Pitch, of a quality much harder and more bitter than that obtained from trees, is found on the reefs of Hispaniola.  It consequently serves better to protect ships against the gnawings of the worms called bromas, of which I have elsewhere spoken at length.  There are likewise two pitch-producing trees; one is the pine, and the other is called copeo.  I shall say nothing about pines, for they grow everywhere; but let us speak a little about the copeo tree, and give a few details about the pitch and the fruit it produces.  The pitch is obtained in the same manner as from pine-trees, though it is described as being gathered drop by drop from the burning wood.  As for the fruit, it is as small as a plum and quite good to eat; but it is the foliage of the trees which possesses a very special quality.  It is believed that this tree is the one whose leaves were used by the Chaldeans, the first inventors of writing, to convey their ideas to the absent before paper was invented.  The leaf is as large as a palm and almost round.  Using a needle or pin, or a sharp iron or wooden point, characters are traced upon it as easily as upon paper.

It is laughable to consider what the Spaniards have told the natives concerning these leaves.  These good people believe the leaves speak in obedience to the command of the Spaniards.  An islander had been sent by a Spaniard of Santo Domingo, the capital of Hispaniola, to one of his friends living in the interior of the colony.  The messenger likewise carried some roasted utias which, as we have said, are rabbits.  On the way, whether from hunger or greediness, he ate three; these animals not being larger than rats.  The friend wrote upon one of these leaves what he had received.  “Well, my man,” the master then said, “you are a fine lad in whom to put confidence!  So you have been so greedy as to eat the utias I gave you?” Trembling and amazed the native confessed his fault, but asked his master how he had discovered it.  The Spaniard replied:  “The leaf which you yourself have brought me has told me everything.  Moreover, you reached my friend’s house at such an hour and you left it at such another.”  In this way our people amuse themselves by mystifying these poor islanders, who think they are gods, with power to make the very leaves reveal what they believe to be secret.  Thus the news spread through the island that the leaves speak in response to a sign from the Spaniards; and this obliges the islanders to be very careful of whatever is confided to them.  Both sides of these leaves may be used for writing, just as is the case with our paper.  Such a leaf is thicker than a piece of paper folded in two, and is extraordinarily tough; so much so that when it is freshly plucked, the letters stand out white upon a green ground, but when it dries it becomes white and hard like a piece of wood, and then these characters change to yellow; but they remain indelible until it is burnt, never disappearing, even when the leaf is wet.