School is out for summer - Where are the children, what are they doing?”

By Maurice Williams

Summer time meant making catapults, a favourite weapon for bird hunting. It was made from the inner rubber tube which came with the tyres for motor vehicles. In those days there were no tubeless tyres, or scarcely any. The catapult or ‘pul’ was a basic instrument; two pieces of rubber about ¾ inches wide with length optional suited to user. The two pieces of rubber were tied securely to a V-shaped stick with a handle and then attached to the tongue, usually material of leather, about 2” x 2”. A smooth stone from the sea shore was the ammunition. The pul was as lethal a weapon as it was effective in the hands of a pro. There was always one youngster in every village who could shoot a dove in flight and then boast that he did it with his eyes closed. This was never established but there were marksmen as good as any agent in the modern day Special Forces. Almost every youngster had a catapult in his pocket. Some girls as well, and some were as competent as their opposite gender.

Hunting was carried out in groups of varying numbers and would start just after the break of dawn as soon as young boys had finished their morning chores of sweeping the yard, heading water from the village stand pipe, carrying out the animals etc., and then the group would  head out of the neighbourhood and be gone for several hours trampling over hill and gully but becoming very quiet at the appropriate moment, being always careful not to disturb the shrubbery in their wake as this would scare the doves away.

When one was seen perched in a tree on a limb overhead, a marksman or, at times, several of them, would take aim pointing their puls in that direction. And with the stone in the tongue, the rubber stretched to the fullest, the tongue was released, the bird falling to the ground with a slight thud. The doves were collected in a small bag and, if the clan was lucky, the day’s catch number would grow to a respectable figure before it was time to return to the neighbourhood where feathers would be plucked and the birds disemboweled. A fryer, usually a piece of ‘tinnin’, will be heated over a three-stone wood fire and the boys will sit around the fire soaking up the aroma.

On a bad day, when the hunt did not go well, one ground dove was shared between as many as ten boys. Everyone who went on the hunt, and sometimes others, included girls who joined the party, had to get a piece of fried ground dove. A thigh would be parted among three persons; the breast among four or five; and the neck, back and wing were eaten and thoroughly enjoyed. Nothing went to waste. Anyone who was fortunate to eat dove could give a rather tasteful testimony of its flavor, its mouth watering juices.
Nests were raided of their eggs, commodities which were in high demand for appropriate use as prescribed by popular legend in rushing boys and girls into puberty.

Shooting was complimented by making and setting traps, which were of several models; the most common and effective being the ‘bouncing’ and the ‘killeban’. The latter was made of pieces of sticks, each slightly longer than the other, held together by binding wire to resemble a house roof and was set by raising its front end a slight distance from the ground on a broken twig between which a trip chord was placed. The operation was complete by scattering dove food (thistle) under the raised trap and hoping that an unsuspecting mountain dove or its smaller relative would stray under in search of food and trip the chord, covering itself in the process. It was a common occurrence for groups to keep the traps under surveillance for long hours, waiting for a catch. This was far more effective and more humane than the bouncing trap which consisted of a flexible stick, usually from the clammy cherry tree, bent over and secured to a trip wire to which a noose encircling thistle was attached. The neighbours’ fowls sometimes strayed out of bounds into sudden death. The doves caught in traps were not all eaten, many were reared in locally made cages and fed with rice borrowed from the kitchen.
When children were not bird hunting, they were ‘looking’ guava, sugar and custard apples, Barbados cherry or the many varieties of fruit hanging from trees everywhere and begging to be picked. Both girls and boys participated in this activity, but girls were never allowed to climb a tree. This was an unwritten law. It was a widely held belief that such an act would make the fruit sour. Nobody explained why. Girls stayed planted firmly on the ground to either catch or pick the fruits up. When there was not enough fruit to go around, everybody got ‘a bite’ of guava, mango or ‘a peg’ of apple, tamarind or something. Caring for each other and sharing were the unwritten core values.

Making and spinning tops was another favourite past-time of the summer holidays. Many guava trees had their demise in the name of this toy. After carefully selecting a branch, one end was shaved into a cone-like shape with a sharp knife that one had stealthily removed from the kitchen with the hope of having it returned before it was required for use for the peeling of ground provision, or the culprit will be caught unawares with a yard-broom on his back; the same broom used to sweep the yard.  Having cut the shaved portion about a half inch above the cone, the top of it will be rounded and smoothed to a desired shape. The process will be completed by driving a nail into the tip of the cone, removing the head and filing the tip. Top making with a sharp knife left many a child with bloodied hands and fingers, some requiring ‘stitches’ at the hospital.

Spinning the top required no particular set of skills. All it took was a strong chord. One end tied to an object which was held securely, like a short piece of stick, and the other tied into a knot two inches above the frayed. The chord is then wrapped tightly from the tip of the nail all the way around the body of the top, held in one hand raised above the head and the arm brought swiftly down in one flowing motion, retaining the chord but releasing the top. There were jumping tops, sleeping tops and tops that ran around in circles and hard to catch. Many hours of fierce battles of top-over were fought from which many tops did not survive; others disfigured beyond recognition.
Children made ‘spinners’ by flattening bottle caps, through which two holes about a half inch apart were pierced; string was pulled through, tied into a knot and placed over the index fingers  on both hands.

Children used to ‘ketch’ crabs by pouring water in the holes, and when the crabs attempted to escape, ‘chakking’ (placing a barrier to prevent the crab from retreating to its home). Some children were not as quick to develop the skill of holding a crab. It was very amusing to be a spectator, cracking up in stitches to see your friend screaming in pain with the claw of a crab gripping his finger. Children used to catch butterflies and bees, the latter shut away in a match box to become a music radio.
Children made cars and carts, ironman (mechanical harvesters) cranes and tractors from discarded pieces of board and the palms of the date tree, using the sand box for wheels.

Children used to ‘run’ wheels and tyres and ‘see stars’ when they stumped their big toe in the process, after which no other toe than the injured one ever collided with an object. They always hurt their stumped toe and see stars over and over again. It was common in those days to hear a parent cautioning…“Mine, go si’dung pon you toe, chil’ren who nuh hear wha marmy say suck pepper, lime and salt.”

Children played ‘hands in’ and ‘green bush’ in which two or more persons agreed to have one hand in the pocket at all times or to have a green bush conspicuously placed on the clothing. The object of these games was to catch someone breaking the rule.

Participants (cooped) sneaked up on each other and surprised the offender with by a clenched fist in the back or a whip across the buttock; depending on the weapon of choice. These were not games for the feint hearted. Many friendships were temporarily ended. In those days children used to fallout but not for long. In order to get out of the game, a victim who could take no more blows, had to ‘blow out’ the aggressor.

Children threw stones at ‘jackspanner’ nests and got stung in the process. Some children were stung more than once and every summer.

Curfews were extended. In the evening children played hoop and ring games such as man o’ war and me nuh goin dung yonder. They enjoyed solving riddles and puzzles. They congregated under lamp posts and told jumbie stories. When it was time to go home, this was always a sobering experience.

Everybody was suddenly afraid, especially if there was a recent death in the village or a cemetery had to be passed on the way home. Jumbies used to follow children to their parents’ homes regularly. When this occurred, the house suddenly became very hot.

Getting rid of the jumbie from the house required the person followed to go outside and re-enter backwards. This was to mislead the jumbie into believing that the person followed had left. Jumbie stories used to be a great thrill while they were being told, especially as happened often when there were elders in the group. Talk about embellishing! Some of these brave warriors told impressive tales about staking down jumbies and beating them, about going to the cemetery at midnight and getting spirits from the grave. The elders talked about ghosts, jack-a-lantern and soucoyant and people who used to take off their skin in the night, transforming themselves into animals.

Not very long ago, summer time presented parents with the opportunity to observe their children close up, supervising themselves in meaningful activities. They did worry unduly about their children’s whereabouts. They knew their children were safe. There were no gangs and violence but fun, clean fun. The villages were closely connected and children had a close connection to the villages and to their elders. Everyone looked out for each other.