“We have wine trees on our island, Miss Millward, and I have been tapping them, as you will see,” pointing to the suspended gourds, some of which could be seen from the porch where we sat in the shade. I then explained to her the whole process, and my purpose in making the wine. I showed her the pan of boiling sap, and she at once undertook to attend to the treacle-making. That evening at supper I opened the bottle which I had filled, and the cork flew out with a report like a pistol, the wine bubbling and frothing like champagne. This the invalid drank alone. The sap left in the open gourd turned quite sour, like vinegar; but I did not have any use for it in that condition and so poured it out. The result of the boiling was about a pint of thick, dark-colored sweet syrup, or treacle, of a rather pleasant taste. By carrying the boiling still farther it could of course be reduced to the condition of the sugar called jaggery. But it was more convenient for use in its treacly state.
The unusual and remarkable rapidity of the fermentative change in this palm-sap had the attendant inconvenience that it would require to be gathered fresh every day, if used for wine. I therefore concluded that I would make a still and distil a brandy from the fermented sap, which I could subsequently use as a check to the fermentation in the wine, after the manner that port-wine, sherry, Madeira, and other similar wines are prepared. I took a large earthen jar which would hold three or four gallons, and luted to the mouth of it with clay a gourd cut with an opening to correspond with the jar mouth. I then procured a long, straight cane about three inches in diameter at the butt, tapering in a length of twenty feet to less than an inch. I split this cane throughout the whole length and cut away the septum or partition which occurs at each joint. I then joined the two split halves together, pitched the joint, and wound the whole length with cord to hold it solid, and afterwards wound over all a grass rope of rather loose texture. In the neck of the gourd I inserted the butt of this cane tube and luted the joint with clay, but so that it could be removed. The cane tube led away in a nearly horizontal direction, having a slight fall from the gourd outward.
I now collected palm-sap enough to fill the jar, and when it had undergone a full fermentation, and just before it turned sour, I set it on in the still to boil over a fire. The gourd and tube were in place and the joints well luted. Then as soon as the fermented sap began to boil and throw off vapor, I wet the grass rope that surrounded the tube, and set a vessel to receive what came dripping from the end of the tube in drops. Very soon the brandy began to come over in a warm, thin, trickling stream. When I had collected a little over a quart I stopped the process for fear of getting some other product over. It was good, strong brandy, and had no disagreeable flavor, being quite clear, with a slight yellow tint.
I had now what I needed for my wine-making, and made use of it in the following manner: I collected a fresh supply of the sap and permitted fermentation to proceed in it until it was, as I thought, at the precise point where it had the best sub-acid flavor. I then added some of the palm syrup to sweeten it a little, and also enough of the brandy—about half a pint to the gallon—to stop the further fermentation. The wine so prepared had a rough resemblance to port. It was quite pleasant to the taste, and would keep any length of time. Having now a supply of about two gallons I made no more, as there was enough for the invalid, and nobody else needed it, or cared particularly for it.
CHAPTER XII.
THE PROBLEM.
DAY by day the old man slowly improved in condition until at the end of three weeks he was able to sit in the armchair with comfort. He startled us one morning by uttering his daughter’s name, and little by little recovered the use of his tongue. He was not yet able to stand or walk, and it was still doubtful whether he would recover the use of his lower limbs. I felt reasonably confident, however, that he would do so ultimately.
As soon as he could talk, almost his first words were a request to me to get the Jamaican sailor’s chest from the boat and use the clothing for myself. I was glad enough to do this, as almost any sort of change was acceptable. I found in the chest a number of good shirts, both woollen and cotton, a good, serviceable suit of dark tweed, and two complete suits of white duck; also socks and underwear, and a good straw hat. These things fitted me very well, but a pair of dancing pumps were so small that I could not get them on my feet; however, my own shoes were still very good. The kind-hearted old man then said that if I wished it he would cut my hair; he thought he could use his daughter’s scissors well enough. But I did not fancy having him clipping about my ears with uncertain fingers, and resolutely declined. My hair, which now reached to my shoulders, was as long as it was likely to grow. The ends, exposed freely, would naturally wear and fray away as fast as it grew, and I concluded to let it go as it was until I reached civilization.
Thinking about my plans one day, it occurred to me that it would not be a bad idea to plant a garden for use when I should return to the island. Potatoes and yams, and fresh green corn would not be a bad provision to have ready at hand in plenty while working at the sunken galleon. There was a patch of good, rich soil near the creek, now covered with dry grass, beneath which the new grass had sprung since the rains. By burning it over the ground might be readily cleared for a couple of acres in extent. I put fire to it at several places on the windward side and it was soon black and bare. I began at once with the shovel to break up the soil in spots, and to make hills for the potatoes and yams, and to form a place in which to plant the corn. With the hoe I could subsequently go over the ground between the hills and cut up the grass when it started. After I had been working a couple of days at this severe labor, Mr. Millward asked me why I thought it necessary to prepare to plant so extensively, as we should soon be leaving the island.
“I shall be well enough in a week or two longer to go. You are making provision there as though you expected we were all to remain here for six months longer,” said he.
I looked at him a moment before answering, debating with myself what reply to make. At last I said, “Mr. Millward, I expect to return to this island after we have reached Martinique.”