"Ugh! it has a nasty, disagreeable, bitter flavor," said the speaker, licking his finger after he had stuck it down into the pot. "It smells so badly that it makes me feel sick," he continued, spitting it out quickly.
"Here comes an old woman with some nuts from the palm tree she has been shaking in her hands. Let us ask her what this stuff is good for."
But the old woman evidently did not have a very good opinion of white men, and would not speak to them at all.
"We can watch her," they said, "and see whether she intends to eat it."
She paid no attention to them, but went on making a fire out of the palm nuts and some dry leaves, and as soon as they blazed brightly she set the little pot near the fire and began stirring the milk with a wooden paddle she carried in her hand. As soon as the blaze smouldered, she held the paddle over it until the milk began to get thick. Then she dipped it back into the pot and repeated the process until there was enough coating to scrape off and make a flat cake.
"Will you please give me the biscuit?" inquired one of the bystanders. Without a word the old woman threw it at him, and when he caught it in his hands, he exclaimed:
"It is India rubber! Now we can have a game of ball!" As it was still warm he rounded it into shape with his hands, and then he and his companions amused themselves for quite a while throwing the ball against the trees and catching it as it bounded back. While they were engaged in this sport the cooks were preparing them something to eat, but the forest was full of monkeys swinging themselves from one tree to another by their long tails and seemingly very much interested in what the men underneath them were doing.