Accustomed as were my companions to wild and savage life, they seemed to enjoy the danger and the seclusion in which we found ourselves. It gave them an opportunity to display their skill and resources, and they really assumed toward me an air of complacent patronage, something like that of a city habitué toward his country cousin, when showing to him the marvels of the metropolis.
One of Antonio’s earliest exploits, after our resolution to stop had been taken, was to cut down a number of the rough-looking palm-trees. In the trunks of these, near their tops, where the leaves sprang out, he carefully chiseled a hole, cutting completely through the pulp of the tree, to the outer, or woody shell. This hole was again covered with the piece of rind, which had first been removed, as with a lid. I watched the operation curiously, but asked no questions. In the course of the afternoon, however, he took off one of these covers, and disclosed to me the cavity filled with a frothy liquid, of the faintest straw tinge, looking like delicate Sauterne wine. He presented me with a piece of reed, and with a gratified air motioned me to drink. My early experiments with straws, in the cider-barrels of New England, recurred to me at once, and I laughed to think that I had come to repeat them under the tropics. I found the juice sweet, and slightly pungent, but altogether rich, delicious, and invigorating. As may be supposed, I paid frequent visits to Antonio’s reservoirs.
This palm bears the name of coyol among the Spaniards, and of cockatruce among the Mosquitos. Its juice is called by the former Vino de Coyol, and by the Indians generally Chicha (cheechee)—a name, however, which is applied to a variety of drinks. When the tree is cut down, the end is plastered with mud, to prevent the juice, with which the core is saturated, from exuding. A hole is then cut near the top, as I have described, in which the liquid is gradually distilled, filling the reservoir in the course of ten or twelve hours. This reservoir may be emptied daily, and yet be constantly replenished, it is said, for upward of a month. On the third day, if the tree be exposed to the sun, the juice begins to ferment, and gradually grows stronger, until, at the end of a couple of weeks, it becomes intoxicating—thus affording to the Sambos a ready means of getting up the “big drunk.” The Spaniards affirm that the “vino de coyol” is a specific for indigestion and pains in the stomach.
The nuts of this variety of palm grow in large clusters. They are round, containing a very solid kernel, so saturated with oil as to resemble refined wax. It is in all respects superior to the ordinary cocoa-nut oil, and might be obtained in any desirable quantity, if means could be devised for separating the kernel from the shell. This shell is thick, hard, black, capable of receiving the minutest carving, and most brilliant polish, and is often worked into ornaments by the Indians.
In the moist depressions, or valleys, near our encampment, we also found another variety of palm, which often stands the traveler, under the tropics, in good stead, as a substitute for other and better vegetable food. I mean the Palmetto Royal, or Mountain Cabbage (Areca oleracea), which has justly been called the “Queen of the Forest.” It grows to a great height, frequently no thicker than a man’s thigh, yet rising upward of a hundred and fifty feet in the air. No other tree in the world equals it in height or beauty. The trunk swells moderately a short distance above the root, whence it tapers gently to its emerald crown, sustaining throughout the most elegant proportions.
PALMETTO ROYAL.
The edible part, or “cabbage” (as it is called, from some fancied resemblance in taste to that vegetable), constitutes the upper part of the trunk, whence the foliage springs. It resembles a tall Etruscan vase in shape, of the liveliest green color, gently swelling from its pedestal, and diminishing gradually to the top, where it expands in plume-like branches. From the very centre of this natural vase rises a tall, yellowish spatha, or sheath, terminating in a sharp point. At the bottom of this, and inclosed in the natural vase which I have described, is found a tender white core, or heart, varying in size with the dimensions of the tree, but usually eight or ten inches in circumference. This may be eaten raw, as a salad, or, if preferred, fried or boiled. In taste it resembles an artichoke, rather than a cabbage.
The Indians climb this palm, and, dexterously inserting their knives, contrive to obtain the edible part without destroying the tree itself. By means of the same contrivance which he made use of in obtaining the cocoa-nuts, on the island in Pearl Cay Lagoon, Antonio kept us supplied with palm cabbages, which were our chief reliance, in the vegetable line. I found that they were most palatable when properly seasoned, and baked in the ground, with some strips of manitee fat, after the manner which I have already described.