Meanwhile, ignoring all these fine specimens of Papuan flora, the Canadian passed up the decorative in favor of the functional. He spotted a coconut palm, beat down some of its fruit, broke them open, and we drank their milk and ate their meat with a pleasure that was a protest against our standard fare on the Nautilus. “Excellent!” Ned Land said. “Exquisite!” Conseil replied. “And I don’t think,” the Canadian said, “that your Nemo would object to us stashing a cargo of coconuts aboard his vessel?” “I imagine not,” I replied, “but he won’t want to sample them.” “Too bad for him!” Conseil said. “And plenty good for us!” Ned Land shot back. “There’ll be more left over!” “A word of caution, Mr. Land,” I told the harpooner, who was about to ravage another coconut palm. “Coconuts are admirable things, but before we stuff the skiff with them, it would be wise to find out whether this island offers other substances just as useful. Some fresh vegetables would be well received in the Nautilus’s pantry.” “Master is right,” Conseil replied, “and I propose that we set aside three places in our longboat: one for fruit, another for vegetables, and a third for venison, of which I still haven’t glimpsed the tiniest specimen.” “Don’t give up so easily, Conseil,” the Canadian replied. “So let’s continue our excursion,” I went on, “but keep a sharp lookout. This island seems uninhabited, but it still might harbor certain individuals who aren’t so finicky about the sort of game they eat!” “Hee hee!” Ned put in, with a meaningful movement of his jaws. “Ned! Oh horrors!” Conseil exclaimed. “Ye gods,” the Canadian shot back, “I’m starting to appreciate the charms of cannibalism!” “Ned, Ned! Don’t say that!” Conseil answered. “You a cannibal? Why, I’ll no longer be safe next to you, I who share your cabin! Does this mean I’ll wake up half devoured one fine day?” “I’m awfully fond of you, Conseil my friend, but not enough to eat you when there’s better food around.” “Then I daren’t delay,” Conseil replied. “The hunt is on! We absolutely must bag some game to placate this man-eater, or one of these mornings master won’t find enough pieces of his manservant to serve him.” While exchanging this chitchat, we entered beneath the dark canopies of the forest, and for two hours we explored it in every direction. We couldn’t have been luckier in our search for edible vegetation, and some of the most useful produce in the tropical zones supplied us with a valuable foodstuff missing on board. I mean the breadfruit tree, which is quite abundant on Gueboroa Island, and there I chiefly noted the seedless variety that in Malaysia is called “rima.”