Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1896-06-19
IN JOYFUL YuUA.TAN.
A TRAVELLING GROCERY MAN WAKES
ELOQUENT IN PRAISE.


He Talks of Bread That Crows In Nuts,
Milk That Comes From Trees. sirup
That Gathers on Ants Backs and Light
That Shines From Leaves.
Seems to me that ought to be sorry
l went down there, now,'' said John
Gilbert, the travelling grocery man.
Who recently returned from a six weeks
stay IN Yucatan. 81 don't see how I
can go ahead and resume the rounds
that my business calls for without a
sigh and regret, that, go where may
in my native land, will look in vain
for the tree that in those tropical climes
gave me light by night, for the tree
that gave me my daily bread, and the
one that gave me milk for nay coffee, to
say nothing of the pleasing and dubious
ant that gave me the sweetening for it.
Time and cash customers may wear
down and blunt the edge Of this regret.
but 1t Is sharp now, and really suppose
that l ought to be sorry 1 went down
there.
Il didn't know anything about these
remarkable specimens of the vegetable
md animal Kingdoms when first struck
that country, but I noticed that the
bread we had in camp was very good
and the milk very choice and creamy,
while the coffee was deliciously sweet.
ened. One morning I heard the cook of
our party hollering out orders to the
Indian guides.
:" Here, your he hollered. Hurry
amt bit of milk! Go bore for some
right away! And say, you dago over
yonder, what's the matter of you
straining some sugar out o. them ants?'
'sThis was little astonishing to me,
and asked for information. Then I
found out all about it.
''The tree that gave the bread we ate
down there doesn't look bit as if it
would do it. But I found out that looks
are deceptive under the equator. The
bread isn't bread exactly when it is first
picked, but it is a nice, stiff dough in
closed in a nutshell about the size of a
goose egg. They crack the shell, take
out the dough, knead it a little, and it
is ready for baking. By thinning it
down to batter with the milk they get
from another tree, our camp cook used
to make first rate pancakes out of it.
The day came away he strained the
sweetening out of quart Of ants, mixed
it up with a batch Of the dough and
made sweet cake that would have been
good enough for anybody's folks to set
out before company.
"The ants that supply the honey, or
strip, Or whatever it might be called,
are worth travelling all the way down
there on mule to see. They are about
the size of a small peanut, and on their
back is a transparent sack that they dis
til honey into until they swell up as big
as good sized marble. You can scoop
these ants up by the peck. They make
this honey to feed their young on, but
they are so good natured and SO suscep-
tible to familiarity that all one has to
do is to tickle them under the fore
shoulder and they will give you every
drop of honey they have in stock and
then go meekly off to fill up again.
'But this accommodating ant isn't
one whit more curious than the tree
that acts in. the capacity of dairy down
there. This tree has big leaf, SO tough
and leathery that they use it for half
soling shoes When they want to milk
one of the trees, they bore a hole in the
trunk, and it lets down a sap as white
and as sweet as any milk you ever read
about in summer hotel advertisements
To get sweet milk out of this vegetable
COW, though, you must milk it early in
the morning. After the sun has been up
two or three hours the tree gives sour
milk. They tell weird tale down there
about vengeful snake and foolhardy
Indian. The snake is of the deadly ven
omous aphidian family familiar in
the tropics by queer Indian name which
[ can t remember and which I couldn' It
pronounce if I did remember it. In Eng
| lish it is bushman, This particular
snake had nest Of young ones, and the
Indian was foolhardy enough to steal
them. The mother snake followed the
Indian to his hut only to find the dead
bodies of her offspring lying about with
their heads smashed. The mother snake
disappeared. Next morning the Indian
went out and tapped his COW tree for
milk, and returning drank it for his
breakfast. He had scarcely swallowed it
when he began to double up and howl.
His eyes bulged out and his cheeks turn
ed fiery red and with a yell fell dead
'S'The bushman!' cried his wife. The
bushman has stung him!
''He had all the symptoms that follow
the bite of that cheerful serpent, but no.
where about him could the marks of the
deadly fangs Of one be found upon the
dead Indian. Later they found the
mother bushman lying dead in the
bushes near the COW tree. In the trunk
Of the tree, deeply embedded, they dis
covered her poison fangs. Then the ter
rible truth was revealed. The snake,
despoiled Of her family, had avenged
herself on the despoiler. She had min
gled her venom with the milk in the
tree, and the Indian had drunk of it
deeply and met his awful fate.
''But the tree that gives light inter-
ested and amazed me more than the 9th
ers. This tree doesn't grow more than
10 or 10 feet high, but three of them
would light pretty good sized house.
If you rub its leaves smartly between
your hands they will glow in the dark
like a lightning bug. AS soon as night
comes the leaves on this tree begin to
shine as if they were SO many electric
lights. Looking off across country, one
can see scores Of the trees shining here
and there in the darkness like beacon
lights set in the hills. The Indians call
it the witch tree, and don't blame
them. It gives the best light after it has
been drenched with water, and SO it the
tree begins to grow little dim all they
have to do is to douse two or three pals
Of water over it, and it is just like CIV
ing the wick Of a lamp turn or two
higher. New York Sun.