When we reached the beach, a huge pit was dug in the side of a clayey bank and filled it with stones. In no time a roaring fire was burning in the pit. When it had turned to embers, and the stones glowed red, we hung the Maggon’s carcass from poles just above the pit, with layers of seaweed and bark piled on it. For the rest of the day, the massive chuck of meat roasted slowly in the heat and smoke, and the various scavenging parties contributed what they had found.
The ship’s cook brought out the Sticker Pickles and Guacamole Mollet that had been gathered, and Saber Tusk allowed three day’s ration of Sweeter’s Fiery Zest to be distributed. Such gigantic pots of Wild Salty Rice were never boiled before, nor had any beast seen such platters of Creamed Pineapple and Sweet Potatoes. The Pelting Balls, pulled from the river, broiled, and served on beds of coconut, were perhaps the best of it, except for some kind of broth that no one would own or identify, that was delicious with the Maggon meat.
But the roasted Maggon was the star of the feast. With a wonder-producing smell potent enough to make the strongest beast faint with joy, the meat tasted like the world’s best runny cheesecake spiced with something indescribable. The indescribable part depended on your taste. If you liked it, it was like raspberries soaked in honey-lemon. Those who hated it, claimed it tasted like sweaty socks filled with mushy onions. Truth be known, virtually every beast loved the Maggon. And, as special acknowledgement of its role in the feast, I was given a piece of the Maggon’s tail.