While we were talking thus, we were penetrating the sombre arches of the forest, and for two hours we surveyed it in all directions. Chance rewarded our search for eatable vegetables, and one of the most useful products of the tropical zones furnished us with precious food that we missed on board. I would speak of the bread-fruit tree, very abundant in the island of Gilboa; and I remarked chiefly the variety destitute of seeds, which bears in Malaya the name of “rima.” Ned Land knew these fruits well. He had already eaten many during his numerous voyages, and he knew how to prepare the eatable substance. Moreover, the sight of them excited him, and he could contain himself no longer. “Master,” he said, “I shall die if I do not taste a little of this bread-fruit pie.” “Taste it, friend Ned—taste it as you want. We are here to make experiments—make them.” “It won’t take long,” said the Canadian. And, provided with a lentil, he lighted a fire of dead wood that crackled joyously. During this time, Conseil and I chose the best fruits of the bread-fruit. Some had not then attained a sufficient degree of maturity; and their thick skin covered a white but rather fibrous pulp. Others, the greater number yellow and gelatinous, waited only to be picked. These fruits enclosed no kernel.