“That must be the coast of New Guinea,” I observed to Oliver. “I only hope none of the inhabitants may come over to this island, for they are terrible savages.”
“If they come, we must keep out of their way,” said Oliver. “It would be better to remain here than to be carried off and eaten by them.”
Macco, having ended his survey, descended the tree. I tried to get up the same way, wishing to take a look round myself; but I found that, though not a bad climber, I could not manage it. Seeing no great use in persisting in the attempt, I gave it up. We could find no other way down to the shore, besides the one up which we had come. Having cleared away some impediments, we had less difficulty in returning than we had found in going upwards. Macco led; indeed, his knowledge of woodcraft in his native country was of great service to us, for I believe without him we should very easily have lost our way, even though we had left the marks of our knives on the creepers as we went up. As we were pushing on, my eye caught sight of some trees in a hollow on one side, which I at once knew to be sago-trees, from the description Mr Hooker had given me of them.
“See!” I exclaimed to Oliver, “there is a supply of food sufficient to last us for months, or years, indeed, if we can manage to manufacture the sago; and I think we shall have little difficulty in doing that.”
I pointed it out to Macco. He knew them at once.
“Yes, yes!” he said; “dey bery good. I make food from dem. Come to look for water dere.”
Following him, we proceeded to the hollow I have mentioned. The ground was low and soft, and gave us some hopes of finding water. We instantly set to work, digging with our bamboo spades. We dug and dug in the soft earth; but though it was somewhat moist, not a thimbleful of water appeared. Still we did not despair. Oliver proposed that we should look for another spot at a lower level, where we might hope to be more successful. We accordingly set to work to force our way through the jungle towards the shore. Even with sharp axes we should have found some difficulty; but it was very heavy work with our knives. Still, it had to be done. Water was the first thing we required. We had progressed a hundred yards or less, though it had appeared to us upwards of a mile, when we heard close to us a peculiar cry, which sounded something like, “Wawk—wawk—wawk!—Wok—wok—wok!” loud and shrill above our heads. On looking up we caught sight of a magnificent bird, with rich crimson wings, and a long pendant tail like strips of satin. The head, and back, and shoulders were covered with the richest yellow, while the throat was of a deep metallic-green. The end of the side plumes had white points. I had little difficulty in recognising the bird of paradise, and I remembered Mr Hooker speaking of one which he called the red bird of paradise. This, I had little doubt, was the bird before us. Away he flew, however, followed by a smaller bird of a sombre brown plumage, which I could scarcely have supposed was his mate, had I not known that the wives of these gay-plumaged gentlemen are nearly always robed in Quaker-like simplicity. As he went, he appeared to be pecking away at the fruit of various trees over which he passed. It seemed surprising, too, that his long ribbon-like tail should have escaped catching in the thick foliage through which he rapidly flew. We, poor creatures, scrambling through the lower part of the forest, had a difficulty in making our way, without losing our close-fitting garments; indeed, as it was, they were sadly torn by the underwood. We were rewarded for our exertions, by reaching another hollow in which a number of the sago-palms grew.
The sago-palm has a creeping root-stem, like a nipa-palm, and Mr Hooker had told me that when it is nearly fifteen years old it sends up an immense terminal spike of flowers, after which it dies. It is not so tall as the cocoa-nut tree, but is thicker and larger. The mid-ribs of its immense leaves are twelve or fifteen feet long, and sometimes the lower part is as thick as a man’s leg. They are excessively light, consisting of a firm pith, covered with a hard rind. They are frequently used instead of bamboo; entire houses, indeed, are built of them. They serve for the roofs of houses, as also for the floors; and when pegged together, side by side, they form the centre part of the panels of frame houses. As they do not shrink, but look clean and nice, without requiring varnish, they serve better for walls and partitions than do ordinary boards. Boxes, also, are made of them; indeed, it would be difficult to describe the numberless uses to which they are put. The trunk, however, is the more valuable part, as the pith of the interior is the staple food of large numbers of the inhabitants of these regions. I will not stop here to describe how the sago is made; but I will do so shortly.
We again set to work with our bamboo spades, and dug away most energetically. Some moisture on the ground encouraged us to proceed, while the burning thirst from which we were suffering increased our anxiety for success. As we dug lower the ground became soft, and more and more moist, when Macco, putting down his hand, brought it up full of liquid mud. “Water come soon,” he exclaimed, digging away more energetically than before.
“Hurrah!” I shouted. “A spring! a spring! We are indeed lucky!”