took an empty preserved potatoe box,
composed of sheet iron, between 16in. and 18in. square, and, cutting
out the top as in the case before described, we made half-way up
the sides a series of triangular cuts, turned the points inward as
supports, and let the top sheet previously punched full of holes down
upon them; above this we cut a good-sized hole for the admission of
fresh fuel, and another below for access to the ashes accumulating
there. This proved a first-rate portable furnace; it was large enough
to accommodate the coffee kettle and a moderate-sized stew pot or
frying-pan. The bottom being made with a flange riveted to the sides,
as shown by the rivet heads in the sketch, was sunk nearly 1 in.
within the edges, and therefore left just that amount of vacant space
between it and the boat's thwarts or other plank that it might be set
upon, thus preventing any danger of burning the plank should even the
falling embers heat the iron before they died out. For additional
security, we put a couple of chocks under to raise it; but there was no
necessity for securing it by cleats or lashings; still we have drawn
them to show how they might be applied, if requisite. A piece of the
iron wire netting, now commonly sold for fencing, if neatly turned up
at the sides, would make a very efficient fire-basket; and, if the
meshes prove too large, a couple of pieces so cut or folded that they
cover each other unequally would reduce the size of the apertures to
something less than half. This might be slung by wires (as in Fig. 1),
set upon legs, or supported according to convenience. The form of the
old cresset, which may be well enough imitated with a few bits of iron
hoop (Fig. 2), with or without rivets, is worth bearing in mind. Light
may be obtained by sticking a pole into the ground, splitting the top
of it, and sticking in the cleft a slip of red pine or other resinous
wood; the burning may be accelerated by depressing the lighted end (as
in Fig. 3), or retarded by raising it.
[Illustration: 1-6]
{Fuel.}
When wood is scarce, almost any animal substance may be used as fuel;
the dung of all graminivorous animals, the dried flesh, cartilage, fat
and bones, will all burn. Dr. Livingstone once burnt the dried bones of
an elephant in the furnace of the little steamer _Ma Robert_; and in
trying down the blubber of a whale, the scraps from which no more oil
can be extracted are used as fuel to melt the rest. Arctic explorers
constantly burn bones to obtain heat. Parties away from a vessel on
boat service frequently have blue lights or rockets with them. A blue
light is usually provided with a percussion cap, so that it bears its
own means of ignition; but, if there should be no need to burn it, the
sulphur may be removed and used in small quantities to tip the ends
of bits of paper, wood, or any light combustible matter to serve as
matches.
A candle may be saved from guttering by being placed in a tube large
enough to contain it with a small aperture to let the wick come
through; if a spiral spring is at hand to force the candle gradually
up, so much the better; if not, have the tube long enough to allow a
stick of the same size to be inserted under the butt of the candle,
then weight the tube heavily (see Fig. 4, p. 555), and it will of
itself press downwards as the candle burns away.
Fig. 5 is a clay mould used by the natives of some of the islands of
the Eastern Archipelago for cooking sago; it is heated nearly red
hot, the sago paste is ladled into the hollows shown in it, and, when
cooked, taken out in the form of very palatable biscuits. In South
Africa we make very excellent fritters by mixing a stout batter of
meal or flour with a little sugar; then setting a pot of sheep's-tail
fat upon the fire, we keep it boiling, and taking up a spoonful of the
batter drop it into the boiling fat. When a South Sea whaler is trying
out blubber, the men take biscuits, saturate them thoroughly with
water, tie them in a cloth to which a line is made fast, and throw them
into the boiling oil. They also tie up fish in a cloth and throw them
into the pot, secured in the same manner.
{Hints on food.}
Commander E. Belcher says that farmers throw a bag of flour into the
water to keep it cool; the outer layer only forms paste half an inch
in thickness. The American whalers put their flour casks into salt
water to prevent weevils getting in; the outer paste dries as hard
as flint, and resists their attacks. And lastly, speaking from his
own experience, he says the flour balls washed ashore from a wreck,
dirty-looking and studded with sand, gravel, and pebbles till they
seemed almost like plum puddings, were most carefully gathered up and
preserved; they were broken when required, and the dry flour inside
made into cakes; this, with a little rum from the wreck and a scanty
supply of salmon purchased from the natives, supported him and his crew
for ten days; even the flour which had been reached by salt water was
not quite spoiled, if the gravel and sand could be extracted.
What we rather absurdly reject as the offal of an animal contains in
reality some of its tenderest and best parts, and the natives who
follow a white man for the game he kills are well aware of this; and
they know that he has a prejudice in favour of cleanliness, which to
them seems groundless. However, they do not fail to take advantage of
it, and, in cutting up an animal, generally contrive to break up the
interior in such a manner that, without actually spoiling the tit bits,
they give them a very unsightly appearance. If the traveller is content
with the solid flesh, of course he can let them do as they like; if
not, he must look out in time. It is quite well to know that the
marrow-bones slightly warmed afford most delicious food; the marrow of
the ox is good, that of the buffalo is better, but that of the koodoo
is the _ne plus ultra_. The bones of the quagga--at least, so far as
our experience goes--afford no marrow; indeed, there is no hollow for
it, the inside being a cellular structure filled with oil. The flesh,
also, being rather rank, persons of very delicate taste do not relish
it. The wild Hottentots, however, not only eat it, but use the name
"quagga" as the general term for food. We have frequently eaten it,
and can safely say that it only requires a good appetite to make it
palatable enough. The head of this or any other animal is best cooked
in its skin--a good fire being made round it and earth heaped over the
embers all night.
The skin of most animals will afford nutriment--of course, the
thicker it is the better; that of the hippopotamus, which varies in
different parts from half an inch to two inches, is very good. It may
be roasted, or broiled, or boiled down to a soft jelly or even to a
soup or gelatine, and in all these various forms it is good. We have
saved large slabs of the hide after killing a hippopotamus; and after
the flesh was gone the skin served us well, the Damaras washing it
and pounding it between a couple of stones till it was tender enough
to eat. When that was done, however, and we had to come down upon the
hides of buffaloes shot three months before, and at that time dried so
hard in the sun that we had to cut them up with a hand-saw, we found
that, even after a couple of days' soaking in the pool and two days
more of boiling, nothing but the simple fact that we had nothing else
would have induced us to eat them. The quagga skin is even harder; but
our native followers cut it out piecemeal from under a Dutch lad who
was using it as a bed till they barely left him enough to lie upon. We
had used the hide of a black rhinoceros to make side chests for the
waggon, and these, though much harder than the hardest wood we know,
were taken off, roasted, pounded between stones, and eaten. Meat that
has been cut into small pieces and exposed to the heat of the sun, so
as partially to dry without allowing it to become tainted, may be eaten
without further cooking.
In Tartary it is said to be common for a rider to cut a thin steak of
beef and lay it under his saddle before he sets out on his journey,
and after some hours he finds that the combined effects of constant
pressure and warmth have, if not cooked it, at least rendered it
palatable enough to be eaten.
In Norway, the stew-pot, after having stood for some time upon the
fire, is taken off and wrapped in a thick covering of felt, which,
being a bad conductor, prevents the escape of the heat, and forces it
to expend itself on the continued cooking of the meat. A very neat
arrangement of this kind was recently exhibited at the Polytechnic
under the name of the Norwegian cooking stove. It consists of a small
wooden box, thickly lined with felt, in which there is just room to
deposit a stew-pan. After it has been brought to boiling heat upon the
fire, it is then shut close, and in three or four hours the dinner
is thoroughly cooked. We should think this, in waggon travelling in
Africa, for soldiers on the march, or on board fishing boats or small
vessels, would be a very desirable acquisition.
In Australia we constantly ate our ration of salt pork uncooked; and,
even when recently taken from the cask, it was very good in this
manner, with a little lime-juice and sugar. _Per contra_, however, the
pork, with the bone cut out, and packed in canvas bags for carriage by
pack horses, soon became dried by the sun; the fat all melted out of
it, and was used to grease our boots or harness; and the once juicy,
succulent, full-sized four-pound piece of pork became, after a few
months' carriage, a semi-fossilized bit of nondescript matter, not much
bigger than our fist, and weighing just three-quarters of a pound.
Nevertheless, we had to take it at its nominal value, as we had no
opportunity of replenishing our stores until our return to camp; and we
found experimentally that we could not afford to diminish our scanty
rations any further by boiling it.
It may be of interest here to give the scale of rations on which we
travelled, and on which, though we could certainly have consumed more,
we lived and worked for several months without finding our health or
strength in any way impaired:
Salt pork, per diem, 1 lb. (nom.)
Flour, 1 lb.
Coffee, roasted and ground, 3/4 oz.
Or tea, 1/4 oz.
Sugar, 3 oz.
Tobacco, 1/4 oz.
Soap, 1/4 oz.
In camp, if we killed a sheep, the allowance was 1-1/4 lb. of fresh
meat instead of salt; a pint pannikin was also used as holding an
equivalent to 1 lb. of flour. But on the journey we were never able to
issue a full pound, because drying it in the sun diminished its weight;
and, beside this, as we carried two 1/2-lb. tins of gunpowder in each
50 lb. bag of flour, their weight, as well as that of the double canvas
bag, had to be deducted, leaving a net weight of very little over 48
lb. In serving the weekly rations, our plan was to weigh every man's
bag of flour against our own, and, if he thought his was in any way
deficient, to give him the option of changing; also, when the pork was
laid out, to let every man choose his ration, and to take that which
remained for ourselves; and we found, as we believe will generally be
the case, that the men, seeing that they were fairly treated, did not
abuse the confidence we placed in them.
{Sheep killing.}
In times of scarcity, it may be well in killing a sheep to follow
the example of the Tartars, who are perhaps the most dexterous sheep
butchers in the world. When they kill a sheep nothing is wasted; even
the blood is most carefully preserved for use. Instead of cutting the
throat of the animal in the usual way, they pass a long slender knife
in by the side of the breast-bone in such a way that all the large
vessels above the heart are instantly severed. All the blood therein
contained is poured out into the cavity of the chest without the escape
of any. When requisite, it is ladled or scooped out, and placed in some
convenient vessel. To skin the animal, the knife is first run along the
whole abdominal line, from the top of the throat under the chin to the
inside of the root of the tail, lines are then cut up each leg to the
hoof, and the skin is dexterously stripped back from each side until
nothing but a mere line of adhesion is left from the top of the tail,
along the middle of the back, and up the neck. The sheep is now turned
on its back, and the skin spread evenly out, like a mat, under it. The
process of division into convenient joints now takes place, each piece
being arranged in order on the skin, whilst the offal is secured in a
wide basket. When all the joints have been duly cut out, the skin is
taken by two men, one before to grasp the skins of the fore-legs and
the other those of the hind, just as a hand-barrow is carried; and in
this way the meat is carried to the tents for use.
{Economy in food.}
Once, in Australia, after having emptied a 50lb. bag of sugar, we
rinsed out the bag with half a pint of water, making a strong syrup,
which we poured into a small iron bucket; then, rinsing it again
with another half pint, we obtained a like quantity, somewhat less
sweet; and this we repeated till the bag was washed clean and we had
about three pints of sweetened water in our bucket. We then drew from
the store half a ration of sago for four persons--_i.e._, 1/2lb.
each--boiled it in the syrup, and thus produced a mess which everyone
who tasted it declared to be delicious.
One of our party devoted a spare hour to fishing, and, with hook and
line, caught a large water tortoise and some fish; and shot a bird.
The first of these when killed--_i.e._, so far as the division of the
jugular would kill it--was laid upon its back upon the embers, served
up in its own shell, and was a most palatable addition to our meal.
The large lizards of Australia, sometimes from 4ft. to nearly 6ft.
long, are most excellent and delicate food, but the proper method is
to roast them in the skin; and we have known the most intense anxiety
felt lest we should require the skin of a particularly fine one as a
specimen of natural history. This was somewhat calmed by the assurance
that we only wished to sketch it, but the operation was most jealously
watched, and, when we had completed our picture, we divided the body
into quarters and the tail into four junks, for the four members of the
party; and these dainties, carefully spread upon forked branches cut
for the purpose, were set up above the embers of an ample fire, raked
out into glowing heaps under each junk or quarter. In about twenty
minutes they were thoroughly cooked, and proved, indeed, a delicacy,
the flesh being white as chicken, and the taste reminding us rather of
turkey than anything else.
The various cockatoos, parrots, wood-pigeons, storks, and cranes are
all good. The dawn or rose-breasted cockatoo (_Cacatoa eos_), the white
variety with the sulphur-coloured crest, or the black cockatoo, each
form a very tolerable, though not an ample, meal for one man. Various
species of hawks or kites, though not so delicate, may also be eaten;
and in Australia, where carrion is not so plentiful as in Africa, and
the hawks feed principally upon insects or small fish, their flesh,
though dark in colour and tough, is by no means bad. We have eaten the
white-headed African fish-eagle and the large horned owl, which, though
somewhat tough and rank, were better than going upon scanty fare.
We first ate the flesh of a snake at Graham's Town, South Africa. A
friend had brought us a puff-adder as a specimen; and, when we had
skinned it, the flesh looked so white and firm that we cut out a junk,
about 6in. long and as thick as our wrist, and desired the Kafir
girl, who acted as cook, to fry it. An acquaintance who partook of it
acknowledged that it was good, and that only the thought of eating
snake prevented his enjoying it more fully.
The Australian blacks eat snakes of every kind, as well as any small
animals they can catch; and we have often seen fellows whose sole
apparel consisted of a snake girded round their waist, with two or
three rats hitched by their tails to it. We were taught the orthodox
way of cooking them by a first-rate fellow, John Fahey, an Irishman,
who had been nearly fourteen years among the blacks. He first let the
flame expend itself, and then spread out the embers, on these he coiled
up the snake until the scales were slightly scorched; then taking it by
the tail, he drew it repeatedly through his hand, brushing the crisp
scales off toward the head, and again coiled it on the embers till it
was thoroughly cooked; then opening it and throwing away the offal he
picked out the tit bits and offered them to us, and afterwards divided
the body.
The flesh of the alligator while young, and not more than 6ft. in
length, is very good; but when larger, it becomes very strong, and
acquires a musky flavour. We once killed an alligator of 11ft. on the
Horseshoe flats, near Curiosity Peak, Victoria River, North Australia.
The smell was to a degree rank; yet when we took the carcase to the
vessel next morning, and the second overseer cleaned the skin and
skeleton, we found that excellent cutlets were to be obtained from the
muscular portion of the tail; and after breakfast, when the prejudices
of the crew had given way, claimants were found for the flesh as fast
as it could be stripped from the bones. Considerable seasoning was
required, but still it was better than salt junk.
{White ants.}
In South Africa, just when the white ants are about to swarm and take
the half-hour's flight which is allowed them before their wings drop
off, the natives collect with torches; the ants, being attracted by the
light, assemble, and are swept up by basketsful. After being scorched,
they are kept in mat bags, holding two or three gallons each, and
are really delicious food. They are pleasant to the taste, and very
nutritious; for if one be left on a sheet of note-paper when the sun is
shining brightly on it oil enough will exude to make a spot a couple of
inches in diameter. The chief convenience of these is that they require
no cooking, but any quantity may be carried in a bag, and a handful
taken out and eaten when wanted.
The vast clouds of locusts, which in some countries both darken the
air and devastate the land, are eaten greedily by nearly everything
possessing life--men, animals, birds, fish, and insects, all join in
the locust feast. The provident savage lays by a store merely smoke
dried, to consume at his leisure with such tuberous roots or other
underground productions as his sable spouse, armed with her sharp
pointed grubbing stick, can procure for him.
The inhabitants of many of the islands of the Eastern Archipelago
consume certain insects as food, wherever they can procure them. Mr.
Wallace, who resided some time among the Dyaks, says: "Every day boys
were to be seen walking along the roads, and by the hedges and ditches,
catching dragon flies with birdlime. They carry a slender stick, with a
few twigs at the end, well anointed, so that the least touch captures
the insect, whose wings are pulled off before it is consigned to a
small basket. The dragon flies are so abundant at the time of the rice
flowering, that thousands are soon caught in this way. The bodies are
fried in oil, with onions and preserved shrimps, or sometimes alone,
and are considered a great delicacy." In Borneo, Celebes, and many
other islands, the larvæ of bees and wasps are eaten either alive
as pulled out of the cells, or fried like the dragon flies. In the
Moluccas the grubs of the palm beetles (_Calandra_) are regularly
brought to market in bamboos and sold for food; and many of the great
horned Lamellicorn beetles are slightly roasted on the embers, and
eaten whenever met with. In many districts where the cocoanut palm
grows abundantly, the curved and tightly rolled up immature fronds are
perforated by the workings and burrowings of the "Tucuma" or "Grugru,"
the larvæ of _Oryctes rhinoceros_. These are large plump grubs, with
black hard heads, and are esteemed a great luxury, being either fried
in cocoanut oil, or seized by the head, dipped in a little lime juice
and disposed of without further preparation.
The nests of the white ants are often broken by the natives in search
of the eggs, and even of the insects, for scarcity of animal food
compels them to eat anything, and the grubs that lurk under the bark of
the gum trees are accounted delicious fare. John Fahey was an adept in
searching them out; and in fact, when we first made our camp, girdled
several trees in order that they might die, and that grubs might
accumulate under the bark. The grubs are eaten fresh, raw and living,
just as they are taken from the tree.
In most countries there will be some vegetable product or other
available for food. In Australia we have cut out what may be called
the cabbage from the roots of the pandanus leaves, and found it, when
boiled, almost as good as a very inferior turnip. The seeds from the
large globular fruit were also worth looking for, because in the
pencil of fibre, by which they are attached to the base, is contained
a quantity of sweet and farinaceous matter; this we found also was
highly relished by the small fish and fresh-water tortoises in the
rivulets, and we frequently baited our hooks with them.
In Africa, if we were accompanied by a Damara on a shooting trip, and
were unsuccessful, we returned hungry, but if we took a Makalaka, he
would be sure to dig up roots or gather wild fruit, or vegetables of
some kind or other; and perhaps catch a lizard or other small creature,
or occasionally discover a bees' nest in a hollow tree. Once when we
were much exhausted with long-continued want of food, the man who
accompanied us saw a few of the small African bees around the branch
of a tree, he forthwith climbed it, and chopping off a piece of bark,
bruised up the ends with the head of his axe, till he had formed a
kind of trough, which he set his assistants to hold, and chopped away
till he had sufficiently enlarged the hole to allow him to extract the
honeycomb.
The roots of the lotus or blue water-lily are very good, and have a
taste, when roasted, something between that of a chesnut and a potatoe.
Lotus roots are obtained from the bottoms of some of the Eastern lakes
and rivers by making use of a very long and soft leather sack. Into
this the lotus gatherer gets until the top of the sack is on a level
with his neck. He then walks, or rather hobbles, into the water, wades
by short steps out to the lotus beds; and, when he feels the roots
beneath his feet, he digs and works with his toes and heels until they
are detached from their hold on the bottom, and float on the surface,
from which they are readily raked and collected for use.
The Bushmen wade in the shallow pools and pluck them up by hand, but
in the deeper rivers the canoe men have long poles with a hook at the
end for detaching the roots. In these pools, also, they frequently
capture the "matamaetlie" or edible frog, which is sometimes nearly
as large as a chicken. The Bushmen grip them by the nape of the neck,
strike them across the thighs and across the spine to disable them, and
then, placing their lips to the vent, blow till they force the stomach
and all the entrails out at the mouth. The flesh of these frogs is
exceedingly good, more like chicken than anything else, and we often
found a good-sized one make us a very satisfying meal.
{Lotus seed.}
The seed of the lotus is extensively used as food throughout the East;
the Chinese esteem it highly, and prepare it in a great number of ways.
Sir Samuel Baker, in speaking of lotus seed, says: "All the tribes of
the White Nile have their harvest of lotus seed; there are two species
of water-lily, the large white flower, and the small variety. The seed
pod of the white lotus is like an unblown artichoke, containing a
number of light red grains, equal in size to mustard seed, but shaped
like those of the poppy, and similar to them in flavour, being sweet
and nutty. The ripe pods are collected, and strung upon sharp pointed
reeds, about 4ft. in length. When thus threaded they are formed into
large bundles, and carried from the river to the villages, where they
are dried in the sun and stored for use. The seed is ground into flour,
and made into a kind of porridge."
{Rice, to boil.}
Rice is so well known as a food grain that little need be said of it
further than that a wild kind is found growing in many of the swamps
of America; the grain from this is beaten off with sticks into canoes
which are propelled through the shallow water in which the rice stalks
grow. Some skill is required in cooking rice, in order that each grain
may be separate. Our native Indian cook used to proceed as follows: The
rice was first thoroughly washed in a large jar of clean cold water,
two washings being generally required to remove all stain. The water
was then strained off, and the clean rice drained quite dry. A cooking
pot full of water was then placed on a brisk fire, and allowed to
boil actively; when in full ebullition the rice was cast in, the fire
stirred, and the boiling continued actively for about sixteen minutes,
when the pot was lifted off, placed on one side, and a pint lota pot of
cold water thrown suddenly into it; the sudden chill thus communicated
divides every grain from its fellow, and, when strained dry, rice
prepared in this manner is truly excellent and attractive.
Ostrich's eggs have often been treated of, and every traveller speaks
of them according to his particular experience. Probably, when a party
of half-a-dozen men have plenty of bread and every other necessary for
a good meal, they will find that one egg is quite enough for them;
while a stout fellow, destitute of everything but a keen appetite,
would find an ostrich's egg not more than enough to satisfy himself.
The capacity of a good-sized one is about 2-1/2 pints, the taste is
rich, and sometimes a trifle strong; in fact, we could never eat much
of one unless it were in some way diluted, say mixed with flour and
made into a cake. The readiest way of cooking them is to break one end
of the shell, set the other end into the embers on the ground, and so
cook and serve the contents in their own shell. We prefer, however, to
start the egg into an earthen pot, and add nearly an equal quantity of
flour or meal, making cakes or fritters, seasoned or not according to
taste.
{Various foods.}
Indeed, we should think that, if eggs in plenty could be obtained,
this would be a very economical and effective way of provisioning a
small party for a journey where everything must be carried, and where
the means of carriage was scant or perhaps altogether wanting; but, in
this case, the eggs would have to be mixed with as much flour as they
would take up, and the cakes baked as dry as possible without burning
any part of them. A nautical friend has told us of a plan adopted on
surveying expeditions, when boats are sent for several days from the
ship. A rough grater is made by punching holes in a sheet of tin, and a
junk of salt meat grated down tolerably fine; the meat powder is then
mixed with flour with very little water, rolled up into small balls or
cakes, and dried in the galley. When wanted, a portion is broken off,
kneaded with a little water, enveloped in a crust of flour and water,
tied up in a cloth, and boiled in the boat's copper as a meat pudding.
The North Australian expedition was abundantly supplied with preserved
fresh meat, but the tins in which it was packed could not conveniently
be carried in bags on pack horses, and therefore, in preparation for
an extensive inland journey, estimating the quantity required, we took
out of store equal weights of preserved beef and flour; then taking
the contents of a 6lb. tin of beef and 6lb. of flour, he kneaded them
together, divided the mass into forty-eight parts of 1/4lb. each, and
baked them in an oven built of clay and the schooner's pig ballast
for the purpose. Nearly 3lb. weight were lost by the evaporation of
the moisture in the process of baking, so that the forty-eight cakes
representing 12lb. of meat and flour, and forming six days' rations
for one man, could be carried at a weight of 9lb.; the rations of
sugar and other groceries making the total weight only about 10-1/2lb.
or at most 11lb. As long as the biscuits remained whole four of them
were considered equivalent to 1lb.; but when they were broken up into
dust a pannikin about three-quarters full was reckoned an equivalent.
In either case, the best way of using it was to mix it with water and
warm it up as a thick soup. This compound has been adopted by other
travellers in Australia, and found to answer the purpose exceedingly
well.
We should think that where fresh and really good fruit is plentiful
it might be treated with flour nearly in the same manner, and would
form a very agreeable variation in the diet. Dried fruit may be had
in many countries, such as Cape Colony, where dried peaches, raisins,
&c. are constantly in the market, and these stewed with the meat are
not to be despised; but in some form or other vegetable matter, as
acid as possible, is absolutely necessary; for no one who has not been
compelled to live for weeks together upon meat alone can imagine how
utterly disgusting the smell and taste of even the freshest and most
savoury joints become when unvaried by any vegetable, to say nothing
of the injury to health that such a diet must cause. In Australia we
have gathered the young shoots of the wild vine and made what our
cook called rhubarb tarts of them; and when these failed, a small
succulent herb called "portulac," or more popularly "potluck," which
could be eaten as a salad, supplied their place. In Africa we have
found unspeakable relief from a bundle of dry tamarinds brought from a
distant tribe; and when recrossing the desert during the rainy season,
we found abundant supplies of wild grapes growing luxuriantly along
our path. No matter that they were not ripe; the more tart and sour
they were the better; and by the time we had got well within the desert
border, and were beginning to find that the intense sourness, which had
already served its purpose as a corrective, was beginning to set our
teeth on edge, we also began to find riper clusters on the bushes as we
advanced; they were, of course, not equal to the cultivated varieties,
but were by no means a bad substitute.
We also gathered daily large quantities of the beer berry, or
"ovúmbapoov," about the size of a cranberry, but nearly filled with
a hard stone or kernel; these were of a pleasant, sweetish, acid
taste, and could be eaten as we gathered them and walked along, or
when we halted could be pounded with water in a "halwe stamp block,"
or modern mortar, into a very pleasant pulp; the only drawback was the
small quantity of food in proportion to the amount of kernel, and the
difficulty of getting rid of the latter. Sometimes we would collect a
quantity, pour boiling water upon them, let it stand to extract the
juices, and then put it aside to ferment. The liquor thus obtained was
not unpleasant, it was something between inferior beer and second-rate
cider. Once we boiled the juice down to a thick syrup, which was so
sweet that a spoonful of it served instead of sugar to our tea, but the
quantity produced was so small in proportion to the trouble that we
never repeated the process. Many other fruits, roots, and vegetables
might be named; but if the traveller makes friends of the natives
they will find whatever the country produces for him, and they will
never refuse to share what they pick up either with him or with their
hungry comrades. Indeed their language supplies no title of contempt
equivalent to that of "the man who eats alone," or who saves anything
for the morrow.
We cannot omit, however, to mention the fruit of the Baobab or
"Adansonia," which both in Africa and in Australia we have found
extremely valuable. The tree will at once be known by its enormous
size. We have generally seen young, well-conditioned trees 30ft. in
circumference, while others have been 50ft. or 60ft., and the largest
we know of was actually 101ft.; its height, however, is by no means
proportionate, it being seldom more than 60ft., or at most 70ft. or
80ft. The fruit is generally about the size of an ostrich's egg,
though we have seen it much larger; the rind is about as thick as
the egg-shell, and easily broken; the interior is occupied by seeds
imbedded in a pleasant sub-acid pulp, of a white colour, which when dry
resembles cream of tartar, and has caused the Dutch Africans to bestow
upon it the name of "krem tart boom," or cream-of-tartar tree. This
pulp the Bushmen pound up with a little water, and sometimes mix with
it a little meal of grass seeds, to thicken it, or by adding more water
make a very pleasant drink.
In Australia we found even the soft wood so succulent that we could cut
out a junk with the axe, and chew it for the moisture it contained
like a wet sponge; while the fruit of the Gouty-stem tree (_Adansonia
Gregorii_), when boiled up with a little sugar, acted as a powerful
antiscorbutic among the sailors of our little schooner, completely
curing the disease, and leaving only the unavoidable weakness, from
which, with the advantage of better food, they gradually recovered.
Millet of various kinds, known under the general denomination of Kafir
corn, can be purchased from most of the Kafir and Bechuana tribes. It
may be eaten boiled with meat, but should be previously husked in a
wooden mortar, and would be better and more digestible if it were also
bruised. We have ground it to a kind of rough meal in a coffee-mill,
but found that it would not knead up into cakes without a little
European or colonial flour to bind it. Sometimes the native women
bruise it to meal in their wooden mortars, and in times of scarcity
gather the seeds of several wild grasses, which they treat in the same
manner.
This meal will not make bread in our sense of the word, but it will
make a very good mess, something between bread and pap or porridge,
called "maassa." An earthen pot with water is set upon the fire, and
when the water boils a little meal is dropped in and stirred, more and
more is then gradually added and stirred until the mess thickens, and
is served up like a very dense paste. A very little soup or meat gravy
makes it agreeable enough.
Maize or Indian corn is very extensively grown in Africa, and most
other warm countries, and nothing can be more delicious than the young
ears, either boiled or roasted in their sheath, the leaves of which
everyone strips off for himself when it comes to table, spreading a
little butter on the ear according to taste; it is perfect etiquette
in this case to take the ear up in both hands just as you would pick
a bone, and bite the grains off; indeed, the young corn cannot be
properly eaten in any other manner.
Maize grains, when in the milk stage, can be preserved for future use
in the following manner: The heads are first cut from the stalk, the
covering of leaves and the tassel are then stripped off, and all the
grains broken from the cob or core with the fingers into a shallow
basket; a wide pit is then dug in the earth, and red hot stones and
embers are cast in until the bottom and sides of the pit are thoroughly
heated. All the stones and ashes are then removed, and all dust
brushed away with green branches. A quantity of maize leaves are now
brought and made use of to line the pit, and form a sort of nest for
the reception of the maize, which is covered with a thick layer of
leaves and left until baked. The grain subjected to this process,
instead of becoming parched and dry, remains sweet, and when boiled
with meat much resembles green peas.
The ground nut, such as is brought from Sierra Leone, is obtainable
in many parts. It may be eaten raw, but is better slightly roasted.
The Portuguese make a very nice confect of it, and it contains so
much essential oil that one nut will burn with a clear flame, like
a wax candle, for fully a minute. This oil makes it one of the best
substitutes for coffee we know of. Slightly roasted and ground, and
infused in the ordinary manner, it is exceedingly good. Most of the
indigenous grains and grasses are also used, but some of them only act
as a kind of vegetable charcoal to give a toast-and-water like colour
to the morning beverage. We have frequently tried the beans of various
species of mimosa, and have found them valuable in exact proportion
to the quantity of essential oil contained in them. The dwarf shrubs,
carrying generally the largest beans, were the best, and we should
think the diminutive tree, scarcely 18in. high, and bearing a pod more
than a foot long, called "Eland's boontjie," would be best of all. At
other times we have used burnt pumpkin, but this produced rather a kind
of vegetable soup.
{Uses of tea.}
Tea is one of the most valuable and important stores carried by the
explorer or traveller, and an ample supply should always be taken. We
prefer the Australian method of tea-making to any other; and, whether
with our brass lota pot or tin quart mug and pint cup, proceed in
the same manner to brew it. We first pour as much water as we think
requisite in the pot, put it on the fire, and raise it to the boiling
point; then take it off and add tea in proportion to the number to be
brewed for, covering down the vessel with an inverted tea bowl until
the tea has drawn; it is then fit for use. By adopting this plan the
tea for the early morning's start need not be made the night before;
a few chips, sticks, dead leaves, or a lamp, will serve to give heat
enough to boil a well-blackened pot; and a very few minutes will
suffice, while the packs are being arranged, to prepare a bowl of
warm tea, which, with a little bread or native cake, will serve as a
stand-by until the regular breakfast hour. For a very long time it was
our custom when in India to strike tent at 2 A.M. and march at
3, in order to avoid the heat; but we never omitted our bowl of tea.
Among the natives of Chinese Tartary extensive use is made of brick
tea, not only as an article of diet, but as a medium of currency and
exchange.
This curious preparation is commonly made use of by travellers and
the lower orders throughout the length and breadth of Tartary, Tibet,
and the Kirghis steppes. The bricks vary in size according to the
particular district in which they are made; but to be of convenient
and saleable character they should be about 1ft. long, 6in. wide,
and from 1in. to 1-1/2in. thick. To make tea-bricks, all the late
shoots, imperfectly-formed leaves, and immature buds to be found in
the tea plantations, after the tea harvest is over, are collected;
they are then subjected to the action of water until soft and pliable,
bullock's blood is then added, the mass is then thoroughly mixed and
incorporated, and, when of a tough, firm consistence, it is divided
into portions of convenient size, which are pressed into brick moulds
prepared for them. When turned from the moulds the bricks are laid on
hurdles, and subjected to heat until dry. They are then fit for the
market, to which the finished commodity is usually carried in sheepskin
bags. When required for use, the portion to be consumed is broken from
the brick with the head of a hatchet or a heavy stone; the fragments
thus detached are broken up small between two flat stones, and then
rubbed between the palms of the hands until fine enough for preparation.
There are several ways of preparing brick tea for consumption. One is
to place the rough powder in a pot or kettle with water, and boil it
until a red decoction is formed, a little salt is then thrown in, which
causes a slight effervescence to be set up; when this ceases, and the
liquid becomes tranquil, and of dark colour, milk is added. If it is
desired to make the tea thus prepared more than commonly attractive to
the visitor, butter is added. Sometimes a mixture, called "Imitanka,"
is made from it; this is formed by adding a quantity of clotted cream
which has become sour to the boiled tea water, and when it has boiled a
short time, adding salt and a bowlful of millet seed flour. The whole
mixture is then boiled for about three-quarters of an hour, and is
ready for the table, or rather floor of the tent, on which it is usual
to sit. Barley meal and suet added to the tea water makes a kind of
gruel, or stirabout, which is much relished by the wandering Tartars,
and appears to agree vastly well with them. Brick tea is not only used
as we have described, but is common among Tartar dealers, and those who
attend the fairs held for the purpose of sale and exchange as a medium
of currency, just as the beaver skin and the Dentalium shell are by the
North West Indians of America.
Almost every country has its own peculiar method of preserving
animal food for future use. The salting of meat, and the consequent
deterioration of its nourishing properties, must be well known to all
who have made long voyages, unless, indeed, they have always sailed in
first-class ships, where the appearance of salt junk upon the cabin
table is quite exceptional. Where it can conveniently be carried, we
think that boiled fresh beef, preserved in air-tight tin canisters, is
by far the best, as being in effect equal to fresh killed meat cooked
in the same manner. We have seen considerable quantities of this meat
used after being carried by land and sea about the world for years, and
we do not remember that we have ever opened a tin which was not in good
order, and perfectly fit for food. And we should also think that in
many places where immense herds of cattle almost encumber the land they
live upon, this method of transporting their flesh to a better market
would be well worthy the attention of their owners. There are many
variations in the method of preserving, but we believe the simplest and
most effective to be as under. Kill the animal by a rifle shot behind
the ear or otherwise, skin it, and hoist it by block and tackle to a
convenient tree, then commencing at the hind-legs, which are of course
uppermost, strip off all the flesh from the bones, leaving the skeleton
still hanging, cut the flesh into pieces as nearly 6lb. in weight as
possible, put them into a cauldron with very little water, and boil
them well. Have a number of cylindrical 6lb. tins, and set them ready
in a trough of boiling water, kept hot by a steam pipe or other
available means; put a piece of beef in each tin, with liquor enough
nearly to fill it, and then solder on the top, which should have a hole
in it; when all the tins of meat are thus far advanced, pour in at the
small hole liquor enough to fill the tin, clean round the edges of the
hole, and close it with a drop of hot solder, so as to seal the tin
hermetically; then remove them from the water, dry the outsides, paint
them with any coarse colour, mixed with boiled oil, and they are ready
for exportation to any part of the world.
Where meat in this form cannot be carried, perhaps the next best method
is to cut it into strips or flakes, and dry it thoroughly in the sun,
with, or more frequently without, a little salt upon the surface.
Meat by this process loses some of its nutritious quality, but it is
so conveniently kept and carried, and so little liable to damage,
that there is scarce a country in the world having sun enough for the
purpose when it is not adopted in North America. The flesh of the
buffalo, or bison, and in South America that of the domestic, or rather
half-wild, ox, is used; and Sir F. Head, in his rough notes of the
pampas, remarks that a man can live longer on dried beef and water than
he can on any other unvaried diet.
The trappers and traders of North West America make extensive use of a
kind of prepared food known as "pemmican," and very large quantities
of it are manufactured on the buffalo range. It is thus made. Buffalo
flesh is cut with the hunting knife into convenient flakes and flat
steaks or layers. These are either hung in the sun or near a slow
fire until dry, when the dried meat is ground between two stones
until sufficiently fine. A bag is then made of buffalo hide, with the
hair side out, and the preserved flesh, after having been thoroughly
mixed with hot fat, is well rammed and pressed in. The bag is then
securely stitched up, and the pemmican allowed to cool and harden. When
required for use, it is cut from the mass like hard sausage meat, and
either eaten cold, or, when mixed with flour or meal, a sort of thick
porridge, called by the trappers "robiboo," is made from it.
{Food to preserve.}
In many of the Australian islands and New Zealand vast quantities of
sea-fowl (the sooty petrel or mutton bird, especially) are captured
for food by the sailors and natives. These birds visit the islands
annually in vast flocks, arriving generally about the latter end of
November, for the purpose of depositing their eggs, of which each hen
bird lays one or two, about size of ordinary goose eggs, and somewhat
similar in flavour. The cock bird takes charge of the nest during the
day and the hen by night, taking in turn the duty of going to sea for
food. Perfect warrens, like those of rabbits, are formed by these
birds, who burrow in the soft ground for a distance of 2ft. or 3ft.,
and there form their nests. Some of the islands are so thickly and
completely honeycombed by these feathered miners as to render walking a
very unsafe proceeding.
The collection of the eggs and young birds from the depths of the holes
is a task usually assigned to the native women, who not uncommonly find
a snake coiled up where the young petrel should be. When a large catch
is determined on for preservation and the obtainment of feathers, a
number of bird hunters assemble and construct a sort of hedge or fence
a short distance from the beach, and just before daybreak, when the
birds, about to proceed to sea to feed, are out of their retreats, a
sudden rush is made by the whole assembled party of birdcatchers who,
with the most hideous yells and cries, drive the throngs of waddling,
flapping victims, who cannot rise from the ground to fly, towards the
centre of the fatal barrier, where a deep pit has been prepared for
their reception. Into this they are forced, layer on layer, until they
literally suffocate each other in their vain endeavours to escape from
the treacherous pitfall. The feathers, when plucked from the birds, are
worth about 3d. per pound, and it requires the joint plumage of about
twenty to produce that quantity. Thirty bags of feathers, constituting
the cargoes of two trading boats, were obtained by the sacrifice of
18,000 birds. A portion of the birds are preserved by dry smoking, and
are extensively made use of. Some of the New Zealand tribes, by whom
this bird is called the "Titi," have recourse to a most ingenious and
effective method of preservation for it and some other articles of
food. The petrels, after having been carefully plucked, have all their
bones removed. They are then cooked over the fire in large shallow
dishes or platters, made from the bark of the "Totara" tree, and when
sufficiently done are placed in the natural bottles or flasks formed
of a species of seaweed, like a huge variety of the bladder-wrack
(_Fucus vesiculosus_) of our own coasts. The heated fat from the birds
is then poured in, and the sea-bottle securely tied up. Provisions
treated in this manner remain perfectly good for a very long time,
being completely excluded from both air and moisture. The Indians of
Vancouver Island make use of seaweed bottles, made like those just
described, to store up fish oil in.
{Hints on large game.}
In Africa, the flesh of the ox and of all the game animals--from
the antelope and buffalo to the giraffe, and the rhinoceros, the
hippopotamus, and elephant--is used under the general name of
"biltong." The scene, when one of the larger animals has been shot,
and is found perhaps next morning by the hunter's native followers,
is exciting enough. In the case of an elephant which has lain till
ten or eleven o'clock, when the heat of the sun will have begun to
form gases in the stomach, and to distend the carcase till a man may
tread upon it as he would on an unyielding rock, the man, whose duty
it is to make the first incision, approaches cautiously, taking care,
if possible, not to to come leeward, and especially to see that his
retreat is clear; then reaching forward at the full length of his
arm, he drives his spear into the abdomen, leaping backward at the
same time to avoid the gaseous and liquid discharge which ensues. The
rest wait until the carcase has collapsed, and the stench is somewhat
dissipated, and then rush in and commence the cutting up. The thick
skin is torn in broad planks from the sides, groups of men mount upon
the ribs, and, squatting there upon their hams, use their assegais
in cutting down through the flesh; others, having effected a breach
in the thinnest part of the abdomen, enter and tear out the internal
dainties, and then, assegais in hand, begin to cut the flesh from
the inside of the ribs--an operation, it will be readily believed,
involving no small risk to these who happen to be sitting just above
them, and who not unfrequently receive a hint that the human skin is by
no means invulnerable. The surrounding bushes now begin to be covered
with blanket-like flaps of skin and meat, by membranes and sheets of
the internal fat, and from every fire arises the savoury odour of some
tit bit, being hastily grilled to appease the appetite while the pot
which has been filled with the first cuttings of the flesh is being
boiled. Long, straight poles are next cut, and laid across like rails
from fork to fork of other trees, and on these the flesh, cut into
strips from 3ft. to 16ft. long, and about two fingers thick, is hung to
dry, care being taken not to hang it so closely as to prevent the air
passing freely between the pieces. Two or three days will generally be
enough to dry the meat, which is then taken down, and either tied up in
bundles if to be carried by men, or stowed as loosely as possible in
the waggon, being opened and spread out at every halt for the first few
days to guard against the possibility of putrefaction; further cooking
is not absolutely necessary. The biltong may be bruised up with a yoke
skei, or the head of an axe, and eaten raw, or it may be broiled and
bruised as before, or if boiled it may be put into a native mortar and
pounded with a pestle or a yoke skei until the fibres are thoroughly
separated, and much trouble is saved in the way of mastication. With
the addition of a little cinnamon or other spice, dried peaches, shreds
of dried onion, or any little thing to vary the taste, this is by no
means a bad dish for hungry men.
In all cases, however, it is well to make a proportion of the meat
carry itself; and here the traveller will be called upon to exercise
great caution. It will never do to purchase at random a number
of animals of various species, because, in the first place, the
different kinds will not herd together, and, therefore, each will
require separate attendants; and, secondly, because the country to
be explored may be unfavourable to the existence of some of them. In
North Australia we took no cattle, because we had reason to think
that plants poisonous to them abounded there. Of our flock of sheep
we took none beyond the standing camp, and even of them we lost more
than three-fourths by the disasters of the sea and river voyage before
they were landed. If men would make up their minds to eat horseflesh,
we believe it would be more economical, and would give less trouble to
the exploring party, who might purchase at the outset a considerable
additional number of horses, young of course, but at least sufficiently
docile to carry a pack and travel with the others; and when the burden
of one of these had been eaten off, to shoot him, and convert as much
of his flesh as could not be eaten in the first two days into biltong.
In many of the later expeditions camels have been used more or less
successfully, and their flesh has also served as food to the explorers
on emergencies.
In South Africa oxen are so generally used that no one thinks of
undertaking a journey of any extent without them, and, not less as a
matter of course, his vehicle is the ox waggon; horses, as many as
the traveller can afford, also accompany him; but, if he is really
a hunter, these are seldom or never ridden until their energies are
required for active service, but leisurely driven on by a Hottentot
lad, and carefully tended, so as to husband their strength and keep
them in good condition till they are really wanted. Sheep and goats are
taken because most of the native tribes are so essentially pastoral
that these animals may be cheaply purchased from them; and young lads,
willing to drive them, may be hired for a trifling reward in addition
to their food.
Nevertheless, all these animals are liable to casualties on the road:
the goats or sheep may die from feeding on the beans that fall from
the kameel doorn and various acacias; the stud may be thinned off by
the annual horse sickness, even though the traveller may have taken
the precaution to buy, at a higher price, what are called salted
horses--i.e., such as have once had the sickness--for it is well known
that if a horse takes the sickness in a district where it prevails
in a mild form, which is generally the case in such as have been for
a considerable time colonised, it will not protect him in the remote
wilderness where the disease still maintains its unmitigated strength.
It is, therefore, always advisable to ask not only whether the horse
has had the sickness, but where he passed through the ordeal. We have
known as much as 100l. given by a hunter for a horse up to his weight
and warranted to be salted, with the proviso, however, that if the
horse died of sickness during the first season his price was to be
reduced by 60l.
{Hints on food gathering.}
In all cases of extreme scarcity of food, we strongly advise the
traveller to leave no stone unturned which may yield aliment of some
kind to help him on his way before he sacrifices his riding horse or
mule. Where a number of animals accompany an expedition, a few may
perhaps be parted with from time to time; but we earnestly advise the
solitary hunter or explorer to exercise every faculty he possesses for
food finding before he makes up his mind to destroy his four-footed
friend. Different regions not only furnish different food-yielding
products, but possess climates which necessitate the use of appropriate
kinds of aliment. Food may be viewed in the light of fuel, and man
as a lamp. The more intense the cold and severe the exertion the
greater will be the expenditure of elements rich in carbon, such as
oil, fat, blubber, flesh, &c. Arctic travellers and those who dwell in
the regions of ice and snow find themselves compelled to follow very
closely the customs of the Esquimaux in their diet scale. Dr. Kane,
the Arctic traveller, says: "Our journeys have taught us the wisdom of
the Esquimaux appetite, and there are few among us who do not relish
a slice of raw blubber or a chunk of frozen walrus beef. The liver of
a walrus (Awuktanuk) eaten with little slices of his fat, of a verity
is a delicious morsel. Fire would ruin the curt pithy expression of
vitality which belong to its uncooked pieces. Charles Lamb's roast pig
was nothing to Awuktanuk. I wonder that raw beef is not eaten at home.
Deprived of extraneous fibre, it is neither indigestible nor difficult
to masticate. With acids and condiments it makes a salad which an
educated palate cannot help relishing; and as a powerful and condensed
heat-making and antiscorbutic food it has no rival. I make this last
broad assertion after carefully testing its truth. The natives of
South Greenland prepare themselves for a long journey in the cold by a
course of frozen seal. At Upernavik they do the same with the narwhal,
which is thought more heat making than the seal, while the bear, to
use their own expression, is 'stronger travel' than all. In the far
north, where the explorer has to carefully husband such food as good
fortune may cast in his way, no portion of an animal is wasted." The
Doctor, when speaking of the value of every part of a beast, says: "The
skin makes the basis of soup, and the claws can be boiled to a jelly;
lungs, larynx, stomach, and entrails are all available." Starvation is
far less to be feared by an experienced traveller in tropical climates
than among the ice of the polar regions, as, in the first place, the
large quantities of animal food consumed to sustain vital heat are
not needed; and, in the next, the vegetable and insect world far more
abundantly contribute their aid in furnishing his larder. Here again
the explorer will do well to follow, in cases of necessity, the
example set by the natives, who not unfrequently manage to sustain
life in regions which to the unpractised eye would present nothing
but hopeless barrenness. The inhabitants of very extensive tracts of
country, extending through the Presidio del Norte, in Mexico, subsist
for months together on the large bulbous roots of the Maguay (_Agave
Mexicana_), which grows in the dry arid soil of these regions. These
roots vary in size from the diameter of a 4lb. loaf to that of a
two-gallon jar, and are not unlike a huge onion in external appearance.
When intended for food they are simply dug up and roasted in hot ashes,
when they become palatable and wholesome. It is from these roots that
the Mexicans prepare their celebrated "Mescal," or aguardiente, a
spirit stronger than the best whisky. To prepare this, a pit is dug in
the ground to about the depth of 3ft. and about 10ft. in diameter; a
complete layer of stones is then made on the bottom and round the sides
of the pit, which is then filled with billets of wood and branches of
bushes; these are then ignited, and the fire is suffered to burn until
the stone lining and borders of the pit are strongly heated; a quantity
of freshly-gathered grass is then thrown in and formed into a sort of
lining for the stones, and on this the bulbs of the maguay are cast
until the pit is nearly full, when a quantity of grass is thrown over
the top layer, and the baking or roasting process is suffered to go on
until the roots are thoroughly cooked. Large leather sacks are then
brought to receive the roots. Water is thrown in until a sort of gruel
is formed, which ferments for about a week, and is then distilled in a
rough makeshift still, when the liquor is fit for consumption. This is
the plant which produces the pulque, which we have before described.
The fibres of the leaves make excellent ropes and twine; the young
and immature leaves, when doubled up in the hand, make an excellent
substitute for soap and the fresh crisp sprouts are good for cattle
food. The region of the Gila and the Sonora district also produce the
"Petahaya," the great candelabra cereus. This curious plant grows in
the form of either a fluted column or gigantic candelabrum; the stem
is not unfrequently from 2ft. to 3ft. in diameter, and grows to a
height of from 40ft. to 50ft. Mr. T. R. Bartlett, in his exploration
of the Gila, made extensive use of the fruit of this plant. He thus
describes it: "The plant probably blooms late in May or early in June,
and the fruit is matured in July and August. The flowers, borne on the
summits of the branches, are 3in. in diameter, and about the same in
length. The petals are stiff and curling, and of a cream-white colour;
the stamens are yellow and very numerous. The fruit is about the size
and shape of an egg, sometimes rather longer than the true egg shape,
having a few small scales without spines. The colour of the fruit is
green, tinged with red when fully ripe. It consists of an outer coat or
skin filled with red pulp, inclosing numerous small black seeds. The
fruit when mature bursts at the top, and exposes the pulp, which at
this time is rather mawkish to the taste; but a few days' exposure to
the sun dries it to about one-third its original bulk, and the whole
mass drops out of the skin. In this state it has the consistency of
the pulp of a dried fig, and the saccharine matter being concentrated
by drying, it somewhat resembles that fruit in taste. The Pimo and
other Indians collect the pulp and roll it into balls, in which state
it probably keeps the whole year, as it was offered to our party
which passed through in January. They also boil the pulp in water
and evaporate it to the consistence of molasses, after which it is
preserved in earthen jars."
Insects, as well as fruit and fruit products, contribute largely in
some parts of the world to the subsistence of the natives.
Wild honey not unfrequently proves an acceptable addition to the
explorer's larder. To obtain this the movements of wild bees should
be carefully watched. Sometimes they may be seen high overhead flying
in a direct and steady double stream; one throng bending its way
heavily laden to the hive or colony, and the other departing on a fresh
expedition. In some parts of the world--India, for example--the wild
bees usually construct their combs either beneath the shelter afforded
by the bifurcation of the large branches of a timber tree or the stems
of the palm fronds as they shoot from the main trunk. In America,
Africa, and some other countries they generally seek the protection
afforded by a hollow and partially decayed tree trunk. To find the
stores of a swarm of wild bees, cast your eye sharply overhead and
note the general line of flight. Catch a bee and tie a thin filament
of down, wild cotton, or white floss silk to his leg and let him fly;
he will generally wing his flight homewards, and can be followed. If
there is any uncertainty about the line of direction in which the bees
fly, which may proceed from other swarms being in the neighbourhood,
catch two bees at different points, plume them, and carefully note
the point at which their line of flight joins. When you have to track
a long bee flight, it is a good plan to dress a piece of bark with
honey, in order that it may act as a lure to the bees. As they take
in a store and fly away with it, note their flight, taking the line
followed by the greatest number; advance your bark a couple of hundred
yards in the line; take a fresh departure, and so on until the bee tree
is discovered. The honey guide of Africa (_Cuculos indicator_) will,
by his restlessness and efforts to attract attention, not unfrequently
conduct the traveller to the bees' nest; but when following this
feathered conductor be on the alert and keep both barrels of your
rifle at full cock, as he sometimes brings you face to face with a
creature far more formidable than a honey bee. To take possession of
the honey few Europeans like to venture on the bold course followed by
many natives, as from some cause or another, which we are utterly at
a loss to explain, a naked black fellow will invade the stronghold of
the bees and carry off the honeycomb in their very midst, with little
or no preparation. When bees are in a hollow tree the best plan is to
fell it with the axe, light a long line of damp brushwood to leeward,
make as much smoke as you can, and during the panic caused by the
general crash, split up the log, chop the bee hole large enough to be
practicable, and get the honeycomb out as fast as you can into some
convenient vessel.
In New Caledonia we find the large spider there found (_Aranea edulis_)
greedily partaken of. It is simply roasted over the fire when required
for use. There is another curious description of food made use of
by the natives of the lake borders in the neighbourhood of Chalco
and Texococo; this is made from the eggs of a species of boat fly
(_Notonecta_) and two or three insects of similar habits. The insects
deposit their eggs by myriads on the stalks of the reeds growing in
and about the margins of the lakes. The natives, when going on an
egg-hunting expedition, provide themselves with cloths and sticks.
The reeds, when bent to the edge of the spread cloth, are beaten
and shaken, when the eggs drop off into the sheet placed for their
reception. After being spread on other sheets, and thoroughly dried in
the sun, they are treated just as if they were grains of corn. Flour is
made from them by grinding; this is regularly packed in suitable bags,
marked as to weight, &c., and sold in the native markets.
In laying in the stores of an expedition about to start from any large
city it is well to obtain, if possible, a good supply of Challet's
preserved vegetables, as they can be made available when nature
furnishes no green food. The space occupied by this useful preparation
is so small that a very large quantity can be stowed away in a very
small compass. It has been computed that 3ft. of cubic space will
contain 16,000 full allowances. In pastoral countries there is usually
little difficulty in obtaining milk; and in regions destitute of
domesticated cattle the explorer can generally manage to get on without
it. Goats yield a great deal of excellent milk, and trot along freely
with animals on a march. When it is desirable to carry milk for any
distance for the use of children or sick people, it may be preserved
as follows: Take a tin canister, a bottle, or a large ox horn, with a
bottom and mouth made in it; fill the vessel with milk; put it in the
camp kettle, and let it boil steadily for three quarters of an hour.
Now, if your vessel is a canister, solder down the cover; if a bottle
or horn drive in the stopper and wax it down with melted beeswax. The
milk will then keep well. In some countries preserved toad-stools
are extensively made use of as an article of food; but here we must
give the traveller a caution regarding the mushroom or _Agaricus_
family when viewed in the light of aliment, as, strange to say,
varieties which are found perfectly wholesome in one country are not
so in another. Thus, for instance, we find some of the most poisonous
toad-stools found in England (_A. virosus_ and _A. muscarius_) amongst
the number eaten with impunity in some parts of Tartary and Russia.
There may be said to be only three kinds of true edible Agarici found
in Great Britain. _A. campestris_, the common meadow and garden
mushroom, remarkable for its pleasant odour and the colour of its
gills; _A. pratensis_, or the fairy-ring mushroom (which is found
growing in the green rings or circles in our grass lands, attributed
by the superstitious to supernatural agency); and _A. Georgii_, which
in some respects resembles _A. campestris_, but has lighter coloured
gills and less flavour. When driven by necessity to seek mushroom
food, either in this country or out of it, bear the following rules in
mind: Avoid every one you see with its cap or head thin in substance
as compared to the thickness of the plates or gills--with the upright
or stalk attached to one side of the crown--with the plates or gills
all of the same length--yielding a juice like thin milk; and, if you
find any with a sort of band composed of a substance like the webs of
spiders surrounding the upright, have nothing to do with them. We have
seen whole strings of dried _A. muscarius_ suspended to dry from the
rafters of Tartar huts. These you may eat safely in Tartary, but not
out of it. Fish roe, like mushrooms, when intended for food, requires
care in selection. The large barbel, found in many of the large rivers
and lakes abroad, yield at times a very considerable quantity of
roe or spawn. This we have known on several occasions to prove very
unwholesome, if not absolutely poisonous. Herring spawn is collected
on some coasts in vast quantities by the natives, who place long lines
of bushes at low-water mark for the ova to collect on. Salmon roe is
also eaten to a great extent by many Indian tribes. We have seen great
quantities of sturgeon spawn collected for conversion into "caviare."
To prepare the spawn large bags, with their ends sewn up, are made;
a slit is then made in the side, just large enough to put the hand
through; into this the roe and a good quantity of strong "bay salt"
brine are introduced and the hole is then secured with a wooden skewer.
When the brine has nearly all soaked out through the bag, a pair of
hand sticks are fastened to its ends; these are seized by two men and
twisted round until the bag resembles a thick rope. Roe pickled and
pressed in this way will keep a long time, and is very nutritious.
The eggs of poultry or seafowl can in some countries be collected in
considerable quantities and laid in as a store. Eggs boiled hard in
a strong solution of salt keep well. They may also be preserved by
first breaking them into boiling water, with a little salt dissolved
in it, just as you would prepare poached eggs; boil for three or four
minutes, and then take them out of the water; place them to drain, and
when dry heat them on a thin iron sheet over the fire until deprived of
moisture; they are then fit to pack away. To preserve native butter,
first melt, then strain it through a cloth, boil it steadily in a camp
kettle, skim off all the froth with a large shell, set in a stick,
until no more rises; then pour it whilst hot into leather bags or
earthen jars to settle. Do not omit the straining process, or you will
find more hairs in your butter than are agreeable. A search among the
rocks, pools, and over the ledges on the seacoast will generally repay
the food hunter. Shell fish, small crustaceas, and in some localities
edible seaweeds, may be found; both lavar weed and caragreen moss will
help to furnish out a meal. When shooting seafowl to help to fill the
larder do not pick them; open the skin across the vent, taking care
not to cut through into the abdominal cavity; turn back the skin with
your knife, cut off the projection or oil gland, known as the parson's
nose, and then strip the skin forward, cutting off the legs at the
knee-joints, wings at the pinions, and the head half way up the neck;
now remove the entrails from your bird, wash it well in the sea, and if
you have an onion or two for stuffing cut them up and put them in the
bird, which may be sewn or skewered up, and then roasted. A sea bird
makes a good grill if split down the back, pegged open with a stick,
well peppered and salted, and then broiled over the embers. Captain
Bligh found that by keeping seafowl in a hencoop and feeding them with
grain that they became fat and of good flavour.
Snails form nutritious and wholesome food, as do the Unios and Adontas
(popularly known as fresh-water mussels). These shells are to be found
in most lakes and rivers. Fish of one kind or another will generally
repay those who search for them.