If Rob’s spirits had not been so low he would have been amused by the boyish manner of their companion as he led them here and there. At the edge of the forest he mounted and climbed about a tree till he was well out on a great branch, from which he shook down a shower of great fruit that looked like cricket-balls, but which on examination proved to be the hard husks of some kind of nut.
“What are these?” cried Rob.
“Don’t you know ’em?” said Shaddy as soon as he had descended.
“No.”
“Yes, you do, my lad. You’ve seen ’em in London lots of times,” and hammering a couple together, he broke open one and showed the contents: to wit, so many Brazil nuts packed together in a round form like the carpels of an orange.
“I never knew they grew like that,” cried Rob eagerly.
“And I must confess my ignorance, too,” said Brazier.
“Ah, there’s lots to learn in this world, gen’lemen,” said Shaddy quietly. “Not a very good kind o’ nut, but better than nothing. Bit too oily for me, but they’ll serve as bread for our fish if we get a couple of big stones for nutcrackers. They’re precious hard.”
“Then we shan’t starve yet,” cried Rob as he loaded himself with the cannon-ball-like fruit—pockets, cap, and as many as he could hold in his arms.
“Starve? I should think not,” cried Shaddy, “and these here outsides’ll have to serve for teacups.”