Food to preserve.
In many of the Australian islands and New Zealand vast quantities of sea-fowl (the sooty petrel or mutton bird, especially) are captured for food by the sailors and natives. These birds visit the islands annually in vast flocks, arriving generally about the latter end of November, for the purpose of depositing their eggs, of which each hen bird lays one or two, about size of ordinary goose eggs, and somewhat similar in flavour. The cock bird takes charge of the nest during the day and the hen by night, taking in turn the duty of going to sea for food. Perfect warrens, like those of rabbits, are formed by these birds, who burrow in the soft ground for a distance of 2ft. or 3ft., and there form their nests. Some of the islands are so thickly and completely honeycombed by these feathered miners as to render walking a very unsafe proceeding.
The collection of the eggs and young birds from the depths of the holes is a task usually assigned to the native women, who not uncommonly find a snake coiled up where the young petrel should be. When a large catch is determined on for preservation and the obtainment of feathers, a number of bird hunters assemble and construct a sort of hedge or fence a short distance from the beach, and just before daybreak, when the birds, about to proceed to sea to feed, are out of their retreats, a sudden rush is made by the whole assembled party of birdcatchers who, with the most hideous yells and cries, drive the throngs of waddling, flapping victims, who cannot rise from the ground to fly, towards the centre of the fatal barrier, where a deep pit has been prepared for their reception. Into this they are forced, layer on layer, until they literally suffocate each other in their vain endeavours to escape from the treacherous pitfall. The feathers, when plucked from the birds, are worth about 3d. per pound, and it requires the joint plumage of about twenty to produce that quantity. Thirty bags of feathers, constituting the cargoes of two trading boats, were obtained by the sacrifice of 18,000 birds. A portion of the birds are preserved by dry smoking, and are extensively made use of. Some of the New Zealand tribes, by whom this bird is called the “Titi,” have recourse to a most ingenious and effective method of preservation for it and some other articles of food. The petrels, after having been carefully plucked, have all their bones removed. They are then cooked over the fire in large shallow dishes or platters, made from the bark of the “Totara” tree, and when sufficiently done are placed in the natural bottles or flasks formed of a species of seaweed, like a huge variety of the bladder-wrack (Fucus vesiculosus) of our own coasts. The heated fat from the birds is then poured in, and the sea-bottle securely tied up. Provisions treated in this manner remain perfectly good for a very long time, being completely excluded from both air and moisture. The Indians of Vancouver Island make use of seaweed bottles, made like those just described, to store up fish oil in.
Hints on large game.
In Africa, the flesh of the ox and of all the game animals—from the antelope and buffalo to the giraffe, and the rhinoceros, the hippopotamus, and elephant—is used under the general name of “biltong.” The scene, when one of the larger animals has been shot, and is found perhaps next morning by the hunter’s native followers, is exciting enough. In the case of an elephant which has lain till ten or eleven o’clock, when the heat of the sun will have begun to form gases in the stomach, and to distend the carcase till a man may tread upon it as he would on an unyielding rock, the man, whose duty it is to make the first incision, approaches cautiously, taking care, if possible, not to to come leeward, and especially to see that his retreat is clear; then reaching forward at the full length of his arm, he drives his spear into the abdomen, leaping backward at the same time to avoid the gaseous and liquid discharge which ensues. The rest wait until the carcase has collapsed, and the stench is somewhat dissipated, and then rush in and commence the cutting up. The thick skin is torn in broad planks from the sides, groups of men mount upon the ribs, and, squatting there upon their hams, use their assegais in cutting down through the flesh; others, having effected a breach in the thinnest part of the abdomen, enter and tear out the internal dainties, and then, assegais in hand, begin to cut the flesh from the inside of the ribs—an operation, it will be readily believed, involving no small risk to these who happen to be sitting just above them, and who not unfrequently receive a hint that the human skin is by no means invulnerable. The surrounding bushes now begin to be covered with blanket-like flaps of skin and meat, by membranes and sheets of the internal fat, and from every fire arises the savoury odour of some tit bit, being hastily grilled to appease the appetite while the pot which has been filled with the first cuttings of the flesh is being boiled. Long, straight poles are next cut, and laid across like rails from fork to fork of other trees, and on these the flesh, cut into strips from 3ft. to 16ft. long, and about two fingers thick, is hung to dry, care being taken not to hang it so closely as to prevent the air passing freely between the pieces. Two or three days will generally be enough to dry the meat, which is then taken down, and either tied up in bundles if to be carried by men, or stowed as loosely as possible in the waggon, being opened and spread out at every halt for the first few days to guard against the possibility of putrefaction; further cooking is not absolutely necessary. The biltong may be bruised up with a yoke skei, or the head of an axe, and eaten raw, or it may be broiled and bruised as before, or if boiled it may be put into a native mortar and pounded with a pestle or a yoke skei until the fibres are thoroughly separated, and much trouble is saved in the way of mastication. With the addition of a little cinnamon or other spice, dried peaches, shreds of dried onion, or any little thing to vary the taste, this is by no means a bad dish for hungry men.
In all cases, however, it is well to make a proportion of the meat carry itself; and here the traveller will be called upon to exercise great caution. It will never do to purchase at random a number of animals of various species, because, in the first place, the different kinds will not herd together, and, therefore, each will require separate attendants; and, secondly, because the country to be explored may be unfavourable to the existence of some of them. In North Australia we took no cattle, because we had reason to think that plants poisonous to them abounded there. Of our flock of sheep we took none beyond the standing camp, and even of them we lost more than three-fourths by the disasters of the sea and river voyage before they were landed. If men would make up their minds to eat horseflesh, we believe it would be more economical, and would give less trouble to the exploring party, who might purchase at the outset a considerable additional number of horses, young of course, but at least sufficiently docile to carry a pack and travel with the others; and when the burden of one of these had been eaten off, to shoot him, and convert as much of his flesh as could not be eaten in the first two days into biltong.
In many of the later expeditions camels have been used more or less successfully, and their flesh has also served as food to the explorers on emergencies.
In South Africa oxen are so generally used that no one thinks of undertaking a journey of any extent without them, and, not less as a matter of course, his vehicle is the ox waggon; horses, as many as the traveller can afford, also accompany him; but, if he is really a hunter, these are seldom or never ridden until their energies are required for active service, but leisurely driven on by a Hottentot lad, and carefully tended, so as to husband their strength and keep them in good condition till they are really wanted. Sheep and goats are taken because most of the native tribes are so essentially pastoral that these animals may be cheaply purchased from them; and young lads, willing to drive them, may be hired for a trifling reward in addition to their food.
Nevertheless, all these animals are liable to casualties on the road: the goats or sheep may die from feeding on the beans that fall from the kameel doorn and various acacias; the stud may be thinned off by the annual horse sickness, even though the traveller may have taken the precaution to buy, at a higher price, what are called salted horses—i.e., such as have once had the sickness—for it is well known that if a horse takes the sickness in a district where it prevails in a mild form, which is generally the case in such as have been for a considerable time colonised, it will not protect him in the remote wilderness where the disease still maintains its unmitigated strength. It is, therefore, always advisable to ask not only whether the horse has had the sickness, but where he passed through the ordeal. We have known as much as 100l. given by a hunter for a horse up to his weight and warranted to be salted, with the proviso, however, that if the horse died of sickness during the first season his price was to be reduced by 60l.
Hints on food gathering.