Then, when she had at length cleared a sufficient space she lighted her cooking fire, taking care to use only dry wood, and thus make but little smoke, after which she proceeded to the margin of the river and brought back a large lump of damp clay, pieces of which she broke off and completely encased the birds in, and this she did with considerable care, I noticed.  When she had completed her task, she consigned the whole to the fire, placing the shapeless lumps in the centre of the glowing embers, and piling more dry wood on the top, so as to maintain a brisk blaze.  In about half an hour the lumps of clay, baked hard by the heat, began to crack and break open, when Ama carefully raked them out of the embers and set them aside.  Then, and not until then, did she hail me, asking whether the expected pursuers were in sight; and upon my replying in the negative, she informed me that breakfast was ready, and invited me to come down and partake of it.  I felt somewhat curious to see how Ama's primitive style of cooking would turn out; but it was all right.  We simply broke open the lumps of baked clay with our spears and took out the birds--minus the skin and feathers, which adhered to the clay--and, splitting them open, removed the interior organs and devoured the flesh, which I found done to a turn, and particularly rich and juicy in flavour.  Then, after we had finished eating, Ama again disappeared, to return shortly afterward with four fine cocoa-nuts, which we opened with our spear-heads and drank.