*CHAPTER XIII.*
_*A Feathered Companion; Making a Fish-Trap*_*.*
Everything about my house was as I had left it. Nothing had beendisturbed, the overflowing stream not having reached it. The vinesaround the stockade now completely covered it, and the yams that I hadplanted in front of the stockade-gate were thick and luxuriant, thegreat, bean-like leaves completely concealing the entrance.
The effects of the fever were fast leaving me, and I grew strongrapidly. There was much to do, now that I was settled down at home. Idug up the yams in front of the stockade-gate and stored them in thehouse for future use. Then I carried out the couch and made a new oneof fresh branches and grass, more comfortable than the first had been.
I also made two fire-places, mere enclosures for keeping the coals inplace. These consisted of circular enclosures of stones brought fromthe stream, each about three feet in diameter and one foot high, onebeing in a corner of the house for use during rainy weather, and theother in the enclosure of the stockade, near the gate.
My next thought was to plant yams by the trunks of all the trees nearthe house. This would furnish me an inexhaustible supply, and of asuperior quality, as the vines would have plenty of chance to climb, upand around the tree trunks.
One day while walking through the bush in search of pigeons, havingsucceeded in killing two, I came across several cocoanut palms of muchsmaller size than any I had yet seen. They were not more than fifteenfeet high to the base of the leaf heads, and their tops were veryspreading, much more so in proportion to the length of the trunks thanin the case of the larger trees. But these all bore great bunches ofnuts, and I began to wonder how the unripe nuts would taste, and whetherthey contained more water than the ripe ones.
With but little difficulty I climbed one of them, and with my knifeclipped the stems of several of the nuts, which went tumbling to theground.
Descending, I cut off the husk of the end opposite the stem, until Icould make a hole through the shell. The latter was very thin and soft,and the knife went through it easily. My knife was always in excellentcondition, kept so by frequent sharpening on the stone which I used forstriking fire to the tinder.
Raising the nut as though it were a canteen, I drank the water. It wassomewhat different from that of a ripe nut, much sweeter, more limpidand very cool and refreshing. After the water was drained from the nutI out it open, when I found the whole inside lined with a whitish,translucent pulp, of the consistency of solid jelly. This I found to bedelicious, but, after having eaten a little, rather sickish. However, Icarried several of the unripe nuts to the house, and soon became veryfond of them. I made frequent trips to the young palms and the waterbecame my principal beverage, while my only dessert was the jelly, forwhich I carved a rude spoon from a piece of hard wood.
I noticed that the parrots were not so noisy as they had been before Ileft for the interior, and for several weeks I was at a loss to accountfor it. But one evening, while returning from the water-cocoanut palms,I espied two diminutive parrots fluttering through the bush. They wereyoung ones and not quite able to fly, though nearly fledged. They wouldlaunch out from a limb, sometimes falling short of their next perch, andsometimes striking against a limb, when they would flutter to theground, making small, parrot-like cries. They were a beautiful green,with red wing feathers and red breasts and necks. The parent birds allthe while remained near-by, as though encouraging the little ones intheir attempts to fly.
I tried to catch one of them, but they were sufficiently active to evademe successfully. I felt a great desire to capture one and teach him totalk, for I sometimes longed for a companion to speak to. Finally Ievolved a plan for catching one. I set to work to construct a net, fora snare would injure them. I prepared a great quantity of fibres fromthe cocoanut cloth, and with it wove a purse-shaped net, perhaps twofeet in length. This was to be suspended to a limb of a tree, andbaited with a piece of roast yam suspended over the mouth of the bag insuch a manner that, when the young parrot reached for it, he would bealmost sure to lose his balance and fall in. Its weight, together withthe fluttering of the bird, would draw the mouth of the bag together andprevent its escape.
This net cost me several weeks of work, but it was at last finished andready to set. This I did very carefully, selecting a low limb in whatseemed a favorite place for the parent birds to give flying lessons tothe little ones.
For several days the net remained undisturbed, and every morning Isupplied it with a fresh, white piece of yam.
One morning, just at daylight, I was awakened by a great outcry ofparrots, and, feeling sure that one of the young birds had fallen intothe net, I hastened toward it. Sure enough, the net had done its work,for it was bobbing about and swaying from the limb, while muffled littleshrieks came from the nearly-closed mouth; and from the trees aroundthere arose a perfect babel of discordant cries of parrots, old andyoung. The two parent birds were perched on the limb over the net, whenI arrived, but on my approach they flew away a short distance, hurlingcries of defiance at me. Carefully I cut the net clear of the limb andcarried it to the house, the belligerent little parrot all the timefluttering and shrieking, and striking at my hand whenever it was nearthe opening. I reproached myself for not thinking to make a cage for itwhen captured, and I was obliged to secure the opening and deposit thenet in the house, while I made a cage for my future companion. This wasnot a difficult task. Going to the brook where the wild canes grew, Icut a quantity of them and, cutting them to the required length, I stuckthem into the ground, leaving spaces about two inches wide. The canesformed a small yard about two feet square. The top was covered with apiece of cocoanut cloth, the edges being tied all around to the uprightcanes.
How to get the fighting little bird out of the net and into the cage wasthe next question. I did not exactly relish the idea of putting my handinto the net, so finally I decided to lift one corner of the cocoanutcloth on the top of the cage, and, loosening the mouth of the net,insert it under the cloth, at the same time reversing the net. Thescheme worked perfectly and the little parrot tumbled into the cage, hisfeathers all ruffled. He was a curious little thing and I laughed aloudas, without uttering a sound, he proceeded to smooth his feathers, andthen to circumnavigate the cage. He then retired a little from the barsand regarded me with the utmost seriousness, canting his head, lookingat me first with one eye and then the other. Then he began to dress hisfeathers, evidently resolved to make the best of it all, and to feelperfectly at home from the first.
I made my pet a little run-way outside the wall of the house,constructing it in the same manner as I had the cage, covering it halfwith cloth and the remainder with canes so he could have both sun andshade. This enclosure I connected with the cage by cutting a squarehole through the wall of the house.
As the weeks passed, the parrot grew, his wing and tail feathersdeveloped, and he became very beautiful. He enjoyed his new home,apparently, spending a part of his time outside, and part inside. Heenjoyed the sunshine, but would never remain long in it. He preferredthe shade of the cloth covered portion. Nights, he always passedinside, and I made a perch for him to sleep on. It was simply a canepassing through the cage and securely fastened to a bar on each side.Hours and hours he would spend, swinging on this bar over and over,holding on with his claws, and then with his stubby beak. I fed him onyams, bananas and oranges, but the banana was his favorite food.
Every day I talked to him, telling him all about the ship-wreck,discussing with him the various tasks that occupied me, and theprobability of my rescue. I named him Puff Ball on account of his shapewhen captured, and then I called him simply "Puff." Puff listenedpatiently to all I had to say, frequently interjecting a sharp comment.Sometimes he would interrupt me by setting up a loud screeching, and Ialways had to cease talking when Puff had the floor.
For weeks he did not appear to attempt to imitate my words, and I beganto despair of teaching him to talk, w
hen one morning, as I lay awake fora few minutes before arising, I heard him softly chattering to himself.I listened and heard him say "Puff," "Puff," very distinctly. I wasdelighted and, going to the cage, I complimented him on his firstattempt.
Once while bathing in the stream, I noticed, for the first time, severalfish gliding through a quiet pool. From the momentary glance I had ofthem they appeared to resemble the white perch of the lakes at home.
This opportunity to add to my larder could not be neglected, and I setto work to devise a plan for capturing them. I thought, at first, ofmaking a hook from thorns; but this idea was abandoned as not apt to bepractical, and I hit upon a plan for making a net. The firstinspiration gradually developed into a trap, and took definite shape asI revolved the matter in my mind. It was a simple device, but I spentmuch time and patience in perfecting it.
First selecting one of the supple vines, about half an inch inthickness, I bent it into the form of a hoop, two feet in diameter,uniting the two ends by lashing them with smaller vines. Then, with theaid of a sharp thorn and thread from the fibre of the cocoanut, I sewedtogether pieces of the cocoanut cloth so as to make a bag three feetlong, with an opening of the same diameter as the hoop. Then I sewedthe edge of the opening of the bag firmly to the hoop, which kept thebag rigidly open.
Next, from more vines, I wove a funnel-shaped basket, the larger endfitting inside the hoop, while the smaller end, which was inserted intothe bag, had an opening about six inches in diameter. The larger end ofthis basket, which was like an inverted cone, was lashed to the hoop,all around.
This was my fish-trap, and as soon as it was ready I took it to thebrook. The water was normally low and, finding the narrowest place inthe current, I built across it a wall of stones, having an opening inthe centre of the wall, in width just a little less than the diameter ofthe hoop. The trap was then set into this opening, with the mouthpointing up-stream, the gentle current keeping the bag distended, whilethe hoop projecting across the edges of the opening in the wall held thebag in position.
I expected that the fish, swimming downstream, finding no other passage,would enter the opening of the bag and pass through the small opening inthe lower end of the cone, thereby becoming imprisoned. From similardevices that my brother and myself had made and used in the brooks athome, I knew that, once inside, the fish would huddle in the lower endof the bag and make no effort to repass through the opening in the endof the cone.
A Boy Crusoe; or, The Golden Treasure of the Virgin Islands Page 13