With various fruits, and sometimes forest game,
All season'd with hot, pungent, fiery peppers.
Sauces and seasonings too, and drinks they have,
Made from the mandiocca's poisonous juice;
And but one foreign luxury, which is salt.
Salt here is money: daily they bring to me
Cassava cakes, or fish, or ripe bananas,
Or birds or insects, fowls or turtles' eggs,
And still they ask for salt. Two teacups-full
Buy a large basket of cassava cakes,