EVERY one thinks of China when birds’-nest soup is mentioned—it seems so naturally to belong with stewed snails, fricasseed rats, and other delicacies of that sort; and the Chinese are very large consumers of this strange dish, but they are not the only ones.
The nests from which the soup is made are found in Borneo, Java, and other warm regions, and are the dwelling-houses of the edible or esculent swallow. They are not made, like other nests, of moss, leaves, and twigs, as not much soup could be extracted from such things, but the substance is like gelatine, and is thought to proceed from the body of the bird—just as the web does from that of the spider, or the cocoon from the silk-worm.
When the swallows’ houses are new and fresh they are snowy white, and so delicate and pretty, that they look quite good enough to eat. This is the kind that the Chinese are extravagantly fond of, and they pay enormous prices for them. But the sun and wind soon darken them, and a family of swallows at housekeeping do not keep them in very nice order; so that, before they are fit for soup, they have to be cleaned and bleached.
The airy swallows, who do not think anything of precipices, and never trouble their heads about the soup business, build their nests in such dangerous caves, often hanging directly over the sea, that the people who gather them do it at the risk of their lives; and this makes birds’-nest soup a very expensive dish. The nests are very clear and beautiful, and so transparent that, when held to the light, pictures placed on the other side can be seen through them. Some of them are shaped like clam and oyster shells, and much thicker at the end that is fastened to the rock.
The outside is in layers; but the inside shows the glutinous threads of which they are made, and which exposure to the air has made as hard as isinglass. These nests are so shallow, that they do not seem capable of holding either birds or eggs, one of them measuring only two inches in length, one and three quarters in breadth, and half an inch in depth. It is said, however, that the building of one nest will keep a pair of swallows hard at work for two months; it is well, therefore, that the little laborers do not know that they are not building houses but soup.
There are four different kinds of swallows that make these gelatinous nests; and the opening to the cave where they are built is always taken possession of by a swallow that mixes moss with the gelatine, and tries to drive the soup swallow away. But they fight sturdily for their beloved caves, and even attempt to knock down the mixed nests with stones.
The people of Borneo, where these nests are found in the greatest quantities, have many singular stories about their origin; and perhaps the most interesting of these is the account of the hungry little boy to whom no one would give anything to eat.
This little boy was taken by his father from one Dyak village to another, called Si-Lébor; and as the journey was long, they arrived tired and hungry. It was a large village, with plenty of Dyaks in it; and the chief of the tribe brought refreshments for the father, but gave the poor child nothing. The dishes must have been served in hotel fashion, just enough for one; for it did not take the poor little traveler long to see that he was to go hungry. The narrative says that “he felt much hurt;” which he undoubtedly did, and began to cry.
Instead, however, of appealing to his selfish father for a share of the viands, he made quite a little speech to the chief and his followers:—
“To my father,” said he, “you have given food, the prīok of rice is before him, the fatted pig has been killed—everything you have given him. Why do you give me nothing?”