“Look here though, boys,” said I, “you are now collecting a good many pets, and I am not going to have your mother troubled with the care of them all; each must look after his own, and if I find one neglected, whether beast or bird, I set it at liberty. Mark that and remember it!”
My wife looked greatly relieved at this announcement, and the boys promised to obey my directions. Before we retired for the night I prepared the buffalo meat I had brought, I lit a large fire of green wood, and in the smoke of this thoroughly dried both the tongue and steaks. We then properly secured all the animals, Jack took his little pet in his arms, and we lay down and were soon fast asleep.
At daybreak we were on foot, and began to prepare for a return to Falconhurst.
“You are not going to despise my sago, I hope,” said Ernest; “you have no idea what a trouble it was to cut it down, and I have been thinking too that if we could but split the tree, we might make a couple of long useful troughs which might, I think, be made to carry water from Jackal's River to Tentholm. Is my plan worth consideration?”
“Indeed it is,” I replied; “and at all events we must not abandon such a valuable prize as a sago-palm. I would put off our departure for a day, rather than leave it behind.”
We went to the palm, and with the tools we had with us attempted to split the trunk. We first sawed off the upper end, and then with an axe and saw managed to insert a wedge. This accomplished, our task was less difficult, for with a heavy mallet we forced the wedge in further and further, until at length the trunk was split in twain. From one half of the trunk we then removed the pith, disengaging it, with difficulty, from the tough wood fibres; at each end, however, I left a portion of the pith untouched, thus forming a trough in which to work the sago.
