The Indians have roots, which some of our gentlemen call sweet potatoes,
which are by no means unpleasant to the taste, the only difficulty being
that we cannot get any great quantity of them. Our master declares that
when we make a garden, this root shall be the first thing planted, and
after it has ripened, we will have some cooked every day.
Nathaniel and I have no trouble in preparing the root, for it may be
roasted in the ashes, boiled into a pudding which should be well salted,
or mixed with the meal of Indian corn and made into a kind of sweet
cake.
However, we lads have not had good success in baking this last dish,
because of the ashes which fly out of the fire when the wind blows ever
so slightly. Captain Smith declares that he would rather have the ashes
without the meal and sweet potato, if indeed he must eat any, but of
course when he speaks thus, it is only in the way of making sport.
Captain Kendall, who, because he has made two voyages to the Indies,
believes himself a wondrously wise man, says that he who eats sweet
potatoes at least once each day will not live above seven years, and
he who eats them twice every day will become blind, after which all his
teeth will drop out.
Because of this prediction, many of our gentlemen are not willing even
so much as to taste of the root, but Captain Smith says that wise men
may grow fat where fools starve, therefore he gathers up all the
sweet potatoes which the others have thrown away, for they please him
exceeding well.