On the sea-coasts, however, where the cocoa-nut palm grows, the fibre of the husk is the principal material for bedding. These fibres lie so parallel to each other on the surface of the cocoa-nut, that they are easily stripped off, fastened together, and formed into mats of any shape or thickness. One of these mats is shown on the right hand of the illustration, and the reader will see how simple is its manufacture.
Owing to the ease with which it is made into a fabric, the cocoa-nut fibre was in great use as armour before the bullet set all armour at defiance. It will be remembered that when Captain Cook was murdered, he committed the mistake of firing a charge of small shot instead of a bullet, and the fact that the cocoa-nut mat carried by the man at whom he fired resisted the shot, encouraged the natives to attack and murder him.
Even the cocoa-nut mat has its precursor in Nature.
There is a certain Crab inhabiting the cocoa-nut bearing parts of the world, which not only makes itself a bed from the fibre, but supplies it to mankind.
This wonderful Crab has the power of ascending the cocoa-nut palms, which is beyond the power of any man except a trained gymnast. It picks out the ripest fruits, and with its powerful claws tears off the fibre before breaking the shell and devouring the kernel, as is shown in the left-hand figure of the illustration.
After eating the kernel, which is at that time a soft, creamy substance, quite unlike the hard, indigestible material which we in England know by the name of cocoa-nut, the Crab carries off the external fibres into its den, and there makes its bed of them. So great, indeed, is the amount of cocoa-nut fibre thus collected that the natives are accustomed to save themselves the trouble of climbing the trees, and merely search for the holes in which these Crabs have made their nests, knowing the amount of ready-gathered cocoa-nut fibre that is always to be found in them.
Another modification of the bed needs a short notice, especially as I have practical and sad experience on the subject.
It is technically named the “cradle,” and is used to keep the bedclothes from pressing on a damaged limb.
When a mere lad I contrived, at cricket, to dislocate the right ankle, and break the bone. An ignorant surgeon refused my request for a cradle, and absolutely tied the cover of a book to the sole of the foot. Of course this appliance was worse than useless. It acted as a lever, allowing the clothes to turn the foot round, and to the present day the right foot has never recovered its faculties. Had the simple “cradle” been used—i.e. a few sticks bent into an arch-like shape, and tied together, so as to keep the clothes from even touching the foot—all would have been right.