This the mother willingly undertook to do, but she evidently had not much faith in my powers as a baker, and I saw her set on a good potful of potatoes before beginning to work, as though to make sure of a meal without depending on my bread.
Spreading a piece of sailcloth on the ground, I summoned my boys to set to work. Each took a grater and a supply of well-washed manioc root, and when all were seated round the cloth—"Once, twice, thrice! Off!" cried I, beginning to rub a root as hard as I could against the rough surface of my grater. My example was instantly followed by the whole party, amid bursts of merriment, as each remarked the funny attitude and odd gestures of his neighbors while vehemently rubbing, rasping, grating, and grinding down the roots allotted to him. No one was tempted by the look of the flour to stop and taste it, for in truth it looked much like wet sawdust.
"Cassava bread is highly esteemed in many parts of the New World, and I have even heard that some Europeans there prefer it to the wheaten bread of their own country. There are various species of manioc. One sort grows quickly, and its roots ripen in a very short time. Another kind is of somewhat slower growth. The roots of the third kind do not come to maturity for two years. The two first are poisonous, if eaten raw, yet they are preferred to the third, which is harmless, because they are so much more fruitful, and the flour produced is excellent, if the scrapings are carefully pressed."
"What is the good of pressing them, father?" inquired Ernest.
"It is in order to express the sap, which contains the poison. The dry pith is wholesome and nourishing. Still, I do not mean to taste my cakes, until I have tried their effect on our fowls and the ape."
By this time our supply of roots being reduced to damp powder, the canvas bag was filled with it, and tying it tightly up, I attempted to squeeze it, but soon found that mechanical aid was necessary in order to express the moisture. My arrangements for this purpose were as follows: A strong, straight beam was made flat on one side, smooth planks were laid across two of the lower roots of our tree; on these we placed the sack, above the sack another plank, and over that the long beam; one end was passed under a root near the sack, the other projected far forward. And to that we attached all the heaviest weights we could think of, such as an anvil, iron bars, and masses of lead. The consequent pressure on the bag was enormous, and the sap flowed from it to the ground.
"Will this stuff keep any time?" inquired my wife, who came to see how we were getting on. "Or must all this great bagful be used at once? In that case we shall have to spend the whole of to-morrow in baking cakes."
"Not at all," I replied; "once dry, the flour in barrels will keep fresh a long time. We shall use a great deal of this, however, as you shall see."
"Do you think we might begin now, father?" said Fritz. "There does not seem the least moisture remaining."
"Certainly," said I. "But I shall only make one cake to-day for an experiment; we must see how it agrees with Master Knips and the hens before we set up a bakehouse in regular style."