THE CANOE-MAKER 127 



ending delight lay therein. That which his right hand 

 had found to do he did with all his might, his frail craft 

 being the admiration of all, while the confidence with 

 which others managed them proved their quality. 

 They toyed with the sea in its placid moods, and were 

 deferential in its ill-humour. But Cassowary never 

 ventured beyond easy hail from the shore, however 

 urgent the occasion or propitious the day. 



Fear also restricted his wanderings in the bush, 

 which kept him within sound of the dreaded waves. 

 He was an unaffected beach-comber. Neither the 

 food-bestowing sea nor the safe dry land was for him. 



By instinct he seemed to be guided to the best trees 

 for bark, generally selecting "gulgong," though others 

 were equally pliant in his hands. Raw from the tree, 

 he would soak the single sheet in water, and while 

 sodden steam it over a smoky fire, and, as it softened, 

 mould it with hand and knee. Bringing the edges of 

 the end designed for the stem into apposition, using a 

 device on the principle of the harness-maker's clamp, 

 he sewed them together with strips of freshly cut cane. 

 Two stretchers gave to the craft beam, and the neces- 

 sary sheer and thwart-ship stays of twisted cane stiffness. 

 Gunwales of cane were sewn on, the stitches being 

 cemented with gum made plastic by frequent renderings 

 over the fire on a flat stone, and then the canoe was 

 complete save for the hand-paddles, spoon-bowl-shaped 

 pieces of bark. 



Each canoe sat well down by the stern when the 

 fisherman knelt in it, crouching forward like a jockey 

 on the withers of his mount, and sending it along by 

 the alternate strokes. 



Cassowary was wont to scan each new work with the 

 tilted head of an artist. All the stitches were regularly 

 spaced, and since they were burnished with smoke, the 



