Nat the Naturalist: A Boy's Adventures in the Eastern Seas by George Manville Fenn
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
COMPANY TO DINNER.
I was wiping the tears from my eyes as Mr Ebony, as uncle called him,came up, carrying something in a great palm leaf, while his companionshad something else in a basket.
Mr Ebony was grinning tremendously. Then he said something, and thetwo others went away, while our black guest, for that he evidently meantto be, sniffed at the pigeons, rubbed himself, and danced with delight.
But we had wronged him, for he was not going to behave shabbily, for,taking the basket, he rolled out of it a dozen great fruit, half beingcocoa-nuts, the other something nearly as large that I had never seenbefore.
Then he nodded and grinned, and had another bit of a dance beforeunrolling the huge palm leaf, and showing us four good-looking fishes,each twice as big as a large mackerel, and so fresh that one was hardlynow dead.
Mr Ebony grinned and danced again, nodding at us both, and sayingsomething in his tongue which sounded to me like, "Now we'll have such ajolly tuck-out;" but of course it was not that, though it evidentlymeant as much.
The next minute with wonderful skill our visitor had cut some bambooswith a kind of adze he had in the cord round his waist, slit open andcleaned the fish with a sharp-pointed piece of wood, and then got eachone stuck on a piece of bamboo to roast before the fire.
He was like a man on springs; he did things so jerkily and quick,jumping up and rushing off, to come back laden with wood for the fire,some of which he carefully put on, and then nodded and grinned andrubbed himself.
"Well, Mr Ebony," said my uncle, smiling, "you are really not a badfellow after all; and as you have come to dinner in full dress I am veryglad to see you, and let's fall to. By all the rules of etiquette, mydear sir, soup comes first, sir. We have no soup. Fish follows next,but, my dear carbonaceous-looking friend, the fish is not done, whilethe pigeons are, so sit down. Nat, my boy, give our honoured guest atin plate and a biscuit. Monsieur Ebony--pigeon?"
As my uncle spoke he pulled up his bamboo spit, and, taking hold of thesandy end, he presented the other to our visitor, who took hold tightly,watching my uncle the while as he drew his hunting-knife, and, with adexterous chop, divided the bamboo in two, leaving each with a pigeon.
"Come, Nat, boy, fall to. That other pigeon will have to be divided."
Then there was silence as I helped myself to the great pigeon, and webegan to eat with such a sense of enjoyment as I never felt before; butwhen my uncle and I were half through our pigeons Mr Ebony had finishedhis, and was casting furtive glances at the one still frizzling andbrowning before the fire in company with the fishes, which our guestcarefully turned.
"Give him the other pigeon, Nat," said my uncle, "and we will make upwith fish;" so I offered it to our visitor, but he shook his head, andbegan chattering, pointing to the fish, which he kept turning; and assoon as one was done, looked with a good deal of natural politeness tosee if we were ready; but as we were not, he threw his bones over hishead--of course I do not mean his own bones, but the bones of thepigeon, which he had crunched up with his white teeth, like a dog, andbegan at once upon his fish.
Leaving the fourth pigeon stuck upon the spit, we now in our turn eachtried a fish, which Uncle Dick said were a kind of perch, and verydelicious they were, especially with the addition of a little pepper, ofwhich, after the first taste, our visitor showed himself to be veryfond; and taken altogether, we made a most delicious repast, withoutthinking of the dessert which had yet to come.
This our visitor commenced after he had eaten a second fish, chatteringaway to us, and opening the nuts with great skill, giving one to each ofus, so that for the first time I tasted what cocoa-nut really was like.Not a hard, indigestible, sweet, oily kind of woody kernel fast roundthe shell, so that it was hard to get it off; but a sweet, soft pulpthat we cut and scraped out like cream-cheese, while it had a refreshingslightly acid flavour that was most delicious.
I never saw anyone before like our black friend, for no sooner did hesee by our looks that we enjoyed his cocoa-nuts than he jumped up anddanced, laughing with pleasure, but stopping every now and then to havea taste himself, till we had finished, when he took one of the othergreat nuts, which I saw were thorny, and marked down the sides withseams, as if ready for opening by means of a knife.
"That is not cocoa-nut, is it, uncle?" I said, looking curiously at thegreat wooden fruit, as the black proceeded to split it open with hishatchet, inserting the blade very cleverly so as to get it open, withthe result that a very unpleasant odour arose.
"It don't seem to be good, whatever it is," said my uncle. "Why, itmust be the durian, Nat," he said eagerly. "I wanted to see thatfruit."
"But it does not seem good to eat, uncle," I said, as I looked at theportion given to me, which appeared to be full of a kind of custard withbig seeds inside, about as large as a chestnut.
"They say it is delicious," he replied, helping himself to a little withthe blade of his knife. "Taste away."
I tasted, and he tasted, the black watching us attentively; and nosooner did he see the face I made than he became tremendously excited,jumping about, making smacking sounds with his lips, and rubbing himselfto show how good it was. Then, still seeing that we did not get on, heopened another, and taking half began to eat rapidly, dancing about withdelight and rolling his eyes, to explain to us that he was having a mostdelicious feast.
"Perhaps this is a better one," said my uncle, stretching out his handfor the untouched half, but upon tasting it he did not find it sosatisfactory as that which we had, and we made a very poor dessert, asfar as the durian was concerned, greatly to our friend's chagrin.
The meal being at an end, we each took a hearty draught of the purewater, and offered the tin to our guest, but he shook his head and kepton making signs as he cried out:
"Rack-rack-rack-rack!"
"What does he mean, uncle?" I said. "Look, he is pretending to poursomething into the water. He means arrack."
"Yes, and he will not get any, Nat--neither arrack nor brandy. Thoseare for medicines, my boy; but go and get one of those small bottles ofraspberry vinegar, and I'll give him some of that."
The black watched me intently as I fetched the little bottle of rich redsyrup, and kept his eyes upon his host, when, after emptying all butabout half a pint of water out of the tin, my uncle poured out atable-spoonful of the syrup into the clear water and stirred it up,offering it afterwards to the black, who took it, smelt it suspiciously,and then handed it to me.
I drank a portion, and found it so good that I finished it, to ourguest's amazement and disgust; but the cup was soon replenished, and nowhe tasted eagerly, drinking it up, and then indulging in a fresh dance.
"Now for work," said my uncle. "Let's clear away, Nat;" and the remainsof the dinner having been carried into the tent, the box of requisiteswas brought out, and with the black squatting down upon his heels towatch us attentively, I helped Uncle Dick prepare his first skins.