a kind of silk which is admirably
adapted for the making of bowstrings, for it is incredibly strong, does
not fray, and is not affected by damp. Now--"

"But how on earth do you come to know all this, Phil?" demanded Dick, as
he took one of the cocoons in his hand and examined it curiously.

"I cannot tell you," answered Stukely, rather impatiently; "let it
suffice you that I possess the knowledge, in some inscrutable way, ay,
and a good deal more, too, of which you are like to reap the benefit in
the long run."

He then proceeded to explain and illustrate how the silk was to be
unwound--a task which kept them both busy for several hours--and when
this was at length done he showed Dick how to spin the fine, tough
filament into a thin but immensely strong cord. But the most remarkable
part of the whole affair was the perfectly intimate knowledge which he
displayed of the various operations, none of which, be it remembered, he
had ever performed before. The unwinding of the cocoons and the
spinning of the cords--two for each bow--occupied the young men during
the remainder of that first day and the whole of the second, for the
process was a rather tedious and delicate one, in which Dick at least
exhibited all the inaptitude of the novice. The third and fourth days
were fully occupied in the cutting of reeds and the conversion of them
into arrows; and here again Stukely showed the same weird,
incomprehensible knowledge and skill that he had so conspicuously
displayed in his choice of the wood for the bows, his working of it to
the proper shape, and his manufacture of the bowstrings; for the arrows,
when finished, were as nearly perfect as such missiles could possibly
be, the shafts being of uniform length, perfectly straight, and each
tipped with a strong, hard thorn, sharp as a needle, and growing
naturally in the form of a barb. Two dozen arrows for each constituted
their initial equipment, but they cut a considerable quantity of spare
reeds and thorns, and wound quite a large skein of silk to bind the
barbed heads with, as they were quite prepared to lose several of their
arrows at the outset, and accordingly made ample provision for their
replacement, which could be done at odd moments, while working their way
up the river. Their next business was to plait two quivers of palm-leaf
fibre, with shoulder straps to support the same; and it was Stukely who
had to make these, for when Dick endeavoured to follow his f