Of the shrub aguaribaỹ, which is likewise thought to be a species of mastic, a balsam of much service in cleansing and healing wounds is made. Taken inwardly it greatly conduces to stop flowing of the blood, and allay coughs.
THE MOLLE.
The molle, a tree of no obscure name, furnishes solid wood for building, but liable to be moth-eaten. It is adorned with leaves, like those of a laurel, which, when bruised, serve for dressing goats'-skins, and for medicinal purposes. The trunk distils a quantity of very fragrant gum, which is burnt instead of frankincense. It bears fruit of a black colour, the rind of which, when unripe, is of a pale blue. This fruit is boiled in water, and, being sweeter than the alfaroba, makes a sharp and sweet syrup, which, mixed with water, affords a pleasant, but powerful drink. This liquor imparts a sort of ferocity to the eyes of persons intoxicated with it, which continues two days. Physicians use both the boughs and the rosin of this tree for various medicinal purposes.
THE BACOBA and BANANÀ.
The fruits bacoba and bananà, which the Indians delight greatly in, belong to the fig species. They are oval-shaped, and of a red colour. The shrubs which produce them have neither seed, nor boughs, but are adorned with long, wide, and beautifully green leaves, from the midst of which the germen and the fruit emerge. The trunk or stalk of these shrubs is slender and fragile. They die after bearing fruit once, but are compensated for by suckers which grow from their roots. The fruit of the bananà is rather long, and square in form, with a saffron-coloured skin, a soft pulp, and not a very rich, but rather cold juice, which, unless quite ripe, is injurious to the stomach. The bacoba is, therefore, more wholesome than the bananà; both fruits, however, when properly used, are remedies for various complaints. A liquor expressed from them causes intoxication when taken in excess. Both trees, though they grow in very sterile soils, bear fruit all the year round.
THE ANANÀS, OR PIÑA DEL PARAGUAY.
The anana is called by the native Spaniards piña del Paraguay, from a sort of resemblance to the nuts of the pine, and from its being very abundant in the north of Paraguay. I observed that those of Paraguay were larger than those of Europe, but not so sweet. The juice of the former is as pleasant as that of strawberries to the taste; but, unless perfectly ripe, sharp and caustic; on which account this fruit, when cut into stocks, according to its length, must first be macerated in rich wine. The liquor of it, when expressed by the aid of fire, removes languor from the mind, and nausea from the stomach, relieves dysury, and nephritic pains, and restores the natural heat to the aged. Some preserve ananàs in sugar. Each plant yearly produces one fruit, and becoming exhausted, gradually dies away; whilst, in its place, a little plant, taken from the crown of the ripe fruit, is placed in the ground, and next year bears fruit. This also is the case when it grows wild without cultivation; for the new germ falls from the top of the plant, and takes root.
THE MANDIOC.
The mandioc is the root of the little plant mandiò, which is about the height of a middle-sized man. It is supported by a very straight, slender trunk, the thickness of a man's thumb, knotty like a reed, with bark resembling that of a hazle, and pith, spungy, like the elder's, and full of milk. At the top it is crowned with branches and little boughs, with elegant, long, narrow leaves, of a beautiful green colour. The flowers are yellow. The want of fruit is compensated by the roots, which are sometimes three feet long, fragile, thicker than a man's arm, and covered with a dusky skin like the bark of a hazle. Their very white pith is full of a milky, glutinous, and poisonous liquid. As in the cinnamon shrub the bark is alone made use of; so in the mandiò, the root is the only serviceable part. The Americans are acquainted with more than twenty species of this tree, differing in form and virtues. The mandiò bears seed not unlike that of the piñon del Paraguay; but it is quite useless in propagating the plant, for which purpose the trunk or stalk of the shrub is cut into stocks, about a span long, three of which are always stuck into heaps of mould, so that they project about the length of a span from the surface of the earth. In a short time they take root, put out leaves, and grow up. Neither do they require to be watered, for this plant detests moisture and shade, and loves dry soils, and sunny situations. It must be planted in the summer, in ground that has been well dried. Six months after it has been laid in the earth, you will find roots fit for eating; but in reality it is a year before they are fully mature, and attain to their ordinary size; at the end of which time, although they be not dug up, they will remain a long while under ground uninjured, but if taken out of the earth, grow rotten in the space of three days. The roots, therefore, should be carefully cleansed without delay, the little skin being first stripped off them; they should then be cut into small pieces, and laid upon the floor to dry for two days. After being pounded in a mortar, they are reduced to flour, and made into bread baked in various shapes, which, though wholesome, is relished by none but persons unacquainted with the taste of wheat. These American loaves are round, flat, and rather hard, like the bark of the cork tree. They look like those cakes made of flour and honey in Germany, but are devoid of all taste. In other places they squeeze a juice from the roots of the mandiò, which, when left in a vessel for two hours, deposits a white settlement at the bottom. This, when dried, is made into flour, and that into small cakes, balls, and other things. The same juice is boiled on the fire, and makes a kind of paste, which is not only used as victuals, but likewise for starch to stiffen clothes with, and sometimes for glue to fasten paper together. There is another kind of mandiò, the roots of which, after being softened by lying for some days in water, are roasted on the ashes, and eaten without prejudice. It would take up a long time to relate all the different methods by which the mandioc is converted into meat, drink, and medicine, mixed with butter, barley, and sugar. Happy are the Americans who can deceive and appease their stomachs by so many artifices! For my part, though I have often, in travelling, been exceedingly hungry, I could never prevail upon myself to satisfy the cravings of appetite with the mandioc, in whatever way it were dressed. If the Americans like it, that is sufficient: haud equidem invideo, miror magis. I confess, however, that the root of the mandioc properly cleaned, and eaten plain with boiled beef, was by no means disagreeable to me. I never doubted either that these roots, when prepared in other ways, though insipid to Europeans, create good blood and juices; for, to omit other arguments, the American mothers, whenever they find their milk fail, after recruiting themselves with boiled mandioc, find their breasts filled, which a little while ago were quite exhausted. The Portugueze in Brazil perform arduous journeys of many months, on foot, through immense wilds, furnished generally with no other provision than the flour of the mandioc. The Portugueze sailors also, when they are detained many months in the Brazilian ports, and when they sail back to their native land, feed principally upon the mandioc, and most part of the natives do the same; for as the continual rain prevents the cultivation of wheat, the higher ranks only eat wheaten bread, the flour being conveyed at a great expense from Lisbon. The North Americans also greatly esteem, and carefully cultivate the mandioc. The Brazilian and Paraguayrian Indians account this plant one of the greatest blessings of Providence, as being frequently the only support of life; for although locusts, ants, or a long drought, should entirely destroy maize, pot-herbs, pulse, melons, and fruits; the mandioc alone, surviving under ground, would supply the place of all these things; for when the boughs, and leaves of this tree are, by some means, destroyed, the roots flourish, increase, and remain uninjured. Drought, which destroys other plants, is favourable and salutary to this. But now the resemblance of the name admonishes me to pass from the esculent mandiò, to the woolly mandiyù.