Fritz was speedily perfect in the accomplishment of sucking sugar-cane, discovering by experience the necessity for a fresh cut at each joint or knot in the cane, through which the juice could not flow; he talked of the pleasure of initiating his brothers in the art, and of how Ernest would enjoy the cocoanut milk, with which he had filled his flask.*
* M. Wyss's acquaintance with sugar has not extended to the sugar cane. The sap does not flow; it is embedded in the very fibrous pulp, and the cane must be crushed, and its juice cooked and repeatedly refined, to make the sugar. People enjoying the cane in its natural state must chew the pulp, which is not particularly sweet.
`My dear boy,' said I, `you need not have added that to your load; the chances are it will be vinegar by the time we get home. In the heat of the sun, it will ferment soon after being drawn from the nut.'
`Vinegar! Oh, that would be a horrid bore! I must look directly, and see how it is getting on,' cried Fritz, hastily swinging the flask from his shoulder, and tugging out the cork. With a loud `pop' the contents came forth, foaming like champagne.
`There now!' said I, laughing as he tasted this new luxury. `You will have to exercise moderation again, friend Fritz! I daresay it is delicious, but it will go to your head, if you venture deep into your flask.'
`My dear father, you cannot think how good it is! Do take some. Vinegar, indeed! This is like excellent wine.'
We were both invigorated by this unexpected draught, and went on so merrily after it, that the distance to the place where we had left our gourd dishes seemed less than we expected. We found them quite dry, and very light and easy to carry.
Just as we had passed through the grove in which we breakfasted, Turk suddenly darted away from us, and sprang furiously among a troop of monkeys, which were gambolling playfully on the turf at a little distance from the trees. They were taken by surprise completely, and the dog, now really ravenous from hunger, had seized one, and was fiercely tearing it to pieces before we could approach the spot.
His luckless victim was the mother of a tiny little monkey, which, being on her back when the dog flew at her, had hindered her flight; the little creature attempted to hide among the grass, and in trembling fear watched the tragic fate of its mother.