THE MILK-TREE.
Guapo kept his promise with the tapir, and on that very same day.
Shortly after the macaws had been brought in, little Leona, who had been
straying down by the water's edge, came running back to the house, and
in breathless haste cried out, "Mamma, mamma! what a big hog!"
"Where, my pet?" inquired her mother, with a degree of anxiety, for she
fancied that the child might have seen some fierce beast of prey instead
of a hog.
"In the water," replied Leona; "among the great lillies."
"It's the tapir," cried Leon. "Carrambo! it's our tapir!"
Guapo was busy plucking his macaws, but at the word tapir he sprang to
his feet, making the feathers fly in all directions.
"Where, señorita?" he asked, addressing little Leona.
"Down below," replied the child; "near the edge of the river."
Guapo seized his gravatána, and crouched down towards the bank, with
Leon at his heels. On nearing the water, he stopped; and, with his body
half-bent, looked down stream. There, sure enough, was the huge brown
beast standing with his body half out of the water, and pulling up the
roots of the flags with his great teeth and long moveable snout. It was
not likely he would return to his former den after the chase he had had;
and fancying, no doubt, that all the danger lay upon the opposite shore,
he had come to this side to browse awhile.
Guapo cautioned Leon to remain where he was, while he himself, almost
crawling upon his belly, proceeded along the bank. In a few minutes he
was out of sight, and Leon, seeing nothing more of him, kept his eyes
sharply fixed upon the tapir.
The latter remained quietly feeding for about ten minutes, when the boy
saw him give a little start. Perhaps, thought he, he has heard Guapo
among the weeds--for the tapir has good ears--and that was what caused
him to make the motion. The tapir stopped feeding for a moment, but then
recommenced, though evidently not with as much eagerness as before.
Presently he stopped a second time, and seemed undetermined as to
whether he should not turn and take to the clear water. In this way he
hesitated for several minutes; then, to the astonishment of Leon, his
body began to rock from side to side, and the next moment, with a
plunge, he fell heavily backward, making the waves undulate on all sides
of him. The arrow had done its work--he was dead!
A loud shout from Guapo echoed along the river, and the Indian was seen
plunging forward to the dead tapir, which the next moment he had seized
by the leg, and was dragging towards the bank. He was here met by the
whole party, all of whom were anxious to see this rare and singular
creature. Ropes were soon attached to the legs, and Guapo, assisted by
Don Pablo and Leon, drew the huge carcass out upon the shore; and
dragged it up to the house.
Guapo at once skinned it, carefully preserving the hide to make soles
for his sandals and other purposes; and that night all of them tried a
"tapir-steak" for supper. All, however, Guapo alone excepted, preferred
the flesh of the purple macaws, which, cooked as they were with onions
and red pepper, were excellent eating, particularly for Spanish-American
palates. Guapo had all the tapir to himself.
The bamboo palm-house was now quite finished, and several articles of
furniture too--for during the nights both Don Pablo and his trusty man
Guapo had worked at many things. You will, no doubt, be asking where
they procured lights,--will you not? I shall tell you. One of the
loftiest and most beautiful of the palm-trees--_the wax-palm_--grew in
these very parts, for the lower slopes of the Andes are its favourite
habitat. Out of its trunk exudes wax, which has only to be scraped off
and made into candles, that burn as well as those made of the wax of
bees. Indeed, the missionaries, in their various religious ceremonies,
have always made large use of these palm-candles.
Another "wax-palm," called "Carnáuba," is found in South America. In
this one, the wax--of a pure white colour, and without any admixture of
resin--collects upon the under-side of the leaves, and can be had in
large quantities by merely stripping it off. But even, had neither of
these palms been found, they needed not to have gone without lights, for
the fruits of the "patawa," already described, when submitted to
pressure, yield a pure liquid oil, without any disagreeable smell, and
most excellent for burning in lamps. So, you see, there was no lack of
light in the cheerful cottage.
But there were two things, you will say, still wanting--one of them a
necessary article, and the other almost so--and which could not possibly
be procured in such a place. These two things were _salt_ and _milk_.
Now there was neither a salt-mine, nor a lake, nor a drop of salt water,
nor yet either cow, goat, or ass, within scores of miles of the place,
and still they had both salt and milk!
The milk they procured from a tree which grew in the woods close by, and
a tree so singular and celebrated, that you have no doubt heard of it
before now. It was the _palo de vaca_, or "cow-tree," called sometimes
by an equally appropriate name _arbol del leche_, or "milk-tree." It is
one of the noblest trees of the forest, rising, with its tall straight
stem, to a great height, and adorned with large oblong pointed leaves,
some of which are nearly a foot in length. It carries fruit which is
eatable, about the size of a peach, and containing one or two stones;
and the wood itself is valuable, being hard, fine-grained, and durable.
But it is the sap which gives celebrity to the tree. This is neither
more nor less than milk of a thick creamy kind, and most agreeable in
flavour. Indeed, there are many persons who prefer it to the milk of
cows, and it has been proved to be equally nutritious, the people
fattening upon it in districts where it grows. It is collected, as the
sugar-water is from the maple, simply by making a notch or incision in
the bark, and placing a vessel underneath, into which the sap runs
abundantly. It runs most freely at the hour of sunrise; and this is also
true as regards the sap of the sugar-tree, and many other trees of that
kind.
Sometimes it is drunk pure as it flows from the tree; but there are some
people who, not relishing it in its thick gummy state, dilute it with
water, and strain it before using it. It is excellent for tea or coffee,
quite equal to the best cream, and of a richer colour. When left to
stand in an open vessel, a thick coagulum forms on the top, which the
natives term cheese, and which they eat in a similar manner, and with
equal relish. Another virtue of this extraordinary tree is that the
cream, without any preparation, makes a glue for all purposes as good as
that used by cabinet-makers, and, indeed, Don Pablo and Guapo had
already availed themselves of it in this way.
So much for the _palo de vaca_.
It still remains for me to tell you where the _salt_ came from; and
although the milk-tree was ever so welcome, yet the salt was a thing of
still greater necessity. Indeed, the latter might be looked upon as an
indispensable article in household economy. You, my young reader, know
not what it is to be without salt. With whole sacks of this beautiful
mineral within your reach, almost as cheap as sand, you cannot fancy the
longing--the absolute craving--for it, which they feel who are for a
period deprived of it.
Even the wild animals will make long journeys in search of those
salt-springs--or, as they are called, "licks"--which exist in many
places in the wilderness of America. For salt, Don Pablo and his
companions would have exchanged anything they had,--their sugar,
plantains, cocoa, coffee, or even the cassava, which was their bread.
They longed for salt, and knew not how they could get on without it. The
only substitute was the "aji," or capsicum, of which several species
grew around, and almost every dish they ate was strongly spiced with it.
But still this was not salt, and they were not contented with it.
It was now that they found a friend in Guapo. Guapo knew that among many
of the Indian tribes the fruit of a certain species of palm was
manufactured into salt; and he knew the palm, too, if he could only get
his eyes upon it. Seeing his master and the rest so troubled upon this
head, Guapo rose one morning early and stole off among the groves of
palm, on the other side of the river. There, in a marshy place, with its
roots even growing in the water, stood the very tree,--a small palm of
about four inches in diameter and twenty to thirty feet high. It was
thicker at the base than the top, and the top itself rose several feet
above the tuft of pinnate, feathery fronds, ending in a pointed spike.
It was the "jara" palm, of the genus _Leopoldinia_.
It was the fruits upon which Guapo bent his eyes with earnestness. Each
one was as large as a peach, of an oval shape, slightly flattened, and
of a yellowish green colour. They grew in large clusters among the bases
of the leaves; and Guapo was not long in ascending several trees--for
the jara is a smooth-skinned palm, and can be climbed--and breaking off
the spadices, and flinging them to the ground. He had soon collected a
bag-full, with which he hurried back to the house.
All wondered what Guapo meant to do with these fruits, for they tasted
them and found them very bitter. Guapo soon showed them his intention.
Having prepared a sort of furnace, he set the nuts on fire; and when
they were thoroughly reduced to ashes, to the great joy and astonishment
of all, these ashes, which were as white as flour, had the taste of
salt! It is true it was not equal to "Turk's Island," nor yet to "Bay"
salt, but it proved to be good enough for cooking purposes, and
satisfied the craving which all had felt for this indispensable article.