Several natives armed with blowpipes take the castaways out of the hut and into the forest. The four naked swells from the Menelaus, using their hands as fig leaves, go through the village past the naked women with their eyes downcast in a gentlemanly manner, dying of shame. Only the first mate holds his uncaring favorite in the pedagogical embrace of his long white fingers as if teaching it elementary skills. A poor pupil, certain to flunk the easiest of tests. But that is not the point: it is just that the first mate is defying the elements. He is making humor of his misery, i.e., of the best raw material of all. But the product remains limited to personal use only as nobody else partakes of it or indeed notices it at all. Not that he minds: he keeps holding his rudder for his own account, grinning squeamishly.
Alongside the naked men walk the two clothed (inedible) oldsters. The old seaman displayed a most brachiate curiosity, casting quick glances at the sky and his surroundings, the trees, the huts, the men, women, and children, harkening to the birdsong, the roar of the wild beasts, the sound of the wind in the treetops, and suddenly says with satisfaction, “By gum, this place don’t look half bad.” The doctor walks slightly apart from the group, as he has walked all his life. But with a difference! This time it is he who stands out, fully dressed, dandified even, aware of his terrible superiority, which he patiently flaunts to the shitty Nakeds. To that herd of stupid cattle which is shyly covering their genitals with the sorry dignity of former human convention. Stuff and nonsense! As if they’ve discovered a milder version of this damned mess! As if their sadly pendulous noses are going to shock anyone! Cause a revolt of public decency? Impinge on the moral sensitivity of those ladies walking about naked themselves who pay no attention whatsoever to the presence here of this naked, exciting masculinity?
But as soon as they set foot in the forest the first mate lets drop his wrinkled saint and starts furiously examining the flora, biting into fruits, nibbling leaves, branches, roots. Then, half out of his mind, he suddenly swings around to the doctor.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Show me the tree of knowledge!”
“Ah,” the doctor remembers, “yes, you’re after your alkaloids. I hope we’ll be able to find something for you. Piper Bette leaves, for instance. Only I don’t know what the trunk looks like. But I do know the Areca Catechu palm. I’ve seen it before. Its nuts contain a high percentage of alkaloids as well. The thing’s quite tall though, and betel nuts grow at the top, you’ll have to climb.”
“Trying to scare me?” laughs the first mate. “Climbing is a seaman’s skill I still haven’t forgotten.”
“I daresay. Only will these people allow you to climb that high?”
“Well, where could I possibly flee to? The sky?”
“Don’t ask me — ask them. However,” the redheaded Asclepian adds slyly, “I happen to know a man whom they would allow to climb.”
“You?” said the first mate, looking him up and down with derision. “You would climb?”
“I wouldn’t know how. I’ve never been good at the simian skills. But they wouldn’t stop the old salt.”
“You mean they’re not going to … to cook him?” says the first mate with envy. “They’ll spare you, too,” he adds with some hesitation. “I don’t resent it, believe me. That is to say, I don’t care. Will you just look at our crew scarfing down bananas?”
“Yes, I am looking. Carbohydrates and albumens. They’ll be pummeling their bellies mea culpa tonight.”
Indeed, the captain, the chief engineer, and the agent are greedily busy peeling bananas. Four-petaled peels fly about them like spent shells. Hunger has pushed aside all their awed nocturnal thoughts; they are feeding mindlessly, almost idiotically, no longer giving any thought to the death that looms so near — worse, so horrible. But all of a sudden, after a young cannibal throws down before them a fresh lot of bananas, coconuts, pineapples, mangoes, sugarcane marrow, and stickily sweet pink Indian figs, the captain seems to have had a brainstorm. He smacks his convex and surely intelligent brow hard:
“You know what, gentlemen? They’ve taken us out to pasture!” “Ah, the penny’s dropped at last!” mutters the doctor with a pitying smirk.
“They’re fattening us!” the first-threatened agent nearly sobs out in horror.
“That’s right, gentlemen,” the chief engineer states ashamedly, “fattening us like pigs.”
Now there ensues a painful awakening in the caring embrace of Mother Nature. The babies immediately release the generous breast. They feel the swellings in their bellies, they feel a dreadful animal slithering and squelching over the mishmash of sweet fruits inside. As if they had been eating live salamanders, rats, crocodiles, their innards rebel at the prospect of sudden catastrophe. Each hugs a tree trunk in an all-out effort to throw up and out their sneakingly greedy and disgusting death.
A disgusting death. A disgusting death you carry about inside you, as you do the image of your home country, the old homestead. My heart’s in the highlands. From across the seas I’ll come back to thee. And the soul parts from the body. Going hence. But before leaving it dictates the dispositions to be made as hereunder specified: one half of my assets to be left to my legitimate issue, the other half accruing to my lawfully wedded wife to own and manage as she shall see fit for the rest of her natural born life, should she not marry again. In the event of her remarriage, her inheritance shall pass on to my legitimate issue, or my grandchildren if any, upon their coming of age. My widow shall in such a case retain only her personal belongings from her so-called dowry, should any remain. Item, two dresses, one for everyday wear and the other for formal occasions; item, two changes of underwear, to wit, two slips, two pairs of panties, two brassieres, and two suspender belts, one change being white and the other black (for possible mourning). Items, two pairs of shoes, one of low quality and the other of high quality, the latter to be black for the reason set out hereinabove. Her jewelry shall be sequestered in full, including her wedding ring which through her remarriage will have lost its sacramental value and become an item of personal adornment. Further, there shall be deducted from the estate an appropriate sum of money, at rates currently obtaining, for a Class A funeral (not including a requiem) for my widow. There shall be carried in her funeral procession a wreath of thorns and nettles with a yellow ribbon bearing the inscription COME TO ME, DARLING. My widow shall be buried in a grave separate from mine, with the following inscription to be carved on the headstone: HERE LIES THE WOMAN OF MY LIFE TO THE DEATH. HER LATE HUSBAND #1. While the coffin is being nailed shut there shall — Knock knock knock — violent pounding at the door interrupted The Great Will and Testament. Before he had time to ask who it was, Ugo’s leering face appeared in the room.