Read the chapter
Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
Chapter 20. A FEW DAYS ON LAND
I was very impressed when I touched land.
Ned Land tried the soil with his feet, as if to take possession of it.
However, it was only two months before that we had become, according to Captain Nemo, "passengers on board the Nautilus," but in reality, prisoners of its commander.
In a few minutes we were within musket-shot of the coast.
The whole horizon was hidden behind a beautiful curtain of forests.
Enormous trees, their trunks reaching 200 feet, were tied by garlands of bindweed into natural hammocks rocked by a light breeze.
Mimosas, figs, hibisci, and palm trees grew together, and under their green roof orchids, legumes, and ferns flourished.
But without noticing all these beautiful examples of Papuan plants, the Canadian left the pleasant for the useful.
He found a coco-tree, beat down some of the fruit, broke them.
And we drank the milk and ate the nut with a satisfaction that protested against the ordinary food on the Nautilus.
"Excellent!" said Ned Land.
"Exquisite!" replied Conseil.
"And I don't think," said the Canadian, "that he'd object to us bringing a load of coco-nuts on board."
"I don't think he'd, but he wouldn't taste them."
"So much the worse for him," said Conseil.
"And so much the better for us," replied Ned Land.
"There will be more for us."
"One word only, Master Land," I said to the harpooner, who was starting to attack another coco-nut tree.
"Coco-nuts are good things, but before filling the canoe with them it would be wise to look around and see if the island doesn't produce something else just as useful."
"Fresh vegetables would be welcome on board the Nautilus."
"Master is right," replied Conseil.
"I suggest we save three places in our boat".
One is for fruits, another for vegetables.
The third is for meat, of which I haven't yet seen the smallest sign.
"Conseil, we mustn't lose hope," said the Canadian.
"Let's continue," I replied, "and wait. Although the island seems uninhabited, it might still contain some people who would be less hard than we're on the nature of game."
"Ho! ho!" said Ned Land, moving his jaws in a meaningful way.
"Well, Ned!" said Conseil.
"My word!" replied the Canadian, "I'm starting to understand the appeal of eating people."
Ned! Ned! What are you saying? You, a man-eater? I wouldn't feel safe with you, since I share your cabin. I might wake up half eaten.
"Friend Conseil, I like you a lot, but not enough to eat you for no reason."
"I wouldn't trust you," replied Conseil.
But enough. We must bring down game to satisfy this cannibal, or one fine morning master will find only pieces of his servant to serve him.
While we were talking like this, we were entering the dark arches of the forest, and for two hours we explored it in all directions.
Chance rewarded our search for edible vegetables, and a useful tropical product gave us precious food we lacked on board.
I mean the bread-fruit tree, very common on the island of Gilboa, and I noticed mainly the type without seeds, which in Malaya is called "rima."
Ned Land knew these fruits well from his many voyages and had eaten them often.
He had already eaten many during his many voyages, and he knew how to prepare the eatable part.
Moreover, the sight of them excited him, and he couldn't control himself any longer.
"Master," he said, "I'll die if I don't taste a little of this bread-fruit pie."
"Taste it, friend Ned, taste it as you want. We're here to make experiments, so make them."
"It won't take long," said the Canadian.
And with a lens, he lit a fire of dead wood that crackled happily.
During this time, Conseil and I chose the best fruits of the bread-fruit.
Some hadn't yet reached a good level of ripeness, and their thick skin covered a white but rather fibrous pulp.
Others, most of them yellow and soft, waited only to be picked.
These fruits had no kernel inside, their soft white pulp filled the whole hollow center.
Conseil brought a dozen to Ned Land, who placed them on a coal fire, after cutting them in thick slices, and while doing this he repeated,
"You'll see, master, how good this bread is. Even more so when you've been without it for so long. It's not even bread,"
He added, "but a delicate pastry. You haven't eaten any, master?"
"No, Ned."
"Very well, get ready for a tasty thing. If you don't come back for more, I'm no longer the king of harpooners."
After a few minutes, the part of the fruits that was exposed to the fire was completely roasted.
The inside looked like a white paste, a sort of soft crumb, the flavor of which was like that of an artichoke.
I must admit this bread was excellent, and I ate it with great pleasure.
"What time is it now?" asked the Canadian.
"At least two o'clock," replied Conseil.
"How time flies on firm ground!" sighed Ned Land.
"Let's go," replied Conseil.
We returned through the forest, we completed our collection by taking some cabbage-palms from the tops of the trees.
We also gathered little beans, which I recognized as the "abrou" of the Malays.
We found yams of a very good quality.
We were loaded when we reached the boat.
But Ned Land didn't think his supplies were enough, However, luck was on our side.
Just as we were pushing off, he noticed several trees, from twenty-five to thirty feet high, a type of palm-tree.
Finally, at five o'clock in the evening, loaded with our riches, we left the shore, and half an hour later we hailed the Nautilus.
No one appeared when we arrived, the huge iron-plated cylinder seemed deserted.
We brought the supplies on board, I went down to my room, and after supper I slept soundly.
The next day, January 6th, nothing new on board.
Not a sound inside, not a sign of life.
The boat was resting along the edge, in the same place where we had left it.
We decided to return to the island.
Ned Land hoped to be more lucky than the day before with the hunt, and wanted to visit another part of the forest.
At dawn we set off, the boat, carried by the waves that flowed to shore, reached the island in a few minutes.
We landed, and thinking that it was better to give in to the Canadian, we followed Ned Land, whose long legs threatened to leave us behind.
He went up the coast towards the west, then, crossing some streams, he reached the high plain that was bordered with wonderful forests.
Some kingfishers were wandering along the water-courses, but they wouldn't let us get close.
Their caution showed me that these birds knew what to expect from two-legged creatures like us.
And I concluded that if the island wasn't inhabited, at least human beings occasionally came there.
After crossing a large grassland, we arrived at the edge of a wood lively with the songs and flight of many birds.
"There are only birds," said Conseil.
"But they're eatable," replied the harpooner.
"I don't agree with you, friend Ned, because I see only parrots there."
"Friend Conseil," said Ned, seriously, "the parrot is like pheasant to those who have nothing else."
"And," I added, "this bird, properly prepared, is worth knife and fork."
Under the thick leaves of the wood, a world of parrots flew from branch to branch, able with training to speak human language.
For the moment, they were chattering with parrots of all colors.
There were also serious cockatoos, who seemed to think about some philosophical problem.
Bright red lories passed like a piece of cloth carried away by the breeze.
There were papuans with the finest blue colors.
In all, it was a variety of winged things most charming to see, but few were eatable.
However, a bird special to these lands, and which has never left the Arrow and Papuan islands, was missing from this collection.
But luck saved it for me before long.
After passing through a fairly thick group of bushes, we found a plain covered with bushes.
I then saw those wonderful birds, whose long feathers force them to fly against the wind.
Their waving flight, graceful curves in the air, and the shading of their colors, attracted and charmed one's eyes.
I had no trouble recognizing those birds among the others by their long feathers.
"Birds of paradise!" I exclaimed.
The Malays, who do a big trade in these birds with the Chinese, have several methods that we couldn't use for catching them.
Sometimes they put traps on top of high trees that the birds of paradise prefer to visit.
Sometimes they catch them with a sticky substance that stops their movements.
They even go so far as to poison the water sources that the birds usually drink from.
But we had to shoot them while flying, giving us few chances to bring them down, and we wasted half our ammunition.
About eleven o'clock in the morning, we crossed the first range of mountains that form the center of the island, and we had killed nothing.
Hunger drove us on, the hunters had relied on the products of the hunt, and they were wrong.
Luckily, Conseil, to his great surprise, made a double shot and got us breakfast.
He brought down a white pigeon and a wood-pigeon, which, cleverly plucked and hung on a stick, was roasted over a red fire of dead wood.
While these interesting birds were cooking, Ned prepared the fruit of the bread-tree.
Then the wood-pigeons were eaten down to the bones, and declared excellent.
The nutmeg, which they usually fill their crops with, flavors their flesh and makes it delicious.
"Now, Ned, what do you miss now?"
"Some four-footed game, Mr. Aronnax. All these pigeons are only side dishes and small things, and until I kill an animal with cutlets I won't be satisfied."
"Nor I, Ned, if I don't catch a bird of paradise."
"Let's keep hunting," replied Conseil.
"Let's go towards the sea. We've reached the first slopes of the mountains, and I think we'd better go back to the forest area."
That was sensible advice, and we followed it.
After walking for one hour we reached a forest of sago-trees.
Some harmless snakes slid away from us.
The birds of paradise fled when we came near.
I truly lost hope of getting close to one.
Then Conseil, who was walking in front, suddenly bent down.
He gave a shout of victory and came back to me, he was bringing a wonderful example.
"Ah! bravo, Conseil!"
"Master is very kind."
"No, my boy, you've made an excellent catch. Take one of these living birds, and carry it in your hand."
"If master will look at it, he'll see that I don't deserve much credit."
"Why, Conseil?"
"Because this bird is as drunk as a quail."
"Drunk!"
"Yes, sir, drunk with the nutmegs that it ate under the nutmeg-tree, where I found it. See, friend Ned, see the terrible effects of drinking too much!"
"By Jove!" exclaimed the Canadian, "because I've drunk gin for two months, you have to blame me!"
However, I examined the curious bird, Conseil was right.
The bird, drunk with the juice, was completely helpless.
It couldn't fly, it could hardly walk.
This bird belonged to the most beautiful of the eight types that are found in Papua and in the nearby islands.
It was the "large emerald bird, the most rare kind." It measured three feet in length.
Its head was fairly small, its eyes placed near the opening of the beak, and also small.
The shades of color were beautiful, it had a yellow beak and brown feet and claws.
Its wings were nut-colored with purple tips.
The back of the neck and head were pale yellow.
The throat was emerald, and the breast and belly were chestnut.
Two horned, downy nets rose from below the tail.
They extended the long light feathers of wonderful fineness.
These completed the whole of this marvelous bird.
The natives have poetically named it the "bird of the sun."
But if my wishes were satisfied by having the bird of paradise, the Canadian's weren't yet.
Luckily, about two o'clock, Ned Land brought down a wonderful hog, from the group of those the natives call "bari-outang."
The animal came just in time for us to get real four-legged meat, and he was well received.
Ned Land was very proud of his shot.
The hog, hit by the electric ball, fell dead on the spot.
The Canadian skinned and cleaned it properly, after taking half a dozen cutlets, meant to give us a grilled meal in the evening.
Then the hunt continued, which was even more marked by Ned and Conseil's successes.
Indeed, the two friends, beating the bushes, woke up a group of kangaroos that fled and jumped along on their elastic legs.
But these animals didn't run away so fast that the electric capsule couldn't stop their path.
"Ah, Professor!" cried Ned Land, who was carried away by the joys of the hunt.
"What excellent game, and stewed too!"
"What a supply for the Nautilus!"
"Two! three! five down!"
"And to think that we'll eat that meat, and that the idiots on board won't have a crumb!"
I think that, in the excess of his joy, the Canadian, if he hadn't talked so much, would have killed them all.
But he was satisfied with just a dozen of these interesting marsupials, these animals were small.
They were a type of those "kangaroo rabbits"
That usually live in the hollows of trees, and whose speed is extreme, but they're fairly fat, and give at least good food.
We were very satisfied with the results of the hunt.
Happy Ned suggested returning to this charming island the next day, for he wanted to remove all the eatable four-legged animals from it.
But he hadn't considered his host's anger or the islanders' return.
At six o'clock in the evening we had returned to the shore, our boat was tied in the usual place.
The Nautilus, like a long rock, came out of the waves two miles from the beach.
Ned Land, without waiting, got busy with the important dinner work, he understood cooking well.
The "bari-outang," grilled on the coals, soon filled the air with a delicious smell.
Indeed, the dinner was excellent, Two wood-pigeons completed this unusual menu.
The sago pasty, the artocarpus bread, some mangoes, half a dozen pineapples, and the drink made from some coco-nuts, made us very happy.
I even think that my good companions' ideas weren't as simple as they should be.
"Suppose we don't return to the Nautilus this evening?" said Conseil.
"Suppose we never return?" added Ned Land.
Just then a stone fell at our feet and cut short the harpooner's suggestion.