The oil of the cocoa-nut is chiefly made in England and America, and the only process the nut goes through in the islands is that of drying. When the nuts have been collected they are split in halves very carefully with an axe, and then the halves are laid out in the sun. Very soon the heat loosens the kernel, which comes away and is then broken up into pieces. It is again put in the sun on mats, where it remains until it is thoroughly dried; then it is collected in sacks and sold by weight. Some traders, however, go in for making cocoa-nut oil, but not many, and if they do, a different process {186} has to be gone through. The nut, instead of being split open, has the husk cracked on a sharp pointed stake, it is then torn off and the inside split in two. Next the kernel is scraped out on an iron scraper, which is attached to a stool on which the native squats during the operation, and the white part drops from the scraper into a vessel underneath, and is then put into a cask to rot, after which it is pounded and made into a pulp and placed at the end of a tilted trough—a hollowed-out log or old canoe—until all the oil runs out of it. This oil is then strained and put into casks. The stench of a copra boat is proverbial, and this, without the copra bugs, is enough to make one keep clear of them as much as possible. Each trader has his copra shed and drying ground, and when Burns Philp’s trading boats call, the sacks of copra are taken out by the resident trader’s “boys” and again sold, this time to be shipped home for further handling. When the oil is extracted in England, nearly double the quantity is obtained from the same amount of nuts, and the refuse is made into cakes for cattle. [Illustration 64: A TRADER RECEIVING COCOA-NUTS, AOBA, NEW HEBRIDES] When the trading steamers come it is quite an event in the monotonous life of many of the small traders. Mails and provisions are sought with an {187} eagerness that is delightful, for when a man has talked nothing but native languages, and seen nothing but black men for weeks, these visits are naturally the important event, and a newspaper or two, if such luxuries can be found, no matter how old, are seized on by traders as if they were gold. Copra is practically the only industry that flourishes without artificial aid. Even that is now being helped along, as the natives see there is money in it, and some of the thrifty chiefs are making their men plant the trees and look after them.