Every bongo, on leaving the interior, takes on board a large number of plantains, not yet fully ripe, and which are therefore called _verdes_. These are detached from the stalk, “corded up” in the bow of the boat, and constitute the principal reliance of the men. A few, that are nearly or quite ripe, called _maduras_, are also taken on board for immediate use. Besides these, there is a box of jerked beef, or what the Americans ironically call _yard beef_,—i. e. beef cut in long strips and dried in the sun. Some bottles of _manteca_ (lard), or a quantity of kidney fat and a bag of rice are added, and then the substantial supplies for the voyage are complete. The cookery is very simple. Stakes are driven in the ground to support the kettle, in which is first put a portion of fat, next a layer of _platanos verdes_ from which the skin has been stripped, then a layer of beef cut in small pieces, a calabash of rice, some salt, and so on until the kettle is filled. Water is poured over all, and the whole is thoroughly boiled. While this is going on, the men amuse themselves with roasting bits of meat on the ends of pointed sticks. Nothing can be wilder or more picturesque than a dozen naked, swarthy figures crouched around the fire, in the deep shadows of the forest, protecting their faces from the heat with their hands, and keeping up the while a most vociferous discussion, generally about the merits of this or that bongo, or upon some other subject of equal interest to themselves. When the mess in the kettle is cooked, each one fills his calabash, and with his fingers or a cocoa-nut spoon disposes of it at his leisure. As the “yard beef” has always a most suspicious odor, I could bring myself to taste the contents of the kettle but once. I must do the marineros the justice to say that it was not an unsavory dish. It is always arranged to have half a kettle full of the compound over, to which the men help themselves at their pleasure.