"That is clever!" cried Fritz. "What in the world put that plan into your head?" "It is a plan," I replied, "which the negroes adopt, as I have learned from reading books of travel." "Well, it certainly makes a capital soup-tureen, and a soup-plate too," said Fritz, examining the gourd. "But supposing you had wanted to make a bottle, how would you have set to work?" "It would be an easier operation than this, if possible. All that is necessary is to cut a round hole at one end, then to scoop out the interior, and to drop in several shot or stones; when these are shaken, any remaining portions of the fruit are detached, and the gourd is thoroughly cleaned, and the bottle completed." "That would not make a very convenient bottle though, father; it would be more like a barrel." "True, my boy; if you want a more shapely vessel, you must take it in hand when it is younger. To give it a neck, for instance, you must tie a bandage round the young gourd while it is still on the tree, and then all will swell but that part which you have checked." As I spoke, I filled the gourds with sand, and left them to dry; marking the spot that we might return for them on our way back. For three hours or more we pushed forward, keeping a sharp lookout on either side for any trace of our companions, till we reached a bold promontory, stretching some way into the sea, from whose rocky summit I knew that we should obtain a good and comprehensive view of the surrounding country. With little difficulty we reached the top, but the most careful survey of the beautiful landscape failed to show us the slightest sign or trace of human beings. Before us stretched a wide and lovely bay, fringed with yellow sands, either side extending into the distance, and almost lost to view in two shadowy promontories; inclosed by these two arms lay a sheet of rippling water, which reflected in its depths the glorious sun above. The scene inland was no less beautiful; and yet Fritz and I both felt a shade of loneliness stealing over us as we gazed on its utter solitude. "Cheer up, Fritz, my boy," said I presently. "Remember that we chose a settler's life long ago, before we left our own dear country; we certainly did not expect to be so entirely alone--but what matters a few people, more or less? With God's help, let us endeavor to live here contentedly, thankful that we were not cast upon some bare and inhospitable island. But come, the heat here is getting unbearable; let us find some shady place before we are completely broiled away."