A Boy Crusoe; or, The Golden Treasure of the Virgin Islands

by Allan Eric

A Feathered Companion; Making a Fish-Trap.

Everything about my house was as I had left it. Nothing had been disturbed, the overflowing stream not having reached it. The vines around the stockade now completely covered it, and the yams that I had planted in front of the stockade-gate were thick and luxuriant, the great, bean-like leaves completely concealing the entrance.

The effects of the fever were fast leaving me, and I grew strong rapidly. There was much to do, now that I was settled down at home. I dug up the yams in front of the stockade-gate and stored them in the house for future use. Then I carried out the couch and made a new one of fresh branches and grass, more comfortable than the first had been.

I also made two fire-places, mere enclosures for keeping the coals in place. These consisted of circular enclosures of stones brought from the stream, each about three feet in diameter and one foot high, one being in a corner of the house for use during rainy weather, and the other in the enclosure of the stockade, near the gate.

My next thought was to plant yams by the trunks of all the trees near the house. This would furnish me an inexhaustible supply, and of a superior quality, as the vines would have plenty of chance to climb, up and around the tree trunks.

One day while walking through the bush in search of pigeons, having succeeded in killing two, I came across several cocoanut palms of much smaller size than any I had yet seen. They were not more than fifteen feet high to the base of the leaf heads, and their tops were very spreading, much more so in proportion to the length of the trunks than in the case of the larger trees. But these all bore great bunches of nuts, and I began to wonder how the unripe nuts would taste, and whether they contained more water than the ripe ones.

With but little difficulty I climbed one of them, and with my knife clipped the stems of several of the nuts, which went tumbling to the ground.

Descending, I cut off the husk of the end opposite the stem, until I could make a hole through the shell. The latter was very thin and soft, and the knife went through it easily. My knife was always in excellent condition, kept so by frequent sharpening on the stone which I used for striking fire to the tinder.

Raising the nut as though it were a canteen, I drank the water. It was somewhat different from that of a ripe nut, much sweeter, more limpid and very cool and refreshing. After the water was drained from the nut I out it open, when I found the whole inside lined with a whitish, translucent pulp, of the consistency of solid jelly. This I found to be delicious, but, after having eaten a little, rather sickish. However, I carried several of the unripe nuts to the house, and soon became very fond of them. I made frequent trips to the young palms and the water became my principal beverage, while my only dessert was the jelly, for which I carved a rude spoon from a piece of hard wood.

I noticed that the parrots were not so noisy as they had been before I left for the interior, and for several weeks I was at a loss to account for it. But one evening, while returning from the water-cocoanut palms, I espied two diminutive parrots fluttering through the bush. They were young ones and not quite able to fly, though nearly fledged. They would launch out from a limb, sometimes falling short of their next perch, and sometimes striking against a limb, when they would flutter to the ground, making small, parrot-like cries. They were a beautiful green, with red wing feathers and red breasts and necks. The parent birds all the while remained near-by, as though encouraging the little ones in their attempts to fly.