Chapter 8 No.8

Thoughts of the Future; Making a Bow-Gun.

My house was now finished, and I began, with a light heart to think about starting on a long exploring trip. Before taking my departure, however, two questions of importance must be solved, if possible, namely, that of devising a weapon with which I could shoot game, if any was found; and some means of procuring fire.

The morning following the completion of the house and stockade, as I was walking toward the orange tree which continued to furnish me with an ample supply of fruit, an idea came to me, and so astonished was I that I had not thought of it before that I stopped short and gazed straight ahead of me for several minutes.

My knife!

Here was steel; now for a flint, and fire would be procurable at any moment. I understood the use of flint and steel, for many times, in our boyhood, my brother and I, on our excursions in the woods, had made fires with old gun-flints and our pocket-knives as steel, for cooking grey squirrels when we were fortunate enough to shoot any. We did this from choice, because of the novelty.

Without further thought of breakfast I turned toward the shore to search for a substitute for flint, for I did not expect to find the real article here, as I had only seen soft, calcareous rock which appeared to be the prevailing kind.

A long search up and down the beach failed to disclose any hard rock, not even a pebble of sufficient size. Shells were abundant, but they would not answer the purpose. I next turned my attention to the brook, and searched along the shallowest places for a hard stone. I found one at last, round and flat, about the size of a silver dollar. It was very dark, almost black, and appeared to be quite hard. Wiping it with my hand I laid it down in the sun and waited impatiently for it to dry. When perfectly free of moisture, I opened my knife, and holding the blade firmly in my left hand, I struck the stone sharply against the back of the blade, with a quick downward stroke. No spark appeared. Over and over again I tried but without success, but I saw that the stone scratched the steel, which gave me hope that the stone was sufficiently hard.

After several more trials, a tiny spark shot downward from the blade. My joy knew no bounds. Tinder must be procured. Like a flash came to my mind the feathery heads of the wild cane. If I could find one dry enough I thought it would do. I at once ran up stream to where the canes grew, and after a little search I found a plume that was dead and quite dry. Bending the cane down I gathered a handful of the floss from the head, and going to the foot of a cocoanut tree, I lay the cane floss down by the foot of the tree and once more tried to produce a spark. I was soon able to obtain a spark frequently, but they invariably failed to reach the floss, or to ignite when they touched it. But I saw that I had fire within reach, and it only required perseverance to procure it. Holding the knife blade closer to the floss, I struck again. This time a shower of tiny sparks descended to the floss, and, yes, it had caught! Quickly dropping the knife and stone I partially covered it with my hands and very gently blew upon it. A tiny wreath of smoke arose as the fire spread through the wad of floss. Blowing upon it still harder, in short quick puffs, a tiny flame leaped up; and quickly gathering such dry leaves and grass as I could reach, I heaped them upon the flame. These were followed by small dry sticks until I had a good fire going. I now only needed something to cook, and that I proposed to search for. But fire was desirable as company at night, and to ward off wild beasts should any be found; also in the future I might wish to make signals by the aid of smoke.

Not wishing to injure my faithful friend the cocoanut tree, I allowed the fire to go out, feeling full confidence in my ability to procure it any time I wished.

I now set about preparing for my journey of exploration, meanwhile carefully watering, several times each day, the creepers that I had set out along the walls of the stockade, until they showed no further signs of wilting during the greatest heat of the day. The water I brought, with much labor and many trips, from the brook, in cocoanut shells.

It occurred to me to plant vines in front of the door of the stockade, so that, should I be absent for a great length of time, they would grow up over the door and still further obscure my retreat. Acting on this idea, I searched about the bush for a vine less woody than those planted along the stockade. At length, on the further side of the clearing, I discovered a vine, not unlike a morning glory vine, only it had larger leaves, climbing up a tall, smooth tree, and this seemed to answer my purpose. So, getting down upon my knees I began to dig around the root in order to move it without disturbing the earth immediately surrounding it; when but a few inches below the top of the ground I came across a round, hard object which I at first thought to be a large root of the tree, but in digging still further around it I saw that the supposed root moved, until finally I lifted it out of the ground. As I did so I noticed that it had one end attached to the vine that I was after. The root was fully a foot and a half long, and about five inches in diameter, slightly rounded at the ends. I cut off the vine with my knife, and ran with the root to the brook and washed it clean. I now saw that I had found some kind of a tuber. With my knife I cut through the thin rough skin, disclosing a white substance beneath. Quickly cutting it in halves I found that the inside of the tuber was white and starchy. I wondered what it could be. It was not a sweet potato, for the latter is yellow. Then I began to think of the roots that I had read about in books of travel in the tropics, and the first that came to my mind was the yam. Yes, this must be the yam, though I did not know before that its foliage was in the form of a vine.

Here food was in plenty, healthful and nourishing, and sufficient to sustain life even if I found no other, it being only necessary to roast them in ashes.

I resolved to plant yam vines in front of the gate to the stockade, for, while the vines were growing up to conceal it, they would, in the meantime be storing away food for me against my return. This plan I put into immediate execution.

My next thought was of devising a weapon for offence and defence, also to be used in killing game. The idea of a bow and arrows at first suggested itself, but this was abandoned for the bow-gun, for, as boys, we were able to do good execution with the latter as it had a stock and breech, admitting of securing better aim.

Looking about for material from which to construct the bow-gun, the bamboo seemed to be the most available for the barrel; so I cut down one about two inches in diameter, from which I selected the longest and straightest section between the joints. Next I cut a deep notch about four inches from the larger end, and extending to the centre of the bamboo. From the lower end of the notch I split away the upper half of the tube, thus forming a spout about four feet long which was to carry the arrow. For a breech I selected a forked stick, the butt of which I carefully rounded and smoothed until it would fit tightly into the round socket at the larger end of the barrel, above the notch. This, though crude, furnished a very fair substitute for a breech to rest against my shoulder when taking aim, particularly as I had thought to select a forked stick which had the butt slightly bent so that, when fixed in the breech-end of the barrel, the proper elevation was given.

The next step was to make a bow and fix it firmly across the under side of the barrel, at right angles to it, I searched about in the bush a long time before I found a tree of the right size, straight and without branches; and, on bending it down toward the ground and cutting it, I found that it was elastic and quite hard. From the tree I cut a section about three feet long, which I squared for a distance of two inches in the middle, whittling what was to be the inner side down flat from either side of the squared part to either end, each half tapering slightly from the middle. I did not remove the bark from the back of the bow.

Next I cut a square slot about the width of the squared part in the centre of the bow, in the under side of the bamboo about a foot from what was to be the muzzle, being careful, however, not to cut through into the groove of the barrel. Into this I carefully fitted the squared portion of the bow, after which notches opening in opposite directions were cut on the lower side of the barrel, one on each side of the bow. With one of the supple vines I then lashed the bow firmly, drawing the vine over the notches. When the vine was thoroughly dry the bow would be held firmly and rigidly in place.

The question of arrows was quickly solved, for I could think of nothing that could serve the purpose better than the long smooth stem which supported the heads of the wild canes These were of just the right size and length. I cut several dozens of them, sharpening one end of each, and notching the other to receive the string. To give sufficient weight to the execution end of the arrow, I split a piece of the tough vine into fine strips, with which I closely wound the arrows near the ends, until the proper weight was secured to balance them during their flight and thus render them accurate. For the wings of the arrows I used sprays from the plumes of the wild cane, until I could find something more suitable, fastening them to the string end with fibres from the ever useful vine.

It now only remained to provide a string for the bow, before the weapon could be tested. Carefully separating the longest fibres of the cocoanut cloth. I braided them into a strong cord of uniform size, which I fastened to the bow.

And now for the test! Drawing the string back to the notch, I placed one of the arrows in the groove of the gun and, raising the gun to my shoulder, I released the string with an upward pressure of my right thumb, at the same time pointing the gun in the direction of the brook.

As straight as a line could be drawn, the arrow sped away over the brook and was lost in the thicket beyond. I felt confident of the success of my bow-gun, and after constructing a quiver for the arrows from a piece of the cocoanut cloth fastened together with thorns, and braiding a cord with which to sling it over my shoulder, I turned my attention to the final preparations for departure.

These consisted of providing a store of provisions in case I did not immediately find food on the way. I roasted several of the yams, and gathered two dozen oranges which were stored in a bag made of the cocoanut cloth. I did not include cocoanuts, for I was sure to find plenty as I went along.

I took the precaution to gather a quantity of the cane floss for tinder, which I placed in a short piece of bamboo, which I stopped up tightly at both ends with wooden plugs. This was to protect it from moisture in case of rain. I also took the cocoanut calendar.

The morning for departure arrived. Taking a farewell plunge in the brook, I made a hearty breakfast of yams and oranges, after which, closing the door of the stockade and fastening it with withes of the vine, I slung the quiver of arrows and the bag of provisions over my shoulder, took the bow-gun and started away along the shore, going in a southerly direction.