JACK'S DISCOVERY.
The harvest of seeds from which Ned and Jack were to draw their
supplies, was found in an abandoned field, half a mile from the camp.
Here various wild grasses and weeds grew in rank profusion, and had
already ripened in the sun. Some yielded seeds so small and so few in
number that it was a waste of time to thresh them; others were richer in
larger seeds; while many of the weeds, particularly, gave a profuse
supply of seeds almost as large as grains of wheat, but these were
mostly worthless.
Ned was the recognized "scientist" of the party, and upon him devolved
the task and responsibility of determining what kinds of seed to gather
and what to leave. He was familiar with the ordinary plants of the
country, and knew which of them were poisonous. It remained only to
determine whether or not a seed, known to be harmless, was of any value
as food, and Ned's method of doing this was very simple. He bit the seed
to discover what he could about its flavor and general character in that
way; then he split a seed and inspected it. If it seemed to consist
principally of starch, gluten, and fruity matter, he accepted that kind
of seed; if it appeared dry, hard, and black upon the inside, he deemed
it unworthy.
Passing the point at which he had gathered seeds on the day before, Ned
selected a good spot for a threshing-floor, and said:
"Now, Jack, I'll clear a space here and get ready for threshing; we'll
get on faster in that way. You go off out there and gather grasses.
Pretty soon I'll join you, and when we get a supply, we'll thresh
awhile."
With this the boys separated. Ned worked diligently at his clearing, and
Jack brought in armfuls of grass.
After awhile Ned finished his task and began to wonder what had became
of Jack, who had been absent for a considerable time. He called, but
Jack did not answer. Thinking nothing of the matter he went on with the
work of gathering grass. Still Jack did not return, and after an hour
had passed Ned became positively uneasy. He again called aloud, and Jack
answered, but his voice came from a considerable distance.
Continuing his work Ned waited, and after awhile he heard Jack coming
through a briar thicket, muttering complaints of some sort with a good
deal of vigor.
"What's the matter, old fellow?" he asked.
"Matter enough," answered Jack, from the depths of the briar patch in
which he was completely hidden; "I'm torn to pieces by the briars, and
by the time I get to you I shan't have enough skin left on me to serve
for patches."
"Nonsense!" said Ned; "shield your face with your arm and break right
through. Your clothes are thick and stout."
"Yes," answered Jack, "so they are; but I haven't got them on."
Ned leaped to his feet, for he had been kneeling to arrange the grass
for threshing. He remembered how rapidly he and his companions had been
reduced in their possessions, until now they were boatless, bootless,
hatless, and without regular supplies of food; and so when Jack declared
that he had no clothes on, Ned at once imagined that some new calamity
had befallen him.
"What!" he exclaimed. "No clothes! Why, we'll be naked savages before
another week is out."
"I didn't say I had no clothes," answered Jack, still picking his way
carefully through the briars. "I only said I had no clothes on, or at
least none to speak of."
"Well, then, you must be out of your head," answered Ned. "Why don't you
put them on?"
"Because I can't till we get to camp," and with that Jack made a final
leap into the open space and stood before his astonished companion. He
presented a queer appearance. For clothing he had on only his drawers
and a thin undershirt. These were torn and stained with blood from many
scratches. Jack's face, too, was a good deal scratched, but there was a
triumphant look in his eyes which made Ned forget to look at the briar
wounds. Jack's trowsers, tied at bottom and stuffed full of some heavy
material, sat astride his neck, looking for all the world like the
lower half of a very fat boy. His shirt, also well filled, was carried
in one hand, while his coat, made into a bundle and likewise filled, was
held in the other.
"What in the name of common-sense have you been stuffing your clothes
with, Jack?" asked Ned in astonishment.
"Grass seed," answered Jack, throwing his burden on the ground.
"Not much," said Ned; "why it would take both of us a month to gather
and thresh out that quantity."
"I thought you scientific people always recognized one fact as worth
more than any number of 'must be's'; here I have the facts--a
trowsers-full, a shirt-full, and a coat-full,--and yet you argue about
what must be and what can't be."
"I admit the trowsers and the shirt and the coat, and I see that they
are full," said Ned; "I only doubt the character of their contents. I
don't believe you could have gathered such a quantity of grass seed
within so short a time."
"Not of the kind that grows here, but mine are not of that kind."
"Let me look at them," said Ned.
"Not till we get to camp; I can't open the bags without spilling a lot."
"Well, tell me about it then."
"Well, I was gathering grasses over there by those tall trees, when I
happened to look away toward the south. There I saw, about half a mile
away, what looked like a patch of ripe wheat or oats. There were two or
three acres of it down in a sort of marsh, so I went over there to see
what it was. I found the little marsh covered thickly with a tall grass
somewhat like oats, and all had gone to seed. The seeds are about the
size of grains of wheat, but rather longer, and each grain, when
threshed out, is covered with a brown husk that clings closely to the
body of the grain. The seeds themselves are starchy, glutinous, and, if
I am not mistaken, excellent food. It was too far to call you, so I made
up my mind I would thresh some of the grass and bring away what I could
of the result. I filled my shirt, coat, and trowsers, and I should have
used my drawers in the same way if I could have carried any more. As it
is, I've a big load."
"I should say so," answered Ned, "and a mighty good load, too, if I'm
not mistaken."
"Why, what do you suppose it is?"
"Grass seed," answered Ned, "of the kind that we call _rice_."
"But how did it come there?" asked Jack. "Does rice grow wild?"
"Yes, sometimes. When a rice field is allowed to stand too long before
cutting, the grain drops out of the heads, of course, and the next year
a fair volunteer crop comes up. In this case, I suppose, the explanation
is simple. When the island was abandoned during the war, there was
probably a growing crop of rice in that little swamp. If so, it went to
seed, and not being harvested, the seed fell to the ground, coming up
again the next year only to repeat the process year after year. That's
my explanation at any rate, and the only one I can think of. But come!
let's go to camp. It isn't worth while now to fool away time over this
grass. Now that you have found a rice field, we'll eat rice instead, and
some day soon we'll go there and bring back enough to last us till we
leave the island."
Upon their arrival at camp the contents of Jack's clothes proved to be,
as Ned had conjectured, rough rice; that is to say, rice from which the
outer husks have been removed, leaving only the closely clinging inner
husk on the grain. The amount secured was sufficient to last the boys
for a considerable time, and in the absence of bread, it was a thing of
no little moment to them.