Fritz was astonished; where was the sweet milk that Ernest had talked
of?

I told him the milk was only in the half-ripe nuts; that it thickened
and hardened as the nut ripened, becoming a kernel. This nut had
perished from remaining above ground. If it had been in the earth, it
would have vegetated, and burst the shell. I advised my son to try if he
could not find a perfect nut.

After some search, we found one, and sat down to eat it, keeping our own
provision for dinner. The nut was somewhat rancid; but we enjoyed it,
and then continued our journey. We were some time before we got through
the wood, being frequently obliged to clear a road for ourselves,
through the entangled brushwood, with our hatchets. At last we entered
the open plain again, and had a clear view before us. The forest still
extended about a stone's throw to our right, and Fritz, who was always
on the look-out for discoveries, observed a remarkable tree, here and
there, which he approached to examine; and he soon called me to see this
wonderful tree, with wens growing on the trunk.

On coming up, I was overjoyed to find this tree, of which there were a
great number, was the gourd-tree, which bears fruit on the trunk. Fritz
asked if these were sponges. I told him to bring me one, and I would
explain the mystery.

"There is one," said he, "very like a pumpkin, only harder outside."

"Of this shell," said I, "we can make plates, dishes, basins, and
flasks. We call it the gourd-tree."