This is a modern-English version of The Swiss Family Robinson; or Adventures in a Desert Island, originally written by Wyss, Johann David. It has been thoroughly updated, including changes to sentence structure, words, spelling, and grammar—to ensure clarity for contemporary readers, while preserving the original spirit and nuance. If you click on a paragraph, you will see the original text that we modified, and you can toggle between the two versions.

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“Our first care was to kneel down and thank God, to whom we owed our lives.”


“Our first priority was to kneel and thank God, to whom we owe our lives.”

THE
SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON;
OR,
or

ADVENTURES
Adventures

IN
IN

A DESERT ISLAND.
A deserted island.


WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS BY JOHN GILBERT.
[Frontspiece] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]



CONTENTS

[Preface] [Introduction]
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]
[11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]
[21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30]
[31] [32] [33] [34] [35] [36] [37] [38] [39] [40]
[41] [42] [43] [44] [45] [46] [47] [48] [49] [50]
[51] [52] [53] [54] [55] [56] [57]
[Conclusion] [Postscript]

PREFACE.

Many years ago, an English translation of the first part of this charming tale appeared; and few books have obtained such deserved popularity. The gradual progress of the family from utter destitution and misery, to happiness and abundance, arising from their own labour, perseverance, and obedience, together with the effect produced on the different characters of the sons by the stirring adventures they met with, created a deep and absorbing interest. Every young reader patronized either the noble Fritz, the studious Ernest, or the generous Jack, and regarded him as a familiar personal acquaintance. The book had but one defect—the death of the talented author left it unfinished, and every reader regretted its abrupt termination.

Many years ago, an English translation of the first part of this charming story was published, and few books have enjoyed such well-deserved popularity. The family's gradual rise from complete poverty and suffering to happiness and abundance, thanks to their own hard work, determination, and willingness to follow rules, along with the impact of the exciting adventures the sons experienced, created a deep and captivating interest. Every young reader felt a connection with either the noble Fritz, the studious Ernest, or the generous Jack, seeing them as familiar friends. The book had only one flaw—the talented author’s untimely death left it unfinished, leaving every reader wishing for more.

This conclusion was happily supplied by one of the most accomplished and elegant writers of her day, the Baroness de Montolieu; and, sanctioned and approved by the son of the lamented author, the entire work was published in France, and has for many years held a distinguished rank in the juvenile libraries there. For the gratification of a little family circle, this now appears in English; and as, on examining the first part in the original, it was found, that “some new discoveries might be made,” it was thought best to re-translate it, subduing the tone of the whole to English taste. The unanimous voices of the beloved circle, for whom the pleasant task was undertaken, have pronounced the result to be eminently successful, and they generously wish, that the whole of the juvenile public of England should share in their satisfaction, and possess a complete Swiss Robinson.

This conclusion was happily provided by one of the most skilled and graceful writers of her time, the Baroness de Montolieu; and, endorsed and approved by the son of the late author, the entire work was published in France, where it has proudly occupied a prominent place in children's libraries for many years. For the enjoyment of a small family circle, this is now available in English; and since it was discovered upon reviewing the first part in the original that “some new discoveries might be made,” it was decided to re-translate it, adjusting the tone to suit English preferences. The collective opinion of the cherished circle, for whom this enjoyable task was undertaken, has declared the outcome to be highly successful, and they graciously hope that the entire young audience of England can share in their delight and have a complete Swiss Robinson.


INTRODUCTION.

It is very well known that, some years ago, Counsellor Horner, a Swiss, made a voyage round the world in the Russian vessel Le Podesda, commanded by Capt. Krusenstern. They discovered many islands, and, amongst others, one very large and fertile, till then unknown to navigators, to the S.W. of Java, near the coast of New Guinea. They landed here, and to the great surprise of Mr. Horner, he was received by a family who spoke to him in German. They were a father and mother, and four robust and hardy sons.

It’s widely known that a few years ago, Counselor Horner, a Swiss, traveled around the world on the Russian ship Le Podesda, which was captained by Krusenstern. They discovered many islands, including one very large and fertile island that had previously been unknown to sailors, located to the southwest of Java, near the coast of New Guinea. When they landed there, Mr. Horner was surprised to be welcomed by a family that spoke to him in German. The family consisted of a father, a mother, and four strong and healthy sons.

Their history was very interesting. The father was a Swiss clergyman, who, in the Revolution of 1798, had lost all his fortune, and had determined to emigrate, in order to seek elsewhere the means of supporting his family. He went first to England, with his wife and children, consisting of four sons, between the ages of twelve and five. He there undertook the office of missionary to Otaheite; not that he intended to remain on that uncivilized island, but he wished to proceed from thence to Port Jackson as a free colonist. He invested his little capital in seeds of every description, and some cattle, to take out with him. They had a prosperous voyage till they were near the coast of New Guinea, when they were overtaken by a frightful storm. At this period he commenced his journal, which he afterwards committed to the care of Mr. Horner, to be forwarded to his friends in Switzerland.

Their history is quite fascinating. The father was a Swiss clergyman who, during the Revolution of 1798, lost all his wealth and decided to emigrate to find a way to support his family. He first went to England with his wife and their four sons, who were between the ages of twelve and five. There, he took on a role as a missionary to Otaheite; he didn’t plan to stay on that uncivilized island but wanted to move on to Port Jackson as a free colonist. He invested his small savings in various seeds and some cattle to take with him. They had a smooth voyage until they neared the coast of New Guinea, when they were hit by a terrible storm. At this point, he began his journal, which he later entrusted to Mr. Horner to be sent to his friends in Switzerland.

Some time before, a boat from an English vessel, the Adventurer, had visited them, and the father had sent the first part of his journal by Lieut. Bell to the captain, who remained in the vessel. A violent tempest arose, which continued some days, and drove the Adventurer from the coast. The family concluded the ship was lost; but this was not the case, as will be seen in the conclusion.

Some time ago, a boat from an English ship, the Adventurer, had come to see them, and the father had sent the first part of his journal with Lieut. Bell to the captain, who stayed with the ship. A fierce storm came up, which lasted for several days, and pushed the Adventurer away from the coast. The family thought the ship was gone; however, that was not true, as will be revealed in the conclusion.




THE
SWISS FAMILY ROBINSON.


CHAPTER I.

The tempest had raged for six days, and on the seventh seemed to increase. The ship had been so far driven from its course, that no one on board knew where we were. Every one was exhausted with fatigue and watching. The shattered vessel began to leak in many places, the oaths of the sailors were changed to prayers, and each thought only how to save his own life. “Children,” said I, to my terrified boys, who were clinging round me, “God can save us if he will. To him nothing is impossible; but if he thinks it good to call us to him, let us not murmur; we shall not be separated.” My excellent wife dried her tears, and from that moment became more tranquil. We knelt down to pray for the help of our Heavenly Father; and the fervour and emotion of my innocent boys proved to me that even children can pray, and find in prayer consolation and peace.

The storm had raged for six days, and on the seventh, it seemed to get worse. The ship had been pushed so far off course that no one on board knew where we were. Everyone was worn out from fatigue and keeping watch. The damaged vessel started to leak in several places, and the sailors' curses turned into prayers, each focused solely on how to save their own lives. “Kids,” I said to my frightened boys, who were clinging to me, “God can save us if He wants to. Nothing is impossible for Him; but if He thinks it’s better to bring us to Him, let’s not complain; we won’t be separated.” My wonderful wife wiped away her tears and from that moment became calmer. We knelt to pray for the help of our Heavenly Father; and the intensity and emotion of my innocent boys showed me that even children can pray and find comfort and peace in prayer.

We rose from our knees strengthened to bear the afflictions that hung over us. Suddenly we heard amid the roaring of the waves the cry of “Land! land!” At that moment the ship struck on a rock; the concussion threw us down. We heard a loud cracking, as if the vessel was parting asunder; we felt that we were aground, and heard the captain cry, in a tone of despair, “We are lost! Launch the boats!” These words were a dagger to my heart, and the lamentations of my children were louder than ever. I then recollected myself, and said, “Courage, my darlings, we are still, above water, and the land is near. God helps those who trust in him. Remain here, and I will endeavour to save us.”

We got up from our knees, feeling stronger to face the challenges ahead. Suddenly, through the crashing waves, we heard someone shout, “Land! Land!” In that instant, the ship hit a rock; the impact knocked us down. We heard a loud crack, like the ship was breaking apart; we realized we had run aground, and heard the captain shout in despair, “We're doomed! Launch the boats!” Those words pierced my heart, and my children’s cries grew louder. I then gathered my thoughts and said, “Stay strong, my darlings, we’re still above water, and land is close. God helps those who have faith in Him. Stay here, and I’ll do my best to save us.”

I went on deck, and was instantly thrown down, and wet through by a huge sea; a second followed. I struggled boldly with the waves, and succeeded in keeping myself up, when I saw, with terror, the extent of our wretchedness. The shattered vessel was almost in two; the crew had crowded into the boats, and the last sailor was cutting the rope. I cried out, and prayed them to take us with them; but my voice was drowned in the roar of the tempest, nor could they have returned for us through waves that ran mountains high. All hope from their assistance was lost; but I was consoled by observing that the water did not enter the ship above a certain height. The stern, under which lay the cabin which contained all that was dear to me on earth, was immovably fixed between two rocks. At the same time I observed, towards the south, traces of land, which, though wild and barren, was now the haven of my almost expiring hopes; no longer being able to depend on any human aid. I returned to my family, and endeavoured to appear calm. “Take courage,” cried I, “there is yet hope for us; the vessel, in striking between the rocks, is fixed in a position which protects our cabin above the water, and if the wind should settle to-morrow, we may possibly reach the land.”

I went out on deck and was immediately knocked down and drenched by a huge wave; another one followed. I fought hard against the waves and managed to keep myself afloat when I saw, in horror, how dire our situation was. The ship was nearly split in two; the crew had all crowded into the lifeboats, and the last sailor was cutting the rope. I shouted and begged them to take us with them, but my voice was drowned out by the sound of the storm, and there was no way they could have come back for us through the towering waves. All hope of their help was gone; however, I found some comfort in noticing that the water didn’t rise above a certain level in the ship. The stern, where the cabin with everything I cherished on earth was, was stuck firmly between two rocks. At the same time, I saw signs of land to the south, which, although wild and barren, was now the only glimmer of hope I had left, since I could no longer rely on any human help. I went back to my family and tried to stay calm. “Stay strong,” I said, “there is still hope for us; the ship, by striking between the rocks, is lodged in a position that keeps our cabin above water, and if the wind calms down by tomorrow, we might be able to reach the land.”

This assurance calmed my children, and as usual, they depended on all I told them; they rejoiced that the heaving of the vessel had ceased, as, while it lasted, they were continually thrown against each other. My wife, more accustomed to read my countenance, discovered my uneasiness; and by a sign, I explained to her that I had lost all hope. I felt great consolation in seeing that she supported our misfortune with truly Christian resignation.

This reassurance eased my kids' worries, and as always, they trusted everything I told them; they were happy that the rocking of the boat had stopped, since while it was happening, they kept bumping into each other. My wife, more familiar with reading my face, noticed my distress; and with a gesture, I indicated to her that I had lost all hope. I found great comfort in seeing that she was dealing with our misfortune with genuine Christian acceptance.

“Let us take some food,” said she; “with the body, the mind is strengthened; this must be a night of trial.”

“Let’s eat something,” she said; “the body strengthens the mind; this is going to be a challenging night.”

Night came, and the tempest continued its fury; tearing away the planks from the devoted vessel with a fearful crashing. It appeared absolutely impossible that the boats could have out-lived the storm.

Night fell, and the storm raged on; violently ripping the boards from the struggling ship with a terrifying sound. It seemed completely impossible that the boats could have survived the tempest.

My wife had prepared some refreshment, of which the children partook with an appetite that we could not feel. The three younger ones retired to their beds, and soon slept soundly. Fritz, the eldest, watched with me. “I have been considering,” said he, “how we could save ourselves. If we only had some cork jackets, or bladders, for mamma and my brothers, you and I don’t need them, we could then swim to land.”

My wife had made some snacks that the kids ate with an appetite we couldn’t relate to. The three youngest went to bed and quickly fell asleep. Fritz, the oldest, stayed up with me. “I’ve been thinking about how we could save ourselves,” he said. “If we just had some cork jackets or bladders for Mom and my brothers—we don’t need them, you and I—we could swim to shore.”

“A good thought,” said I, “I will try during the night to contrive some expedient to secure our safety.” We found some small empty barrels in the cabin, which we tied two together with our handkerchiefs, leaving a space between for each child; and fastened this new swimming apparatus under their arms. My wife prepared the same for herself. We then collected some knives, string, tinder-box, and such little necessaries as we could put in our pockets; thus, in case the vessel should fall to pieces during the night, we hoped we might be enabled to reach land.

“A good idea,” I said, “I’ll try to come up with a plan to keep us safe during the night.” We found some small empty barrels in the cabin, which we tied together with our handkerchiefs, leaving a space in between for each child; then we secured this new swimming aid under their arms. My wife got the same setup for herself. We then gathered some knives, string, a tinderbox, and any other small essentials we could fit in our pockets; this way, if the ship fell apart during the night, we hoped we could reach land.

At length Fritz, overcome with fatigue, lay down and slept with his brothers. My wife and I, too anxious to rest, spent that dreadful night in prayer, and in arranging various plans. How gladly we welcomed the light of day, shining through an opening. The wind was subsiding, the sky serene, and I watched the sun rise with renewed hope. I called my wife and children on deck. The younger ones were surprised to find we were alone. They inquired what had become of the sailors, and how we should manage the ship alone.

Finally, Fritz, completely exhausted, lay down and fell asleep with his brothers. My wife and I, too worried to rest, spent that long night in prayer and brainstorming different plans. How happily we welcomed the morning light streaming through an opening. The wind was calming down, the sky clear, and I watched the sun rise with renewed hope. I called my wife and kids on deck. The younger ones were surprised to see that we were alone. They asked what happened to the sailors and how we would manage the ship by ourselves.

“Children,” said I, “one more powerful than man has protected us till now, and will still extend a saving arm to us, if we do not give way to complaint and despair. Let all hands set to work. Remember that excellent maxim, God helps those who help themselves. Let us all consider what is best to do now.”

“Kids,” I said, “someone more powerful than us has kept us safe until now, and will continue to support us if we don’t give in to complaining and hopelessness. Everyone, let’s get to work. Remember that great saying, God helps those who help themselves. Let’s all think about the best actions we can take right now.”

“Let us leap into the sea,” cried Fritz, “and swim to the shore.”

“Let’s jump into the sea,” shouted Fritz, “and swim to the shore.”

“Very well for you,” replied Ernest, “who can swim; but we should be all drowned. Would it not be better to construct a raft and go all together?”

“That's great for you,” replied Ernest, “who can swim; but we would all drown. Wouldn't it be better to build a raft and all go together?”

“That might do,” added I, “if we were strong enough for such a work, and if a raft was not always so dangerous a conveyance. But away, boys, look about you, and seek for anything that may be useful to us.”

“That might work,” I said, “if we were strong enough for it and if a raft wasn’t always such a risky way to get around. But come on, guys, look around and find anything that might be useful to us.”

We all dispersed to different parts of the vessel. For my own part I went to the provision-room, to look after the casks of water and other necessaries of life; my wife visited the live stock and fed them, for they were almost famished; Fritz sought for arms and ammunition; Ernest for the carpenter’s tools. Jack had opened the captain’s cabin, and was immediately thrown down by two large dogs, who leaped on him so roughly that he cried out as if they were going to devour him. However, hunger had rendered them so docile that they licked his hands, and he soon recovered his feet, seized the largest by the ears, and mounting his back, gravely rode up to me as I was coming from the hold. I could not help laughing; I applauded his courage; but recommended him always to be prudent with animals of that kind, who are often dangerous when hungry.

We all went our separate ways around the ship. I headed to the supply room to check on the barrels of water and other essentials; my wife checked on the livestock and fed them since they were nearly starving; Fritz looked for weapons and ammo; Ernest searched for the carpenter’s tools. Jack had opened the captain’s cabin, but he was immediately knocked down by two large dogs that jumped on him so roughly he yelled as if they were about to eat him. However, their hunger made them surprisingly gentle, and they started licking his hands. He quickly got back up, grabbed the biggest one by the ears, and climbed onto its back, riding up to me as I was coming from the hold. I couldn’t help but laugh; I praised his bravery but advised him to always be careful around animals like that, as they can be dangerous when they’re hungry.

My little troop began to assemble. Fritz had found two fowling-pieces, some bags of powder and shot, and some balls, in horn flasks. Ernest was loaded with an axe and hammer, a pair of pincers, a large pair of scissors, and an auger showed itself half out of his pocket.

My little group started to gather. Fritz had discovered two shotguns, some bags of gunpowder and shot, and a few balls in horn flasks. Ernest was carrying an axe and hammer, a pair of pliers, a large pair of scissors, and an auger that was sticking out of his pocket.

Francis had a large box under his arm, from which he eagerly produced what he called little pointed hooks. His brothers laughed at his prize. “Silence,” said I, “the youngest has made the most valuable addition to our stores. These are fish-hooks, and may be more useful for the preservation of our lives than anything the ship contains. However, Fritz and Ernest have not done amiss.”

Francis had a big box under his arm, from which he eagerly took out what he called little pointed hooks. His brothers laughed at his catch. “Quiet,” I said, “the youngest has added the most valuable item to our supplies. These are fish hooks, and they could be more important for our survival than anything else on the ship. Still, Fritz and Ernest have done well too.”

“For my part,” said my wife, “I only contribute good news; I have found a cow, an ass, two goats, six sheep, and a sow with young. I have fed them, and hope we may preserve them.”

“For my part,” said my wife, “I only bring good news; I found a cow, a donkey, two goats, six sheep, and a young pig. I've taken care of them, and I hope we can keep them safe.”

“Very well,” said I to my little workmen, “I am satisfied with all but Master Jack, who, instead of anything useful, has contributed two great eaters, who will do us more harm than good.”

“Alright,” I said to my little workers, “I’m happy with everyone except for Master Jack, who, instead of anything useful, has brought us two big eaters that will do us more harm than good.”

“They can help us to hunt when we get to land,” said Jack.

“They can help us hunt when we get to land,” said Jack.

“Yes,” replied I, “but can you devise any means of our getting there?”

“Yes,” I replied, “but can you come up with a way for us to get there?”

“It does not seem at all difficult,” said the spirited little fellow; “put us each into a great tub, and let us float to shore. I remember sailing capitally that way on godpapa’s great pond at S—.”

“It doesn't seem difficult at all,” said the lively little guy; “just put each of us in a big tub, and let us float to shore. I remember sailing really well that way on godpapa’s big pond at S—.”

“A very good idea, Jack; good counsel may sometimes be given even by a child. Be quick, boys, give me the saw and auger, with some nails, we will see what we can do.” I remembered seeing some empty casks in the hold. We went down and found them floating. This gave us less difficulty in getting them upon the lower deck, which was but just above the water. They were of strong wood, bound with iron hoops, and exactly suited my purpose; my sons and I therefore began to saw them through the middle. After long labour, we had eight tubs all the same height. We refreshed ourselves with wine and biscuit, which we had found in some of the casks. I then contemplated with delight my little squadron of boats ranged in a line; and was surprised that my wife still continued depressed. She looked mournfully on them. “I can never venture in one of these tubs,” said she.

“A great idea, Jack; even a child can sometimes offer good advice. Hurry up, boys, hand me the saw and auger, along with some nails, and let’s see what we can create.” I remembered seeing some empty barrels in the hold. We went downstairs and found them floating. This made it easier to get them onto the lower deck, which was just above the water. They were made of sturdy wood, reinforced with iron hoops, and perfectly suited for what I needed; so my sons and I began to saw them in half. After a lot of effort, we ended up with eight tubs all the same height. We treated ourselves to some wine and biscuits that we found in a few of the barrels. Then I happily admired my little fleet of boats lined up neatly, and I was surprised that my wife still seemed downcast. She looked sadly at them. “I can never bring myself to step into one of these tubs,” she said.

“Wait a little, till my work is finished,” replied I, “and you will see it is more to be depended on than this broken vessel.”

“Just wait a bit until I’m done with my work,” I replied, “and you’ll see it’s more reliable than this broken vessel.”

I sought out a long flexible plank, and arranged eight tubs on it, close to each other, leaving a piece at each end to form a curve upwards, like the keel of a vessel. We then nailed them firmly to the plank, and to each other. We nailed a plank at each side, of the same length as the first, and succeeded in producing a sort of boat, divided into eight compartments, in which it did not appear difficult to make a short voyage, over a calm sea.

I looked for a long, flexible board and lined up eight tubs on it, keeping them close together and leaving some space at each end to curve up, like a boat's keel. We then nailed them securely to the board and to each other. We nailed another board on each side, the same length as the first, and managed to create what resembled a boat divided into eight sections, which didn't seem hard to use for a short trip on a calm sea.

But, unluckily, our wonderful vessel proved so heavy, that our united efforts could not move it an inch. I sent Fritz to bring me the jack-screw, and, in the mean time, sawed a thick round pole into pieces; then raising the fore-part of our work by means of the powerful machine, Fritz placed one of these rollers under it.

But unfortunately, our amazing ship was so heavy that we couldn't move it at all. I had Fritz get the jack-screw for me, and in the meantime, I sawed a thick round pole into pieces. After raising the front part of our work with the powerful machine, Fritz placed one of these rollers underneath it.

Ernest was very anxious to know how this small machine could accomplish more than our united strength. I explained to him, as well as I could, the power of the lever of Archimedes, with which he had declared he could move the world, if he had but a point to rest it on; and I promised my son to take the machine to pieces when we were on shore, and explain the mode of operation. I then told them that God, to compensate for the weakness of man, had bestowed on him reason, invention, and skill in workmanship. The result of these had produced a science which, under the name of Mechanics, taught us to increase and extend our limited powers incredibly by the aid of instruments.

Ernest was really eager to understand how this small machine could do more than all our strength combined. I tried to explain to him the power of Archimedes' lever, which he said could move the world if he had just a point to pivot on. I promised my son that I would take apart the machine when we got to shore and show him how it worked. I then told them that God, to make up for human weakness, gave us reason, creativity, and skill in crafting things. The result of these gifts led to a science called Mechanics, which teaches us how to greatly enhance and extend our limited abilities using tools.

Jack remarked that the jack-screw worked very slowly.

Jack noted that the jack-screw operated really slowly.

“Better slowly, than not at all,” said I. “It is a principle in mechanics, that what is gained in time is lost in power. The jack is not meant to work rapidly, but to raise heavy weights; and the heavier the weight, the slower the operation. But, can you tell me how we can make up for this slowness?”

“Better slow than not at all,” I said. “There’s a principle in mechanics that says what you gain in time, you lose in power. A jack isn’t meant to work quickly, but to lift heavy loads; and the heavier the load, the slower it works. So, can you tell me how we can make up for this slowness?”

“Oh, by turning the handle quicker, to be sure!”

“Oh, of course, by turning the handle faster!”

“Quite wrong; that would not aid us at all. Patience and Reason are the two fairies, by whose potent help I hope to get our boat afloat.”

“Totally wrong; that wouldn't help us at all. Patience and Reason are the two fairies that I believe will help us get our boat afloat.”

I quickly proceeded to tie a strong cord to the after-part of it, and the other end to a beam in the ship, which was still firm, leaving it long enough for security; then introducing two more rollers underneath, and working with the jack, we succeeded in launching our bark, which passed into the water with such velocity, that but for our rope it would have gone out to sea. Unfortunately, it leaned so much on one side, that none of the boys would venture into it. I was in despair, when I suddenly remembered it only wanted ballast to keep it in equilibrium. I hastily threw in anything I got hold of that was heavy, and soon had my boat level, and ready for occupation. They now contended who should enter first; but I stopped them, reflecting that these restless children might easily capsize our vessel. I remembered that savage nations made use of an out-rigger, to prevent their canoe oversetting, and this I determined to add to my work. I fixed two portions of a topsail-yard, one over the prow, the other across the stern, in such a manner that they should not be in the way in pushing off our boat from the wreck. I forced the end of each yard into the bunghole of an empty brandy-cask, to keep them steady during our progress.

I quickly tied a strong rope to the back of the boat and attached the other end to a beam in the ship, which was still solid, leaving enough slack for security. Then, I added two more rollers underneath and, using the jack, we managed to launch our boat. It shot into the water so fast that if it weren't for our rope, it would have drifted out to sea. Unfortunately, it tilted so much that none of the boys would get in. I was feeling hopeless when I suddenly remembered it just needed some weight to balance it out. I quickly tossed in anything heavy I could find and soon had the boat level and ready for use. They started arguing about who should go in first, but I stopped them, thinking that these restless kids could easily tip the boat over. I remembered that primitive tribes used an outrigger to stabilize their canoes, so I decided to add something similar to my design. I attached two parts of a topsail yard, one over the front and the other across the back, making sure they wouldn't get in the way when we pushed off from the wreck. I shoved the end of each yard into the bunghole of an empty brandy barrel to keep them steady while we moved.

It was now necessary to clear the way for our departure. I got into the first tub, and managed to get the boat into the cleft in the ship’s side, by way of a haven; I then returned, and, with the axe and saw, cut away right and left all that could obstruct our passage. Then we secured some oars, to be ready for our voyage next day.

It was now essential to make room for our departure. I climbed into the first boat and managed to guide it into the opening in the ship's side, like a harbor. Then I went back and, with the axe and saw, cleared away everything that could block our way. Next, we gathered some oars to prepare for our journey the following day.

The day had passed in toil, and we were compelled to spend another night on the wreck, though we knew it might not remain till morning. We took a regular meal, for during the day we had scarcely had time to snatch a morsel of bread and a glass of wine. More composed than on the preceding night, we retired to rest. I took the precaution to fasten the swimming apparatus across the shoulders of my three younger children and my wife, for fear another storm might destroy the vessel, and cast us into the sea. I also advised my wife to put on a sailor’s dress, as more convenient for her expected toils and trials. She reluctantly consented, and, after a short absence, appeared in the dress of a youth who had served as a volunteer in the vessel. She felt very timid and awkward in her new dress; but I showed her the advantage of the change, and, at last, she was reconciled, and joined in the laughter of the children at her strange disguise. She then got into her hammock, and we enjoyed a pleasant sleep, to prepare us for new labours.

The day had gone by in hard work, and we had to spend another night on the wreck, even though we knew it might not last until morning. We had a proper meal because during the day we had barely had time to grab a bit of bread and a glass of wine. More settled than the night before, we went to bed. I made sure to fasten the flotation devices on my three younger kids and my wife, worried that another storm might wreck the boat and throw us into the sea. I also suggested that my wife wear a sailor’s outfit, thinking it would be more practical for the challenges ahead. She reluctantly agreed, and after a brief absence, she returned dressed like a young man who had volunteered on the ship. She felt very shy and awkward in her new clothes, but I pointed out the benefits of the change, and eventually, she warmed up to it and laughed with the kids about her funny disguise. She then settled into her hammock, and we had a good night’s sleep to prepare for the challenges to come.


CHAPTER II.

At break of day we were awake and ready, and after morning prayer, I addressed my children thus: “We are now, my dear boys, with the help of God, about to attempt our deliverance. Before we go, provide our poor animals with food for some days: we cannot take them with us, but if our voyage succeed, we may return for them. Are you ready? Collect what you wish to carry away, but only things absolutely necessary for our actual wants.” I planned that our first cargo should consist of a barrel of powder, three fowling-pieces, three muskets, two pair of pocket pistols, and one pair larger, ball, shot, and lead as much as we could carry, with a bullet-mould; and I wished each of my sons, as well as their mother, should have a complete game-bag, of which there were several in the officers’ cabins. We then set apart a box of portable soup, another of biscuit, an iron pot, a fishing-rod, a chest of nails, and one of carpenter’s tools, also some sailcloth to make a tent. In fact my boys collected so many things, we were compelled to leave some behind, though I exchanged all the useless ballast for necessaries.

At dawn, we were awake and ready, and after our morning prayer, I spoke to my kids like this: “Now, my dear boys, with God's help, we’re about to try for our freedom. Before we leave, make sure our poor animals have enough food for a few days. We can’t take them with us, but if our journey goes well, we can come back for them. Are you ready? Gather what you want to take, but only the things we absolutely need.” I planned for our first load to include a barrel of gunpowder, three shotguns, three muskets, two pairs of pocket pistols, a larger pair, as much shot, lead, and ball as we could carry, along with a bullet mold. I wanted each of my sons and their mother to have a complete game bag, of which there were several in the officers’ cabins. We also set aside a box of portable soup, another of biscuits, an iron pot, a fishing rod, a chest of nails, one of carpentry tools, and some sailcloth to make a tent. In fact, my boys gathered so many things that we had to leave some behind, although I traded all the unnecessary ballast for essentials.

When all was ready, we implored the blessing of God on our undertaking, and prepared to embark in our tubs. At this moment the cocks crowed a sort of reproachful farewell to us; we had forgotten them; I immediately proposed to take our poultry with us, geese, ducks, fowls and pigeons, for, as I observed to my wife, if we could not feed them, they would, at any rate, feed us. We placed our ten hens and two cocks in a covered tub; the rest we set at liberty, hoping the geese and ducks might reach the shore by water, and the pigeons by flight.

When everything was ready, we asked for God's blessing on our venture and got ready to set off in our tubs. At that moment, the roosters crowed a kind of reproachful goodbye; we had forgotten about them. I quickly suggested that we take our poultry with us—geese, ducks, chickens, and pigeons—because, as I told my wife, if we couldn't feed them, they could at least feed us. We put our ten hens and two roosters in a covered tub; the rest we set free, hoping the geese and ducks would make it to shore by swimming, and the pigeons by flying.

We waited a little for my wife, who came loaded with a large bag, which she threw into the tub that contained her youngest son. I concluded it was intended to steady him, or for a seat, and made no observation on it. Here follows the order of our embarkation. In the first division, sat the tender mother, the faithful and pious wife. In the second, our amiable little Francis, six years old, and of a sweet disposition.

We waited a bit for my wife, who arrived carrying a large bag that she tossed into the tub with our youngest son in it. I figured it was either to help support him or serve as a seat, so I didn't say anything about it. Here’s how we got on board. In the first group sat the caring mother, the loyal and loving wife. In the second group was our adorable little Francis, who was six years old and had a charming personality.

In the third, Fritz, our eldest, fourteen or fifteen years old, a curly-headed, clever, intelligent and lively youth.

In the third, Fritz, our oldest, around fourteen or fifteen years old, is a curly-haired, smart, intelligent, and lively young man.

In the fourth, the powder-cask, with the fowls and the sailcloth.

In the fourth, the powder keg, with the chickens and the sailcloth.

Our provisions filled the fifth.

Our supplies filled the fifth.

In the sixth, our heedless Jack, ten years old, enterprising, bold, and useful.

In the sixth, our oblivious Jack, ten years old, adventurous, daring, and helpful.

In the seventh, Ernest, twelve years of age, well-informed and rational, but somewhat selfish and indolent. In the eighth, myself, an anxious father, charged with the important duty of guiding the vessel to save my dear family. Each of us had some useful tools beside us; each held an oar, and had a swimming apparatus at hand, in case we were unfortunately upset. The tide was rising when we left, which I considered might assist my weak endeavours. We turned our out-riggers length-ways, and thus passed from the cleft of the ship into the open sea. We rowed with all our might, to reach the blue land we saw at a distance, but for some time in vain, as the boat kept turning round, and made no progress. At last I contrived to steer it, so that we went straight forward.

In the seventh, Ernest, twelve years old, knowledgeable and sensible, but a bit selfish and lazy. In the eighth, I was an anxious father, responsible for steering the boat to save my beloved family. Each of us had some useful tools nearby; each held an oar and had a flotation device ready, in case we capsized. The tide was coming in when we set off, which I thought might help my weak efforts. We turned our outriggers lengthwise and moved from the ship's opening into the open sea. We rowed as hard as we could to reach the distant blue land, but for a while, we made no progress as the boat kept turning around. Finally, I managed to steer it so we could go straight ahead.

As soon as our dogs saw us depart, they leaped into the sea, and followed us; I could not let them get into the boat, for fear they should upset it. I was very sorry, for I hardly expected they would be able to swim to land; but by occasionally resting their forepaws on our out-riggers, they managed to keep up with us. Turk was an English dog, and Flora of a Danish breed.

As soon as our dogs saw us leave, they jumped into the water and swam after us. I couldn't let them in the boat, since I was worried they might tip it over. I felt really bad, because I didn't think they could swim to shore, but by sometimes resting their front paws on our outriggers, they managed to keep up with us. Turk was an English dog, and Flora was of a Danish breed.

We proceeded slowly, but safely. The nearer we approached the land, the more dreary and unpromising it appeared. The rocky coast seemed to announce to us nothing but famine and misery. The waves, gently rippling against the shore, were scattered over with barrels, bales, and chests from the wreck. Hoping to secure some good provisions, I called on Fritz for assistance; he held a cord, hammer, and nails, and we managed to seize two hogsheads in passing, and fastening them with cords to our vessel, drew them after us to the shore.

We moved slowly but safely. The closer we got to the land, the more bleak and uninviting it looked. The rocky coastline seemed to promise us nothing but hunger and hardship. The waves, gently lapping at the shore, were scattered with barrels, bales, and chests from the wreck. Hoping to find some decent supplies, I asked Fritz for help; he had a rope, a hammer, and nails, and we managed to grab two hogsheads as we went by, tying them with rope to our boat and dragging them to the shore.

As we approached, the coast seemed to improve. The chain of rock was not entire, and Fritz’s hawk eye made out some trees, which he declared were the cocoa-nut tree; Ernest was delighted at the prospect of eating these nuts, so much larger and better than any grown in Europe. I was regretting not having brought the large telescope from the captain’s cabin, when Jack produced from his pocket a smaller one, which he offered me with no little pride.

As we got closer, the shore looked better. The line of rocks wasn’t complete, and Fritz’s sharp eyes spotted some trees that he said were coconut trees; Ernest was thrilled at the thought of eating those nuts, which were way bigger and better than any found in Europe. I was wishing I had brought the big telescope from the captain’s cabin when Jack proudly pulled out a smaller one from his pocket and offered it to me.

This was a valuable acquisition, as I was now enabled to make the requisite observations, and direct my course. The coast before us had a wild and desert appearance,—it looked better towards the left; but I could not approach that part, for a current which drove us towards the rocky and barren shore. At length we saw, near the mouth of a rivulet, a little creek between the rocks, towards which our geese and ducks made, serving us for guides. This opening formed a little bay of smooth water, just deep enough for our boat. I cautiously entered it, and landed at a place where the coast was about the height of our tubs, and the water deep enough to let us approach. The shore spread inland, forming a gentle declivity of a triangular form, the point lost among the rocks, and the base to the sea.

This was a valuable find, as I was now able to make the necessary observations and guide my direction. The coast ahead looked wild and deserted—it seemed better to the left, but I couldn't get to that area because of a current pushing us towards the rocky, barren shore. Finally, we spotted a small creek between the rocks near the mouth of a stream, which our geese and ducks headed for, acting as our guides. This opening created a small bay of calm water, just deep enough for our boat. I carefully steered us in and landed where the coast was about the height of our tubs, and the water was deep enough to approach. The shore stretched inland, forming a gentle sloping triangle, with the tip lost among the rocks and the base facing the sea.

All that were able leaped on shore in a moment. Even little Francis, who had been laid down in his tub, like a salted herring, tried to crawl out, but was compelled to wait for his mother’s assistance. The dogs, who had preceded us in landing, welcomed us in a truly friendly manner, leaping playfully around us; the geese kept up a loud cackling, to which the yellow-billed ducks quacked a powerful bass. This, with the clacking of the liberated fowls, and the chattering of the boys, formed a perfect Babel; mingled with these, were the harsh cries of the penguins and flamingoes, which hovered over our heads, or sat on the points of the rocks. They were in immense numbers, and their notes almost deafened us, especially as they did not accord with the harmony of our civilized fowls. However I rejoiced to see these feathered creatures, already fancying them on my table, if we were obliged to remain in this desert region.

Everyone who could jumped ashore in an instant. Even little Francis, who had been laid down in his tub like a salted herring, tried to crawl out but had to wait for his mom to help him. The dogs, who had gotten off the boat before us, greeted us in a genuinely friendly way, jumping around us playfully. The geese were making a loud racket, while the yellow-billed ducks added a deep quack. All of this, combined with the clucking of the freed chickens and the chatter of the boys, created a perfect chaos; blended in were the harsh calls of the penguins and flamingos that hovered overhead or perched on the tips of the rocks. There were so many of them that their noise was almost deafening, especially since it clashed with the sounds of our domesticated birds. Still, I was glad to see these feathered creatures, already imagining them on my dinner plate if we had to stay in this barren place.

Our first care, when we stepped in safety on land, was to kneel down and thank God, to whom we owed our lives; and to resign ourselves wholly to his Fatherly kindness.

Our first priority, once we safely reached land, was to kneel and thank God, to whom we owed our lives, and to completely submit ourselves to His fatherly care.

We then began to unload our vessel. How rich we thought ourselves with the little we had saved! We sought a convenient place for our tent, under the shade of the rocks. We then inserted a pole into a fissure in the rock; this, resting firmly on another pole fixed in the ground, formed the frame of the tent. The sailcloth was then stretched over it, and fastened down at proper distances, by pegs, to which, for greater security, we added some boxes of provision; we fixed some hooks to the canvas at the opening in front, that we might close the entrance during the night. I sent my sons to seek some moss and withered grass, and spread it in the sun to dry, to form our beds; and while all, even little Francis, were busy with this, I constructed a sort of cooking-place, at some distance from the tent, near the river which was to supply us with fresh water. It was merely a hearth of flat stones from the bed of the stream, fenced round with some thick branches. I kindled a cheerful fire with some dry twigs, put on the pot, filled with water and some squares of portable soup, and left my wife, with Francis for assistant, to prepare dinner. He took the portable soup for glue, and could not conceive how mamma could make soup, as we had no meat, and there were no butchers’ shops here.

We started to unload our boat. How rich we felt with the little we had saved! We looked for a good spot to set up our tent, under the shade of the rocks. We put a pole into a crack in the rock; this one, resting firmly on another pole fixed in the ground, created the frame of the tent. We then stretched the sailcloth over it and secured it down with pegs, adding some boxes of food for extra stability. We attached some hooks to the canvas at the front opening so we could close the entrance at night. I sent my sons to find some moss and dried grass and spread it out in the sun to dry for our beds. While everyone, even little Francis, was busy with this, I built a cooking area a bit away from the tent, near the river that would give us fresh water. It was just a hearth made of flat stones from the streambed, enclosed with some thick branches. I started a nice fire with some dry twigs, placed a pot filled with water and some cubes of soup on it, and left my wife, with Francis helping her, to make dinner. He took the soup cubes as glue and couldn't understand how Mom could make soup without any meat, since there were no butchers around here.

Fritz, in the mean time, had loaded our guns. He took one to the side of the river; Ernest declined accompanying him, as the rugged road was not to his taste; he preferred the sea-shore. Jack proceeded to a ridge of rocks on the left, which ran towards the sea, to get some mussles. I went to try and draw the two floating hogsheads on shore, but could not succeed, for our landing-place was too steep to get them up. Whilst I was vainly trying to find a more favourable place, I heard my dear Jack uttering most alarming cries. I seized my hatchet, and ran to his assistance. I found him up to the knees in a shallow pool, with a large lobster holding his leg in its sharp claws. It made off at my approach; but I was determined it should pay for the fright it had given me. Cautiously taking it up, I brought it out, followed by Jack, who, now very triumphant, wished to present it himself to his mother, after watching how I held it. But he had hardly got it into his hands, when it gave him such a violent blow on the cheek with its tail, that he let it fall, and began to cry again. I could not help laughing at him, and, in his rage, he seized a stone, and put an end to his adversary. I was grieved at this, and recommended him never to act in a moment of anger, showing him that he was unjust in being so revengeful; for, if he had been bitten by the lobster, it was plain he would have eaten his foe if he had conquered him. Jack promised to be more discreet and merciful in future, and obtained leave to bear the prize to his mother.

Fritz had loaded our guns in the meantime. He took one to the riverbank; Ernest decided not to join him since the rough path wasn’t his thing; he preferred the beach. Jack headed to a ridge of rocks on the left that stretched toward the sea to collect some mussels. I went to try and pull the two floating barrels ashore, but I couldn't because our landing spot was too steep. While I was unsuccessfully looking for a better spot, I heard my dear Jack shouting in alarm. I grabbed my hatchet and ran to help him. I found him up to his knees in a shallow pool, with a large lobster clamped onto his leg with its sharp claws. It scuttled away as I approached, but I was determined to make it pay for the scare it gave me. Carefully, I picked it up and brought it out, with Jack following, who was now feeling very victorious and wanted to present it to his mother after seeing how I held it. But just as he got it into his hands, it gave him such a hard whack on the cheek with its tail that he dropped it and started crying again. I couldn’t help laughing at him, and in his anger, he picked up a stone and killed his opponent. I felt sorry about this and advised him never to act out of anger, pointing out that he was being unfair in seeking revenge; if he had been bitten by the lobster, he would have eaten it if he had won. Jack promised to be more careful and kind in the future and got permission to take the prize to his mother.

“Mamma,” said he, proudly, “a lobster! A lobster, Ernest! Where is Fritz! Take care it does not bite you, Francis!” They all crowded round in astonishment. “Yes,” added he, triumphantly, “here is the impertinent claw that seized me; but I repaid the knave,”

“Mama,” he said proudly, “a lobster! A lobster, Ernest! Where’s Fritz? Make sure it doesn’t bite you, Francis!” They all gathered around in amazement. “Yes,” he continued triumphantly, “this is the cheeky claw that grabbed me; but I got back at the rascal.”

“You are a boaster,” said I. “You would have got indifferently on with the lobster, if I had not come up; and have you forgotten the slap on the cheek which compelled you to release him? Besides, he only defended himself with his natural arms; but you had to take a great stone. You have no reason to be proud, Jack.”

“You're such a show-off,” I said. “You would have gotten along just fine with the lobster if I hadn't shown up. And have you forgotten the slap on the cheek that made you let him go? Besides, he was just defending himself with his natural claws, but you had to grab a big rock. You really have no reason to be proud, Jack.”

Ernest wished to have the lobster added to the soup to improve it; but his mother, with a spirit of economy, reserved it for another day. I then walked to the spot where Jack’s lobster was caught, and, finding it favourable for my purpose, drew my two hogsheads on shore there, and secured them by turning them on end.

Ernest wanted to add the lobster to the soup to make it better, but his mother, being economical, saved it for another day. I then walked to the place where Jack caught the lobster and, seeing it was good for my plan, pulled my two barrels ashore there and secured them by turning them upside down.

On returning, I congratulated Jack on being the first who had been successful in foraging. Ernest remarked, that he had seen some oysters attached to a rock, but could not get at them without wetting his feet, which he did not like.

On returning, I congratulated Jack for being the first one successful in foraging. Ernest noted that he had seen some oysters attached to a rock, but couldn't reach them without getting his feet wet, which he wasn’t a fan of.

“Indeed, my delicate gentleman!” said I, laughing, “I must trouble you to return and procure us some. We must all unite in working for the public good, regardless of wet feet. The sun will soon dry us.”

“Sure thing, my delicate gentleman!” I said, laughing, “I need you to go back and get us some. We all have to join forces for the greater good, even if we get our feet wet. The sun will dry us off soon enough.”

“I might as well bring some salt at the same time,” said he; “I saw plenty in the fissures of the rock, left by the sea, I should think, papa?”

“I might as well grab some salt while I'm at it,” he said; “I saw a lot in the cracks of the rock, probably left by the sea, right, Dad?”

“Doubtless, Mr. Reasoner,” replied I; “where else could it have come from? the fact was so obvious, that you had better have brought a bagful, than delayed to reflect about it. But if you wish to escape insipid soup, be quick and procure some.”

“Of course, Mr. Reasoner,” I replied; “where else could it have come from? The fact was so clear that you would have been better off bringing a bagful instead of taking time to think about it. But if you want to avoid bland soup, hurry up and get some.”

He went, and returned with some salt, so mixed with sand and earth, that I should have thrown it away as useless; but my wife dissolved it in fresh water, and, filtering it through a piece of canvas, managed to flavour our soup with it.

He went and came back with some salt, mixed with sand and dirt, that I would have tossed out as useless; but my wife dissolved it in fresh water and, filtering it through a piece of canvas, managed to add flavor to our soup with it.

Jack asked why we could not have used sea-water; and I explained to him that the bitter and nauseous taste of sea-water would have spoiled our dinner. My wife stirred the soup with a little stick, and, tasting it, pronounced it very good, but added, “We must wait for Fritz. And how shall we eat our soup without plates or spoons? We cannot possibly raise this large boiling pot to our heads, and drink out of it.”

Jack asked why we couldn't have used seawater, and I explained that the salty and unpleasant taste of seawater would have ruined our dinner. My wife stirred the soup with a small stick, and after tasting it, she said it was very good, but added, "We need to wait for Fritz. And how are we supposed to eat our soup without plates or spoons? There's no way we can lift this big boiling pot to our heads and drink from it."

It was too true. We gazed stupified at our pot, and, at last, all burst into laughter at our destitution, and our folly in forgetting such useful necessaries.

It was all too real. We stared in shock at our pot, and eventually, we all started laughing at our lack of resources and our foolishness for forgetting such essential things.

“If we only had cocoa-nuts,” said Ernest, “we might split them, and make basins and spoons.”

“If we just had coconuts,” said Ernest, “we could split them open and make bowls and spoons.”

If!” replied I—“but we have none! We might as well wish for a dozen handsome silver spoons at once, if wishes were of any use.”

If!” I replied—“but we don’t have any! We might as well wish for a dozen nice silver spoons all at once, if wishes actually did anything.”

“But,” observed he, “we can use oyster-shells.”

“But,” he observed, “we can use oyster shells.”

“A useful thought, Ernest; go directly and get the oysters; and, remember, gentlemen, no complaints, though the spoons are without handles, and you should dip your fingers into the bowl.”

“A good idea, Ernest; just go get the oysters right away; and, remember, gentlemen, no complaints, even if the spoons have no handles, and you have to use your fingers to scoop from the bowl.”

Off ran Jack, and was mid-leg in the water before Ernest got to him. He tore down the oysters, and threw them to his idle brother, who filled his handkerchief, taking care to put a large one into his pocket for his own use; and they returned with their spoil.

Off ran Jack, and was halfway in the water before Ernest caught up to him. He grabbed the oysters and threw them to his laid-back brother, who filled his handkerchief, making sure to stash a big one in his pocket for himself; then they headed back with their haul.

Fritz had not yet appeared, and his mother was becoming uneasy, when we heard him cheerfully hailing us at a distance. He soon came up, with a feigned air of disappointment, and his hands behind him; but Jack, who had glided round him, cried out, “A sucking pig! a sucking pig!” And he then, with, great pride and satisfaction, produced his booty, which I recognized, from the description of travellers, to be the agouti, common in these regions, a swift animal, which burrows in the earth, and lives on fruits and nuts; its flesh, something like that of the rabbit, has an unpleasant flavour to Europeans.

Fritz hadn't shown up yet, and his mother was getting anxious when we heard him happily calling out to us from a distance. He quickly approached, putting on a mock look of disappointment with his hands behind his back; but Jack had sneaked around him and shouted, “A baby pig! A baby pig!” Then, with great pride and joy, he revealed his catch, which I recognized from travel descriptions as the agouti, commonly found in these parts. It's a fast animal that burrows in the ground and eats fruits and nuts; its meat, somewhat similar to rabbit, has an unpleasant taste for Europeans.

All were anxious to know the particulars of the chase; but I seriously reproved my son for his little fiction, and warned him never to use the least deceit, even in jest. I then inquired where he had met with the agouti. He told me he had been on the other side of the river, “a very different place to this,” continued he. “The shore lies low, and you can have no idea of the number of casks, chests, planks, and all sorts of things the sea has thrown up; shall we go and take possession of them? And to-morrow, father, we ought to make another trip to the vessel, to look after our cattle. We might, at least, bring away the cow. Our biscuit would not be so hard dipped in milk.”

Everyone was eager to hear the details of the chase, but I seriously scolded my son for his little story and warned him never to be deceitful, even playfully. I then asked him where he had seen the agouti. He told me he had been on the other side of the river, “a very different place from here,” he continued. “The shore is low, and you wouldn’t believe how many barrels, chests, planks, and all sorts of things the sea has washed up; should we go and claim them? And tomorrow, Dad, we should make another trip to the ship to check on our cattle. We might, at least, bring back the cow. Our biscuits wouldn’t be so hard if we had milk.”

“And very much nicer,” added the greedy Ernest.

“And a lot nicer,” added the greedy Ernest.

“Then,” continued Fritz, “beyond the river there is rich grass for pasturage, and a shady wood. Why should we remain in this barren wilderness?”

“Then,” continued Fritz, “on the other side of the river, there’s lush grass for grazing and a shady forest. Why should we stay in this desolate wilderness?”

“Softly!” replied I, “there is a time for all things. To-morrow, and the day after to-morrow will have their work. But first tell me, did you see anything of our shipmates?”

“Softly!” I replied, “there's a time for everything. Tomorrow and the day after will have their tasks. But first tell me, did you see anything of our shipmates?”

“Not a trace of man, living or dead, on land or sea; but I saw an animal more like a hog than this, but with feet like a hare; it leaped among the grass, sometimes sitting upright, and rubbing its mouth with its forepaws; sometimes seeking for roots, and gnawing them like a squirrel. If I had not been afraid it would escape me, I would have tried to take it alive, it seemed so very tame.”

“Not a trace of any person, alive or dead, on land or sea; but I spotted an animal more like a hog than anything else, but with feet like a hare; it jumped through the grass, sometimes sitting up and rubbing its mouth with its front paws; sometimes digging for roots and gnawing on them like a squirrel. If I hadn’t been worried it would get away, I would have tried to catch it alive; it seemed really tame.”

As we were talking, Jack had been trying, with many grimaces, to force an oyster open with his knife. I laughed at his vain endeavours, and putting some on the fire, showed him them open of themselves. I had no taste for oysters myself; but as they are everywhere accounted a delicacy, I advised my sons to try them. They all at first declined the unattractive repast, except Jack, who, with great courage, closed his eyes, and desperately swallowed one as if it had been medicine. The rest followed his example, and then all agreed with me that oysters were not good. The shells were soon plunged into the pot to bring out some of the good soup; but scalding their fingers, it was who could cry out the loudest. Ernest took his large shell from his pocket, cautiously filled it with a good portion of soup, and set it down to cool, exulting in his own prudence. “You have been very thoughtful, my dear Ernest,” said I; “but why are your thoughts always for yourself; so seldom for others? As a punishment for your egotism, that portion must be given to our faithful dogs. We can all dip our shells into the pot, the dogs cannot. Therefore, they shall have your soup, and you must wait, and eat as we do.” My reproach struck his heart, and he placed his shell obediently on the ground, which the dogs emptied immediately. We were almost as hungry as they were, and were watching anxiously till the soup began to cool; when we perceived that the dogs were tearing and gnawing Fritz’s agouti. The boys all cried out; Fritz was in a fury, took his gun, struck the dogs, called them names, threw stones at them, and would have killed them if I had not held him. He had actually bent his gun with striking them. As soon as he would listen to me, I reproached him seriously for his violence, and represented to him how much he had distressed us, and terrified his mother; that he had spoiled his gun, which might have been so useful to us, and had almost killed the poor animals, who might be more so. “Anger,” said I, “leads to every crime. Remember Cain, who killed his brother in a fit of passion.” “Oh, father!” said he, in a voice of terror; and, acknowledging his error, he asked pardon, and shed bitter tears.

As we were talking, Jack was trying really hard, making all sorts of faces, to force an oyster open with his knife. I laughed at his futile attempts and, putting some on the fire, showed him how they opened on their own. I personally didn't care for oysters, but since they're considered a delicacy everywhere, I encouraged my sons to give them a try. At first, they all refused the unappealing dish, except Jack, who bravely closed his eyes and swallowed one desperately, as if it were medicine. The others soon followed his lead and agreed with me that oysters weren’t great. The shells were quickly dropped into the pot to extract some tasty soup, but they burned their fingers, trying to see who could shout the loudest. Ernest took his large shell from his pocket, carefully filled it with a generous amount of soup, and set it down to cool, pleased with his own cleverness. “You’ve been very thoughtful, my dear Ernest,” I said; “but why do you always think of yourself and so rarely of others? As a punishment for your selfishness, that portion must be given to our loyal dogs. We can all dip our shells into the pot, but the dogs cannot. So they will have your soup, and you’ll have to wait and eat like we do.” My words hit him hard, and he placed his shell obediently on the ground, which the dogs quickly emptied. We were nearly as hungry as they were and anxiously watched as the soup began to cool; when we noticed that the dogs were tearing into Fritz’s agouti. The boys shouted out; Fritz was furious, grabbed his gun, hit the dogs, yelled at them, threw stones, and almost killed them if I hadn’t stopped him. He had actually bent his gun from striking them. Once he calmed down enough to listen, I seriously reproached him for his violence and explained how much he had upset us and scared his mother; that he had ruined his gun, which could have been so useful to us, and nearly harmed the poor animals, who didn’t deserve it. “Anger,” I said, “leads to all kinds of wrong. Remember Cain, who killed his brother in a fit of rage.” “Oh, father!” he exclaimed in a terrified voice, and recognizing his mistake, he apologized and cried bitterly.

Soon after our repast the sun set, and the fowls gathered round us, and picked up the scattered crumbs of biscuit. My wife then took out her mysterious bag, and drew from it some handfuls of grain to feed her flock. She showed me also many other seeds of useful vegetables. I praised her prudence, and begged her to be very economical, as these seeds were of great value, and we could bring from the vessel some spoiled biscuit for the fowls.

Soon after we finished eating, the sun went down, and the chickens gathered around us, picking up the leftover crumbs of biscuit. My wife then took out her mysterious bag and pulled out handfuls of grain to feed her flock. She also showed me many other seeds for useful vegetables. I praised her for being wise and asked her to be very careful with these seeds since they were very valuable, and we could bring back some spoiled biscuit from the ship for the chickens.

Our pigeons now flew among the rocks, the cocks and hens perched on the frame of the tent, and the geese and ducks chose to roost in a marsh, covered with bushes, near the sea. We prepared for our rest; we loaded all our arms, then offered up our prayers together, thanking God for his signal mercy to us, and commending ourselves to his care. When the last ray of light departed, we closed our tent, and lay down on our beds, close together. The children had remarked how suddenly the darkness came on, from which I concluded we were not far from the equator; for I explained to them, the more perpendicularly the rays of the sun fall, the less their refraction; and consequently night comes on suddenly when the sun is below the horizon.

Our pigeons now flew among the rocks, and the roosters and hens perched on the tent frame while the geese and ducks chose to rest in a marsh, covered with bushes, near the sea. We got ready for rest; we gathered all our weapons and then prayed together, thanking God for his great mercy towards us and entrusting ourselves to his care. When the last ray of light disappeared, we closed our tent and lay down on our beds, close together. The kids noticed how quickly the darkness fell, and I concluded we weren’t far from the equator; I explained to them that the more directly the sun's rays hit, the less they bend, which is why night arrives so quickly when the sun sets.

Once more I looked out to see if all was quiet, then carefully closing the entrance, I lay down. Warm as the day had been, the night was so cold that we were obliged to crowd together for warmth. The children soon slept, and when I saw their mother in her first peaceful sleep, my own eyes closed, and our first night on the island passed comfortably.

Once again, I looked outside to check if everything was calm, then I carefully closed the entrance and lay down. Despite the warmth of the day, the night was so cold that we had to huddle together for warmth. The kids quickly fell asleep, and when I saw their mother sleeping peacefully for the first time, I closed my eyes too, and our first night on the island went by comfortably.


CHAPTER III.

At break of day I was waked by the crowing of the cock. I summoned my wife to council, to consider on the business of the day. We agreed that our first duty was to seek for our shipmates, and to examine the country beyond the river before we came to any decisive resolution.

At dawn, I was awakened by the crowing of the rooster. I called my wife to a meeting to discuss the day's plans. We agreed that our first priority was to look for our shipmates and to explore the area beyond the river before making any final decisions.

My wife saw we could not all go on this expedition, and courageously agreed to remain with her three youngest sons, while Fritz, as the eldest and boldest, should accompany me. I begged her to prepare breakfast immediately, which she warned me would be scanty, as no soup was provided. I asked for Jack’s lobster; but it was not to be found. Whilst my wife made the fire, and put on the pot, I called the children, and asking Jack for the lobster, he brought it from a crevice in the rock, where he had hidden it from the dogs, he said, who did not despise anything eatable.

My wife saw that we couldn't all go on this trip, and bravely agreed to stay behind with our three youngest sons while Fritz, being the oldest and most daring, would come with me. I asked her to whip up breakfast right away, but she warned me it would be meager since there was no soup. I inquired about Jack's lobster, but it was nowhere to be found. While my wife started the fire and set the pot on, I called the kids over and asked Jack about the lobster. He then brought it out from a crevice in the rock, where he had hidden it from the dogs, who he said would eat anything edible.

“I am glad to see you profit by the misfortunes of others,” said I; “and now will you give up that large claw that caught your leg, and which I promised you, to Fritz, as a provision for his journey?” All were anxious to go on this journey, and leaped round me like little kids. But I told them we could not all go. They must remain with their mother, with Flora for a protector. Fritz and I would take Turk; with him and a loaded gun I thought we should inspire respect. I then ordered Fritz to tie up Flora, and get the guns ready.

“I’m glad to see you taking advantage of other people's misfortunes,” I said; “now will you give up that big claw that got caught in your leg, which I promised to give to Fritz as a supply for his journey?” Everyone was eager to go on this trip and jumped around me like little kids. But I told them we couldn’t all go. They had to stay with their mother, with Flora to protect them. Fritz and I would take Turk; with him and a loaded gun, I thought we’d command respect. I then told Fritz to tie up Flora and prepare the guns.

Fritz blushed, and tried in vain to straighten his crooked gun. I let him go on for some time, and then allowed him to take another; for I saw he was penitent. The dogs, too, snarled, and would not let him approach them. He wept, and begged some biscuit from his mother, declaring he would give up his own breakfast to make his peace with the dogs. He fed them, caressed them, and seemed to ask pardon. The dog is always grateful; Flora soon licked his hands; Turk was more unrelenting, appearing to distrust him. “Give him a claw of the lobster,” said Jack; “for I make you a present of the whole for your journey.”

Fritz blushed and tried unsuccessfully to fix his crooked gun. I let him go on for a while, then allowed him to take another shot because I could see he felt sorry. The dogs, on the other hand, growled and wouldn’t let him near them. He cried and begged his mother for a biscuit, promising he would skip his own breakfast to make things right with the dogs. He fed them, petted them, and seemed to ask for forgiveness. Dogs are always grateful; Flora quickly licked his hands, but Turk was more stubborn and seemed to still distrust him. “Give him a claw of the lobster,” Jack said; “I’m giving you the whole thing as a gift for your journey.”

“Don’t be uneasy about them,” said Ernest, “they will certainly meet with cocoa-nuts, as Robinson did, very different food to your wretched lobster. Think of an almond as big as my head, with a large cup full of rich milk.”

“Don’t worry about them,” said Ernest, “they will definitely find coconuts, like Robinson did, which are way better than your awful lobster. Just imagine an almond as big as my head, with a big cup full of creamy milk.”

“Pray, brother, bring me one, if you find any,” said Francis.

“Please, brother, bring me one if you find any,” said Francis.

We began our preparation; we each took a game-bag and a hatchet. I gave Fritz a pair of pistols in addition to his gun, equipped myself in the same way, and took care to carry biscuit and a flask of fresh water. The lobster proved so hard at breakfast, that the boys did not object to our carrying off the remainder; and, though the flesh is coarse, it is very nutritious.

We started getting ready; we each grabbed a backpack and a hatchet. I gave Fritz a pair of pistols along with his gun, geared myself up the same way, and made sure to pack some biscuits and a flask of fresh water. The lobster was so tough at breakfast that the boys didn’t mind us taking the leftovers; and, even though the meat is tough, it’s really healthy.

I proposed before we departed, to have prayers, and my thoughtless Jack began to imitate the sound of church-bells—“Ding, dong! to prayers! to prayers! ding, dong!” I was really angry, and reproved him severely for jesting about sacred things. Then, kneeling down, I prayed God’s blessing on our undertaking, and his pardon for us all, especially for him who had now so grievously sinned. Poor Jack came and kneeled by me, weeping and begging for forgiveness from me and from God. I embraced him, and enjoined him and his brothers to obey their mother. I then loaded the guns I left with them, and charged my wife to keep near the boat, their best refuge. We took leave of our friends with many tears, as we did not know what dangers might assail us in an unknown region. But the murmur of the river, which we were now approaching, drowned the sound of their sobs, and we bent our thoughts on our journey.

I suggested that before we left, we should say some prayers, and my careless Jack started to mimic the sound of church bells—“Ding, dong! time for prayers! ding, dong!” I was really upset and scolded him harshly for making jokes about serious matters. Then, kneeling down, I prayed for God's blessing on our journey and for His forgiveness for all of us, especially for the one who had just sinned so deeply. Poor Jack came over, knelt by me, crying and asking for forgiveness from both me and God. I hugged him and told him and his brothers to listen to their mother. I then loaded the guns I left with them and instructed my wife to stay close to the boat, their safest refuge. We said goodbye to our friends with many tears, knowing we didn’t know what dangers could await us in an unfamiliar place. But the sound of the river we were approaching drowned out their sobs, and we focused on our journey.

The bank of the river was so steep, that we could only reach the bed at one little opening, near the sea, where we had procured our water; but here the opposite side was guarded by a ridge of lofty perpendicular rocks. We were obliged to ascend the river to a place where it fell over some rocks, some fragments of which having fallen, made a sort of stepping-stones, which enabled us to cross with some hazard. We made our way, with difficulty, through the high grass, withered by the sun, directing our course towards the sea, in hopes of discovering some traces of the boats, or the crew. We had scarcely gone a hundred yards, when we heard a loud noise and rustling in the grass, which was as tall as we were. We imagined we were pursued by some wild beast, and I was gratified to observe the courage of Fritz, who, instead of running away, calmly turned round and presented his piece. What was our joy when we discovered that the formidable enemy was only our faithful Turk, whom we had forgotten in our distress, and our friends had doubtless dispatched him after us! I applauded my son’s presence of mind; a rash act might have deprived us of this valuable friend.

The bank of the river was so steep that we could only reach the bottom at one small opening near the sea, where we had gotten our water; but on the other side, a ridge of tall, sheer rocks blocked our way. We had to go upstream to a spot where the water cascaded over some rocks. Some fragments had fallen, creating a sort of stepping-stone path, which let us cross with some risk. We pushed our way through the tall grass, dried out by the sun, heading towards the sea in hopes of finding some signs of the boats or the crew. We had barely gone a hundred yards when we heard a loud noise and rustling in the grass, which was as tall as we were. We thought we were being chased by some wild animal, and I was impressed by Fritz's bravery, who, instead of running away, calmly turned around and aimed his gun. What a relief it was when we realized that the fierce enemy was just our loyal Turk, whom we had forgotten in our panic, and our friends had probably sent him after us! I praised my son for his quick thinking; a hasty move could have cost us this valuable companion.

We continued our way: the sea lay to our left; on our right, at a short distance, ran the chain of rocks, which were continued from our landing-place, in a line parallel to the sea; the summits clothed with verdure and various trees. Between the rocks and the sea, several little woods extended, even to the shore, to which we kept as close as possible, vainly looking out on land or sea for any trace of our crew. Fritz proposed to fire his gun, as a signal to them, if they should be near us; but I reminded him that this signal might bring the ravages round us, instead of our friends.

We continued on our way: the sea was on our left; on our right, not far off, there was a chain of rocks that extended from where we landed, in a line parallel to the ocean, with the tops covered in greenery and various trees. Between the rocks and the sea, several small patches of woods reached all the way to the shore, which we stayed close to, desperately searching land and sea for any sign of our crew. Fritz suggested firing his gun as a signal to them if they were nearby, but I reminded him that this might attract danger instead of our friends.


“We rested in the shade, near a clear stream, and took some refreshment.”


“We relaxed in the shade, close to a clear stream, and had some refreshments.”

He then inquired why we should search after those persons at all, who so unfeelingly abandoned us on the wreck.

He then asked why we should even look for those people who so heartlessly left us behind on the wreck.

“First,” said I, “we must not return evil for evil. Besides, they may assist us, or be in need of our assistance. Above all, remember, they could save nothing but themselves. We have got many useful things which they have as much right to as we.”

“First,” I said, “we shouldn’t repay evil with evil. Besides, they might help us or might need our help. Above all, remember, they can only save themselves. We have many valuable things that they have just as much right to as we do.”

“But we might be saving the lives of our cattle,” said he.

“But we might be saving our cattle’s lives,” he said.

“We should do our duty better by saving the life of a man,” answered I; “besides, our cattle have food for some days, and the sea is so calm there is no immediate danger.”

“We should do our duty by saving a man's life,” I replied; “besides, our cattle have enough food for a few days, and the sea is so calm that there's no immediate danger.”

We proceeded, and entering a little wood that extended to the sea, we rested in the shade, near a clear stream, and took some refreshment. We were surrounded by unknown birds, more remarkable for brilliant plumage than for the charm of their voice. Fritz thought he saw some monkeys among the leaves, and Turk began to be restless, smelling about, and barking very loud. Fritz was gazing up into the trees, when he fell over a large round substance, which he brought to me, observing that it might be a bird’s nest. I thought it more likely to be a cocoa-nut. The fibrous covering had reminded him of the description he had read of the nests of certain birds; but, on breaking the shell, we found it was indeed a cocoa-nut, but quite decayed and uneatable.

We moved on, and as we entered a small wooded area that stretched to the sea, we took a break in the shade next to a clear stream and had some refreshments. We were surrounded by unfamiliar birds, notable for their bright feathers more than for their singing. Fritz thought he spotted some monkeys in the leaves, and Turk started getting restless, sniffing around and barking loudly. While Fritz was looking up into the trees, he tripped over a large round object, which he brought to me, suggesting it might be a bird's nest. I figured it was more likely a coconut. Its fibrous exterior reminded him of descriptions he’d read about certain birds' nests; however, when we cracked it open, we found it was indeed a coconut, but it was completely rotten and inedible.

Fritz was astonished; where was the sweet milk that Ernest had talked of?

Fritz was shocked; where was the sweet milk that Ernest had mentioned?

I told him the milk was only in the half-ripe nuts; that it thickened and hardened as the nut ripened, becoming a kernel. This nut had perished from remaining above ground. If it had been in the earth, it would have vegetated, and burst the shell. I advised my son to try if he could not find a perfect nut.

I told him the milk was only in the half-ripe nuts; that it thickened and hardened as the nut ripened, becoming a kernel. This nut had died because it stayed above ground. If it had been in the earth, it would have grown and split the shell. I suggested to my son to see if he could find a perfect nut.

After some search, we found one, and sat down to eat it, keeping our own provision for dinner. The nut was somewhat rancid; but we enjoyed it, and then continued our journey. We were some time before we got through the wood, being frequently obliged to clear a road for ourselves, through the entangled brushwood, with our hatchets. At last we entered the open plain again, and had a clear view before us. The forest still extended about a stone’s throw to our right, and Fritz, who was always on the look-out for discoveries, observed a remarkable tree, here and there, which he approached to examine; and he soon called me to see this wonderful tree, with wens growing on the trunk.

After searching for a while, we found one and sat down to eat it, saving our own food for dinner. The nut was a bit spoiled, but we enjoyed it and then continued our journey. It took us some time to get through the woods, as we often had to clear a path for ourselves through the tangled brush with our hatchets. Finally, we entered the open plain again and had a clear view ahead. The forest still stretched about a stone’s throw to our right, and Fritz, who was always on the lookout for new discoveries, spotted a remarkable tree here and there. He went over to check it out and soon called me to see this amazing tree with growths on the trunk.

On coming up, I was overjoyed to find this tree, of which there were a great number, was the gourd-tree, which bears fruit on the trunk. Fritz asked if these were sponges. I told him to bring me one, and I would explain the mystery.

When I came up, I was thrilled to discover that this tree, of which there were many, was the gourd tree, which produces fruit on the trunk. Fritz asked if these were sponges. I told him to get me one, and I would explain the mystery.

“There is one,” said he, “very like a pumpkin, only harder outside.”

“There is one,” he said, “that looks a lot like a pumpkin, but it’s just tougher on the outside.”

“Of this shell,” said I, “we can make plates, dishes, basins, and flasks. We call it the gourd-tree.”

“From this shell,” I said, “we can make plates, bowls, basins, and flasks. We call it the gourd tree.”

Fritz leaped for joy. “Now my dear mother will be able to serve her soup properly.” I asked him if he knew why the tree bore the fruit on its trunk, or on the thick branches only. He immediately replied, that the smaller branches would not bear the weight of the fruit. He asked me if this fruit was eatable. “Harmless, I believe,” said I; “but by no means delicate. Its great value to savage nations consists in the shell, which they use to contain their food, and drink, and even cook in it.” Fritz could not comprehend how they could cook in the shell without burning it. I told him the shell was not placed on the fire; but, being filled with cold water, and the fish or meat placed in it, red-hot stones are, by degrees, introduced into the water, till it attains sufficient heat to cook the food, without injuring the vessel. We then set about making our dishes and plates. I showed Fritz a better plan of dividing the gourd than with a knife. I tied a string tightly round the nut, struck it with the handle of my knife till an incision was made, then tightened it till the nut was separated into two equally-sized bowls. Fritz had spoiled his gourd by cutting it irregularly with his knife. I advised him to try and make spoons of it, as it would not do for basins now. I told him I had learnt my plan from books of travels. It is the practice of the savages, who have no knives, to use a sort of string, made from the bark of trees, for this purpose. “But how can they make bottles,” said he. “That requires some preparation,” replied I. “They tie a bandage round the young gourd near the stalk, so that the part at liberty expands in a round form, and the compressed part remains narrow. They then open the top, and extract the contents by putting in pebbles and shaking it. By this means they have a complete bottle.”

Fritz jumped for joy. “Now my dear mom can serve her soup properly.” I asked him if he knew why the tree produced fruit on its trunk or only on the thick branches. He quickly answered that the smaller branches wouldn’t be able to support the weight of the fruit. He then asked me if this fruit was edible. “Safe to eat, I think,” I said; “but definitely not delicate. Its great value to indigenous peoples comes from the shell, which they use to hold their food and drinks, and even cook in it.” Fritz couldn’t understand how they could cook in the shell without burning it. I explained that the shell wasn’t placed directly on the fire; instead, it was filled with cold water, and fish or meat were added, then red-hot stones were gradually introduced into the water until it got hot enough to cook the food without damaging the vessel. We then started making our dishes and plates. I showed Fritz a better way to split the gourd than using a knife. I tied a string tightly around the nut, struck it with the handle of my knife until I made an incision, then tightened it until the nut separated into two equal bowls. Fritz had messed up his gourd by cutting it unevenly with his knife. I suggested he try to make spoons from it since it wouldn’t work for bowls now. I told him I learned my technique from travel books. It’s customary for indigenous peoples, who don’t have knives, to use a type of string made from tree bark for this purpose. “But how do they make bottles?” he asked. “That takes some preparation,” I replied. “They tie a band around the young gourd near the stem so that the part that’s free expands in a round shape while the compressed part stays narrow. Then they open the top and remove the contents by putting in pebbles and shaking it. This way, they have a complete bottle.”

We worked on. Fritz completed a dish and some plates, to his great satisfaction, but we considered, that being so frail, we could not carry them with us. We therefore filled them with sand, that the sun might not warp them, and left them to dry, till we returned.

We kept working. Fritz finished a dish and some plates, which made him really happy, but we thought that since they were so fragile, we couldn’t take them with us. So, we filled them with sand to prevent the sun from warping them and left them to dry until we got back.

As we went on, Fritz amused himself with cutting spoons from the rind of the gourd, and I tried to do the same with the fragments of the cocoa-nut; but I must confess my performances were inferior to those I had seen in the museum in London, the work of the South Sea islanders. We laughed at our spoons, which would have required mouths from ear to ear to eat with them. Fritz declared that the curve of the rind was the cause of that defect: if the spoons had been smaller, they would have been flat; and you might as well eat soup with an oyster-shell as with a shovel.

As we continued, Fritz entertained himself by carving spoons from the gourd's rind, while I tried to do the same with pieces of the coconut. I have to admit, though, that my efforts weren't as good as those I had seen in the museum in London, made by the South Sea islanders. We laughed at our spoons, which would need mouths stretching from ear to ear to use them. Fritz insisted the curve of the rind was what caused that issue: if the spoons had been smaller, they would have been flat, and you might as well eat soup with an oyster shell as with a shovel.

While we talked, we did not neglect looking about for our lost companions, but in vain. At last, we arrived at a place where a tongue of land ran to some distance into the sea, on which was an elevated spot, favourable for observation. We attained the summit with great labour, and saw before us a magnificent prospect of land and water; but with all the aid our excellent telescope gave us, we could in no direction discover any trace of man. Nature only appeared in her greatest beauty. The shore enclosed a large bay, which terminated on the other side in a promontory. The gentle rippling of the waves, the varied verdure of the woods, and the multitude of novelties around us, would have filled us with delight, but for the painful recollection of those who, we now were compelled to believe, were buried beneath that glittering water. We did not feel less, however, the mercy of God, who had preserved us, and given us a home, with a prospect of subsistence and safety. We had not yet met with any dangerous animals, nor could we perceive any huts of savages. I remarked to my son that God seemed to have destined us to a solitary life in this rich country, unless some vessel should reach these shores. “And His will be done!” added I; “it must be for the best. Now let us retire to that pretty wood to rest ourselves, and eat our dinner, before we return.”

While we talked, we didn’t forget to look for our lost companions, but it was useless. Finally, we reached a spot where a piece of land stretched into the sea, and there was a high point perfect for observing. We climbed to the top with a lot of effort and saw an amazing view of land and water; but despite our great telescope, we couldn't find any sign of people in any direction. Nature was in all her glory. The shore formed a large bay that ended at a promontory on the other side. The gentle lapping of the waves, the lush greenery of the woods, and the many new sights around us would have filled us with joy, if it weren’t for the painful memory of those who we now had to believe were buried beneath that shimmering water. However, we still felt grateful to God for keeping us safe and giving us a home, with a chance for food and safety. We hadn’t come across any dangerous animals yet, nor could we see any huts belonging to savages. I mentioned to my son that it seemed God had planned for us to lead a solitary life in this beautiful place, unless a ship should arrive. “And His will be done!” I added; “it must be for the best. Now let’s go to that lovely wood to rest and have our dinner before we head back.”

We proceeded towards a pleasant wood of palm-trees; but before reaching it, had to pass through an immense number of reeds, which greatly obstructed our road. We were, moreover, fearful of treading on the deadly serpents who choose such retreats. We made Turk walk before us to give notice, and I cut a long, thick cane as a weapon of defence. I was surprised to see a glutinous juice oozing from the end of the cut cane; I tasted it, and was convinced that we had met with a plantation of sugar-canes. I sucked more of it, and found myself singularly refreshed. I said nothing to Fritz, that he might have the pleasure of making the discovery himself. He was walking a few paces before me, and I called to him to cut himself a cane like mine, which he did, and soon found out the riches it contained. He cried out in ecstasy, “Oh, papa! papa! syrup of sugar-cane! delicious! How delighted will dear mamma, and my brothers be, when I carry some to them!” He went on, sucking pieces of cane so greedily, that I checked him, recommending moderation. He was then content to take some pieces to regale himself as he walked home, loading himself with a huge burden for his mother and brothers. We now entered the wood of palms to eat our dinner, when suddenly a number of monkeys, alarmed by our approach, and the barking of the dog, fled like lightning to the tops of the trees; and then grinned frightfully at us, with loud cries of defiance. As I saw the trees were cocoa-palms, I hoped to obtain, by means of the monkeys, a supply of the nuts in the half-ripe state, when filled with milk. I held Fritz’s arm, who was preparing to shoot at them, to his great vexation, as he was irritated against the poor monkeys for their derisive gestures; but I told him, that though no patron of monkeys myself, I could not allow it. We had no right to kill any animal except in defence, or as a means of supporting life. Besides, the monkeys would be of more use to us living than dead, as I would show him. I began to throw stones at the monkeys, not being able, of course, to reach the place of their retreat, and they, in their anger, and in the spirit of imitation, gathered the nuts and hurled them on us in such quantities, that we had some difficulty in escaping from them. We had soon a large stock of cocoa-nuts. Fritz enjoyed the success of the stratagem, and, when the shower subsided, he collected as many as he wished. We then sat down, and tasted some of the milk through the three small holes, which we opened with our knives. We then divided some with our hatchets, and quenched our thirst with the liquor, which has not, however, a very agreeable flavour. We liked best a sort of thick cream which adheres to the shells, from which we scraped it with our spoons, and mixing it with the juice of the sugar-cane, we produced a delicious dish. Turk had the rest of the lobster, which we now despised, with some biscuit.

We headed towards a nice grove of palm trees, but before we got there, we had to go through a huge bunch of reeds that made our path really difficult. We were also worried about stepping on the deadly snakes that like to hide in such places. We made Turk walk in front of us to alert us, and I cut a long, thick cane to use as a weapon for defense. I was surprised to see a sticky juice oozing from the end of the cut cane; I tasted it and realized we had stumbled upon a sugarcane field. I sucked on more of it and found it really refreshing. I didn’t say anything to Fritz so he could discover it for himself. He was a few steps ahead of me, and I called out for him to cut a cane like mine, which he did, quickly discovering the treat inside. He exclaimed, “Oh, Dad! Dad! Sugarcane syrup! So yummy! Mom and my brothers will be so happy when I bring some back!” He started sucking on pieces of cane greedily, and I had to remind him to be moderate. He agreed to take some pieces to enjoy on the way home, loading up with a big haul for his mother and brothers. We then entered the palm grove to have our lunch when suddenly a bunch of monkeys, startled by our approach and the barking of the dog, shot up to the tops of the trees and then made scary faces at us while loudly shouting at us. Noticing that the trees were cocoa palms, I hoped to get some half-ripe nuts filled with milk with the help of the monkeys. I grabbed Fritz’s arm just as he was about to shoot at them, which irritated him since he was annoyed with the silly monkeys for their teasing gestures. But I told him that even though I wasn’t a fan of monkeys, I couldn’t allow it. We had no right to kill any animal unless it was in defense or for survival. Plus, the monkeys would be more useful to us alive than dead, as I would show him. I began throwing stones at the monkeys, not that I could actually hit them where they were hiding, and in their anger and in a spirit of imitation, they collected the nuts and threw them at us in such quantities that we had a hard time dodging them. Soon enough, we had a big stash of coconuts. Fritz enjoyed the success of our plan, and when the nut shower stopped, he gathered as many as he wanted. We then sat down and tasted some of the milk through three small holes that we opened with our knives. We shared some using our hatchets and quenched our thirst with the liquid, which, to be honest, didn’t have a very pleasant taste. We preferred a thick cream that stuck to the shells, which we scraped out with our spoons and mixed with the sugarcane juice to create a delicious dish. Turk finished off the rest of the lobster, which we didn’t want anymore, along with some biscuits.

We then got up, I tied some nuts together by their stems, and threw them over my shoulder. Fritz took his bundle of canes, and we set out homewards.

We then got up, I tied some nuts together by their stems, and threw them over my shoulder. Fritz grabbed his bundle of canes, and we headed home.


CHAPTER IV.

Fritz groaned heavily under the weight of his canes as we travelled on, and pitied the poor negroes, who had to carry such heavy burdens of them. He then, in imitation of me, tried to refresh himself by sucking a sugar-cane, but was surprised to find he failed in extracting any of the juice. At last, after some reflection, he said, “Ah! I remember, if there is no opening made for the air, I can get nothing out.” I requested him to find a remedy for this.

Fritz groaned heavily under the weight of his canes as we continued on, feeling sorry for the poor blacks who had to carry such heavy loads for them. Then, trying to mimic me, he attempted to cool off by sucking on a sugar cane but was surprised to find that he couldn't extract any juice from it. Finally, after thinking for a moment, he said, “Oh! I remember, if there’s no opening made for the air, I can’t get anything out.” I asked him to come up with a solution for this.

“I will make an opening,” said he, “above the first knot in the cane. If I draw in my breath in sucking, and thus make a vacuum in my mouth, the outer air then forces itself through the hole I have made to fill this vacuum, and carries the juice along with it; and when this division of the cane is emptied, I can proceed to pierce above the next knot. I am only afraid that going on this way we shall have nothing but empty canes to carry to our friends.” I told him, that I was more afraid the sun might turn the syrup sour before we got our canes home; therefore we need not spare them.

“I'll make a hole,” he said, “above the first knot in the cane. If I suck in air and create a vacuum in my mouth, the outside air will rush in through the hole I've made to fill that vacuum, and it will bring the juice with it. Once this part of the cane is emptied, I can move on to pierce above the next knot. I'm just worried that if we keep doing this, we’ll end up with nothing but empty canes to take back to our friends.” I told him that I was more concerned that the sun might spoil the syrup before we got the canes home, so we shouldn’t hold back.

“Well, at any rate,” said he, “I have filled my flask with the milk of the cocoa-nut to regale them.”

"Well, anyway," he said, "I've filled my flask with coconut milk to treat them."

I told him I feared another disappointment; for the milk of the cocoa-nut, removed from the shell, spoiled sooner than the sugar-cane juice. I warned him that the milk, exposed to the sun in his tin flask, was probably become vinegar.

I told him I was worried about another disappointment because the coconut milk, taken out of the shell, spoiled faster than the sugarcane juice. I warned him that the milk, left in his tin flask under the sun, had probably turned into vinegar.

He instantly took the bottle from his shoulder and uncorked it; when the liquor flew out with a report, foaming like champaign.

He quickly took the bottle off his shoulder and uncorked it; when the liquor burst out with a pop, foaming like champagne.

I congratulated him on his new manufacture, and said, we must beware of intoxication.

I congratulated him on his new business and said we should be careful of getting carried away.

“Oh, taste, papa!” said he, “it is delicious, not at all like vinegar, but capital new, sweet, sparkling wine. This will be the best treat, if it remains in this state.”

“Oh, taste this, Dad!” he said. “It’s amazing, not at all like vinegar, but really good, sweet, sparkling wine. This will be the best treat if it stays this way.”

“I fear it will not be so,” said I. “This is the first stage of fermentation. When this is over, and the liquor is cleared, it is a sort of wine, or fermented liquor, more or less agreeable, according to the material used. By applying heat, a second, and slower fermentation succeeds, and the liquor becomes vinegar. Then comes on a third stage, which deprives it of its strength, and spoils it. I fear, in this burning climate, you will carry home only vinegar, or something still more offensive. But let us drink each other’s health now, but prudently, or we shall soon feel the effects of this potent beverage.” Perfectly refreshed, we went on cheerfully to the place where we had left our gourd utensils. We found them quite dry, and hard as bone; we had no difficulty in carrying them in our game-bags. We had scarcely got through the little wood where we had breakfasted, when Turk darted furiously on a troop of monkeys, who were sporting about, and had not perceived him. He immediately seized a female, holding a young one in her arms, which impeded her flight, and had killed and devoured the poor mother before we could reach him. The young one had hidden itself among the long grass, when Fritz arrived; he had run with all his might, losing his hat, bottle, and canes, but could not prevent the murder of the poor mother.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen,” I said. “This is the first stage of fermentation. Once that’s done, and the liquid is clear, it’s a kind of wine or fermented drink, depending on the ingredients used. If you heat it up, a second, slower fermentation happens, and it turns into vinegar. Then there’s a third stage that weakens and ruins it. I’m worried that in this hot climate, you’ll end up taking home just vinegar or something even worse. But let’s toast to each other’s health now, carefully, or we’ll feel the effects of this strong drink quickly.” Feeling refreshed, we cheerfully continued to the spot where we had left our gourd utensils. They were completely dry and as hard as bone, making it easy to carry them in our game bags. We had barely made it through the little woods where we had breakfasted when Turk suddenly charged at a group of monkeys that were playing around and hadn’t noticed him. He immediately grabbed a female monkey holding a baby, which slowed her down, and he killed and devoured the poor mother before we could reach him. The baby had hidden itself in the tall grass when Fritz arrived; he had run as fast as he could, losing his hat, bottle, and canes, but couldn’t stop the mother from getting killed.

The little monkey no sooner saw him than it leaped upon his shoulders, fastening its paws in his curls, and neither cries, threats, nor shaking could rid him of it. I ran up to him laughing, for I saw the little creature could not hurt him, and tried in vain to disengage it. I told him he must carry it thus. It was evident the sagacious little creature, having lost its mother, had adopted him for a father.

The little monkey immediately saw him and jumped onto his shoulders, gripping his hair with its paws, and no amount of crying, threats, or shaking could get rid of it. I ran over to him laughing because I could tell the little creature couldn't hurt him, and I tried in vain to get it off. I told him he had to carry it like that. It was clear that the clever little creature, having lost its mother, had chosen him as its new father.

I succeeded, at last, in quietly releasing him, and took the little orphan, which was no bigger than a cat, in my arms, pitying its helplessness. The mother appeared as tall as Fritz.

I finally managed to quietly set him free and held the little orphan, who was no bigger than a cat, in my arms, feeling sorry for its helplessness. The mother was as tall as Fritz.

I was reluctant to add another mouth to the number we had to feed; but Fritz earnestly begged to keep it, offering to divide his share of cocoa-nut milk with it till we had our cows. I consented, on condition that he took care of it, and taught it to be obedient to him.

I was hesitant to add another mouth to the ones we already had to feed; but Fritz really wanted to keep it, promising to share his coconut milk with it until we got our cows. I agreed, under the condition that he would take care of it and teach it to be obedient to him.

Turk, in the mean time, was feasting on the remains of the unfortunate mother. Fritz would have driven him off, but I saw we had not food sufficient to satisfy this voracious animal, and we might ourselves be in danger from his appetite.

Turk, in the meantime, was eating the leftovers of the poor mother. Fritz wanted to chase him away, but I realized we didn’t have enough food to satisfy this greedy animal, and we could be in danger from his hunger ourselves.

We left him, therefore, with his prey, the little orphan sitting on the shoulder of his protector, while I carried the canes. Turk soon overtook us, and was received very coldly; we reproached him with his cruelty, but he was quite unconcerned, and continued to walk after Fritz. The little monkey seemed uneasy at the sight of him, and crept into Fritz’s bosom, much to his inconvenience. But a thought struck him; he tied the monkey with a cord to Turk’s back, leading the dog by another cord, as he was very rebellious at first; but our threats and caresses at last induced him to submit to his burden. We proceeded slowly, and I could not help anticipating the mirth of my little ones, when they saw us approach like a pair of show-men.

We left him, then, with his catch, the little orphan perched on his protector’s shoulder, while I carried the canes. Turk soon caught up with us and was greeted very coldly; we criticized him for his cruelty, but he was completely unfazed and kept following Fritz. The little monkey seemed anxious seeing him and snuggled into Fritz’s chest, which was quite bothersome for him. But then an idea hit him; he tied the monkey with a cord to Turk’s back, leading the dog with another cord since he was really reluctant at first. However, our threats and affection eventually got him to accept the extra weight. We moved slowly, and I couldn't help but look forward to the laughter of my little ones when they saw us approach like a pair of performers.

I advised Fritz not to correct the dogs for attacking and killing unknown animals. Heaven bestows the dog on man, as well as the horse, for a friend and protector. Fritz thought we were very fortunate, then, in having two such faithful dogs; he only regretted that our horses had died on the passage, and only left us the ass.

I told Fritz not to punish the dogs for attacking and killing animals they didn't know. God gives us dogs, just like horses, to be our friends and protectors. Fritz felt we were really lucky to have two such loyal dogs; he just wished that our horses hadn't died during the journey and that we were only left with the donkey.

“Let us not disdain the ass,” said I; “I wish we had him here; he is of a very fine breed, and would be as useful as a horse to us.”

“Let’s not look down on the donkey,” I said; “I wish we had him here; he’s a really good breed and would be just as useful to us as a horse.”

In such conversations, we arrived at the banks of our river before we were aware. Flora barked to announce our approach, and Turk answered so loudly, that the terrified little monkey leaped from his back to the shoulder of its protector, and would not come down. Turk ran off to meet his companion, and our dear family soon appeared on the opposite shore, shouting with joy at our happy return. We crossed at the same place as we had done in the morning, and embraced each other. Then began such a noise of exclamations. “A monkey! a real, live monkey! Ah! how delightful! How glad we are! How did you catch him?”

In those conversations, we found ourselves at the riverbank before we even realized it. Flora barked to signal our arrival, and Turk responded so loudly that the scared little monkey jumped from his back to the shoulder of its protector and wouldn’t come down. Turk ran off to greet his friend, and our beloved family soon showed up on the opposite shore, cheering with joy at our happy return. We crossed at the same spot as we had that morning and hugged each other. Then there was a flurry of exclamations. “A monkey! A real, live monkey! Oh, how wonderful! We’re so happy! How did you catch him?”

“He is very ugly,” said little Francis, who was almost afraid of him.

"He is really ugly," said little Francis, who was almost scared of him.

“He is prettier than you are,” said Jack; “see how he laughs! how I should like to see him eat!”

“He's cuter than you are,” said Jack; “look at how he laughs! I'd love to see him eat!”

“If we only had some cocoa-nuts,” said Ernest. “Have you found any, and are they good?”

“If we could just find some coconuts,” said Ernest. “Did you come across any, and are they good?”

“Have you had any unpleasant adventures?” asked my wife.

“Have you had any bad experiences?” asked my wife.

It was in vain to attempt replying to so many questions and exclamations.

It was pointless to try to respond to so many questions and exclamations.

At length, when we got a little peace, I told them that, though I had brought them all sorts of good things, I had, unfortunately, not met with any of our companions.

At last, when we finally had a moment of peace, I told them that, even though I had brought them all kinds of good things, I had, unfortunately, not found any of our friends.

“God’s will be done!” said my wife; “let us thank Him for saving us, and again bringing us together now. This day has seemed an age. But put down your loads, and let us hear your adventures; we have not been idle, but we are less fatigued than you. Boys, assist your father and brother.”

“God's will be done!” said my wife; “let's thank Him for saving us and bringing us back together now. This day has felt like forever. But put down your burdens, and let us hear about your adventures; we haven't been idle, but we're less tired than you. Boys, help your dad and brother.”

Jack took my gun, Ernest the cocoa-nuts, Francis the gourd-rinds, and my wife the game-bag. Fritz distributed his sugar-canes, and placed the monkey on Turk’s back, to the amusement of the children. He begged Ernest to carry his gun, but he complained of being overloaded with the great bowls. His indulgent mother took them from him, and we proceeded to the tent.

Jack took my gun, Ernest took the coconuts, Francis took the gourd rinds, and my wife took the game bag. Fritz handed out his sugar canes and put the monkey on Turk's back, which entertained the kids. He asked Ernest to carry his gun, but he said he was already weighed down with the big bowls. His understanding mother took them from him, and we moved on to the tent.

Fritz thought Ernest would not have relinquished the bowls, if he had known what they contained, and called out to tell him they were cocoa-nuts.

Fritz thought Ernest wouldn’t have given up the bowls if he had known what was inside them, so he called out to tell him they were coconuts.

“Give them to me,” cried Ernest. “I will carry them, mamma, and the gun too.”

“Give them to me,” shouted Ernest. “I’ll carry them, mom, and the gun too.”

His mother declined giving them.

His mother refused to give them.

“I can throw away these sticks,” said he, “and carry the gun in my hand.”

“I can get rid of these sticks,” he said, “and carry the gun in my hand.”

“I would advise you not,” observed Fritz, “for the sticks are sugar-canes.”

"I wouldn’t recommend it," said Fritz, "because those sticks are sugar canes."

“Sugar-canes!” cried they all, surrounding Fritz, who had to give them the history, and teach them the art of sucking the canes.

“Sugar canes!” they all shouted, gathering around Fritz, who had to tell them the story and show them how to suck the canes.

My wife, who had a proper respect for sugar in her housekeeping, was much pleased with this discovery, and the history of all our acquisitions, which I displayed to her. Nothing gave her so much pleasure as our plates and dishes, which were actual necessaries. We went to our kitchen, and were gratified to see preparations going on for a good supper. My wife had planted a forked stick on each side the hearth; on these rested a long thin wand, on which all sorts of fish were roasting, Francis being intrusted to turn the spit. On the other side was impaled a goose on another spit, and a row of oyster-shells formed the dripping-pan: besides this, the iron pot was on the fire, from which arose the savoury odour of a good soup. Behind the hearth stood one of the hogsheads, opened, and containing the finest Dutch cheeses, enclosed in cases of lead. All this was very tempting to hungry travellers, and very unlike a supper on a desert island. I could not think my family had been idle, when I saw such a result of their labours; I was only sorry they had killed the goose, as I wished to be economical with our poultry.

My wife, who had a good handle on managing sugar in our household, was really happy with this find, as well as the story behind all our new things that I showed her. Nothing made her happier than our plates and dishes, which were actually essentials. We headed to the kitchen and were pleased to see preparations happening for a nice dinner. My wife had set up a forked stick on either side of the hearth; a long thin rod was resting on them, with all kinds of fish roasting, while Francis was tasked with turning the spit. On the other side, a goose was cooking on another spit, and a row of oyster shells was serving as the drip pan. Additionally, the iron pot was on the fire, filling the air with the delicious smell of a hearty soup. Behind the hearth stood an opened barrel filled with the finest Dutch cheeses, wrapped in lead cases. All of this was incredibly tempting for hungry travelers and nothing like a dinner on a deserted island. I really couldn’t believe my family had been idle when I saw such great results from their efforts; I just wished they hadn't cooked the goose since I wanted to be frugal with our poultry.

“Have no uneasiness,” said my wife, “this is not from our poultry-yard, it is a wild goose, killed by Ernest.”

“Don’t worry,” my wife said, “this isn’t from our chicken coop; it’s a wild goose that Ernest killed.”

“It is a sort of penguin, I believe,” said Ernest, “distinguished by the name of booby, and so stupid, that I knocked it down with a stick. It is web-footed, has a long narrow beak, a little curved downwards. I have preserved the head and neck for you to examine; it exactly resembles the penguin of my book of natural history.”

“It’s a type of penguin, I think,” said Ernest, “called a booby, and it’s so stupid that I knocked it down with a stick. It has webbed feet, a long narrow beak that curves slightly downwards. I’ve saved the head and neck for you to look at; it looks exactly like the penguin in my natural history book.”

I pointed out to him the advantages of study, and was making more inquiries about the form and habits of the bird, when my wife requested me to defer my catechism of natural history.

I highlighted the benefits of studying, and I was asking more questions about the bird's shape and behavior when my wife asked me to put my lesson on natural history on hold.

“Ernest has killed the bird,” added she; “I received it; we shall eat it. What more would you have? Let the poor child have the pleasure of examining and tasting the cocoa-nuts.”

“Ernest has killed the bird,” she added; “I got it; we’ll eat it. What more do you want? Let the poor child enjoy checking out and tasting the coconuts.”

“Very well,” replied I, “Fritz must teach them how to open them; and we must not forget the little monkey, who has lost his mother’s milk.”

“Alright,” I replied, “Fritz has to show them how to open them; and we mustn’t forget the little monkey, who has lost his mother’s milk.”

“I have tried him,” cried Jack, “and he will eat nothing.”

“I’ve tried him,” Jack exclaimed, “and he won’t eat anything.”

I told them he had not yet learnt to eat, and we must feed him with cocoa-nut milk till we could get something better. Jack generously offered all his share, but Ernest and Francis were anxious to taste the milk themselves.

I told them he hadn't learned to eat yet, so we should feed him coconut milk until we could find something better. Jack kindly offered all his portion, but Ernest and Francis were eager to try the milk for themselves.

“But the monkey must live,” said Jack, petulantly.

“But the monkey has to live,” Jack said, throwing a tantrum.

“And so must we all,” said mamma. “Supper is ready, and we will reserve the cocoa-nuts for dessert.”

“And so must we all,” said Mom. “Dinner is ready, and we’ll save the coconuts for dessert.”

We sat down on the ground, and the supper was served on our gourd-rind service, which answered the purpose admirably. My impatient boys had broken the nuts, which they found excellent, and they made themselves spoons of the shell. Jack had taken care the monkey had his share; they dipped the corner of their handkerchiefs in the milk, and let him suck them. They were going to break up some more nuts, after emptying them through the natural holes, but I stopped them, and called for a saw. I carefully divided the nuts with this instrument, and soon provided us each with a neat basin for our soup, to the great comfort of my dear wife, who was gratified by seeing us able to eat like civilized beings. Fritz begged now to enliven the repast by introducing his champaign. I consented; requesting him, however, to taste it himself before he served it. What was his mortification to find it vinegar! But we consoled ourselves by using it as sauce to our goose; a great improvement also to the fish. We had now to hear the history of our supper. Jack and Francis had caught the fish at the edge of the sea. My active wife had performed the most laborious duty, in rolling the hogshead to the place and breaking open the head.

We sat down on the ground, and dinner was served on our gourd-rind dishes, which worked perfectly. My eager boys had cracked the nuts, which they found delicious, and made spoons out of the shells. Jack made sure the monkey got his share; they dipped the corners of their handkerchiefs in the milk and let him suck on them. They were about to crack some more nuts after emptying them through the natural holes, but I stopped them and asked for a saw. I carefully split the nuts with this tool and soon provided each of us with a nice bowl for our soup, much to the delight of my dear wife, who was pleased to see us eating like civilized people. Fritz now wanted to spice up the meal by introducing his champagne. I agreed but asked him to taste it himself before serving it. To his dismay, he found it was vinegar! But we made the best of it by using it as a sauce for our goose; it was also a big improvement for the fish. Now we had to hear the story of our dinner. Jack and Francis had caught the fish at the edge of the sea. My hardworking wife had done the most difficult job, rolling the hogshead to the spot and breaking open the head.

The sun was going down as we finished supper, and, recollecting how rapidly night succeeded, we hastened to our tent, where we found our beds much more comfortable, from the kind attention of the good mother, who had collected a large addition of dried grass. After prayers, we all lay down; the monkey between Jack and Fritz, carefully covered with moss to keep him warm. The fowls went to their roost, as on the previous night, and, after our fatigue, we were all soon in a profound sleep.

The sun was setting as we finished dinner, and realizing how quickly night would fall, we hurried to our tent, where we found our beds much more comfortable thanks to the thoughtful care of the kind mother, who had gathered a large amount of dried grass. After saying our prayers, we all lay down with the monkey nestled between Jack and Fritz, carefully covered with moss to keep him warm. The chickens settled in for the night, just like the previous evening, and after our exhausting day, we all quickly fell into a deep sleep.

We had not slept long, when a great commotion among the dogs and fowls announced the presence of an enemy. My wife, Fritz, and I, each seizing a gun, rushed out.

We hadn’t been asleep for long when a huge uproar among the dogs and chickens signaled the presence of an intruder. My wife, Fritz, and I each grabbed a gun and rushed outside.

By the light of the moon, we saw a terrible battle going on: our brave dogs were surrounded by a dozen jackals, three or four were extended dead, but our faithful animals were nearly overpowered by numbers when we arrived. I was glad to find nothing worse than jackals; Fritz and I fired on them; two fell dead, and the others fled slowly, evidently wounded. Turk and Flora pursued and completed the business, and then, like true dogs, devoured their fallen foes, regardless of the bonds of relationship.

By the light of the moon, we witnessed a fierce battle unfolding: our brave dogs were surrounded by about a dozen jackals, three or four lay dead, but our loyal animals were almost overwhelmed by sheer numbers when we got there. I was relieved to find it was just jackals; Fritz and I shot at them; two went down, and the rest slowly retreated, clearly injured. Turk and Flora chased them down and finished the job, then, being true dogs, they devoured their fallen enemies, without caring about any familial ties.

All being quiet again, we retired to our beds; Fritz obtaining leave to drag the jackal he had killed towards the tent, to save it from the dogs, and to show to his brothers next morning. This he accomplished with difficulty, for it was as big as a large dog.

All was quiet again, so we went back to our beds; Fritz got permission to pull the jackal he had killed toward the tent to keep it away from the dogs and to show it to his brothers the next morning. He did this with some effort because it was as big as a large dog.

We all slept peacefully the remainder of the night, till the crowing of the cock awoke my wife and myself to a consultation on the business of the day.

We all slept soundly for the rest of the night, until the rooster's crow woke my wife and me up for a discussion about the day's business.


CHAPTER V.

“Well, my dear,” I began, “I feel rather alarmed at all the labours I see before me. A voyage to the vessel is indispensable, if we wish to save our cattle, and many other things that may be useful to us; on the other hand, I should like to have a more secure shelter for ourselves and our property than this tent.”

“Well, my dear,” I started, “I’m quite worried about all the work ahead of us. We need to get to the ship if we want to save our cattle and gather other things that might be useful; however, I would prefer a safer shelter for ourselves and our belongings than this tent.”

“With patience, order, and perseverance, all may be done,” said my good counsellor; “and whatever uneasiness your voyage may give me, I yield to the importance and utility of it. Let it be done to-day; and have no care for the morrow: sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof, as our blessed Lord has said.”

“With patience, order, and perseverance, anything is possible,” said my wise advisor; “and no matter how worried your journey makes me, I can see how important and useful it is. Let's get it done today, and don’t stress about tomorrow: today has enough trouble of its own, as our blessed Lord has said.”

It was then agreed that the three youngest children should remain with my wife; and Fritz, the strongest and most active, should accompany me.

It was then decided that the three youngest kids would stay with my wife, and Fritz, the strongest and most energetic, would come with me.

I then arose, and woke my children for the important duties of the day. Fritz jumped up the first, and ran for his jackal, which had stiffened in the cold of the night. He placed it on its four legs, at the entrance of the tent, to surprise his brothers; but no sooner did the dogs see it erect, than they flew at it, and would have torn it to pieces, if he had not soothed them and called them off. However, their barking effectually roused the boys, who rushed out to see the cause. Jack issued first with the monkey on his shoulder; but no sooner did the little creature see the jackal, than he sprang into the tent, and hid himself among the moss, till only the tip of his nose was visible. All were astonished to see this large yellow animal standing; Francis thought it was a wolf; Jack said it was only a dead dog, and Ernest, in a pompous tone, pronounced it to be a golden fox.

I then got up and woke my kids for the important tasks of the day. Fritz jumped up first and ran for his jackal, which had frozen overnight. He set it on its four legs at the entrance of the tent to surprise his brothers; but as soon as the dogs saw it standing, they lunged at it and almost tore it apart if he hadn’t calmed them down and called them off. However, their barking effectively woke the boys, who rushed out to see what was going on. Jack came out first with the monkey on his shoulder, but as soon as the little creature saw the jackal, it jumped back into the tent and hid among the moss, leaving only the tip of its nose visible. Everyone was surprised to see this big yellow animal standing; Francis thought it was a wolf, Jack said it was just a dead dog, and Ernest, in a pompous tone, declared it to be a golden fox.

Fritz laughed at the learned professor, who knew the agouti immediately, and now called a jackal a golden fox!

Fritz laughed at the knowledgeable professor, who recognized the agouti right away, but now called a jackal a golden fox!

“I judged by the peculiar characteristics,” said Ernest, examining it carefully.

“I guessed based on the unusual traits,” said Ernest, examining it closely.

“Oh! the characteristics!” said Fritz, ironically, “don’t you think it may be a golden wolf?”

“Oh! The traits!” said Fritz, sarcastically, “don’t you think it could be a golden wolf?”

“Pray don’t be so cross, brother,” said Ernest, with tears in his eyes, “perhaps you would not have known the name, if papa had not told you.”

“Please don’t be so upset, brother,” said Ernest, with tears in his eyes, “maybe you wouldn’t have known the name if dad hadn’t told you.”

I reproved Fritz for his ridicule of his brother, and Ernest for so easily taking offence; and, to reconcile all, I told them that the jackal partook of the nature of the wolf, the fox, and the dog. This discussion terminated, I summoned them to prayers, after which we thought of breakfast. We had nothing but biscuit, which was certainly dry and hard. Fritz begged for a little cheese with it; and Ernest, who was never satisfied like other people, took a survey of the unopened hogshead. He soon returned, crying “If we only had a little butter with our biscuit, it would be so good, papa!”

I scolded Fritz for making fun of his brother and Ernest for getting offended so easily. To patch things up, I explained that the jackal shares traits with the wolf, fox, and dog. After that discussion, I gathered them for prayers, and then we thought about breakfast. All we had were biscuits, which were definitely dry and hard. Fritz asked for a bit of cheese to go with them, and Ernest, who was never satisfied like everyone else, took a look at the unopened hogshead. He quickly came back, saying, “If we only had a little butter for our biscuits, it would taste so good, Dad!”

I allowed it would be good, but it was no use thinking of such a thing.

I thought it would be nice, but there was no point in considering it.

“Let us open the other cask,” said he, displaying a piece of butter he had extracted through a small crack on the side.

“Let’s open the other cask,” he said, showing a piece of butter he had pulled out through a small crack on the side.

“Your instinct for good things has been fortunate for us,” said I. “Come, boys, who wants bread and butter?”

“Your ability to spot good things has been lucky for us,” I said. “Come on, guys, who wants bread and butter?”

We began to consider how we should come at the contents of the hogshead, without exposing the perishable matter to the heat of the sun. Finally, I pierced a hole in the lower part of the cask, large enough for us to draw out the butter as we wanted it, by means of a little wooden shovel, which I soon made. We then sat down to breakfast with a cocoa-nut basin filled with good salt Dutch butter. We toasted our biscuit, buttered it hot, and agreed that it was excellent. Our dogs were sleeping by us as we breakfasted; and I remarked that they had bloody marks of the last night’s fray, in some deep and dangerous wounds, especially about the neck; my wife instantly dressed the wounds with butter, well washed in cold water; and the poor animals seemed grateful for the ease it gave them. Ernest judiciously remarked, that they ought to have spiked collars, to defend them from any wild beasts they might encounter.

We started thinking about how to access the contents of the cask without letting the perishable stuff spoil in the sun. Eventually, I made a hole in the bottom of the barrel, big enough for us to scoop out the butter we needed with a small wooden shovel that I crafted quickly. We then sat down for breakfast with a coconut bowl filled with great salt Dutch butter. We toasted our biscuits, buttered them while they were hot, and agreed it was delicious. Our dogs were snoozing nearby as we ate, and I noticed they had bloody marks from the fight the night before, with some serious wounds, especially around their necks. My wife promptly treated the wounds with butter that had been rinsed in cold water, and the poor animals seemed thankful for the relief it provided. Ernest wisely pointed out that they should have spiked collars to protect them from any wild animals they might run into.

“I will make them collars,” said Jack, who never hesitated at anything. I was glad to employ his inventive powers; and, ordering my children, not to leave their mother, during our absence, but to pray to God to bless our undertaking, we began our preparations for the voyage.

“I’ll make them collars,” said Jack, who never hesitated about anything. I was glad to make use of his creative skills; so, after telling my kids not to leave their mother while we were gone and to pray to God for a successful trip, we started getting ready for the voyage.

While Fritz made ready the boat, I erected a signal-post, with a piece of sailcloth for a flag, to float as long as all was going on well; but if we were wanted, they were to lower the flag, and fire a gun three times, when we would immediately return; for I had informed my dear wife it might be necessary for us to remain on board all night; and she consented to the plan, on my promising to pass the night in our tubs, instead of the vessel. We took nothing but our guns and ammunition; relying on the ship’s provisions. Fritz would, however, take the monkey, that he might give it some milk from the cow.

While Fritz prepared the boat, I set up a signal post with a piece of sailcloth as a flag to fly as long as everything was going well; but if we were needed, they were to lower the flag and fire three shots from a gun, then we would come back immediately. I had told my dear wife that we might need to stay on board all night, and she agreed to the plan, provided I promised to spend the night in our tubs instead of the ship. We took only our guns and ammunition, counting on the ship's supplies. However, Fritz did want to bring the monkey so he could give it some milk from the cow.

We took a tender leave of each other, and embarked. When we had rowed into the middle of the bay, I perceived a strong current formed by the water of the river which issued at a little distance, which I was glad to take advantage of, to spare our labour. It carried us three parts of our voyage, and we rowed the remainder; and entering the opening in the vessel, we secured our boat firmly, and went on board.

We said our goodbyes softly and set off. Once we had rowed to the middle of the bay, I noticed a strong current coming from the river nearby, which I was happy to use to make our work easier. It took us most of the way on our journey, and we rowed the rest. After entering the vessel, we secured our boat tightly and went on board.

The first care of Fritz was to feed the animals, who were on deck, and who all saluted us after their fashion, rejoiced to see their friends again, as well as to have their wants supplied. We put the young monkey to a goat, which he sucked with extraordinary grimaces, to our infinite amusement. We then took some refreshment ourselves, and Fritz, to my great surprise, proposed that we should begin by adding a sail to our boat. He said the current which helped us to the vessel, could not carry us back, but the wind which blew so strongly against us, and made our rowing so fatiguing, would be of great service, if we had a sail.

The first thing Fritz did was feed the animals on deck, who all greeted us in their own way, happy to see their friends again and to have their needs met. We let the young monkey suckle from a goat, which he did with some hilarious expressions that amused us endlessly. After that, we took a break to refresh ourselves, and to my surprise, Fritz suggested that we start by adding a sail to our boat. He explained that while the current had helped us reach the vessel, it wouldn’t carry us back. However, the strong wind blowing against us made rowing exhausting, and having a sail would be really helpful.

I thanked my counsellor for his good advice, and we immediately set to the task. I selected a strong pole for a mast, and a triangular sail, which was fixed to a yard. We made a hole in a plank, to receive the mast, secured the plank on our fourth tub, forming a deck, and then, by aid of a block used to hoist and lower the sails, raised our mast. Finally, two ropes fastened by one end to the yard, and by the other to each extremity of the boat, enabled us to direct the sail at pleasure. Fritz next ornamented the top of the mast with a little red streamer. He then gave our boat the name of the Deliverance, and requested it might henceforward be called the little vessel. To complete its equipment, I contrived a rudder, so that I could direct the boat from either end.

I thanked my counselor for his helpful advice, and we immediately got to work. I picked a sturdy pole for a mast and a triangular sail, which we attached to a yard. We drilled a hole in a plank to hold the mast, secured the plank on our fourth tub to create a deck, and then, with the help of a block to lift and lower the sails, we raised our mast. Finally, we tied two ropes, one end to the yard and the other ends to each side of the boat, allowing us to control the sail as we wanted. Fritz then decorated the top of the mast with a little red flag. He named our boat Deliverance and asked that it be referred to as the little vessel from then on. To finish equipping it, I made a rudder so I could steer the boat from either end.

After signalling to our friends that we should not return that night, we spent the rest of the day in emptying the tubs of the stones we had used for ballast, and replacing them with useful things. Powder and shot, nails and tools of all kinds, pieces of cloth; above all, we did not forget knives, forks, spoons, and kitchen utensils, including a roasting-jack. In the captain’s cabin we found some services of silver, pewter plates and dishes, and a small chest filled with bottles of choice wines. All these we took, as well as a chest of eatables, intended for the officers’ table, portable soup, Westphalian hams, Bologna sausages, &c.; also some bags of maize, wheat, and other seeds, and some potatoes. We collected all the implements of husbandry we could spare room for, and, at the request of Fritz, some hammocks and blankets; two or three handsome guns, and an armful of sabres, swords, and hunting-knives. Lastly, I embarked a barrel of sulphur, all the cord and string I could lay my hands on, and a large roll of sailcloth. The sulphur was intended to produce matches with. Our tubs were loaded to the edge; there was barely room left for us to sit, and it would have been dangerous to attempt our return if the sea had not been so calm.

After signaling to our friends that we wouldn't be going back that night, we spent the rest of the day emptying the tubs of the stones we had used as ballast and replacing them with useful items. We gathered powder and shot, nails and various tools, pieces of cloth; above all, we didn't forget knives, forks, spoons, and kitchen utensils, including a roasting jack. In the captain's cabin, we found some silverware, pewter plates and dishes, and a small chest filled with bottles of fine wine. We took all of these, along with a chest of food meant for the officers' table, portable soup, Westphalian hams, Bologna sausages, etc.; we also grabbed some bags of corn, wheat, and other seeds, and some potatoes. We collected all the farming tools we could fit, and at Fritz's request, some hammocks and blankets; we also took two or three nice guns, and a bunch of sabers, swords, and hunting knives. Lastly, I loaded a barrel of sulfur, all the cord and string I could find, and a large roll of sailcloth. The sulfur was meant to make matches. Our tubs were loaded to the brim; there was barely enough room for us to sit, and it would have been risky to try to head back if the sea hadn't been so calm.

Night arrived, we exchanged signals, to announce security on sea and land, and, after prayers for the dear islanders, we sought our tubs, not the most luxurious of dormitories, but safer than the ship. Fritz slept soundly; but I could not close my eyes, thinking of the jackals. I was, however, thankful for the protection they had in the dogs.

Night fell, we exchanged signals to indicate safety on both sea and land, and, after praying for the beloved islanders, we settled into our makeshift beds, which weren’t the fanciest accommodations but were safer than the ship. Fritz slept peacefully, but I couldn’t shut my eyes, worried about the jackals. Still, I felt grateful for the protection that the dogs provided.


CHAPTER VI.

As soon as day broke, I mounted on deck, to look through the telescope. I saw my wife looking towards us; and the flag, which denoted their safety, floating in the breeze. Satisfied on this important point, we enjoyed our breakfast of biscuit, ham, and wine, and then turned our thoughts to the means of saving our cattle. Even if we could contrive a raft, we could never get all the animals to remain still on it. We might venture the huge sow in the water, but the rest of the animals we found would not be able to swim to shore. At last Fritz suggested the swimming apparatus. We passed two hours in constructing them. For the cow and ass it was necessary to have an empty cask on each side, well bound in strong sailcloth, fastened by leather thongs over the back and under each animal. For the rest, we merely tied a piece of cork under their bodies; the sow only being unruly, and giving us much trouble. We then fastened a cord to the horns or neck of each animal, with a slip of wood at the end, for a convenient handle. Luckily, the waves had broken away part of the ship, and left the opening wide enough for the passage of our troop. We first launched the ass into the water, by a sudden push; he swam away, after the first plunge, very gracefully. The cow, sheep, and goats, followed quietly after. The sow was furious, and soon broke loose from us all, but fortunately reached the shore long before the rest.

As soon as day broke, I went up on deck to look through the telescope. I saw my wife looking toward us, and the flag that signified their safety was waving in the breeze. With that important matter settled, we enjoyed our breakfast of biscuits, ham, and wine, and then shifted our focus to how to save our cattle. Even if we managed to build a raft, there was no way we could keep all the animals still on it. We might attempt to put the big sow in the water, but the rest of the animals wouldn’t be able to swim to shore. Finally, Fritz suggested using swimming apparatus. We spent two hours making them. For the cow and donkey, we needed an empty barrel on each side, securely wrapped in strong sailcloth, tied with leather thongs over their backs and underneath them. For the others, we just tied a piece of cork under their bodies; the sow was the only one causing trouble and giving us a hard time. Then we attached a cord to the horns or neck of each animal, with a stick at the end for a convenient handle. Luckily, the waves had broken away part of the ship, creating an opening wide enough for our group to pass through. We first launched the donkey into the water with a quick push; he swam away gracefully after the initial splash. The cow, sheep, and goats followed quietly after. The sow, however, was frantic and soon broke away from us, but fortunately reached the shore long before the others.

We now embarked, fastening all the slips of wood to the stern of the boat, thus drawing our train after us; and the wind filling our sail, carried us smoothly towards the shore. Fritz exulted in his plan, as we certainly could never have rowed our boat, loaded as we were. I once more took out my telescope, and was remarking that our party on shore seemed making ready for some excursion, when a loud cry from Fritz filled me with terror. “We are lost! we are lost! see, what a monstrous fish!” Though pale with alarm, the bold boy had seized his gun, and, encouraged by my directions, he fired two balls into the head of the monster, as it was preparing to dart on the sheep. It immediately made its escape, leaving a long red track to prove that it was severely wounded.

We set off, securing all the pieces of wood to the back of the boat, pulling our train behind us. The wind filled our sail and smoothly carried us toward the shore. Fritz was thrilled with his plan, as there was no way we could have rowed the boat with all that weight. I pulled out my telescope again and noticed that our group on the shore seemed to be getting ready for some outing when a loud cry from Fritz terrified me. “We’re doomed! We’re doomed! Look, what a huge fish!” Although pale with fear, the brave boy grabbed his gun and, encouraged by my instructions, fired two shots into the creature's head as it was about to strike the sheep. It quickly swam away, leaving behind a long red trail to show it had been seriously wounded.

Being freed from our enemy, I now resumed the rudder, and we lowered the sail and rowed to shore. The animals, as soon as the water became low enough, walked out at their own discretion, after we had relieved them from their swimming girdles. We then secured our boat as before, and landed ourselves, anxiously looking round for our friends.

Being free from our enemy, I took over the steering again, and we lowered the sail and rowed to shore. The animals, as soon as the water got shallow enough, stepped out on their own after we took off their swimming harnesses. We then tied up our boat like before and went ashore, nervously scanning the area for our friends.

We had not long to wait, they came joyfully to greet us; and, after our first burst of pleasure, we sat down to tell our adventures in a regular form. My wife was overjoyed to see herself surrounded by these valuable animals; and especially pleased that her son Fritz had suggested so many useful plans. We next proceeded to disembark all our treasures. I noticed that Jack wore a belt of yellow skin, in which were placed a pair of pistols, and inquired where he had got his brigand costume.

We didn't have to wait long; they came happily to greet us, and after our initial excitement, we sat down to share our stories in an organized way. My wife was thrilled to be surrounded by these incredible animals and especially happy that our son Fritz had come up with so many useful ideas. Next, we started to unload all our treasures. I noticed that Jack was wearing a belt made of yellow skin, which held a pair of pistols, and I asked him where he got his bandit outfit.

“I manufactured it myself,” said he; “and this is not all. Look at the dogs!”

“I made it myself,” he said; “and that's not all. Look at the dogs!”

The dogs wore each a collar of the same skin as his belt, bristling with long nails, the points outwards—a formidable defence.

The dogs each wore a collar made of the same leather as their owner's belt, studded with long spikes, the points facing outward—a strong defense.

“It is my own invention,” said he; “only mamma helped me in the sewing.”

“It’s my own creation,” he said; “only Mom helped me with the sewing.”

“But where did you get the leather, the needle and thread?” inquired I.

“But where did you get the leather, the needle, and thread?” I asked.

“Fritz’s jackal supplied the skin,” said my wife, “and my wonderful bag the rest. There is still more to come from it, only say what you want.”

“Fritz’s jackal provided the skin,” my wife said, “and my amazing bag took care of the rest. There’s still more to come from it, just tell me what you want.”

Fritz evidently felt a little vexation at his brother’s unceremonious appropriation of the skin of the jackal, which displayed itself in the tone in which he exclaimed, holding his nose, “Keep at a distance, Mr. Skinner, you carry an intolerable smell about with you.”

Fritz clearly felt some annoyance at his brother’s rude taking of the jackal's skin, which showed in the way he said, holding his nose, “Stay away, Mr. Skinner, you have an unbearable stench.”

I gave him a gentle hint of his duty in the position of eldest son, and he soon recovered his good humour. However, as the body as well as the skin of the jackal was becoming offensive, they united in dragging it down to the sea, while Jack placed his belt in the sun to dry.

I gently reminded him of his responsibilities as the oldest son, and he quickly got his good mood back. However, since both the body and the skin of the jackal were getting unpleasant, they all came together to drag it down to the sea, while Jack laid his belt out in the sun to dry.

As I saw no preparation for supper, I told Fritz to bring the ham; and, to the astonishment and joy of all, he returned with a fine Westphalian ham, which we had cut into in the morning.

As I noticed there was no food being prepared for dinner, I asked Fritz to get the ham; and, to everyone's surprise and delight, he came back with a great Westphalian ham that we had sliced that morning.

“I will tell you,” said my wife, “why we have no supper prepared; but first, I will make you an omelet;” and she produced from a basket a dozen turtle’s eggs.

“I'll tell you,” my wife said, “why we don't have any dinner ready; but first, I’ll make you an omelet;” and she took a dozen turtle eggs out of a basket.

“You see,” said Ernest, “they have all the characteristics of those Robinson Crusoe had in his island. They are white balls, the skin of which resembles moistened parchment.”

“You see,” said Ernest, “they have all the characteristics of what Robinson Crusoe found on his island. They are white balls, and their skin looks like wet parchment.”

My wife promised to relate the history of the discovery after supper, and set about preparing her ham and omelet, while Fritz and I proceeded in unloading our cargo, assisted by the useful ass.

My wife promised to share the story of the discovery after dinner and began preparing her ham and omelet, while Fritz and I started unloading our cargo, with help from the handy donkey.

Supper was now ready. A tablecloth was laid over the butter-cask, and spread with the plates and spoons from the ship. The ham was in the middle, and the omelet and cheese at each end; and we made a good meal, surrounded by our subjects,—the dogs, the fowls, the pigeons, the sheep, and the goats, waiting for our notice. The geese and ducks were more independent, remaining in their marsh, where they lived in plenty on the small crabs which abounded there.

Supper was ready now. A tablecloth was spread over the butter barrel, with plates and spoons from the ship arranged on it. The ham was in the center, with the omelet and cheese at each end; we enjoyed a nice meal, surrounded by our subjects—the dogs, the chickens, the pigeons, the sheep, and the goats, all waiting for our attention. The geese and ducks were more self-sufficient, staying in their marsh where they feasted on the abundant small crabs.

After supper, I sent Fritz for a bottle of the captain’s Canary wine, and then requested my wife to give us her recital.

After dinner, I asked Fritz to get a bottle of the captain’s Canary wine, and then I asked my wife to give us her performance.


CHAPTER VII.

“I will spare you the history of the first day,” said my good Elizabeth, “spent in anxiety about you, and attending to the signals; but this morning, being satisfied that all was going right, I sought, before the boys got up, a shady place to rest in, but in vain; I believe this barren shore has not a single tree on it. Then I began to consider on the necessity of searching for a more comfortable spot for our residence; and determined, after a slight repast, to set out with my children across the river, on a journey of discovery. The day before, Jack had busied himself in skinning the jackal with his knife, sharpened on the rock; Ernest declining to assist him in his dirty work, for which I reproved him, sorry that any fastidiousness should deter him from a labour of benefit to society.

“I'll skip the details of the first day,” said my good Elizabeth, “spent worrying about you and watching for signs; but this morning, feeling confident that everything was going well, I looked for a shady spot to rest before the boys woke up, but I couldn’t find one. I think this barren shore doesn’t have a single tree on it. Then I started to think about the need to find a more comfortable place for us to stay; and I decided, after a small meal, to take my children across the river to explore. The day before, Jack had kept himself busy skinning the jackal with his knife, which he had sharpened on a rock; Ernest chose not to help him with that messy task, and I scolded him, regretting that any distaste he felt would keep him from contributing to something beneficial for society.

“Jack proceeded to clean the skin as well as he was able; then procured from the nail-chest some long flat-headed nails, and inserted them closely through the long pieces of skin he had cut for collars; he then cut some sailcloth, and made a double lining over the heads of the nails; and finished by giving me the delicate office of sewing them together, which I could not but comply with.

“Jack cleaned the skin as best as he could; then he got some long flat-headed nails from the nail chest and inserted them closely through the long strips of skin he had cut for collars. Next, he cut some sailcloth and made a double lining over the heads of the nails. He finished by giving me the delicate task of sewing them together, which I had no choice but to do.”

“His belt he first stretched on a plank, nailing it down, and exposing it to the sun, lest it should shrink in drying.

“First, he stretched his belt on a plank, nailing it down and leaving it in the sun so it wouldn't shrink as it dried.”

“Now for our journey: we took our game-bags and some hunting-knives. The boys carried provisions, and I had a large flask of water. I took a small hatchet, and gave Ernest a carbine, which might be loaded with ball; keeping his light gun for myself. I carefully secured the opening of the tent with the hooks. Turk went before, evidently considering himself our guide; and we crossed the river with some difficulty.

“Now for our journey: we grabbed our game bags and some hunting knives. The boys carried supplies, and I had a big water flask. I took a small hatchet and gave Ernest a carbine that could be loaded with a bullet, keeping the lighter gun for myself. I made sure to secure the tent opening with the hooks. Turk went ahead, clearly thinking he was our guide, and we crossed the river with some difficulty.”

“As we proceeded, I could not help feeling thankful that you had so early taught the boys to use fire-arms properly, as the defence of my youngest boy and myself now depended on the two boys of ten and twelve years of age.

“As we moved forward, I couldn’t help but feel grateful that you had taught the boys how to handle firearms early on, since my protection and that of my youngest son now relied on the two boys, who were just ten and twelve years old.”

“When we attained the hill you described to us, I was charmed with the smiling prospect, and, for the first time since our shipwreck, ventured to hope for better things. I had remarked a beautiful wood, to which I determined to make our way, for a little shade, and a most painful progress it was, through grass that was higher than the children’s heads. As we were struggling through it, we heard a strange rustling sound among the grass, and at the same moment a bird of prodigious size rose, and flew away, before the poor boys could get their guns ready. They were much mortified, and I recommended them always to have their guns in readiness, for the birds would not be likely to wait till they loaded them. Francis thought the bird was so large, it must be an eagle; but Ernest ridiculed the idea, and added that he thought it must be of the bustard tribe. We went forward to the spot from which it had arisen, when suddenly another bird of the same kind, though still larger, sprung up, close to our feet, and was soon soaring above our heads. I could not help laughing to see the look of astonishment and confusion with which the boys looked upwards after it. At last Jack took off his hat, and, making a low bow, said, ‘Pray, Mr. Bird, be kind enough to pay us another visit, you will find us very good children!’ We found the large nest they had left; it was rudely formed of dry grass, and empty, but some fragments of egg-shells were scattered near, as if the young had been recently hatched; we therefore concluded that they had escaped among the grass.

“When we reached the hill you told us about, I was pleased by the lovely view and, for the first time since our shipwreck, dared to hope for better days. I noticed a beautiful wooded area and decided we should head there for some shade, even though it was a tough trek through grass that was taller than the kids' heads. While we were pushing through, we heard a strange rustling in the grass, and suddenly a huge bird took off and flew away before the boys could get their guns ready. They were really disappointed, so I suggested they always keep their guns ready because the birds wouldn't wait for them to reload. Francis thought the bird was so big it must be an eagle, but Ernest laughed at that and said he thought it was probably a bustard. We moved to the spot where it had taken off, when suddenly another bird of the same kind, even bigger, jumped up right at our feet and quickly soared above us. I couldn't help but laugh at the look of shock and confusion on the boys' faces as they stared up at it. Finally, Jack took off his hat and, bowing, said, 'Please, Mr. Bird, come visit us again; you'll find we’re very good kids!' We discovered the large nest they had left behind; it was roughly made of dry grass and empty, but some bits of eggshell were scattered nearby, as if the young ones had just hatched; so we assumed they had escaped into the grass.”

“Doctor Ernest immediately began a lecture. ‘You observe, Francis, these birds could not be eagles, which do not form their nests on the ground. Neither do their young run as soon as they are hatched. These must be of the gallinaceous tribe, an order of birds such as quails, partridges, turkeys, &c.; and, from the sort of feathered moustache which I observed at the corner of the beak, I should pronounce that these were bustards.’

“Doctor Ernest immediately started a lecture. ‘You see, Francis, these birds cannot be eagles because they don't build their nests on the ground. Also, their young don't run as soon as they hatch. These must belong to the gallinaceous family, which includes birds like quails, partridges, turkeys, etc.; and based on the type of feathered moustache I noticed at the corner of the beak, I would say these are bustards.’”

“But we had now reached the little wood, and our learned friend had sufficient employment in scrutinizing, and endeavouring to classify, the immense number of beautiful, unknown birds, which sung and fluttered about us, apparently regardless of our intrusion.

“But we had now arrived at the small woods, and our knowledgeable friend was busy examining and trying to categorize the vast array of beautiful, unfamiliar birds that sang and flitted around us, seemingly unconcerned by our presence.”

“We found that what we thought a wood was merely a group of a dozen trees, of a height far beyond any I had ever seen; and apparently belonging rather to the air than the earth; the trunks springing from roots which formed a series of supporting arches. Jack climbed one of the arches, and measured the trunk of the tree with a piece of packthread. He found it to be thirty-four feet. I made thirty-two steps round the roots. Between the roots and the lowest branches, it seemed about forty or fifty feet. The branches are thick and strong, and the leaves are of a moderate size, and resemble our walnut-tree. A thick, short, smooth turf clothed the ground beneath and around the detached roots of the trees, and everything combined to render this one of the most delicious spots the mind could conceive.

“We discovered that what we thought was a forest was actually just a small group of about a dozen trees, towering far higher than any I had ever seen; they seemed to belong more to the sky than to the earth, with the trunks rising from roots that formed a series of supportive arches. Jack climbed one of the arches and measured the trunk of a tree using a piece of string. He found it to be thirty-four feet. I took thirty-two steps around the roots. From the roots to the lowest branches, it looked to be about forty or fifty feet. The branches are thick and sturdy, and the leaves are moderately sized, resembling those of a walnut tree. A dense, short, smooth grass covered the ground beneath and around the exposed roots of the trees, making it one of the most beautiful places one could imagine."

“Here we rested, and made our noon-day repast; a clear rivulet ran near us, and offered its agreeable waters for our refreshment. Our dogs soon joined us; but I was astonished to find they did not crave for food, but laid down to sleep at our feet. For myself, so safe and happy did I feel, that I could not but think that if we could contrive a dwelling on the branches of one of these trees, we should be in perfect peace and safety. We set out on our return, taking the road by the sea-shore, in case the waves had cast up anything from the wreck of the vessel. We found a quantity of timber, chests, and casks; but all too heavy to bring. We succeeded in dragging them, as well as we could, out of the reach of the tide; our dogs, in the mean time, fishing for crabs, with which they regaled themselves, much to their own satisfaction and to mine, as I now saw they would be able to provide their own food. As we rested from our rough labour, I saw Flora scratching in the sand, and swallowing something with great relish. Ernest watched, and then said, very quietly, ‘They are turtles’ eggs.’ We drove away the dog, and collected about two dozen, leaving her the rest as a reward for her discovery.

“Here we took a break and had our lunch; a clear stream ran nearby, providing us with refreshing water. Our dogs soon joined us, but I was surprised to see they didn't ask for food and just lay down to sleep at our feet. Personally, I felt so safe and happy that I couldn't help but think if we could build a house in the branches of one of these trees, we would be perfectly safe and at peace. We set off on our way back, taking the route along the shore in case the waves had washed up anything from the wreck. We found a lot of timber, chests, and barrels; however, they were all too heavy to carry. We managed to drag them as best as we could out of the tide's reach; meanwhile, our dogs were fishing for crabs, enjoying them to their heart's content, which made me happy to see they could find their own food. As we took a break from our hard work, I saw Flora digging in the sand and eagerly eating something. Ernest watched and then said very quietly, ‘They are turtle eggs.’ We shooed the dog away and collected about two dozen, leaving the rest for her as a reward for her find.”

“While we were carefully depositing our spoil in the game-bags, we were astonished at the sight of a sail. Ernest was certain it was papa and Fritz, and though Francis was in dread that it should be the savages who visited Robinson Crusoe’s island, coming to eat us up, we were soon enabled to calm his fears. We crossed the river by leaping from stone to stone, and, hastening to the landing-place, arrived to greet you on your happy return.”

“While we were carefully putting our catch in the game bags, we were shocked to see a sail. Ernest was sure it was Dad and Fritz, and although Francis was worried it might be the savages who visited Robinson Crusoe’s island, coming to eat us, we were soon able to ease his fears. We crossed the river by jumping from stone to stone, and, rushing to the landing area, we arrived just in time to welcome you back.”

“And I understand, my dear,” said I, “that you have discovered a tree sixty feet high, where you wish we should perch like fowls. But how are we to get up?”

“And I get it, my dear,” I said, “that you’ve found a tree sixty feet tall, where you want us to sit like birds. But how are we supposed to climb up?”

“Oh! you must remember,” answered she, “the large lime-tree near our native town, in which was a ball-room. We used to ascend to it by a wooden staircase. Could you not contrive something of the sort in one of these gigantic trees, where we might sleep in peace, fearing neither jackals nor any other terrible nocturnal enemy.”

“Oh! you must remember,” she replied, “the big lime tree near our hometown that had a ballroom. We used to climb up to it using a wooden staircase. Couldn’t you create something like that in one of these huge trees, where we could sleep peacefully, not worrying about jackals or any other scary nighttime threat?”

I promised to consider this plan, hoping at least that we might make a commodious and shady dwelling among the roots. To-morrow we were to examine it. We then performed our evening devotions, and retired to rest.

I promised to think about this plan, hoping that we could at least create a comfortable and shady home among the roots. Tomorrow we would check it out. Then we did our evening prayers and went to bed.


CHAPTER VIII.

“Now, my dear Elizabeth,” said I, waking early next morning, “let us talk a little on this grand project of changing our residence; to which there are many objections. First, it seems wise to remain on the spot where Providence has cast us, where we can have at once means of support drawn from the ship, and security from all attacks, protected by the rock, the river, and the sea on all sides.”

“Now, my dear Elizabeth,” I said, waking up early the next morning, “let’s discuss this big idea of moving. There are a lot of reasons against it. First, it makes sense to stay where fate has placed us, where we can easily support ourselves with resources from the ship and be safe from any threats, with the rock, the river, and the sea surrounding us.”

My wife distrusted the river, which could not protect us from the jackals, and complained of the intolerable heat of this sandy desert, of her distaste for such food as oysters and wild geese; and, lastly, of her agony of mind, when we ventured to the wreck; willingly renouncing all its treasures, and begging we might rest content with the blessings we already had.

My wife didn't trust the river, which couldn't shield us from the jackals, and she grumbled about the unbearable heat of this sandy desert, her dislike for foods like oysters and wild geese; and, finally, the mental anguish she felt when we went near the wreck; she would gladly give up all its treasures, asking that we be satisfied with the blessings we already had.

“There is some truth in your objections,” said I, “and perhaps we may erect a dwelling under the roots of your favourite tree; but among these rocks we must have a storehouse for our goods, and a retreat in case of invasion. I hope, by blowing off some pieces of the rock with powder, to be able to fortify the part next the river, leaving a secret passage known only to ourselves. This would make it impregnable. But before we proceed, we must have a bridge to convey our baggage across the river.

“There’s some truth in what you’re saying,” I replied, “and maybe we can build a shelter under the roots of your favorite tree; but among these rocks, we definitely need a storehouse for our supplies and a safe hideout in case we’re attacked. I’m planning to use some explosives to chip away at the rock near the river so we can fortify that area, leaving a secret passage that only we know about. That would make it impossible to breach. But before we move forward, we need a bridge to transport our things across the river.”

“A bridge,” said she, in a tone of vexation; “then when shall we get from here? Why cannot we ford it as usual? The cow and ass could carry our stores.”

“A bridge,” she said, sounding annoyed; “when are we going to get across? Why can’t we just cross it like we usually do? The cow and donkey could carry our supplies.”

I explained to her how necessary it was for our ammunition and provision to be conveyed over without risk of wetting, and begged her to manufacture some bags and baskets, and leave the bridge to me and my boys. If we succeeded, it would always be useful; as for fear of danger from lightning or accident, I intended to make a powder-magazine among the rocks.

I told her how important it was for our supplies and ammunition to be transported without getting wet and asked her to make some bags and baskets while I handled the bridge with my guys. If we pulled it off, it would always come in handy; as for worrying about lightning or accidents, I planned to build a powder magazine in the rocks.

The important question was now decided. I called up my sons, and communicated our plans to them. They were greatly delighted, though somewhat alarmed, at the formidable project of the bridge; besides, the delay was vexatious; they were all anxious for a removal into the Land of Promise, as they chose to call it.

The important question was now settled. I called my sons and shared our plans with them. They were very excited but a bit worried about the challenging idea of the bridge; also, the delay was frustrating. They were all eager to move to the Land of Promise, as they liked to call it.

We read prayers, and then thought of breakfast. The monkey sucked one of the goats, as if it had been its mother. My wife milked the cow, and gave us boiled milk with biscuit for our breakfast; part of which she put in a flask, for us to take on our expedition. We then prepared our boat for a voyage to the vessel, to procure planks and timber for our bridge. I took both Ernest and Fritz, as I foresaw our cargo would be weighty, and require all our hands to bring it to shore.

We said our prayers and then thought about breakfast. The monkey was nursing one of the goats like it was its mom. My wife milked the cow and made us boiled milk with biscuits for breakfast; she also saved some in a flask for us to take on our trip. We then got our boat ready to sail to the ship to get planks and timber for our bridge. I brought both Ernest and Fritz along because I knew our load would be heavy and we would need everyone to help bring it ashore.

We rowed vigorously till we got into the current, which soon carried us beyond the bay. We had scarcely reached a little isle at the entrance, when we saw a vast number of gulls and other sea-birds, fluttering with discordant cries over it. I hoisted the sail, and we approached rapidly; and, when near enough, we stepped on shore, and saw that the birds were feasting so eagerly on the remains of a huge fish, that they did not even notice our approach. We might have killed numbers, even with our sticks. This fish was the shark which Fritz had so skilfully shot through the head the night before. He found the marks of his three balls. Ernest drew his ramrod from his gun, and struck so vigorously right and left among the birds, that he killed some, and put the rest to flight. We then hastily cut off some pieces of the skin of the monster, which I thought might be useful, and placed them in our boat. But this was not the only advantage we gained by landing. I perceived an immense quantity of wrecked timber lying on the shore of the island, which would spare us our voyage to the ship. We selected such planks as were fit for our purpose; then, by the aid of our jack-screw and some levers we had brought with us, we extricated the planks from the sand, and floated them; and, binding the spars and yards together with cords, with the planks above them, like a raft, we tied them to the stern of our boat, and hoisted our sail.

We rowed hard until we got into the current, which quickly carried us past the bay. We had barely reached a small island at the entrance when we saw a huge number of gulls and other seabirds flapping around it with loud, chaotic cries. I raised the sail, and we moved in fast. When we got close enough, we stepped ashore and saw that the birds were so busy feasting on the remains of a giant fish that they didn’t even notice us coming. We could have easily taken a lot of them down with our sticks. The fish was the shark that Fritz had skillfully shot in the head the night before; he found the marks from his three shots. Ernest took out the ramrod from his gun and swung it so forcefully from side to side among the birds that he killed some and scared off the rest. We then quickly cut off some pieces of the shark’s skin, thinking they might come in handy, and put them in our boat. But that wasn’t the only benefit of landing there. I noticed a massive amount of wrecked timber lying on the shore of the island that would save us a trip to the ship. We picked out the planks that were usable, and then, with the help of our jack-screw and some levers we had brought, we pulled the planks out of the sand and floated them. After tying the spars and crossbeams together with cord, we placed the planks on top like a raft, secured them to the back of our boat, and hoisted our sail.

Fritz, as we sailed, was drying the shark’s skin, which I hoped to convert into files. And Ernest, in his usual reflective manner, observed to me, “What a beautiful arrangement of Providence it is, that the mouth of the shark should be placed in such a position that he is compelled to turn on his back to seize his prey, thus giving it a chance of escape; else, with his excessive voracity, he might depopulate the ocean.”

Fritz, while we were sailing, was drying the shark's skin, which I planned to turn into files. And Ernest, in his usual thoughtful way, said to me, "What a beautiful arrangement of Providence that the shark's mouth is positioned in such a way that it has to flip on its back to catch its prey, giving it a chance to escape; otherwise, with its insatiable hunger, it could wipe out the entire ocean."

At last, we reached our landing-place, and, securing our boat, and calling out loudly, we soon saw our friends running from the river; each carried a handkerchief filled with some new acquisition, and Francis had over his shoulder a small fishing-net. Jack reached us first, and threw down before us from his handkerchief some fine crawfish. They had each as many, forming a provision for many days.

At last, we arrived at our destination, and after securing our boat and shouting loudly, we soon spotted our friends running from the river. Each of them carried a handkerchief full of something new they had found, and Francis had a small fishing net slung over his shoulder. Jack reached us first and tossed down some nice crawfish from his handkerchief. They all had as many, providing food for several days.

Francis claimed the merit of the discovery. Jack related, that Francis and he took a walk to find a good place for the bridge.

Francis took credit for the discovery. Jack mentioned that Francis and he went for a walk to find a good spot for the bridge.

“Thank you, Mr. Architect,” said I; “then you must superintend the workmen. Have you fixed on your place?”

“Thank you, Mr. Architect,” I said. “So you need to oversee the workers. Have you decided on your location?”

“Yes, yes!” cried he; “only listen. When we got to the river, Francis, who was looking about, called out, ‘Jack! Jack! Fritz’s jackal is covered with crabs! Come!—come!’ I ran to tell mamma, who brought a net that came from the ship, and we caught these in a few minutes, and could have got many more, if you had not come.”

“Yes, yes!” he exclaimed. “Just listen. When we reached the river, Francis, who was looking around, shouted, ‘Jack! Jack! Fritz’s jackal is covered in crabs! Come!—come!’ I rushed to tell Mom, who got a net from the ship, and we caught these in just a few minutes, and we could’ve caught a lot more if you hadn't shown up.”

I commanded them to put the smaller ones back into the river, reserving only as many as we could eat. I was truly thankful to discover another means of support.

I told them to put the smaller ones back into the river, keeping only as many as we could eat. I was really grateful to find another way to support ourselves.

We now landed our timber. I had looked at Jack’s site for the bridge, and thought my little architect very happy in his selection; but it was at a great distance from the timber. I recollected the simplicity of the harness the Laplanders used for their reindeer. I tied cords to the horns of the cow—as the strength of this animal is in the head—and then fastened the other ends round the piece of timber we wanted moving. I placed a halter round the neck of the ass, and attached the cords to this. We were thus enabled, by degrees, to remove all our wood to the chosen spot, where the sides of the river were steep, and appeared of equal height.

We just unloaded our timber. I had checked out Jack’s spot for the bridge and thought my little architect was very pleased with his choice, but it was quite far from the timber. I remembered the simple harness that the Laplanders used for their reindeer. I tied cords to the horns of the cow—since the strength of this animal is in its head—and then fastened the other ends to the piece of timber we wanted to move. I put a halter around the donkey's neck and attached the cords to that. This way, we could gradually move all our wood to the selected spot, where the riverbanks were steep and seemed to be of equal height.

It was necessary to know the breadth of the river, to select the proper planks; and Ernest proposed to procure a ball of packthread from his mother, to tie a stone to one end of the string, and throw it across the river, and to measure it after drawing it back. This expedient succeeded admirably. We found the breadth to be eighteen feet; but, as I proposed to give the bridge strength by having three feet, at least, resting on each shore, we chose some planks of twenty-four feet in length. How we were to get these across the river was another question, which we prepared to discuss during dinner, to which my wife now summoned us.

We needed to find out how wide the river was to choose the right planks, so Ernest suggested we get a ball of string from his mom, tie a stone to one end, throw it across the river, and measure it once we pulled it back. This method worked perfectly. We measured the river and found it to be eighteen feet wide, but since I wanted to make the bridge strong by having at least three feet on each side, we picked planks that were twenty-four feet long. Figuring out how to get these across the river was another issue, which we planned to talk about during dinner, and my wife was now calling us to eat.

Our dinner consisted of a dish of crawfish, and some very good rice-milk. But, before we began, we admired her work. She had made a pair of bags for the ass, sewed with packthread; but having no large needles, she had been obliged to pierce holes with a nail, a tedious and painful process. Well satisfied with her success, we turned to our repast, talking of our bridge, which the boys, by anticipation, named the Nonpareil. We then went to work.

Our dinner included a dish of crawfish and some really good rice milk. But before we started eating, we admired her work. She had made a pair of bags for the donkey, sewn with heavy thread; but since she didn’t have any large needles, she had to make holes with a nail, which was a slow and painful process. Happy with her success, we focused on our meal, talking about our bridge, which the boys excitedly named the Nonpareil. We then got to work.

There happened to be an old trunk of a tree standing on the shore. To this I tied my main beam by a strong cord, loose enough to turn round the trunk. Another cord was attached to the opposite end of the beam, long enough to cross the river twice. I took the end of my rope over the stream, where we had previously fixed the block, used in our boat, to a tree, by the hook which usually suspended it. I passed my rope, and returned with the end to our own side. I then harnessed my cow and ass to the end of my rope, and drove them forcibly from the shore. The beam turned slowly round the trunk, then advanced, and was finally lodged over the river, amidst the shouts of the boys; its own weight keeping it firm. Fritz and Jack leaped on it immediately to run across, to my great fear.

There was an old tree trunk on the shore. I tied my main beam to it with a sturdy cord, loose enough to wrap around the trunk. Another cord was attached to the opposite end of the beam, long enough to cross the river twice. I took the end of my rope over the stream, where we had previously attached the block we used for our boat to a tree with the hook that usually held it. I threaded my rope through, then came back with the end to our side. Next, I hitched my cow and donkey to the end of my rope and drove them forward from the shore. The beam slowly rotated around the trunk, then moved forward, finally settling over the river, while the boys cheered; its own weight kept it steady. Fritz and Jack jumped on it right away to run across, which really worried me.

We succeeded in placing four strong beams in the same way; and, by the aid of my sons, I arranged them at a convenient distance from each other, that we might have a broad and good bridge. We then laid down planks close together across the beams; but not fixed, as in time of danger it might be necessary rapidly to remove the bridge. My wife and I were as much excited as the children, and ran across with delight. Our bridge was at least ten feet broad.

We successfully set up four sturdy beams in the same manner, and with the help of my sons, I spaced them out so that we could create a wide, solid bridge. Then we placed planks tightly together across the beams, but they weren't secured, since we might need to quickly take down the bridge in case of an emergency. My wife and I were just as thrilled as the kids, and we happily ran across it. Our bridge was at least ten feet wide.

Thoroughly fatigued with our day of labour, we returned home, supped, and offered thanks to God, and went to rest.

Exhausted from our day of work, we got home, had dinner, gave thanks to God, and went to bed.


CHAPTER IX.

The next morning, after prayers, I assembled my family. We took a solemn leave of our first place of refuge. I cautioned my sons to be prudent, and on their guard; and especially to remain together during our journey. We then prepared for departure. We assembled the cattle: the bags were fixed across the backs of the cow and the ass, and loaded with all our heavy baggage; our cooking utensils; and provisions, consisting of biscuits, butter, cheese, and portable soup; our hammocks and blankets; the captain’s service of plate, were all carefully packed in the bags, equally poised on each side the animals.

The next morning, after prayers, I gathered my family. We took a serious farewell to our first place of refuge. I warned my sons to be careful and stay alert, and especially to stick together during our journey. We then got ready to leave. We brought the cattle together: the bags were strapped across the backs of the cow and the donkey, loaded with all our heavy belongings; our cooking supplies; and food, including biscuits, butter, cheese, and instant soup; our hammocks and blankets; the captain’s set of dishes were all carefully packed in the bags, evenly balanced on both sides of the animals.

All was ready, when my wife came in haste with her inexhaustible bag, requesting a place for it. Neither would she consent to leave the poultry, as food for the jackals; above all, Francis must have a place; he could not possibly walk all the way. I was amused with the exactions of the sex; but consented to all, and made a good place for Francis between the bags, on the back of the ass.

Everything was ready when my wife rushed in with her never-ending bag, asking for a spot to put it. She also wouldn't agree to leave the poultry for the jackals; above all, Francis had to have a place since he definitely couldn't walk all the way. I found the demands of the ladies amusing, but I agreed to everything and made a nice spot for Francis between the bags on the back of the donkey.

The elder boys returned in despair,—they could not succeed in catching the fowls; but the experienced mother laughed at them, and said she would soon capture them.

The older boys came back feeling defeated—they couldn't manage to catch the chickens; but the wise mother laughed at them and said she would catch them in no time.

“If you do,” said my pert little Jack, “I will be contented to be roasted in the place of the first chicken taken.”

“If you do,” said my cheeky little Jack, “I’ll be happy to be cooked in place of the first chicken chosen.”

“Then, my poor Jack,” said his mother, “you will soon be on the spit. Remember, that intellect has always more power than mere bodily exertion. Look here!” She scattered a few handfuls of grain before the tent, calling the fowls; they soon all assembled, including the pigeons; then throwing more down inside the tent, they followed her. It was now only necessary to close the entrance; and they were all soon taken, tied by the wings and feet, and, being placed in baskets covered with nets, were added to the rest of our luggage on the backs of the animals.

“Then, my poor Jack,” said his mother, “you’ll soon be on the spit. Remember, that intelligence is always more powerful than just physical effort. Look here!” She scattered a few handfuls of grain in front of the tent, calling the birds; they quickly gathered, including the pigeons. Then, throwing more inside the tent, they followed her in. It was now just a matter of closing the entrance; and they were soon all captured, tied by their wings and feet, and placed in baskets covered with nets, which were added to the rest of our luggage on the backs of the animals.

Finally, we conveyed inside the tent all we could not carry away, closing the entrance, and barricading it with chests and casks, thus confiding all our possessions to the care of God. We set out on our pilgrimage, each carrying a game-bag and a gun. My wife and her eldest son led the way, followed by the heavily-laden cow and ass; the third division consisted of the goats, driven by Jack, the little monkey seated on the back of its nurse, and grimacing, to our great amusement; next came Ernest, with the sheep; and I followed, superintending the whole. Our gallant dogs acted as aides-de-camp, and were continually passing from the front to the rear rank.

Finally, we packed up everything we couldn’t take with us inside the tent, closed the entrance, and barricaded it with chests and barrels, trusting all our belongings to God. We set off on our journey, each of us carrying a game bag and a gun. My wife and our oldest son led the way, followed by the heavily loaded cow and donkey; the next group included the goats, with Jack, the little monkey, perched on its caretaker’s back and making funny faces, which amused us greatly; then came Ernest with the sheep; and I brought up the rear, overseeing everything. Our loyal dogs acted as helpers, constantly moving between the front and back of the group.

Our march was slow, but orderly, and quite patriarchal. “We are now travelling across the deserts, as our first fathers did,” said I, “and as the Arabs, Tartars, and other nomade nations do to this day, followed by their flocks and herds. But these people generally have strong camels to bear their burdens, instead of a poor ass and cow. I hope this may be the last of our pilgrimages.” My wife also hoped that, once under the shade of her marvellous trees, we should have no temptation to travel further.

Our journey was slow but organized and quite traditional. “We’re now crossing the deserts like our ancestors did,” I said, “and like the Arabs, Tartars, and other nomadic nations still do today, accompanied by their flocks and herds. But those people usually have sturdy camels to carry their loads, instead of just a weak donkey and a cow. I hope this is the last of our travels.” My wife also hoped that once we were under the shade of her beautiful trees, we wouldn’t feel the urge to keep moving.

We now crossed our new bridge, and here the party was happily augmented by a new arrival. The sow had proved very mutinous at setting out, and we had been compelled to leave her; she now voluntarily joined us, seeing we were actually departing; but continued to grunt loudly her disapprobation of our proceedings. After we had crossed the river, we had another embarrassment. The rich grass tempted our animals to stray off to feed, and, but for our dogs, we should never have been able to muster them again. But, for fear of further accident, I commanded my advanced guard to take the road by the coast, which offered no temptation to our troops.

We crossed our new bridge, and at that point, our group was happily joined by a new addition. The sow had been quite stubborn when we set out, forcing us to leave her behind; now, seeing that we were actually leaving, she decided to rejoin us but kept grunting loudly her disapproval of what we were doing. After we crossed the river, we faced another challenge. The lush grass tempted our animals to wander off to graze, and if it hadn’t been for our dogs, we probably wouldn’t have been able to gather them again. To avoid any more problems, I ordered my advanced guard to take the coastal route, which posed no temptation for our animals.

We had scarcely left the high grass when our dogs rushed back into it, barking furiously, and howling as if in combat; Fritz immediately prepared for action, Ernest drew near his mother, Jack rushed forward with his gun over his shoulder, and I cautiously advanced, commanding them to be discreet and cool. But Jack, with his usual impetuosity, leaped among the high grass to the dogs; and immediately returned, clapping his hands, and crying out, “Be quick, papa! a huge porcupine, with quills as long as my arm!”

We had barely left the tall grass when our dogs dashed back in, barking wildly and howling like they were fighting. Fritz quickly got ready, Ernest moved closer to his mom, Jack ran ahead with his gun slung over his shoulder, and I carefully moved forward, telling them to be discreet and calm. But Jack, being his usual impulsive self, jumped into the tall grass to find the dogs and quickly came back, clapping his hands and shouting, “Hurry, Dad! There’s a massive porcupine with quills as long as my arm!”

When I got up, I really found a porcupine, whom the dogs were warmly attacking. It made a frightful noise, erecting its quills so boldly, that the wounded animals howled with pain after every attempt to seize it. As we were looking at them Jack drew a pistol from his belt, and discharged it directly into the head of the porcupine, which fell dead. Jack was very proud of his feat, and Fritz, not a little jealous, suggested that such a little boy should not be trusted with pistols, as he might have shot one of the dogs, or even one of us. I forbade any envy or jealousy among the brothers, and declared that all did well who acted for the public good. Mamma was now summoned to see the curious animal her son’s valour had destroyed. Her first thought was to dress the wounds made by the quills which had stuck in the noses of the dogs during their attack. In the mean time, I corrected my son’s notions on the power of this animal to lance its darts when in danger. This is a popular error; nature has given it a sufficient protection in its defensive and offensive armour.

When I woke up, I really found a porcupine that the dogs were eagerly attacking. It made a terrifying noise, raising its quills so aggressively that the injured animals howled in pain after each attempt to catch it. As we watched, Jack pulled a pistol from his belt and shot it directly in the head, killing it instantly. Jack was really proud of his achievement, and Fritz, feeling a bit jealous, suggested that such a young boy shouldn’t be trusted with guns, as he might accidentally shoot one of the dogs or even one of us. I prohibited any envy or jealousy among the brothers and stated that everyone did well who acted for the common good. Mom was soon called to see the interesting animal that her son’s bravery had taken down. Her first thought was to tend to the wounds caused by the quills that had gotten stuck in the dogs’ noses during the attack. Meanwhile, I corrected my son's misconceptions about this animal’s ability to launch its quills when threatened. This is a common mistake; nature has equipped it with enough protection in its defensive and offensive armor.

As Jack earnestly desired to carry his booty with him, I carefully imbedded the body in soft grass, to preserve the quills; then packed it in strong cloth, and placed it on the ass behind Francis.

As Jack really wanted to take his prize with him, I gently tucked the body into soft grass to protect the quills, then wrapped it in sturdy cloth and set it on the donkey behind Francis.

At last, we arrived at the end of our journey,—and, certainly, the size of the trees surpassed anything I could have imagined. Jack was certain they were gigantic walnut-trees; for my own part, I believed them to be a species of fig-tree—probably the Antilles fig. But all thanks were given to the kind mother who had sought out such a pleasant home for us; at all events, we could find a convenient shelter among the roots. And, if we should ever succeed in perching on the branches, I told her we should be safe from all wild beasts. I would defy even the bears of our native mountains to climb these immense trunks, totally destitute of branches.

At last, we reached the end of our journey, and the size of the trees was beyond anything I could have imagined. Jack was sure they were gigantic walnut trees; as for me, I thought they were a type of fig tree—most likely the Antilles fig. But we were grateful to the kind mother who had found us such a lovely home; in any case, we could find a nice shelter among the roots. And if we ever managed to climb up into the branches, I told her we would be safe from all wild animals. I would challenge even the bears from our home mountains to climb these massive trunks, completely bare of branches.

We released our animals from their loads, tying their fore legs together, that they might not stray; except the sow, who, as usual, did her own way. The fowls and pigeons we released, and left to their own discretion. We then sat down on the grass, to consider where we should establish ourselves. I wished to mount the tree that very night. Suddenly we heard, to our no slight alarm, the report of a gun. But the next moment the voice of Fritz re-assured us. He had stolen out unnoticed, and shot a beautiful tiger-cat, which he displayed in great triumph.

We unloaded our animals and tied their front legs together so they wouldn’t wander off, except for the sow, who always did her own thing. We let the chickens and pigeons go and left them to figure things out for themselves. Then we sat on the grass to decide where to settle. I wanted to climb the tree that night. Suddenly, we heard a gunshot, which startled us. But then we heard Fritz’s voice, and it calmed us down. He had sneaked off without us noticing and shot a beautiful tiger-cat, which he proudly showed off.

“Well done, noble hunter!” said I; “you deserve the thanks of the fowls and pigeons; they would most probably have all fallen a sacrifice to-night, if you had not slain their deadly foe. Pray wage war with all his kind, or we shall not have a chicken left for the pot.”

“Well done, noble hunter!” I said. “You deserve the gratitude of the birds. They would likely have all been sacrificed tonight if you hadn't killed their deadly enemy. Please continue to fight against all his kind, or we won't have a single chicken left for dinner.”

Ernest then examined the animal with his customary attention, and declared that the proper name was the margay, a fact Fritz did not dispute, only requesting that Jack might not meddle with the skin, as he wished to preserve it for a belt. I recommended them to skin it immediately, and give the flesh to the dogs. Jack, at the same time, determined to skin his porcupine, to make dog-collars. Part of its flesh went into the soup-kettle, and the rest was salted for the next day. We then sought for some flat stones in the bed of the charming little river that ran at a little distance from us, and set about constructing a cooking-place. Francis collected dry wood for the fire; and, while my wife was occupied in preparing our supper, I amused myself by making some packing-needles for her rude work from the quills of the porcupine. I held a large nail in the fire till it was red-hot, then, holding the head in wet linen, I pierced the quills, and made several needles, of various sizes, to the great contentment of our indefatigable workwoman.

Ernest then examined the animal with his usual attention and stated that the correct name was the margay, a point Fritz didn't argue, only asking that Jack not interfere with the skin, as he wanted to keep it for a belt. I suggested they skin it right away and give the meat to the dogs. At the same time, Jack decided to skin his porcupine to make dog collars. Part of its meat went into the soup pot, and the rest was salted for the next day. We then looked for some flat stones in the lovely little river nearby and started building a cooking area. Francis gathered dry wood for the fire, and while my wife was busy preparing our dinner, I entertained myself by making some packing needles from the porcupine's quills for her handiwork. I heated a large nail in the fire until it was red-hot, then, holding the head in wet cloth, I pierced the quills and made several needles of different sizes, much to the delight of our tireless worker.

Still occupied with the idea of our castle in the air, I thought of making a ladder of ropes; but this would be useless, if we did not succeed in getting a cord over the lower branches, to draw it up. Neither my sons nor myself could throw a stone, to which I had fastened a cord, over these branches, which were thirty feet above us. It was necessary to think of some other expedient. In the mean time, dinner was ready. The porcupine made excellent soup, and the flesh was well-tasted, though rather hard. My wife could not make up her mind to taste it, but contented herself with a slice of ham and some cheese.

Still focused on our dream of the castle in the air, I thought about making a rope ladder, but that would be pointless if we couldn't get a line over the lower branches to pull it up. Neither my sons nor I could throw a rock tied to a cord over those branches that were thirty feet above us. We had to come up with another solution. In the meantime, dinner was ready. The porcupine made great soup, and the meat tasted good, although it was a bit tough. My wife couldn’t bring herself to try it, so she stuck with a slice of ham and some cheese.


CHAPTER X.

After dinner, as I found we could not ascend at present, I suspended our hammocks under the arched roots of our tree, and, covering the whole with sailcloth, we had a shelter from the dew and the insects.

After dinner, since I realized we couldn't go up right now, I set up our hammocks under the arched roots of our tree, and by covering everything with sailcloth, we had protection from the dew and the insects.

While my wife was employed making harness for the cow and ass, I went with my sons to the shore, to look for wood fit for our use next day. We saw a great quantity of wreck, but none fit for our purpose, till Ernest met with a heap of bamboo canes, half buried in sand and mud. These were exactly what I wanted. I drew them out of the sand, stripped them of their leaves, cut them in pieces of about four or five feet long, and my sons each made up a bundle to carry home. I then set out to seek some slender stalks to make arrows, which I should need in my project.

While my wife worked on making harnesses for the cow and donkey, I took my sons to the shore to look for wood we could use the next day. We found a lot of wreckage, but nothing useful until Ernest stumbled upon a pile of bamboo canes, half-buried in sand and mud. These were exactly what I needed. I pulled them out of the sand, stripped off the leaves, and cut them into pieces about four or five feet long. My sons each made a bundle to carry home. Then, I set out to find some slender stalks to make arrows, which I would need for my project.

We went towards a thick grove, which appeared likely to contain something for my purpose. We were very cautious, for fear of reptiles or other dangerous animals, allowing Flora to precede us. When we got near, she darted furiously among the bushes, and out flew a troop of beautiful flamingoes, and soared into the air. Fritz, always ready, fired at them. Two fell; one quite dead, the other, slightly wounded in the wing, made use of its long legs so well that it would have escaped, if Flora had not seized it and held it till I came up to take possession. The joy of Fritz was extreme, to have this beautiful creature alive. He thought at once of curing its wound, and domesticating it with our own poultry.

We headed toward a dense grove that seemed likely to have what I was looking for. We were really careful, worried about snakes or other dangerous animals, letting Flora lead the way. When we got close, she darted wildly through the bushes, and out flew a group of stunning flamingos, soaring into the sky. Fritz, always ready, took a shot at them. Two fell; one was completely dead, while the other, lightly wounded in the wing, used its long legs so well that it would have escaped if Flora hadn't caught it and held it until I arrived to claim it. Fritz was extremely excited to have this beautiful creature alive. He immediately thought about healing its wound and raising it with our own poultry.

“What splendid plumage!” said Ernest; “and you see he is web-footed, like the goose, and has long legs like the stork; thus he can run as fast on land as he can swim in the water,”

“What beautiful feathers!” said Ernest; “and you can see he has webbed feet, like a goose, and long legs like a stork; so he can run as fast on land as he can swim in water.”

“Yes,” said I, “and fly as quickly in the air. These birds are remarkable for the power and strength of their wings. Few birds have so many advantages.”

“Yeah,” I said, “and they can fly really fast in the air. These birds are impressive because of how powerful and strong their wings are. Not many birds have so many advantages.”

My boys occupied themselves in binding their captive and dressing his wound; while I sought some of the canes which had done flowering, to cut off the hard ends, to point my arrows. These are used by the savages of the Antilles. I then selected the highest canes I could meet with, to assist me in measuring, by a geometrical process, the height of the tree. Ernest took the canes, I had the wounded flamingo, and Fritz carried his own game. Very loud were the cries of joy and astonishment at our approach. The boys all hoped the flamingo might be tamed, of which I felt no doubt; but my wife was uneasy, lest it should require more food than she could spare. However, I assured her, our new guest would need no attention, as he would provide for himself at the river-side, feeding on small fishes, worms, and insects. His wounds I dressed, and found they would soon be healed; I then tied him to a stake, near the river, by a cord long enough to allow him to fish at his pleasure, and, in fact, in a few days, he learned to know us, and was quite domesticated. Meantime, my boys had been trying to measure the tree with the long canes I had brought, and came laughing to report to me, that I ought to have got them ten times as long to reach even the lowest branches. “There is a simpler mode than that,” said I, “which geometry teaches us, and by which the highest mountains can be measured.”

My boys were busy tying up our captive and treating his wound while I looked for some canes that had finished flowering to cut off the hard ends and point my arrows. These are used by the natives of the Antilles. I then chose the tallest canes I could find to help me measure the height of the tree using a geometrical method. Ernest took the canes, I had the injured flamingo, and Fritz carried his own catch. The cheers of joy and surprise were loud as we approached. The boys were all hopeful that the flamingo could be tamed, which I was confident about; however, my wife was worried it might need more food than she could provide. I assured her that our new guest would take care of himself by the river, eating small fish, worms, and insects. I treated his wounds, which would heal quickly; then I tied him to a stake near the river with a cord long enough for him to fish whenever he wanted, and within a few days, he learned to recognize us and became quite domesticated. Meanwhile, my boys had been trying to measure the tree with the long canes I had brought and came laughing to tell me that I should have gotten them ten times as long to reach even the lowest branches. “There’s an easier way to do that,” I said, “which geometry teaches us and can be used to measure even the highest mountains.”

I then showed the method of measuring heights by triangles and imaginary lines, using canes of different lengths and cords instead of mathematical instruments. My result was thirty feet to the lowest branches. This experiment filled the boys with wonder and desire to become acquainted with this useful, exact science, which, happily, I was able to teach them fully.

I then demonstrated how to measure heights using triangles and imaginary lines, with sticks of different lengths and strings instead of math tools. I found the lowest branches were thirty feet high. This experiment amazed the boys and sparked their interest in learning this practical, precise science, which I was lucky enough to teach them thoroughly.

I now ordered Fritz to measure our strong cord, and the little ones to collect all the small string, and wind it. I then took a strong bamboo and made a bow of it, and some arrows of the slender canes, filling them with wet sand to give them weight, and feathering them from the dead flamingo. As soon as my work was completed, the boys crowded round me, all begging to try the bow and arrows. I begged them to be patient, and asked my wife to supply me with a ball of thick strong thread. The enchanted bag did not fail us; the very ball I wanted appeared at her summons. This, my little ones declared, must be magic; but I explained to them, that prudence, foresight, and presence of mind in danger, such as their good mother had displayed, produced more miracles than magic.

I told Fritz to measure our strong cord, and the little ones to gather all the small string and wind it up. Then, I took a sturdy bamboo and made a bow, using some slender canes for arrows, filling them with wet sand for weight, and feathering them with feathers from the dead flamingo. As soon as I finished, the boys surrounded me, all eager to try the bow and arrows. I asked them to be patient and asked my wife to give me a ball of thick, strong thread. The enchanted bag didn't let us down; the exact ball I needed appeared when she called for it. My little ones said this must be magic, but I told them that being wise, prepared, and calm in danger, like their amazing mother had been, creates more miracles than magic ever could.

I then tied the end of the ball of thread to one of my arrows, fixed it in my bow, and sent it directly over one of the thickest of the lower branches of the tree, and, falling to the ground, it drew the thread after it. Charmed with this result, I hastened to complete my ladder. Fritz had measured our ropes, and found two of forty feet each,—exactly what I wanted. These I stretched on the ground at about one foot distance from each other; Fritz cut pieces of cane two feet long, which Ernest passed to me. I placed these in knots which I had made in the cords, at about a foot distance from each other, and Jack fastened each end with a long nail, to prevent it slipping. In a very short time our ladder was completed; and, tying it to the end of the cord which went over the branch, we drew it up without difficulty. All the boys were anxious to ascend; but I chose Jack, as the lightest and most active. Accordingly, he ascended, while his brothers and myself held the ladder firm by the end of the cord. Fritz followed him, conveying a bag with nails and hammer. They were soon perched on the branches, huzzaing to us. Fritz secured the ladder so firmly to the branch, that I had no hesitation in ascending myself. I carried with me a large pulley fixed to the end of a rope, which I attached to a branch above us, to enable us to raise the planks necessary to form the groundwork of our habitation. I smoothed the branches a little by aid of my axe, sending the boys down to be out of my way. After completing my day’s work, I descended by the light of the moon, and was alarmed to find that Fritz and Jack were not below; and still more so, when I heard their clear, sweet voices, at the summit of the tree, singing the evening hymn, as if to sanctify our future abode. They had climbed the tree, instead of descending, and, filled with wonder and reverence at the sublime view below them, had burst out into the hymn of thanksgiving to God.

I then tied the end of the ball of thread to one of my arrows, fixed it in my bow, and shot it straight over one of the thickest lower branches of the tree. When it fell to the ground, it pulled the thread after it. Excited by this result, I rushed to finish my ladder. Fritz had measured our ropes and found two that were each forty feet long—exactly what I needed. I laid them out on the ground about a foot apart, and Fritz cut pieces of cane two feet long, which Ernest passed to me. I placed these in knots I had made in the cords, spaced about a foot apart, and Jack secured each end with a long nail to keep it from slipping. Before long, our ladder was finished, and we tied it to the end of the cord over the branch and pulled it up easily. All the boys were eager to climb, but I chose Jack since he was the lightest and most agile. He went up while his brothers and I held the ladder steady by the end of the cord. Fritz followed him, carrying a bag with nails and a hammer. They soon settled on the branches, cheering us on. Fritz secured the ladder so tightly to the branch that I felt confident about climbing up myself. I brought a large pulley attached to a rope, which I secured to a branch above us to help us lift the planks we needed to build the base of our home. I smoothed the branches a bit with my axe, sending the boys down to be out of my way. After finishing my work for the day, I descended in the moonlight and was startled to see that Fritz and Jack were not below. I was even more surprised when I heard their clear, sweet voices at the top of the tree, singing the evening hymn as if to bless our future home. They had climbed the tree instead of coming down and, filled with wonder and respect at the stunning view below them, burst into a hymn of thanksgiving to God.

I could not scold my dear boys, when they descended, but directed them to assemble the animals, and to collect wood, to keep up fires during the night, in order to drive away any wild beasts that might be near.

I couldn't scold my dear boys when they came down, but I told them to gather the animals and collect wood to keep the fires going at night to scare away any wild animals that might be nearby.

My wife then displayed her work,—complete harness for our two beasts of burden, and, in return, I promised her we would establish ourselves next day in the tree. Supper was now ready, one piece of the porcupine was roasted by the fire, smelling deliciously; another piece formed a rich soup; a cloth was spread on the turf; the ham, cheese, butter, and biscuits, were placed upon it.

My wife then showed off her work—complete harnesses for our two pack animals. In return, I promised her that we would settle in the tree the next day. Dinner was ready; one piece of porcupine was roasting over the fire, smelling amazing, while another piece made a hearty soup. A cloth was spread out on the grass, and the ham, cheese, butter, and biscuits were laid out on it.

My wife first assembled the fowls, by throwing some grain to them, to accustom them to the place. We soon saw the pigeons fly to roost on the higher branches of the trees, while the fowls perched on the ladder; the beasts we tied to the roots, close to us. Now, that our cares were over, we sat down to a merry and excellent repast by moonlight. Then, after the prayers of the evening, I kindled our watch-fires, and we all lay down to rest in our hammocks. The boys were rather discontented, and complained of their cramped position, longing for the freedom of their beds of moss; but I instructed them to lie, as the sailors do, diagonally, and swinging the hammock, and told them that brave Swiss boys might sleep as the sailors of all nations were compelled to sleep. After some stifled sighs and groans, all sank to rest except myself, kept awake by anxiety for the safety of the rest.

My wife first gathered the birds by throwing some grain to them, so they would get used to the place. Soon, we noticed the pigeons flying to roost on the higher branches of the trees while the chickens perched on the ladder. We tied the animals to the roots, close to us. Now that our tasks were done, we sat down to a joyful and delicious meal by moonlight. After saying our evening prayers, I lit our watch fires, and we all lay down to rest in our hammocks. The boys were a bit restless and complained about being cramped, wishing for the freedom of their beds made of moss. I taught them to lie diagonally like sailors do and to swing the hammock, telling them that brave Swiss boys could sleep like sailors from all over. After a few muffled sighs and groans, everyone fell asleep except for me, kept awake by worry for their safety.


CHAPTER XI.

My anxiety kept me awake till near morning, when, after a short sleep, I rose, and we were soon all at work. My wife, after milking the cow and goats, harnessed the cow and ass, and set out to search for drift-wood for our use. In the mean time, I mounted the ladder with Fritz, and we set to work stoutly, with axe and saw, to rid ourselves of all useless branches. Some, about six feet above our foundation, I left, to suspend our hammocks from, and others, a little higher, to support the roof, which, at present, was to be merely sailcloth. My wife succeeded in collecting us some boards and planks, which, with her assistance, and the aid of the pulley, we hoisted up. We then arranged them on the level branches close to each other, in such a manner as to form a smooth and solid floor. I made a sort of parapet round, to prevent accidents. By degrees, our dwelling began to assume a distinct form; the sailcloth was raised over the high branches, forming a roof; and, being brought down on each side, was nailed to the parapet. The immense trunk protected the back of our apartment, and the front was open to admit the breeze from the sea, which was visible from this elevation. We hoisted our hammocks and blankets by the pulley, and suspended them; my son and I then descended, and, as our day was not yet exhausted, we set about constructing a rude table and some benches, from the remainder of our wood, which we placed beneath the roots of the tree, henceforward to be our dining-room. The little boys collected the chips and pieces of wood for fire-wood; while their mamma prepared supper, which we needed much after the extraordinary fatigues of this day.

My anxiety kept me awake until almost morning, and after a short sleep, I got up, and soon we were all busy. My wife, after milking the cow and goats, harnessed the cow and donkey and went out to look for driftwood for us to use. Meanwhile, I climbed the ladder with Fritz, and we got to work quickly with the axe and saw to get rid of all the useless branches. I left some about six feet above our base to hang our hammocks from, and others a bit higher to support the roof, which was just going to be sailcloth for now. My wife managed to gather some boards and planks, which, with her help and the pulley, we hoisted up. We then arranged them on the level branches close together to create a smooth and solid floor. I built a sort of railing around to prevent accidents. Gradually, our home started to take shape; the sailcloth was raised over the high branches to make a roof, and it was brought down on each side and nailed to the railing. The massive trunk protected the back of our space, and the front was open to let in the sea breeze, which we could see from this height. We hoisted our hammocks and blankets up using the pulley and hung them; then my son and I came down, and since it was still early, we started building a rough table and some benches from the leftover wood, which we placed under the tree roots, making that our dining area. The little boys gathered the scraps and pieces of wood for firewood, while their mom prepared dinner, which we really needed after the exhausting work of the day.

The next day, however, being Sunday, we looked forward to as a day of rest, of recreation, and thanksgiving to the great God who had preserved us.

The next day, however, being Sunday, we looked forward to it as a day of rest, recreation, and gratitude to the great God who had kept us safe.

Supper was now ready, my wife took a large earthen pot from the fire, which contained a good stew, made of the flamingo, which Ernest had told her was an old bird, and would not be eatable, if dressed any other way. His brothers laughed heartily, and called him the cook. He was, however, quite right, the stew, well seasoned, was excellent, and we picked the very bones. Whilst we were thus occupied, the living flamingo, accompanying the rest of the fowls, and free from bonds, came in, quite tame, to claim his share of the repast, evidently quite unsuspicious that we were devouring his mate; he did not seem at all inclined to quit us. The little monkey, too, was quite at home with the boys, leaping from one to another for food, which he took in his forepaws, and ate with such absurd mimicry of their actions, that he kept us in continual convulsions of laughter. To augment our satisfaction, our great sow, who had deserted us for two days, returned of her own accord, grunting her joy at our re-union. My wife welcomed her with particular distinction, treating her with all the milk we had to spare; for, as she had no dairy utensils to make cheese and butter, it was best thus to dispose of our superfluity. I promised her, on our next voyage to the ship, to procure all these necessaries. This she could not, however, hear of, without shuddering.

Supper was ready, and my wife took a large earthen pot from the fire, which held a delicious stew made from the flamingo. Ernest had told her it was an old bird and wouldn’t be good if cooked any other way. His brothers laughed loudly and called him the cook. He was right, though; the stew was well-seasoned and excellent, and we picked the bones clean. While we were busy eating, the living flamingo, along with the other birds and free from restraints, came in, completely tame, to get its share of the meal, totally unaware that we were eating its mate; it didn’t seem at all inclined to leave us. The little monkey was also very comfortable with the boys, jumping from one to the other for food, which he took in his front paws and ate with such ridiculous imitation of their actions that he kept us laughing uncontrollably. To add to our happiness, our large sow, who had left us for two days, returned of her own accord, grunting her joy at being back together. My wife greeted her with special attention, treating her to all the extra milk we had; since she had no dairy utensils to make cheese and butter, it was best to use up our excess this way. I promised her that on our next trip to the ship, I would get all the necessary items. However, she couldn’t hear that without shuddering.

The boys now lighted the fires for the night. The dogs were tied to the roots of the tree, as a protection against invaders, and we commenced our ascent. My three eldest sons soon ran up the ladder, my wife followed, with more deliberation, but arrived safely; my own journey was more difficult, as, besides having to carry Francis on my back, I had detached the lower part of the ladder from the roots, where it was nailed; in order to be able to draw it up during the night. We were thus as safe in our castle as the knights of old, when their drawbridge was raised. We retired to our hammocks free from care, and did not wake till the sun shone brightly in upon us.

The boys lit the fires for the night. The dogs were tied to the tree roots as a safeguard against intruders, and we began our climb. My three oldest sons quickly ran up the ladder, followed by my wife, who took her time but made it up safely; my journey was harder since I had to carry Francis on my back and had detached the bottom part of the ladder from the roots where it was nailed, so I could pull it up during the night. We were as secure in our castle as the knights of old were when their drawbridge was raised. We settled into our hammocks without a care and didn't wake until the sun shone brightly on us.


CHAPTER XII.

Next morning, all awoke in good spirits; I told them that on this, the Lord’s day, we would do no work. That it was appointed, not only for a day of rest, but a day when we must, as much as possible, turn our hearts from the vanities of the world, to God himself; thank him, worship him, and serve him. Jack thought we could not do this without a church and a priest; but Ernest believed that God would hear our prayers under his own sky, and papa could give them a sermon; Francis wished to know if God would like to hear them sing the beautiful hymns mamma had taught them, without an organ accompaniment.

The next morning, everyone woke up feeling good. I told them that since it was the Lord’s day, we wouldn’t be doing any work. It was meant not just for resting, but for a day when we should, as much as we can, shift our focus from the distractions of the world to God himself; to thank him, worship him, and serve him. Jack thought we couldn’t do this without a church and a priest; but Ernest believed that God would hear our prayers under the open sky, and that Dad could give them a sermon. Francis wanted to know if God would enjoy listening to them sing the beautiful hymns mom had taught them, even without an organ to play along.

“Yes, my dear children,” said I, “God is everywhere; and to bless him, to praise him in all his works, to submit to his holy will, and to obey him,—is to serve him. But everything in its time. Let us first attend to the wants of our animals, and breakfast, and we will then begin the services of the day by a hymn.”

“Yes, my dear children,” I said, “God is everywhere; and to bless him, to praise him for all his works, to accept his holy will, and to obey him—is to serve him. But everything in its own time. Let’s first take care of our animals and have breakfast, and then we’ll start our day’s services with a hymn.”

We descended, and breakfasted on warm milk, fed our animals, and then, my children and their mother seated on the turf, I placed myself on a little eminence before them, and, after the service of the day, which I knew by heart, and singing some portions of the 119th Psalm, I told them a little allegory.

We went down, had breakfast with warm milk, took care of our animals, and then, with my kids and their mom sitting on the grass, I found a little rise to sit on in front of them. After going through the daily service that I had memorized and singing some parts of the 119th Psalm, I shared a little allegory with them.

“There was once on a time a great king, whose kingdom was called the Land of Light and Reality, because there reigned there constant light and incessant activity. On the most remote frontier of this kingdom, towards the north, there was another large kingdom, equally subject to his rule, and of which none but himself knew the immense extent. From time immemorial, an exact plan of this kingdom had been preserved in the archives. It was called the Land of Obscurity, or Night, because everything in it was dark and inactive.

Once upon a time, there was a great king whose kingdom was called the Land of Light and Reality, because it was always filled with light and activity. At the far northern border of this kingdom, there was another large kingdom, also under his rule, but its vast extent was known only to him. For ages, an accurate map of this kingdom had been kept in the archives. It was known as the Land of Obscurity, or Night, because everything there was dark and lifeless.

“In the most fertile and agreeable part of the empire of Reality, the king had a magnificent residence, called The Heavenly City, where he held his brilliant court. Millions of servants executed his wishes—still more were ready to receive his orders. The first were clothed in glittering robes, whiter than snow—for white was the colour of the Great King, as the emblem of purity. Others were clothed in armour, shining like the colours of the rainbow, and carried flaming swords in their hands. Each, at his master’s nod, flew like lightning to accomplish his will. All his servants—faithful, vigilant, bold, and ardent—were united in friendship, and could imagine no happiness greater than the favour of their master. There were some, less elevated, who were still good, rich, and happy in the favours of their sovereign, to whom all his subjects were alike, and were treated by him as his children.

“In the most fertile and pleasant part of the empire of Reality, the king had an impressive residence, called The Heavenly City, where he held his splendid court. Millions of servants fulfilled his wishes—many more were ready to take his orders. The first group was dressed in shining robes, whiter than snow—since white was the color of the Great King, symbolizing purity. Others wore armor that shimmered like the colors of the rainbow and carried flaming swords. Each, at their master's signal, would rush like lightning to carry out his commands. All his servants—loyal, watchful, brave, and enthusiastic—were bonded in friendship, imagining no greater happiness than the favor of their master. There were some, less prominent, who were still good, wealthy, and happy in the graces of their sovereign, to whom all his subjects were equal and were treated by him as his own children.”

“Not far from the frontiers, the Great King possessed a desert island, which he desired to people and cultivate, in order to make it, for a time, the abode of those of his subjects whom he intended to admit, by degrees, into his Heavenly City—a favour he wished to bestow on the greatest number possible.

“Not far from the borders, the Great King owned a desert island that he wanted to populate and farm, aiming to make it temporarily the home for some of his subjects whom he planned to gradually welcome into his Heavenly City—a privilege he wanted to offer to as many as possible.

“This island was called Earthly Abode; and he who had passed some time there, worthily, was to be received into all the happiness of the heavenly city. To attain this, the Great King equipped a fleet to transport the colonists, whom he chose from the kingdom of Night, to this island, where he gave them light and activity—advantages they had not known before. Think how joyful their arrival would be! The island was fertile when cultivated; and all was prepared to make the time pass agreeably, till they were admitted to their highest honours.

“This island was called Earthly Abode; and anyone who spent some time there, living righteously, would be welcomed into all the happiness of the heavenly city. To make this happen, the Great King organized a fleet to bring the colonists he selected from the kingdom of Night to this island, where he provided them with light and energy—benefits they had never experienced before. Imagine how joyful their arrival would be! The island was fertile when farmed; and everything was set up to ensure they would have a pleasant time until they were granted their highest honors.”

“At the moment of embarkation, the Great King sent his own son, who spoke thus to them in His name:—

“At the time of departure, the Great King sent his own son, who spoke to them in His name:”

“‘My dear children, I have called you from inaction and insensibility to render you happy by feeling, by action, by life. Never forget I am your king, and obey my commands, by cultivating the country I confide to you. Every one will receive his portion of land, and wise and learned men are appointed to explain my will to you. I wish you all to acquire the knowledge of my laws, and that every father should keep a copy, to read daily to his children, that they may never be forgotten. And on the first day of the week you must all assemble, as brothers, in one place, to hear these laws read and explained. Thus it will be easy for every one to learn the best method of improving his land, what to plant, and how to cleanse it from the tares that might choke the good seed. All may ask what they desire, and every reasonable demand will be granted, if it be conformable to the great end.

“‘My dear children, I have called you from inaction and ignorance to make you happy through feeling, action, and life. Never forget that I am your king, and follow my commands by taking care of the land I’ve entrusted to you. Each person will get their share of land, and wise and knowledgeable people will be appointed to explain my will to you. I want all of you to learn my laws, and every father should keep a copy to read every day to his children, so they are never forgotten. And on the first day of the week, you must all gather as brothers in one place, to hear these laws read and explained. This way, everyone can easily learn the best ways to improve their land, what to plant, and how to clear it of the weeds that might choke the good seeds. Anyone can ask for what they need, and every reasonable request will be granted, as long as it aligns with the greater purpose.

“‘If you feel grateful for these benefits, and testify it by increased activity, and by occupying yourself on this day in expressing your gratitude to me, I will take care this day of rest shall be a benefit, and not a loss. I wish that all your useful animals, and even the wild beasts of the plains, should on this day repose in peace.

“‘If you appreciate these benefits, and show it through increased activity, and by spending this day expressing your gratitude to me, I will ensure that this day of rest will be a benefit, not a loss. I want all your useful animals, and even the wild beasts of the plains, to rest in peace on this day.

“‘He who obeys my commands in Earthly Abode, shall receive a rich reward in the Heavenly City; but the idle, the negligent, and the evil-disposed, shall be condemned to perpetual slavery, or to labour in mines, in the bowels of the earth.

“‘Those who follow my commands in Earthly Abode will be rewarded generously in the Heavenly City; but the lazy, the careless, and the wicked will be condemned to eternal slavery or forced to work in mines, deep within the earth.

“‘From time to time, I shall send ships, to bring away individuals, to be rewarded or punished, as they have fulfilled my commands. None can deceive me; a magic mirror will show me the actions and thoughts of all,’

“‘Every now and then, I’ll send ships to take people away, either to be rewarded or punished, depending on how well they’ve carried out my orders. No one can trick me; a magic mirror will reveal the actions and thoughts of everyone,’”

“The colonists were satisfied, and eager to begin their labour. The portions of land and instruments of labour were distributed to them, with seeds, and useful plants, and fruit-trees. They were then left to turn these good gifts to profit.

“The colonists were happy and excited to start their work. They were given pieces of land and tools to use, along with seeds, useful plants, and fruit trees. They were then left to make the most of these valuable gifts.”

“But what followed? Every one did as he wished. Some planted their ground with groves and gardens, pretty and useless. Others planted wild fruit, instead of the good fruit the Great King had commanded. A third had sowed good seed; but, not knowing the tares from the wheat, he had torn up all before they reached maturity. But the most part left their land uncultivated; they had lost their seeds, or spoiled their implements. Many would not understand the orders of the great king; and others tried, by subtlety, to evade them.

“But what happened next? Everyone did as they pleased. Some filled their land with groves and gardens, nice to look at but useless. Others planted wild fruit instead of the good fruit the Great King had ordered. One person planted good seeds, but not knowing the difference between the tares and the wheat, he pulled up everything before it could grow. Most, however, left their land uncultivated; they had lost their seeds or damaged their tools. Many didn’t understand the Great King’s orders, and others tried to get around them with clever tricks.”

“A few laboured with courage, as they had been taught, rejoicing in the hope of the promise given them. Their greatest danger was in the disbelief of their teachers. Though every one had a copy of the law, few read it; all were ready, by some excuse, to avoid this duty. Some asserted they knew it, yet never thought on it: some called these the laws of past times; not of the present. Other said the Great King did not regard the actions of his subjects, that he had neither mines nor dungeons, and that all would certainly be taken to the Heavenly City. They began to neglect the duties of the day dedicated to the Great King. Few assembled; and of these, the most part were inattentive, and did not profit by the instruction given them.

“A few worked hard with courage, as they had been taught, finding joy in the hope of the promise given to them. Their biggest threat was their teachers' disbelief. Although everyone had a copy of the law, few actually read it; most were quick to make excuses to avoid this responsibility. Some claimed they knew it but never thought about it; others referred to these as laws of the past, not relevant to the present. Others still said the Great King didn’t care about his subjects’ actions, that he had neither mines nor dungeons, and that everyone would certainly be taken to the Heavenly City. They started to neglect the duties of the day set aside for the Great King. Few gathered together, and of those, most were inattentive and did not benefit from the teaching provided to them.”

“But the Great King was faithful to his word. From time to time, frigates arrived, bearing the name of some disease. These were followed by a large vessel called The Grave, bearing the terrible flag of the Admiral Death; this flag was of two colours, green and black; and appeared to the colonists, according to their state, the smiling colour of Hope, or the gloomy hue of Despa’r.

“But the Great King kept his promise. From time to time, frigates came in with the name of some disease. These were followed by a big ship called The Grave, flying the fearsome flag of Admiral Death; this flag was in two colors, green and black; and to the colonists, depending on their mood, it looked either like the cheerful color of Hope, or the dark shade of Despa’r.

“This fleet always arrived unexpectedly, and was usually unwelcome. The officers were sent out, by the admiral, to seize those he pointed out: many who were unwilling were compelled to go; and others whose land was prepared, and even the harvest ripening, were summoned; but these went joyfully, sure that they went to happiness. The fleet being ready, sailed for the Heavenly City. Then the Great King, in his justice, awarded the punishments and recompenses. Excuses were now too late; the negligent and disobedient were sent to labour in the dark mines; while the faithful and obedient, arrayed in bright robes, were received into their glorious abodes of happiness.

“This fleet always showed up out of the blue and was often not welcomed. The admiral would send out officers to capture those he designated: many who didn't want to go were forced to comply; others, whose land was ready and whose harvests were ripening, were called upon; but they went happily, believing they were headed for a better life. Once the fleet was prepared, it set sail for the Heavenly City. Then the Great King, in his fairness, handed out punishments and rewards. It was too late for excuses now; the careless and disobedient were sent to work in dark mines, while the loyal and obedient, dressed in bright robes, were welcomed into their magnificent homes of joy.

“I have finished my parable, my dear children; reflect on it, and profit by it. Fritz, what do you think of it?”

“I’ve completed my story, my dear kids; think about it and learn from it. Fritz, what do you think?”

“I am considering the goodness of the Great King, and the ingratitude of his people,” answered he.

“I am thinking about the kindness of the Great King and the ingratitude of his people,” he replied.

“And how very foolish they were,” said Ernest, “with a little prudence, they might have kept their land in good condition, and secured a pleasant life afterwards.”

“And how foolish they were,” said Ernest, “with a bit of caution, they could have maintained their land well and enjoyed a nice life afterward.”

“Away with them to the mines!” cried Jack, “they richly deserved such a doom.”

“Away with them to the mines!” shouted Jack, “they totally deserve that fate.”

“How much I should like,” said Francis, “to see those soldiers in their shining armour!”

“How much I would love,” said Francis, “to see those soldiers in their shining armor!”

“I hope you will see them some day, my dear boy, if you continue to be good and obedient.” I then explained my parable fully, and applied the moral to each of my sons directly.

“I hope you get to meet them someday, my dear boy, as long as you keep being good and obedient.” I then fully explained my parable and applied the moral to each of my sons directly.

“You, Fritz, should take warning from the people who planted wild fruit, and wished to make them pass for good fruit. Such are those who are proud of natural virtues, easy to exercise,—such as bodily strength, or physical courage; and place these above the qualities which are only attained by labour and patience.

“You, Fritz, should learn from the people who planted wild fruit and tried to pretend it was good fruit. These are the ones who take pride in natural traits that are easy to display—like physical strength or bravery—and place those above qualities that can only be gained through hard work and perseverance."

“You, Ernest, must remember the subjects who laid out their land in flowery gardens; like those who seek the pleasures of life, rather than the duties. And you, my thoughtless Jack, and little Francis, think of the fate of those who left their land untilled, or heedlessly sowed tares for wheat. These are God’s people who neither study nor reflect; who cast to the winds all instruction, and leave room in their minds for evil. Then let us all be, like the good labourers of the parable, constantly cultivating our ground, that, when Death comes for us, we may willingly follow him to the feet of the Great King, to hear these blessed words: ‘Good and faithful servants! enter into the joy of your Lord!’”

“You, Ernest, need to remember those who designed their land with beautiful gardens; like those who chase the pleasures of life instead of fulfilling their responsibilities. And you, my careless Jack, and little Francis, think about the fate of those who left their land uncultivated, or who thoughtlessly planted weeds instead of wheat. These are God’s people who neither study nor reflect; who disregard all guidance and make space in their minds for negativity. So let us all be like the good workers in the parable, continuously tending to our land, so that when Death comes for us, we can willingly follow him to the feet of the Great King, to hear these blessed words: ‘Good and faithful servants! enter into the joy of your Lord!’”

This made a great impression on my children. We concluded by singing a hymn. Then my good wife produced from her unfailing bag, a copy of the Holy Scripture, from which I selected such passages as applied to our situation; and explained them to my best ability. My boys remained for some time thoughtful and serious, and though they followed their innocent recreations during the day, they did not lose sight of the useful lesson of the morning, but, by a more gentle and amiable manner, showed that my words had taken effect.

This had a strong impact on my children. We ended by singing a hymn. Then my wonderful wife pulled out her ever-reliable bag and took out a copy of the Bible, from which I chose passages that related to our situation and explained them as best as I could. My boys stayed thoughtful and serious for a while, and even though they enjoyed their innocent play throughout the day, they remained aware of the valuable lesson from the morning. They showed that my words had made an impression through their kinder and more respectful behavior.

The next morning, Ernest had used my bow, which I had given him, very skilfully; bringing down some dozens of small birds, a sort of ortolan, from the branches of our tree, where they assembled to feed on the figs. This induced them all to wish for such a weapon. I was glad to comply with their wishes, as I wished them to become skilful in the use of these arms of our forefathers, which might be of great value to us, when our ammunition failed. I made two bows; and two quivers, to contain their arrows, of a flexible piece of bark, and, attaching a strap to them, I soon armed my little archers.

The next morning, Ernest had skillfully used the bow I had given him, bringing down dozens of small birds, a type of ortolan, from the branches of our tree, where they gathered to eat the figs. This made everyone want a weapon like that. I was happy to meet their wishes because I wanted them to become skilled in using these weapons of our ancestors, which could be really useful when our ammunition ran out. I made two bows and two quivers to hold their arrows out of a flexible piece of bark, and by adding a strap to them, I quickly armed my little archers.

Fritz was engaged in preparing the skin of the margay, with more care than Jack had shown with that of the jackal. I showed him how to clean it, by rubbing it with sand in the river, till no vestige of fat or flesh was left; and then applying butter, to render it flexible.

Fritz was working on preparing the margay's skin with much more care than Jack had put into the jackal's. I showed him how to clean it by rubbing it with sand in the river until there was no trace of fat or flesh left; then we applied butter to make it flexible.

These employments filled up the morning till dinner-time came. We had Ernest’s ortolans, and some fried ham and eggs, which made us a sumptuous repast. I gave my boys leave to kill as many ortolans as they chose, for I knew that, half-roasted, and put into casks, covered with butter, they would keep for a length of time, and prove an invaluable resource in time of need. As I continued my work, making arrows, and a bow for Francis, I intimated to my wife that the abundant supply of figs would save our grain, as the poultry and pigeons would feed on them, as well as the ortolans. This was a great satisfaction to her. And thus another day passed, and we mounted to our dormitory, to taste the sweet slumber that follows a day of toil.

These activities took up the morning until it was time for lunch. We had Ernest’s ortolans along with some fried ham and eggs, which made for a delicious meal. I allowed my boys to catch as many ortolans as they wanted since I knew that, half-cooked and stored in barrels with butter, they would last a long time and be a valuable resource when needed. While I worked on making arrows and a bow for Francis, I mentioned to my wife that the plentiful figs would save our grain because the poultry and pigeons would eat them, along with the ortolans. This brought her great satisfaction. And so, another day went by, and we climbed up to our sleeping quarters to enjoy the sweet sleep that follows a day of hard work.


CHAPTER XIII.

The next morning, all were engaged in archery: I completed the bow for Francis, and at his particular request made him a quiver too. The delicate bark of a tree, united by glue, obtained from our portable soup, formed an admirable quiver; this I suspended by a string round the neck of my boy, furnished with arrows; then taking his bow in his hand, he was as proud as a knight armed at all points.

The next morning, everyone was busy with archery: I finished the bow for Francis and, at his specific request, made him a quiver too. The fine bark of a tree, glued together with our portable soup, made an excellent quiver; I hung it by a string around my boy’s neck, equipped with arrows. Then, with his bow in hand, he looked as proud as a knight fully armed.

After dinner, I proposed that we should give names to all the parts of our island known to us, in order that, by a pleasing delusion, we might fancy ourselves in an inhabited country. My proposal was well received, and then began the discussion of names. Jack wished for something high-sounding and difficult, such as Monomotapa or Zanguebar; very difficult words, to puzzle any one that visited our island. But I objected to this, as we were the most likely to have to use the names ourselves, and we should suffer from it. I rather suggested that we should give, in our own language, such simple names as should point out some circumstance connected with the spot. I proposed we should begin with the bay where we landed, and called on Fritz for his name.

After dinner, I suggested that we name all the areas of our island that we knew so that, through a fun illusion, we could imagine we were in a populated country. My idea was well received, and the discussion about names started. Jack wanted something impressive and complicated, like Monomotapa or Zanguebar; very tricky words to stump anyone who visited our island. But I disagreed, since we would be the ones using the names most, and it would just make things harder for us. Instead, I proposed that we use simple names in our own language that reflected something about each place. I suggested we start with the bay where we landed and asked Fritz for his name.

The Bay of Oysters” said he,—“we found so many there.”

The Bay of Oysters” he said, “we found so many there.”

“Oh, no!” said Jack, “let it be Lobster Bay; for there I was caught by the leg.”

“Oh, no!” Jack said, “let it be Lobster Bay; because that’s where I got caught by the leg.”


MAP OF THE HAPPY ISLAND.


MAP OF THE HAPPY ISLAND.

“Then we ought to call it the Bay of Tears,” said Ernest, “to commemorate those you shed on the occasion.”

“Then we should call it the Bay of Tears,” said Ernest, “to remember the ones you cried on that occasion.”

“My advice,” said my wife, “is, that in gratitude to God we should name it Safety Bay.”

“My advice,” said my wife, “is that, in gratitude to God, we should name it Safety Bay.”

We were all pleased with this name, and proceeded to give the name of Tent House to our first abode; Shark Island, to the little island in the bay, where we had found that animal; and, at Jack’s desire, the marshy spot where we had cut our arrows was named Flamingo Marsh. There the height from which we had vainly sought traces of our shipmates, received the name of Cape Disappointment. The river was to be Jackal River, and the bridge, Family Bridge. The most difficult point was, to name our present abode. At last we agreed on the name of Falcon’s Nest (in German Falken-hoist). This was received with acclamations, and I poured out for my young nestlings each a glass of sweet wine, to drink Prosperity to Falcon’s Nest. We thus laid the foundation of the geography of our new country, promising to forward it to Europe by the first post.

We were all happy with this name and decided to call our first home Tent House; the little island in the bay, where we had found that animal, was named Shark Island; and, at Jack's suggestion, the marshy area where we had made our arrows was called Flamingo Marsh. The spot from which we had unsuccessfully searched for our shipmates was named Cape Disappointment. The river was to be Jackal River, and the bridge, Family Bridge. The hardest part was coming up with a name for our current home. Finally, we settled on Falcon’s Nest (in German, Falken-hoist). This was met with cheers, and I poured a glass of sweet wine for each of my young companions to toast to the prosperity of Falcon’s Nest. In this way, we established the geography of our new country, promising to send it back to Europe with the next post.

After dinner, my sons returned to their occupation as tanners, Fritz to complete his belt, and Jack to make a sort of cuirass, of the formidable skin of the porcupine, to protect the dogs. He finished by making a sort of helmet from the head of the animal, as strange as the cuirasses.

After dinner, my sons went back to their work as tanners. Fritz continued working on his belt, while Jack started making a kind of armor from the tough skin of the porcupine to protect the dogs. He ended up crafting a helmet from the animal's head, which looked just as unusual as the armor.

The heat of the day being over, we prepared to set out to walk to Tent House, to renew our stock of provisions, and endeavour to bring the geese and ducks to our new residence; but, instead of going by the coast, we proposed to go up the river till we reached the chain of rocks, and continue under their shade till we got to the cascade, where we could cross, and return by Family Bridge.

The heat of the day was over, so we got ready to walk to Tent House to restock our supplies and try to bring the geese and ducks to our new home. Instead of taking the coastal route, we decided to head up the river until we reached the chain of rocks and continue under their shade until we got to the waterfall, where we could cross and return via Family Bridge.

This was approved, and we set out. Fritz, decorated with his beautiful belt of skin, Jack in his porcupine helmet. Each had a gun and game-bag; except Francis, who, with his pretty fair face, his golden hair, and his bow and quiver, was a perfect Cupid. My wife was loaded with a large butter-pot for a fresh supply. Turk walked before us with his coat of mail, and Flora followed, peeping at a respectful distance from him, for fear of the darts. Knips, as my boys called the monkey, finding this new saddle very inconvenient, jumped off, with many contortions, but soon fixed on Flora, who, not being able to shake him off, was compelled to become his palfrey.

This was approved, and we set out. Fritz, wearing his beautiful belt made of skin, and Jack in his porcupine helmet. Each had a gun and a game bag, except for Francis, who, with his pretty face, golden hair, and his bow and quiver, looked just like Cupid. My wife carried a large butter pot for a fresh supply. Turk walked in front of us in his coat of mail, while Flora followed, peeking at a safe distance from him, worried about the darts. Knips, as my boys called the monkey, found this new saddle very uncomfortable, jumped off with a lot of movements, but quickly settled on Flora, who, unable to shake him off, had no choice but to become his mount.

The road by the river was smooth and pleasant. When we reached the end of the wood, the country seemed more open; and now the boys, who had been rambling about, came running up, out of breath; Ernest was holding a plant with leaves and flowers, and green apples hanging on it.

The path along the river was smooth and nice. When we got to the edge of the woods, the area felt more open; and now the boys, who had been wandering around, came running up, out of breath. Ernest was holding a plant with leaves and flowers, and green apples hanging from it.

“Potatoes!” said he; “I am certain they are potatoes!”

“Potatoes!” he said. “I’m sure they’re potatoes!”

“God be praised,” said I; “this precious plant will secure provision for our colony.”

"Thank goodness," I said; "this valuable plant will ensure our colony has enough supplies."

“Well,” said Jack, “if his superior knowledge discovered them, I will be the first to dig them up;” and he set to work so ardently, that we had soon a bag of fine ripe potatoes, which we carried on to Tent House.

“Well,” Jack said, “if his greater knowledge found them, I’ll be the first to dig them up;” and he got to work so enthusiastically that we soon had a bag of nice, ripe potatoes, which we took back to Tent House.


CHAPTER XIV.

We had been much delighted with the new and lovely scenery of our road: the prickly cactus, and aloe, with its white flowers; the Indian fig; the white and yellow jasmine; the fragrant vanilla, throwing round its graceful festoons. Above all, the regal pineapple grew in profusion, and we feasted on it, for the first time, with avidity.

We were thrilled by the beautiful scenery along our route: the spiky cactus, and aloe with its white flowers; the Indian fig; the white and yellow jasmine; the fragrant vanilla, draping its elegant garlands everywhere. Most impressively, the majestic pineapple grew abundantly, and we eagerly enjoyed it for the first time.

Among the prickly stalks of the cactus and aloes, I perceived a plant with large pointed leaves, which I knew to be the karata. I pointed out to the boys its beautiful red flowers; the leaves are an excellent application to wounds, and thread is made from the filaments, and the pith of the stem is used by the savage tribes for tinder.

Among the spiky stalks of the cactus and aloes, I spotted a plant with large pointed leaves, which I recognized as the karata. I showed the boys its beautiful red flowers; the leaves are great for applying to wounds, and thread is made from the fibers, while the pith of the stem is used by indigenous tribes for tinder.

When I showed the boys, by experiment, the use of the pith, they thought the tinder-tree would be almost as useful as the potatoes.

When I demonstrated to the boys, through experimentation, how to use the pith, they believed the tinder-tree would be nearly as helpful as the potatoes.

“At all events,” I said, “it will be more useful than the pine-apples; your mother will be thankful for thread, when her enchanted bag is exhausted.”

“At any rate,” I said, “it will be more useful than the pineapples; your mom will be grateful for thread when her magical bag is empty.”

“How happy it is for us,” said she, “that you have devoted yourself to reading and study. In our ignorance we might have passed this treasure, without suspecting its value.”

“How happy we are,” she said, “that you have dedicated yourself to reading and study. In our ignorance, we might have overlooked this treasure without realizing its worth.”

Fritz inquired of what use in the world all the rest of these prickly plants could be, which wounded every one that came near.

Fritz wondered what these prickly plants were good for in the world, as they hurt everyone who got too close.

“All these have their use, Fritz,” said I; “some contain juices and gums, which are daily made use of in medicine; others are useful in the arts, or in manufactures. The Indian fig, for instance, is a most interesting tree. It grows in the most arid soil. The fruit is said to be sweet and wholesome.”

“All of these have their purpose, Fritz,” I said; “some have juices and gums that are commonly used in medicine; others are important in the arts or in manufacturing. The Indian fig, for example, is a really fascinating tree. It thrives in the driest soil. The fruit is said to be sweet and nutritious.”

In a moment, my little active Jack was climbing the rocks to gather some of these figs; but he had not remarked that they were covered with thousands of slender thorns, finer than the finest needles, which terribly wounded his fingers. He returned, weeping bitterly and dancing with pain. Having rallied him a little for his greediness, I extracted the thorns, and then showed him how to open the fruit, by first cutting off the pointed end, as it lay on the ground; into this I fixed a piece of stick, and then pared it with my knife. The novelty of the expedient recommended it, and they were soon all engaged eating the fruit, which they declared was very good.

In no time, my little energetic Jack was climbing the rocks to gather some of these figs; but he didn’t notice that they were covered with thousands of thin thorns, finer than the finest needles, which badly hurt his fingers. He came back, crying hard and dancing with pain. After teasing him a bit for being greedy, I took out the thorns, and then showed him how to open the fruit by first cutting off the pointed end while it lay on the ground; into this, I stuck a piece of stick, and then sliced it with my knife. The cleverness of the method made it appealing, and soon everyone was happily eating the fruit, which they said was really good.

In the mean time, I saw Ernest examining one of the figs very attentively. “Oh! papa!” said he, “what a singular sight; the fig is covered with a small red insect. I cannot shake them off. Can they be the Cochineal?” I recognized at once the precious insect, of which I explained to my sons the nature and use. “It is with this insect,” said I, “that the beautiful and rich scarlet dye is made. It is found in America, and the Europeans give its weight in gold for it.”

In the meantime, I saw Ernest carefully looking at one of the figs. “Oh! Dad!” he exclaimed, “what a weird sight; the fig is covered in a tiny red insect. I can’t shake them off. Could they be the Cochineal?” I instantly recognized the valuable insect and explained its nature and use to my sons. “This is the insect,” I said, “that is used to make the beautiful and rich scarlet dye. It’s found in America, and Europeans pay its weight in gold for it.”

Thus discoursing on the wonders of nature, and the necessity of increasing our knowledge by observation and study, we arrived at Tent House, and found it in the same state as we left it.

Thus talking about the wonders of nature and the need to expand our knowledge through observation and study, we arrived at Tent House and found it in the same condition as we left it.

We all began to collect necessaries. Fritz loaded himself with powder and shot, I opened the butter-cask, and my wife and little Francis filled the pot. Ernest and Jack went to try and secure the geese and ducks; but they had become so wild that it would have been impossible, if Ernest had not thought of an expedient. He tied pieces of cheese, for bait, to threads, which he floated on the water. The voracious creatures immediately swallowed the cheese and were drawn out by the thread. They were then securely tied, and fastened to the game-bags, to be carried home on our backs. As the bait could not be recovered, the boys contented themselves with cutting off the string close to the beak, leaving them to digest the rest.

We all started gathering supplies. Fritz loaded himself up with powder and shot, I opened the butter barrel, and my wife and little Francis filled the pot. Ernest and Jack went to try and catch the geese and ducks; but they had gotten so wild that it seemed impossible, until Ernest came up with a clever idea. He tied pieces of cheese to threads, which he floated on the water. The hungry birds immediately gobbled up the cheese and got pulled in by the thread. They were then securely tied and attached to the game bags to carry home on our backs. Since we couldn’t retrieve the bait, the boys settled for cutting the string close to the beak, leaving the birds to digest the rest.

Our bags were already loaded with potatoes, but we filled up the spaces between them with salt; and, having relieved Turk of his armour, we placed the heaviest on his back. I took the butter-pot; and, after replacing everything, and closing our tent, we resumed our march, with our ludicrous incumbrances. The geese and ducks were very noisy in their adieu to their old marsh; the dogs barked; and we all laughed so excessively, that we forgot our burdens till we sat down again under our tree. My wife soon had her pot of potatoes on the fire. She then milked the cow and goat, while I set the fowls at liberty on the banks of the river. We then sat down to a smoking dish of potatoes, a jug of milk, and butter and cheese. After supper we had prayers, thanking God especially for his new benefits; and we then sought our repose among the leaves.

Our bags were already packed with potatoes, but we filled the spaces between them with salt. After taking off Turk's armor, we put the heavier parts on his back. I grabbed the butter pot, and after making sure everything was in place and closing up our tent, we continued our march, laughing at our ridiculous loads. The geese and ducks were very noisy saying goodbye to their old marsh; the dogs barked; and we all laughed so much that we forgot about our burdens until we sat down again under our tree. My wife quickly had her pot of potatoes on the fire. Then she milked the cow and goat while I let the chickens roam free on the banks of the river. We then sat down to a hot meal of potatoes, a jug of milk, and butter and cheese. After dinner, we had prayers, expressing our gratitude to God, especially for His new blessings, and then we settled down for the night among the leaves.


CHAPTER XV.

I had observed on the shore, the preceding day, a quantity of wood, which I thought would suit to make a sledge, to convey our casks and heavy stores from Tent House to Falcon’s Nest. At dawn of day I woke Ernest, whose inclination to indolence I wished to overcome, and leaving the rest asleep, we descended, and harnessing the ass to a strong branch of a tree that was lying near, we proceeded to the shore. I had no difficulty in selecting proper pieces of wood; we sawed them the right length, tied them together, and laid them across the bough, which the patient animal drew very contentedly. We added to the load a small chest we discovered half buried in the sand, and we returned homewards, Ernest leading the ass, and I assisted by raising the load with a lever when we met with any obstruction. My wife had been rather alarmed; but seeing the result of our expedition, and hearing of the prospect of a sledge, she was satisfied. I opened the chest, which contained only some sailors’ dresses and some linen, both wetted with sea-water; but likely to be very useful as our own clothes decayed. I found Fritz and Jack had been shooting ortolans; they had killed about fifty, but had consumed so much powder and shot, that I checked a prodigality so imprudent in our situation. I taught them to make snares for the birds of the threads we drew from the karata-leaves we had brought home. My wife and her two younger sons busied themselves with these, while I, with my two elder boys, began to construct the sledge. As we were working, we heard a great noise among the fowls, and Ernest, looking about, discovered the monkey seizing and hiding the eggs from the nests; he had collected a good store in a hole among the roots, which Ernest carried to his mother; and Knips was punished by being tied up, every morning, till the eggs were collected.

I had noticed on the shore the day before a bunch of wood that I thought would be perfect for making a sled to transport our barrels and heavy supplies from Tent House to Falcon’s Nest. At dawn, I woke up Ernest, hoping to motivate him out of his laziness, and while the others were still asleep, we headed down to the shore. We tied our donkey to a sturdy branch that was lying nearby and went to gather wood. I easily picked out the right pieces, we sawed them to the right length, tied them together, and laid them across the branch, which the willing donkey pulled without any fuss. We also found a small chest half-buried in the sand and added it to our load as we made our way back home, with Ernest leading the donkey and me helping to lift the load with a lever whenever we encountered obstacles. My wife had been a little worried, but when she saw what we had accomplished and heard about the sled, she felt reassured. I opened the chest, which contained only some sailors’ clothing and linens, both soaked with seawater but likely to be very useful as our own clothes wore out. I found that Fritz and Jack had been busy shooting ortolans; they had caught about fifty but had used up so much powder and shot that I had to put a stop to their wastefulness, given our circumstances. I showed them how to make bird snares using threads from the karata leaves we had brought back. My wife and our two younger boys focused on that while I worked with my two older sons to build the sled. While we were busy, we heard a loud commotion among the birds, and Ernest discovered that the monkey was snatching and hiding eggs from the nests; he had gathered quite a stash in a hole among the roots, which he took to his mother. We decided to punish Knips by tying him up every morning until we had collected all the eggs.

Our work was interrupted by dinner, composed of ortolans, milk, and cheese. After dinner, Jack had climbed to the higher branches of the trees to place his snares, and found the pigeons were making nests. I then told him to look often to the snares, for fear our own poor birds should be taken; and, above all, never in future to fire into the tree.

Our work was interrupted by dinner, which included ortolans, milk, and cheese. After dinner, Jack climbed to the higher branches of the trees to set his traps and noticed that the pigeons were building nests. I then told him to check the traps regularly to make sure our own poor birds wouldn't get caught; and, most importantly, to never shoot into the tree again.

“Papa,” said little Francis, “can we not sow some gunpowder, and then we shall have plenty?” This proposal was received with shouts of laughter, which greatly discomposed the little innocent fellow. Professor Ernest immediately seized the opportunity to give a lecture on the composition of gunpowder.

“Dad,” said little Francis, “can we plant some gunpowder, and then we’ll have plenty?” This suggestion was met with bursts of laughter, which really upset the little innocent boy. Professor Ernest jumped at the chance to give a lecture on what gunpowder is made of.

At the end of the day my sledge was finished. Two long curved planks of wood, crossed by three pieces, at a distance from each other, formed the simple conveyance. The fore and hind parts were in the form of horns, to keep the load from falling off. Two ropes were fastened to the front, and my sledge was complete. My wife was delighted with it, and hoped I would now set out immediately to Tent House for the butter-cask. I made no objection to this; and Ernest and I prepared to go, and leave Fritz in charge of the family.

At the end of the day, my sled was done. Two long, curved pieces of wood, crossed by three shorter ones spaced apart, made up the simple sled. The front and back had horn shapes to keep the load from falling off. I attached two ropes to the front, and my sled was complete. My wife was thrilled with it and hoped I would leave right away for Tent House to get the butter cask. I didn’t argue with that, so Ernest and I got ready to go and left Fritz in charge of the family.


CHAPTER XVI.

When we were ready to set out, Fritz presented each of us with a little case he had made from the skin of the margay. They were ingeniously contrived to contain knife, fork, and spoon, and a small hatchet. We then harnessed the ass and the cow to the sledge, took a flexible bamboo cane for a whip, and, followed by Flora, we departed, leaving Turk to guard the tree.

When we were ready to leave, Fritz gave each of us a little case he had made from margay skin. They were cleverly designed to hold a knife, fork, spoon, and a small hatchet. We then hitched the donkey and the cow to the sled, grabbed a flexible bamboo cane for a whip, and, with Flora following us, we set off, leaving Turk to watch over the tree.

We went by the shore, as the better road for the sledge, and crossing Family Bridge, were soon at Tent House. After unharnessing the animals, we began to load. We took the cask of butter, the cheese, and the biscuit; all the rest of our utensils, powder, shot, and Turk’s armour, which we had left there. These labours had so occupied us, that we had not observed that our animals, attracted by the pasturage, had crossed the bridge, and wandered out of sight. I sent Ernest to seek them, and in the mean time went to the bay, where I discovered some convenient little hollows in the rock, that seemed cut out for baths. I called Ernest to come, and till he arrived, employed myself in cutting some rushes, which I thought might be useful. When my son came, I found he had ingeniously removed the first planks from the bridge, to prevent the animals straying over again. We then had a very pleasant bath, and Ernest being out first, I sent him to the rock, where the salt was accumulated, to fill a small bag, to be transferred to the large bags on the ass. He had not been absent long, when I heard him cry out, “Papa! papa! a huge fish! I cannot hold it; it will break my line.” I ran to his assistance, and found him lying on the ground on his face, tugging at his line, to which an enormous salmon was attached, that had nearly pulled him into the water. I let it have a little more line, then drew it gently into a shallow, and secured it. It appeared about fifteen pounds weight; and we pleased ourselves with the idea of presenting this to our good cook. Ernest said, he remembered having remarked how this place swarmed with fish, and he took care to bring his rod with him; he had taken about a dozen small fishes, which he had in his handkerchief, before he was overpowered by the salmon. I cut the fishes open, and rubbed the inside with salt, to preserve them; then placing them in a small box on the sledge, and adding our bags of salt, we harnessed our animals, and set off homewards.

We went along the shore, which was the better path for the sled, and after crossing Family Bridge, we soon reached Tent House. Once we unharnessed the animals, we started loading. We took the barrel of butter, the cheese, and the biscuits, along with all of our tools, powder, shot, and Turk’s armor that we had left there. We were so busy with these tasks that we didn’t notice our animals were drawn by the grass, had crossed the bridge, and wandered out of sight. I sent Ernest to find them, and in the meantime, I went to the bay, where I found some nice little hollows in the rock that looked perfect for baths. I called for Ernest to come, and while waiting for him, I kept myself busy cutting some rushes that I thought might be useful. When my son arrived, I saw that he had cleverly taken off the first planks from the bridge to stop the animals from wandering again. We then enjoyed a nice bath, and since Ernest was out first, I sent him to the rock where the salt was piling up, to fill a small bag to add to the larger bags on the donkey. He hadn’t been gone long when I heard him shout, “Papa! Papa! A huge fish! I can’t hold it; it’s going to break my line.” I ran to help him and found him lying face down on the ground, struggling with his line that had a massive salmon on it, which nearly pulled him into the water. I let it have a little more line, then gently pulled it into shallow water and secured it. It weighed about fifteen pounds, and we were excited at the thought of giving it to our good cook. Ernest mentioned that he had noticed how full of fish this spot was, so he made sure to bring his rod with him; he had caught about a dozen small fish, which he held in his handkerchief, before being overpowered by the salmon. I cut open the fish and rubbed salt inside to preserve them; then I placed them in a small box on the sled, added our bags of salt, and we harnessed our animals and headed home.

When we were about half-way, Flora left us, and, by her barking, raised a singular animal, which seemed to leap instead of run. The irregular bounds of the animal disconcerted my aim, and, though very near, I missed it. Ernest was more fortunate; he fired at it, and killed it. It was an animal about the size of a sheep, with the tail of a tiger; its head and skin were like those of a mouse, ears longer than the hare; there was a curious pouch on the belly; the fore legs were short, as if imperfectly developed, and armed with strong claws, the hind legs long, like a pair of stilts. After Ernest’s pride of victory was a little subdued, he fell back on his science, and began to examine his spoil.

When we were about halfway there, Flora left us and, with her barking, startled a strange animal that seemed to leap instead of run. Its erratic jumps threw off my aim, and even though I was very close, I missed it. Ernest had better luck; he shot at it and killed it. It was about the size of a sheep, with a tail like a tiger's; its head and skin were similar to a mouse's, and its ears were longer than a hare's. There was a strange pouch on its belly; its front legs were short, as if they hadn’t fully developed, and they had strong claws, while its hind legs were long, like stilts. After Ernest’s initial excitement wore off, he turned to his scientific side and started to examine his catch.

“By its teeth,” said he, “it should belong to the family of rodentes, or gnawers; by its legs, to the jumpers; and by its pouch, to the opossum tribe.”

“By its teeth,” he said, “it must belong to the family of rodents, or gnawers; by its legs, to the jumpers; and by its pouch, to the opossum family.”

This gave me the right clue. “Then,” said I, “this must be the animal Cook first discovered in New Holland, and it is called the kangaroo.”

This gave me the right clue. “Then,” I said, “this must be the animal Cook first discovered in New Holland, and it's called the kangaroo.”

We now tied the legs of the animal together, and, putting a stick through, carried it to the sledge very carefully, for Ernest was anxious to preserve the beautiful skin. Our animals were heavily laden; but, giving them a little rest and some fresh grass, we once more started, and in a short time reached Falcon’s Nest.

We tied the animal's legs together and carefully carried it to the sled by putting a stick through it, since Ernest wanted to keep the beautiful skin intact. Our animals were heavily loaded, but after giving them a short break and some fresh grass, we set off again, and soon we arrived at Falcon’s Nest.

My wife had been employed during our absence in washing the clothes of the three boys, clothing them in the mean time from the sailor’s chest we had found a few days before. Their appearance was excessively ridiculous, as the garments neither suited their age nor size, and caused great mirth to us all; but my wife had preferred this disguise to the alternative of their going naked.

My wife had been busy while we were away, washing the clothes of the three boys and dressing them with items from the sailor's chest we had found a few days earlier. They looked incredibly silly because the clothes didn’t fit their age or size, which made all of us laugh a lot. Still, my wife thought this disguise was better than letting them go without clothes.

We now began to display our riches, and relate our adventures. The butter and the rest of the provisions were very welcome, the salmon still more so, but the sight of the kangaroo produced screams of admiration. Fritz displayed a little jealousy, but soon surmounted it by an exertion of his nobler feelings; and only the keen eye of a father could have discovered it. He congratulated Ernest warmly, but could not help begging to accompany me next time.

We started showing off our wealth and sharing our adventures. The butter and other supplies were greatly appreciated, the salmon even more so, but the sight of the kangaroo brought out screams of admiration. Fritz felt a bit jealous, but he quickly overcame it by tapping into his better feelings; only a father’s keen eye would have noticed. He warmly congratulated Ernest but couldn’t help asking to come with me next time.

“I promise you that,” said I, “as a reward for the conquest you have achieved over your jealousy of your brother. But, remember, I could not have given you a greater proof of my confidence, than in leaving you to protect your mother and brothers. A noble mind finds its purest joy in the accomplishment of its duty, and to that willingly sacrifices its inclination. But,” I added, in a low tone, lest I should distress my wife, “I propose another expedition to the vessel, and you must accompany me.”

“I promise you that,” I said, “as a reward for overcoming your jealousy of your brother. But remember, I couldn’t have shown you more trust than by leaving you to look after your mother and brothers. A noble mind finds its greatest happiness in fulfilling its duty and willingly sacrifices its own desires for that. But,” I added quietly, so as not to upset my wife, “I’m planning another trip to the ship, and you have to come with me.”

We then fed our tired animals, giving them some salt with their grass, a great treat to them. Some salmon was prepared for dinner, and the rest salted. After dinner, I hung up the kangaroo till next day, when we intended to salt and smoke the flesh. Evening arrived, and an excellent supper of fish, ortolans, and potatoes refreshed us; and, after thanks to God, we retired to rest.

We then fed our tired animals, giving them some salt with their grass, a real treat for them. Some salmon was prepared for dinner, and the rest was salted. After dinner, I hung up the kangaroo for the next day when we planned to salt and smoke the meat. Evening came, and a delicious supper of fish, ortolans, and potatoes revived us; after giving thanks to God, we went to bed.


CHAPTER XVII.

I rose early, and descended the ladder, a little uneasy about my kangaroo, and found I was but just in time to save it, for my dogs had so enjoyed their repast on the entrails, which I had given them the night before, that they wished to appropriate the rest. They had succeeded in tearing off the head, which was in their reach, and were devouring it in a sort of growling partnership. As we had no store-room for our provision, I decided to administer a little correction, as a warning to these gluttons. I gave them some smart strokes with a cane, and they fled howling to the stable under the roots. Their cries roused my wife, who came down; and, though she could not but allow the chastisement to be just and prudent, she was so moved by compassion, that she consoled the poor sufferers with some remains of last night’s supper.

I got up early and climbed down the ladder, feeling a bit anxious about my kangaroo, and found I just made it in time to save it. My dogs had enjoyed their meal of entrails, which I had given them the night before, so they wanted to help themselves to the rest. They had managed to rip off the head, which was within their reach, and were gnawing on it together with some low growls. Since we didn't have a storage space for our supplies, I decided to give them a little punishment as a warning to these greedy pups. I hit them a few times with a cane, and they ran off howling to the stable under the roots. Their cries woke up my wife, who came down; and although she couldn’t help but agree that the punishment was fair and sensible, she was so moved by compassion that she comforted the poor dogs with some leftovers from last night’s dinner.

I now carefully stripped the kangaroo of his elegant skin, and washing myself, and changing my dress after this unpleasant operation, I joined my family at breakfast. I then announced my plan of visiting the vessel, and ordered Fritz to make preparations. My wife resigned herself mournfully to the necessity. When we were ready to depart, Ernest and Jack were not to be found; their mother suspected they had gone to get potatoes. This calmed my apprehension; but I charged her to reprimand them for going without leave. We set out towards Tent House, leaving Flora to protect the household, and taking our guns as usual.

I carefully skinned the kangaroo, then cleaned myself up and changed my clothes after that unpleasant task. I joined my family for breakfast and shared my plan to visit the ship, asking Fritz to start getting things ready. My wife sadly accepted the situation. When we were about to leave, we couldn't find Ernest and Jack; their mother thought they might have gone to get potatoes. This eased my worries, but I asked her to scold them for leaving without telling anyone. We headed towards Tent House, leaving Flora to look after the home and taking our guns like we usually did.

We had scarcely left the wood, and were approaching Jackal River, when we heard piercing cries, and suddenly Ernest and Jack leaped from a thicket, delighted, as Jack said, in having succeeded in their plan of accompanying us, and, moreover, in making us believe we were beset with savages. They were, however, disappointed. I gave them a severe reproof for their disobedience, and sent them home with a message to their mother that I thought we might be detained all night, and begged she would not be uneasy.

We had barely left the woods and were getting close to Jackal River when we heard loud cries, and suddenly Ernest and Jack jumped out from a bush, excited that, as Jack put it, they had successfully followed us and had made us think we were being attacked by savages. They were, however, let down. I gave them a stern talking-to for their disobedience and sent them home with a message for their mom, saying that I thought we might be stuck out all night, and asked her not to worry.

They listened to me in great confusion, and were much mortified at their dismissal; but I begged Fritz to give Ernest his silver watch, that they might know how the time passed; and I knew that I could replace it, as there was a case of watches in the ship. This reconciled them a little to their lot, and they left us. We went forward to our boat, embarked, and, aided by the current, soon reached the vessel.

They listened to me in confusion and were quite upset about being dismissed. But I asked Fritz to give Ernest his silver watch so they could keep track of time, and I knew I could replace it since there was a box of watches on the ship. This eased their disappointment a bit, and they left us. We went to our boat, boarded, and, with the help of the current, quickly reached the vessel.

My first care was to construct some more convenient transport-vessel than our boat. Fritz proposed a raft, similar to those used by savage nations, supported on skins filled with air. These we had not; but we found a number of water-hogsheads, which we emptied, and closed again, and threw a dozen of them into the sea, between the ship and our boat. Some long planks were laid on these, and secured with ropes. We added a raised edge of planks to secure our cargo, and thus had a solid raft, capable of conveying any burden. This work occupied us the whole day, scarcely interrupted by eating a little cold meat from our game-bags. Exhausted by fatigue, we were glad to take a good night’s rest in the captain’s cabin on an elastic mattress, of which our hammocks had made us forget the comfort. Early next morning we began to load our raft.

My first priority was to build a more convenient transport vessel than our boat. Fritz suggested a raft, like those used by primitive cultures, supported by air-filled skins. We didn’t have those, but we found a number of empty water barrels, which we sealed up again and tossed a dozen of them into the sea, between the ship and our boat. We laid some long planks on top and secured them with ropes. We added raised edges with more planks to secure our cargo, and this created a sturdy raft that could carry any load. This project took us the whole day, only interrupted by a bit of cold meat from our game bags. Worn out from the effort, we were grateful to get a good night’s sleep in the captain’s cabin on a comfortable mattress, something we’d forgotten about after sleeping in our hammocks. Early the next morning, we started loading our raft.

We began by entirely stripping our own cabin and that of the captain. We carried away even the doors and windows. The chests of the carpenter and the gunner followed. There were cases of rich jewellery, and caskets of money, which at first tempted us, but were speedily relinquished for objects of real utility. I preferred a case of young plants of European fruits, carefully packed in moss for transportation. I saw, with delight, among these precious plants, apple, pear, plum, orange, apricot, peach, almond, and chesnut trees, and some young shoots of vines. How I longed to plant these familiar trees of home in a foreign soil. We secured some bars of iron and pigs of lead, grindstones, cart-wheels ready for mounting, tongs, shovels, plough-shares, packets of copper and iron wire, sacks of maize, peas, oats, and vetches; and even a small hand-mill. The vessel had been, in fact, laden with everything likely to be useful in a new colony. We found a saw-mill in pieces, but marked, so that it could be easily put together. It was difficult to select, but we took as much as was safe on the raft, adding a large fishing-net and the ship’s compass. Fritz begged to take the harpoons, which he hung by the ropes over the bow of our boat; and I indulged his fancy. We were now loaded as far as prudence would allow us; so, attaching our raft firmly to the boat, we hoisted our sail, and made slowly to the shore.

We started by completely emptying our cabin and the captain's cabin. We even took the doors and windows. Then we grabbed the carpenter's and gunner's chests. There were cases of expensive jewelry and caskets full of money that tempted us at first, but we quickly decided to go for things that were actually useful. I chose a case of young plants of European fruits, which were carefully packed in moss for transport. I was thrilled to see, among these precious plants, apple, pear, plum, orange, apricot, peach, almond, and chestnut trees, along with some young vine shoots. I really wanted to plant these familiar trees from home in this foreign land. We also secured some iron bars and lead ingots, grindstones, cart wheels ready for mounting, tongs, shovels, plowshares, packs of copper and iron wire, and sacks of maize, peas, oats, and vetch; plus a small hand mill. The ship had been loaded with everything likely to be useful in a new colony. We found a sawmill in pieces, but it was marked so we could easily reassemble it. It was tough to pick, but we took as much as we could safely fit on the raft, adding a large fishing net and the ship's compass. Fritz wanted to take the harpoons, which he hung by ropes over the bow of our boat, and I indulged him. We were now loaded as much as we could prudently manage, so we secured our raft to the boat, raised our sail, and slowly headed to the shore.


CHAPTER XVIII.

The wind was favourable, but we advanced slowly, the floating mass that we had to tug retarding us. Fritz had been some time regarding a large object in the water; he called me to steer a little towards it, that he might see what it was. I went to the rudder, and made the movement; immediately I heard the whistling of the cord, and felt a shock; then a second, which was followed by a rapid motion of the boat.

The wind was good, but we moved slowly because the heavy mass we had to pull was holding us back. Fritz had been looking at a large object in the water for a while; he called me over to steer a little toward it so he could see what it was. I went to the rudder and made the adjustment; immediately, I heard the whistling of the rope and felt a jolt, followed by a second one, which was then followed by the boat moving quickly.

“We are going to founder!” cried I. “What is the matter?”

“We're going to sink!” I shouted. “What's going on?”

“I have caught it,” shouted Fritz; “I have harpooned it in the neck. It is a turtle.”

“I got it!” shouted Fritz. “I harpooned it in the neck. It’s a turtle.”

I saw the harpoon shining at a distance, and the turtle was rapidly drawing us along by the line. I lowered the sail, and rushed forward to cut the line; but Fritz besought me not to do it. He assured me there was no danger, and that he himself would release us if necessary. I reluctantly consented, and saw our whole convoy drawn by an animal whose agony increased its strength. As we drew near the shore, I endeavoured to steer so that we might not strike and be capsized. I saw after a few minutes that our conductor again wanted to make out to sea; I therefore hoisted the sail, and the wind being in our favour, he found resistance vain, and, tugging as before, followed up the current, only taking more to the left, towards Falcon’s Nest, and landing us in a shallow, rested on the shore. I leaped out of the boat, and with a hatchet soon put our powerful conductor out of his misery.

I saw the harpoon glinting from a distance, and the turtle was quickly pulling us along by the line. I lowered the sail and rushed forward to cut the line, but Fritz urged me not to. He assured me there was no danger and that he would free us if needed. I reluctantly agreed and watched as our entire convoy was pulled by an animal whose pain only made it stronger. As we got closer to the shore, I tried to steer so we wouldn’t crash and capsize. After a few minutes, I noticed our guide wanted to head back out to sea again; so I hoisted the sail, and with the wind on our side, he found his efforts useless. Tugging as before, he followed the current, veering more to the left towards Falcon’s Nest, and landed us in shallow water, resting on the shore. I jumped out of the boat and, with a hatchet, quickly ended our powerful guide's misery.

Fritz uttered a shout of joy, and fired off his gun, as a signal of our arrival. All came running to greet us, and great was their surprise, not only at the value of our cargo, but at the strange mode by which it had been brought into harbour. My first care was to send them for the sledge, to remove some of our load without delay, and as the ebbing tide was leaving our vessels almost dry on the sand, I profited by the opportunity to secure them. By the aid of the jack-screw and levers, we raised and brought to the shore two large pieces of lead from the raft. These served for anchors and, connected to the boat and raft by strong cables, fixed them safely.

Fritz shouted with joy and fired his gun as a signal for our arrival. Everyone came running to welcome us, and they were greatly surprised, not just by the value of our cargo but also by the unusual way we had brought it into the harbor. My first priority was to send them to get the sledge to remove some of our load quickly, and since the receding tide was leaving our vessels almost stranded on the sand, I took the chance to secure them. With the help of the jack-screw and levers, we lifted and brought two large pieces of lead from the raft to the shore. These served as anchors, and by connecting them to the boat and raft with strong cables, we secured them safely.

As soon as the sledge arrived, we placed the turtle with some difficulty on it, as it weighed at least three hundredweight. We added some lighter articles, the mattresses, some small chests, &c., and proceeded with our first load to Falcon’s Nest in great spirits. As we walked on, Fritz told them of the wondrous cases of jewellery we had abandoned for things of use; Jack wished Fritz had brought him a gold snuff-box, to hold curious seeds; and Francis wished for some of the money to buy gingerbread at the fair! Everybody laughed at the little simpleton, who could not help laughing himself, when he remembered his distance from fairs. Arrived at home, our first care was to turn the turtle on his back, to get the excellent meat out of the shell. With my hatchet I separated the cartilages that unite the shells: the upper shell is convex, the lower one nearly flat.

As soon as the sled arrived, we struggled a bit to lift the turtle onto it since it weighed at least three hundred pounds. We added some lighter items, like the mattresses and a few small chests, and set off with our first load to Falcon’s Nest, feeling really good. As we walked, Fritz shared stories about the amazing jewelry we had left behind for more useful things; Jack wished Fritz had brought him a gold snuff box to hold interesting seeds; and Francis wanted some of the money to buy gingerbread at the fair! Everyone laughed at the little simpleton, who couldn’t help but laugh too when he remembered how far away he was from fairs. Once we got home, our first task was to flip the turtle onto its back to get the delicious meat out of the shell. With my hatchet, I separated the cartilages that hold the shells together: the upper shell is curved, while the lower one is almost flat.

We had some of the turtle prepared for dinner, though my wife felt great repugnance in touching the green fat, notwithstanding my assurance of its being the chief delicacy to an epicure.

We had some of the turtle ready for dinner, but my wife was really uneasy about touching the green fat, even though I assured her that it was a top delicacy for food lovers.

We salted the remainder of the flesh, and gave the offal to the dogs. The boys were all clamorous to possess the shell; but I said it belonged to Fritz, by right of conquest, and he must dispose of it as he thought best.

We salted the rest of the meat and gave the organs to the dogs. The boys were all eager to have the shell, but I said it belonged to Fritz, by right of conquest, and he could do what he wanted with it.

“Then,” said he, “I will make a basin of it, and place it near the river, that my mother may always keep it full of fresh water.”

“Then,” he said, “I’ll make a basin for it and place it by the river so my mom can always keep it full of fresh water.”

“Very good,” said I, “and we will fill our basin, as soon as we find some clay to make a solid foundation.”

“Sounds great,” I said, “and we’ll fill our basin as soon as we find some clay to create a solid foundation.”

“I found some this morning,” said Jack,—“a whole bed of clay, and I brought these balls home to show you.”

“I found some this morning,” said Jack, “a whole patch of clay, and I brought these balls home to show you.”

“And I have made a discovery too,” said Ernest. “Look at these roots, like radishes; I have not eaten any, but the sow enjoys them very much.”

“And I’ve made a discovery too,” said Ernest. “Check out these roots, like radishes; I haven't eaten any, but the pig loves them.”

“A most valuable discovery, indeed,” said I; “if I am not mistaken, this is the root of the manioc, which with the potatoes will insure us from famine. Of this root they make in the West Indies a sort of bread, called cassava bread. In its natural state it contains a violent poison, but by a process of heating it becomes wholesome. The nutritious tapioca is a preparation from this root.”

“A really valuable discovery, for sure,” I said; “if I’m not mistaken, this is the root of the manioc, which along with the potatoes will protect us from starving. In the West Indies, they make a type of bread from this root, known as cassava bread. It has a strong poison in its natural form, but by cooking it, it becomes safe to eat. The nutritious tapioca is made from this root.”

By this time we had unloaded, and proceeded to the shore to bring a second load before night came on. We brought up two chests of our own clothes and property, some chests of tools, the cart-wheels, and the hand-mill, likely now to be of use for the cassava. After unloading, we sat down to an excellent supper of turtle, with potatoes, instead of bread. After supper, my wife said, smiling, “After such a hard day, I think I can give you something to restore you.” She then brought a bottle and glasses, and filled us each a glass of clear, amber-coloured wine. I found it excellent Malaga. She had been down to the shore the previous day, and there found a small cask thrown up by the waves. This, with the assistance of her sons, she had rolled up to the foot of our tree, and there covered it with leaves to keep it cool till our arrival.

By this time, we had unloaded and headed to the shore to bring in a second load before night fell. We brought back two chests of our own clothes and belongings, some tool chests, the cart wheels, and the hand mill, which would likely be useful for the cassava. After unloading, we sat down to a delicious dinner of turtle with potatoes instead of bread. After dinner, my wife smiled and said, “After such a long day, I think I can give you something to lift your spirits.” She then brought out a bottle and glasses, filling each of ours with clear, amber wine. I found it to be excellent Malaga. She had gone down to the shore the day before and discovered a small cask washed up by the waves. With the help of her sons, she had rolled it up to the foot of our tree and covered it with leaves to keep it cool until we arrived.

We were so invigorated by this cordial, that we set briskly to work to hoist up our mattresses to our dormitory, which we accomplished by the aid of ropes and pulleys. My wife received and arranged them, and after our usual evening devotions, we gladly lay down on them, to enjoy a night of sweet repose.

We felt so energized by this warm reception that we quickly got to work lifting our mattresses up to our dormitory, which we managed with the help of ropes and pulleys. My wife received and arranged them, and after our usual evening prayers, we happily lay down on them to enjoy a night of restful sleep.


CHAPTER XIX.

I rose before daylight, and, leaving my family sleeping, descended, to go to the shore to look after my vessels. I found all the animals moving. The dogs leaped about me; the cocks were crowing; the goats browsing on the dewy grass. The ass alone was sleeping; and, as he was the assistant I wanted, I was compelled to rouse him, a preference which did not appear to flatter him. Nevertheless, I harnessed him to the sledge, and, followed by the dogs, went forward to the coast, where I found my boat and raft safe at anchor. I took up a moderate load and came home to breakfast; but found all still as I left them. I called my family, and they sprung up ashamed of their sloth; my wife declared it must have been the good mattress that had charmed her.

I got up before dawn and, leaving my family sleeping, went down to the shore to check on my boats. I saw all the animals active. The dogs were jumping around me; the roosters were crowing; the goats were nibbling on the dewy grass. The donkey was the only one still sleeping, and since he was the helper I needed, I had to wake him up, which didn’t seem to please him. Still, I hitched him to the sled and, with the dogs following, headed to the coast, where I found my boat and raft safely anchored. I loaded up a reasonable amount and went home for breakfast, but everything was just as I had left it. I called for my family, and they jumped up, embarrassed by their laziness; my wife said it must have been the comfy mattress that kept her asleep.

I gave my boys a short admonition for their sloth. We then came down to a hasty breakfast, and returned to the coast to finish the unloading the boats, that I might, at high water, take them round to moor at the usual place in the Bay of Safety. I sent my wife up with the last load, while Fritz and I embarked, and, seeing Jack watching us, I consented that he should form one of the crew, for I had determined to make another visit to the wreck before I moored my craft. When we reached the vessel, the day was so far advanced that we had only time to collect hastily anything easy to embark. My sons ran over the ship. Jack came trundling a wheelbarrow, which he said would be excellent for fetching the potatoes in.

I gave my boys a quick warning for being lazy. We then hurried down to a fast breakfast and went back to the coast to finish unloading the boats so I could take them around to moor at the usual spot in the Bay of Safety when the tide was high. I sent my wife up with the last load while Fritz and I got on the boat. When I saw Jack watching us, I decided he could join our crew because I planned to visit the wreck again before mooring my boat. By the time we reached the vessel, the day was already pretty far along, so we only had time to quickly grab anything easy to take back. My sons ran around the ship. Jack came over with a wheelbarrow that he said would be great for carrying the potatoes.

But Fritz brought me good news: he had found, between decks, a beautiful pinnace (a small vessel, of which the prow is square), taken to pieces, with all its fittings, and even two small guns. I saw that all the pieces were numbered, and placed in order; nothing was wanting. I felt the importance of this acquisition; but it would take days of labour to put it together; and then how could we launch it? At present, I felt I must renounce the undertaking. I returned to my loading. It consisted of all sorts of utensils: a copper boiler, some plates of iron, tobacco-graters, two grindstones, a barrel of powder, and one of flints. Jack did not forget his wheelbarrow; and we found two more, which we added to our cargo, and then sailed off speedily, to avoid the land-wind, which rises in the evening.

But Fritz brought me great news: he had found, between decks, a beautiful pinnace (a small boat with a square bow), taken apart, with all its fittings, and even two small cannons. I saw that all the pieces were numbered and arranged in order; nothing was missing. I realized how important this find was; but it would take days of work to put it together, and then how could we launch it? For now, I felt I had to give up on the project. I went back to loading. It included all kinds of tools: a copper boiler, some iron plates, tobacco graters, two grindstones, a barrel of gunpowder, and one of flints. Jack didn’t forget his wheelbarrow; and we found two more, which we added to our load, and then quickly sailed off to avoid the land breeze that comes up in the evening.

As we drew near, we were astonished to see a row of little creatures standing on the shore, apparently regarding us with much curiosity. They were dressed in black, with white waistcoats, and thick cravats; their arms hung down carelessly; but from time to time they raised them as if they wished to bestow on us a fraternal embrace.

As we got closer, we were amazed to see a line of small creatures standing on the shore, seemingly watching us with great curiosity. They were dressed in black with white vests and thick ties; their arms hung loosely at their sides, but occasionally they raised them as if they wanted to give us a friendly hug.

“I believe,” said I, laughing, “this must be the country of pigmies, and they are coming to welcome us.”

“I think,” I said, laughing, “this must be the land of little people, and they’re coming to greet us.”

“They are the Lilliputians, father,” said Jack; “I have read of them; but I thought they had been less.”

“They're the Lilliputians, Dad,” said Jack; “I’ve read about them, but I thought they’d be smaller.”

“As if Gulliver’s Travels was true!” said Fritz, in a tone of derision.

“As if Gulliver’s Travels was real!” said Fritz, mocking.

“Then are there no pigmies?” asked he.

“Then are there no pigmies?” he asked.

“No, my dear boy,” said I; “all these stories are either the invention or the mistakes of ancient navigators, who have taken troops of monkeys for men, or who have wished to repeat something marvellous. But the romance of Gulliver is an allegory, intended to convey great truths.”

“No, my dear boy,” I said; “all these stories are either made up or mistakes from ancient navigators, who mistook groups of monkeys for people, or who wanted to share something amazing. But the story of Gulliver is an allegory meant to convey important truths.”

“And now,” said Fritz, “I begin to see our pigmies have beaks and wings.”

“And now,” said Fritz, “I’m starting to see that our little creatures have beaks and wings.”

“You are right,” said I; “they are penguins, as Ernest explained to us some time since. They are good swimmers; but, unable to fly, are very helpless on land.”

“You're right,” I said; “they're penguins, as Ernest explained to us some time ago. They're great swimmers, but since they can't fly, they're pretty helpless on land.”

I steered gently to the shore, that I might not disturb them; but Jack leaped into the water up to his knees, and, dashing among the penguins, with a stick struck right and left, knocking down half a dozen of the poor stupid birds before they were aware. Some of these we brought away alive. The rest, not liking such a reception, took to the water, and were soon out of sight. I scolded Jack for his useless rashness, for the flesh of the penguin is by no means a delicacy.

I gently guided the boat to the shore so I wouldn't disturb them, but Jack jumped into the water up to his knees and started splashing around among the penguins. With a stick, he swung it wildly, knocking down about half a dozen of the poor, clueless birds before they even knew what was happening. We managed to bring some of them back alive, but the rest, not enjoying that welcome, quickly dove into the water and disappeared. I scolded Jack for his pointless recklessness since penguin meat is definitely not a gourmet treat.

We now filled our three wheelbarrows with such things as we could carry, not forgetting the sheets of iron and the graters, and trudged home. Our dogs announced our approach, and all rushed out to meet us. A curious and merry examination commenced. They laughed at my graters; but I let them laugh, for I had a project in my head. The penguins I intended for our poultry-yard; and, for the present, I ordered the boys to tie each of them by a leg to one of our geese or ducks, who opposed the bondage very clamorously; but necessity made them submissive.

We filled our three wheelbarrows with whatever we could carry, making sure not to forget the sheets of iron and the graters, and made our way home. Our dogs announced our arrival, and everyone rushed out to greet us. A curious and cheerful inspection began. They laughed at my graters; but I didn’t mind, because I had a plan in mind. I intended to use the penguins for our poultry yard; for now, I told the boys to tie each of them by a leg to one of our geese or ducks, who protested loudly; but necessity made them compliant.

My wife showed me a large store of potatoes and manioc roots, which she and her children had dug up the evening before. We then went to supper, and talked of all we had seen in the vessel, especially of the pinnace, which we had been obliged to leave. My wife did not feel much regret on this account, as she dreaded maritime expeditions, though she agreed she might have felt less uneasiness if we had had a vessel of this description. I gave my sons a charge to rise early next morning, as we had an important business on hand; and curiosity roused them all in very good time. After our usual preparations for the day, I addressed them thus: “Gentlemen, I am going to teach you all a new business,—that of a baker. Give me the plates of iron and the graters we brought yesterday.” My wife was astonished; but I requested her to wait patiently and she should have bread, not perhaps light buns, but eatable flat cakes. But first she was to make me two small bags of sailcloth. She obeyed me; but, at the same time, I observed she put the potatoes on the fire, a proof she had not much faith in my bread-making. I then spread a cloth over the ground, and, giving each of the boys a grater, we began to grate the carefully-washed manioc roots, resting the end on the cloth. In a short time we had a heap of what appeared to be moist white sawdust; certainly not tempting to the appetite; but the little workmen were amused with their labour, and jested no little about the cakes made of scraped radishes.

My wife showed me a huge stash of potatoes and cassava roots that she and the kids had dug up the night before. We then sat down for dinner and talked about everything we had seen on the ship, especially the small boat we had to leave behind. My wife didn’t feel too sad about it, as she feared sea trips, although she agreed she might have been less anxious if we had had a boat like that. I told my sons to wake up early the next morning because we had important work to do; their curiosity got them up at a good hour. After our usual morning routine, I said to them, “Guys, I’m going to teach you a new skill—how to bake. Hand me the iron plates and the graters we brought yesterday.” My wife was shocked, but I asked her to be patient; she would have bread, maybe not fluffy rolls, but edible flat cakes. First, though, I needed her to make me two small bags out of sailcloth. She complied, but I noticed she put the potatoes on the fire, a sign that she didn’t really believe in my bread-making abilities. I then laid a cloth on the ground, and giving each of the boys a grater, we started grating the cleaned manioc roots, resting the ends on the cloth. Before long, we had a pile that looked like damp white sawdust; not exactly appetizing, but the little workers were entertained by their task and joked a lot about cakes made from grated radishes.

“Laugh now, boys,” said I; “we shall see, after a while. But you, Ernest, ought to know that the manioc is one of the most precious of alimentary roots, forming the principal sustenance of many nations of America, and often preferred by Europeans, who inhabit those countries, to wheaten bread.”

“Laugh now, guys,” I said; “we’ll see in a bit. But you, Ernest, should know that manioc is one of the most valuable food roots, serving as the main source of nourishment for many nations in America, and is often preferred by Europeans living there over wheat bread.”

When all the roots were grated, I filled the two bags closely with the pollard, and my wife sewed the ends up firmly. It was now necessary to apply strong pressure to extract the juice from the root, as this juice is a deadly poison. I selected an oak beam, one end of which we fixed between the roots of our tree; beneath this I placed our bags on a row of little blocks of wood; I then took a large bough, which I had cut from a tree, and prepared for the purpose, and laid it across them. We all united then in drawing down the opposite end of the plank over the bough, till we got it to a certain point, when we suspended to it the heaviest substances we possessed; hammers, bars of iron, and masses of lead. This acting upon the manioc, the sap burst through the cloth, and flowed on the ground copiously. When I thought the pressure was complete, we relieved the bags from the lever, and opening one, drew out a handful of the pollard, still rather moist, resembling coarse maize-flour.

When all the roots were grated, I filled the two bags tightly with the pulp, and my wife sewed the ends shut securely. We now needed to apply strong pressure to extract the juice from the root, since this juice is extremely poisonous. I chose an oak beam, fixing one end between the roots of our tree; beneath it, I placed our bags on a row of small wooden blocks. Then I took a large branch that I had cut from a tree for this purpose and laid it across the bags. We all worked together to pull down the opposite end of the plank over the branch until we reached a certain point, then we suspended the heaviest things we had; hammers, iron bars, and chunks of lead. This applied pressure to the manioc, causing the sap to burst through the cloth and flow heavily onto the ground. When I thought we had applied enough pressure, we removed the bags from the lever, and opening one, pulled out a handful of the pulp, which was still somewhat moist and resembled coarse cornmeal.

“It only wants a little heat to complete our success,” said I, in great delight. I ordered a fire to be lighted, and fixing one of our iron plates, which was round in form, and rather concave, on two stones placed on each side of the fire, I covered it with the flour which we took from the bag with a small wooden shovel. It soon formed a solid cake, which we turned, that it might be equally baked.

“It just needs a little heat to finish our success,” I said, feeling really happy. I had a fire started, and I placed one of our round, slightly concave iron plates on two stones beside the fire. Using a small wooden shovel, I covered it with the flour we took from the bag. It quickly formed a solid cake, which we flipped so it could cook evenly.

It smelled so good, that they all wished to commence eating immediately; and I had some difficulty in convincing them that this was only a trial, and that our baking was still imperfect. Besides, as I told them there were three kinds of manioc, of which one contained more poison than the rest, I thought it prudent to try whether we had perfectly extracted it, by giving a small quantity to our fowls. As soon, therefore, as the cake was cold, I gave some to two chickens, which I kept apart; and also some to Master Knips, the monkey, that he might, for the first time, do us a little service. He ate it with so much relish, and such grimaces of enjoyment, that my young party were quite anxious to share his feast; but I ordered them to wait till we could judge of the effect, and, leaving our employment, we went to our dinner of potatoes, to which my wife had added one of the penguins, which was truly rather tough and fishy; but as Jack would not allow this, and declared it was a dish fit for a king, we allowed him to regale on it as much as he liked. During dinner, I talked to them of the various preparations made from the manioc; I told my wife we could obtain an excellent starch from the expressed juice; but this did not interest her much, as at present she usually wore the dress of a sailor, for convenience, and had neither caps nor collars to starch.

It smelled so good that they all wanted to start eating right away, and I had a hard time convincing them that this was just a test and that our baking wasn't quite right yet. Plus, as I mentioned, there are three types of manioc, one of which is more poisonous than the others. I thought it would be wise to check if we had removed the poison completely by giving a small amount to our chickens. So, as soon as the cake was cool, I fed some to two chickens I kept separated, and also gave some to Master Knips, the monkey, so he could help us out for the first time. He ate it with such enjoyment and funny expressions that the kids were eager to join in, but I told them to wait until we could see how it affected the animals. We then took a break from our work and had dinner of potatoes, to which my wife added one of the penguins. It was pretty tough and fishy, but since Jack insisted it was fit for a king, we let him enjoy it as much as he wanted. During dinner, I talked to them about the different ways to use manioc. I told my wife that we could make excellent starch from the extracted juice, but that didn’t really interest her since she was currently wearing a sailor’s outfit for convenience and didn’t have any caps or collars to starch.

The cake made from the root is called by the natives of the Antilles cassava, and in no savage nation do we find any word signifying bread; an article of food unknown to them.

The cake made from the root is called by the natives of the Antilles cassava, and in no savage nation do we find any word meaning bread; a type of food that's unknown to them.

We spoke of poisons; and I explained to my sons the different nature and effects of them. Especially I warned them against the manchineel, which ought to grow in this part of the world. I described the fruit to them, as resembling a tempting yellow apple, with red spots, which is one of the most deadly poisons: it is said that even to sleep under the tree is dangerous. I forbade them to taste any unknown fruit, and they promised to obey me.

We talked about poisons, and I explained to my sons the various types and their effects. I especially warned them about the manchineel, which is found in this part of the world. I described the fruit as looking like a tempting yellow apple with red spots, and it's one of the deadliest poisons. It's said that even sleeping under the tree is dangerous. I told them not to taste any unknown fruit, and they promised to listen to me.

On leaving the table, we went to visit the victims of our experiment. Jack whistled for Knips, who came in three bounds from the summit of a high tree, where he had doubtless been plundering some nest; and his vivacity, and the peaceful cackling of the fowls, assured us our preparation was harmless.

On leaving the table, we went to check on the victims of our experiment. Jack whistled for Knips, who jumped down from the top of a tall tree in three big leaps, probably having raided some nest; and his energy, along with the calm clucking of the hens, convinced us that our setup was harmless.

“Now, gentlemen,” said I, laughing, “to the bakehouse, and let us see what we can do.” I wished them each to try to make the cakes. They immediately kindled the fire and heated the iron plate. In the mean time, I broke up the grated cassava, and mixed it with a little milk; and giving each of them a cocoa-nut basin filled with the paste, I showed them how to pour it with a spoon upon the plate, and spread it about; when the paste began to puff up, I judged it was baked on one side, and turned it, like a pancake, with a fork; and after a little time, we had a quantity of nice yellow biscuits, which, with a jug of milk, made us a delicious collation; and determined us, without delay, to set about cultivating the manioc.

“Alright, guys,” I said, laughing, “let’s head to the bakehouse and see what we can whip up.” I wanted each of them to try making the cakes. They quickly lit the fire and heated the iron plate. In the meantime, I broke up the grated cassava and mixed it with a little milk. Handing each of them a coconut bowl filled with the mixture, I showed them how to pour it onto the plate with a spoon and spread it around. When the mixture started to puff up, I figured it was baked on one side and flipped it over like a pancake with a fork. After a little while, we ended up with a bunch of nice yellow biscuits, which, along with a jug of milk, made a delicious snack and made us decide right away to start cultivating the cassava.

The rest of the day was employed in bringing up the remainder of our cargo, by means of the sledge and the useful wheelbarrows.

The rest of the day was spent getting the rest of our cargo up using the sledge and the handy wheelbarrows.


CHAPTER XX.

The next morning I decided on returning to the wreck. The idea of the pinnace continually haunted my mind, and left me no repose. But it was necessary to take all the hands I could raise, and with difficulty I got my wife’s consent to take my three elder sons, on promising her we would return in the evening. We set out, taking provision for the day, and soon arrived at the vessel, when my boys began to load the raft with all manner of portable things. But the great matter was the pinnace. It was contained in the after-hold of the vessel, immediately below the officers’ berths. My sons, with all the ardour of their age, begged to begin by clearing a space in the vessel to put the pinnace together, and we might afterwards think how we should launch it. Under any other circumstances I should have shown them the folly of such an undertaking; but in truth, I had myself a vague hope of success, that encouraged me, and I cried out, “To work! to work!” The hold was lighted by some chinks in the ship’s side. We set diligently to work, hacking, cutting, and sawing away all obstacles, and before evening we had a clear space round us. But now it was necessary to return, and we put to sea with our cargo, purposing to continue our work daily. On reaching the Bay of Safety, we had the pleasure of finding my wife and Francis, who had established themselves at Tent House, intending to continue there till our visits to the vessel were concluded; that they might always keep us in sight, and spare us the unnecessary labour of a walk after our day’s work.

The next morning, I decided to go back to the wreck. The thought of the small boat kept bothering me and I couldn't relax. I needed to bring as many people as I could gather, and after some effort, I got my wife's permission to take my three older sons, promising her we would be back by evening. We set off with supplies for the day and soon reached the ship, where my boys started loading the raft with all sorts of portable items. But the main concern was the small boat. It was located in the back hold of the vessel, right below the officers' quarters. My sons, full of youthful enthusiasm, urged me to start by clearing a space in the ship to assemble the small boat, and we could figure out later how to launch it. Under normal circumstances, I would have shown them how foolish that idea was; however, I honestly had a vague hope of success that encouraged me, so I shouted, "Let's get to work!" The hold was lit by some gaps in the ship's side. We got busy chopping, cutting, and sawing away all the obstacles, and by evening, we had cleared a space around us. But now it was time to return home, so we set sail with our load, planning to continue our work daily. When we arrived at the Bay of Safety, we were happy to find my wife and Francis, who had settled at Tent House, intending to stay there until we finished our visits to the vessel, so they could always keep an eye on us and save us the unnecessary walk after our day's work.

I thanked my wife tenderly for this kind sacrifice, for I knew how much she enjoyed the cool shade of Falcon’s Nest; and in return I showed her the treasures we had brought her from the vessel, consisting of two barrels of salt butter, three hogsheads of flour, several bags of millet, rice, and other grains, and a variety of useful household articles, which she conveyed with great delight to our storehouse in the rocks.

I thanked my wife warmly for this generous sacrifice, knowing how much she loved the cool shade of Falcon’s Nest. In return, I showed her the treasures we had brought back from the ship, including two barrels of salt butter, three large barrels of flour, several bags of millet, rice, and other grains, along with a variety of useful household items. She happily carried them to our storehouse in the rocks.

For a week we spent every day in the vessel, returning in the evening to enjoy a good supper, and talk of our progress; and my wife, happily engrossed with her poultry and other household cares, got accustomed to our absence. With much hard labour, the pinnace was at last put together. Its construction was light and elegant, it looked as if it would sail well; at the head was a short half-deck; the masts and sails were like those of a brigantine. We carefully caulked all the seams with tow dipped in melted tar; and we even indulged ourselves by placing the two small guns in it, fastened by chains.

For a week, we spent every day on the boat, returning in the evening to enjoy a nice dinner and talk about our progress. My wife, happily busy with her chickens and other household tasks, got used to our absence. After a lot of hard work, the small boat was finally put together. It was light and sleek, looking like it would sail well; at the front was a small half-deck, and the masts and sails were like those of a brigantine. We carefully sealed all the seams with tow soaked in melted tar, and we even treated ourselves by placing the two small cannons inside, secured with chains.

And there stood the beautiful little bark, immovable on the stocks. We admired it incessantly; but what could we do to get it afloat? The difficulty of forcing a way through the mighty timbers lined with copper, that formed the side of the ship, was insurmountable.

And there stood the beautiful little boat, stuck on the blocks. We admired it constantly; but what could we do to get it in the water? The challenge of cutting through the massive timber lined with copper that made up the ship's side was impossible.

Suddenly, suggested by the excess of my despair, a bold but dangerous idea presented itself to me, in which all might be lost, as well as all gained. I said nothing about this to my children, to avoid the vexation of a possible disappointment, but began to execute my plan.

Suddenly, driven by my overwhelming despair, a daring yet risky idea came to me, one where I could lose everything or gain it all. I didn’t share this with my children to spare them the frustration of possible disappointment, but I started to put my plan into action.

I found a cast-iron mortar, exactly fitted for my purpose, which I filled with gunpowder. I then took a strong oak plank to cover it, to which I fixed iron hooks, so that they could reach the handles of the mortar. I cut a groove in the side of the plank, that I might introduce a long match, which should burn at least two hours before it reached the powder. I placed the plank then over the mortar, fastened the hooks through the handles, surrounded it with pitch, and then bound some strong chains round the whole, to give it greater solidity. I proceeded to suspend this infernal machine against the side of the ship near our work, taking care to place it where the recoil from the explosion should not injure the pinnace. When all was ready, I gave the signal of departure, my sons having been employed in the boat, and not observing my preparations. I remained a moment to fire the match, and then hastily joined them with a beating heart, and proceeded to the shore.

I found a cast-iron mortar that was perfect for what I needed, so I filled it with gunpowder. Then, I took a sturdy oak plank to cover it and attached iron hooks to reach the mortar's handles. I cut a groove in the side of the plank to insert a long match that would burn for at least two hours before reaching the powder. I placed the plank over the mortar, secured the hooks through the handles, surrounded it with pitch, and then wrapped it with strong chains for added stability. I then suspended this dangerous setup against the side of the ship near our work area, making sure to position it so the blast wouldn't damage the boat. Once everything was ready, I signaled for departure while my sons were busy in the boat and unaware of my preparations. I took a moment to light the match, then quickly joined them with my heart racing as we made our way to the shore.

As soon as we reached our harbour, I detached the raft, that I might return in the boat as soon as I heard the explosion. We began actively to unload the boat, and while thus employed, a report like thunder was heard. All trembled, and threw down their load in terror.

As soon as we got to our harbor, I untied the raft so I could go back in the boat as soon as I heard the explosion. We started unloading the boat, and while we were doing that, a sound like thunder was heard. Everyone shook with fear and dropped their loads.

“What can it be?” cried they. “Perhaps a signal from some vessel in distress. Let us go to their assistance.”

“What could it be?” they shouted. “Maybe it’s a signal from a ship in trouble. Let’s go help them.”

“It came from the vessel,” said my wife. “It must have blown up. You have not been careful of fire; and have left some near a barrel of gunpowder.”

“It came from the ship,” my wife said. “It must have exploded. You haven’t been careful with fire and have left some near a barrel of gunpowder.”

“At all events,” said I, “we will go and ascertain the cause. Who’ll go with me?”

“At any rate,” I said, “we’ll go find out what’s going on. Who’s coming with me?”

By way of reply, my three sons leaped into the boat, and consoling the anxious mother by a promise to return immediately, away we rowed. We never made the voyage so quickly. Curiosity quickened the movements of my sons, and I was all impatience to see the result of my project. As we approached, I was glad to see no appearance of flames, or even smoke. The position of the vessel did not seem altered. Instead of entering the vessel as usual, we rounded the prow, and came opposite the other side. The greater part of the side of the ship was gone. The sea was covered with the remains of it. In its place stood our beautiful pinnace, quite uninjured, only leaning a little over the stocks. At the sight I cried out, in a transport that amazed my sons, “Victory! victory! the charming vessel is our own; it will be easy now to launch her.”

In response, my three sons jumped into the boat, promising their worried mother that they would be back right away, and off we rowed. We had never made the trip so fast. My sons' curiosity made them move quickly, and I was eager to see how my plan would turn out. As we got closer, I was relieved to see no signs of fire or even smoke. The position of the ship didn’t seem changed. Instead of going aboard like we usually did, we went around the front and came up on the other side. Most of the side of the ship was gone. The sea was covered with its remnants. Standing in its place was our beautiful boat, completely unharmed, just leaning a little over the supports. At the sight, I shouted in excitement that surprised my sons, “Victory! Victory! The lovely vessel is ours; it will be easy to launch her now.”

“Ah! I comprehend now,” said Fritz. “Papa has blown up the ship; but how could you manage to do it so exactly?”

“Ah! I get it now,” said Fritz. “Dad has blown up the ship; but how did you manage to do it so perfectly?”

I explained all to him, as we entered through the broken side of the devoted vessel. I soon ascertained that no fire remained; and that the pinnace had escaped any injury. We set to work to clear away all the broken timbers in our way, and, by the aid of the jack-screw and levers, we moved the pinnace, which we had taken care to build on rollers, to the opening; then attaching a strong cable to her head, and fixing the other end to the most solid part of the ship, we easily launched her. It was too late to do any more now, except carefully securing our prize. And we returned to the good mother, to whom, wishing to give her an agreeable surprise, we merely said, that the side of the vessel was blown out with powder; but we were still able to obtain more from it; at which she sighed, and, in her heart, I have no doubt, wished the vessel, and all it contained, at the bottom of the sea.

I explained everything to him as we walked through the damaged side of the dedicated ship. I quickly discovered that there was no fire left and that the small boat had avoided any harm. We got to work clearing away all the broken wood in our way, and using the jack-screw and levers, we moved the small boat—which we had made sure to place on rollers—to the opening. Then, we attached a strong cable to her front and secured the other end to the sturdiest part of the ship, easily launching her. There wasn’t much more to do now except to carefully secure our prize. We went back to the good mother, wanting to give her a pleasant surprise, and simply told her that the side of the ship had been blown out with gunpowder, but we were still able to salvage more from it. She sighed, and I have no doubt that deep down, she wished the ship and all it contained would sink to the bottom of the sea.

We had two days of incessant labour in fitting and loading the pinnace; finally, after putting up our masts, ropes, and sails, we selected a cargo of things our boats could not bring. When all was ready, my boys obtained permission, as a reward for their industry, to salute their mamma, as we entered the bay, by firing our two guns. Fritz was captain, and Ernest and Jack, at his command, put their matches to the guns, and fired. My wife and little boy rushed out in alarm; but our joyful shouts soon re-assured them; and they were ready to welcome us with astonishment and delight. Fritz placed a plank from the pinnace to the shore, and, assisting his mother, she came on board. They gave her a new salute, and christened the vessel The Elizabeth, after her.

We spent two days working non-stop to fit and load the boat. Finally, after putting up the masts, ropes, and sails, we picked a cargo of things that our other boats couldn't carry. Once everything was ready, my boys got permission to salute their mom as a reward for their hard work by firing our two guns as we entered the bay. Fritz was the captain, and Ernest and Jack, following his lead, lit the fuses on the guns and fired. My wife and little boy rushed out in surprise, but our excited cheers quickly reassured them, and they were ready to greet us with amazement and happiness. Fritz set up a plank from the boat to the shore, and helping his mother, she came onboard. They gave her another salute and named the boat The Elizabeth after her.

My wife praised our skill and perseverance, but begged we would not suppose that Francis and she had been idle during our long absence. We moored the little fleet safely to the shore, and followed her up the river to the cascade, where we saw a neat garden laid out in beds and walks.

My wife praised our skills and determination, but begged us not to think that Francis and she had been lazy during our long absence. We anchored the little fleet safely to the shore and followed her up the river to the waterfall, where we saw a nice garden arranged in beds and paths.

“This is our work,” said she; “the soil here, being chiefly composed of decayed leaves, is light and easy to dig. There I have my potatoes; there manioc roots: these are sown with peas, beans and lentils; in this row of beds are sown lettuces, radishes, cabbages, and other European vegetables. I have reserved one part for sugar-canes; on the high ground I have transplanted pine-apples, and sown melons. Finally, round every bed, I have sown a border of maize, that the high, bushy stems may protect the young plants from the sun.”

“This is our work,” she said. “The soil here, mostly made up of decayed leaves, is light and easy to dig. Over there, I have my potatoes; there are manioc roots: these are planted with peas, beans, and lentils; in this row of beds, I’ve planted lettuces, radishes, cabbages, and other European vegetables. I’ve reserved one section for sugarcane; on the higher ground, I’ve transplanted pineapples and planted melons. Finally, around each bed, I’ve sown a border of maize so that the tall, bushy stems can protect the young plants from the sun.”

I was delighted with the result of the labour and industry of a delicate female and a child, and could scarcely believe it was accomplished in so short a time.

I was thrilled with the result of the hard work put in by a gentle woman and a child, and I could hardly believe it was done in such a short time.

“I must confess I had no great hope of success at first,” said my wife, “and this made me averse to speaking of it. Afterwards, when I suspected you had a secret, I determined to have one, too, and give you a surprise.”

“I have to admit I didn’t really expect to succeed at first,” said my wife, “and that’s why I didn’t want to talk about it. Later, when I thought you were keeping a secret, I decided I would keep one too and surprise you.”

After again applauding these useful labours, we returned to discharge our cargo; and as we went, my good Elizabeth, still full of horticultural plans, reminded me of the young fruit-trees we had brought from the vessel. I promised to look after them next day, and to establish my orchard near her kitchen-garden.

After appreciating these helpful efforts once more, we went back to unload our cargo; and as we walked, my dear Elizabeth, still bursting with gardening ideas, reminded me about the young fruit trees we had brought from the ship. I promised to take care of them the next day and to set up my orchard close to her kitchen garden.

We unloaded our vessels; placed on the sledge all that might be useful at Falcon’s Nest; and, arranging the rest under the tent, fixed our pinnace to the shore, by means of the anchor and a cord fastened to a heavy stone; and at length set out to Falcon’s Nest, where we arrived soon, to the great comfort of my wife, who dreaded the burning plain at Tent House.

We unloaded our boats, put everything useful on the sled for Falcon’s Nest, and organized the rest under the tent. We secured our small boat to the shore using an anchor and a rope tied to a heavy stone. Finally, we headed to Falcon’s Nest, arriving quickly, much to my wife’s relief, who was worried about the scorching ground at Tent House.


CHAPTER XXI.

After our return to Falcon’s Nest, I requested my sons to continue their exercises in gymnastics. I wished to develope all the vigour and energy that nature had given them; and which, in our situation, were especially necessary. I added to archery, racing, leaping, wrestling, and climbing trees, either by the trunks, or by a rope suspended from the branches, as sailors climb. I next taught them to use the lasso, a powerful weapon, by aid of which the people of South America capture savage animals. I fixed two balls of lead to the ends of a cord about a fathom in length. The Patagonians, I told them, used this weapon with wonderful dexterity. Having no leaden balls, they attach a heavy stone to each end of a cord about thirty yards long. If they wish to capture an animal, they hurl one of the stones at it with singular address. By the peculiar art with which the ball is thrown, the rope makes a turn or two round the neck of the animal, which remains entangled, without the power of escaping. In order to show the power of this weapon, I took aim at the trunk of a tree which they pointed out. My throw was quite successful. The end of the rope passed two or three times round the trunk of the tree, and remained firmly fixed to it. If the tree had been the neck of a tiger, I should have been absolute master of it. This experiment decided them all to learn the use of the lasso. Fritz was soon skilful in throwing it, and I encouraged the rest to persevere in acquiring the same facility, as the weapon might be invaluable to us when our ammunition failed.

After we got back to Falcon’s Nest, I asked my sons to keep practicing their gymnastics. I wanted to develop all the strength and energy that nature had given them, which were especially necessary in our situation. I added archery, racing, jumping, wrestling, and climbing trees, either by the trunks or using a rope hanging from the branches, like sailors do. I also taught them how to use the lasso, a powerful tool that people in South America use to catch wild animals. I attached two lead weights to the ends of a cord about a yard long. I told them that the Patagonians used this tool with amazing skill. Since they didn’t have lead weights, they tied heavy stones to each end of a cord about thirty yards long. When they want to catch an animal, they throw one of the stones at it with remarkable precision. The way they throw the ball makes the rope wrap around the animal’s neck, leaving it trapped and unable to escape. To demonstrate the effectiveness of this tool, I aimed at a tree trunk they pointed out. My throw was very successful. The end of the rope wrapped around the trunk a couple of times and stayed firmly attached. If the tree had been a tiger’s neck, I would have completely controlled it. This experiment convinced all of them to learn how to use the lasso. Fritz quickly became skilled at throwing it, and I encouraged the others to keep practicing to gain the same proficiency, as this tool could be invaluable if we ran out of ammunition.

The next morning I saw, on looking out, that the sea was too much agitated for any expedition in the boats; I therefore turned to some home employments. We looked over our stores for winter provision. My wife showed me a cask of ortolans she had preserved in butter, and a quantity of loaves of cassava bread, carefully prepared. She pointed out, that the pigeons had built in the tree, and were sitting on their eggs. We then looked over the young fruit-trees brought from Europe, and my sons and I immediately laid out a piece of ground, and planted them.

The next morning, when I looked outside, I saw that the sea was too rough for any boat trips, so I turned to some tasks around the house. We went through our supplies for winter food. My wife showed me a barrel of ortolans she had preserved in butter and a bunch of loaves of cassava bread, which she had carefully prepared. She pointed out that the pigeons had built a nest in the tree and were sitting on their eggs. We then checked on the young fruit trees we brought from Europe, and my sons and I quickly prepared a piece of land and planted them.

The day passed in these employments; and as we had lived only on potatoes, cassava bread, and milk for this day, we determined to go off next morning in pursuit of game to recruit our larder. At dawn of day we all started, including little Francis and his mother, who wished to take this opportunity of seeing a little more of the country. My sons and I took our arms, I harnessed the ass to the sledge which contained our provision for the day, and was destined to bring back the products of the chase. Turk, accoutred in his coat of mail, formed the advanced guard; my sons followed with their guns; then came my wife with Francis leading the ass; and at a little distance I closed the procession, with Master Knips mounted on the patient Flora.

The day went by with these activities, and since we had only eaten potatoes, cassava bread, and milk that day, we decided to head out the next morning to hunt for some game to replenish our supplies. At dawn, we all set off, including little Francis and his mom, who wanted to take the chance to see more of the area. My sons and I grabbed our weapons, I hooked the donkey up to the sled carrying our food for the day, which was meant to bring back the results of our hunt. Turk, wearing his protective gear, led the way; my sons followed with their guns; then came my wife with Francis guiding the donkey; and at a short distance behind them, I wrapped up the group, with Master Knips riding on the patient Flora.

We crossed Flamingo Marsh, and there my wife was charmed with the richness of the vegetation and the lofty trees. Fritz left us, thinking this a favourable spot for game. We soon heard the report of his gun, and an enormous bird fell a few paces from us. I ran to assist him, as he had much difficulty in securing his prize, which was only wounded in the wing, and was defending itself vigorously with its beak and claws. I threw a handkerchief over its head, and, confused by the darkness, I had no difficulty in binding it, and conveying it in triumph to the sledge. We were all in raptures at the sight of this beautiful creature, which Ernest pronounced to be a female of the bustard tribe. My wife hoped that the bird might be domesticated among her poultry, and, attracting some more of its species, might enlarge our stock of useful fowls. We soon arrived at the Wood of Monkeys, as we called it, where we had obtained our cocoa-nuts; and Fritz related the laughable scene of the stratagem to his mother and brothers. Ernest looked up wistfully at the nuts, but there were no monkeys to throw them down.

We crossed Flamingo Marsh, and there my wife was enchanted by the lush vegetation and tall trees. Fritz left us, thinking this would be a good spot for game. We soon heard the sound of his gun, and a huge bird fell just a few steps away from us. I rushed to help him, as he had a hard time securing his catch, which was only wounded in the wing and was fighting back fiercely with its beak and claws. I threw a handkerchief over its head, and confused by the darkness, I had no trouble binding it and proudly bringing it back to the sled. We were all thrilled to see this beautiful creature, which Ernest identified as a female bustard. My wife hoped that the bird could be domesticated among her poultry and, by attracting more of its kind, could help increase our stock of useful chickens. We soon reached the Wood of Monkeys, as we called it, where we had gathered our coconuts; and Fritz shared the amusing story of the trick with his mother and brothers. Ernest gazed up longingly at the coconuts, but there were no monkeys around to shake them down.

“Do they never fall from the trees?” and hardly had he spoken, when a large cocoa-nut fell at his feet, succeeded by a second, to my great astonishment, for I saw no animal in the tree, and I was convinced the nuts in the half-ripe state, as these were, could not fall of themselves.

“Do they ever fall from the trees?” Hardly had he said this when a large coconut dropped at his feet, followed by a second one. I was really surprised because I didn't see any animals in the tree, and I was sure the nuts, in this half-ripe state, couldn't fall on their own.

“It is exactly like a fairy tale,” said Ernest; “I had only to speak, and my wish was accomplished.”

“It’s just like a fairy tale,” said Ernest; “I just had to say it, and my wish was granted.”

“And here comes the magician,” said I, as, after a shower of nuts, I saw a huge land-crab descending the tree quietly, and quite regardless of our presence. Jack boldly struck a blow at him, but missed, and the animal, opening its enormous claws, made up to its opponent, who fled in terror. But the laughter of his brothers made him ashamed, and recalling his courage, he pulled off his coat, and threw it over the back of the crab; this checked its movements, and going to his assistance, I killed it with a blow of my hatchet.

“And here comes the magician,” I said, as, after a shower of nuts, I saw a huge land crab quietly climbing down the tree, completely unaware of us. Jack bravely swung at it but missed, and the creature, opening its enormous claws, advanced toward him, making him run away in fear. But the laughter of his brothers made him feel embarrassed, and regaining his courage, he took off his coat and threw it over the back of the crab; this slowed it down, and when I came to help him, I killed it with a blow from my hatchet.

They all crowded round the frightful animal, anxious to know what it was. I told them it was a land-crab—which we might call the cocoa-nut crab, as we owed such a store to it. Being unable to break the shell of the nut, of which they are very fond, they climb the tree, and break them off, in the unripe state. They then descend to enjoy their feast, which they obtain by inserting their claw through the small holes in the end, and abstracting the contents. They sometimes find them broken by the fall, when they can eat them at pleasure.

They all gathered around the scary animal, eager to find out what it was. I told them it was a land crab—which we could call the coconut crab, since we owe a lot to it. Unable to crack open the shell of the nut, which they really like, they climb the tree and break them off while they're still unripe. Then they go down to enjoy their feast, which they get by inserting their claw through the small holes at the end and pulling out the insides. Sometimes they find the nuts broken from the fall, allowing them to eat them whenever they want.

The hideousness of the animal, and the mingled terror and bravery of Jack, gave us subject of conversation for some time. We placed our booty on the sledge, and continued to go on through the wood. Our path became every instant more intricate, from the amazing quantity of creeping plants which choked the way, and obliged us to use the axe continually. The heat was excessive, and we got on slowly, when Ernest, always observing, and who was a little behind us, cried out, “Halt! a new and important discovery!” We returned, and he showed us, that from the stalk of one of the creepers we had cut with our axe, there was issuing clear, pure water. It was the liane rouge, which, in America, furnishes the hunter such a precious resource against thirst. Ernest was much pleased; he filled a cocoa-nut cup with the water, which flowed from the cut stalks like a fountain, and carried it to his mother, assuring her she might drink fearlessly; and we all had the comfort of allaying our thirst, and blessing the Gracious Hand who has placed this refreshing plant in the midst of the dry wilderness for the benefit of man.

The ugliness of the animal and the mix of fear and bravery in Jack gave us something to talk about for a while. We loaded our haul onto the sledge and kept moving through the woods. Our path got more complicated with every step because of the overwhelming number of creeping plants blocking our way, forcing us to use the axe constantly. The heat was intense, and we were making slow progress when Ernest, always observant and slightly behind us, shouted, “Stop! I’ve made a new and important discovery!” We turned back, and he showed us that from the stem of one of the vines we had chopped with our axe, clear, pure water was flowing. It was the liane rouge, which provides a precious source of hydration for hunters in America. Ernest was thrilled; he filled a coconut cup with the water that flowed from the cut stems like a fountain and brought it to his mother, assuring her that she could drink it safely. We all enjoyed quenching our thirst and gave thanks to the Gracious Hand that placed this refreshing plant in the middle of the dry wilderness for people's benefit.


“Suddenly we saw Ernest running to us, in great terror, crying, ‘A wild boar, papa! a great wild boar!’”


“Suddenly we saw Ernest running toward us, terrified, yelling, ‘Dad, a wild boar! A huge wild boar!’”

We now marched on with more vigour, and soon arrived at the Gourd Wood, where my wife and younger sons beheld with wonder the growth of this remarkable fruit. Fritz repeated all the history of our former attempts, and cut some gourds to make his mother some egg-baskets, and a large spoon to cream the milk. But we first sat down under the shade, and took some refreshment; and afterwards, while we all worked at making baskets, bowls, and flasks, Ernest, who had no taste for such labour, explored the wood. Suddenly we saw him running to us, in great terror, crying, “A wild boar! Papa; a great wild boar!” Fritz and I seized our guns, and ran to the spot he pointed out, the dogs preceding us. We soon heard barking and loud grunting, which proved the combat had begun, and, hoping for a good prize, we hastened forward; when, what was our vexation, when we found the dogs holding by the ears, not a wild boar, but our own great sow, whose wild and intractable disposition had induced her to leave us, and live in the woods! We could not but laugh at our disappointment, after a while, and I made the dogs release the poor sow, who immediately resumed her feast on a small fruit, which had fallen from the trees, and, scattered on the ground, had evidently tempted the voracious beast to this part. I took up one of these apples, which somewhat resembled a medlar, and opening it, found the contents of a rich and juicy nature, but did not venture to taste it till we had put it to the usual test. We collected a quantity—I even broke a loaded branch from the tree, and we returned to our party. Master Knips no sooner saw them than he seized on some, and crunched them up with great enjoyment. This satisfied me that the fruit was wholesome, and we regaled ourselves with some. My wife was especially delighted when I told her this must be the guava, from which the delicious jelly is obtained, so much prized in America.

We marched on with more energy and quickly reached the Gourd Wood, where my wife and younger sons marveled at the growth of this amazing fruit. Fritz shared all the stories of our earlier attempts, cutting some gourds to make his mother egg-baskets and a big spoon for cream. But first, we sat down in the shade and had a snack; then, while we all worked on making baskets, bowls, and flasks, Ernest, who wasn't interested in that kind of work, explored the woods. Suddenly, we saw him running towards us, terrified, shouting, “A wild boar! Dad, a huge wild boar!” Fritz and I grabbed our guns and rushed to the spot he indicated, with the dogs leading the way. We quickly heard barking and loud grunting, which showed that a fight had started, and hoping for a big catch, we hurried forward. To our frustration, we discovered that the dogs had a firm hold, not on a wild boar, but on our own large sow, whose wild and stubborn nature had led her to wander off and live in the woods! After a bit, we couldn't help but laugh at our disappointment, and I made the dogs let go of the poor sow, who immediately went back to munching on some small fruit that had fallen from the trees and was scattered on the ground, clearly luring the hungry animal. I picked up one of these apples, which looked a bit like a medlar, and when I opened it, I found it to be rich and juicy but didn’t taste it until we conducted the usual check. We gathered quite a few—I even broke a loaded branch off the tree—and returned to our group. As soon as Master Knips saw them, he grabbed some and happily crunched them up. This made me confident that the fruit was safe to eat, and we treated ourselves to some. My wife was especially thrilled when I told her this must be the guava, which is used to make the delicious jelly that is highly valued in America.

“But, with all this,” said Fritz, “we have a poor show of game. Do let us leave mamma with the young ones, and set off, to see what we can meet with.”

“But with all this,” said Fritz, “we don't have much game. Let's leave Mom with the kids and head out to see what we can find.”

I consented, and we left Ernest with his mother and Francis, Jack wishing to accompany us. We made towards the rocks at the right hand, and Jack preceded us a little, when he startled us by crying out, “A crocodile, papa!—a crocodile!”

I agreed, and we left Ernest with his mom and Francis, while Jack wanted to come with us. We headed towards the rocks on the right side, and Jack went ahead a bit when he surprised us by shouting, “A crocodile, Dad!—a crocodile!”

“You simpleton!” said I, “a crocodile in a place where there is not a drop of water!”

“You fool!” I said, “a crocodile in a place where there isn't a drop of water!”

“Papa!—I see it!” said the poor child, his eyes fixed on one spot; “it is there, on this rock, sleeping. I am sure it is a crocodile!”

“Dad!—I see it!” said the poor child, his eyes locked on one spot; “it’s there, on this rock, sleeping. I’m sure it’s a crocodile!”

As soon as I was near enough to distinguish it, I assured him his crocodile was a very harmless lizard, called the iguana, whose eggs and flesh were excellent food. Fritz would immediately have shot at this frightful creature, which was about five feet in length. I showed him that his scaly coat rendered such an attempt useless. I then cut a strong stick and a light wand. To the end of the former I attached a cord with a noose; this I held in my right hand, keeping the wand in my left. I approached softly, whistling. The animal awoke, apparently listening with pleasure. I drew nearer, tickling him gently with the wand. He lifted up his head, and opened his formidable jaws. I then dexterously threw the noose round his neck, drew it, and, jumping on his back, by the aid of my sons, held him down, though he succeeded in giving Jack a desperate blow with his tail. Then, plunging my wand up his nostrils, a few drops of blood came, and he died apparently without pain.

As soon as I got close enough to see it clearly, I assured him that his crocodile was actually a very harmless lizard called the iguana, whose eggs and meat were excellent to eat. Fritz was ready to shoot at this scary creature, which was about five feet long. I showed him that its scaly skin made such an attempt pointless. Then I cut a strong stick and a light wand. I attached a cord with a noose to one end of the stick; I held this in my right hand while keeping the wand in my left. I approached quietly, whistling. The animal woke up, seemingly enjoying the sound. I got closer, tickling it gently with the wand. It lifted its head and opened its huge jaws. I quickly threw the noose around its neck, tightened it, and jumped on its back. With my sons' help, I held it down, even though it managed to strike Jack hard with its tail. Then, I pushed my wand up its nostrils, and a few drops of blood came out, and it died appearing to feel no pain.

We now carried off our game. I took him on my back, holding him by the fore-claws, while my boys carried the tail behind me; and, with shouts of laughter, the procession returned to the sledge.

We now took our game with us. I had him on my back, grabbing him by the front claws, while my friends carried the tail behind me; and, with laughter ringing out, we made our way back to the sled.

Poor little Francis was in great dismay when he saw the terrible monster we brought, and began to cry; but we rallied him out of his cowardice, and his mother, satisfied with our exploits, begged to return home. As the sledge was heavily laden, we decided to leave it till the next day, placing on the ass, the iguana, the crab, our gourd vessels, and a bag of the guavas, little Francis being also mounted. The bustard we loosed, and, securing it by a string tied to one of its legs, led it with us.

Poor little Francis was really upset when he saw the awful monster we brought and started crying; but we encouraged him to be brave, and his mother, pleased with our adventures, asked to go home. Since the sled was heavily loaded, we decided to leave it for the next day, putting the iguana, the crab, our gourd containers, and a bag of guavas on the donkey, with little Francis also riding along. We let the bustard loose and tied a string to one of its legs to lead it with us.

We arrived at home in good time. My wife prepared part of the iguana for supper, which was pronounced excellent. The crab was rejected as tough and tasteless. Our new utensils were then tried, the egg-baskets and the milk-bowls, and Fritz was charged to dig a hole in the earth, to be covered with boards, and serve as a dairy, till something better was thought of. Finally, we ascended our leafy abode, and slept in peace.

We got home on time. My wife cooked some iguana for dinner, which everyone agreed was great. The crab, on the other hand, was deemed tough and flavorless. We tried out our new utensils—the egg baskets and milk bowls—and had Fritz dig a hole in the ground to be covered with boards, which would serve as a makeshift dairy until we could come up with a better solution. Finally, we went up to our leafy home and slept peacefully.


CHAPTER XXII.

I projected an excursion with my eldest son, to explore the limits of our country, and satisfy ourselves that it was an island, and not a part of the continent. We set out, ostensibly, to bring the sledge we had left the previous evening. I took Turk and the ass with us, and left Flora with my wife and children, and, with a bag of provisions, we left Falcon’s Nest as soon as breakfast was over.

I planned a trip with my oldest son to check out the boundaries of our country and confirm that it was an island and not part of the mainland. We headed out, supposedly to retrieve the sled we had left the night before. I took Turk and the donkey with me and left Flora with my wife and kids. After finishing breakfast, we left Falcon’s Nest with a bag of supplies.

In crossing a wood of oaks, covered with the sweet, eatable acorn, we again met with the sow; our service to her in the evening did not seem to be forgotten, for she appeared tamer, and did not run from us. A little farther on, we saw some beautiful birds. Fritz shot some, among which I recognized the large blue Virginian jay, and some different kinds of parrots. As he was reloading his gun, we heard at a distance a singular noise, like a muffled drum, mingled with the sound made in sharpening a saw. It might be savages; and we plunged into a thicket, and there discovered the cause of the noise in a brilliant green bird, seated on the withered trunk of a tree. It spread its wings and tail, and strutted about with strange contortions, to the great delight of its mates, who seemed lost in admiration of him. At the same time, he made the sharp cry we heard, and, striking his wing against the tree, produced the drum-like sound. I knew this to be the ruffed grouse, one of the greatest ornaments of the forests of America. My insatiable hunter soon put an end to the scene; he fired at the bird, who fell dead, and his crowd of admirers, with piercing cries, took to flight.

As we crossed a grove of oak trees filled with sweet, edible acorns, we encountered the sow again; it seemed our evening service had not been forgotten, as she appeared tamer and didn't run away from us. A little further ahead, we spotted some beautiful birds. Fritz shot a few, including the large blue Virginian jay and several different types of parrots. While he was reloading his gun, we heard a strange noise in the distance, like a muted drum combined with the sound of sharpening a saw. It might have been made by savages, so we hurried into a thicket and discovered the source of the noise: a striking green bird perched on a dead tree trunk. It spread its wings and tail, prancing around with unusual movements, much to the delight of its companions, who seemed captivated by it. At the same time, it emitted the sharp cry we had heard and, by striking its wing against the tree, created the drum-like sound. I recognized this as the ruffed grouse, one of the most beautiful birds in America's forests. My ever-hungry hunter quickly ended the display; he fired at the bird, which fell dead, and its admirers took flight with loud cries.

I reprimanded my son for so rashly killing everything we met with without consideration, and for the mere love of destruction. He seemed sensible of his error, and, as the thing was done, I thought it as well to make the best of it, and sent him to pick up his game.

I scolded my son for thoughtlessly killing everything we came across just for the sake of destruction. He seemed aware of his mistake, and since it was already done, I figured it was better to make the most of it and told him to gather his catch.

“What a creature!” said he, as he brought it; “how it would have figured in our poultry-yard, if I had not been in such a hurry.”

“What a creature!” he exclaimed as he brought it in; “imagine how it would have looked in our chicken coop if I hadn’t been in such a hurry.”

We went on to our sledge in the Gourd Wood, and, as the morning was not far advanced, we determined to leave all here, and proceed in our projected excursion beyond the chain of rocks. But we took the ass with us to carry our provisions, and any game or other object we should meet with in the new country we hoped to penetrate. Amongst gigantic trees, and through grass of a prodigious height, we travelled with some labour, looking right and left to avoid danger, or to make discoveries. Turk walked the first, smelling the air; then came the donkey, with his grave and careless step; and we followed, with our guns in readiness. We met with plains of potatoes and of manioc, amongst the stalks of which were sporting tribes of agoutis; but we were not tempted by such game.

We headed to our sled in Gourd Wood, and since it was still early in the morning, we decided to leave everything behind and continue with our planned adventure beyond the rocky chain. We took the donkey with us to carry our supplies and any game or other things we might find in the new area we were about to explore. Among massive trees and through grass that was incredibly tall, we made our way with some effort, carefully looking around to avoid danger or make discoveries. Turk led the way, sniffing the air; then came the donkey, moving with his serious and relaxed pace; and we followed, guns ready. We encountered fields of potatoes and manioc, where groups of agoutis were playing, but we weren’t tempted to go after that kind of game.

We now met with a new kind of bush covered with small white berries about the size of a pea. On pressing these berries, which adhered to my fingers, I discovered that this plant was the Myrica cerifera, or candle-berry myrtle, from which a wax is obtained that may be made into candles. With great pleasure I gathered a bag of these berries, knowing how my wife would appreciate this acquisition; for she often lamented that we were compelled to go to bed with the birds, as soon as the sun set.

We came across a new type of bush covered with small white berries about the size of a pea. When I pressed these berries, which stuck to my fingers, I realized that this plant was the Myrica cerifera, or candle-berry myrtle, from which wax can be extracted to make candles. I was excited to collect a bag of these berries, knowing that my wife would really appreciate this find; she often complained that we had to go to bed with the birds as soon as the sun went down.

We forgot our fatigue, as we proceeded, in contemplation of the wonders of nature, flowers of marvellous beauty, butterflies of more dazzling colours than the flowers, and birds graceful in form, and brilliant in plumage. Fritz climbed a tree, and succeeded in securing a young green parrot, which he enveloped in his handkerchief, with the intention of bringing it up, and teaching it to speak. And now we met with another wonder: a number of birds who lived in a community, in nests, sheltered by a common roof, in the formation of which they had probably laboured jointly. This roof was composed of straw and dry sticks, plastered with clay, which rendered it equally impenetrable to sun or rain. Pressed as we were for time, I could not help stopping to admire this feathered colony. This leading us to speak of natural history, as it relates to animals who live in societies, we recalled in succession the ingenious labours of the beavers and the marmots; the not less marvellous constructions of the bees, the wasps, and the ants; and I mentioned particularly those immense ant-hills of America, of which the masonry is finished with such skill and solidity that they are sometimes used for ovens, to which they bear a resemblance.

We forgot our tiredness as we continued on, lost in the beauty of nature—flowers with incredible colors, butterflies even more vibrant than the flowers, and birds that were both graceful and brilliantly colored. Fritz climbed a tree and managed to catch a young green parrot, which he wrapped in his handkerchief, planning to raise it and teach it to talk. Then we came across another wonder: a group of birds living together in nests under a communal roof, likely built by them all working together. This roof was made of straw and dry sticks, sealed with clay, making it resistant to both the sun and rain. Even though we were pressed for time, I couldn’t help but stop to admire this feathered community. Discussing natural history about animals that live in societies, we remembered the clever work of beavers and marmots; the amazing structures built by bees, wasps, and ants; and I specifically mentioned the huge ant hills in America, which are constructed so expertly and solidly that they’re sometimes used as ovens because of their resemblance to one.

We had now reached some trees quite unknown to us. They were from forty to sixty feet in height, and from the bark, which was cracked in many places, issued small balls of a thick gum. Fritz got one off with difficulty, it was so hardened by the sun. He wished to soften it with his hands, but found that heat only gave it the power of extension, and that by pulling the two extremities, and then releasing them, it immediately resumed its first form.

We had now come upon some trees we had never seen before. They were about forty to sixty feet tall, and from the bark, which was cracked in many spots, oozed small balls of thick gum. Fritz managed to get one off, but it was tough because it had hardened in the sun. He tried to soften it with his hands, but found that heat only made it stretch, and when he pulled the two ends and then let go, it immediately returned to its original shape.

Fritz ran to me, crying out, “I have found some India-rubber!”

Fritz ran up to me, shouting, “I’ve found some rubber!”

“If that be true,” said I, “you have made a most valuable discovery.”

“If that's true,” I said, “you've made a really valuable discovery.”

He thought I was laughing at him, for we had no drawing to rub out here.

He thought I was making fun of him, since we had no drawing to erase here.

I told him this gum might be turned to many useful purposes; among the rest we might make excellent shoes of it. This interested him. How could we accomplish this?

I told him this gum could be used for many useful things; for one, we could make great shoes out of it. This caught his interest. How could we pull this off?

“The caoutchouc,” said I, “is the milky sap which is obtained from certain trees of the Euphorbium kind, by incisions made in the bark. It is collected in vessels, care being taken to agitate them, that the liquid may not coagulate. In this state they cover little clay bottles with successive layers of it, till it attains the required thickness. It is then dried in smoke, which gives it the dark brown colour. Before it is quite dry, it is ornamented by lines and flowers drawn with the knife. Finally, they break the clay form, and extract it from the mouth; and there remains the India-rubber bottle of commerce, soft and flexible. Now, this is my plan for shoemaking; we will fill a stocking with sand, cover it with repeated layers of the gum till it is of the proper thickness; then empty out the sand, and, if I do not deceive myself, we shall have perfect boots or shoes.”

“The caoutchouc,” I said, “is the milky sap that comes from certain trees of the Euphorbium kind, collected by making cuts in the bark. It's gathered in containers, and they make sure to stir it so it doesn’t thicken. At this stage, they coat small clay bottles with several layers of it until it reaches the desired thickness. Then, it’s dried in smoke, which gives it a dark brown color. Before it’s completely dry, they decorate it with lines and flowers using a knife. Finally, they break the clay mold and pull it out from the opening, leaving behind the soft and flexible rubber bottle that’s used in commerce. Now, here’s my plan for making shoes; we’ll fill a stocking with sand, cover it with several layers of the gum until it’s thick enough; then we’ll pour out the sand, and if I’m not mistaken, we’ll have perfect boots or shoes.”

Comfortable in the hope of new boots, we advanced through an interminable forest of various trees. The monkeys on the cocoa-nut trees furnished us with pleasant refreshment, and a small store of nuts besides. Among these trees I saw some lower bushes, whose leaves were covered with a white dust. I opened the trunk of one of these, which had been torn up by the wind, and found in the interior a white farinaceous substance, which, on tasting, I knew to be the sago imported into Europe. This, as connected with our subsistence, was a most important affair, and my son and I, with our hatchets, laid open the tree, and obtained from it twenty-five pounds of the valuable sago.

Comfortable with the prospect of new boots, we made our way through an endless forest filled with different types of trees. The monkeys in the coconut trees provided us with some nice snacks and a small supply of nuts as well. Among these trees, I noticed some low bushes with leaves covered in white dust. I opened the trunk of one of these, which had been uprooted by the wind, and found a white, powdery substance inside. After tasting it, I realized it was the sago that had been brought to Europe. This was incredibly important for our survival, so my son and I, with our hatchets, opened up the tree and extracted twenty-five pounds of valuable sago.

This occupied us an hour; and, weary and hungry, I thought it prudent not to push our discoveries farther this day. We therefore returned to the Gourd Wood, placed all our treasures on the sledge, and took our way home. We arrived without more adventures, and were warmly greeted, and our various offerings gratefully welcomed, especially the green parrot. We talked of the caoutchouc, and new boots, with great delight during supper; and, afterwards, my wife looked with exceeding content at her bag of candle-berries, anticipating the time when we should not have to go to bed, as we did now, as soon as the sun set.

This kept us busy for an hour; and, tired and hungry, I thought it wise not to continue our discoveries any further that day. So, we headed back to the Gourd Wood, loaded all our treasures onto the sledge, and made our way home. We arrived without any more adventures and were warmly welcomed, with our various offerings appreciated, especially the green parrot. We excitedly talked about the rubber and new boots during dinner; and afterwards, my wife looked very content with her bag of candle-berries, looking forward to when we wouldn’t have to go to bed, like we do now, as soon as the sun sets.


CHAPTER XXIII.

The next morning my wife and children besought me to begin my manufacture of candles. I remembered having seen the chandler at work, and I tried to recall all my remembrances of the process. I put into a boiler as many berries as it would hold, and placed it over a moderate fire: the wax melted from the berries, and rose to the surface, and this I carefully skimmed with a large flat spoon and put in a separate vessel placed near the fire; when this was done, my wife supplied me with some wicks she had made from the threads of sailcloth; these wicks were attached, four at a time, to a small stick; I dipped them into the wax, and placed them on two branches of a tree to dry; I repeated this operation as often as necessary to make them the proper thickness, and then placed them in a cool spot to harden. But we could not forbear trying them that very night; and, thought somewhat rude in form, it was sufficient that they reminded us of our European home, and prolonged our days by many useful hours we had lost before.

The next morning, my wife and kids urged me to start making candles. I remembered seeing the candle maker at work and tried to recall everything about the process. I filled a boiler with as many berries as it could hold and set it over a gentle fire: the wax melted from the berries and floated to the top, which I carefully skimmed off with a large flat spoon and poured into a separate container next to the fire. Once that was done, my wife gave me some wicks she had made from sailcloth threads; these wicks were attached four at a time to a small stick. I dipped them in the wax and hung them on two tree branches to dry. I repeated this process as many times as needed to achieve the right thickness, then set them in a cool place to harden. However, we couldn’t resist trying them out that very night, and even though they were a bit rough in shape, it was enough that they reminded us of our European home and added many useful hours to our days that we had previously lost.

This encouraged me to attempt another enterprise. My wife had long regretted that she had not been able to make butter. She had attempted to beat her cream in a vessel, but either the heat of the climate, or her want of patience, rendered her trials unsuccessful. I felt that I had not skill enough to make a churn; but I fancied that by some simple method, like that used by the Hottentots, who put their cream in a skin and shake it till they produce butter, we might obtain the same result. I cut a large gourd in two, filled it with three quarts of cream, then united the parts, and secured them closely. I fastened a stick to each corner of a square piece of sailcloth, placed the gourd in the middle, and, giving a corner to each of my sons, directed them to rock the cloth with a slow, regular motion, as you would a child’s cradle. This was quite an amusement for them; and at the end of an hour, my wife had the pleasure of placing before us some excellent butter. I then tried to make a cart, our sledge being unfitted for some roads; the wheels I had brought from the wreck rendered this less difficult; and I completed a very rude vehicle, which was, nevertheless, very useful to us.

This inspired me to try another project. My wife had always wished she could make butter. She had tried to whip her cream in a container, but either due to the heat or her lack of patience, her attempts were unsuccessful. I didn’t think I had the skills to build a churn, but I thought that maybe we could use a simple method similar to what the Hottentots do, who put their cream in a skin and shake it until they make butter. I cut a large gourd in half, filled it with three quarts of cream, then joined the halves together and sealed them tightly. I attached a stick to each corner of a square piece of sailcloth, placed the gourd in the center, and asked each of my sons to hold a corner, directing them to rock the cloth gently and steadily, just like rocking a baby’s cradle. They found it quite entertaining, and after about an hour, my wife was delighted to serve us some excellent butter. I then attempted to make a cart since our sled was not suitable for some roads; the wheels I had salvaged from the wreck made this easier, and I built a very basic vehicle that was still quite useful to us.

While I was thus usefully employed, my wife and children were not idle. They had transplanted the European trees, and thoughtfully placed each in the situation best suited to it. I assisted with my hands and counsels. The vines we planted round the roots of our trees, and hoped in time to form a trellis-work. Of the chesnut, walnut, and cherry-trees, we formed an avenue from Falcon’s Nest to Family Bridge, which, we hoped, would ultimately be a shady road between our two mansions. We made a solid road between the two rows of trees, raised in the middle and covered with sand, which we brought from the shore in our wheelbarrows. I also made a sort of tumbril, to which we harnessed the ass, to lighten this difficult labour.

While I was busy with my work, my wife and kids were keeping themselves occupied too. They had moved the European trees and carefully placed each one in the best spot for it. I helped out with my hands and advice. We planted vines around the bases of our trees, hoping that someday they would create a trellis. From the chestnut, walnut, and cherry trees, we created an avenue from Falcon’s Nest to Family Bridge, which we envisioned would eventually become a shaded path between our two homes. We built a solid road between the two rows of trees, elevated in the middle and covered with sand that we transported from the shore in our wheelbarrows. I even made a kind of cart, which we harnessed the donkey to, to make this tough work a bit easier.

We then turned our thoughts to Tent House, our first abode, and which still might form our refuge in case of danger. Nature had not favoured it; but our labour soon supplied all deficiencies. We planted round it every tree that requires ardent heat; the citron, pistachio, the almond, the mulberry, the Siamese orange, of which the fruit is as large as the head of a child, and the Indian fig, with its long prickly leaves, all had a place here. These plantations succeeding admirably, we had, after some time, the pleasure of seeing the dry and sandy desert converted into a shady grove, rich in flowers and fruit. As this place was the magazine for our arms, ammunition, and provisions of all sorts; we made a sort of fortress of it, surrounding it with a high hedge of strong, thorny trees; so that not only to wild beasts, but even to human enemies, it was inaccessible. Our bridge was the only point of approach, and we always carefully removed the first planks after crossing it. We also placed our two cannon on a little elevation within the enclosure; and, finally, we planted some cedars, near our usual landing-place, to which we might, at a future time, fasten our vessels. These labours occupied us three months, only interrupted by a strict attention to the devotions and duties of the Sunday. I was most especially grateful to God for the robust health we all enjoyed, in the midst of our employments. All went on well in our little colony. We had an abundant and certain supply of provisions; but our wardrobe, notwithstanding the continual repairing my wife bestowed on it, was in a most wretched state, and we had no means of renewing it, except by again visiting the wreck, which I knew still contained some chests of clothes, and bales of cloth. This decided me to make another voyage; besides I was rather anxious to see the state of the vessel.

We then focused on Tent House, our first home, which could still serve as a safe haven in case of danger. Nature hadn’t been kind to it, but our hard work quickly fixed that. We planted every type of tree that thrives in heat around it: citron, pistachio, almond, mulberry, Siamese orange—which produces fruit as big as a child's head—and Indian fig, with its long prickly leaves, all found a spot here. These plantings thrived wonderfully, and after a while, we enjoyed watching the dry, sandy desert transform into a shady grove bursting with flowers and fruit. Since this place stored our weapons, ammunition, and various supplies, we turned it into a kind of fortress, surrounding it with a tall hedge of strong, thorny trees, making it inaccessible not only to wild animals but also to human threats. Our bridge was the only entry point, and we always carefully removed the first planks after crossing it. We also placed our two cannons on a small rise inside the enclosure and finally planted some cedars near our usual landing spot, which we might use in the future to dock our vessels. These tasks took us three months, only interrupted by our strict observance of Sunday prayers and duties. I was especially thankful to God for the good health we all enjoyed while we worked. Everything was going well in our little colony. We had a steady and plentiful supply of food; however, our clothes were in terrible condition, despite my wife constantly mending them, and we had no way to replace them except by returning to the wreck, which I knew still held some chestloads of clothes and bundles of fabric. This pushed me to plan another journey, and I was also eager to check on the state of the ship.

We found it much in the same condition we had left it, except being much more shattered by the winds and waves.

We found it in pretty much the same condition we had left it, except it was much more damaged by the winds and waves.

We selected many useful things for our cargo; the bales of linen and woollen cloth were not forgotten; some barrels of tar; and everything portable that we could remove; doors, windows, tables, benches, locks and bolts, all the ammunition, and even such of the guns as we could move. In fact we completely sacked the vessel; carrying off, after several days’ labour, all our booty, with the exception of some weighty articles, amongst which were three or four immense boilers, intended for a sugar-manufactory. These we tied to some large empty casks, which we pitched completely over, and hoped they would be able to float in the water.

We gathered a lot of useful items for our cargo; we made sure to include bales of linen and wool fabric; some barrels of tar; and everything else we could carry away—doors, windows, tables, benches, locks and bolts, all the ammunition, and even as many guns as we could transport. Essentially, we completely stripped the ship bare; after several days of hard work, we took all our loot, except for a few heavy items, including three or four massive boilers meant for a sugar factory. We tied these to some large empty barrels, which we flipped over, hoping they would float in the water.

When we had completed our arrangements, I resolved to blow up the ship. We placed a large barrel of gunpowder in the hold, and arranging a long match from it, which would burn some hours, we lighted it, and proceeded without delay to Safety Bay to watch the event. I proposed to my wife to sup on a point of land where we could distinctly see the vessel. Just as the sun was going down, a majestic rolling, like thunder, succeeded by a column of fire, announced the destruction of the vessel, which had brought us from Europe, and bestowed its great riches on us. We could not help shedding tears, as we heard the last mournful cry of this sole remaining bond that connected us with home. We returned sorrowfully to Tent House, and felt as if we had lost an old friend.

Once we had made our plans, I decided to blow up the ship. We put a large barrel of gunpowder in the hold, and set up a long fuse that would burn for several hours. We lit it and quickly went to Safety Bay to watch what would happen. I suggested to my wife that we have dinner on a piece of land where we could clearly see the ship. Just as the sun was setting, a booming sound, like thunder, followed by a column of fire, signaled the ship's destruction—the vessel that had brought us from Europe and given us so much. We couldn't help but cry as we heard the last, sorrowful sound of the only remaining link to our home. We returned to Tent House feeling sad, as if we had lost an old friend.

We rose early next morning, and hastened to the shore, which we found covered with the wreck, which, with a little exertion, we found it easy to collect. Amongst the rest, were the large boilers. We afterwards used these to cover our barrels of gunpowder, which we placed in a part of the rock, where, even if an explosion took place, no damage could ensue.

We got up early the next morning and rushed to the shore, where we found the wreckage. With a bit of effort, we easily gathered it up. Among other things, there were the large boilers. We later used these to cover our barrels of gunpowder, which we stored in a spot in the rock where, even if an explosion happened, no damage could occur.

My wife, in assisting us with the wreck, made the agreeable discovery, that two of our ducks, and one goose, had hatched each a brood, and were leading their noisy young families to the water. This reminded us of all our poultry and domestic comfort, at Falcon’s Nest, and we determined to defer, for some time, the rest of our work at Tent House, and to return the next day to our shady summer home.

My wife, while helping us with the mess, happily discovered that two of our ducks and one goose had each hatched a bunch of ducklings and goslings and were leading their loud little families to the water. This brought back memories of all our chickens and the cozy life we had at Falcon’s Nest, so we decided to put off the rest of our work at Tent House for a while and head back the next day to our cool summer home.


CHAPTER XXIV.

As we went along the avenue of fruit-trees, I was concerned to see my young plants beginning to droop, and I immediately resolved to proceed to Cape Disappointment the next morning, to cut bamboos to make props for them. It was determined we should all go, as, on our arrival at Falcon’s Nest, we discovered many other supplies wanting. The candles were failing: we must have more berries, for now my wife sewed by candlelight, while I wrote my journal. She wanted, also, some wild-fowls’ eggs to set under her hens. Jack wanted some guavas, and Francis wished for some sugar-canes. So we made a family tour of it, taking the cart, with the cow and ass, to contain our provision, and a large sailcloth, to make a tent. The weather was delightful, and we set out singing, in great spirits.

As we walked down the row of fruit trees, I noticed my young plants starting to droop, so I quickly decided to head to Cape Disappointment the next morning to cut some bamboos for props. We agreed that everyone should come along, since when we arrived at Falcon’s Nest, we found many other supplies were also needed. The candles were running low; we needed more berries because my wife was sewing by candlelight while I wrote in my journal. She also wanted some wild fowl eggs to put under her hens. Jack was looking for guavas, and Francis wanted some sugar canes. So, we made it a family outing, taking the cart along with the cow and donkey to carry our supplies, plus a large sailcloth to set up a tent. The weather was beautiful, and we set off singing, feeling great.

We crossed the potato and manioc plantations, and the wood of guavas, on which my boys feasted to their great satisfaction. The road was rugged, but we assisted to move the cart, and rested frequently. We stopped to see the bird colony, which greatly delighted them all, and Ernest declared they belonged to the species of Loxia gregaria, the sociable grosbeak. He pointed out to us their wonderful instinct in forming their colony in the midst of the candle-berry bushes, on which they feed. We filled two bags with these berries, and another with guavas, my wife proposing to make jelly from them.

We crossed the potato and manioc fields and the guava grove, where my boys happily feasted. The road was rough, but we helped move the cart and took breaks often. We stopped to check out the bird colony, which thrilled everyone, and Ernest said they were a type of Loxia gregaria, the sociable grosbeak. He pointed out their amazing instinct for building their colony among the candle-berry bushes, which they eat. We filled two bags with these berries and another with guavas, as my wife planned to make jelly from them.

We then proceeded to the caoutchouc-tree, and here I determined to rest awhile, to collect some of the valuable gum. I had brought some large gourd-shells with me for the purpose. I made incisions in the trees, and placed these bowls to receive the gum, which soon began to run out in a milky stream, and we hoped to find them filled on our return. We turned a little to the left, and entered a beautiful and fertile plain, bounded on one side by the sugar-canes, behind which rose a wood of palms, on the other by the bamboos; and before us was Cape Disappointment, backed by the ocean—a magnificent picture.

We then went to the rubber tree, and I decided to take a break to collect some of the valuable gum. I had brought some large gourd shells for this purpose. I made cuts in the tree and placed these bowls to catch the gum, which soon started to flow out in a milky stream. We hoped to find them full when we returned. We turned slightly to the left and entered a beautiful, fertile plain, bordered on one side by sugar cane, behind which rose a palm grove, and on the other side by bamboo; in front of us was Cape Disappointment, with the ocean behind it—a magnificent sight.

We at once decided to make this our resting-place; we even thought of transferring our residence from Falcon’s Nest to this spot; but we dismissed the thought, when we reflected on the perfect security of our dear castle in the air. We contented ourselves with arranging to make this always our station for refreshment in our excursions. We loosed our animals, and allowed them to graze on the rich grass around us. We arranged to spend the night here, and, taking a light repast, we separated on our several employments—some to cut sugar-canes, others bamboos, and, after stripping them, to make them into bundles, and place them in the cart. This hard work made the boys hungry; they refreshed themselves with sugar-canes, but had a great desire to have some cocoa-nuts. Unfortunately, there were neither monkeys nor crabs to bestow them, and the many attempts they made to climb the lofty, bare trunk of the palm ended only in disappointment and confusion. I went to their assistance. I gave them pieces of the rough skin of the shark, which I had brought for the purpose, to brace on their legs, and showing them how to climb, by the aid of a cord fastened round the tree with a running noose, a method practised with success by the savages, my little climbers soon reached the summit of the trees; they then used their hatchets, which they had carried up in their girdles, and a shower of cocoa-nuts fell down. These furnished a pleasant dessert, enlivened by the jests of Fritz and Jack, who, being the climbers, did not spare Doctor Ernest, who had contented himself with looking up at them; and even now, regardless of their banter, he was lost in some new idea. Rising suddenly, and looking at the palms, he took a cocoa-nut cup, and a tin flask with a handle, and gravely addressed us thus:—

We immediately decided to make this our resting place; we even considered moving our home from Falcon’s Nest to this location, but we discarded that idea when we thought about how safe our beloved castle in the air is. We settled on making this our go-to spot for refreshments during our outings. We let our animals loose and allowed them to graze on the lush grass around us. We planned to spend the night here, and after a light meal, we all split off to do our tasks—some went to cut sugar canes, others went for bamboo, and after stripping them, they made bundles and loaded them onto the cart. This hard work made the boys hungry; they snacked on sugar canes but really wanted some coconuts. Unfortunately, there were no monkeys or crabs around to help, and all their attempts to climb the tall, bare trunk of the palm ended in frustration and chaos. I went to help them. I gave them strips of the rough skin of the shark, which I had brought for this purpose, to wrap around their legs, and showed them how to climb using a cord tied around the tree with a running noose, a technique successfully used by the natives. My little climbers soon reached the tops of the trees; they then used their hatchets, which they had carried up in their belts, and a shower of coconuts came crashing down. This provided a delightful dessert, enhanced by the playful teasing from Fritz and Jack, who, as the climbers, didn’t hold back on Doctor Ernest, who had chosen to just watch from below; and even then, ignoring their jokes, he seemed lost in some new thought. Suddenly standing up and looking at the palms, he grabbed a coconut cup and a tin flask with a handle and addressed us seriously:

“Gentlemen and lady! this exercise of climbing is really very disagreeable and difficult; but since it confers so much honour on the undertakers, I should like also to attempt an adventure, hoping to do something at once glorious and agreeable to the company.”

“Gentlemen and lady! This climbing exercise is really quite uncomfortable and challenging; but since it brings so much honor to those who take it on, I would also like to try this adventure, hoping to achieve something both glorious and enjoyable for everyone.”

He then bound his legs with the pieces of shark’s skin, and with singular vigour and agility sprung up a palm which he had long been attentively examining. His brothers laughed loudly at his taking the trouble to ascend a tree that had not a single nut on it. Ernest took no notice of their ridicule, but, as soon as he reached the top, struck with his hatchet, and a tuft of tender yellow leaves fell at our feet, which I recognized as the product of the cabbage-palm, a delicate food, highly valued in America. His mother thought it a mischievous act, to destroy the tree thus; but he assured her his prize was worth many cocoa-nuts. But our hero did not descend; and I asked him if he wanted to replace the cabbage he had cut off?

He then tied his legs with pieces of shark skin and, with impressive strength and agility, jumped up a palm tree he had been closely observing. His brothers laughed loudly at him for bothering to climb a tree that had no nuts on it. Ernest ignored their teasing, but as soon as he reached the top, he chopped at it with his hatchet, and a bunch of tender yellow leaves fell at our feet, which I recognized as cabbage-palm leaves, a delicate food that is highly valued in America. His mother thought it was a naughty thing to destroy the tree like that, but he assured her that his find was worth many coconuts. However, our hero did not come back down, and I asked him if he wanted to replace the cabbage he had cut off.

“Wait a little,” said he; “I am bringing you some wine to drink my health; but it comes slower than I could wish.”

“Wait a minute,” he said; “I’m bringing you some wine to drink to my health; but it’s taking longer than I’d like.”

He now descended, holding his cocoa-cup, into which he poured from the flask a clear rose-coloured liquor, and, presenting it to me, begged me to drink. It was, indeed, the true palm-wine, which is as pleasant as champaign, and, taken moderately, a great restorative.

He now came down, holding his cocoa cup, into which he poured a clear pink liquid from the flask and, offering it to me, asked me to drink. It was, in fact, the real palm wine, which is as enjoyable as champagne and, when consumed in moderation, is a great pick-me-up.

We all drank; and Ernest was praised and thanked by all, till he forgot all the scoffs he had received.

We all drank, and everyone praised and thanked Ernest until he forgot all the mockery he had faced.

As it was getting late, we set about putting up our tent for the night, when suddenly our ass, who had been quietly grazing near us, began to bray furiously, erected his ears, kicking right and left, and, plunging into the bamboos, disappeared. This made us very uneasy. I could not submit to lose the useful animal; and, moreover, I was afraid his agitation announced the approach of some wild beast. The dogs and I sought for any trace of it in vain; I therefore, to guard against any danger, made a large fire before our tent, which I continued to watch till midnight, when, all being still, I crept into the tent, to my bed of moss, and slept undisturbed till morning.

As it was getting late, we started putting up our tent for the night when suddenly our donkey, who had been quietly grazing nearby, began to bray loudly, perked up his ears, kicked around, and dashed into the bushes, disappearing from sight. This made us really uneasy. I couldn't bear the thought of losing such a useful animal, and besides, I was worried that his panic meant a wild animal was nearby. The dogs and I searched for any signs of it but found nothing; so, to stay safe, I built a large fire in front of our tent and kept an eye on it until midnight. When everything was quiet, I crawled into the tent, got on my bed of moss, and slept soundly until morning.

In the morning we thanked God for our health and safety, and then began to lament our poor donkey, which, I hoped, might have been attracted by the light of our fire, and have returned; but we saw nothing of him, and we decided that his services were so indispensable, that I should go, with one of my sons, and the two dogs, in search of him, and cross the thickets of bamboo. I chose to take Jack with me, to his great satisfaction, for Fritz and Ernest formed a better guard for their mother in a strange place. We set out, well armed, with bags of provisions on our back, and after an hour’s fruitless search among the canes, We emerged beyond them, in an extensive plain on the borders of the great bay. We saw that the ridge of rocks still extended on the right till it nearly reached the shore, when it abruptly terminated in a perpendicular precipice. A considerable river flowed into the bay here, and between the river and the rock was a narrow passage, which at high water would be overflowed. We thought it most likely that our ass had passed by this defile; and I wished to see whether these rocks merely bordered or divided the island; we therefore went forward till we met with a stream, which fell in a cascade from a mass of rocks into the river. We ascended the stream till we found a place shallow enough to cross. Here we saw the shoe-marks of our ass, mingled with the footsteps of other animals, and at a distance we saw a herd of animals, but could not distinguish what they were. We ascended a little hill, and, through our telescope, saw a most beautiful and fertile country, breathing peace and repose. To our right rose the majestic chain of rocks that divided the island. On our left a succession of beautiful green hills spread to the horizon. Woods of palms and various unknown trees were scattered over the scene. The beautiful stream meandered across the valley like a silver ribbon, bordered by rushes and other aquatic plants. There was no trace of the footstep of man. The country had all the purity of its first creation; no living creatures but some beautiful birds and brilliant butterflies appeared.

In the morning, we thanked God for our health and safety, then started to worry about our poor donkey, hoping he might have been drawn to the light of our fire and returned. But we saw no sign of him, so we decided that we needed him back, and I should go with one of my sons and the two dogs to search for him and push through the bamboo thickets. I chose to take Jack with me, which made him very happy, since Fritz and Ernest were better suited to stay with their mother in this unfamiliar place. We set out, armed and with bags of supplies on our backs, and after an hour of searching through the canes without luck, we emerged into a wide plain at the edge of the big bay. We noticed that the ridge of rocks continued on our right nearly reaching the shore, before suddenly dropping off into a steep cliff. A significant river flowed into the bay here, and between the river and the rocks was a narrow passage that would be underwater at high tide. We thought it was likely our donkey had gone through this opening, so I wanted to see if the rocks were just along the side or if they divided the island. We moved forward until we found a stream that cascaded down from a mass of rocks into the river. We followed the stream until we found a shallow enough spot to cross. Here, we saw the hoof prints of our donkey mixed with tracks of other animals, and in the distance, we spotted a herd, but we couldn't tell what they were. We climbed a small hill and, using our telescope, glimpsed an incredibly beautiful and fertile land filled with peace and tranquility. To our right, a majestic chain of rocks rose, dividing the island. On our left, a series of lovely green hills stretched to the horizon. Palm trees and various unfamiliar types of trees were scattered throughout the landscape. A stunning stream wound through the valley like a silver ribbon, lined with reeds and other aquatic plants. There were no signs of human presence. The land retained all the purity of its original creation; the only living things were some beautiful birds and vibrant butterflies.

But, at a distance, we saw some specks, which I concluded were the animals we had first seen, and I resolved to go nearer, in hopes our ass might have joined them. We made towards the spot, and, to shorten the road, crossed a little wood of bamboos, the stalks of which, as thick as a man’s thigh, rose to the height of thirty feet. I suspected this to be the giant reed of America, so useful for the masts of boats and canoes. I promised Jack to allow him to cut some on our return; but at present the ass was my sole care. When we had crossed the wood, we suddenly came face to face on a herd of buffaloes, not numerous certainly, but formidable in appearance. At the sight, I was absolutely petrified, and my gun useless. Fortunately the dogs were in the rear, and the animals, lifting their heads, and fixing their large eyes on us, seemed more astonished than angry—we were the first men probably they had ever seen.

But from a distance, we spotted some figures, which I figured were the animals we had seen earlier, and I decided to get closer, hoping our donkey might have joined them. We headed toward that spot, and to make the journey shorter, we crossed a small bamboo grove, the stalks of which were as thick as a person's thigh and reached up to thirty feet high. I suspected this was the giant reed from America, which is very useful for making masts for boats and canoes. I promised Jack he could cut some on our way back, but for now, the donkey was my main concern. Once we crossed the grove, we unexpectedly came face to face with a herd of buffaloes, not numerous, but definitely intimidating. At that moment, I was completely frozen, and my gun was useless. Luckily, the dogs were behind us, and the animals, lifting their heads and staring at us with their large eyes, appeared more surprised than angry—we were probably the first humans they had ever encountered.

We drew back a little, prepared our arms, and endeavoured to retreat, when the dogs arrived, and, notwithstanding our efforts to restrain them, flew at the buffaloes. It was no time now to retreat; the combat was begun. The whole troop uttered the most frightful roars, beat the ground with their feet, and butted with their horns. Our brave dogs were not intimidated, but marched straight upon the enemy, and, falling on a young buffalo that had strayed before the rest, seized it by the ears. The creature began to bellow, and struggle to escape; its mother ran to its assistance, and, with her, the whole herd. At that moment,—I tremble as I write it, I gave the signal to my brave Jack, who behaved with admirable coolness, and at the same moment we fired on the herd. The effect was wonderful: they paused a moment, and then, even before the smoke was dissipated, took to flight with incredible rapidity, forded the river, and were soon out of sight. My dogs still held their prize, and the mother, though wounded by our shot, tore up the ground in her fury, and was advancing on the dogs to destroy them; but I stepped forward, and discharging a pistol between the horns, put an end to her life.

We stepped back a bit, readied our weapons, and tried to retreat when the dogs showed up, and despite our attempts to hold them back, they charged at the buffaloes. There was no time to back down now; the fight had started. The whole group let out terrifying roars, stomped their feet, and butted with their horns. Our brave dogs weren't scared; they marched right at the enemy and attacked a young buffalo that had wandered away from the rest, grabbing it by the ears. The young buffalo let out a bellow and struggled to get free; its mother rushed to help, along with the entire herd. At that moment—I shudder as I write this—I signaled to my brave Jack, who stayed remarkably calm, and at the same time, we shot at the herd. The effect was amazing: they hesitated for a moment, and then, even before the smoke cleared, they bolted away with incredible speed, crossed the river, and quickly disappeared from view. My dogs still held onto their catch, and the mother, though injured by our shot, furiously tore up the ground and charged at the dogs to attack them; but I stepped in and fired a pistol between her horns, taking her down.

We began to breathe. We had looked death in the face,—a most horrible death; and thanked God for our preservation. I praised Jack for his courage and presence of mind; any fear or agitation on his part would have unnerved me, and rendered our fate certain. The dogs still held the young calf by the ears, it bellowed incessantly, and I feared they would either be injured or lose their prize. I went up to their assistance. I hardly knew how to act. I could easily have killed it; but I had a great desire to carry it off alive, and try to tame it, to replace our ass, whom I did not intend to follow farther. A happy idea struck Jack: he always carried his lasso in his pocket; he drew it out, retired a little, and flung it so dexterously that he completely wound it round the hind legs of the calf, and threw it down. I now approached; I replaced the lasso by a stronger cord, and used another to bind his fore legs loosely. Jack cried victory, and already thought how his mother and brothers would be delighted, when we presented it; but that was no easy matter. At last I thought of the method used in Italy to tame the wild bulls, and I resolved to try it, though it was a little cruel.

We finally started to breathe again. We had confronted death—a truly terrifying death—and thanked God for keeping us safe. I praised Jack for his bravery and quick thinking; any signs of fear or anxiety from him would have thrown me off and sealed our fate. The dogs were still holding the young calf by its ears, which was bellowing non-stop, and I worried they might get hurt or lose their catch. I went over to help them. I wasn’t sure what to do. I could have easily killed the calf, but I really wanted to take it alive and try to train it to replace our donkey, which I didn’t plan to follow any further. Jack had a great idea: he always kept his lasso in his pocket. He pulled it out, stepped back a bit, and threw it so skillfully that it wrapped around the calf’s hind legs and took it down. I moved in closer, switched the lasso for a stronger rope, and loosely tied its front legs together. Jack cheered, already imagining how excited his mom and brothers would be when we brought it to them; but that wasn’t going to be easy. Finally, I remembered a technique used in Italy to tame wild bulls, and I decided to give it a shot, even though it was a bit harsh.

I began by tying to the foot of a tree the cords that held the legs; then making the dogs seize him again by the ears, I caught hold of his mouth, and with a sharp knife perforated the nostril, and quickly passed a cord through the opening. This cord was to serve as my rein, to guide the animal. The operation was successful; and, as soon as the blood ceased to flow, I took the cord, uniting the two ends, and the poor suffering creature, completely subdued, followed me without resistance.

I started by tying the cords that secured his legs to the base of a tree. Then, after getting the dogs to grab him by the ears again, I held his mouth open and quickly used a sharp knife to pierce his nostril and passed a cord through the hole. This cord would act as my rein to direct the animal. The procedure worked; once the bleeding stopped, I tied the two ends of the cord together, and the poor, suffering creature, fully subdued, followed me without putting up a fight.

I was unwilling to abandon the whole of the buffalo I had killed, as it is excellent meat; I therefore cut out the tongue, and some of the best parts from the loin, and covered them well with salt, of which we had taken a provision with us. I then carefully skinned the four legs, remembering that the American hunters use these skins for boots, being remarkably soft and flexible. We permitted the dogs to feast on the remainder; and while they were enjoying themselves, we washed ourselves, and sat down under a tree to rest and refresh ourselves. But the poor beasts had soon many guests at their banquet. Clouds of birds of prey came from every part; an incessant combat was kept up; no sooner was one troop of brigands satisfied, than another succeeded; and soon all that remained of the poor buffalo was the bones. I noticed amongst these ravenous birds the royal vulture, an elegant bird, remarkable for a brilliant collar of down. We could easily have killed some of these robbers, but I thought it useless to destroy for mere curiosity, and I preferred employing our time in cutting, with a small saw we had brought, some of the gigantic reeds that grew round us. We cut several of the very thick ones, which make excellent vessels when separated at the joints; but I perceived that Jack was cutting some of small dimensions, and I inquired if he was going to make a Pandean pipe, to celebrate his triumphal return with the buffalo.

I didn’t want to leave behind the entire buffalo I had killed since it’s great meat. So, I cut out the tongue and some of the best parts from the loin, and packed them well with salt that we had brought along. Then I carefully skinned the four legs, remembering that American hunters use these skins for boots because they’re very soft and flexible. We let the dogs enjoy the leftovers, and while they feasted, we cleaned ourselves up and sat down under a tree to rest and refresh. Soon, though, the poor animals had plenty of guests at their feast. Clouds of birds of prey came from all directions; an endless battle was going on. As soon as one group of scavengers was satisfied, another showed up, and before long, all that was left of the buffalo were the bones. I noticed among these hungry birds the royal vulture, a beautiful bird known for its brilliant collar of down. We could have easily killed some of these thieves, but I thought it pointless to destroy them out of mere curiosity, and I preferred to spend our time cutting some of the giant reeds that grew around us with a small saw we had brought. We cut several of the thick ones, which make great vessels when separated at the joints. I saw that Jack was cutting some smaller ones, so I asked if he was planning to make a Pandean pipe to celebrate his triumphant return with the buffalo.

“No,” said he; “I don’t recollect that Robinson Crusoe amused himself with music in his island; but I have thought of something that will be useful to mamma. I am cutting these reeds to make moulds for our candles.”

“No,” he said; “I don’t remember Robinson Crusoe entertaining himself with music on his island; but I’ve thought of something that will help Mom. I’m cutting these reeds to make molds for our candles.”

“An excellent thought, my dear boy!” said I; “and if even we break our moulds in getting out the candles, which I suspect we may, we know where they grow, and can come for more.”

“Great idea, my dear boy!” I said; “and even if we break our molds while getting the candles out, which I think we might, we know where to find more, and we can come back for more.”

We collected all our reeds in bundles, and then set out. The calf, intimidated by the dogs, and galled by the rein, went on tolerably well. We crossed the narrow pass in the rocks, and here our dogs killed a large jackal which was coming from her den in the rock. The furious animals then entered the den, followed by Jack, who saved, with difficulty, one of the young cubs, the others being immediately worried. It was a pretty little gold-coloured creature, about the size of a cat. Jack petitioned earnestly to have it to bring up; and I made him happy by granting his request.

We gathered all our reeds into bundles and set off. The calf, scared of the dogs and bothered by the rein, managed to move along reasonably well. We went through the narrow pass in the rocks, where our dogs caught a large jackal that was coming out of its den. The furious animals then went into the den, followed by Jack, who barely managed to save one of the young cubs, while the others were quickly attacked. It was a cute little golden creature, about the size of a cat. Jack earnestly asked to keep it to raise, and I made him happy by agreeing to his request.

In the mean time I had tied the calf to a low tree, which I discovered was the thorny dwarf palm, which grows quickly, and is extremely useful for fences. It bears an oblong fruit, about the size of a pigeon’s egg, from which is extracted an oil which is an excellent substitute for butter. I determined to return for some young plants of this palm to plant at Tent House.

In the meantime, I had tied the calf to a low tree, which I found out was the thorny dwarf palm. This tree grows quickly and is really useful for fences. It produces an oval fruit, about the size of a pigeon’s egg, from which you can extract oil that makes a great substitute for butter. I decided to go back and get some young plants of this palm to plant at Tent House.

It was almost night when we joined our family; and endless were the questions the sight of the buffalo produced, and great was the boasting of Jack the dauntless. I was compelled to lower his pride a little by an unvarnished statement, though I gave him much credit for his coolness and resolution; and, supper-time arriving, my wife had time to tell me what had passed while we had been on our expedition.

It was almost dark when we joined our family; countless questions arose from seeing the buffalo, and Jack the fearless couldn't stop bragging. I had to bring him down a notch with some straightforward comments, though I did acknowledge his composure and determination. As supper time came, my wife had the chance to fill me in on what happened while we were out on our adventure.


CHAPTER XXV.

My wife began by saying they had not been idle in my absence. They had collected wood, and made torches for the night. Fritz and Ernest had even cut down an immense sago-palm, seventy feet high, intending to extract its precious pith; but this they had been unable to accomplish alone, and waited for my assistance. But while they were engaged in this employment, a troop of monkeys had broken into the tent and pillaged and destroyed everything; they had drunk or overturned the milk, and carried off or spoiled all our provisions; and even so much injured the palisade I had erected round the tent, that it took them an hour, after they returned, to repair the damage. Fritz had made also a beautiful capture, in a nest he had discovered in the rocks at Cape Disappointment. It was a superb bird, and, though very young, quite feathered. Ernest had pronounced it to be the eagle of Malabar, and I confirmed his assertion; and as this species of eagle is not large, and does not require much food, I advised him to train it as a falcon, to chase other birds. I took this opportunity to announce that henceforward every one must attend to his own live stock, or they should be set at liberty, mamma having sufficient to manage in her own charge.

My wife started by saying they hadn’t been lazy while I was gone. They gathered wood and made torches for the night. Fritz and Ernest even cut down a huge sago palm, seventy feet tall, planning to get its valuable pith; but they couldn’t do it alone and were waiting for my help. While they were working, a group of monkeys broke into the tent and ransacked everything; they drank or spilled the milk and either took or ruined all our food supplies. They even damaged the palisade I built around the tent so much that it took them an hour to fix everything after they got back. Fritz also made a great find, a nest he discovered in the rocks at Cape Disappointment. It contained a stunning bird, which, although very young, was already fully feathered. Ernest identified it as the eagle of Malabar, and I agreed with him; since this type of eagle isn’t large and doesn’t need much food, I suggested he train it like a falcon to hunt other birds. I also took this chance to announce that from now on, everyone needs to take care of their own livestock, or they’ll be set free, since Mom has enough to handle on her own.

We then made a fire of green wood, in the smoke of which we placed the buffalo-meat we had brought home, leaving it during the night, that it might be perfectly cured. We had had some for supper, and thought it excellent. The young buffalo was beginning to graze, and we gave him a little milk to-night, as well as to the jackal. Fritz had taken the precaution to cover the eyes of his eagle, and tying it fast by the leg to a branch, it rested very tranquilly. We then retired to our mossy beds, to recruit our strength for the labours of another day.

We then built a fire with green wood and used the smoke to cure the buffalo meat we had brought home, leaving it to smoke overnight for perfect preservation. We had some for dinner and thought it was delicious. The young buffalo was starting to graze, so we gave it a little milk tonight, along with the jackal. Fritz had the foresight to cover his eagle's eyes and tied it securely by the leg to a branch, where it rested peacefully. We then settled into our mossy beds to recharge for the challenges of another day.

At break of day we rose, made a light breakfast, and I was about to give the signal of departure, when my wife communicated to me the difficulty they had had in cutting down the palm-tree, and the valuable provision that might be obtained from it with a little trouble. I thought she was right, and decided to remain here another day; for it was no trifling undertaking to split up a tree seventy feet long. I consented the more readily, as I thought I might, after removing the useful pith from the trunk, obtain two large spouts or channels to conduct the water from Jackal River to the kitchen-garden.

At dawn, we got up, had a light breakfast, and I was about to signal our departure when my wife told me about the trouble they had faced in cutting down the palm tree and the valuable resource we could get from it with a bit of effort. I agreed with her and decided to stay another day because splitting a tree that was seventy feet long was no small task. I was even more inclined to stay because I thought that after taking out the useful pith from the trunk, I could get two large spouts or channels to direct water from the Jackal River to the kitchen garden.

Such tools as we had we carried to the place where the tree lay. We first sawed off the head; then, with the hatchet making an opening at each end, we took wedges and mallets, and the wood being tolerably soft, after four hours’ labour, we succeeded in splitting it completely. When parted, we pressed the pith with our hands, to get the whole into one division of the trunk, and began to make our paste. At one end of the spout we nailed one of the graters, through which we intended to force the paste, to form the round seeds. My little bakers set vigorously to work, some pouring water on the pith, while the rest mixed it into paste. When sufficiently worked, I pressed it strongly with my hand against the grater; the farinaceous parts passed easily through the holes, while the ligneous part, consisting of splinters of wood, &c., was left behind. This we threw into a heap, hoping mushrooms might spring from it. My wife now carefully spread the grains on sailcloth, in the sun, to dry them. I also formed some vermicelli, by giving more consistence to the paste, and forcing it through the holes in little pipes. My wife promised with this, and the Dutch cheese, to make us a dish equal to Naples maccaroni. We were now contented; we could at any time obtain more sago by cutting down a tree, and we were anxious to get home to try our water-pipes. We spent the rest of the day in loading the cart with our utensils and the halves of the tree. We retired to our hut at sunset, and slept in peace.

We took the tools we had and went to where the tree was lying. First, we sawed off the top; then, with the hatchet, we made openings at each end. Using wedges and mallets, and since the wood was fairly soft, we managed to split it completely after four hours of work. Once it was split, we pressed the pith with our hands to get it all into one side of the trunk and started making our paste. We nailed one of the graters to one end of the spout, through which we planned to push the paste to form round seeds. My little helpers got to work, with some pouring water on the pith while others mixed it into paste. Once it was well combined, I pressed it firmly against the grater; the starchy parts easily passed through the holes, while the woody bits, like splinters of wood, were left behind. We piled that up, hoping mushrooms might grow from it. My wife then carefully spread the grains on sailcloth in the sun to dry. I also made some vermicelli by thickening the paste and pushing it through small pipes. My wife promised that with this and the Dutch cheese, she would make us a dish as good as Neapolitan macaroni. We felt satisfied now; we could always get more sago by cutting down another tree, and we were eager to get home to try our water-pipes. We spent the rest of the day loading the cart with our tools and the tree halves. We returned to our hut at sunset and slept peacefully.

The next morning the whole caravan began to move at an early hour. The buffalo, harnessed to the cart, by the side of his nurse, the cow, took the place of our lost ass, and began his apprenticeship as a beast of draught. We took the same road on our return, that we might carry away the candle-berries and the vessels of India-rubber. The vanguard was composed of Fritz and Jack, who pioneered our way, by cutting down the underwood to make a road for the cart. Our water-pipes, being very long, somewhat impeded our progress; but we happily reached the candle-berry trees without accident, and placed our sacks on the cart. We did not find more than a quart of the caoutchouc gum; but it would be sufficient for our first experiment, and I carried it off.

The next morning, the whole caravan started moving early. The buffalo, harnessed to the cart next to his caretaker, the cow, took the place of our lost donkey and began learning how to pull the cart. We took the same route back so we could collect the candle-berries and the rubber containers. The front was led by Fritz and Jack, who cleared a path by cutting down the underbrush for the cart. Our long water pipes slowed us down a bit, but we made it to the candle-berry trees without any issues and loaded our sacks onto the cart. We found only about a quart of the rubber gum, but it would be enough for our first experiment, and I took it with me.

In crossing the little wood of guavas, we suddenly heard our dogs, who were before us with Fritz and Jack, uttering the most frightful howlings. I was struck with terror lest they should have encountered a tiger, and rushed forward ready to fire. The dogs were endeavouring to enter a thicket, in the midst of which Fritz declared he had caught a glimpse of an animal larger than the buffalo, with a black, bristly skin. I was just about to discharge my gun into the thicket, when Jack, who had lain down on the ground, to look under the bushes, burst into a loud laugh. “It is another trick of that vexatious animal, our old sow! she is always making fools of us,” cried he. Half merry and half angry, we made an opening into the thicket, and there discovered the lady lying, surrounded by seven little pigs, only a few days old. We were very glad to see our old friend so attended, and stroked her. She seemed to recognize us, and grunted amicably. We supplied her with some potatoes, sweet acorns, and cassava bread; intending, in return, to eat her young ones, when they were ready for the spit, though my dear wife cried out against the cruelty of the idea. At present we left them with her, but proposed afterwards to take away two, to be brought up at home, and leave the rest to support themselves on acorns in the woods, where they would become game for us. At length we arrived at Falcon’s Nest, which we regarded with all the attachment of home. Our domestic animals crowded round us, and noisily welcomed us. We tied up the buffalo and jackal, as they were not yet domesticated. Fritz fastened his eagle to a branch by a chain long enough to allow it to move freely, and then imprudently uncovered its eyes; it immediately raised its head, erected its feathers, and struck on all sides with its beak and claws; our fowls took to flight, but the poor parrot fell in his way, and was torn to pieces before we could assist it. Fritz was very angry, and would have executed the murderer; but Ernest begged he would not be so rash, as parrots were more plentiful than eagles, and it was his own fault for uncovering his eyes; the falconers always keeping their young birds hooded six weeks, till they are quite tamed. He offered to train it, if Fritz would part with it; but this Fritz indignantly refused. I told them the fable of the dog in the manger, which abashed Fritz; and he then besought his brother to teach him the means of training this noble bird, and promised to present him with his monkey.

As we crossed the small guava grove, we suddenly heard our dogs, who were ahead of us with Fritz and Jack, making the most terrifying howls. I was filled with dread that they might have encountered a tiger, and I rushed forward, ready to shoot. The dogs were trying to get into a thicket, where Fritz claimed to have caught a glimpse of something larger than a buffalo, with black, bristly skin. I was just about to fire my gun into the thicket when Jack, who had laid down to peek under the bushes, burst out laughing. “It’s that annoying animal, our old sow! She’s always tricking us,” he exclaimed. Half amused and half annoyed, we made an opening in the thicket and found her lying there, surrounded by seven piglets just a few days old. We were really happy to see our old friend with her little ones and petted her. She seemed to recognize us and grunted happily. We fed her some potatoes, sweet acorns, and cassava bread, thinking that we’d eventually eat her piglets when they were ready for roasting, although my dear wife protested against such cruelty. For now, we left the piglets with her but planned to take two of them home later, letting the rest fend for themselves on acorns in the woods, where they could become our game. Finally, we arrived at Falcon’s Nest, which we regarded with all the warmth of home. Our domestic animals gathered around us and greeted us noisily. We tied up the buffalo and jackal since they weren’t fully domesticated yet. Fritz secured his eagle to a branch with a chain long enough for it to move freely and then foolishly uncovered its eyes; it immediately raised its head, fluffed its feathers, and started attacking with its beak and claws. Our chickens scattered in panic, but unfortunately, the poor parrot got caught in the chaos and was torn apart before we could help it. Fritz was furious and wanted to punish the eagle, but Ernest urged him not to be too hasty, saying that parrots were more common than eagles, and it was Fritz’s own fault for uncovering its eyes; falconers usually keep their young birds hooded for six weeks to tame them. He offered to train it if Fritz would let him keep it, but Fritz indignantly refused. I told them the fable of the dog in the manger, which embarrassed Fritz, leading him to ask his brother to teach him how to train the noble bird, promising to give him his monkey in return.

Ernest then told him that the Caribs subdue the largest birds by making them inhale tobacco smoke. Fritz laughed at this; but Ernest brought a pipe and some tobacco he had found in the ship, and began to smoke gravely under the branch where the bird was perched. It was soon calm, and on his continuing to smoke it became quite motionless. Fritz then easily replaced the bandage, and thanked his brother for his good service.

Ernest then told him that the Caribs subdue the largest birds by making them inhale tobacco smoke. Fritz laughed at this, but Ernest brought a pipe and some tobacco he found on the ship, and started to smoke seriously under the branch where the bird was perched. It soon calmed down, and as he kept smoking, it became completely still. Fritz then easily replaced the bandage and thanked his brother for his help.

The next morning we set out early to our young plantation of fruit-trees, to fix props to support the weaker plants. We loaded the cart with the thick bamboo canes and our tools, and harnessed the cow to it, leaving the buffalo in the stable, as I wished the wound in his nostrils to be perfectly healed before I put him to any hard work. I left Francis with his mother, to prepare our dinner, begging them not to forget the maccaroni.

The next morning, we set out early to our young fruit tree plantation to add supports for the weaker plants. We loaded the cart with thick bamboo canes and our tools, and hooked up the cow to it, leaving the buffalo in the stable because I wanted his nostril wound to heal completely before putting him to any hard work. I left Francis with his mom to prepare our dinner, reminding them not to forget the macaroni.

We began at the entrance of the avenue to Falcon’s Nest, where all the trees were much bent by the wind. We raised them gently by a crowbar; I made a hole in the earth, in which one of my sons placed the bamboo props, driving them firmly down with a mallet, and we proceeded to another, while Ernest and Jack tied the trees to them with a long, tough, pliant plant, which I suspected was a species of llana. As we were working, Fritz inquired if these fruit-trees were wild.

We started at the entrance of the avenue to Falcon’s Nest, where all the trees were leaning heavily from the wind. We carefully propped them up with a crowbar; I dug a hole in the ground, into which one of my sons placed bamboo supports, driving them in securely with a mallet. Then we moved on to the next tree, while Ernest and Jack tied the trees to the supports using a long, strong, flexible plant, which I suspected was a type of llana. As we worked, Fritz asked if these fruit trees were wild.

“A pretty question!” cried Jack. “Do you think that trees are tamed like eagles or buffaloes? You perhaps could teach them to bow politely, so that we might gather the fruit!”

“A pretty question!” Jack exclaimed. “Do you think trees can be trained like eagles or buffalo? Maybe you could teach them to bow nicely so we could pick the fruit!”

“You fancy you are a wit,” said I, “but you speak like a dunce. We cannot make trees bow at our pleasure; but we can make a tree, which by nature bears sour and uneatable fruit, produce what is sweet and wholesome. This is effected by grafting into a wild tree a small branch, or even a bud, of the sort you wish. I will show you this method practically at some future time, for by these means we can procure all sorts of fruit; only we must remember, that we can only graft a tree with one of the same natural family; thus, we could not graft an apple on a cherry-tree, for one belongs to the apple tribe, and the other to the plum tribe.”

“You think you're clever,” I said, “but you sound foolish. We can’t force trees to bend to our will; however, we can make a tree that naturally produces sour and inedible fruit bear something sweet and tasty. This is done by grafting a small branch, or even a bud, from the type of fruit you want onto a wild tree. I will demonstrate this method practically at some point in the future, because with this technique we can get all kinds of fruit; we just have to remember that we can only graft a tree with one from the same natural family. For example, we can’t graft an apple onto a cherry tree, since one belongs to the apple family and the other to the plum family.”

“Do we know the origin of all these European fruits?” asked the inquiring Ernest.

“Do we know where all these European fruits come from?” asked the curious Ernest.

“All our shell fruits,” answered I, “such as the nut, the almond, and the chesnut, are natives of the East; the peach, of Persia; the orange and apricot, of Armenia; the cherry, which was unknown in Europe sixty years before Christ, was brought by the proconsul Lucullus from the southern shores of the Euxine; the olives come from Palestine. The first olive-trees were planted on Mount Olympus, and from thence were spread through the rest of Europe; the fig is from Lydia; the plums, your favourite fruit, with the exception of some natural sorts that are natives of our forests, are from Syria, and the town of Damascus has given its name to one sort, the Damascene, or Damson. The pear is a fruit of Greece; the ancients called it the fruit of Peloponnesus; the mulberry is from Asia; and the quince from the island of Crete.”

"All our shell fruits," I replied, "like the nut, almond, and chestnut, originally come from the East; the peach comes from Persia; the orange and apricot hail from Armenia; the cherry, which was unknown in Europe sixty years before Christ, was brought by the proconsul Lucullus from the southern shores of the Black Sea; the olives are from Palestine. The first olive trees were planted on Mount Olympus, and from there, they spread throughout Europe; the fig is from Lydia; the plums, your favorite fruit, apart from some wild varieties native to our forests, come from Syria, and the town of Damascus has given its name to one type, the Damascene, or Damson. The pear is a fruit of Greece; the ancients referred to it as the fruit of Peloponnesus; the mulberry is from Asia; and the quince is from the island of Crete."

Our work progressed as we talked thus, and we had soon propped all our valuable plants. It was now noon, and we returned to Falcon’s Nest very hungry, and found an excellent dinner prepared, of smoked beef, and the tender bud of the cabbage-palm, the most delicious of vegetables.

Our work moved along as we chatted, and we quickly supported all our valuable plants. It was now noon, and we returned to Falcon’s Nest feeling very hungry, finding a great dinner ready for us, featuring smoked beef and the tender bud of the cabbage-palm, the best of vegetables.

After dinner, we began to discuss a plan I had long had in my head; but the execution of it presented many difficulties. It was, to substitute a firm and solid staircase for the ladder of ropes, which was a source of continual fear to my wife. It is true, that we only had to ascend it to go to bed; but bad weather might compel us to remain in our apartment; we should then have frequently to ascend and descend, and the ladder was very unsafe. But the immense height of the tree, and the impossibility of procuring beams to sustain a staircase round it, threw me into despair. However, looking at the monstrous trunk of the tree, I thought, if we cannot succeed outside, could we not contrive to mount within?

After dinner, we started talking about a plan I had been thinking about for a long time, but putting it into action had a lot of challenges. The idea was to replace the rope ladder with a solid staircase, which was a constant source of anxiety for my wife. It's true that we only needed it to go to bed, but bad weather might force us to stay in our apartment, and we'd often need to go up and down, and the ladder was really unsafe. But the tree's immense height and the difficulty of getting beams to support a staircase around it left me feeling hopeless. However, looking at the massive trunk of the tree, I wondered, if we couldn't manage from the outside, could we figure out how to go up from the inside?

“Have you not said there was a swarm of bees in the trunk of the tree?” I inquired of my wife. “Yes,” said little Francis, “they stung my face dreadfully the other day, when I was on the ladder. I was pushing a stick into the hole they came out of, to try how deep it was.”

“Didn’t you say there was a swarm of bees in the tree trunk?” I asked my wife. “Yes,” little Francis replied, “they stung my face really badly the other day when I was on the ladder. I was poking a stick into the hole they came out of to see how deep it was.”

“Now, then,” cried I, “I see through my difficulties. Let us find out how far the tree is hollow; we can increase the size of the tunnel, and I have already planned the sort of staircase I can construct.” I had hardly spoken, when the boys leaped like squirrels, some upon the arched roots, some on the steps of the ladder, and began to strike with sticks and mallets to sound the tree. This rash proceeding had nearly been fatal to Jack, who, having placed himself just before the opening, and striking violently, the whole swarm, alarmed at an attack, which probably shook their palace of wax, issued forth, and revenged themselves amply on all the assailants. Nothing was heard but cries and stamping of feet. My wife hastened to cover the stings with moist earth, which rather relieved them; but it was some hours before they could open their eyes. They begged me to get them the honey from their foes, and I prepared a hive, which I had long thought of—a large gourd, which I placed on a board nailed upon a branch of our tree, and covered with straw to shelter it from the sun and wind. But it was now bedtime, and we deferred our attack on the fortress till next day.

“Okay,” I said, “I can see how to get past my problems. Let’s check how hollow the tree is; we can make the tunnel bigger, and I’ve already figured out what kind of staircase I can build.” I had barely finished speaking when the boys jumped like squirrels, some onto the curved roots, some onto the steps of the ladder, and started hitting the tree with sticks and mallets to test it. This impulsive move almost cost Jack dearly, who had positioned himself right in front of the opening and was hitting hard when the whole swarm, alarmed by the attack that probably shook their wax palace, burst out and took their revenge on all of us. All we could hear were screams and stomping feet. My wife rushed to cover the stings with moist soil, which helped a bit, but it took several hours before they could open their eyes again. They asked me to get the honey from their enemies, so I set up a hive I’d been thinking about for a while—a large gourd that I placed on a board nailed to a branch of our tree and covered with straw to protect it from the sun and wind. But it was bedtime now, so we postponed our attack on the fortress until the next day.


CHAPTER XXVI.

An hour before day, I waked my sons to assist me in removing the bees to the new abode I had prepared for them. I commenced by plastering up the entrance to their present dwelling with clay, leaving only room to admit the bowl of my pipe. This was necessary, because I had neither masks nor gloves, as the regular bee-takers have. I then began to smoke briskly, to stupify the bees. At first we heard a great buzzing in the hollow, like the sound of a distant storm: the murmur ceased by degrees, and a profound stillness succeeded, and I withdrew my pipe without a single bee appearing. Fritz and I then, with a chisel and small axe, made an opening about three feet square, below the bees’ entrance. Before we detached this, I repeated the fumigation, lest the noise and the fresh air should awake the bees; but there was no fear of such a thing,—they were quite stupified. We removed the wood, and through this opening beheld, with wonder and admiration, the work of this insect nation. There was such a store of wax and honey, that we feared we should not have vessels to contain it. The interior of the tree was filled with the honeycombs; I cut them carefully, and placed them in the gourds the boys brought me. As soon as I had made a little space, I placed the upper comb, on which the bees were hanging in clusters, in the new hive, and put it on the plank prepared for it; I then descended with the rest of the honeycomb, and filled a cask with it, which I had previously washed in the stream; this we covered with sailcloth and planks, lest the bees, attracted by the smell, should come to claim their own. We left out some comb for a treat at dinner, and my wife carefully put by the rest.

An hour before dawn, I woke my sons to help me move the bees to the new home I had set up for them. I started by sealing off the entrance to their current hive with clay, leaving just enough space to fit my pipe. This was necessary since I didn't have masks or gloves like the regular beekeepers. I then began to smoke vigorously to tranquilize the bees. At first, we heard a loud buzzing from inside, like the sound of a distant storm; gradually, the noise faded, and a deep silence followed, and I took my pipe away without a single bee coming out. Fritz and I then used a chisel and a small axe to create a three-foot square opening below where the bees entered. Before we removed this, I smoked them again, just in case the noise and fresh air would wake them up, but I had no worries—they were completely subdued. We removed the wood and through this opening, we marveled at the work of this insect community. There was so much wax and honey that we worried we wouldn't have enough containers for it. The inside of the tree was filled with honeycombs; I cut them carefully and placed them in the gourds the boys brought me. Once I had made some space, I placed the top comb, where the bees were clustering, into the new hive and set it on the prepared plank; I then went down with the rest of the honeycomb and filled a barrel with it, which I had washed in the stream beforehand; we covered this with sailcloth and planks so that the bees, drawn in by the scent, wouldn’t come to reclaim their own. We saved some comb for a treat at dinner, and my wife carefully stored the rest.

To prevent the bees returning to their old abode, we placed some burning tobacco in the hollow, the smell and fumes of which drove them from the tree, when they wished to enter; and, finally, they settled in the new hive, where the queen bee, doubtless, had fixed herself.

To stop the bees from going back to their old home, we put burning tobacco in the hollow. The smell and smoke chased them away from the tree whenever they tried to get in; eventually, they settled in the new hive, where the queen bee had likely gotten comfortable.

We now began our work; we emptied the cask of honey into a large boiler, except a little reserved for daily use; we added a little water, placed the boiler on a slow fire, and reduced it to a liquid mass; this was strained through a bag into the cask, and left standing all night to cool. The next morning the wax had risen to the top, and formed a hard and solid cake, which we easily removed; and beneath was the most pure and delicious honey. The barrel was then carefully closed, and placed in a cool place. We now proceeded to examine the interior of the tree. I took a long pole, and tried the height from the window I had made; and tied a stone to a string to sound the depth. To my surprise, the pole penetrated without resistance to the very branches where our dwelling was, and the stone went to the roots. It was entirely hollow, and I thought I could easily fix a winding staircase in this wide tunnel. It would seem, that this huge tree, like the willow of our country, is nourished through the bark, for it was flourishing in luxuriant beauty.

We started our work by pouring the honey from the cask into a large boiler, keeping a little aside for daily use. We added some water, put the boiler on a low flame, and reduced it to a liquid. This was then strained through a bag back into the cask and left to cool overnight. The next morning, the wax had risen to the top, forming a hard, solid cake that we easily removed, revealing the pure and delicious honey underneath. We then carefully closed the barrel and stored it in a cool place. Next, we looked inside the tree. I took a long pole to check the height from the window I had made and tied a stone to a string to measure the depth. To my surprise, the pole went down easily all the way to the branches where our home was, and the stone reached the roots. The tree was completely hollow, and I thought it would be easy to build a winding staircase in this wide tunnel. It seemed that this massive tree, like the willow in our country, gets its nourishment through the bark, as it was thriving beautifully.

We began by cutting a doorway, on the side facing the sea, of the size of the door we had brought from the captain’s cabin, with its framework, thus securing ourselves from invasion on that side. We then cleansed, and perfectly smoothed the cavity, fixing in the middle the trunk of a tree about ten feet high, to serve for the axis of the staircase. We had prepared, the evening before, a number of boards from the staves of a large barrel, to form our steps. By the aid of the chisel and mallet, we made deep notches in the inner part of our tree, and corresponding notches in the central pillar; I placed my steps in these notches, riveting them with large nails; I raised myself in this manner step after step, but always turning round the pillar, till we got to the top. We then fixed on the central pillar another trunk of the same height, prepared beforehand, and continued our winding steps. Four times we had to repeat this operation, and, finally, we reached our branches, and terminated the staircase on the level of the floor of our apartment. I cleared the entrance by some strokes of my axe. To render it more solid, I filled up the spaces between the steps with planks, and fastened two strong cords from above, to each side of the staircase, to hold by. Towards different points, I made openings; in which were placed the windows taken from the cabin, which gave light to the interior, and favoured our observations outside.

We started by cutting a doorway on the side facing the sea, sized to fit the door we had brought from the captain’s cabin, ensuring we were protected from any attacks from that direction. Next, we cleaned and smoothed the space, placing the trunk of a tree about ten feet high in the center to act as the axis for the staircase. The night before, we had prepared several boards from the staves of a large barrel to use as our steps. With the help of a chisel and mallet, we carved deep notches in the inner part of the tree and matching notches in the central pillar; I set my steps in these notches and secured them with large nails. I climbed up step by step, always circling the pillar, until we reached the top. We then attached another trunk of the same height, which we had prepared earlier, to the central pillar and continued building our spiral staircase. We had to repeat this process four times, and finally, we reached the branches and finished the staircase at the level of the floor of our room. I cleared the entrance with a few strikes of my axe. To make it sturdier, I filled the gaps between the steps with planks and secured two strong ropes from above, one on each side of the staircase to hold onto. I also made openings at various points where we placed windows from the cabin, allowing light into the interior and aiding our observations outside.

The construction of this solid and convenient staircase occupied us during a month of patient industry; not that we laboured like slaves, for we had no one to constrain us; we had in this time completed several works of less importance; and many events had amused us amidst our toil.

The building of this sturdy and practical staircase took us a month of dedicated work; not that we worked like slaves, since no one was forcing us; during this time we also finished several less important projects; and many things entertained us while we worked.

A few days after we commenced, Flora produced six puppies; but the number being too large for our means of support, I commanded that only a male and female should be preserved, that the breed might be perpetuated; this was done, and the little jackal being placed with the remainder, Flora gave it the same privileges as her own offspring. Our goats also, about this time, gave us two kids; and our sheep some lambs. We saw this increase of our flock with great satisfaction; and for fear these useful animals should take it into their heads to stray from us, as our ass had done, we tied round their necks some small bells we had found on the wreck, intended to propitiate the savages, and which would always put us on the track of the fugitives.

A few days after we started, Flora had six puppies; but there were too many for us to take care of, so I decided that we should keep only one male and one female to continue the breed. This was done, and the little jackal was placed with the others, and Flora treated it just like her own pups. Around this time, our goats also gave us two kids, and our sheep had some lambs. We were very pleased to see our flock growing; and to prevent these useful animals from wandering off like our donkey had done, we put some small bells around their necks that we found on the wreck, which were meant to appease the savages and would help us track down any that tried to escape.

The education of the young buffalo was one of the employments that varied our labour as carpenters. Through the incision in his nostrils, I had passed a small stick, to the ends of which I attached a strap. This formed a kind of bit, after the fashion of those of the Hottentots; and by this I guided him as I chose; though not without much rebellion on his part. It was only after Fritz had broken it in for mounting, that we began to make it carry. It was certainly a remarkable instance of patience and perseverance surmounting difficulties, that we not only made it bear the wallets we usually placed on the ass, but Ernest, Jack, and even little Francis, took lessons in horsemanship, by riding him, and, henceforward, would have been able to ride the most spirited horse without fear; for it could not be worse than the buffalo they had assisted to subdue.

Teaching the young buffalo was one of the jobs that broke up our routine as carpenters. I had pushed a small stick through his nostrils, to which I attached a strap. This created a sort of bit, similar to those used by the Hottentots, and I used it to guide him however I wanted, although he often resisted. It was only after Fritz had trained it for riding that we began to make it carry things. It was truly a remarkable example of patience and determination overcoming challenges, as we managed to have it carry the bags we usually put on the donkey. Moreover, Ernest, Jack, and even little Francis took riding lessons on him, and from then on, they would have been able to ride the most spirited horse without fear; it couldn’t have been worse than the buffalo they had helped to tame.

In the midst of this, Fritz did not neglect the training of his young eagle. The royal bird began already to pounce very cleverly on the dead game his master brought, and placed before him; sometimes between the horns of the buffalo, sometimes on the back of the great bustard, or the flamingo; sometimes he put it on a board, or on the end of a pole, to accustom it to pounce, like the falcon, on other birds. He taught it to settle on his wrist at a call, or a whistle; but it was some time before he could trust it to fly, without a long string attached to its leg, for fear its wild nature should carry it from us for ever. Even the indolent Ernest was seized with the mania of instructing animals. He undertook the education of his little monkey, who gave him sufficient employment. It was amusing to see the quiet, slow, studious Ernest obliged to make leaps and gambols with his pupil to accomplish his instruction. He wished to accustom Master Knips to carry a pannier, and to climb the cocoa-nut trees with it on his back; Jack and he wove a small light pannier of rushes, and fixed it firmly on his back with three straps. This was intolerable to him at first; he ground his teeth, rolled on the ground, and leaped about in a frantic manner, trying in vain to release himself. They left the pannier on his back night and day, and only allowed him to eat what he had previously put into it. After a little time, he became so accustomed to it, that he rebelled if they wished to remove it, and threw into it everything they gave him to hold. He was very useful to us, but he obeyed only Ernest, who had very properly taught him equally to love and fear him.

In the middle of all this, Fritz didn't forget about training his young eagle. The royal bird started to cleverly pounce on the dead game his master brought and placed in front of him; sometimes between the horns of the buffalo, sometimes on the back of the great bustard or the flamingo. At times, he would put it on a board or at the end of a pole to help it get used to pouncing, like a falcon, on other birds. He taught it to settle on his wrist when called or whistled to; but it took a while before he could trust it to fly without a long string attached to its leg, fearing its wild nature would make it fly away forever. Even the lazy Ernest got caught up in the craze of training animals. He took on the task of educating his little monkey, which kept him quite busy. It was entertaining to see the calm, slow, studious Ernest forced to jump around and play with his pupil to make his training work. He wanted to get Master Knips used to carrying a basket and climbing coconut trees with it on his back. Jack and he wove a small, lightweight basket from reeds and secured it firmly on the monkey's back with three straps. This was unbearable for Knips at first; he ground his teeth, rolled on the ground, and jumped around frantically, trying in vain to free himself. They left the basket on his back day and night and only let him eat what he had previously put into it. After a little while, he became so accustomed to it that he would rebel if they tried to take it off, and he started throwing everything they gave him to hold into it. He was very useful to us, but he only obeyed Ernest, who had properly taught him to both love and fear him.

Jack was not so successful with his jackal; for, though he gave him the name of “The Hunter,” yet, for the first six months, the carnivorous animal chased only for himself, and, if he brought anything to his master, it was only the skin of the animal he had just devoured; but I charged him not to despair, and he continued zealously his instructions.

Jack wasn't very successful with his jackal; even though he named him "The Hunter," for the first six months, the carnivorous animal hunted only for himself. When he did bring anything to Jack, it was just the skin of the animal he had just eaten. But I told him not to lose hope, and he kept diligently following his training.

During this time I had perfected my candle manufacture; by means of mixing the bees’ wax with that obtained from the candle-berry, and by using cane moulds, which Jack first suggested to me, I succeeded in giving my candles the roundness and polish of those of Europe. The wicks were for some time an obstacle. I did not wish to use the small quantity of calico we had left, but my wife happily proposed to me to substitute the pith of a species of elder, which answered my purpose completely.

During this time, I had perfected my candle-making. By mixing beeswax with wax from the candleberry and using cane molds, which Jack first suggested to me, I successfully gave my candles the roundness and shine of those made in Europe. For a while, the wicks were a challenge. I didn’t want to use the little calico we had left, but my wife happily suggested using the pith from a type of elder, which worked perfectly for me.

I now turned myself to the preparation of the caoutchouc, of which we had found several trees. I encouraged the boys to try their ingenuity in making flasks and cups, by covering moulds of clay with the gum, as I had explained to them. For my part, I took a pair of old stockings, and filled them with sand for my mould, which I covered with a coating of mud, and left to dry in the sun. I cut out a pair of soles of buffalo leather, which I first hammered well, and then fastened with small tacks to the sole of the stocking, filling up the spaces left with the gum, so as to fix it completely. Then, with a brush of goats hair, I covered it with layer upon layer of the elastic gum, till I thought it sufficiently thick. It was easy after this to remove the sand, the stocking, and the hardened mud, to shake out the dust, and I had a pair of waterproof boots, without seam, and fitting as well as if I had employed an English shoemaker. My boys were wild with joy, and all begged for a pair; but I wished first to try their durability, compared with those of buffalo leather. I began to make a pair of boots for Fritz, using the skin drawn from the legs of the buffalo we had killed; but I had much more difficulty than with the caoutchouc. I used the gum to cover the seams, so that the water might not penetrate. They were certainly not elegant as a work of art, and the boys laughed at their brother’s awkward movements in them; but their own productions, though useful vessels, were not models of perfection.

I started working on making the rubber from the trees we had found. I encouraged the boys to use their creativity to make flasks and cups by covering clay molds with the gum, just like I had shown them. For my part, I took a pair of old stockings, filled them with sand for my mold, covered it with mud, and left it to dry in the sun. I cut out a pair of soles from buffalo leather, hammered them well, and then attached them to the stocking's sole with small tacks, filling in the gaps with the gum to secure everything. Then, using a brush made from goat hair, I layered on the elastic gum until it felt thick enough. After that, it was easy to remove the sand, stocking, and hard mud, shake out the dust, and I ended up with a pair of waterproof boots, seamless and fitting as well as if I had hired an English shoemaker. The boys were over the moon, all asking for a pair; but I wanted to test their durability first against the buffalo leather ones. I began making a pair of boots for Fritz, using the skin from the buffalo we had killed; but it was much more challenging than the rubber. I used the gum to seal the seams to keep water out. They definitely weren't beautiful, and the boys laughed at their brother's clumsy movements in them; but even their creations, while functional, weren't exactly perfect either.

We then worked at our fountain, a great source of pleasure to my wife and to all of us. We raised, in the upper part of the river, a sort of dam, made with stakes and stones, from whence the water flowed into our channels of the sago-palm, laid down a gentle declivity nearly to our tent, and there it was received into the shell of the turtle, which we had raised on some stones of a convenient height, the hole which the harpoon had made serving to carry off the waste water through a cane that was fitted to it. On two crossed sticks were placed the gourds that served us for pails, and thus we had always the murmuring of the water near us, and a plentiful supply of it, always pure and clean, which the river, troubled by our water-fowl and the refuse of decayed leaves, could not always give us. The only inconvenience of these open channels was, that the water reached us warm and unrefreshing; but this I hoped to remedy in time, by using bamboo pipes buried in the earth. In the mean time, we were grateful for this new acquisition, and gave credit to Fritz, who had suggested the idea.

We then worked on our fountain, which brought a lot of joy to my wife and all of us. We built a kind of dam in the upper part of the river, made from stakes and stones, allowing the water to flow into our channels for the sago-palm, sloping gently down to our tent. There, it was collected in a turtle shell that we had positioned on some stones of a suitable height, with the hole made by the harpoon allowing the waste water to drain off through a fitted cane. We placed our gourds, which we used as buckets, on two crossed sticks, so we always had the sound of flowing water nearby and a generous supply of it, always clean and pure, which the river, disturbed by our waterfowl and decaying leaves, couldn’t always provide. The only downside of these open channels was that the water came to us warm and not refreshing; however, I hoped to fix this over time by using bamboo pipes buried in the ground. In the meantime, we appreciated this new addition and credited Fritz for suggesting the idea.


CHAPTER XXVII.

One morning, as we were engaged in giving the last finish to our staircase, we were alarmed at hearing at a distance strange, sharp, prolonged sounds, like the roars of a wild beast, but mingled with an unaccountable hissing. Our dogs erected their ears, and prepared for deadly combat. I assembled my family; we then ascended our tree, closing the lower door, loaded our guns, and looked anxiously round, but nothing appeared. I armed my dogs with their porcupine coats of mail and collars, and left them below to take care of our animals.

One morning, while we were putting the finishing touches on our staircase, we were startled by strange, sharp, prolonged sounds in the distance that resembled the roars of a wild animal, mixed with an odd hissing. Our dogs perked up their ears, ready for a fight. I gathered my family, and we climbed up into our treehouse, locking the lower door, loading our guns, and looking around anxiously, but we didn’t see anything. I outfitted my dogs with their porcupine coats of armor and collars and left them below to watch over our animals.

The horrible howlings seemed to approach nearer to us; at length, Fritz, who was leaning forward to listen as attentively as he could, threw down his gun, and bursting into a loud laugh, cried out, “It is our fugitive, the ass, come back to us, and singing his song of joy on his return!” We listened, and were sure he was right, and could not but feel a little vexation at being put into such a fright by a donkey. Soon after, we had the pleasure of seeing him appear among the trees; and, what was still better, he was accompanied by another animal of his own species, but infinitely more beautiful. I knew it at once to be the onagra, or wild ass, a most important capture, if we could make it; though all naturalists have declared it impossible to tame this elegant creature, yet I determined to make the attempt.

The terrible howling seemed to get closer to us; finally, Fritz, who was leaning forward to listen as carefully as he could, dropped his gun and burst into loud laughter, shouting, “It’s our runaway, the donkey, back with us, singing his joyful return!” We listened and were sure he was right, and couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed at being scared by a donkey. Soon after, we were delighted to see him come out from the trees; and even better, he was accompanied by another donkey, but one that was much more beautiful. I instantly recognized it as the onager, or wild ass, a significant catch if we could manage it; although all naturalists have said it’s impossible to tame this graceful creature, I decided to give it a try.

I went down with Fritz, exhorting his brothers to remain quiet, and I consulted with my privy counsellor on the means of taking our prize. I also prepared, as quickly as possible, a long cord with a noose, kept open by a slight stick, which would fall out as soon as the animal’s head entered, while any attempt to escape would only draw the noose closer; the end of this cord was tied to the root of a tree. I took then a piece of bamboo, about two feet long, and splitting it up, tied it firmly at one end, to form a pair of pincers for the nose of the animal. In the mean time, the two animals had approached nearer, our old Grizzle apparently doing the honours to his visitor, and both grazing very comfortably.

I went down with Fritz, urging his brothers to stay quiet, and I talked with my adviser about how to catch our prize. I also quickly made a long cord with a noose, which was held open by a small stick that would fall out as soon as the animal's head went in. Any attempt to escape would just pull the noose tighter; the end of the cord was tied to the root of a tree. Then I took a piece of bamboo, about two feet long, split it, and tied one end securely to create a pair of pincers for the animal's nose. Meanwhile, the two animals had come closer, with our old Grizzle seemingly playing host to his guest, and both were grazing very comfortably.

By degrees we advanced softly to them, concealed by the trees; Fritz carrying the lasso, and I the pincers. The onagra, as soon as he got sight of Fritz, who was before me, raised his head, and started back, evidently only in surprise, as it was probably the first man the creature had seen. Fritz remained still, and the animal resumed his browsing. Fritz went up to our old servant, and offered him a handful of oats mixed with salt; the ass came directly to eat its favourite treat; its companion followed, raised its head, snuffed the air, and came so near, that Fritz adroitly threw the noose over its head. The terrified animal attempted to fly, but that drew the cord so tight as almost to stop his respiration, and he lay down, his tongue hanging out. I hastened up and relaxed the cord, lest he should be strangled. I threw the halter of the ass round his neck, and placed the split cane over his nose, tying it firmly below with a string. I subdued this wild animal by the means that blacksmiths use the first time they shoe a horse. I then took off the noose, and tied the halter by two long cords to the roots of two separate trees, and left him to recover himself.

We quietly approached them, hidden by the trees; Fritz was carrying the lasso, and I had the pincers. As soon as the onager spotted Fritz in front of me, it raised its head and backed away, clearly startled, since it was probably the first human it had ever seen. Fritz stayed still, and the animal went back to grazing. Fritz walked over to our old servant and offered him a handful of oats mixed with salt; the donkey came right over to enjoy its favorite snack. The onager followed, lifted its head, sniffed the air, and got so close that Fritz skillfully threw the noose over its head. The frightened animal tried to escape, but that tightened the cord so much that it almost stopped its breathing, causing it to lie down with its tongue hanging out. I rushed over and loosened the cord to prevent it from choking. I put the donkey's halter around its neck and placed the split cane over its nose, tying it securely below with a string. I calmed this wild animal using the method blacksmiths employ the first time they shoe a horse. Then I removed the noose and tied the halter with two long cords to the roots of two different trees, leaving it to recover.

In the mean time, the rest of the family had collected to admire this noble animal, whose graceful and elegant form, so superior to that of the ass, raises it almost to the dignity of a horse. After a while it rose, and stamped furiously with its feet, trying to release itself; but the pain in its nose obliged it to lie down again. Then my eldest son and I, approaching gently, took the two cords, and led or dragged it between two roots very near to each other, to which we tied the cords so short, that it had little power to move, and could not escape. We took care our own donkey should not stray again, by tying his fore-feet loosely, and putting on him a new halter, and left him near the onagra.

In the meantime, the rest of the family gathered to admire this magnificent animal, whose graceful and elegant shape, far superior to that of a donkey, almost elevates it to the status of a horse. After a while, it stood up and stamped angrily with its feet, trying to free itself, but the pain in its nose forced it to lie down again. Then my eldest son and I, approaching carefully, took the two ropes and led or dragged it between two roots that were very close together, tying the ropes so short that it had little ability to move and couldn’t escape. We made sure our own donkey wouldn’t wander off again by loosely tying its front feet and putting a new halter on it, leaving it near the onager.

I continued, with a patience I had never had in Europe, to use every means I could think of with our new guest, and at the end of a month he was so far subdued, that I ventured to begin his education. This was a long and difficult task. We placed some burdens on his back; but the obedience necessary before we could mount him, it seemed impossible to instil into him. At last, I recollected the method they use in America to tame the wild horses, and I resolved to try it. In spite of the bounds and kicks of the furious animal, I leaped on his back, and seizing one of his long ears between my teeth, I bit it till the blood came. In a moment he reared himself almost erect on his hind-feet, remained for a while stiff and motionless, then came down on his fore-feet slowly, I still holding on his ear. At last I ventured to release him; he made some leaps, but soon subsided into a sort of trot, I having previously placed loose cords on his fore legs. From that time we were his masters; my sons mounted him one after another; they gave him the name of Lightfoot, and never animal deserved his name better. As a precaution, we kept the cords on his legs for some time; and as he never would submit to the bit, we used a snaffle, by which we obtained power over his head, guiding him by a stick, with which we struck the right or left ear, as we wished him to go.

I kept trying, with a patience I had never shown in Europe, to use every approach I could think of with our new guest, and by the end of a month, he was so tamed that I decided to start his training. This was a long and tough task. We placed some burdens on his back; but the obedience we needed before we could ride him seemed impossible to instill in him. Finally, I remembered the method they use in America to train wild horses, and I decided to give it a shot. Despite the kicks and struggles of the fierce animal, I jumped onto his back, grabbed one of his long ears between my teeth, and bit it until it bled. In an instant, he reared up almost completely on his hind legs, stayed stiff and motionless for a moment, then slowly came down on his front legs while I kept holding onto his ear. Eventually, I dared to let him go; he jumped around a bit, but then settled into a kind of trot, as I had previously put loose cords on his front legs. From that point on, we were in charge; my sons took turns riding him; they named him Lightfoot, and no animal ever deserved that name more. Just to be safe, we left the cords on his legs for a while; and since he would never accept a bit, we used a snaffle, which gave us control over his head, guiding him with a stick that we tapped on his right or left ear, depending on which way we wanted him to go.

During this time, our poultry-yard was increased by three broods of chickens. We had at least forty of these little creatures chirping and pecking about, the pride of their good mistress’s heart. Part of these were kept at home, to supply the table, and part she allowed to colonize in the woods, where we could find them when we wanted them. “These,” she said, “are of more use than your monkeys, jackals, and eagles, who do nothing but eat, and would not be worth eating themselves, if we were in need.” However, she allowed there was some use in the buffalo, who carried burdens, and Lightfoot, who carried her sons so well. The fowls, which cost us little for food, would be always ready, she said, either to supply us with eggs or chickens, when the rainy season came on—the winter of this climate.

During this time, our chicken coop expanded with three broods of chicks. We had at least forty of these little guys chirping and pecking around, and they were the pride of their caring owner's heart. Some were kept at home to provide food for the table, while she let the others roam in the woods, where we could find them when we needed them. "These," she said, "are way more useful than your monkeys, jackals, and eagles, who just eat and wouldn’t be worth having as food themselves if we were in a pinch." Still, she admitted that the buffalo had some value because they carried loads, and Lightfoot did a great job carrying her sons. The chickens, which cost us little to feed, would always be ready, she said, either to provide us with eggs or chicks when the rainy season came—the winter of this climate.

This reminded me that the approach of that dreary season permitted me no longer to defer a very necessary work for the protection of our animals. This was to construct, under the roots of the trees, covered houses for them. We began by making a kind of roof above the vaulted roots of our tree. We used bamboo canes for this purpose; the longer and stouter were used for the supports, like columns, the slighter ones bound together closely formed the roof. The intervals we filled up with moss and clay, and spread over the whole a coating of tar. The roof was so firm, that it formed a platform, which we surrounded with a railing; and thus we had a balcony, and a pleasant promenade. By the aid of some boards nailed to the roots, we made several divisions in the interior, each little enclosure being appropriated to some useful purpose; and thus, stables, poultry-houses, dairy, larder, hay-house, store-room, &c., besides our dining-room, were all united under one roof. This occupied us some time, as it was necessary to fill our store-room before the bad weather came; and our cart was constantly employed in bringing useful stores.

This reminded me that with the dreary season approaching, I could no longer put off an essential task for the protection of our animals. We needed to build covered shelters for them under the tree roots. We started by making a roof over the vaulted roots of our tree. We used bamboo canes for this; the longer, sturdier ones served as supports, like columns, while the thinner ones were closely bound together to form the roof. We filled in the gaps with moss and clay and covered the whole thing with a layer of tar. The roof was so strong that it created a platform, which we surrounded with a railing, giving us a balcony and a nice walkway. With some boards nailed to the roots, we created several sections inside, each little area serving a useful purpose; thus, we had stables, chicken coops, a dairy, a pantry, a hay storage area, a storeroom, etc., all under one roof along with our dining area. This kept us busy for a while, as we needed to stock our storeroom before the bad weather hit, and our cart was constantly hauling in useful supplies.

One evening, as we were bringing home a load of potatoes on our cart, drawn by the ass, the cow, and the buffalo, I saw the cart was not yet full; I therefore sent home the two younger boys with their mother, and went on with Fritz and Ernest to the oak wood, to collect a sack of sweet acorns—Fritz mounted on his onagra, Ernest followed by his monkey, and I carrying the bag. On arriving at the wood, we tied Lightfoot to a tree, and all three began to gather the dropped acorns, when we were startled by the cries of birds, and a loud flapping of wings, and we concluded that a brisk combat was going on between Master Knips and the tenants of the thickets, from whence the noise came. Ernest went softly to see what was the matter, and we soon heard him calling out, “Be quick! a fine heath-fowl’s nest, full of eggs! Knips wants to suck them, and the mother is beating him.”

One evening, as we were bringing home a load of potatoes on our cart pulled by the donkey, the cow, and the buffalo, I noticed the cart wasn't full yet. So, I sent the two younger boys home with their mom and continued on with Fritz and Ernest to the oak wood to gather a sack of sweet acorns. Fritz was riding his onager, Ernest had his monkey with him, and I was carrying the bag. When we arrived at the wood, we tied Lightfoot to a tree, and all three of us started picking up the fallen acorns when we were suddenly startled by the cries of birds and a loud flapping of wings. We figured there was a lively fight happening between Master Knips and the birds in the bushes where the noise was coming from. Ernest quietly went to check it out, and we soon heard him calling, “Hurry! There’s a great heath-fowl’s nest full of eggs! Knips is trying to eat them, and the mother is attacking him!”

Fritz ran up, and secured the two beautiful birds, who fluttered, and cried out furiously, and returned, followed by Ernest, carrying a large nest filled with eggs. The monkey had served us well on this occasion; for the nest was so hidden by a bush with long leaves, of which Ernest held his hand full, that, but for the instinct of the animal, we could never have discovered it. Ernest was overjoyed to carry the nest and eggs for his dear mamma, and the long, pointed leaves he intended for Francis, to serve as little toy-swords.

Fritz ran up and caught the two beautiful birds, who flapped their wings and squawked angrily. He was followed by Ernest, who was carrying a large nest filled with eggs. The monkey had really helped us this time; the nest was so well hidden by a bush with long leaves that Ernest was holding a handful of, that without the animal's instinct, we would never have found it. Ernest was thrilled to carry the nest and eggs for his dear mom, and he planned to use the long, pointed leaves as little toy swords for Francis.

We set out on our return, placing the sack of acorns behind Fritz on Lightfoot; Ernest carried the two fowls, and I charged myself with the care of the eggs, which I covered up, as I found they were warm, and I hoped to get the mother to resume her brooding when we got to Falcon’s Nest. We were all delighted with the good news we should have to carry home, and Fritz, anxious to be first, struck his charger with a bunch of the pointed leaves he had taken from Ernest: this terrified the animal so much, that he took the bit in his teeth, and flew out of sight like an arrow. We followed, in some uneasiness, but found him safe. Master Lightfoot had stopped of himself when he reached his stable. My wife placed the valuable eggs under a sitting hen, the true mother refusing to fulfil her office. She was then put into the cage of the poor parrot, and hung in our dining-room, to accustom her to society. In a few days the eggs were hatched, and the poultry-yard had an increase of fifteen little strangers, who fed greedily on bruised acorns, and soon became as tame as any of our fowls, though I plucked the large feathers out of their wings when they were full-grown, lest their wild nature should tempt them to quit us.

We set off on our way back, placing the sack of acorns behind Fritz on Lightfoot; Ernest carried the two chickens, and I took care of the eggs, which I covered since they were warm, hoping the mother would start brooding again once we got to Falcon’s Nest. We were all excited about the good news we would bring home, and Fritz, eager to be first, struck his horse with a bunch of pointed leaves he had taken from Ernest. This startled the horse so much that it took the bit in its teeth and shot off like an arrow. We followed, a bit worried, but found him safe. Lightfoot had stopped on his own when he reached his stable. My wife placed the valuable eggs under a sitting hen, as the true mother refused to do her job. She was then put into the cage of the poor parrot, which was hung in our dining room to get her used to being around others. In a few days, the eggs hatched, and the poultry yard welcomed fifteen little newcomers, who eagerly fed on crushed acorns and quickly became as tame as our other chickens, though I pulled out the large feathers from their wings when they were fully grown, so their wild instincts wouldn’t tempt them to leave us.


CHAPTER XXVIII.

Francis had soon become tired of playing with the long leaves his brother had brought him, and they were thrown aside. Fritz happened to take some of the withered leaves up, which were soft and flexible as a ribbon, and he advised Francis to make whiplashes of them, to drive the goats and sheep with, for the little fellow was the shepherd. He was pleased with the idea, and began to split the leaves into strips, which Fritz platted together into very good whiplashes. I remarked, as they were working, how strong and pliant these strips seemed, and, examining them closely, I found they were composed of long fibres, or filaments, which made me suspect it to be Phormium tenax, or New Zealand flax, a most important discovery to us, and which, when I communicated it to my wife, almost overwhelmed her with joy. “Bring me all the leaves you can without delay,” cried she, “and I will make you stockings, shirts, coats, sewing-thread, cords—in fact, give me but flax and work-tools, and I can manage all.” I could not help smiling at the vivacity of her imagination, roused at the very name of flax; but there was still great space between the leaves lying before us and the linen she was already sewing in idea. But my boys, always ready to second the wishes of their beloved mother, soon mounted their coursers, Fritz on Lightfoot, and Jack on the great buffalo, to procure supplies.

Francis quickly got tired of playing with the long leaves his brother had brought him, so he tossed them aside. Fritz picked up some of the dried leaves, which were soft and flexible like ribbons, and suggested to Francis that he could make whips out of them to drive the goats and sheep, since the little guy was the shepherd. Francis liked the idea and started to cut the leaves into strips, which Fritz braided together into very good whips. I noticed while they were working how strong and flexible these strips were, and when I looked closer, I saw they were made of long fibers, which made me suspect it was Phormium tenax, or New Zealand flax—a discovery that was hugely significant for us. When I shared this with my wife, she was nearly overwhelmed with joy. “Bring me all the leaves you can, right away!” she exclaimed, “and I’ll make you stockings, shirts, coats, sewing thread, cords—in fact, just give me flax and tools, and I can handle everything.” I couldn’t help but smile at her lively imagination, sparked just by the mention of flax; but there was still a big gap between the leaves in front of us and the linen she was already picturing in her mind. However, my boys, always eager to help their beloved mother, soon hopped on their horses—Fritz on Lightfoot and Jack on the big buffalo—to gather supplies.

Whilst we waited for these, my wife, all life and animation, explained to me all the machines I must make, to enable her to spin and weave, and make linen to clothe us from head to foot; her eyes sparkled with delight as she spoke, and I promised her all she asked.

While we waited for these, my wife, full of energy and enthusiasm, told me about all the machines I needed to build so she could spin, weave, and make linen to clothe us from head to toe; her eyes shined with joy as she spoke, and I promised her everything she requested.

In a short time, our young cavaliers returned from their foraging expedition, conveying on their steeds huge bundles of the precious plant, which they laid at the feet of their mother. She gave up everything to begin her preparation. The first operation necessary was to steep the flax, which is usually done by exposing it in the open air in the rain, the wind, and the dew, so as, in a certain degree, to dissolve the plant, rendering the separation of the fibrous and ligneous parts more easy. It can then be cleaned and picked for spinning. But, as the vegetable glue that connects the two parts is very tenacious, and resists for a long time the action of moisture, it is often advisable to steep it in water, and this, in our dry climate, I considered most expedient.

In no time, our young knights came back from their foraging trip, bringing back huge bundles of the valuable plant on their horses, which they laid at their mother's feet. She dropped everything to start her preparation. The first step was to soak the flax, which is typically done by leaving it out in the open air in the rain, wind, and dew to break down the plant a bit, making it easier to separate the fibrous and woody parts. It can then be cleaned and prepared for spinning. However, since the natural glue that holds the two parts together is very strong and resists moisture for a long time, it’s often better to soak it in water. Given our dry climate, I thought this was the best approach.

My wife agreed to this, and proposed that we should convey it to Flamingo Marsh; and we spent the rest of the day in tying up the leaves in bundles. Next morning, we loaded our cart, and proceeded to the marsh: we there untied our bundles, and spread them in the water, pressing them down with stones, and leaving them till it was time to take them out to dry. We could not but admire here the ingenious nests of the flamingo; they are of a conical form, raised above the level of the marsh, having a recess above, in which the eggs are deposited, out of the reach of danger, and the female can sit on them with her legs in the water. These nests are of clay, and so solid, that they resist the water till the young are able to swim.

My wife agreed, and suggested that we take it to Flamingo Marsh. We spent the rest of the day bundling up the leaves. The next morning, we loaded our cart and headed to the marsh. There, we untied our bundles, spread them out in the water, weighted them down with stones, and left them until it was time to take them out to dry. We couldn't help but admire the clever nests of the flamingo; they are cone-shaped, raised above the water level, with a hollow area on top where the eggs are laid, safe from harm, and the female can sit on them with her legs in the water. These nests are made of clay and are so sturdy that they hold up against the water until the chicks are able to swim.

In a fortnight the flax was ready to be taken out of the water; we spread it in the sun, which dried it so effectually, that we brought it to Falcon’s Nest the same evening, where it was stored till we were ready for further operations. At present we laboured to lay up provision for the rainy season, leaving all sedentary occupations to amuse us in our confinement. We brought in continually loads of sweet acorns, manioc, potatoes, wood, fodder for the cattle, sugar-canes, fruit, indeed everything that might be useful during the uncertain period of the rainy season. We profited by the last few days to sow the wheat and other remaining European grains, that the rain might germinate them. We had already had some showers; the temperature was variable, the sky became cloudy, and the wind rose. The season changed sooner than we expected; the winds raged through the woods, the sea roared, mountains of clouds were piled in the heavens. They soon burst over our heads, and torrents of rain fell night and day, without intermission; the rivers swelled till their waters met, and turned the whole country around us into an immense lake. Happily we had formed our little establishment on a spot rather elevated above the rest of the valley; the waters did not quite reach our tree, but surrounded us about two hundred yards off, leaving us on a sort of island in the midst of the general inundation. We were reluctantly obliged to descend from our aërial abode; the rain entered it on all sides, and the hurricane threatened every moment to carry away the apartment, and all that were in it. We set about our removal, bringing down our hammocks and bedding to the sheltered space under the roots of the trees that we had roofed for the animals. We were painfully crowded in the small space; the stores of provisions, the cooking utensils, and especially the neighbourhood of the animals, and the various offensive smells, made our retreat almost insupportable. We were choked with smoke if we lighted a fire, and inundated with rain if we opened a door. For the first time since our misfortune, we sighed for the comforts of our native home; but action was necessary, and we set about endeavouring to amend our condition.

In two weeks, the flax was ready to be taken out of the water. We spread it out in the sun, which dried it so effectively that we brought it to Falcon’s Nest that same evening, where it was stored until we were ready for the next steps. Right now, we were focused on stocking up supplies for the rainy season, setting aside all sedentary tasks to keep ourselves entertained during our confinement. We constantly brought in loads of sweet acorns, manioc, potatoes, firewood, fodder for the cattle, sugarcane, and fruit—anything that might be useful during the unpredictable rainy season. We took advantage of the last few days to sow wheat and other remaining European grains so that the rain could help them germinate. We had already experienced some showers; the temperature was fluctuating, the sky turned cloudy, and the wind picked up. The season changed sooner than we had expected; the winds roared through the woods, the sea crashed, and massive clouds piled up in the sky. They soon burst above us, and torrents of rain fell day and night without stopping; the rivers swelled until their waters met, turning the entire area around us into a huge lake. Fortunately, we had set up our little establishment on a spot that was slightly elevated above the rest of the valley; the waters didn’t quite reach our tree but surrounded us about two hundred yards away, leaving us on a sort of island in the middle of the flooding. We were reluctantly forced to leave our lofty home; the rain came in from all sides, and the storm threatened at any moment to carry away the room and everyone in it. We started our move, bringing down our hammocks and bedding to the sheltered space under the tree roots that we had covered for the animals. We were uncomfortably cramped in the small space; the supplies, cooking utensils, and especially the proximity to the animals along with the various unpleasant smells made our retreat almost unbearable. We were suffocated by smoke whenever we lit a fire and drenched by rain if we opened a door. For the first time since our misfortune, we longed for the comforts of home; but we knew we had to take action and set about trying to improve our situation.

The winding staircase was very useful to us; the upper part was crowded with things we did not want, and my wife frequently worked in the lower part, at one of the windows. We crowded our beasts a little more, and gave a current of air to the places they had left. I placed outside the enclosure the animals of the country, which could bear the inclemency of the season; thus I gave a half-liberty to the buffalo and the onagra, tying their legs loosely, to prevent them straying, the boughs of the tree affording them a shelter. We made as few fires as possible, as, fortunately it was never cold, and we had no provisions that required a long process of cookery. We had milk in abundance, smoked meat, and fish, the preserved ortolans, and cassava cakes. As we sent out some of our animals in the morning, with bells round their necks, Fritz and I had to seek them and bring them in every evening, when we were invariably wet through. This induced my ingenious Elizabeth to make us a sort of blouse and hood out of old garments of the sailors, which we covered with coatings of the caoutchouc, and thus obtained two capital waterproof dresses; all that the exhausted state of our gum permitted us to make.

The spiral staircase was super helpful for us; the top part was filled with stuff we didn’t want, and my wife often worked down below at one of the windows. We crammed our animals in a bit more and let in some fresh air where they had been. I placed the local animals outside the enclosure, which could handle the harsh weather; this way, I gave a sort of freedom to the buffalo and the onager, loosely tying their legs to keep them from wandering while the tree branches gave them shelter. We tried to make as few fires as possible since it was never really cold, and we didn’t have any food requiring a long cooking time. We had plenty of milk, smoked meat, fish, preserved ortolans, and cassava cakes. Each morning, we sent some of our animals out with bells around their necks, and Fritz and I had to find and bring them back every evening, by which time we were always soaking wet. This led my clever wife Elizabeth to make us some sort of blouses and hoods out of the sailors' old clothes, which we coated with rubber, giving us two great waterproof outfits, all we could manage with the limited supply of rubber we had left.

The care of our animals occupied us a great part of the morning, then we prepared our cassava, and baked our cakes on iron plates. Though we had a glazed door to our hut, the gloominess of the weather, and the obscurity caused by the vast boughs of the tree, made night come on early. We then lighted a candle, fixed in a gourd on the table, round which we were all assembled. The good mother laboured with her needle, mending the clothes; I wrote my journal, which Ernest copied, as he wrote a beautiful hand; while Fritz and Jack taught their young brother to read and write, or amused themselves with drawing the animals or plants they had been struck with. We read the lessons from the Bible in turns, and concluded the evening with devotion. We then retired to rest, content with ourselves and with our innocent and peaceful life. Our kind housekeeper often made us a little feast of a roast chicken, a pigeon, or a duck, and once in four or five days we had fresh butter made in the gourd churn; and the delicious honey which we ate to our cassava bread might have been a treat to European epicures.

Taking care of our animals took up a big chunk of the morning, then we prepared our cassava and baked our cakes on iron plates. Even though we had a glazed door for our hut, the dreariness of the weather and the shade from the huge branches of the tree made it feel like nightfall came early. We lit a candle, placed in a gourd on the table, where we all gathered. Our caring mother worked with her needle, mending clothes; I wrote in my journal, which Ernest copied because he had beautiful handwriting; while Fritz and Jack taught their younger brother to read and write or entertained themselves by drawing the animals or plants that caught their attention. We took turns reading lessons from the Bible and ended the evening with some prayers. We then went to bed, feeling content with ourselves and our simple, peaceful life. Our thoughtful housekeeper often treated us to a little feast of roasted chicken, pigeon, or duck, and every four or five days, we had fresh butter made in the gourd churn; the delicious honey we had with our cassava bread could have easily delighted European food lovers.

The remains of our repast was always divided among our domestic animals. We had four dogs, the jackal, the eagle, and the monkey, who relied on their masters, and were never neglected. But if the buffalo, the onagra, and the sow had not been able to provide for themselves, we must have killed them, for we had no food for them.

The leftovers from our meal were always shared with our pets. We had four dogs, a jackal, an eagle, and a monkey, all of whom relied on us and were never ignored. But if the buffalo, the wild donkey, and the pig hadn’t been able to fend for themselves, we would have had to kill them because we had no food for them.

We now decided that we would not expose ourselves to another rainy season in such an unsuitable habitation; even my gentle Elizabeth got out of temper with the inconveniences, and begged we would build a better winter house; stipulating, however, that we should return to our tree in summer. We consulted a great deal on this matter; Fritz quoted Robinson Crusoe, who had cut a dwelling out of the rock, which sheltered him in the inclement season; and the idea of making our home at Tent House naturally came into my mind. It would probably be a long and difficult undertaking, but with time, patience, and perseverance, we might work wonders. We resolved, as soon as the weather would allow us, to go and examine the rocks at Tent House.

We decided that we wouldn’t put ourselves through another rainy season in such an unsuitable place. Even my kind Elizabeth was getting frustrated with the inconveniences and asked us to build a better winter house, but she insisted that we return to our tree in the summer. We discussed this a lot; Fritz referenced Robinson Crusoe, who had carved a home out of a rock that protected him during bad weather. This led me to think about making our home at Tent House. It would likely be a long and tough project, but with time, patience, and determination, we could achieve great things. We decided that as soon as the weather permitted, we would go check out the rocks at Tent House.

The last work of the winter was, at my wife’s incessant request, a beetle for her flax, and some carding-combs. The beetle was easily made, but the combs cost much trouble. I filed large nails till they were round and pointed, I fixed them, slightly inclined, at equal distances, in a sheet of tin, and raised the edge like a box; I then poured melted lead between the nails and the edge, to fix them more firmly. I nailed this on a board, and the machine was fit for use, and my wife was all anxiety to begin her manufacture.

The last task of winter was, at my wife's constant insistence, to make a beetle for her flax and some carding combs. The beetle was easy to make, but the combs took a lot of effort. I filed large nails until they were round and pointed, then I fixed them, slightly angled, at equal distances in a sheet of tin and raised the edge to create a box. I then poured melted lead between the nails and the edge to secure them more firmly. I nailed this onto a board, and the machine was ready to use, leaving my wife eager to start her project.


CHAPTER XXIX.

I cannot describe our delight when, after long and gloomy weeks, we saw at length the sky clear, and the sun, dispersing the dark clouds of winter, spread its vivifying rays over all nature; the winds were lulled, the waters subsided, and the air became mild and serene. We went out, with shouts of joy, to breathe the balmy air, and gratified our eyes with the sight of the fresh verdure already springing up around us. Nature seemed in her youth again, and amidst the charms that breathed on every side, we forgot our sufferings, and, like the children of Noah coming forth from the ark, we raised a hymn of thanksgiving to the Giver of all good.

I can’t explain how happy we felt when, after weeks of gloom, we finally saw the sky clear up. The sun broke through, scattering the dreary winter clouds and shining its life-giving rays over everything. The winds calmed down, the waters settled, and the air turned mild and peaceful. We rushed outside, cheering with joy, to enjoy the pleasant air and admired the fresh greenery starting to grow all around us. Nature seemed young again, and amid all the beauty surrounding us, we forgot our pain. Like Noah’s children stepping out of the ark, we lifted up a song of thanks to the Giver of all good.

All our plantations and seeds had prospered. The corn was springing, and the trees were covered with leaves and blossoms. The air was perfumed with the odour of countless beautiful flowers; and lively with the songs and cries of hundreds of brilliant birds, all busy building their nests. This was really spring in all its glory.

All our farms and seeds were thriving. The corn was sprouting, and the trees were full of leaves and blossoms. The air was fragrant with the scent of countless beautiful flowers and alive with the songs and calls of hundreds of vibrant birds, all busy making their nests. This was truly spring at its finest.

We began our summer occupation by cleaning and putting in order our dormitory in the tree, which the rain and the scattered leaves had greatly deranged; and in a few days we were able to inhabit it again. My wife immediately began with her flax; while my sons were leading the cattle to the pasture, I took the bundles of flax into the open air, where I constructed a sort of oven of stone, which dried it completely. We began that very evening to strip, beat, and comb it; and I drew out such handfuls of soft, fine flax, ready for spinning, that my wife was overjoyed, and begged me to make her a wheel, that she might commence.

We kicked off our summer by cleaning up our treehouse dorm, which had gotten pretty messy from the rain and fallen leaves. After a few days, we could move back in. My wife immediately got to work on her flax, while my sons took the cattle out to pasture. I carried the bundles of flax outside and built a stone oven to dry it completely. That very evening, we started stripping, beating, and combing it, and I pulled out handfuls of soft, fine flax, ready for spinning. My wife was thrilled and asked me to make her a wheel so she could get started.

I had formerly had a little taste for turning, and though I had now neither lathe nor any other of the tools, yet I knew how a spinning-wheel and reel should be made, and, by dint of application, I succeeded in completing these two machines to her satisfaction. She began to spin with so much earnestness, that she would hardly take a walk, and reluctantly left her wheel to make dinner ready. She employed Francis to reel off the thread as she spun it, and would willingly have had the elder boys to take her place when she was called off; but they rebelled at the effeminate work, except Ernest, whose indolent habits made him prefer it to more laborious occupation.

I used to enjoy woodworking, and even though I didn't have a lathe or any tools now, I knew how to make a spinning wheel and a reel. After some effort, I managed to finish both machines to her satisfaction. She started spinning with such enthusiasm that she barely took time for walks and reluctantly left her wheel to prepare dinner. She got Francis to help reel off the thread while she spun, and she would have liked to have the older boys take her place when she needed to step away, but they refused to do what they considered feminine work, except for Ernest, whose lazy habits made him prefer it to more demanding tasks.

In the mean time we walked over to Tent House to see the state of things, and found that winter had done more damage there than at Falcon’s Nest. The storm had overthrown the tent, carried away some of the sailcloth, and injured our provisions so much, that great part was good for nothing, and the rest required to be immediately dried. Fortunately our beautiful pinnace had not suffered much,—it was still safe at anchor, and fit for use; but our tub boat was entirely destroyed.

In the meantime, we walked over to Tent House to check on things and found that winter had caused more damage there than at Falcon’s Nest. The storm had knocked down the tent, taken some of the sailcloth away, and damaged our supplies so much that a large part was useless, and the rest needed to be dried out immediately. Luckily, our beautiful pinnace hadn’t suffered much—it was still safe at anchor and ready to use; however, our tub boat was completely destroyed.

Our most important loss was two barrels of gunpowder, which had been left in the tent, instead of under the shelter of the rock, and which the rain had rendered wholly useless. This made us feel still more strongly the necessity of securing for the future a more suitable shelter than a canvas tent, or a roof of foliage. Still I had small hope from the gigantic plan of Fritz or the boldness of Jack. I could not be blind to the difficulties of the undertaking. The rocks which surrounded Tent House presented an unbroken surface, like a wall without any crevice, and, to all appearance, of so hard a nature as to leave little hopes of success. However, it was necessary to try to contrive some sort of cave, if only for our gunpowder. I made up my mind, and selected the most perpendicular face of the rock as the place to begin our work. It was a much pleasanter situation than our tent, commanding a view of the whole bay, and the two banks of Jackal River, with its picturesque bridge. I marked out with chalk the dimension of the entrance I wished to give to the cave; then my sons and I took our chisels, pickaxes, and heavy miner’s hammers, and began boldly to hew the stone.

Our biggest loss was two barrels of gunpowder that we had left in the tent instead of under the rock for shelter, and the rain had completely ruined them. This reinforced our need for better protection in the future than a canvas tent or a roof made of leaves. Still, I didn’t have much faith in Fritz’s grand scheme or Jack's adventurous spirit. I couldn’t ignore the challenges we faced. The rocks around Tent House were smooth and steep, like a wall without any cracks, and seemed so solid that it didn’t give us much hope for success. However, we had to try to create some kind of cave, at least to store our gunpowder. I resolved to start working and chose the steepest part of the rock as our starting point. It was a much nicer spot than our tent, offering a view of the entire bay and both sides of Jackal River, complete with its charming bridge. I marked out the size of the entrance I wanted for the cave with chalk, and then my sons and I grabbed our chisels, pickaxes, and heavy hammers and set to work on the rock.

Our first blows produced very little effect; the rock seemed impenetrable, the sun had so hardened the surface; and the sweat poured off our brows with the hard labour. Nevertheless, the efforts of my young workmen did not relax. Every evening we left our work advanced, perhaps, a few inches; and every morning returned to the task with renewed ardour. At the end of five or six days, when the surface of the rock was removed, we found the stone become easier to work; it then seemed calcarious, and, finally, only a sort of hardened clay, which we could remove with spades; and we began to hope. After a few days’ more labour, we found we had advanced about seven feet. Fritz wheeled out the rubbish, and formed a sort of terrace with it before the opening; while I was working at the higher part, Jack, as the least, worked below. One morning he was hammering an iron bar, which he had pointed at the end, into the rock, to loosen the earth, when he suddenly cried out—

Our first strikes had very little impact; the rock felt impenetrable, and the sun had hardened the surface. Sweat dripped from our brows as we worked hard. Still, my young crew didn’t give up. Every evening we left our work having moved forward perhaps a few inches, and every morning we returned to the task with renewed energy. After five or six days, once we cleared the rock's surface, we discovered the stone was easier to work with; it seemed to be limestone and eventually only resembled hardened clay that we could remove with shovels. Hope started to build. After a few more days of labor, we found we had progressed about seven feet. Fritz cleared the debris and created a sort of terrace in front of the entrance while I worked on the higher part, and Jack, being the smallest, worked below. One morning, he was pounding an iron bar that he had sharpened at the end into the rock to loosen the dirt when he suddenly shouted—

“Papa! papa! I have pierced through!”

“Dad! Dad! I made it!”

“Not through your hand, child?” asked I.

“Not through your hand, kid?” I asked.

“No, papa!” cried he; “I have pierced through the mountain! Huzza!”

“No, Dad!” he yelled; “I’ve made it through the mountain! Hooray!”

Fritz ran in at the shout, and told him he had better have said at once that he had pierced through the earth! But Jack persisted that, however his brother might laugh, he was quite sure he had felt his iron bar enter an empty space behind. I now came down from my ladder, and, moving the bar, I felt there was really a hollow into which the rubbish fell, but apparently very little below the level we were working on. I took a long pole and probed the cavity, and found that it must be of considerable size. My boys wished to have the opening enlarged and to enter immediately, but this I strictly forbade; for, as I leaned forward to examine it through the opening, a rush of mephitic air gave me a sort of vertigo. “Come away, children,” cried I, in terror; “the air you would breathe there is certain death.” I explained to them that, under certain circumstances, carbonic acid gas was frequently accumulated in caves or grottoes, rendering the air unfit for respiration; producing giddiness of the head, fainting, and eventually death. I sent them to collect some hay, which I lighted and threw into the cave; this was immediately extinguished; we repeated the experiment several times with the same result. I now saw that more active means must be resorted to.

Fritz ran in at the shout and told him he should have said right away that he had dug through the earth! But Jack insisted that, no matter how much his brother laughed, he was sure he had felt his iron bar hit an empty space behind. I came down from my ladder and, moving the bar, I felt that there really was a hollow where the rubble fell, but it seemed to be just beneath the level we were working on. I took a long pole and probed the cavity, discovering it must be of considerable size. My boys wanted to enlarge the opening and go inside immediately, but I strictly forbade it; as I leaned forward to check it out through the opening, a wave of toxic air made me feel dizzy. “Come away, kids,” I shouted in panic; “the air you’d breathe in there is certain death.” I explained to them that, under certain conditions, carbon dioxide gas often collected in caves or grottoes, making the air unbreathable; it could cause dizziness, fainting, and eventually death. I sent them to gather some hay, which I lit and threw into the cave; it was immediately extinguished. We repeated the experiment several times with the same outcome. I realized that more active measures needed to be taken.

We had brought from the vessel a box of fireworks, intended for signals; I threw into the cave, by a cord, a quantity of rockets, grenades, &c., and scattered a train of gunpowder from them; to this I applied a long match, and we retired to a little distance. This succeeded well; a great explosion agitated the air, a torrent of the carbonic acid gas rushed through the opening, and was replaced by the pure air; we sent in a few more rockets, which flew round like fiery dragons, disclosing to us the vast extent of the cave. A shower of stars, which concluded our experiment, made us wish the duration had been longer. It seemed as if a crowd of winged genii, carrying each a lamp, were floating about in that enchanted cavern. When they vanished, I threw in some more lighted hay, which blazed in such a lively manner, that I knew all danger was over from the gas; but, for fear of deep pits, or pools of water, I would not venture in without lights. I therefore despatched Jack, on his buffalo, to report this discovery to his mother, and bring all the candles she had made. I purposely sent Jack on the errand, for his lively and poetic turn of mind would, I hoped, invest the grotto with such charms, that his mother would even abandon her wheel to come and see it.

We brought a box of fireworks from the ship, meant for signals. I threw a bunch of rockets, grenades, and other items into the cave via a cord and spread a trail of gunpowder from them. I lit it with a long match and we stepped back a bit. It worked great; a huge explosion shook the air, a rush of carbon dioxide blasted out through the opening, and was replaced by fresh air. We sent in a few more rockets that flew around like fiery dragons, revealing the vastness of the cave. A shower of stars at the end of our experiment made us wish it had lasted longer. It felt like a group of winged spirits, each carrying a lamp, were floating around in that magical cave. When they disappeared, I tossed in more lit hay, which blazed so brightly that I knew we were safe from the gas. But, to avoid any deep pits or water pools, I didn’t want to go in without lights. So, I sent Jack on his buffalo to tell his mom about this discovery and bring back all the candles she had made. I specifically sent Jack because I hoped his lively and poetic imagination would make the grotto seem so enchanting that his mom would drop her spinning and come to see it.


“This succeeded well; a great explosion agitated the air—a torrent of the carbonic acid gas rushed through the opening.”


“This worked out well; a huge explosion shook the air—a rush of carbon dioxide burst through the opening.”

Delighted with his commission, Jack leaped upon his buffalo, and, waving his whip, galloped off with an intrepidity that made my hair stand on end. During his absence, Fritz and I enlarged the opening, to make it easy of access, removed all the rubbish, and swept a road for mamma. We had just finished, when we heard the sound of wheels crossing the bridge, and the cart appeared, drawn by the cow and ass, led by Ernest. Jack rode before on his buffalo, blowing through his hand to imitate a horn, and whipping the lazy cow and ass. He rode up first, and alighted from his huge courser, to help his mother out.

Excited about his mission, Jack jumped onto his buffalo and, waving his whip, charged off with a boldness that made my hair stand on end. While he was away, Fritz and I widened the entrance to make it easier to get through, cleared away all the debris, and swept a path for mom. We had just wrapped up when we heard the sound of wheels on the bridge, and the cart came into view, pulled by the cow and donkey, with Ernest leading them. Jack rode ahead on his buffalo, pretending to blow a horn and cracking the whip at the lazy cow and donkey. He reached the spot first, dismounted from his massive mount, and helped his mother out.

I then lighted our candles, giving one to each, with a spare candle and flint and steel in our pockets. We took our arms, and proceeded in a solemn manner into the rock. I walked first, my sons followed, and their mother came last, with Francis. We had not gone on above a few steps, when we stopped, struck with wonder and admiration; all was glittering around us; we were in a grotto of diamonds! From the height of the lofty vaulted roof hung innumerable crystals, which, uniting with those on the walls, formed colonnades, altars, and every sort of gothic ornament of dazzling lustre, creating a fairy palace, or an illuminated temple.

I then lit our candles, giving one to each of us, with an extra candle and flint and steel in our pockets. We took our weapons and proceeded solemnly into the rock. I walked first, my sons followed, and their mother came last, with Francis. We had only taken a few steps when we stopped, struck with wonder and admiration; everything around us was glittering; we were in a grotto of diamonds! From the height of the lofty vaulted ceiling hung countless crystals, which, joining those on the walls, formed colonnades, altars, and all kinds of gothic decorations of dazzling brilliance, creating a fairy palace or an illuminated temple.

When we were a little recovered from our first astonishment, we advanced with more confidence. The grotto was spacious, the floor smooth, and covered with a fine dry sand. From the appearance of these crystals, I suspected their nature, and, on breaking off a piece and tasting it, I found, to my great joy, that we were in a grotto of rock salt, which is found in large masses in the earth, usually above a bed of gypsum, and surrounded by fossils. We were charmed with this discovery, of which we could no longer have a doubt. What an advantage this was to our cattle, and to ourselves! We could now procure this precious commodity without care or labour. The acquisition was almost as valuable as this brilliant retreat was in itself, of which we were never tired of admiring the beauty. My wife was struck with our good fortune in opening the rock precisely at the right spot; but I was of opinion, that this mine was of great extent, and that we could not well have missed it. Some blocks of salt were scattered on the ground, which had apparently fallen from the vaulted roof. I was alarmed; for such an accident might destroy one of my children; but, on examination, I found the mass above too solid to be detached spontaneously, and I concluded that the explosion of the fireworks had given this shock to the subterranean palace, which had not been entered since the creation of the world. I feared there might yet be some pieces loosened; I therefore sent out my wife and younger sons. Fritz and I remained, and, after carefully examining the suspected parts, we fired our guns, and watched the effect; one or two pieces fell, but the rest remained firm, though we struck with long poles as high as we could reach. We were now satisfied of the security of our magnificent abode, and began to plan our arrangements for converting it into a convenient and pleasant habitation. The majority were for coming here immediately, but the wiser heads determined that, for this year, Falcon’s Nest was to continue our home. There we went every night, and spent the day at Tent House, contriving and arranging our future winter dwelling.

Once we got over our initial shock, we moved forward with more confidence. The grotto was spacious, the floor was smooth, and it was covered with fine dry sand. Based on the look of these crystals, I had an idea of what they were, and after breaking off a piece and tasting it, I was thrilled to discover that we were in a rock salt grotto, which can be found in large masses underground, typically above a layer of gypsum and surrounded by fossils. We were delighted with this find and had no doubt about it. What a benefit this was for our cattle and for us! We could now obtain this valuable resource without any trouble or effort. The discovery was almost as precious as the stunning grotto itself, which we never tired of admiring. My wife was amazed by our luck in finding the rock at exactly the right spot; however, I believed that the mine was quite extensive and that we could hardly have missed it. Some chunks of salt were scattered on the ground, apparently having fallen from the vaulted ceiling. I became concerned; an accident like that could injure one of my children. However, on closer inspection, I found that the mass above was too solid to have fallen on its own, and I concluded that the fireworks had caused this shock to the underground palace that hadn’t been entered since the world began. I worried there might still be some loose pieces, so I sent my wife and younger sons outside. Fritz and I stayed behind, and after carefully checking the areas we were unsure about, we fired our guns and watched what happened; one or two pieces fell, but the majority stayed put, even though we poked with long poles as high as we could reach. Now we felt confident about the safety of our beautiful home and began planning how to turn it into a comfortable and inviting place to live. Most wanted to move in right away, but the more sensible folks decided that we should stay at Falcon’s Nest for this year. Every night we headed back there and spent the days at Tent House, designing and organizing our future winter home.


CHAPTER XXX.

The last bed of rock, before we reached the cave which Jack had pierced, was so soft, and easy to work, that we had little difficulty in proportioning and opening the place for our door; I hoped that, being now exposed to the heat of the sun, it would soon become as hard as the original surface. The door was that we had used for the staircase at Falcon’s Nest; for as we only intended to make a temporary residence of our old tree, there was no necessity for solid fittings; and, besides, I intended to close the entrance of the tree by a door of bark, more effectually to conceal it, in case savages should visit us. I then laid out the extent of the grotto at pleasure, for we had ample space. We began by dividing it into two parts; that on the right of the entrance was to be our dwelling; on the left were, first, our kitchen, then the workshop and the stables; behind these were the store-rooms and the cellar. In order to give light and air to our apartments, it was necessary to insert in the rock the windows we had brought from the ship; and this cost us many days of labour. The right-hand portion was subdivided into three rooms: the first our own bedroom; the middle, the common sitting-room, and beyond the boys’ room. As we had only three windows, we appropriated one to each bedroom, and the third to the kitchen, contenting ourselves, at present, with a grating in the dining-room. I constructed a sort of chimney in the kitchen, formed of four boards, and conducted the smoke thus, through a hole made in the face of the rock. We made bur work-room spacious enough for us to carry on all our manufactures, and it served also for our cart-house. Finally, all the partition-walls were put up, communicating by doors, and completing our commodious habitation. These various labours, the removal of our effects, and arranging them again, all the confusion of a change when it was necessary to be at once workmen and directors, took us a great part of summer; but the recollection of the vexations we should escape in the rainy season gave us energy.

The last layer of rock, just before we reached the cave that Jack had made, was so soft and easy to work with that we had no trouble fitting it and making an opening for our door. I hoped that, now exposed to the sun, it would soon harden like the original surface. The door was the one we had used for the staircase at Falcon’s Nest; since we only intended to make a temporary home out of our old tree, there was no need for solid fixtures. Plus, I planned to cover the tree's entrance with a bark door to hide it better in case any savages came by. I then laid out the size of the grotto to my liking, as we had plenty of space. We started by splitting it into two sections; the area on the right of the entrance would be our living space, while on the left we would have our kitchen, followed by the workshop and stables. Behind those, we would set up the store-rooms and the cellar. To let in light and air, we needed to cut into the rock for the windows we'd brought from the ship, which took us many days of hard work. The right side was divided into three rooms: our bedroom, a common sitting room in the middle, and the boys’ room at the end. Since we only had three windows, we assigned one to each bedroom and the third to the kitchen, settling for a grate in the dining room for now. I built a sort of chimney in the kitchen using four boards and channeled the smoke through a hole I made in the rock face. We made our workshop big enough to handle all our projects, and it also served as our cart storage. In the end, we put up all the partition walls connected by doors, completing our comfortable home. These various tasks, along with moving our things and rearranging them, created a lot of chaos as we had to be both laborers and managers, which took up much of our summer. However, the thought of avoiding the frustrations of the rainy season kept us motivated.

We passed nearly all our time at Tent House, the centre of our operations; and, besides the gardens and plantations which surrounded it, we found many advantages which we profited by. Large turtles often came to deposit their eggs in the sand, a pleasant treat for us; but we raised our desires to the possession of the turtles themselves, living, to eat when we chose. As soon as we saw one on the shore, one of my sons ran to cut off its retreat. We then hastened to assist, turned the creature on its back, passed a long cord through its shell, and tied it firmly to a post close to the water. We then placed it on its legs, when of course it made for the water, but could only ramble the length of its cord; it seemed, however, very content, and we had it in readiness when we wanted it. The lobsters, crabs, mussles, and every sort of fish which abounded on the coast, plentifully supplied our table. One morning, we were struck with an extraordinary spectacle: a large portion of the sea appeared in a state of ebullition, and immense flocks of marine birds were hovering over it, uttering piercing cries, and plunging into the waves. From time to time the surface, on which the rising sun now shone, seemed covered with little flames, which rapidly appeared and vanished. Suddenly, this extraordinary mass advanced to the bay; and we ran down, fall of curiosity. We found, on our arrival, that this strange phenomenon was caused by a shoal of herrings. These shoals are so dense, that they are often taken for sand-banks, are many leagues in extent, and several feet in depth: they spread themselves over the seas, carrying to barren shores the resources that nature has denied them.

We spent almost all our time at Tent House, the hub of our activities; and, in addition to the gardens and fields around it, we found many benefits that we enjoyed. Large turtles frequently came to lay their eggs in the sand, which was a nice treat for us; but we set our sights on capturing the turtles themselves, alive, so we could eat them whenever we wanted. As soon as we spotted one on the shore, one of my sons would rush to block its escape. We would then quickly help out, flip the turtle onto its back, thread a long cord through its shell, and tie it securely to a post near the water. Once we set it on its legs, it naturally tried to head for the water, but could only move as far as the length of its cord; it seemed pretty content, and we had it ready whenever we needed it. The lobsters, crabs, mussels, and all kinds of fish that were plentiful along the coast provided us with plenty of food. One morning, we were astonished by an incredible sight: a large area of the sea appeared to be boiling, and huge flocks of seabirds were circling above it, making loud cries and diving into the waves. From time to time, the surface, now illuminated by the rising sun, seemed to be covered with little flames that quickly appeared and disappeared. Suddenly, this astonishing mass moved toward the bay, and we hurried down, full of curiosity. When we got there, we discovered that this unusual phenomenon was caused by a school of herring. These schools are so thick that they're often mistaken for sandbanks, stretching for many leagues and several feet deep; they spread across the seas, bringing resources to barren shores that nature has denied them.

These brilliant, scaly creatures had now entered the bay, and my wife and children were lost in admiration of the wonderful sight; but I reminded them, that when Providence sends plenty, we ought to put forth our hands to take it. I sent immediately for the necessary utensils, and organized my fishery. Fritz and Jack stood in the water, and such was the thickness of the shoal, that they filled baskets, taking them up as you would water in a pail; they threw them on the sand; my wife and Ernest cut them open, cleaned them, and rubbed them with salt; I arranged them in small barrels, a layer of herrings and a layer of salt; and when the barrel was full, the ass, led by Francis, took them up to the storehouse. This labour occupied us several days, and at the end of that time we had a dozen barrels of excellent salt provision against the winter season.

These amazing, scaly creatures had now entered the bay, and my wife and kids were in awe of the stunning sight; but I reminded them that when opportunity comes our way, we should reach out and seize it. I quickly sent for the necessary tools and set up my fishing operation. Fritz and Jack stood in the water, and the school of fish was so thick that they filled baskets as easily as scooping water with a bucket; they tossed the fish onto the sand; my wife and Ernest cut them open, cleaned them, and salted them; I arranged them in small barrels, adding a layer of herrings followed by a layer of salt; and when the barrel was full, the donkey, led by Francis, carried them to the storage shed. This work kept us busy for several days, and by the end, we had a dozen barrels of excellent salted provisions ready for the winter.

The refuse of this fishery, which we threw into the sea, attracted a number of sea-dogs; we killed several for the sake of the skin and the oil, which would be useful to burn in lamps, or even as an ingredient in soap, which I hoped to make at some future time.

The waste from this fishery that we tossed into the sea attracted a number of sharks; we killed several for their skin and oil, which would be useful for lighting lamps or even as an ingredient in soap, which I planned to make at some point in the future.

At this time I greatly improved my sledge, by placing it on two small wheels belonging to the guns of the ship, making it a light and commodious carriage, and so low, that we could easily place heavy weights on it. Satisfied with our labours, we returned very happy to Falcon’s Nest, to spend our Sunday, and to thank God heartily for all the blessings he had given us.

At this point, I significantly upgraded my sled by attaching it to two small wheels from the ship's cannons, transforming it into a lightweight and spacious cart. It was so low that we could easily load heavy items onto it. Happy with our work, we returned to Falcon's Nest, eager to spend our Sunday and sincerely thank God for all the blessings He had given us.


CHAPTER XXXI.

We went on with our labours but slowly, as many employments diverted us from the great work. I had discovered that the crystals of salt in our grotto had a bed of gypsum for their base, from which I hoped to obtain a great advantage. I was fortunate enough to discover, behind a projecting rock, a natural passage leading to our store-room, strewed with fragments of gypsum. I took some of it to the kitchen, and by repeated burnings calcined it, and reduced it to a fine white powder, which I put into casks, and carefully preserved for use. My intention was, to form our partition-walls of square stones, cemented with the gypsum. I employed my sons daily to collect this, till we had amassed a large quantity; using some, in the first place, effectually to cover our herring-barrels. Four barrels were salted and covered in this way; the rest my wife smoked in a little hut of reeds and branches, in the midst of which the herrings were laid on sticks, and exposed to the smoke of a fire of green moss kindled below. This dried them, and gave them the peculiar flavour so agreeable to many.

We continued with our work, but it was slow since various tasks pulled us away from the main project. I found out that the salt crystals in our cave were sitting on a base of gypsum, which I thought could be very useful. Luckily, I discovered a natural passage behind a jutting rock that led to our storage room, filled with pieces of gypsum. I took some to the kitchen and repeatedly heated it until it turned into a fine white powder, which I stored in barrels for later use. My plan was to build our walls with square stones glued together using the gypsum. I had my sons gather it daily until we had a good amount; we first used some to effectively cover our herring barrels. Four barrels were salted and covered this way, while my wife smoked the rest in a small hut made of reeds and branches, where the herrings were placed on sticks, exposed to the smoke from a fire made of green moss below. This dried the fish and gave them the unique flavor that many people enjoy.

We were visited by another shoal of fish a month after that of the herrings. Jack first discovered them at the mouth of Jackal River, where they had apparently come to deposit their eggs among the scattered stones. They were so large, that he was sure they must be whales. I found them to be pretty large sturgeons, besides salmon, large trout, and many other fishes. Jack immediately ran for his bow and arrows, and told me he would kill them all. He fastened the end of a ball of string to an arrow, with a hook at the end of it; he tied the bladders of the dog-fish at certain distances to the string; he then placed the ball safe on the shore, took his bow, fixed the arrow in it, and aiming at the largest salmon, shot it in the side; the fish tried to escape; I assisted him to draw the cord; it was no easy task, for he struggled tremendously; but at length, weakened by loss of blood, we drew him to land, and despatched him.

A month after the herring came by, we were visited by another group of fish. Jack spotted them first at the mouth of Jackal River, where they seemed to have come to lay their eggs among the scattered stones. They were so big that he was convinced they had to be whales. I realized they were actually large sturgeons, along with salmon, big trout, and many other types of fish. Jack immediately ran to grab his bow and arrows, saying he would catch them all. He attached a ball of string to an arrow, with a hook at the end; he tied some dogfish bladders to the string at different intervals. Then he placed the ball safely on the shore, took his bow, readied the arrow, and aimed at the largest salmon, shooting it in the side. The fish tried to swim away, and I helped him pull the line; it was tough, as it fought hard, but eventually, weakened from blood loss, we brought it to shore and finished it off.

The other boys came running up to congratulate the young fisherman on his invention, and as it was to be feared that the rest, alarmed by this attack, might take their departure, we determined to abandon everything for the fishery. Fritz threw his harpoon, and landed, by means of the reel, some large salmon; Ernest took his rod, and caught trout; and I, armed like Neptune with an iron trident, succeeded in striking, amongst the stones, some enormous fish. The greatest difficulty was to land our booty; Fritz had struck a sturgeon at least eight feet long, which resisted our united efforts, till my wife brought the buffalo, which we harnessed to the line, and made ourselves masters of this immense prize.

The other boys ran over to congratulate the young fisherman on his invention, and since we worried that the rest might leave in alarm from this excitement, we decided to abandon everything else for fishing. Fritz threw his harpoon and, using the reel, caught some large salmon; Ernest took his rod and caught trout; and I, equipped like Neptune with an iron trident, managed to strike some massive fish among the rocks. The biggest challenge was getting our catches to shore; Fritz had hooked a sturgeon that was at least eight feet long, and it resisted our combined efforts until my wife brought the buffalo, which we harnessed to the line, allowing us to claim this enormous prize.

We had a great deal of labour in opening and cleaning all our fish: some we dried and salted; some my wife boiled in oil, as they preserve the tunny. The spawn of the sturgeon, a huge mass, weighing not less than thirty pounds, I laid aside to prepare as caviare, a favourite dish in Holland and Russia. I carefully cleansed the eggs from the skin and fibres that were mixed with them, washed them thoroughly in sea-water, slightly sprinkled them with salt, then put them in a gourd pierced with small holes to let the water escape, and placed weights on them to press them completely for twenty-four hours. We then removed the caviare in solid masses, like cheeses, took it to the smoking-hut to dry, and in a few days had this large addition to our winter provision.

We worked hard to clean and prepare all our fish. We dried and salted some, while my wife cooked others in oil, like they do with tuna. I set aside the sturgeon's roe, a massive amount weighing at least thirty pounds, to make caviar, a popular dish in Holland and Russia. I carefully removed the skin and fibers from the eggs, washed them thoroughly in sea water, lightly salted them, then placed them in a gourd with small holes to let the water drain out. I added weights on top to press them for twenty-four hours. Afterward, we took the caviar out in solid blocks, like cheeses, and brought it to the smoking hut to dry. In just a few days, we had this big addition to our winter supplies.

My next employment was the preparation of the valuable isinglass. I took the air-bladder and sounds of the fish, cut them in strips, twisted them in rolls, and dried them in the sun. This is all that is necessary to prepare this excellent glue. It becomes very hard, and, when wanted for use, is cut up in small pieces, and dissolved over a slow fire. The glue was so white and transparent, that I hoped to make window-panes from it instead of glass.

My next job involved preparing the valuable isinglass. I took the air-bladder and sounds of the fish, cut them into strips, twisted them into rolls, and dried them in the sun. That’s all it takes to prepare this great glue. It gets really hard, and when it’s needed, it's cut into small pieces and dissolved over a low flame. The glue was so white and transparent that I hoped to make window panes from it instead of glass.

After this work was finished, we began to plan a boat to replace our tub raft. I wished to try to make one of bark, as the savage nations do, and I proposed to make an expedition in search of a tree for our purpose. All those in our own neighbourhood were too precious to destroy; some for their fruits, others for their shade. We resolved to search at a distance for trees fit for our purpose, taking in our road a survey of our plantations and fields. Our garden at Tent House produced abundantly continual successions of vegetables in that virgin soil, and in a climate which recognized no change of season. The peas, beans, lentils, and lettuces were flourishing, and only required water, and our channels from the river brought this plentifully to us. We had delicious cucumbers and melons; the maize was already a foot high, the sugar-canes were prospering, and the pine-apples on the high ground promised us a rich treat.

After we finished this work, we started planning a boat to replace our raft. I wanted to try making one out of bark, like the indigenous people do, and I suggested we go on an expedition to find a suitable tree. All the trees in our neighborhood were too valuable to cut down; some for their fruit, others for their shade. We decided to look further away for trees that would work for us while also checking on our crops and fields along the way. Our garden at Tent House was producing plenty of vegetables in that rich soil and in a climate with no seasonal changes. The peas, beans, lentils, and lettuces were thriving and just needed water, which we easily got from our channels connected to the river. We had tasty cucumbers and melons; the corn was already a foot tall, the sugarcane was doing well, and the pineapples on higher ground promised us a delicious treat.

We hoped our distant plantations were going on as well, and all set out one fine morning to Falcon’s Nest, to examine the state of things there. We found my wife’s corn-fields were luxuriant in appearance, and for the most part ready for cutting. There were barley, wheat, oats, beans, millet, and lentils. We cut such of these as were ready, sufficient to give us seeds for another year. The richest crop was the maize, which suited the soil. But there were a quantity of gatherers more eager to taste these new productions than we were; these were birds of every kind, from the bustard to the quail, and from the various establishments they had formed round, it might be presumed they would not leave much for us.

We hoped our distant farms were thriving, so one beautiful morning, we set out for Falcon’s Nest to check on things. We found my wife's cornfields looking lush and mostly ready for harvest. There were barley, wheat, oats, beans, millet, and lentils. We cut what was ready, enough to give us seeds for next year. The best crop was the maize, which thrived in the soil. But there were plenty of gatherers more eager to sample these new yields than we were; birds of all kinds, from bustards to quails, and based on the nests they had built around, it was clear they wouldn't leave much for us.

After our first shock at the sight of these robbers, we used some measures to lessen the number of them. Fritz unhooded his eagle, and pointed out the dispersing bustards. The well-trained bird immediately soared, and pounced on a superb bustard, and laid it at the feet of its master. The jackal, too, who was a capital pointer, brought to his master about a dozen little fat quails, which furnished us with an excellent repast; to which my wife added a liquor of her own invention, made of the green maize crushed in water, and mingled with the juice of the sugar-cane; a most agreeable beverage, white as milk, sweet and refreshing.

After we got over our initial shock at the sight of these robbers, we took some steps to reduce their number. Fritz took the hood off his eagle and pointed out the scattering bustards. The well-trained bird took off immediately, diving down to catch a beautiful bustard and bringing it back to its master. The jackal, who was a great pointer, also brought his master about a dozen plump quails, which provided us with an excellent meal; my wife added a drink of her own creation, made from crushed green maize mixed with sugar cane juice; it was a delightful beverage, white as milk, sweet, and refreshing.

We found the bustard, which the eagle had struck down, but slightly wounded; we washed his hurts with a balsam made of wine, butter, and water, and tied him by the leg in the poultry-yard, as a companion to our tame bustard.

We found the bustard that the eagle had taken down, but it was only slightly injured. We cleaned its wounds with a mixture of wine, butter, and water, and tied it by the leg in the poultry yard as a companion for our tame bustard.

We passed the remainder of the day at Falcon’s Nest, putting our summer abode into order, and thrashing out our grain, to save the precious seed for another year. The Turkey wheat was laid by in sheaves, till we should have time to thrash and winnow it; and then I told Fritz that it would be necessary to put the hand-mill in order, that we had brought from the wreck. Fritz thought we could build a mill ourselves on the river; but this bold scheme was, at present, impracticable.

We spent the rest of the day at Falcon’s Nest, organizing our summer home and threshing our grain to save the valuable seed for next year. The Turkey wheat was stacked in sheaves until we had time to thresh and winnow it. I then told Fritz it was important to fix the hand mill we had salvaged from the wreck. Fritz suggested that we could build a mill ourselves by the river, but that ambitious plan was not feasible at the moment.

The next day we set out on an excursion in the neighbourhood. My wife wished to establish colonies of our animals at some distance from Falcon’s Nest, at a convenient spot, where they would be secure, and might find subsistence. She selected from her poultry-yard twelve young fowls; I took four young pigs, two couple of sheep, and two goats. These animals were placed in the cart, in which we had previously placed our provisions of every kind, and the tools and utensils we might need, not forgetting the rope ladder and the portable tent; we then harnessed the buffalo, the cow, and the ass, and departed on our tour.

The next day we set out on an outing in the neighborhood. My wife wanted to establish colonies of our animals some distance away from Falcon’s Nest, in a safe spot where they could thrive and find food. She chose twelve young chickens from her poultry yard; I grabbed four piglets, two pairs of sheep, and two goats. We loaded these animals into the cart, where we had already packed all our supplies and any tools and utensils we might need, including the rope ladder and the portable tent. Then we harnessed the buffalo, the cow, and the donkey, and set off on our journey.

Fritz rode before on Lightfoot, to reconnoitre the ground, that we might not plunge into any difficulties; as, this time, we went in a new direction, exactly in the midst between the rocks and the shore, that we might get acquainted with the whole of the country that stretched to Cape Disappointment. We had the usual difficulty, at first, in getting through the high grass, and the underwood embarrassed our road, till we were compelled to use the axe frequently. I made some trifling discoveries that were useful, while engaged in this labour; amongst others, some roots of trees curved like saddles, and yokes for beasts of draught. I cut away several of these, and placed them on the cart. When we had nearly passed the wood, we were struck with the singular appearance of a little thicket of low bushes, apparently covered with snow. Francis clapped his hands with joy, and begged to get out of the cart that he might make some snowballs. Fritz galloped forward, and returned, bringing me a branch loaded with this beautiful white down, which, to my great joy, I recognized to be cotton. It was a discovery of inestimable value to us, and my wife began immediately to enumerate all the advantages we should derive from it, when I should have constructed for her the machines for spinning and weaving the cotton. We soon gathered as much as filled three bags, intending afterwards to collect the seeds of this marvellous plant, to sow in the neighbourhood of Tent House.

Fritz rode ahead on Lightfoot to scout the area so we wouldn’t run into any problems. This time, we were heading in a new direction, right between the rocks and the shore, to familiarize ourselves with the land that stretched to Cape Disappointment. Initially, we faced the usual challenge of getting through the tall grass, and the underbrush was a hassle, forcing us to use the axe quite often. I made a few minor discoveries that turned out useful while working; among them were some tree roots shaped like saddles and yokes for draft animals. I cut several of these and put them on the cart. Just as we were about to leave the woods, we were taken aback by a strange sight: a small thicket of low bushes that looked like it was covered in snow. Francis clapped his hands in excitement and asked to get out of the cart to make some snowballs. Fritz rode ahead and came back with a branch full of this beautiful white fluff, which I was thrilled to recognize as cotton. This was an incredibly valuable discovery for us, and my wife immediately started listing all the benefits we would gain from it once I made her the machines for spinning and weaving the cotton. We quickly gathered enough to fill three bags, planning to collect the seeds of this amazing plant later to plant around Tent House.

After crossing the plain of the cotton-trees, we reached the summit of a hill, from which the eye rested on a terrestrial paradise. Trees of every sort covered the sides of the hill, and a murmuring stream crossed the plain, adding to its beauty and fertility. The wood we had just crossed formed a shelter against the north winds, and the rich pasture offered food for our cattle. We decided at once that this should be the site of our farm.

After crossing the open field of cotton trees, we reached the top of a hill, from where we could see a stunning landscape. Trees of all kinds lined the slopes, and a gentle stream flowed through the plain, enhancing its beauty and richness. The woods we had just passed through provided protection from the northern winds, and the lush grassland offered plenty of food for our cattle. We immediately agreed that this would be the perfect location for our farm.

We erected our tent, made a fireplace, and set about cooking our dinner. While this was going on, Fritz and I sought a convenient spot for our structure; and we met with a group of beautiful trees, at such a distance one from another, as to form natural pillars for our dwelling; we carried all our tools here; but as the day was far advanced, we delayed commencing our work till next day. We returned to the tent, and found my wife and her boys picking cotton, with which they made some very comfortable beds, and we slept peacefully under our canvass roof.

We set up our tent, built a fire, and started cooking dinner. While we were doing that, Fritz and I looked for a good spot for our structure; we found a group of beautiful trees spaced out just right to serve as natural pillars for our home. We brought all our tools over, but since the day was getting late, we decided to wait until the next day to start our work. We went back to the tent and saw my wife and the boys picking cotton, which they used to make some really cozy beds, and we slept peacefully under our canvas roof.


CHAPTER XXXII.

The trees which I had chosen for my farmhouse were about a foot in diameter in the trunk. They formed a long square; the long side facing the sea. The dimensions of the whole were about twenty-four feet by sixteen. I cut deep mortices in the trees, about ten feet distant from the ground, and again ten feet higher, to form a second story; I then placed in them strong poles: this was the skeleton of my house—solid, if not elegant; I placed over this a rude roof of bark, cut in squares, and placed sloping, that the rain might run off. We fastened these with the thorn of the acacia, as our nails were too precious to be lavished. While procuring the bark, we made many discoveries. The first was that of two remarkable trees,—the Pistacia terebinthus and the Pistacia atlantica; the next, the thorny acacia, from which we got the substitute for nails.

The trees I picked for my farmhouse were about a foot wide at the trunk. They formed a long rectangle, with the longer side facing the sea. The overall size was roughly twenty-four feet by sixteen. I cut deep slots in the trees, one about ten feet off the ground and another ten feet higher, to create a second story; then I put strong poles in them. This became the frame of my house—sturdy, if not fancy. I covered it with a rough roof made of bark, cut into squares and sloped so that rain could run off. We secured these with acacia thorns, since our nails were too precious to waste. While gathering the bark, we made several discoveries. First, we found two impressive trees—Pistacia terebinthus and Pistacia atlantica; next was the thorny acacia, which provided us with a substitute for nails.

The instinct of my goats led us also to find out, among the pieces of bark, that of the cinnamon, not perhaps equal to that of Ceylon, but very fragrant and agreeable. But this was of little value, compared to the turpentine and mastic I hoped to procure from the pistachios, to compose a sort of pitch to complete our intended boat.

The instinct of my goats also helped us discover among the pieces of bark the cinnamon variety, which, while not perhaps as good as Ceylon cinnamon, was still very fragrant and pleasant. However, this was of little value compared to the turpentine and mastic I hoped to get from the pistachio trees to make a kind of pitch to finish building our planned boat.

We continued our work at the house, which occupied us several days. We formed the walls of thin laths interwoven with long pliant reeds for about six feet from the ground; the rest was merely a sort of light trellis-work, to admit light and air. The door opened on the front to the sea. The interior consisted simply of a series of compartments, proportioned to the guests they were to contain. One small apartment was for ourselves, when we chose to visit our colony. On the upper story was a sort of hayloft for the fodder. We projected plastering the walls with clay; but these finishing touches we deferred to a future time, contented that we had provided a shelter for our cattle and fowls. To accustom them to come to this shelter of themselves, we took care to fill their racks with the food they liked best, mingled with salt; and this we proposed to renew at intervals, till the habit of coming to their houses was fixed. We all laboured ardently, but the work proceeded slowly, from our inexperience; and the provisions we had brought were nearly exhausted. I did not wish to return to Falcon’s Nest till I had completed my new establishment, and therefore determined to send Fritz and Jack to look after the animals at home, and bring back a fresh stock of provisions. Our two young couriers set out, each on his favourite steed, Fritz leading the ass to bring back the load, and Jack urging the indolent animal forward with his whip.

We kept working on the house for several days. We built the walls with thin strips of wood intertwined with long, flexible reeds, about six feet high; above that, it was just a light trellis framework to let in light and air. The door faced the sea. Inside, there were a series of compartments sized for the guests we would have. One small room was for us when we wanted to visit our colony. On the upper floor, there was a sort of hayloft for fodder. We planned to plaster the walls with clay, but we decided to save that for later, satisfied that we had created shelter for our animals and poultry. To help them get used to coming to this shelter on their own, we filled their feed racks with their favorite food mixed with salt. We intended to keep replenishing it until they developed the habit of coming back to their homes. We all worked hard, but progress was slow because we were inexperienced, and our supplies were running low. I didn’t want to go back to Falcon’s Nest until I finished the new establishment, so I decided to send Fritz and Jack to check on the animals at home and bring back more supplies. Our two young messengers set off, each on their favorite horse, with Fritz leading the donkey to carry the load and Jack encouraging the lazy animal ahead with his whip.

During their absence, Ernest and I made a little excursion, to add to our provision—if we could meet with them, some potatoes and cocoa-nuts. We ascended the stream for some time, which led us to a large marsh, beyond which we discovered a lake abounding with water-fowl. This lake was surrounded by tall, thick grass, with ears of a grain, which I found to be a very good, though small, sort of rice. As to the lake itself, it is only a Swiss, accustomed from his infancy to look on such smooth, tranquil waters, that can comprehend the happiness we felt on looking upon this. We fancied we were once more in Switzerland, our own dear land; but the majestic trees and luxuriant vegetation soon reminded us we were no longer in Europe, and that the ocean separated us from our native home.

While they were away, Ernest and I took a little trip to gather some supplies—hopefully finding some potatoes and coconuts. We followed the stream for a while, which led us to a large marsh, and beyond it, we found a lake teeming with waterfowl. The lake was surrounded by tall, thick grass and grains that I realized were a very good, albeit small, type of rice. As for the lake itself, only someone from Switzerland, used to looking at such calm, smooth waters since childhood, could understand the joy we felt as we gazed upon it. We imagined we were back in Switzerland, our beloved homeland; but the towering trees and lush vegetation quickly reminded us that we were far from Europe and that the ocean lay between us and our home.

In the mean time, Ernest had brought down several birds, with a skill and success that surprised me. A little after, we saw Knips leap off the back of his usual palfrey, Flora, and, making his way through the rich grass, collect and carry rapidly to his mouth something that seemed particularly to please his palate. We followed him, and, to our great comfort, were able to refresh ourselves with that delicious strawberry called in Europe the Chili or pineapple strawberry. We ate plentifully of this fruit, which was of enormous size; Ernest especially enjoyed them, but did not forget the absent; he filled Knips’s little pannier with them, and I covered them with large leaves, which I fastened down with reeds, lest he should take a fancy to help himself as we went home. I took, also, a specimen of rice, for the inspection of our good housekeeper, who would, I knew, rejoice in such an acquisition.

In the meantime, Ernest had caught several birds with skill and success that surprised me. Shortly after, we saw Knips leap off his usual horse, Flora, and make his way through the lush grass to quickly grab something that seemed to particularly please him. We followed him, and to our great relief, we managed to enjoy that delicious strawberry known in Europe as the Chili or pineapple strawberry. We feasted on this fruit, which was enormous. Ernest especially loved them, but he didn’t forget about those who weren’t with us; he filled Knips's little basket with them, and I covered it with large leaves, securing them with reeds, so he wouldn’t help himself while we headed home. I also took a sample of rice for our good housekeeper, who I knew would be thrilled by such a find.

We proceeded round the lake, which presented a different scene on every side. This was one of the most lovely and fertile parts we had yet seen of this country. Birds of all kinds abounded; but we were particularly struck with a pair of black swans, sailing majestically on the water. Their plumage was perfectly black and glossy, except the extremity of the wings, which was white. Ernest would have tried his skill again, but I forbade him to disturb the profound tranquillity of this charming region.

We walked around the lake, which showed a different view on every side. This was one of the most beautiful and fertile areas we had seen in this country. There were all kinds of birds everywhere, but we were especially taken by a pair of black swans gliding gracefully on the water. Their feathers were completely black and shiny, except for the tips of their wings, which were white. Ernest wanted to try his skills again, but I told him not to disturb the peacefulness of this lovely place.

But Flora, who probably had not the same taste for the beauties of nature that I had, suddenly darted forward like an arrow, pounced upon a creature that was swimming quietly at the edge of the water, and brought it to us. It was a most curious animal. It resembled an otter in form, but was web-footed, had an erect bushy tail like the squirrel, small head, eyes and ears almost invisible. A long, flat bill, like that of a duck, completed its strange appearance. We were completely puzzled—even Ernest, the naturalist, could not give its name. I boldly gave it the name of the beast with a bill. I told Ernest to take it, as I wished to stuff and preserve it.

But Flora, who probably didn’t appreciate the beauty of nature like I did, suddenly darted forward like an arrow, pounced on a creature that was swimming quietly at the edge of the water, and brought it to us. It was a very strange animal. It looked like an otter in shape, but it had webbed feet, an upright bushy tail like a squirrel, and its small head, eyes, and ears were almost invisible. A long, flat bill, like that of a duck, completed its odd appearance. We were totally confused—even Ernest, the naturalist, couldn’t name it. I confidently named it the beast with a bill. I told Ernest to take it, as I wanted to stuff and preserve it.

“It will be,” said the little philosopher, “the first natural object for our museum.”

“It will be,” said the little philosopher, “the first natural item for our museum.”

“Exactly,” replied I; “and, when the establishment is fully arranged, we will appoint you curator.”

“Exactly,” I replied; “and once everything is set up, we'll make you the curator.”

But, thinking my wife would grow uneasy at our protracted absence, we returned by a direct road to the tent. Our two messengers arrived about the same time, and we all sat down together to a cheerful repast. Every one related his feats. Ernest dwelt on his discoveries, and was very pompous in his descriptions, and I was obliged to promise to take Fritz another time. I learnt, with pleasure, that all was going on well at Falcon’s Nest, and that the boys had had the forethought to leave the animals with provisions for ten days. This enabled me to complete my farmhouse. We remained four days longer, in which time I finished the interior, and my wife arranged in our own apartment the cotton mattresses, to be ready for our visits, and put into the houses the fodder and grain for their respective tenants. We then loaded our cart, and began our march. The animals wished to follow us, but Fritz, on Lightfoot, covered our retreat, and kept them at the farm till we were out of sight.

But, thinking my wife might get worried about our extended absence, we took a direct route back to the tent. Our two messengers arrived around the same time, and we all sat down together for a pleasant meal. Everyone shared their stories. Ernest focused on his discoveries and was quite dramatic in his descriptions, and I had to promise to take Fritz another time. I was happy to learn that everything was going well at Falcon’s Nest and that the boys had wisely left enough provisions for the animals for ten days. This allowed me to finish my farmhouse. We stayed for four more days, during which I completed the interior, and my wife set up the cotton mattresses in our room, preparing for our visits, and filled the houses with fodder and grain for the animals. We then loaded our cart and set off. The animals wanted to follow us, but Fritz, on Lightfoot, covered our retreat and kept them at the farm until we were out of sight.

We did not proceed directly, but went towards the wood of monkeys. These mischievous creatures assaulted us with showers of the fir-apples; but a few shots dispersed our assailants.

We didn't go straight ahead, but headed towards the monkey woods. These playful animals attacked us with volleys of fir-apples, but a few shots sent them running.

Fritz collected some of these new fruits they had flung at us, and I recognized them as those of the stone Pine, the kernel of which is good to eat, and produces an excellent oil. We gathered a bag of these, and continued our journey till we reached the neighbourhood of Cape Disappointment. There we ascended a little hill, from the summit of which we looked upon rich plains, rivers, and woods clothed with verdure and brilliant flowers, and gay birds that fluttered among the bushes. “Here, my children,” cried I, “here we will build our summer house. This is truly Arcadia.” Here we placed our tent, and immediately began to erect a new building, formed in the same manner as the Farm House, but now executed more quickly. We raised the roof in the middle, and made four sloped sides. The interior was divided into eating and sleeping apartments, stables, and a store-room for provisions; the whole was completed and provisioned in ten days; and we had now another mansion for ourselves, and a shelter for new colonies of animals. This new erection received the name of Prospect Hill, to gratify Ernest, who thought it had an English appearance.

Fritz collected some of these new fruits they had thrown at us, and I recognized them as those from the stone Pine, the seeds of which are tasty and produce great oil. We filled a bag with these and continued our journey until we reached the area near Cape Disappointment. There, we climbed a small hill, and from the top, we looked over lush plains, rivers, and woods full of greenery and bright flowers, with colorful birds flitting among the bushes. “Here, my children,” I exclaimed, “here we will build our summer house. This is truly paradise.” We set up our tent and immediately started building a new structure, made in the same style as the Farm House, but this time completed more quickly. We raised the roof in the center and created four sloped sides. The inside was divided into eating and sleeping areas, stables, and a storeroom for supplies; the entire thing was finished and stocked within ten days, giving us another home and a shelter for new animal colonies. This new structure was named Prospect Hill to please Ernest, who thought it looked English.

However, the end for which our expedition was planned was not yet fulfilled. I had not yet met with a tree likely to suit me for a boat. We returned then to inspect the trees, and I fixed on a sort of oak, the bark of which was closer than that of the European oak, resembling more that of the cork-tree. The trunk was at least five feet in diameter, and I fancied its coating, if I could obtain it whole, would perfectly answer my purpose. I traced a circle at the foot, and with a small saw cut the bark entirely through; Fritz, by means of the rope ladder we had brought with us, and attached to the lower branches of the tree, ascended, and cut a similar circle eighteen feet above mine. We then cut out, perpendicularly, a slip the whole length, and, removing it, we had room to insert the necessary tools, and, with wedges, we finally succeeded in loosening the whole. The first part was easy enough, but there was greater difficulty as we advanced. We sustained it as we proceeded with ropes, and then gently let it down on the grass. I immediately began to form my boat while the bark was fresh and flexible. My sons, in their impatience, thought it would do very well if we nailed a board at each end of the roll; but this would have been merely a heavy trough, inelegant and unserviceable; I wished to have one that would look well by the side of the pinnace; and this idea at once rendered my boys patient and obedient. We began by cutting out at each end of the roll of bark a triangular piece of about five feet long; then, placing the sloping parts one over the other, I united them with pegs and strong glue, and thus finished the ends of my boat in a pointed form. This operation having widened it too much in the middle, we passed strong ropes round it, and drew it into the form we required. We then exposed it to the sun, which dried and fixed it in the proper shape.

However, the goal for which our expedition was planned was not yet achieved. I still hadn't found a tree suitable for making a boat. So, we went back to examine the trees, and I settled on a kind of oak, whose bark was smoother than that of the European oak, more similar to that of the cork tree. The trunk was at least five feet in diameter, and I believed that if I could get it off whole, it would be perfect for my needs. I marked a circle at the base, and with a small saw, I cut the bark all the way through. Fritz used the rope ladder we had brought, attached it to the lower branches of the tree, climbed up, and cut a similar circle eighteen feet above mine. Next, we cut out a strip vertically the entire length, and after removing it, we had enough space to insert the necessary tools, and with wedges, we finally managed to loosen the whole thing. The first part was relatively easy, but it got increasingly difficult as we went along. We supported it with ropes as we worked and then gently lowered it onto the grass. I immediately started shaping my boat while the bark was still fresh and flexible. My sons, feeling impatient, thought it would suffice to nail a board at each end of the roll; but that would have just created a heavy, unattractive trough that would be useless. I wanted a boat that would look nice next to the pinnace, and this idea made my boys patient and compliant. We started by cutting out a triangular piece about five feet long from each end of the bark roll; then, by placing the sloping sides on top of each other, I joined them with pegs and strong glue, finishing the ends of my boat into a pointed shape. Since this made it too wide in the middle, we wrapped strong ropes around it and pulled it into the shape we wanted. Finally, we exposed it to the sun, which dried and solidified it into the right form.

As many things were necessary to complete my work, I sent Fritz and Jack to Tent House for the sledge, to convey it there, that we might finish it more conveniently. I had the good fortune to meet with some very hard, crooked wood, the natural curve of which would be admirably suitable for supporting the sides of the boat. We found also a resinous tree, which distilled a sort of pitch, easy to manage, and which soon hardened in the sun. My wife and Francis collected sufficient of it for my work. It was almost night when our two messengers returned. We had only time to sup and retire to our rest.

As I needed many things to finish my work, I sent Fritz and Jack to the Tent House for the sledge to bring it over so we could complete the project more easily. Luckily, I found some really tough, twisted wood that was naturally curved and perfect for supporting the sides of the boat. We also discovered a resinous tree that produced a type of pitch that was easy to work with and hardened quickly in the sun. My wife and Francis gathered enough pitch for my project. It was almost night when our two messengers came back. We only had time to eat dinner and then go to bed.

We were all early at work next morning. We loaded the sledge, placing on it the canoe, the wood for the sides, the pitch, and some young trees, which I had transplanted for our plantation at Tent House, and which we put into the boat. But, before we set out, I wished to erect a sort of fortification at the pass of the rock, for the double purpose of securing us against the attacks of wild beasts or of savages, and for keeping enclosed, in the savannah beyond the rocks, some young pigs, that we wished to multiply there, out of the way of our fields and plantations.

We all got to work early the next morning. We loaded the sled, putting on it the canoe, the wood for the sides, the pitch, and some young trees I had moved for our plantation at Tent House, which we put into the boat. But before we headed out, I wanted to build a kind of fortification at the rock pass, to protect us from attacks by wild animals or savages, and to keep some young pigs enclosed in the savannah beyond the rocks, far from our fields and plantations, where we wanted them to multiply.

As we crossed the sugar-cane plantation, I saw some bamboos larger than any I had ever met with, and we cut down one for a mast to our canoe. We now had the river to our left, and the chain of rocks to our right, which here approached the river, leaving only a narrow pass. At the narrowest part of this we raised a rampart before a deep ditch, which could only be crossed by a drawbridge we placed there. Beyond the bridge, we put a narrow gate of woven bamboos, to enable us to enter the country beyond, when we wished. We planted the side of the rampart with dwarf palms, India fig, and other thorny shrubs, making a winding path through the plantation, and digging in the midst a hidden pitfall, known to ourselves by four low posts, intended to support a plank bridge when we wished to cross it. After this was completed, we built a little chalet of bark in that part of the plantation that faced the stream, and gave it the name of the Hermitage, intending it for a resting-place. After several days of hard labour, we returned to Prospect Hill, and took a little relaxation. The only work we did was to prepare the mast, and lay it on the sledge with the rest.

As we walked through the sugarcane field, I noticed some bamboos that were bigger than any I’d ever seen, and we cut one down to use as a mast for our canoe. The river was on our left, and a chain of rocks was on our right, coming close to the river and leaving only a narrow pass. At the narrowest point, we built a rampart in front of a deep ditch that could only be crossed by a drawbridge we put in place. Beyond the bridge, we added a narrow gate made of woven bamboos, allowing us to enter the land beyond whenever we wanted. We lined the rampart with small palms, Indian figs, and other thorny bushes, creating a winding path through the field, and we dug a hidden pitfall in the middle, which we marked for ourselves with four low posts, meant to hold a plank bridge when we needed to cross it. Once that was done, we built a small chalet made of bark in the part of the field that faced the stream and named it the Hermitage, planning for it to be a resting spot. After several days of hard work, we headed back to Prospect Hill to take a little break. The only thing we worked on was preparing the mast and loading it onto the sledge with the rest.

The next morning we returned to Tent House, where we immediately set to work on our canoe with such diligence that it was soon completed. It was solid and elegant, lined through with wood, and furnished with a keel. We provided it with brass rings for the oars, and stays for the mast. Instead of ballast, I laid at the bottom a layer of stones covered with clay, and over this a flooring of boards. The benches for the rowers were laid across, and in the midst the bamboo mast rose majestically, with a triangular sail. Behind I fixed the rudder, worked by a tiller; and I could boast now of having built a capital canoe.

The next morning we went back to Tent House, where we immediately got to work on our canoe with such dedication that it was quickly finished. It was sturdy and stylish, made of wood, and equipped with a keel. We added brass rings for the oars and supports for the mast. Instead of ballast, I placed a layer of stones covered with clay at the bottom, and on top of that, we laid down a floor of boards. The benches for the rowers were arranged across, and in the center, the bamboo mast rose proudly, with a triangular sail. At the back, I attached the rudder, operated by a tiller; and I could now proudly say that I had built an excellent canoe.

Our fleet was now in good condition. For distant excursions we could take the pinnace, but the canoe would be invaluable for the coasting service.

Our fleet was now in great shape. For long trips, we could use the small boat, but the canoe would be really useful for coastal journeys.

Our cow had, in the mean time, given us a young male calf, which I undertook to train for service, as I had done the buffalo, beginning by piercing its nostrils; and the calf promised to be docile and useful; and, as each of the other boys had his favourite animal to ride, I bestowed the bull on Francis, and intrusted him with its education, to encourage him to habits of boldness and activity. He was delighted with his new charger, and chose to give him the name of Valiant.

Our cow had, in the meantime, given us a young male calf, which I took on myself to train for service, just like I had done with the buffalo. I started by piercing its nostrils, and the calf seemed to promise to be gentle and useful. Since each of the other boys had their favorite animal to ride, I gave the bull to Francis and trusted him with its training to encourage him to develop boldness and activity. He was thrilled with his new mount and decided to name him Valiant.

We had still two months before the rainy season, and this time we devoted to completing the comforts of our grotto. We made all the partitions of wood, except those which divided us from the stables, which we built of stone, to exclude any smell from the animals. We soon acquired skill in our works; we had a plentiful supply of beams and planks from the ship; and by practice we became very good plasterers. We covered the floors with a sort of well-beaten mud, smoothed it, and it dried perfectly hard. We then contrived a sort of felt carpet. We first covered the floor with sailcloth; we spread over this wool and goats’ hair mixed, and poured over it isinglass dissolved, rolling up the carpet, and beating it well. When this was dry, we repeated the process, and in the end had a felt carpet. We made one of these for each room, to guard against any damp that we might be subject to in the rainy season.

We still had two months before the rainy season, and we used that time to finish making our grotto comfortable. We built all the walls with wood, except for the ones separating us from the stables, which we made from stone to keep out any smell from the animals. We quickly became skilled at what we were doing; we had plenty of beams and planks from the ship, and through practice, we got really good at plastering. We covered the floors with a type of well-beaten mud, smoothed it out, and it dried super hard. Then we created a sort of felt carpet. First, we laid down sailcloth on the floor, then spread a mix of wool and goat hair over it, and poured dissolved isinglass on top before rolling it up and beating it well. When it dried, we repeated the process, and in the end, we had a felt carpet. We made one of these for each room to protect against any dampness we might face in the rainy season.

The privations we had suffered the preceding winter increased the enjoyment of our present comforts. The rainy season came on; we had now a warm, well lighted, convenient habitation, and abundance of excellent provision for ourselves and our cattle. In the morning, we could attend to their wants without trouble, for the rain-water, carefully collected in clean vessels, prevented the necessity of going to the river. We then assembled in the dining-room to prayers. After that we went to our work-room. My wife took her wheel, or her loom, which was a rude construction of mine, but in which she had contrived to weave some useful cloth of wool and cotton, and also some linen, which she had made up for us. Everybody worked; the workshop was never empty. I contrived, with the wheel of a gun, to arrange a sort of lathe, by means of which I and my sons produced some neat furniture and utensils. Ernest surpassed us all in this art, and made some elegant little things for his mother.

The hardships we faced last winter made our current comforts even more enjoyable. The rainy season arrived; we now had a warm, well-lit, and convenient home, along with plenty of great food for ourselves and our animals. In the morning, we could easily take care of their needs since we collected rainwater in clean containers, eliminating the need to go to the river. We then gathered in the dining room for prayers. After that, we headed to our work area. My wife used her spinning wheel or her loom, which I had built in a rough fashion, but she managed to weave some useful fabric from wool and cotton, as well as some linen that she made for us. Everyone was busy; the workshop was never empty. I figured out a way to use a gun's wheel to create a sort of lathe, which allowed my sons and me to make some nice furniture and tools. Ernest was the best at this skill and crafted some lovely pieces for his mother.

After dinner, our evening occupations commenced; our room was lighted up brilliantly; we did not spare our candles, which were so easily procured, and we enjoyed the reflection in the elegant crystals above us. We had partitioned off a little chapel in one corner of the grotto, which we had left untouched, and nothing could be more magnificent than this chapel lighted up, with its colonnades, portico, and altars. We had divine service here every Sunday. I had erected a sort of pulpit, from which I delivered a short sermon to my congregation, which I endeavoured to render as simple and as instructive as possible.

After dinner, our evening activities began; our room was bright and well-lit. We didn’t hold back on the candles, which were easy to get, and we enjoyed the glow from the elegant crystals above us. We had set aside a small chapel in one corner of the grotto that we left untouched, and nothing looked more magnificent than this chapel lit up, with its columns, portico, and altars. We held a worship service here every Sunday. I had built a sort of pulpit from which I gave a short sermon to my congregation, and I tried to make it as simple and instructive as possible.

Jack and Francis had a natural taste for music. I made them flageolets of reeds, on which they acquired considerable skill. They accompanied their mother, who had a very good voice; and this music in our lofty grotto had a charming effect.

Jack and Francis had a natural talent for music. I made them reed flageolets, which they became quite skilled at playing. They played alongside their mother, who had a beautiful voice, and the music in our high grotto created a delightful atmosphere.

We had thus made great steps towards civilization; and, though condemned, perhaps, to pass our lives alone on this unknown shore, we might yet be happy. We were placed in the midst of abundance. We were active, industrious, and content; blessed with health, and united by affection, our minds seemed to enlarge and improve every day. We saw around us on every side traces of the Divine wisdom and beneficence; and our hearts overflowed with love and veneration for that Almighty hand which had so miraculously saved, and continued to protect us. I humbly trusted in Him, either to restore us to the world, or send some beings to join us in this beloved island, where for two years we had seen no trace of man. To Him we committed our fate. We were happy and tranquil, looking with resignation to the future.

We had made significant progress towards civilization, and even though we were likely destined to spend our lives alone on this unfamiliar shore, we could still find happiness. We were surrounded by plenty. We were active, hardworking, and content; blessed with good health and bound by love, our minds seemed to grow and improve every day. Everywhere we looked, we saw signs of Divine wisdom and kindness, and our hearts were filled with love and respect for that Almighty power which had miraculously saved us and continued to protect us. I sincerely hoped in Him, either to bring us back to the world or to send some other people to join us on this cherished island, where for two years we had seen no sign of humanity. We entrusted our fate to Him. We were happy and at peace, accepting whatever the future might bring.

END OF THE FIRST PART OF THE JOURNAL.

END OF THE FIRST PART OF THE JOURNAL.


POSTSCRIPT BY THE EDITOR.

Editor's Note.

It is necessary to explain how this first part of the journal of the Swiss pastor came into my hands.

It’s important to explain how I got this first part of the Swiss pastor's journal.

Three or four years after the family had been cast on this desert coast, where, as we see, they lived a happy and contented life, an English transport was driven by a storm upon the same shore. This vessel was the Adventurer, Captain Johnson, and was returning from New Zealand to the eastern coast of North America, by Otaheite, to fetch a cargo of furs for China, and then to proceed from Canton to England. A violent storm, which lasted several days, drove them out of their course. For many days they wandered in unknown seas, and the ship was so injured by the storm, that the captain looked out for some port to repair it. They discovered a rocky coast, and, as the violence of the wind was lulled, ventured to approach the shore. At a short distance they anchored, and sent a boat to examine the coast. Lieutenant Bell, who went with the boat, knew a little German. They were some time before they could venture to land among the rocks which guarded the island, but, turning the promontory, they saw Safety Bay, and entering it, were astonished to see a handsome pinnace and boat at anchor, near the strand a tent, and in the rock doors and windows, like those of a European house.

Three or four years after the family settled on this barren coast, where they lived happily and contentedly, an English ship was pushed ashore by a storm. This vessel was the Adventurer, under Captain Johnson, returning from New Zealand to the eastern coast of North America via Tahiti to pick up a load of furs for China, and then heading from Canton to England. A fierce storm that lasted several days got them off course. For many days, they wandered in unfamiliar seas, and the ship sustained so much damage from the storm that the captain began looking for a port to make repairs. They spotted a rocky coastline, and when the winds calmed down, they decided to approach the shore. They anchored at a short distance and sent a boat to scout the area. Lieutenant Bell, who was in the boat, spoke a bit of German. It took them a while to find a place to land among the rocky barriers surrounding the island, but rounding a promontory, they discovered Safety Bay. As they entered, they were amazed to see a beautiful pinnace and boat anchored nearby, a tent by the shore, and in the rocks there were doors and windows, just like those in a European house.

They landed, and saw a middle-aged man coming to meet them, clothed in European fashion, and well armed. After a friendly salutation, they first spoke in German and then in English. This was the good father; the family were at Falcon’s Nest, where they were spending the summer. He had seen the vessel in the morning through his telescope, but, unwilling to alarm, or to encourage hopes that might be vain, he had not spoken of it, but come alone towards the coast.

They landed and saw a middle-aged man approaching them, dressed in European style and well-armed. After a friendly greeting, they first spoke in German and then in English. This was the good father; the family was at Falcon’s Nest, where they were spending the summer. He had spotted the ship in the morning through his telescope, but not wanting to cause alarm or raise false hopes, he hadn’t mentioned it and had come alone to the coast.

After much friendly conference, the party were regaled with all hospitality at Tent House, the good Swiss gave the Lieutenant this first part of his journal for the perusal of Captain Johnson, and, after an hour’s conversation, they separated, hoping to have a pleasant meeting next day.

After a lot of friendly discussions, everyone was warmly welcomed at Tent House. The kind Swiss man gave the Lieutenant the first part of his journal to share with Captain Johnson. After an hour of chatting, they went their separate ways, looking forward to a nice meeting the next day.

But Heaven decreed it otherwise. During the night, another fearful storm arose; the Adventurer lost its anchor, and was driven out to sea; and, after several days of anxiety and danger, found itself so far from the island, and so much shattered, that all thoughts of returning were given up for that time, and Captain Johnson reluctantly relinquished the hope of rescuing the interesting family.

But fate had other plans. During the night, another severe storm hit; the Adventurer lost its anchor and was swept out to sea. After several days of worry and danger, it was so far from the island and so badly damaged that any thoughts of returning were abandoned for the time being, and Captain Johnson sadly gave up on the hope of rescuing the intriguing family.

Thus it happened that the first part of this journal was brought to England, and from thence sent to me, a friend of the family, in Switzerland, accompanied by a letter from the Captain, declaring, that he could have no rest till he found, and became acquainted with, this happy family; that he would search for the island in his future voyages, and either bring away the family, or, if they preferred to remain, he would send out from England some colonists, and everything that might be necessary to promote their comfort. A rough map of the island is added to the journal, executed by Fritz, the eldest son.

So it happened that the first part of this journal was sent to England and then to me, a family friend, in Switzerland, along with a letter from the Captain stating that he would not rest until he found and met this happy family. He promised to look for the island on his future voyages and either bring the family back or, if they wanted to stay, he would send some colonists and everything needed to ensure their comfort from England. A rough map of the island, created by Fritz, the eldest son, is included with the journal.




CONTINUATION OF THE JOURNAL.


CHAPTER XXXIII.

I left the reader at the moment in which I had placed the first part of my journal in the hands of Lieutenant Bell, to deliver to Captain Johnson, of the English vessel the Adventurer, expecting him to return the next day with Lieutenant Bell. We separated in this hope, and I thought it necessary to inform my family of this expected visit, which might decide their future lot. My wife and elder sons might wish to seize this only occasion that might occur to revisit their native country—to quit their beloved island, which would doubtless cost them much sorrow at the last moment, but was necessary to their future comfort. I could not help feeling distressed at the prospect of my dear children’s solitary old age, and I determined, if they did not wish to return with Captain Johnson, to request him to send some colonists out to people our island.

I left the reader at the point where I handed the first part of my journal to Lieutenant Bell, so he could give it to Captain Johnson of the English ship Adventurer, expecting him to return the next day with Lieutenant Bell. We parted with this hope, and I thought it was important to inform my family about this expected visit, which could determine their future. My wife and older sons might want to take this one chance to revisit their homeland—to leave their beloved island, which would surely bring them a lot of sadness at the last moment, but was necessary for their future comfort. I couldn’t help but feel upset at the thought of my dear children's lonely old age, and I decided that if they didn’t want to return with Captain Johnson, I would ask him to send some colonists to settle our island.

It will be remembered that I had left home alone, and at an early hour, having perceived a vessel from the top of our tree with my telescope. I had set out without breakfast, without giving my sons their tasks, or making any arrangements for the labours of the day. My conference with Lieutenant Bell had been long; it was now past noon, and knowing how prompt my wife was to alarm herself, I was surprised that I did not meet her, nor any of my sons. I began to be uneasy, and on my arrival I hastily mounted the tree, and found my faithful partner extended on her bed, surrounded by her four sons, and apparently in great pain. I demanded, with a cry of grief, what had happened; all wished to speak at once, and it was with some difficulty I learned, that my dear wife, in descending the staircase, had been seized with a giddiness in her head, and had fallen down and injured herself so much, that she was unable to rise without assistance; she was now enduring great pain in her right leg and in her left foot. “Ernest and I,” added Fritz, “carried her without delay to her bed, though not without difficulty, for the staircase is so narrow; but she continued to get worse, and we did not know what to do.”

I remember that I had left home alone early in the morning after spotting a ship from the top of our tree using my telescope. I had set out without breakfast, hadn’t given my sons their chores, or made any plans for the day’s work. My conversation with Lieutenant Bell had taken a long time; it was now past noon, and knowing how quick my wife was to worry, I was surprised not to see her or any of my sons. I started to feel uneasy, and when I arrived, I quickly climbed the tree and found my beloved partner lying in bed, surrounded by our four sons, and clearly in a lot of pain. I cried out in grief, asking what had happened; everyone wanted to speak at once, and it took me a moment to learn that my dear wife, while coming down the stairs, had felt dizzy and fallen, injuring herself so badly that she couldn’t get up without help. She was now in serious pain in her right leg and left foot. “Ernest and I,” Fritz added, “took her to bed right away, though it wasn’t easy because the stairs are so narrow; but she kept getting worse, and we didn’t know what to do.”

Jack. I have rubbed her foot continually, but it swells more and more, as well as her leg, which I dare not touch, it hurts her so much.

Jack. I have been massaging her foot constantly, but it keeps swelling more and more, and her leg, which I’m too scared to touch, hurts her too much.

Ernest. I remember, father, that of the chests that we brought from the ship there is one unopened, which is marked “medicines,”—may it not contain something that will relieve mamma?

Ernest. I remember, Dad, that of the chests we brought from the ship, there's one we haven't opened that's labeled “medicines.” I hope it holds something that can help Mom.

Father. Perhaps it may, my son. You did well to remember it; we will go to Tent House for it. Fritz, you shall accompany me to assist in bringing it.

Father. Maybe it will, my son. You remembered it well; we’ll go to Tent House for it. Fritz, you’ll come with me to help bring it.

I wished to be alone with Fritz, to consult him about the English vessel, and was glad of this opportunity. Before I left my wife, I intended to examine her leg and foot, which were exceedingly painful. When I was preparing to enter the Church, I had studied medicine and practical surgery, in order to be able to administer to the bodily afflictions of my poor parishioners, as well as to their spiritual sorrows. I knew how to bleed, and could replace a dislocated limb. I had often made cures; but since my arrival at the island I had neglected my medical studies, which happily had not been needed. I hoped now, however, to recall as much of my knowledge as would be sufficient to cure my poor wife. I examined her foot first, which I found to be violently sprained. She begged me then to look at her leg, and what was my distress when I saw it was fractured above the ankle; however, the fracture appeared simple, without splinters, and easy to cure. I sent Fritz without delay to procure me two pieces of the bark of a tree, between which I placed the leg, after having, with the assistance of my son, stretched it till the two pieces of broken bone united; I then bound it with bandages of linen, and tied the pieces of bark round the leg, so that it might not be moved. I bound the sprained foot very tightly, till I could procure the balsam which I expected to find in the chest. I felt assured, that the giddiness of the head, which had caused her fall, proceeded from some existing cause, which I suspected, from the pulse and the complexion, must be a fulness of blood; and it appeared to be necessary to take away some ounces, which I persuaded her to allow me to do, when I should have brought my medicine-chest and instruments from Tent House. I left her, with many charges, to the care of my three younger sons, and proceeded to Tent House with Fritz, to whom I now related my morning adventure, and consulted him how we should mention it to his mother. Fritz was astonished. I saw how his mind was employed; he looked round on our fields and plantations, increasing and prospering.

I wanted to be alone with Fritz to discuss the English ship, and I was grateful for this chance. Before I left my wife, I planned to check her leg and foot, which were extremely painful. When I was preparing to enter the Church, I had studied medicine and practical surgery to help my parishioners with both their physical ailments and their spiritual struggles. I knew how to perform bloodletting and could reset a dislocated limb. I had often made successful treatments, but since arriving on the island, I had ignored my medical studies, which fortunately hadn’t been necessary. However, I hoped to recall enough knowledge to help my poor wife. I looked at her foot first and found it was severely sprained. She then asked me to examine her leg, and I was distressed to see it was fractured just above the ankle; luckily, the fracture looked simple, without any splinters, and seemed easy to fix. I quickly sent Fritz to get two pieces of tree bark, which I placed around her leg after stretching it with my son's help until the broken bones lined up. I then bound it with linen bandages and secured the bark around her leg to keep it still. I also wrapped her sprained foot tightly until I could find the balm I expected to be in the medical chest. I felt confident that the dizziness from her fall was due to some underlining issue, which I guessed, from her pulse and appearance, was an excess of blood; it seemed necessary to remove some, which I convinced her to allow me to do once I brought my medical chest and tools from the Tent House. I left her in the care of my three younger sons with a lot of instructions, and went to the Tent House with Fritz, to whom I shared my morning experience and asked for his advice on how we should approach his mother about it. Fritz was shocked. I could see he was deep in thought; he looked around at our fields and plantations, which were growing and thriving.

“We must not tell her, father,” said he. “I will be at Tent House early in the morning; you must give me some commission to execute; I will await the arrival of the Captain, and tell him that my dear mother is ill,—and that he may return as he came.”

“We can’t tell her, Dad,” he said. “I’ll be at Tent House early in the morning; you need to give me something to do. I’ll wait for the Captain to arrive and let him know that my dear mom is sick—so he can go back the way he came.”

“You speak rashly, Fritz,” answered I. “I have told you that this ship has suffered much from the storm, and needs repairs. Have you not often read the golden rule of our divine Master, Do unto others as you would have others do unto you? Our duty is to receive the Captain into our island, and to assist him in repairing and refitting his vessel.”

“You're speaking too hastily, Fritz,” I replied. “I've told you that this ship has taken a beating from the storm and needs repairs. Haven’t you often read the golden rule from our divine Master, Do unto others as you would have others do unto you? It's our duty to welcome the Captain to our island and help him fix and refit his ship.”

“And he will find,” said he, “we know something of that kind of work. Did you show him our beautiful pinnace and canoe? But can such a large vessel enter our Bay of Safety?”

"And he will find," he said, "that we know a thing or two about that kind of work. Did you show him our beautiful small boat and canoe? But can such a large vessel even enter our Bay of Safety?"

“No,” replied I; “I fear there will not be sufficient water; but we will show the captain the large bay at the other end of the island, formed by Cape Disappointment; he will find there a beautiful harbour.”

“No,” I said; “I’m worried there won’t be enough water, but we can show the captain the big bay at the other end of the island, created by Cape Disappointment; he’ll discover a beautiful harbor there.”

“And he and his officers may live at the farm, and we can go over every day to assist in repairing their vessel,” continued Fritz.

“And he and his officers can stay at the farm, and we can go over every day to help fix their ship,” continued Fritz.

“Very well,” said I; “and when it is finished, he will, in return, give us a place in it to return to Europe.”

“Alright,” I said; “and when it's done, he will, in exchange, give us a place in it to go back to Europe.”

“To return to Europe, father!” cried he; “to leave our beautiful winter dwelling, Tent House, and our charming summer residence, Falcon’s Nest; our dear, good animals; our crystals of salt; our farms; so much that is our own, and which nobody covets, to return into Europe to poverty, to war, to those wicked soldiers who have banished us! We want nothing. Dear father, can you consent to leave our beloved island?”

“To go back to Europe, Dad!” he exclaimed; “to leave our beautiful winter home, Tent House, and our lovely summer place, Falcon’s Nest; our dear, sweet animals; our salt crystals; our farms; so much that belongs to us, and which no one wants, to go back to Europe filled with poverty, war, and those nasty soldiers who kicked us out! We don’t want anything. Please, Dad, can you agree to leave our cherished island?”

“You are right, my dear son,” said I. “Would to God we might always remain here happily together; but we are of different ages, and by the law of nature we must one day be separated. Consider, my dear son, if you should survive your brothers, how cheerless it would be to live quite alone on this desert island, without any one to close your eyes. But let us look at these trees; I see they are tamarind-trees; their fruit contains a pulp which is very useful in medicine, and which will suit your mother, I think, as well as the juice of the orange or lemon. We shall find some of the latter at our plantation near Tent House; but, in the mean time, do you climb the tamarind-tree, and gather some of those pods which resemble those of beans, fill one side of the bag with them, the other we will reserve for the oranges and lemons. Not to lose any time, I will go on to Tent House to seek for the two chests, and you can follow me.”

“You're right, my dear son,” I said. “I wish we could always stay here happily together; but we’re at different stages in life, and according to the law of nature, we will one day have to part ways. Think about it, my dear son, if you outlive your brothers, how lonely it would be to live all by yourself on this deserted island, without anyone to close your eyes. But let’s take a look at these trees; I see they’re tamarind trees; their fruit has a pulp that's very useful in medicine, and I think it will suit your mother just as much as orange or lemon juice. We can find some of those at our plantation near Tent House; in the meantime, why don’t you climb the tamarind tree and gather some of those pods that look like beans, fill one side of the bag with them, and we’ll save the other side for the oranges and lemons. To save time, I’ll head to Tent House to look for the two chests, and you can catch up with me.”

Fritz was up the tamarind-tree in a moment. I crossed Family Bridge, and soon reached the grotto. I lighted a candle, which I always kept ready, entered the magazine, and found the two chests, labelled.

Fritz was up the tamarind tree in no time. I crossed Family Bridge and quickly arrived at the grotto. I lit a candle that I always had ready, went into the magazine, and found the two chests, labeled.

They were neither large nor heavy, and, having tied cords round them for the convenience of carrying them, I proceeded to visit the orange and lemon trees, where I found the fruit sufficiently ripe for lemonade. Fritz came to meet me, with a good supply of tamarinds. We filled the other end of his sack with oranges and lemons. He threw it over his shoulder, and, neither of us being overloaded, we pursued our way homewards very quickly, notwithstanding the heat, which was excessively oppressive, though the sun was hidden under the thick clouds, which entirely concealed the sea from us. Nothing was to be seen but the waves breaking against the rocks. Fritz expressed his fears that a storm was coming on, which might prove fatal to the vessel, and wished to take out the pinnace and endeavour to assist Captain Johnson. Delighted as I felt with his fearless humanity, I could not consent; I reminded him of the situation of his mother. “Forgive me, dear father,” said he; “I had forgotten everything but the poor vessel. But the captain may do as we did, leave his ship between the rocks, and come, with all in the vessel, to establish themselves here. We will give them up a corner of our islands; and if there should be any ladies amongst them, how pleasant it would be for mamma to have a friend!”

They weren't large or heavy, and after tying cords around them to make them easier to carry, I went to visit the orange and lemon trees, where I found the fruit ripe enough for lemonade. Fritz came to meet me, carrying a good supply of tamarinds. We filled the other end of his sack with oranges and lemons. He slung it over his shoulder, and since neither of us was overloaded, we made our way home quickly, despite the heat, which was oppressive even though the sun was hidden behind thick clouds that completely blocked our view of the sea. All we could see were the waves crashing against the rocks. Fritz expressed his concerns that a storm might be coming, which could be disastrous for the vessel, and wanted to launch the pinnace to try to help Captain Johnson. As much as I admired his brave spirit, I couldn’t agree; I reminded him of his mother’s situation. “Forgive me, dear father,” he said; “I had forgotten everything except for the poor vessel. But the captain might do what we did: leave his ship among the rocks and come, with everyone on board, to settle here. We could give them a part of our islands, and if there are any ladies among them, how nice it would be for Mom to have a friend!”

The rain now fell in torrents, and we proceeded with great difficulty. After crossing the bridge, we saw at a distance a very extraordinary figure approaching us; we could not ascertain what species of animal it was. It appeared taller than any of the monkeys we had seen, and much larger, of a black or brown colour. We could not distinguish the head, but it seemed to have two thick and moveable horns before it. We had fortunately taken no gun with us, or Fritz would certainly have fired at this singular animal. But as it rapidly approached us, we soon recognized the step, and the cry of pleasure which hailed us. “It is Jack,” we exclaimed; and in fact it was he, who was hurrying to meet us with my large cloak and waterproof caoutchouc boots. I had neglected to take them, and my dear little fellow had volunteered to bring them to Tent House. To protect himself on the way, he had put the cloak on, covering his head with the hood, and my boots being too large for him, he had put one on each arm, which he held up to secure the hood. Conceive what a singular figure he made. Notwithstanding our uneasiness, and our wretched condition, for we were wet to the skin, we could not but laugh heartily at him. I would not consent to use the coverings he had brought; neither Fritz nor I could be worse for the distance we had to go, and Jack was younger and more delicate; I obliged him therefore to retain his curious protection; and asked how he had left his mother. “Very uneasy,” said he, “about you; else I think she must be much better, for her cheeks are very red, and her eyes very bright, and she talks incessantly. She would have come herself to seek you, but could not rise; and when I told her I would come, she bid me be very quick; but when I was coming down stairs, I heard her call me back for fear of the rain and the thunder; I would not hear her, but ran as fast as I could, hoping to reach Tent House. Why did you come back so soon?”

The rain was pouring down, and we were having a tough time moving forward. After we crossed the bridge, we spotted a really unusual figure approaching us from a distance; we couldn't figure out what kind of animal it was. It seemed taller than any monkeys we'd seen and much larger, possibly black or brown. We couldn’t make out its head, but it looked like it had two thick, movable horns at the front. Luckily, we hadn’t brought a gun, or Fritz would definitely have shot at this strange creature. But as it quickly came closer, we soon recognized the steps and the joyful cry calling us. “It’s Jack,” we shouted; and indeed it was him, rushing to meet us with my big cloak and waterproof rubber boots. I had forgotten to take them, and my sweet little guy had volunteered to bring them to Tent House. To shield himself on the way, he had put the cloak on, pulling the hood over his head, and since the boots were too big for him, he wore one on each arm, holding them up to keep the hood secure. Imagine what a funny sight he was! Despite our worries and our miserable situation, since we were soaked to the skin, we couldn’t help but laugh at him. I wouldn’t let him use the gear he brought; neither Fritz nor I could get worse off by the distance we had left to go, and Jack was younger and more fragile; so I insisted he keep his quirky protection on. I asked how his mother was doing. “Very worried,” he replied, “about you; otherwise, I think she’s feeling better because her cheeks are really red, her eyes are bright, and she talks non-stop. She wanted to come look for you herself, but she couldn’t get up; and when I told her I would go, she said to be very quick; but when I was coming down the stairs, I heard her call me back because of the rain and thunder; I didn’t listen and ran as fast as I could, hoping to reach Tent House. Why did you come back so soon?”

“To spare you half your journey, my brave little man,” said I, hastening on; for Jack’s account of his mother made me uneasy. I perceived she must be labouring under fever, and the blood ascending to her head. My children followed me, and we soon reached the foot of our castle in the air.

“To save you half the trip, my brave little man,” I said, moving quickly; Jack’s description of his mother worried me. I could tell she was suffering from a fever, with blood rushing to her head. My children followed me, and we soon arrived at the base of our castle in the air.


CHAPTER XXXIV.

We entered our apartment literally as if we had come out of the sea, and I found my poor Elizabeth much agitated. “Heaven be praised!” said she; “but where is Jack, that rash little fellow?”

We entered our apartment as if we had just come out of the ocean, and I found my poor Elizabeth quite upset. “Thank goodness!” she said; “but where is Jack, that reckless little guy?”

“Here I am, mamma,” said he, “as dry as when I left you. I have left my dress below, that I might not terrify you; for if Mr. Fritz had had his gun, I might have been shot as a rhinoceros, and not been here to tell you my story.”

“Here I am, Mom,” he said, “as dry as when I left you. I left my clothes downstairs so I wouldn’t scare you; because if Mr. Fritz had had his gun, I could have been shot like a rhinoceros, and wouldn't be here to tell you my story.”

The good mother then turned her thoughts on Fritz and me, and would not suffer us to come near her till we had changed our drenched garments. To oblige her, we retired to a little closet I had contrived between two thick branches at the top of the staircase, which was used to contain our chests of linen, our dresses, and our provisions. Our dress was soon changed; we hung up the wet garments, and I returned to my companion, who was suffering from her foot, but still more from a frightful headache. She had a burning fever. I concluded that bleeding was urgently needed, but commenced by assuaging her thirst with some lemonade. I then opened my box of surgical instruments, and approached the opening to the east which served us for a window, and which we could close by means of a curtain, that was now entirely raised to give air to our dear invalid, and to amuse my children, who were watching the storm. The mighty waves that broke against the rocks, the vivid lightning bursting through the castles of murky clouds, the majestic and incessant rolling of the thunder, formed one of those enchanting spectacles to which they had been from infancy accustomed. As in the Swiss mountains we are liable to frightful storms, to which it is necessary to familiarize oneself, as one cannot avoid them, I had accustomed my wife and children, by my own example, to behold, not only without fear, but even with admiration, these great shocks of the elements,—these convulsions of nature.

The good mother then focused her thoughts on Fritz and me, and wouldn't let us get close until we had changed out of our soaked clothes. To please her, we went to a small closet I had made between two thick branches at the top of the stairs, which was used to store our linen chests, dresses, and supplies. We quickly changed our clothes; we hung up the wet items, and I went back to my companion, who was in pain from her foot but even more from a terrible headache. She had a high fever. I decided that bleeding was urgently necessary, but first, I tried to ease her thirst with some lemonade. I then opened my box of surgical tools and approached the opening to the east that served as our window, which we could cover with a curtain, now fully raised to let in air for our dear invalid and to entertain my children, who were watching the storm. The huge waves crashing against the rocks, the bright lightning tearing through the dark clouds, and the powerful, constant rumbling of the thunder created one of those captivating sights to which they had become accustomed since childhood. Just like in the Swiss mountains, where we face terrifying storms that we must learn to accept since we can't avoid them, I had trained my wife and children, by my own example, to watch these dramatic displays of nature—not just without fear but with admiration.

I had opened the chest, and my children had directed their attention to the instruments it contained; the first were a little rusty, and I handed them to Ernest, who, after examining them, placed them on a table inside the window. I was searching for a lancet in good condition, when a clap of thunder, such as I had never heard in my life, terrified us all so much, that we nearly fell down. This burst of thunder had not been preceded by any lightning, but was accompanied by two immense forked columns of fire, which seemed to stretch from the sky to our very feet. We all cried out, even my poor wife; but the silence of terror succeeded, and seemed to be the silence of death. I flew to the bedside, and found my dear patient in a state of total insensibility. I was convinced that she was dead, and I was dumb with despair. I was roused from my stupor by the voice of my children. I then remembered that I had not lost all: there still remained duties to fulfil, and affection to console me. “My children,” cried I, extending my arms to them, “come and comfort your unfortunate father: come and lament with him the best of wives and mothers.” Terrified at the appearance of their mother, they surrounded her bed, calling on her in piercing accents. At that moment I saw my little Francis was missing, and my grief was augmented by the fear that he had been killed by the lightning. I hastily turned to the window, expecting to find my child dead, and our dwelling in flames. Fortunately, all was safe; but, in my distraction, I scarcely thanked God for His mercy, at the very moment even when he graciously restored to me my lost treasures. Francis, frightened by the storm, had hidden himself in his mother’s bed, and fallen asleep; awaked by the thunder, he had not dared to move, fearing it announced the arrival of the savages; but at last, the cries of his brothers roused him, and raising his pretty fair head, supposing his mother sleeping, he flung his arms round her neck, saying, “Wake, mamma, we are all here,—papa, my brothers, and the storm, too, which is very beautiful, but frightens me. Open your eyes, mamma; look at the bright lightning, and kiss your little Francis.” Either his sweet voice, or the cries of her elder children, restored her faculties: she gradually recovered, and called me to her. The excess of my joy threatened to be almost as fatal as my grief. With difficulty I controlled my own feelings and those of my boys; and, after I had sent them from the bed, I ascertained that she was not only really living, but much better. The pulse was calm, and the fever had subsided, leaving only a weakness that was by no means alarming. I relinquished, joyfully, the intention of bleeding her, the necessity of which I had trembled to contemplate, and contented myself with employing the boys to prepare a cooling mixture, composed of the juice of the lemon, of barley, and tamarinds, which they completed to the great satisfaction of their mother. I then ordered Fritz to descend to the yard, to kill a fowl, pluck and boil it, to make broth,—a wholesome and light nourishment for our dear invalid. I told one of his brothers to assist him, and Jack and Francis, frequently employed under their mother, were ready in a moment. Ernest alone remained quietly on his seat, which I attributed to his usual indolence, and tried to make him ashamed of it. “Ernest,” said I, “you are not very anxious to oblige your mother; you sit as if the thunderbolt had struck you.”

I had opened the chest, and my kids focused on the instruments inside; the first ones were a bit rusty, and I handed them to Ernest, who examined them before placing them on a table near the window. I was looking for a lancet in good shape when a clap of thunder, unlike anything I had ever heard, terrified us all so much that we nearly fell over. This thunderclap hadn't been preceded by any lightning, but it was accompanied by two massive forked columns of fire that seemed to reach from the sky to our feet. We all screamed, even my poor wife, but then there was a terrifying silence that felt like death. I rushed to the bedside and found my dear patient completely unresponsive. I was convinced she was dead, and I was overwhelmed with despair. My children’s voices brought me back to reality. I then remembered I hadn’t lost everything: there were still responsibilities to fulfill and love to comfort me. “My kids,” I cried, reaching out to them, “come and comfort your unfortunate father: come and mourn with him the best of wives and mothers.” Terrified by the sight of their mother, they gathered around her bed, calling out to her in desperate tones. At that moment, I realized little Francis was missing, and my grief grew with the fear that he might have been struck by lightning. I quickly turned to the window, expecting to find my child dead and our home in flames. Fortunately, everything was safe; in my panic, I barely thanked God for His mercy at the very moment He graciously returned my lost treasures. Francis, frightened by the storm, had hidden in his mother’s bed and fallen asleep; upon waking from the thunder, he hadn’t dared to move, fearing it signaled the arrival of danger; but finally, his brothers’ cries woke him, and lifting his cute fair head, he thought his mother was asleep and threw his arms around her neck, saying, “Wake, mama, we’re all here—papa, my brothers, and the storm, too, which is very beautiful but scares me. Open your eyes, mama; look at the bright lightning and kiss your little Francis.” Either his sweet voice or the calls of her older children helped her regain her senses: she gradually recovered and called for me. My overwhelming joy was almost as dangerous as my grief. I struggled to control my emotions and those of my boys; once I sent them from the bed, I found that she was not only alive but also much better. Her pulse was steady, and the fever had gone down, leaving just a slight weakness that wasn't concerning. I gladly let go of my plan to bleed her, which had terrified me, and focused on having the boys prepare a cooling mixture made from lemon juice, barley, and tamarinds, which they made to their mother’s great satisfaction. I then instructed Fritz to go to the yard, kill a chicken, pluck it, and boil it to make broth—a light and nutritious meal for our dear patient. I told one of his brothers to help him, and Jack and Francis, who often helped their mother, were instantly ready. Only Ernest stayed quietly in his seat, which I attributed to his usual laziness, and I tried to shame him out of it. “Ernest,” I said, “you don’t seem very eager to help your mother; you’re sitting there as if a thunderbolt had struck you.”

“It has, indeed, rendered me unfit to be of any service to my good mother,” said he, quietly; and, drawing his right hand from under his waistcoat, he showed it to me, most frightfully black and burnt.

“It has really made me incapable of being any help to my good mother,” he said quietly; and, pulling his right hand out from under his waistcoat, he showed it to me, looking terribly black and burnt.

This dear child, who must have suffered very much, had never uttered a complaint, for fear of alarming his mother; and even now he made a sign to me to be silent, lest she should hear, and discover the truth. She soon, however, fell into a sleep, which enabled me to attend to poor Ernest, and to question him about the accident. I learned that a long and pointed steel instrument, which he was examining near the large window, stooping over it to see it better, had attracted the lightning, which, falling partly on the hand in which he held it, had caused the misfortune. There were traces on his arm of the electric fire, and his hair was burnt on one side. By what miracle the electric fluid had been diverted, and how we, dwelling in a tree, had been preserved from a sudden and general conflagration, I knew not. My son assured me he had seen the fire run along the instrument he held, and from thence fall perpendicularly to the earth, where it seemed to burst with a second explosion. I was impatient to examine this phenomenon, and to see if any other traces were left, except those on the hand of my son, which it was necessary, in the first place, to attend to. I remembered frequently to have applied with success in burns the most simple and easy of remedies, which everybody can command: this is, to bathe the hand affected in cold water, taking care to renew it every eight or ten minutes. I placed Ernest between two tubs of cold water, and, exhorting him to patience and perseverance, I left him to bathe his hand, and approached the opening, to try and discover what had preserved us, by averting the direction of the lightning, which one might have expected would have killed my son, and destroyed our dwelling. I saw only some light traces on the table; but, on looking more attentively, I found that the greater part of the surgical instruments which Ernest had placed upon it were either melted or much damaged. In examining them separately, I remarked one much longer than the rest, which projected beyond the edge of the table, and was much marked by the fire. I could not easily take it up; it had adhered somewhat in melting, and, in endeavouring to disengage it, I saw that the point, which was beyond the opening, touched a thick wire, which seemed to be suspended from the roof of our tent. All was now explained to me; except that I could in no way account for this wire, placed expressly to serve as a conductor for the lightning. It seemed to be the work of magic. The evening was too far advanced for me to distinguish how it was fastened, and what fixed it below; therefore, enjoining Ernest to call loudly if he needed me, I hastened down. I saw my three cooks very busy, as I passed through, preparing the broth for their mother—they assured me it would be excellent. Fritz boasted that he had killed the fowl with all speed, Jack that he had plucked it without tearing it much, and Francis that he had lighted and kept up the fire. They had nothing to employ them just then, and I took them with me to have some one to talk to on the phenomenon of the lightning. Below the window I found a large packet of iron wire, which I had brought from Tent House some days before, intending on some leisure day to make a sort of grating before our poultry-yard. By what chance was it here, and hooked by one end to the roof of our house? Some time before I had replaced our cloth canopy by a sort of roof covered with bark nailed upon laths; the cloth still enclosed the sides and front; all was so inflammable, that, but for the providential conductor, we must have been in flames in an instant. I thanked God for our preservation; and little Francis, seeing me so happy, said—

This dear child, who must have suffered a lot, had never complained, fearing it would worry his mother; and even now he signaled me to be quiet, so she wouldn't hear and find out the truth. Soon, though, she fell asleep, allowing me to focus on poor Ernest and ask him about the accident. He explained that a long, pointed metal tool he was looking at near the big window, bending down to see it better, had attracted the lightning, which struck partially through the hand he was holding it with, causing the accident. There were marks on his arm from the electric shock, and his hair was singed on one side. I didn't understand how the electric current had been redirected, or how we, living in a tree, had been spared from a sudden and massive fire. My son told me he had seen the electric current travel along the tool he was holding, then drop straight to the ground, where it appeared to explode again. I was eager to investigate this phenomenon and see if there were any other signs left besides those on my son's hand, which I first needed to attend to. I remembered having successfully treated burns before using a simple and easy remedy that anyone could do: soaking the affected hand in cold water, changing it every eight to ten minutes. I placed Ernest between two tubs of cold water and, encouraging him to be patient and persistent, I left him to soak his hand while I approached the opening to try to figure out what had protected us by diverting the lightning, which could have killed my son and destroyed our home. I only saw some light marks on the table; however, upon closer inspection, I realized that most of the surgical tools Ernest had set out were either melted or severely damaged. Examining them one by one, I noticed one tool much longer than the others, sticking out over the edge of the table and badly scorched. It was difficult to pick it up; it had partially melted and stuck to the table. When I tried to get it free, I saw that the point of it, which was hanging over the edge, touched a thick wire that appeared to be hanging from the roof of our tent. Everything became clear to me, except for how the wire had been placed there specifically to act as a lightning conductor. It seemed like magic. The evening was too far gone for me to see how it was secured and what held it down below; therefore, telling Ernest to call out loudly if he needed me, I rushed downstairs. As I passed through, I saw my three cooks busy preparing broth for their mother—they assured me it would be excellent. Fritz bragged about how he had quickly killed the chicken, Jack about plucking it without much tearing, and Francis about lighting and keeping the fire going. They had nothing else to do at that moment, and I decided to take them with me to discuss the lightning phenomenon. Below the window, I found a large bundle of iron wire that I had brought from Tent House a few days earlier, planning to make a kind of grate for our poultry yard on a day when I had some free time. How had it gotten here, and why was one end hooked to the roof of our house? Some time ago, I had replaced our cloth canopy with a roof made of bark nailed onto laths; the cloth still covered the sides and front; everything was so flammable that, without the lucky conductor, we would have been engulfed in flames in no time. I thanked God for our safety; and little Francis, seeing me so happy, said—

“Is it quite true, papa, that this wire has preserved us?”

“Is it really true, Dad, that this wire has saved us?”

“Yes, it is true, my darling; and I wish to know what good genius has placed it there, that I may be thankful,” said I.

“Yeah, it’s true, my love; and I want to know what good spirit put it there so I can be grateful,” I said.

“Ah! father,” said my little fellow, “embrace me, but do not thank me; for I did not know that I was doing good.”

“Ah! Dad,” said my little guy, “hug me, but don’t thank me; I didn’t realize I was doing something good.”

Astonished at this information, I requested my boy to tell me why and how he had fixed the wire?

Astonished by this information, I asked my boy to explain why and how he had fixed the wire.

“I wanted to reach some figs,” said he, “when you and Fritz were at Tent House, and Jack and Ernest were nursing mamma; I wished to do some good for her. I thought she would like some of our sweet figs; but there were none in my reach, and I had no stick long enough to beat them down. I went below, and found that great roll of wire. I tried to break a piece off, but could not; and I then determined to carry the whole up to our dwelling, and to bend one end into a hook, by which I might catch some of the branches, and bring them near me to gather the figs. I was very successful at first, and secured one or two figs. I had my packet of wire on the table by the window, and stood near it myself. I thought I could reach a branch that hung over our roof, loaded with fruit. I leaned forward, and extended my hook to the branch; I felt I had secured it, and joyfully began to pull. You know, papa, they bend, and don’t break; but it remained immovable, as well as my hook, which was held by one of the laths of the roof. I pulled with all my strength, and, in my efforts, I struck my foot against the roll of wire, which fell down to the ground without detaching the hook. You may judge how firm it is, for it is no trifling leap from our house to the ground.”

“I wanted to grab some figs,” he said, “when you and Fritz were at Tent House, and Jack and Ernest were taking care of mom; I wanted to do something nice for her. I thought she would enjoy some of our sweet figs, but there were none within reach, and I didn't have a stick long enough to knock them down. I went downstairs and found that big roll of wire. I tried to snap off a piece, but I couldn’t; so I decided to carry the whole roll back to our place and bend one end into a hook, so I could catch some branches and pull them closer to get the figs. I was pretty successful at first and managed to grab one or two figs. I had the wire on the table by the window and was standing near it. I thought I could reach a branch hanging over our roof, full of fruit. I leaned forward and extended my hook to the branch; I felt I had caught it and joyfully started to pull. You know, dad, they bend but don’t break; however, it stayed stuck along with my hook, which was caught on one of the roof beams. I pulled with all my strength, and in my struggle, I kicked the roll of wire, which fell to the ground without dislodging the hook. You can imagine how sturdy it is, since it’s quite a drop from our house to the ground.”

“A good work, indeed, my boy,” said I, “is yours, for it has saved us. God has inspired you, and has made use of the hand of a child for our preservation. Your conductor shall remain where you have so happily placed it; we may still have need of it. The sky still looks very threatening; let us return to your mother, and take a light with us.”

“A great job, really, my boy,” I said, “it’s yours because it has saved us. God has inspired you and used the hand of a child for our safety. Your conductor will stay right where you’ve happily put it; we might still need it. The sky still looks pretty threatening; let’s go back to your mom and take a light with us.”

I had contrived a sort of portable lantern, made of isinglass, which lighted us in our offices. Moreover, a calibash pierced with small holes, with a candle inside, was placed at the top of the winding staircase, and lighted it entirely, so that we were able to descend without danger by night as w ell as by day. I was, however, uneasy about the way we should bring my wife down, if we found it necessary to remove her during her sickness; I named it to Fritz.

I had come up with a kind of portable lantern made of isinglass that lit up our workspaces. In addition, a carved gourd with small holes and a candle inside was set at the top of the winding staircase, providing enough light for us to go down safely at night as well as during the day. However, I was worried about how we would get my wife down if we needed to move her during her illness; I mentioned it to Fritz.

“Have no uneasiness, father,” said he, “Ernest and I are very strong now, and we can carry mamma like a feather.”

“Don’t worry, Dad,” he said, “Ernest and I are really strong now, and we can carry Mom like she’s feather-light.”

“You and I might, my dear boy,” said I; “but Ernest cannot be of much assistance to us at present.”

“You and I might, my dear boy,” I said; “but Ernest can’t really help us right now.”

I then related his misfortune to them. They were distressed and astonished, not comprehending the cause, which I promised to explain. They wished now, however, to see their brother. Fritz then requested, in a low tone of voice, that he might go to Tent House, to see if the vessel and the captain had arrived. Seeing his brothers listening with curiosity, I thought it best to tell them the affair, requesting them, however, not to name it to their mother at present. Jack, who was now about fourteen years of age, listened with the most intense interest, his eyes sparkling with joy and surprise.

I then told them about his misfortune. They were upset and shocked, not understanding the reason, which I promised to explain. However, they wanted to see their brother now. Fritz then asked quietly if he could go to Tent House to check if the ship and the captain had arrived. Noticing his brothers listening with interest, I figured it was best to share the situation, but I asked them not to mention it to their mother for now. Jack, who was now around fourteen, listened with great interest, his eyes shining with excitement and surprise.

“A vessel!—people from Europe! Do you think they have come to seek us? Perhaps they are our relations and friends.”

“A ship!—people from Europe! Do you think they’ve come to find us? Maybe they’re our relatives and friends.”

“How glad should I be,” said Francis, “if my good grandmamma were there; she loved me so much, and was always giving me sweetmeats.” This was the mother of my dear wife, from whom she had parted with extreme regret; I knew that a single word from the child would have revived all her sorrows, and would in her present state be dangerous. I therefore forbade him naming such a thing to his mother, even if we mentioned the vessel.

“How happy I would be,” said Francis, “if my lovely grandma were here; she loved me so much and always gave me treats.” This was my dear wife's mother, whom she had separated from with great sadness; I knew that a single word from the child could have stirred up all her grief, which would be risky for her in her current state. So, I told him not to mention anything like that to his mother, even if we talked about the ship.

We ascended, and found our dear patient awake, with Ernest at her side, his hand tied up, and somewhat relieved; though, from not having applied the water immediately, there were several blisters, which he requested me to open. It was necessary to tell his mother he had had a burn; she named several remedies, and I was hesitating which to use, when Fritz, giving me a significant glance, said, “Don’t you think, father, that the leaves of the karata, which cured Jack’s leg so well, would be as serviceable to Ernest’s hand?”

We climbed up and found our dear patient awake, with Ernest by her side, his hand bandaged and looking a bit better; however, since we hadn’t treated the burn right away, there were several blisters that he asked me to pop. It was important to tell his mother about the burn; she suggested several remedies, and I was debating which one to use when Fritz, giving me a meaningful look, said, “Don’t you think, Dad, that the leaves of the karata, which healed Jack’s leg so well, would also help Ernest’s hand?”

“I have no doubt of it,” said I; “but we have none here.”

“I have no doubt about it,” I said; “but we don’t have any here.”

“I know very well where they grow,” said he. “Come, Jack, we shall soon be there; we shall have a little rain, but what of that? we shall not be melted, and we can have a bath.”

“I know exactly where they grow,” he said. “Come on, Jack, we’ll be there soon; we might get a little rain, but so what? We won’t melt, and we can take a bath.”

My wife was divided between her desire to relieve Ernest, and her fear of the boys venturing out in such a stormy night. She agreed at last, provided Jack had my cloak, and Fritz the boots, and that they should take the lantern. Thus equipped, they set out; I accompanied them outside the tree; Fritz assuring me they would be back in three hours, at most. He intended to proceed along the rocks towards Tent House, to make what observations he could; for, as he told me, he could not get the poor captain and his vessel out of his head. It was now seven o’clock; I gave them my blessing, and left them with injunctions to be prudent, and returned with an anxious heart to my invalids.

My wife was torn between wanting to help Ernest and being worried about the boys going out on such a stormy night. She finally agreed, as long as Jack had my cloak, Fritz wore the boots, and they took the lantern. With that, they set off; I walked them to the edge of the tree, and Fritz promised me they’d be back in no more than three hours. He planned to make his way along the rocks toward Tent House to see what he could find out because, as he said, he couldn’t stop thinking about the poor captain and his ship. It was now seven o’clock; I gave them my blessing, reminded them to be careful, and returned with a worried heart to my sick ones.


CHAPTER XXXV.

On entering, I found Francis sitting on his mother’s bed, telling her the story of the lightning, of the wire which was called a conductor, of the figs that he was going to gather for her, and that papa had called him—little Francis—the preserver of the whole family. Having briefly explained to them the results of Francis’s fortunate device, I procured some raw potato to apply to Ernest’s hand, which still gave him great pain, and bathed my wife’s foot with some eau d’arquebusade, which I procured from my medicine-chest; here I also met with some laudanum, a few drops of which I infused into the lemonade, wishing her to sleep till her sons returned. She soon was in a sweet slumber; the boys followed her example, and I was left alone with my anxieties; happy, however, to see them at rest after such an evening of agitation. The hours passed, still my children returned not. I was continually at the window, listening for their steps or the sound of their voices; I heard only the rain falling in torrents, the waves breaking against the rocks, and the wind howling frightfully. I could not help thinking of the danger they ran, having twice to cross the river, which was doubtless swollen by the rain. I was not so much alarmed for Fritz, a strong, bold youth of nineteen years of age, and a determined hunter: as for poor Jack, bold even to rashness, and having neither strength nor experience to secure him, I could not help fancying him carried away by the stream, and his brother not daring to return without him. My wife occasionally awoke, but the narcotic stupified her; she did not perceive the absence of her sons. Francis slept tranquilly; but when Ernest awoke, and heard the tempest so terribly augmented, he was almost distracted; all his selfishness, all his indolence disappeared. He entreated me to allow him to go in search of his brothers, and with difficulty I detained him. To convince him that he was not the sole cause of the danger of Fritz and Jack, I related to him, for the first time, the history of the boat and the vessel, and assured him that the great cause of their anxiety to go over to Tent House, was to search for some traces of the unfortunate seamen and their vessel, exposed to that furious sea.

When I walked in, I found Francis sitting on his mother’s bed, telling her about the lightning, the wire called a conductor, the figs he was going to pick for her, and how Dad called him—little Francis—the preserver of the whole family. After I quickly explained to them the outcomes of Francis’s clever idea, I got some raw potato to put on Ernest’s hand, which was still hurting him a lot, and I soaked my wife’s foot in some eau d’arquebusade that I found in my medicine cabinet; I also discovered some laudanum, and added a few drops to the lemonade, hoping she would sleep until her sons got back. She quickly drifted off into a peaceful sleep; the boys followed her lead, leaving me alone with my worries; but I was glad to see them resting after such a stressful evening. The hours went by, and still, my children didn’t come back. I kept going to the window, listening for their footsteps or voices. All I heard was the rain pouring down, the waves crashing against the rocks, and the wind howling violently. I couldn’t help but think about the danger they were in, having to cross the river twice, which was surely swollen from the rain. I wasn’t too worried about Fritz, a strong, bold nineteen-year-old and a determined hunter; but for poor Jack, who was brave to the point of recklessness and had neither strength nor experience to protect him, I couldn’t shake the thought of him being swept away by the current, with his brother too afraid to go back without him. My wife woke up occasionally, but the sedative had her in a daze; she didn’t notice that her sons were missing. Francis was sleeping soundly, but when Ernest woke up and heard the storm raging outside, he was nearly frantic; all his selfishness and laziness vanished. He begged me to let him go look for his brothers, and I struggled to hold him back. To show him that he wasn’t the only reason for Fritz and Jack’s danger, I shared with him, for the first time, the story about the boat and the ship, and I assured him that the main reason they were so anxious to head over to Tent House was to search for any signs of the unfortunate sailors and their ship, which were at the mercy of that violent sea.

“And Fritz, also, is exposed to that sea,” cried Ernest. “I know it; I am sure that he is at this moment in his canoe, struggling against the waves!”

“And Fritz is out there on that sea too,” Ernest shouted. “I know it; I’m sure he’s in his canoe right now, fighting against the waves!”

“And Jack, my poor Jack!” sighed I, infected with his fears.

“And Jack, my poor Jack!” I sighed, catching his fears.

“No, father,” added Ernest; “be composed; Fritz will not be so imprudent; he will have left Jack in our house at the rock; and, probably, seeing the hopelessness of his undertaking, he is returned himself now, and is waiting there till the stream subsides a little; do allow me to go, dear father; you have ordered me cold water for my burnt hand, and it will certainly cure it to get well wet.”

“No, Dad,” Ernest added. “Stay calm; Fritz won't be reckless. He probably left Jack at our place by the rock, and realizing how hopeless his mission is, he’s likely come back and is waiting there for the stream to calm down a bit. Please let me go, Dad; you asked me to use cold water for my burned hand, and it will definitely help to soak it.”

I could not consent to expose my third son to the tempest, which was now become frightful; the sailcloth which covered our window was torn into a thousand pieces, and carried away; the rain, like a deluge, forced itself into our dwelling, even to the bed where my wife and child were lying. I could neither make up my mind to leave them myself in this perilous situation, nor to spare my boy, who could not even be of any use to his brothers. I commanded him to remain, succeeded in persuading him of their probable safety, and induced him to lie down to rest. Now, in my terrible solitude, I turned to Him, “who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb;” who forbids us not to address Him in the trials he sends us, to beseech Him to soften them, or to give us strength to bear them. Kneeling down, I dared to supplicate Him to restore me my children, submissively adding, after the example of our blessed Saviour, “Yet, not my will, but thine be done, O Lord.”

I couldn't agree to put my third son in danger from the storm, which had now become terrifying. The sailcloth covering our window was ripped into a thousand pieces and blown away; the rain, like a flood, was pouring into our home, even onto the bed where my wife and child were lying. I couldn't decide whether to leave them in this dangerous situation or to spare my boy, who wouldn't even be able to help his brothers. I told him to stay, managed to convince him that they were probably safe, and got him to lie down to rest. Now, in my awful solitude, I turned to Him "who calms the wind for the helpless lamb;" who allows us to call on Him during the trials He sends our way, to ask Him to lessen them, or to give us the strength to endure them. Kneeling down, I dared to ask Him to bring my children back, humbly adding, following the example of our blessed Savior, “Yet, not my will, but yours be done, O Lord.”

My prayers appeared to be heard; the storm gradually abated, and the day began to break. I awoke Ernest, and having dressed his wounded hand, he set out for Tent House, in search of his brothers. I followed him with my eyes as far as I could see; the whole country appeared one vast lake, and the road to Tent House was like the bed of a river; but, protected by his good gaiters of buffalo-skin, he proceeded fearlessly, and was soon out of my sight.

My prayers seemed to be answered; the storm slowly faded, and the day started to dawn. I woke up Ernest, and after bandaging his injured hand, he headed toward Tent House to look for his brothers. I watched him as far as I could see; the entire area looked like a huge lake, and the path to Tent House resembled a riverbed. But, thanks to his sturdy buffalo-skin gaiters, he moved forward without fear and quickly disappeared from view.

I was recalled from the window by the voice of my wife, who was awake, and anxiously inquiring for her sons.

I was brought back from the window by my wife's voice, which was filled with concern as she asked about our sons.

“They are gone,” said I, “to gather the leaves of the karata for Ernest’s burnt hand, and he wished to go too.”

“They're gone," I said, "to collect the karata leaves for Ernest's burned hand, and he wanted to go too."

Her deep sleep had entirely chased from her memory all the events of the previous evening, and I was glad to allow Francis to repeat his little tale of the burn and his conductor in order to gain time. She was astonished and uneasy to hear of Ernest’s accident, and was afraid they would get wet in searching for the karata, little aware of the hours of anguish I had endured waiting and watching for those she believed had only just left home. At that moment, the dear and well-known voices were heard under the great window.

Her deep sleep had completely wiped out all the memories of the previous evening, and I was happy to let Francis retell his little story about the burn and his conductor to buy some time. She was shocked and worried to hear about Ernest’s accident, fearing they would get wet while looking for the karata, unaware of the hours of distress I had experienced waiting and watching for those she thought had just left home. At that moment, the familiar and beloved voices could be heard under the large window.

“Father, I am bringing back my brothers,” cried Ernest.

“Dad, I’m bringing back my brothers,” cried Ernest.

“Yes, papa, we are all alive, and as wet as fishes,” added the sweet voice of Jack.

“Yes, dad, we’re all here, and as wet as fish,” added Jack's cheerful voice.

“But not without having had our troubles,” said the manly voice of Fritz.

"But not without having our issues," said Fritz in a strong voice.

I rushed down the staircase to meet them, and, embracing them, I led them, trembling with emotion, to the bed of their mother, who could not comprehend the transport of joy I expressed.

I hurried down the stairs to meet them, and, hugging them tightly, I guided them, shaking with emotion, to their mother’s bed, who couldn’t understand the overwhelming joy I felt.

“Dear Elizabeth,” said I, “here are our sons; God has given them to us a second time.”

“Dear Elizabeth,” I said, “here are our sons; God has blessed us with them again.”

“Have we then been in any danger of losing them?” said she. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Have we really been in any danger of losing them?” she asked. “What does this mean?”

They saw their mother was unconscious of their long absence, and assured her it was only the storm which had so completely wetted them, that had alarmed me. I hastened to get them to change their clothes, and go to bed a little while to rest themselves; as, however anxious I was myself, I wished to prepare my wife for their recital, and also to tell her of the vessel. Jack would not go till he had produced his bundle of the karata-leaves.

They noticed that their mom was unaware of how long they had been gone and reassured her that it was just the storm that had soaked them, which had worried me. I quickly got them to change their clothes and rest in bed for a little while; even though I was really anxious, I wanted to get my wife ready for their story and also to tell her about the boat. Jack refused to leave until he showed off his bundle of karata leaves.

“There is enough for six-and-thirty thunderstorms,” said he; “and I will prepare them. I have had some experience with my own, and I know the best method.”

“There’s enough for thirty-six thunderstorms,” he said; “and I’ll get them ready. I’ve had some experience with my own, and I know the best way to do it.”

He soon divided one of the leaves with his knife, after cutting away the triangular thorn from the end, and applied it to his brother’s hand, binding it with his handkerchief. Having completed this dressing, he threw off his clothes, and, jumping into his bed, he and his brothers were sound asleep in ten minutes.

He quickly split one of the leaves with his knife after trimming off the triangular thorn from the tip, and then applied it to his brother’s hand, wrapping it with his handkerchief. Once he finished this makeshift bandage, he undressed and jumped into bed, and within ten minutes, he and his brothers were fast asleep.

I then sat down by my wife, and began my tale; from my first view of the vessel, and my anxious watching for intercourse with it, in order that we might take the opportunity to return to Europe.

I then sat down next to my wife and started my story; from the moment I first saw the ship and my anxious waiting for a chance to connect with it so we could seize the opportunity to return to Europe.

“But why should we return to Europe?” said she; “we want nothing here now, since I have got flax, cotton, and a wheel. Our children lead an active, healthy, and innocent life, and live with us, which they might not do in the world. For four years we have been happy here, and what shall we find in Europe to compensate us for what we leave here?—poverty, war, and none of those things which we have here abundantly.”

“But why should we go back to Europe?” she said. “We don’t need anything here now, especially since I have flax, cotton, and a wheel. Our kids have a lively, healthy, and innocent life, and they live with us, which they might not be able to do out there. We’ve been happy here for four years, and what are we going to find in Europe that can make up for what we’re leaving behind?—poverty, war, and none of the things we have plenty of here.”

“But we should find grandmamma,” said little Francis; and stopped, recollecting my prohibition.

“But we should find Grandma,” said little Francis; and stopped, remembering my warning.

He had, however, said sufficient to bring tears to his mother’s eyes.

He had, however, said enough to bring tears to his mother’s eyes.

“You are right, my darling,” said she, “that is my sole regret; but my dear parent was aged and infirm, in all probability I should no longer find her in this world; and if removed to Heaven, she watches over us in this island, as well as if we were in Europe.”

“You're right, my love,” she said, “that's my only regret; but my dear parent was old and unwell, and chances are I wouldn’t find her still here in this world; and if she has moved on to Heaven, she watches over us on this island just as much as if we were in Europe.”

After my dear wife had subdued the agitation this remembrance caused her, I pursued the conversation as follows:—

After my beloved wife calmed down from the anxiety this memory caused her, I continued the conversation like this:—


CHAPTER XXXVI.

“I see, my dear wife,” said I, “that you, as well as the rest of my family, are contented to remain on this island, where it seems it is the will of God for us to dwell, as it is improbable that in such a tempest Captain Johnson would risk approaching the island, if indeed it has not been already fatal to him. I am impatient to learn if Fritz has any tidings of him; for it was on the shore near Tent House that he and Jack passed the night.”

“I see, my dear wife,” I said, “that you, like the rest of my family, are happy to stay on this island, where it seems God wants us to live. It's unlikely that Captain Johnson would take the risk to approach the island in such a storm, if he hasn't already met with a bad fate. I’m eager to hear if Fritz has any news about him because it was on the shore near Tent House that he and Jack spent the night.”

“Well done, my good and courageous boys!” said their mother; “they might at any rate have given assistance to them if wrecked.”

“Well done, my brave and good boys!” said their mother. “They could have at least offered help if they were stranded.”

“You are more courageous than I am, my dear Elizabeth,” answered I; “I have passed the whole night mourning for my children, and you think only of the good they might have done to their fellow-creatures.”

“You're braver than I am, my dear Elizabeth,” I replied. “I've spent the entire night grieving for my children, while you focus solely on the good they could have done for others.”

My sons were awake by this time, and I eagerly inquired if they had discovered any traces of the vessel. Fritz said they had not; but he feared it would never be able to resist the fury of the tempest.

My sons were awake by then, and I eagerly asked if they had found any signs of the ship. Fritz said they hadn’t; but he was worried it wouldn’t be able to withstand the force of the storm.

“No, indeed,” said Jack; “those mountains of waves, which were not fixtures like other mountains, came full gallop to swallow up Fritz the great, Jack the little, and their fine canoe.”

“No, definitely,” said Jack; “those towering waves, which weren’t permanent like other mountains, came charging in to swallow up Fritz the great, Jack the little, and their sleek canoe.”

My wife nearly fainted when she heard they had ventured on that terrible sea; and I reminded Fritz that I had forbidden him to do this.

My wife almost passed out when she found out they had gone out on that dangerous sea, and I reminded Fritz that I had told him not to do it.

“But you have often said to me, papa,” said he, “do unto others as you would they should do unto you; and what a happiness it would have been to us, when our vessel was wrecked, if we had seen a canoe!”

"But you've often told me, Dad," he said, "treat others how you'd want to be treated; and how wonderful it would have been for us, when our boat sank, if we had seen a canoe!"

“With two bold men coming to our assistance,” said Jack;—“but go on with your story, Fritz.”

“With two brave guys coming to help us,” said Jack;—“but keep going with your story, Fritz.”

Fritz continued: “We proceeded first to the rocks, and, with some difficulty, and not until Jack had shed some blood in the cause, we secured the karata-leaves, with their ugly thorns at the end. When our sack was full, we proceeded along the rocks towards Tent House. From this height I tried to discover the ship, but the darkness obscured everything. Once I thought I perceived at a great distance a fixed light, which was neither a star nor the lightning, and which I lost sight of occasionally. We had now arrived at the cascade, which, from the noise, seemed much swollen by the rain—our great stones were quite hidden by a boiling foam. I would have attempted to cross, if I had been alone; but, with Jack on my shoulders, I was afraid of the risk. I therefore prepared to follow the course of the river to Family Bridge. The wet ground continually brought us on our knees, and with great difficulty we reached the bridge. But judge of our consternation! the river had risen so much that the planks were covered, and, as we conceived, the whole was destroyed. I then told Jack to return to Falcon’s Nest with the karata-leaves, and I would swim across the river. I returned about a hundred yards up the stream to find a wider and less rapid part, and easily crossed. Judge of my surprise when I saw a human figure approaching to meet me; I had no doubt it was the captain of the vessel, and—”

Fritz continued: “We first headed to the rocks, and after some effort—and not before Jack had had a painful encounter—we managed to collect the karata leaves, despite their nasty thorns. Once our sack was full, we made our way along the rocks towards Tent House. From that height, I tried to spot the ship, but the darkness made it impossible to see anything. At one point, I thought I saw a distant fixed light that wasn’t a star or lightning, but it was hard to keep my eyes on it. We finally reached the waterfall, which was roaring loudly, suggesting it had swelled from the rain—our big rocks were completely hidden beneath the foamy water. If I had been alone, I would have tried to cross, but with Jack on my back, I didn’t want to take the risk. So, I decided to follow the river to Family Bridge. The wet ground kept forcing us to our knees, and it took a lot of effort to reach the bridge. But imagine our shock! The river had risen so high that the planks were submerged, and it seemed like everything was destroyed. I then told Jack to head back to Falcon’s Nest with the karata leaves, and I would swim across the river. I walked about a hundred yards upstream to find a wider and calmer spot, and I crossed easily. Imagine my surprise when I saw a figure approaching me; I was convinced it was the captain of the ship, and—”

“And it was Captain Jack, sans peur et sans reproche,” said the bold little fellow. “I was determined not to return home a poltroon who was afraid of the water.” When Fritz was gone, I tried the bridge, and soon found there was not sufficient water over it to risk my being drowned. I took off my boots, which might have made me slip, and my cloak, which was too heavy, and, making a dart, I ran with all my strength across, and reached the other side. I put on my boots, which I had in my hands, and advanced to meet Fritz, who called out, as soon as he saw me, “Is it you, captain?” I tried to say, “Yes, certainly,” in a deep tone, but my laughter betrayed me.

“And it was Captain Jack, without fear and without blame,” said the brave little guy. “I was determined not to go home a coward afraid of the water.” After Fritz left, I tested the bridge and quickly realized there wasn’t enough water over it to risk drowning. I took off my boots, which might make me slip, and my cloak, which was too heavy. Then, I took off running as fast as I could across it and made it to the other side. I put my boots back on, which I had been holding, and walked up to Fritz, who shouted as soon as he saw me, “Is that you, captain?” I tried to respond with a deep, “Yes, of course,” but my laughter gave me away.

“To my great regret;” said Fritz, “I should truly have preferred meeting Captain Johnson; but I fear he and his people are at the bottom of the sea. After meeting with Jack, we proceeded to Tent House, where we kindled a good fire, and dried ourselves a little. We then refreshed ourselves with some wine which remained on the table where you had entertained the captain, and proceeded to prepare a signal to inform the vessel we were ready to receive them. We procured a thick bamboo cane from the magazine; I fixed firmly to one end of it the large lantern of the fish’s bladder you gave us to take; I filled the lamp with oil, and placed in it a thick cotton-wick, which, when lighted, was very brilliant. Jack and I then placed it on the shore, at the entrance of the bay. We fixed it before the rock, where the land-wind would not reach it, sunk it three or four feet into the ground, steadied it with stones, and then went to rest over our fire, after this long and difficult labour. After drying ourselves a little, we set out on our return, when, looking towards the sea, we were startled by the appearance of the same light we had noticed before; we heard, at the same time, the distant report of a gun, which was repeated three or four times at irregular intervals. We were persuaded that it was the vessel calling to us for aid, and, remembering the command of our Saviour, we thought you would forgive our disobedience if we presented to you in the morning the captain, the lieutenant, and as many as our canoe would contain. We entered it then without any fear, for you know how light and well-balanced it is; and, rowing into the bay, the sail was spread to the wind, and we had no more trouble. I then took the helm; my own signal-light shone clearly on the shore; and, except for the rain which fell in torrents, the waves which washed over our canoe, and uneasiness about the ship and about you, and our fear that the wind might carry us into the open sea, we should have had a delightful little maritime excursion. When we got out of the bay, I perceived the wind was driving us towards Shark’s Island, which, being directly before the bay, forms two entrances to it. I intended to go round it, and disembark there, if possible, that I might look out for some trace of the ship, but we found this impossible; the sea ran too high; besides, we should have been unable to moor our canoe, the island not affording a single tree or anything we could lash it to, and the waves would soon have carried it away. We had now lost sight of the light, and hearing no more signals, I began to think on your distress when we did not arrive at the hour we promised. I therefore resolved to return by the other side of the bay, carefully avoiding the current, which would have carried us into the open sea. I lowered the sail by means of the ropes you had fixed to it, and we rowed into port. We carefully moored the canoe, and, without returning to Tent House, took the road home. We crossed the bridge as Jack had done, found the waterproof cloak and bag of karata-leaves where he had left them, and soon after met Ernest. As it was daylight, I did not take him for the captain, but knew him immediately, and felt the deepest remorse when I heard from him in what anxiety and anguish you had passed the night. Our enterprise was imprudent, and altogether useless; but we might have saved life, which would have been an ample remuneration. I fear all is hopeless. What do you think, father, of their fate?”

"To my great regret," said Fritz, "I would have really preferred to meet Captain Johnson, but I fear he and his crew are at the bottom of the sea. After meeting up with Jack, we went to Tent House, where we started a good fire and dried off a bit. We then enjoyed some wine that was left on the table where you had hosted the captain, and began preparing a signal to let the vessel know we were ready for them. We grabbed a thick bamboo cane from the storage; I securely attached the large lantern made from the fish’s bladder that you gave us to take. I filled the lamp with oil and put in a thick cotton wick, which, when lit, was very bright. Jack and I then placed it on the shore at the entrance of the bay. We positioned it in front of the rock, where the land breeze wouldn’t reach it, sunk it three or four feet into the ground, steadied it with stones, and then rested by our fire after this long and difficult task. After drying off a bit, we set out on our return, when, looking toward the sea, we were startled by the same light we had noticed before; at the same time, we heard the distant sound of a gun, which repeated three or four times at irregular intervals. We were convinced that it was the vessel calling for our help, and remembering our Savior's command, we thought you would forgive our disobedience if we brought you, in the morning, the captain, the lieutenant, and as many others as our canoe could hold. We entered it without fear, since you know how light and well-balanced it is; and, rowing into the bay, we spread the sail to the wind, and had no more trouble. I took the helm; my own signal light shone clearly on the shore; and, except for the pouring rain, the waves crashing over our canoe, and our worry about the ship and you, as well as our fear that the wind might carry us out to sea, we would have had a delightful little maritime adventure. Once we got out of the bay, I noticed the wind was pushing us towards Shark’s Island, which, being directly in front of the bay, creates two entrances to it. I planned to go around it and disembark there, if possible, to look for any signs of the ship, but we found that impossible; the sea was too rough; also, we wouldn’t have been able to secure our canoe because the island had no trees or anything to tie it to, and the waves would have carried it away soon. We had now lost sight of the light, and hearing no more signals, I began to think about your distress when we didn’t arrive at the time we promised. So I decided to return by the other side of the bay, carefully avoiding the current that would have taken us out to sea. I lowered the sail using the ropes you had attached to it, and we rowed back to shore. We securely moored the canoe, and without going back to Tent House, we headed home. We crossed the bridge just like Jack did, found the waterproof cloak and bag of karata leaves where he’d left them, and shortly after met Ernest. Since it was daylight, I didn’t mistake him for the captain but recognized him immediately and felt deep remorse when he told me how anxious and distressed you had been all night. Our venture was reckless and completely pointless; but we might have saved some lives, which would have been more than enough compensation. I fear all is hopeless. What do you think, father, about their fate?"

“I hope they are far from this dangerous coast,” said I; “but if still in our neighbourhood, we will do all we can to assist them. As soon as the tempest is subsided, we will take the pinnace and sail round the island. You have long urged me to this, Fritz; and who knows but on the opposite side we may find some traces of our own poor sailors,—perhaps even meet with them?”

“I hope they’re far from this dangerous shore,” I said. “But if they’re still nearby, we’ll do everything we can to help them. As soon as the storm calms down, we’ll take the small boat and sail around the island. You’ve been pushing me to do this for a while, Fritz; and who knows, maybe we’ll find some signs of our missing sailors on the other side—perhaps even run into them?”

The weather gradually clearing, I called my sons to go out with me. My wife earnestly besought me not to venture on the sea; I assured her it was not sufficiently calm, but we must examine our plantations, to ascertain what damage was done, and at the same time we might look out for some traces of the wreck; besides, our animals were becoming clamorous for food; therefore, leaving Ernest with her, we descended to administer in the first place to their wants.

As the weather started to clear, I called my sons to come out with me. My wife urged me not to go out to sea; I assured her it wasn’t calm enough, but we needed to check our crops to see what damage had been done, and at the same time we might look for signs of the wreck. Plus, our animals were getting loud and needed to be fed, so we left Ernest with her and went down to take care of their needs.


CHAPTER XXXVII.

Our animals were impatiently expecting us; they had been neglected during the storm, and were ill-supplied with food, besides being half-sunk in water. The ducks and the flamingo liked it well enough, and were swimming comfortably in the muddy water; but the quadrupeds were complaining aloud, each in his own proper language, and making a frightful confusion of sounds. Valiant, especially,—the name Francis had bestowed on the calf I had given him to bring up,—bleated incessantly for his young master, and could not be quieted till he came. It is wonderful how this child, only twelve years old, had tamed and attached this animal; though sometimes so fierce, with him he was mild as a lamb. The boy rode on his back, guiding him with a little stick, with which he just touched the side of his neck as he wished him to move; but if his brothers had ventured to mount, they would have been certainly thrown off. A pretty sight was our cavalry: Fritz on his handsome onagra, Jack on his huge buffalo, and Francis on his young bull. There was nothing left for Ernest but the donkey, and its slow and peaceful habits suited him very well.

Our animals were waiting for us impatiently; they had been neglected during the storm, and were low on food, besides being half-submerged in water. The ducks and the flamingo were enjoying themselves, swimming happily in the muddy water; but the four-legged animals were complaining loudly, each in their own way, creating a terrible noise. Valiant, especially—the name Francis had given to the calf I had let him raise—bleated non-stop for his young master, and wouldn’t calm down until he arrived. It’s amazing how this twelve-year-old boy had tamed and bonded with this animal; even though it could be fierce at times, it was as gentle as a lamb with him. The boy rode on its back, guiding it with a little stick that he just touched to the side of its neck to get it to move; but if his brothers had tried to ride, they would have definitely been thrown off. Our cavalry looked great: Fritz on his beautiful onager, Jack on his huge buffalo, and Francis on his young bull. The only option left for Ernest was the donkey, which matched his slow and peaceful lifestyle perfectly.

Francis ran up to his favourite, who showed his delight at seeing him as well as he was able, and at the first summons followed his master from the stable. Fritz brought out Lightfoot Jack his buffalo, and I followed with the cow and the ass. We left them to sport about at liberty on the humid earth, till we removed the water from their stable, and supplied them with fresh food. We then drove them in, considering it advisable to pursue our expedition on foot, lest the bridge should still be overflowed. Francis was the superintendent of the fowls, and knew every little chicken by name; he called them out and scattered their food for them, and soon had his beautiful and noisy family fluttering round him.

Francis ran up to his favorite, who showed his happiness at seeing him as best he could, and at the first call followed his master from the stable. Fritz brought out Lightfoot, Jack’s buffalo, and I followed with the cow and the donkey. We let them play freely on the damp ground until we cleaned out their stable and gave them fresh food. Then we drove them back in, deciding it was better to continue our journey on foot, in case the bridge was still flooded. Francis was in charge of the chickens and knew each little chick by name; he called them out and scattered their food for them, and soon had his beautiful and noisy family fluttering around him.

After having made all our animals comfortable, and given them their breakfast, we began to think of our own. Francis made a fire and warmed some chicken broth for his mother; for ourselves, we were contented with some new milk, some salt herrings, and cold potatoes. I had often searched in my excursions for the precious bread-fruit tree, so highly spoken of by modern travellers, which I had hoped might be found in our island, from its favourable situation; but I had hitherto been unsuccessful. We were unable to procure the blessing of bread, our ship biscuit had long been exhausted, and though we had sown our European corn, we had not yet reaped any.

After making sure all our animals were comfortable and fed them their breakfast, we started thinking about our own meal. Francis made a fire and warmed up some chicken broth for his mom; as for us, we were okay with some fresh milk, salted herring, and cold potatoes. I had often searched during my outings for the valuable bread-fruit tree, which modern travelers rave about, hoping it might be found on our island due to its good location; but so far, I had no luck. We couldn't get the blessing of bread, our ship's biscuits had been used up a long time ago, and even though we had planted our European grains, we hadn't harvested any yet.

After we had together knelt down to thank God for his merciful protection through the terrors of the past night, and besought him to continue it, we prepared to set out. The waves still ran high, though the wind had subsided, and we determined merely to go along the shore, as the roads still continued impassable from the rain, and the sand was easier to walk on than the wet grass; besides, our principal motive for the excursion was to search for any traces of a recent shipwreck. At first we could discover nothing, even with the telescope; but Fritz, mounting a high rock, fancied he discovered something floating towards the island. He besought me to allow him to take the canoe, which was still where he left it the preceding night. As the bridge was now easy to cross, I consented, only insisting on accompanying him to assist in managing it. Jack, who was much afraid of being left behind, was the first to leap in and seize an oar. There was, however, no need of it; I steered my little boat into the current, and we were carried away with such velocity as almost to take our breath. Fritz was at the helm, and appeared to have no fear; I will not say that his father was so tranquil. I held Jack, for fear of accidents, but he only laughed, and observed to his brother that the canoe galloped better than Lightfoot. We were soon in the open sea, and directed our canoe towards the object we had remarked, and which we still had in sight. We were afraid it was the boat upset, but it proved to be a tolerably large cask, which had probably been thrown overboard to lighten the distressed vessel; we saw several others, but neither mast nor plank to give us any idea that the vessel and boat had perished. Fritz wished much to have made the circuit of the island, to assure ourselves of this, but I would not hear of it; I thought of my wife’s terror; besides, the sea was still too rough for our frail bark, and we had, moreover, no provisions. If my canoe had not been well built, it would have run great risk of being overset by the waves, which broke over it. Jack, when he saw one coming, lay down on his face, saying he preferred having them on his back rather than in his mouth; he jumped up as soon as it passed, to help to empty the canoe, till another wave came to fill it again; but, thanks to my out-riggers, we preserved our balance very well, and I consented to go as far as Cape Disappointment, which merited the name a second time, for we found no trace here of the vessel, though we mounted the hill, and thus commanded a wide extent of view. As we looked round the country, it appeared completely devastated: trees torn up by the roots, plantations levelled with the ground, water collected into absolute lakes,—all announced desolation; and the tempest seemed to be renewing. The sky was darkened, the wind arose, and was unfavourable for our return; nor could I venture the canoe on the waves, every instant becoming more formidable. We moored our bark to a large palm-tree we found at the foot of the hill, near the shore, and set out by land to our home. We crossed the Gourd Wood and the Wood of Monkeys, and arrived at our farm, which we found, to our great satisfaction, had not suffered much from the storm. The food we had left in the stables was nearly consumed; from which we concluded that the animals we had left here had sheltered themselves during the storm. We refilled the mangers with the hay we had preserved in the loft, and observing the sky getting more and more threatening, we set out without delay for our house, from which we were yet a considerable distance. To avoid Flamingo Marsh, which was towards the sea, and Rice Marsh, towards the rock, we determined to go through Cotton Wood, which would save us from the wind, which was ready to blow us off our feet. I was still uneasy about the ship, which the lieutenant had told me was out of repair; but I indulged a hope that they might have taken refuge in some bay, or found anchorage on some hospitable shore, where they might get their vessel into order.

After we knelt down together to thank God for his merciful protection through the terrors of the past night, and asked him to keep it going, we got ready to leave. The waves were still high, though the wind had died down, and we decided to stick to the shore since the roads were still too muddy from the rain, and the sand was easier to walk on than the wet grass. Plus, our main reason for the trip was to look for any signs of a recent shipwreck. At first, we couldn’t find anything, even with the telescope; but Fritz, climbing a high rock, thought he saw something floating toward the island. He asked me if he could take the canoe, which was still where he left it the night before. Since the bridge was now easy to cross, I agreed, insisting on going with him to help steer. Jack, who was really worried about being left behind, was the first to jump in and grab an oar. But it wasn’t needed; I guided the little boat into the current, and we were swept away so fast it almost took our breath away. Fritz was at the helm and seemed fearless; I can’t say the same about his father. I held onto Jack, worried about accidents, but he just laughed and told his brother that the canoe sped along better than Lightfoot. Soon we were in open sea, heading toward the object we had noticed and still saw. We were afraid it was the capsized boat, but it turned out to be a fairly large barrel, probably thrown overboard to lighten the distressed ship. We saw several others, but no mast or plank that would give us any clue that the vessel and boat had sunk. Fritz really wanted to circle the island to confirm this, but I wouldn't hear of it; I thought about my wife's fear. Besides, the ocean was still too rough for our fragile boat, and we had no supplies. If my canoe hadn’t been well-made, it would have had a serious risk of capsizing from the waves crashing over it. Jack, when he saw one coming, lay down on his stomach, saying he preferred to have the waves on his back rather than in his mouth; he jumped up as soon as it passed to help empty the canoe until another wave filled it again. Thankfully, because of my outriggers, we kept our balance pretty well, and I agreed to go as far as Cape Disappointment, which lived up to its name again since we found no signs of the vessel, even though we climbed the hill to get a better view. As we looked around, the landscape seemed totally devastated: trees uprooted, fields flattened, water collected into lakes—all signs of desolation; and the storm looked like it was picking up again. The sky darkened, the wind picked up, making our return tricky; I couldn’t risk the canoe on the increasingly formidable waves. We secured our boat to a large palm tree at the foot of the hill near the shore and set off on foot to our home. We crossed the Gourd Wood and the Wood of Monkeys and arrived at our farm, which we were pleased to find hadn’t suffered much from the storm. The food we left in the stables was nearly gone, which meant the animals we had left here took shelter during the storm. We refilled the troughs with the hay we had saved in the loft, and seeing the sky growing darker and more menacing, we left without delay for our house, from which we were still quite far. To avoid Flamingo Marsh toward the sea and Rice Marsh toward the rock, we decided to go through Cotton Wood, which would protect us from the wind that was ready to knock us off our feet. I was still worried about the ship that the lieutenant told me was in disrepair; but I held onto hope that they might have found refuge in some bay, or anchored at some welcoming shore where they could fix their vessel.

Jack was alarmed lest they should fall into the hands of the anthropophagi, who eat men like hares or sheep, of whom he had read in some book of travels, and excited the ridicule of his brother, who was astonished at his ready belief of travellers’ tales, which he asserted were usually false.

Jack was worried that they might end up in the hands of the anthropophagi, who eat people like they would hunt hares or sheep, something he had read in a travel book. This earned him the mockery of his brother, who was surprised by his easy acceptance of stories told by travelers, which he claimed were usually untrue.

“But Robinson Crusoe would not tell a falsehood,” said Jack, indignantly; “and there were cannibals came to his island, and were going to eat Friday, if he had not saved him.”

“But Robinson Crusoe wouldn’t tell a lie,” said Jack, indignantly; “and there were cannibals who came to his island and were going to eat Friday if he hadn’t saved him.”

“Oh! Robinson could not tell a falsehood,” said Fritz, “because he never existed. The whole history is a romance—is not that the name, father, that is given to works of the imagination?”

“Oh! Robinson couldn’t tell a lie,” said Fritz, “because he never existed. The whole story is a romance—isn’t that what it’s called, Dad, when it’s from the imagination?”

“It is,” said I; “but we must not call Robinson Crusoe a romance; though Robinson himself, and all the circumstances of his history are probably fictitious, the details are all founded on truth—on the adventures and descriptions of voyagers who may be depended on, and unfortunate individuals who have actually been wrecked on unknown shores. If ever our journal should be printed, many may believe that it is only a romance—a mere work of the imagination.”

“It is,” I said; “but we shouldn’t call Robinson Crusoe a romance. Although Robinson himself and all the events in his story are probably made up, the details are based on truth—on the adventures and accounts of travelers who can be trusted, as well as unfortunate people who have genuinely been shipwrecked on unknown shores. If our journal ever gets published, many might think it’s just a romance—a product of imagination.”

My boys hoped we should not have to introduce any savages into our romance, and were astonished that an island so beautiful had not tempted any to inhabit it; in fact, I had often been myself surprised at this circumstance; but I told them many voyagers had noticed islands apparently fertile, and yet uninhabited; besides, the chain of rocks which surrounded this might prevent the approach of savages, unless they had discovered the little Bay of Safety where we had landed. Fritz said he anxiously desired to circumnavigate the island, in order to ascertain the size of it, and if there were similar chains of rocks on the opposite side. I promised him, as soon as the stormy weather was past, and his mother well enough to remove to Tent House, we would take our pinnace, and set out on our little voyage.

My boys were hoping that we wouldn’t need to bring any savages into our adventure and were surprised that such a beautiful island hadn’t attracted any inhabitants. I had often been surprised by this too, but I told them that many explorers had found islands that looked fertile but were still deserted. Plus, the ring of rocks surrounding this one might make it hard for any savages to reach it, unless they had found the little Bay of Safety where we landed. Fritz said he really wanted to go around the island to see how big it was and if there were similar rock formations on the other side. I promised him that as soon as the stormy weather cleared up and his mother was well enough to move to Tent House, we would take our small boat and set off on our little trip.

We now approached the marsh, and he begged me to let him go and cut some canes, as he projected making a sort of carriage for his mother. As we were collecting them, he explained his scheme to me. He wished to weave of these reeds, which were very strong, a large and long sort of pannier, in which his mother might sit or recline, and which might be suspended between two strong bamboo canes by handles of rope. He then purposed to yoke two of our most gentle animals, the cow and the ass, the one before and the other behind, between these shafts, the leader to be mounted by one of the children as director; the other would follow naturally, and the good mother would thus be carried, as if in a litter, without any danger of jolting. I was pleased with this idea, and we all set to work to load ourselves each with a huge burden of reeds. They requested me not to tell my wife, that they might give her an agreeable surprise. It needed such affection as ours to induce us to the undertaking in such unpropitious weather. It rained in torrents, and the marsh was so soft and wet, that we were in danger of sinking at every step. However, I could not be less courageous than my sons, whom nothing daunted, and we soon made up our bundles, and, placing them on our heads, they formed a sort of umbrella, which was not without its benefits. We soon arrived at Falcon’s Nest. Before we reached the tree, I saw a fire shine to such a distance, that I was alarmed; but soon found it was only meant for our benefit by our kind friends at home. When my wife saw the rain falling, she had instructed her little assistant to make a fire in our usual cooking-place, at a little distance from the tree, and protected by a canopy of waterproof cloth from the rain. The young cook had not only kept up a good fire to dry us on our return, but had taken the opportunity of roasting two dozen of those excellent little birds which his mother had preserved in butter, and which, all ranged on the old sword which served us for a spit, were just ready on our arrival, and the fire and feast were equally grateful to the hungry, exhausted, and wet travellers, who sat down to enjoy them.

We approached the marsh, and he asked me to let him go and cut some reeds because he wanted to make a kind of carriage for his mother. As we gathered them, he shared his plan with me. He wanted to weave a large and long basket from these strong reeds, where his mother could sit or lie down, and it would be hung between two sturdy bamboo poles with rope handles. He planned to harness our gentlest animals, the cow in front and the donkey behind, between these shafts, with one of the kids riding in front to guide them; the other would naturally follow, allowing their mom to be carried like in a litter, without any risk of jostling. I liked this idea, and we all got to work, loading ourselves up with big bundles of reeds. They asked me not to tell my wife so they could surprise her. It took a lot of love like ours to undertake such a task in such terrible weather. It was pouring rain, and the marsh was so soggy that we risked sinking with every step. Still, I couldn't be less brave than my sons, who were undeterred, and we quickly bundled up the reeds, balancing them on our heads, creating a sort of umbrella that had its advantages. We soon reached Falcon’s Nest. Before we got to the tree, I spotted a fire glowing from a distance, which worried me at first, but I soon realized it was meant for us by our thoughtful friends at home. When my wife saw the rain, she had told her little helper to start a fire in our usual cooking spot, a little way from the tree, and sheltered by a waterproof cloth from the rain. The young cook not only kept a strong fire going to dry us when we got back but also took the chance to roast two dozen of those delicious little birds that his mother had preserved in butter, which were all lined up on the old sword we used as a spit and were ready just as we arrived. The fire and feast were a welcome sight for the hungry, tired, and soaked travelers who sat down to enjoy them.

However, before we sat down to our repast, we went up to see our invalids, whom we found tolerably well, though anxious for our return. Ernest, with his sound hand, and the assistance of Francis, had succeeded in forming a sort of rampart before the opening into the room, composed of the four hammocks in which he and his brothers slept, placed side by side, on end. This sufficiently protected them from the rain, but excluded the light, so that they had been obliged to light a candle, and Ernest had been reading to his mother in a book of voyages that had formed part of the captain’s small library. It was a singular coincidence, that while we were talking of the savages on the way home, they were also reading of them; and I found my dear wife much agitated by the fears these accounts had awakened in her mind. After soothing her terrors, I returned to the fire to dry myself, and to enjoy my repast. Besides the birds, Francis had prepared fresh eggs and potatoes for us. He told me that his mamma had given up her office of cook to him, and assured me that he would perform the duties to our satisfaction, provided he was furnished with materials. Fritz was to hunt, Jack to fish, I was to order dinner, and he would make it ready. “And when we have neither game nor fish,” said Jack, “we will attack your poultry-yard.” This was not at all to the taste of poor little Francis, who could not bear his favourites to be killed, and who had actually wept over the chicken that was slaughtered to make broth for his mother. We were obliged to promise him that, when other resources failed, we would apply to our barrels of salt-fish. He, however, gave us leave to dispose as we liked of the ducks and geese, which were too noisy for him.

However, before we sat down for our meal, we went up to check on our sick family members, whom we found to be doing reasonably well, although they were anxious for our return. Ernest, with his good hand and with help from Francis, managed to create a sort of barrier in front of the opening to the room using the four hammocks that he and his brothers slept in, set up side by side, on their ends. This provided them with some protection from the rain, but kept out the light, so they had to light a candle, and Ernest had been reading to his mother from a travel book that was part of the captain’s small library. It was quite a coincidence that while we were discussing the natives on the way home, they were reading about them too; I noticed my dear wife became quite upset by the fears these stories stirred in her. After calming her fears, I went back to the fire to dry off and enjoy my meal. Besides the birds, Francis had prepared fresh eggs and potatoes for us. He told me that his mom had handed over her cooking duties to him and assured me that he would handle it well as long as he had the ingredients. Fritz was going to hunt, Jack was going to fish, I was in charge of dinner, and he would get it ready. “And when we have neither game nor fish,” Jack said, “we'll raid your poultry yard.” This idea did not sit well with little Francis, who couldn’t stand the thought of his favorites being killed and had even cried over the chicken that was slaughtered for broth for his mother. We had to promise him that when other food sources dried up, we would turn to our barrels of salt-fish. However, he did allow us to do as we pleased with the ducks and geese, which were too noisy for him.

After we had concluded our repast, we carried a part of it to our friends above, and proceeded to give them an account of our expedition. I then secured the hammocks somewhat more firmly, to save us from the storm that was still raging, and the hour of rest being at hand, my sons established themselves on mattresses of cotton, made by their kind mother, and in spite of the roaring of the winds, we were soon in profound repose.

After we finished our meal, we took some of it to our friends upstairs and shared the details of our adventure. I then made sure the hammocks were secured a bit better to protect us from the continuing storm, and as it was time to rest, my sons settled on the cotton mattresses made by their caring mother. Despite the howling winds, we quickly fell into a deep sleep.


CHAPTER XXXVIII.

The storm continued to rage the whole of the following day, and even the day after, with the same violence. Happily our tree stood firm, though several branches were broken; amongst others, that to which Francis’s wire was suspended. I replaced it with more care, carried it beyond our roof, and fixed at the extremity the pointed instrument which had attracted the lightning. I then substituted for the hammocks before the window, strong planks, which remained from my building, and which my sons assisted me to raise with pulleys, after having sawed them to the proper length. Through these I made loop-holes, to admit the light and air. In order to carry off the rain, I fixed a sort of spout, made of the wood of a tree I had met with, which was unknown to me, though apparently somewhat like the elder. The whole of the tree, almost to the bark, was filled up with a sort of pith, easily removed. From this tree I made the pipes for our fountain, and the remainder was now useful for these rain-spouts. I employed those days in which I could not go out, in separating the seeds and grain, of which I saw we should have need, and in mending our work-tools; my sons, in the mean time, nestled under the tree among the roots, were incessantly employed in the construction of the carriage for their mother. The karatas had nearly completed the cure of Ernest’s hand, and he was able to assist his brothers preparing the canes, which Fritz and Jack wove between the flat wooden wands, with which they had made the frame of their pannier; they succeeded in making it so strong and close, that they might have carried liquids in it. My dear wife’s foot and leg were gradually improving; and I took the opportunity of her confinement, to reason with her on her false notion of the dangers of the sea, and to represent to her the gloomy prospect of our sons, if they were left alone in the island. She agreed with me, but could not resolve to leave it; she hoped God would send some vessel to us, which might leave us some society; and after all, if our sons were left, she pointed out to me, that they had our beautiful pinnace, and might at any time, of their own accord, leave the island.

The storm kept raging for the entire next day and even the day after, with the same intensity. Thankfully, our tree held strong, although several branches broke, including the one that Francis's wire was attached to. I carefully replaced it, extending it beyond our roof, and fixed the pointed instrument that had attracted the lightning at the end. I then swapped out the hammocks by the window for strong planks left over from my building project, which my sons helped me lift with pulleys after we sawed them to the right length. I cut openings to let in light and air. To channel the rainwater, I built a sort of spout from the wood of an unfamiliar tree that resembled elder. The entire tree, almost down to the bark, was filled with a type of pith that was easy to remove. From this tree, I created pipes for our fountain, and the leftover wood was now useful for the rain spouts. During the days I couldn’t go outside, I focused on sorting seeds and grains that we would need, and repairing our tools; meanwhile, my sons were huddled under the tree among the roots, constantly working on building a carriage for their mother. The karatas had almost completely healed Ernest’s hand, allowing him to help his brothers prepare the canes that Fritz and Jack wove between the flat wooden strips they had used to make the frame of their basket; they managed to make it so strong and tightly woven that it could hold liquids. My dear wife’s foot and leg were gradually getting better, and I took advantage of her recovery time to talk to her about her mistaken fears of the sea and share the grim outlook for our sons if they were left alone on the island. She agreed with me but couldn’t bring herself to leave; she hoped that God would send a ship to provide us with some companionship and, after all, if our sons stayed, she pointed out that they had our beautiful pinnace and could choose to leave the island whenever they wanted.

“And why should we anticipate the evils of futurity, my dear friend?” said she. “Let us think only of the present. I am anxious now to know if the storm has spared my fine kitchen-garden.”

“And why should we worry about the problems of the future, my dear friend?” she said. “Let’s focus only on the present. I’m eager to know if the storm has left my beautiful kitchen garden unharmed.”

“You must wait a little,” said I. “I am as uneasy as you, for my maize-plantations, my sugar-canes, and my corn-fields.”

“You need to wait a bit,” I said. “I’m just as anxious as you are about my cornfields, my sugarcane, and my maize crops.”

At last, one night, the storm ceased, the clouds passed away, and the moon showed herself in all her glory. How delighted we were! My wife got me to remove the large planks I had placed before the opening, and the bright moonbeams streamed through the branches of the tree into our room; a gentle breeze refreshed us, and so delighted were we in gazing on that sky of promise, that we could scarcely bear to go to bed, but spent half the night in projects for the morrow; the good mother alone said, that she could not join in our excursions. Jack and Francis smiled at each other, as they thought of their litter, which was now nearly finished.

At last, one night, the storm stopped, the clouds cleared, and the moon appeared in all her beauty. We were so happy! My wife prompted me to take away the large planks I had put in front of the opening, and the bright moonlight streamed through the branches of the tree into our room; a gentle breeze refreshed us, and we were so captivated by that promising sky that we could hardly bear to go to bed, spending half the night dreaming up plans for the next day. Only the good mother said she couldn’t join in our adventures. Jack and Francis exchanged smiles as they thought about their project, which was now almost complete.

A bright sun awoke us early next morning. Fritz and Jack had requested me to allow them to finish their carriage; so, leaving Ernest with his mother, I took Francis with me to ascertain the damage done to the garden at Tent House, about which his mother was so anxious. We easily crossed the bridge, but the water had carried away some of the planks; however, my little boy leaped from one plank to another with great agility, though the distance was sometimes considerable. He was so proud of being my sole companion, that he scarcely touched the ground as he ran on before me; but he had a sad shock when he got to the garden; of which we could not find the slightest trace. All was destroyed; the walks, the fine vegetable-beds, the plantations of pines and melons—all had vanished. Francis stood like a marble statue, as pale and still; till, bursting into tears, he recovered himself.

A bright sun woke us up early the next morning. Fritz and Jack had asked me to let them finish their carriage, so I left Ernest with his mom and took Francis with me to check on the damage done to the garden at Tent House, which his mom was really worried about. We easily crossed the bridge, but the water had washed away some of the planks; however, my little boy jumped from one plank to another with great agility, even though the gaps were sometimes quite large. He was so proud to be my only companion that he hardly touched the ground as he ran ahead of me, but he was crushed when we reached the garden; we couldn't find the slightest trace of it. Everything was destroyed; the paths, the beautiful vegetable beds, the pine and melon plants—all were gone. Francis stood there like a marble statue, pale and still, until he burst into tears and started to regain his composure.

“Oh! my good mamma,” said he; “what will she say when she hears of this misfortune? But she need not know it, papa,” added he, after a pause; “it would distress her too much; and if you and my brothers will help me, we will repair the damage before she can walk. The plants may not be so large; but the earth is moist, and they will grow quickly, and I will work hard to get it into order.”

“Oh! my dear mom,” he said; “what will she think when she hears about this disaster? But she doesn’t need to know, Dad,” he continued after a moment; “it would upset her too much. If you and my brothers help me, we can fix the mess before she sees it. The plants might not be as big, but the soil is moist, and they’ll grow quickly. I’ll work hard to get everything back in shape.”

I embraced my dear boy, and promised him this should be our first work. I feared we should have many other disasters to repair; but a child of twelve years old gave me an example of resignation and courage. We agreed to come next day to begin our labour, for the garden was too well situated for me to abandon it. It was on a gentle declivity, at the foot of the rocks, which sheltered it from the north wind, and was conveniently watered from the cascade. I resolved to add a sort of bank, or terrace, to protect it from the violent rains; and Francis was so pleased with the idea, that he began to gather the large stones which were scattered over the garden, and to carry them to the place where I wished to build my terrace. He would have worked all day, if I would have allowed him; but I wanted to look after my young plantations, my sugar-canes, and my fields, and, after the destruction I had just witnessed, I had everything to fear. I proceeded to the avenue of fruit-trees that led to Tent House, and was agreeably surprised. All were half-bowed to the ground, as well as the bamboos that supported them, but few were torn up; and I saw that my sons and I, with the labour of two or three days, could restore them. Some of them had already begun to bear fruit, but all was destroyed for this year. This was, however, a trifling loss, compared with what I had anticipated; for, having no more plants of European fruits, I could not have replaced them. Besides, having resolved to inhabit Tent House at present, entirely,—being there defended from storms,—it was absolutely necessary to contrive some protection from the heat. My new plantations afforded little shade yet, and I trembled to propose to my wife to come and inhabit these burning rocks. Francis was gathering some of the beautiful unknown flowers of the island for his mother, and when he had formed his nosegay, bringing it to me,—

I hugged my dear boy and promised him that this would be our first project. I worried we would have many other problems to fix, but a twelve-year-old showed me what it means to be patient and brave. We agreed to come back the next day to start our work, since the garden was too well-placed for me to give up on it. It sat on a gentle slope at the foot of the rocks, which protected it from the north wind and was conveniently watered by the waterfall. I decided to build a sort of bank or terrace to shield it from heavy rains, and Francis was so excited about the idea that he started collecting the large stones scattered around the garden and carrying them to the spot where I wanted to build the terrace. He would have worked all day if I had let him, but I wanted to tend to my young plants, my sugar canes, and my fields; after the destruction I had just witnessed, I had a lot to worry about. I made my way to the path of fruit trees leading to Tent House and was pleasantly surprised. All of them were half-bowed to the ground, along with the bamboos holding them up, but few were uprooted; I saw that my sons and I could restore them with just two or three days of work. Some had already started to bear fruit, but everything was ruined for this year. Still, this was a small loss compared to what I had anticipated; since I no longer had any more plants of European fruits, I couldn't have replaced them. Plus, since I had decided to fully inhabit Tent House for now—being sheltered there from storms—it was crucial to figure out some way to deal with the heat. My new plants didn’t provide much shade yet, and I was hesitant to suggest to my wife that we live in these scorching rocks. Francis was gathering some of the beautiful unknown flowers of the island for his mother, and when he had made his bouquet, he brought it to me—

“See, papa,” said he, “how the rain has refreshed these flowers. I wish it would rain still, it is so dreadfully hot here. Oh! if we had but a little shade.”

“Look, Dad,” he said, “how the rain has brought these flowers back to life. I wish it would rain more; it’s so unbearably hot here. Oh! If only we had a bit of shade.”

“That is just what I was thinking of, my dear,” said I; “we shall have shade enough when my trees are grown; but, in the mean time—”

“That is exactly what I was thinking, my dear,” I said; “we’ll have plenty of shade when my trees are fully grown; but, in the meantime—”

“In the mean time, papa,” said Francis, “I will tell you what you must do. You must make a very long, broad colonnade before our house, covered with cloth, and open before, so that mamma may have air and shade at once.”

“In the meantime, Dad,” said Francis, “I’ll tell you what you should do. You need to build a really long, wide colonnade in front of our house, covered with fabric, and open in the front, so that Mom can enjoy both air and shade at the same time.”

I was pleased with my son’s idea, and promised him to construct a gallery soon, and call it the Franciade in honour of him. My little boy was delighted that his suggestion should be thus approved, and begged me not to tell his mamma, as he wished to surprise her, as much as his brothers did with their carriage; and he hoped the Franciade might be finished before she visited Tent House. I assured him I would be silent; and we took the road hence, talking about our new colonnade. I projected making it in the most simple and easy way. A row of strong bamboo canes planted at equal distances along the front of our house, and united by a plank of wood at the top cut into arches between the canes; others I would place sloping from the rock, to which I would fasten them by iron cramps; these were to be covered with sailcloth, prepared with the elastic gum, and well secured to the plank. This building would not take much time, and I anticipated the pleasure of my wife when she found out that it was an invention of her little favourite, who, of a mild and reflecting disposition, was beloved by us all. As we walked along, we saw something approaching, that Francis soon discovered to be his brothers, with their new carriage; and, concluding that his mamma occupied it, he hastened to meet them, lest they should proceed to the garden. But on our approach, we discovered that Ernest was in the litter, which was borne by the cow before, on which Fritz was mounted, and by the ass behind, with Jack on it. Ernest declared the conveyance was so easy and delightful that he should often take his mother’s place.

I was really happy with my son’s idea and promised him I'd build a gallery soon, naming it the Franciade in his honor. My little boy was thrilled that his suggestion was approved and asked me not to tell his mom because he wanted to surprise her, just like his brothers did with their carriage. He hoped the Franciade could be finished before she visited Tent House. I assured him I would keep it secret, and we headed off, chatting about our new colonnade. I planned to make it in the simplest way possible. A row of sturdy bamboo canes, evenly spaced along the front of our house, topped with a wooden plank shaped into arches between the canes; I would also add some sloping from the rock, secured with iron cramps. These would be covered with sailcloth treated with elastic gum, firmly secured to the plank. This construction wouldn't take long, and I looked forward to my wife's delight when she discovered it was the creation of her little favorite, who, with his gentle and thoughtful nature, was loved by all of us. As we walked, we noticed something coming our way, which Francis soon recognized as his brothers with their new carriage. Thinking their mom was on it, he rushed to meet them, hoping to stop them from heading to the garden. But as we got closer, we saw that Ernest was in the cart, pulled by the cow in front, Fritz riding on it, and Jack behind on the donkey. Ernest declared that the ride was so comfortable and fun that he would often take his mother’s place.

“I like that very much,” said Jack; “then I will take care that we will harness the onagra and the buffalo for you, and they will give you a pretty jolting, I promise you. The cow and ass are only for mamma. Look, papa, is it not complete? We wished to try it as soon as we finished it, so we got Ernest to occupy it, while mother was asleep.”

“I like that a lot,” said Jack; “so I’ll make sure we harness the onager and the buffalo for you, and I promise they'll give you quite a jolt. The cow and donkey are just for mom. Look, Dad, isn’t it perfect? We wanted to try it out as soon as we finished it, so we got Ernest to use it while Mom was asleep.”

Ernest declared it only wanted two cushions, one to sit upon, the other to recline against, to make it perfect; and though I could not help smiling at his love of ease, I encouraged the notion, in order to delay my wife’s excursion till our plans were completed. I then put Francis into the carriage beside his brother; and ordering Fritz and Jack to proceed with their equipage to inspect our corn-fields, I returned to my wife, who was still sleeping. On her awaking, I told her the garden and plantations would require a few days’ labour to set them in order, and I should leave Ernest, who was not yet in condition to be a labourer, to nurse her and read to her. My sons returned in the evening, and gave me a melancholy account of our corn-fields; the corn was completely destroyed, and we regretted this the more, as we had very little left for seed. We had anticipated a feast of real bread, but we were obliged to give up all hope for this year, and to content ourselves with our cakes of cassava, and with potatoes. The maize had suffered less, and might have been a resource for us, but the large, hard grain was so very difficult to reduce to flour fine enough for dough. Fritz often recurred to the necessity of building a mill near the cascade at Tent House; but this was not the work of a moment, and we had time to consider of it; for at present we had no corn to grind. As I found Francis had let his brothers into all our secrets, it was agreed that I, with Fritz, Jack, and Francis, should proceed to Tent House next morning. Francis desired to be of the party, that he might direct the laying out of the garden, he said, with an important air, as he had been his mother’s assistant on its formation. We arranged our bag of vegetable-seeds, and having bathed my wife’s foot with a simple embrocation, we offered our united prayers, and retired to our beds to prepare ourselves for the toils of the next day.

Ernest said it just needed two cushions, one to sit on and the other to lean against, to be perfect; and while I couldn't help but smile at his love for comfort, I encouraged the idea to delay my wife's trip until we finished our plans. I then placed Francis in the carriage next to his brother, and told Fritz and Jack to take their gear to check on our cornfields while I went back to my wife, who was still asleep. When she woke up, I told her that the garden and plants needed a few days of work to get them back in shape, and I would leave Ernest, who wasn't ready to work yet, to take care of her and read to her. My sons came back in the evening with a sad report about our cornfields; the corn had been totally ruined, and we regretted this even more since we had very little left for seed. We had hoped for a feast of real bread, but now we had to give up all hope for this year and settle for our cassava cakes and potatoes. The maize fared a bit better and could have helped us, but the large, hard kernels were really tough to grind into fine flour for dough. Fritz often brought up the need to build a mill near the waterfall at Tent House, but that wasn’t an overnight project, and we had time to think about it since we didn't have any corn to grind right now. Since I found out Francis had spilled all our secrets to his brothers, we agreed that I, along with Fritz, Jack, and Francis, would head to Tent House the next morning. Francis wanted to join us to help lay out the garden, claiming he had been his mom's assistant during its setup. We packed our bag of vegetable seeds, and after treating my wife's foot with a basic ointment, we said our joint prayers and went to bed to prepare for the work ahead the next day.


CHAPTER XXXIX.

We rose early; and, after our usual morning duties, we left our invalids for the whole day, taking with us, for our dinner, a goose and some potatoes, made ready the evening before. We harnessed the bull and the buffalo to the cart, and I sent Fritz and Jack to the wood of bamboos, with orders to load the cart with as many as it would contain; and, especially, to select some very thick ones for my colonnade; the rest I intended for props for my young trees; and this I proposed to be my first undertaking. Francis would have preferred beginning with the Franciade, or the garden, but he was finally won over by the thoughts of the delicious fruits, which we might lose by our neglect; the peaches, plums, pears, and, above all, the cherries, of which he was very fond. He then consented to assist me in holding the trees whilst I replaced the roots; after which he went to cut the reeds to tie them. Suddenly I heard him cry, “Papa, papa, here is a large chest come for us; come and take it.” I ran to him, and saw it was the very chest we had seen floating, and which we had taken for the boat at a distance; the waves had left it in our bay, entangled in the reeds, which grew abundantly here. It was almost buried in the sand. We could not remove it alone, and, notwithstanding our curiosity, we were compelled to wait for the arrival of my sons. We returned to our work, and it was pretty well advanced when the tired and hungry party returned with their cart-load of bamboos. We rested, and sat down to eat our goose. Guavas and sweet acorns, which had escaped the storm, and which my sons brought, completed our repast. Fritz had killed a large bird in the marsh, which I took at first for a young flamingo; but it was a young cassowary, the first I had seen in the island. This bird is remarkable for its extraordinary size, and for its plumage, so short and fine that it seems rather to be hair than feathers. I should have liked to have had it alive to ornament our poultry-yard, and it was so young we might have tamed it; but Fritz’s unerring aim had killed it at once. I wished to let my wife see this rare bird, which, if standing on its webbed feet, would have been four feet high; I therefore forbade them to meddle with it.

We got up early, and after our usual morning routines, we left our sick family members for the entire day, bringing along a goose and some potatoes that were prepared the night before for our dinner. We hitched the bull and the buffalo to the cart, and I sent Fritz and Jack to the bamboo grove with instructions to load the cart with as many as it could hold—especially picking out some thick ones for my colonnade. The rest I planned to use as supports for my young trees, and this was going to be my first project. Francis would have preferred starting with the Franciade or the garden, but he eventually agreed when he thought about the delicious fruits we might lose by neglect—peaches, plums, pears, and especially cherries, which he loved. He then agreed to help me hold the trees while I replaced their roots, after which he went to cut some reeds to tie them up. Suddenly, I heard him shout, “Papa, papa, there’s a large chest here for us; come and look.” I rushed over to him and saw it was the very chest we had seen floating earlier, which we had mistaken for a boat from a distance; the waves had left it in our bay, caught up in the reeds that grow plentifully here. It was almost buried in the sand. We couldn't move it by ourselves, and despite our curiosity, we had to wait for my sons to arrive. We went back to our work, and we had made good progress when the tired and hungry team returned with their cart full of bamboos. We took a break and sat down to eat our goose. Guavas and sweet acorns that had survived the storm, brought by my sons, rounded out our meal. Fritz had killed a large bird in the marsh, which I initially thought was a young flamingo, but it turned out to be a young cassowary, the first one I’d seen on the island. This bird is notable for its incredible size and its feathers, which are so short and fine that they look more like hair than feathers. I would have loved to have it alive to add to our poultry yard, especially since it was young enough that we could have domesticated it; however, Fritz's perfect aim had killed it instantly. I wanted my wife to see this rare bird, which, if it had stood on its webbed feet, would have been four feet tall, so I instructed them not to touch it.


“Fritz, with a strong hatchet forced the chest open, and we all eagerly crowded to see the contents.”


“Fritz, using a sturdy hatchet, pried the chest open, and we all gathered excitedly to check out what was inside.”

As we ate, we talked of the chest, and our curiosity being stronger than our hunger, we swallowed our repast hastily, and then ran down to the shore. We were obliged to plunge into the water up to the waist, and then had some difficulty to extricate it from the weed and slime, and to push it on shore. No sooner had we placed it in safety than Fritz, with a strong hatchet, forced it open, and we all eagerly crowded to see the contents. Fritz hoped it would be powder and fire-arms; Jack, who was somewhat fond of dress, and had notions of elegance, declared in favour of clothes, and particularly of linen, finer and whiter than that which his mother wove; if Ernest had been there, books would have been his desire; for my own part, there was nothing I was more anxious for than European seeds, particularly corn; Francis had a lingering wish that the chest might contain some of those gingerbread cakes which his grandmamma used to treat him with in Europe, and which he had often regretted; but he kept this wish to himself, for fear his brothers should call him “little glutton,” and assured us that he should like a little pocket-knife, with a small saw, better than anything in the world; and he was the only one who had his wish. The chest was opened, and we saw that it was filled with a number of trifling things likely to tempt savage nations, and to become the means of exchange,—principally glass and iron ware, coloured beads, pins, needles, looking-glasses, children’s toys, constructed as models, such as carts, and tools of every sort; amongst which we found some likely to be useful, such as hatchets, saws, planes, gimlets, &c.; besides a collection of knives, of which Francis had the choice; and scissors, which were reserved for mamma, her own being nearly worn out. I had, moreover, the pleasure of finding a quantity of nails of every size and kind, besides iron hooks, staples, &c., which I needed greatly. After we had examined the contents, and selected what we wanted immediately, we closed up the chest, and conveyed it to our magazine at Tent House. We had spent so much time in our examination, that we had some difficulty to finish propping our trees, and to arrive at home before it was dark. We found my wife somewhat uneasy at our lengthened absence, but our appearance soon calmed her. “Mother,” said I, “I have brought back all your chickens to crowd under your wing.”

As we ate, we talked about the chest, and our curiosity was stronger than our hunger, so we finished our meal quickly and ran down to the shore. We had to wade into the water up to our waists and then had some trouble getting it free from the seaweed and muck before we could push it onto the shore. As soon as we placed it safely, Fritz used a strong hatchet to force it open, and we all eagerly gathered around to see what was inside. Fritz hoped to find gunpowder and firearms; Jack, who was a bit into fashion and had a sense of style, wished for clothes, especially linen that was finer and whiter than what his mother made; if Ernest had been there, he would have wanted books; as for me, I was most eager for European seeds, especially corn. Francis secretly hoped the chest would hold some of those gingerbread cakes his grandma used to give him in Europe, which he missed a lot, but he kept this wish to himself for fear his brothers would call him a "little glutton." Instead, he insisted he'd prefer a small pocket knife with a little saw over anything else, and he was the only one who got what he wanted. When the chest was opened, we found it stuffed with various little items likely to attract primitive nations and serve as trade goods—mainly glass and iron items, colorful beads, pins, needles, mirrors, and children's toy models like carts, along with various tools. Among these were some useful things like hatchets, saws, planes, and gimlets, plus a collection of knives from which Francis could choose, and scissors, which were set aside for Mom since hers were almost worn out. I was also happy to find a supply of nails in all sizes and types, along with iron hooks and staples, which I really needed. After we examined the contents and picked what we wanted right away, we closed the chest and took it to our supply room at Tent House. We had spent so much time looking through everything that we struggled to finish propping up our trees and get home before dark. We found my wife a bit anxious about our long absence, but seeing us eased her worries. “Mom,” I said, “I’ve brought back all your chickens to snuggle under your wing.”

“And we have not come back empty-handed,” said Jack. “Look, mamma; here are a beautiful pair of scissors, a large paper of needles, another of pins, and a thimble! How rich you are now! And when you get well, you can make me a pretty waistcoat and a pair of trousers, for I am in great want of them.”

“And we haven't come back empty-handed,” said Jack. “Look, Mom; here’s a beautiful pair of scissors, a big pack of needles, another pack of pins, and a thimble! How rich you are now! And when you’re better, you can make me a nice waistcoat and a pair of pants because I really need them.”

“And I, mamma,” said Francis, “have brought you a mirror, that you may arrange your cap; you have often been sorry papa did not remember to bring one from the ship. This was intended for the savages, and I will begin with you.”

“And I, Mom,” said Francis, “have brought you a mirror, so you can fix your cap; you’ve often wished that Dad had remembered to bring one from the ship. This was meant for the savages, and I’ll start with you.”

“I believe I rather resemble one now,” said my good Elizabeth, arranging the red and yellow silk handkerchief which she usually wore on her head.

“I think I look a bit like one now,” said my dear Elizabeth, adjusting the red and yellow silk handkerchief she usually wore on her head.

“Only, mamma,” said Jack, “when you wear the comical pointed bonnet which Ernest made you.”

“Only, Mom,” said Jack, “when you wear the silly pointed hat that Ernest made you.”

“What matters it,” said she, “whether it be pointed or round? It will protect me from the sun, and it is the work of my Ernest, to whom I am much obliged.”

"What does it matter," she said, "if it's pointed or round? It will protect me from the sun, and it’s made by my Ernest, for whom I am very grateful."

Ernest, with great ingenuity and patience, had endeavoured to plait his mother a bonnet of the rice-straw; he had succeeded; but not knowing how to form the round crown, he was obliged to finish it in a point, to the great and incessant diversion of his brothers.

Ernest, with a lot of creativity and patience, had tried to weave a bonnet for his mother out of rice straw; he managed to do it, but since he didn’t know how to shape the round crown, he had to finish it to a point, which amused his brothers endlessly.

“Mother,” said Ernest, in his usual grave and thoughtful tone, “I should not like you to look like a savage; therefore, as soon as I regain the use of my hand, my first work shall be to make you a bonnet, which I will take care shall be formed with a round crown, as you will lend me one of your large needles, and I will take, to sew the crown on, the head of either Jack or Francis.”

“Mom,” Ernest said in his serious and thoughtful way, “I don’t want you to look like a wild person; so, as soon as I can use my hand again, my first project will be to make you a hat. I’ll make sure it has a round top, and I’ll need you to lend me one of your big needles. I’ll use either Jack’s or Francis’s head to sew the crown on.”

“What do you mean? My head!” said they both together.

“What do you mean? My head!” they both said at the same time.

“Oh, I don’t mean to take it off your shoulders,” said he; “it will only be necessary that one of you should kneel down before me, for a day perhaps, while I use your head as a model; and you need not cry out much if I should chance to push my needle in.”

“Oh, I don't mean to take it off your shoulders,” he said; “it will only be necessary for one of you to kneel down in front of me, maybe for a day, while I use your head as a model; and you don't need to scream too much if I accidentally poke you with my needle.”

This time the philosopher had the laugh on his side, and his tormentors were silenced.

This time the philosopher had the upper hand, and his tormentors were quieted.

We now explained to my wife where we had found the presents we had brought her. My offerings to her were a light axe, which she could use to cut her fire-wood with, and an iron kettle, smaller and more convenient than the one she had. Fritz had retired, and now came in dragging with difficulty his huge cassowary. “Here, mamma,” said he, “I have brought you a little chicken for your dinner;” and the astonishment and laughter again commenced. The rest of the evening was spent in plucking the bird, to prepare part of it for next day. We then retired to rest, that we might begin our labour early next morning. Ernest chose to remain with his books and his mother, for whom he formed with the mattresses a sort of reclining chair, in which she was able to sit up in bed and sew. Thus she endured a confinement of six weeks, without complaint, and in that time got all our clothes put into good order. Francis had nearly betrayed our secret once, by asking his mamma to make him a mason’s apron. “A mason’s apron!” said she; “are you going to build a house, child?”

We explained to my wife where we found the gifts we brought her. I gave her a light axe for cutting firewood and a smaller, more convenient iron kettle. Fritz had gone out and came back struggling to drag his huge cassowary. “Here, Mom,” he said, “I brought you a little chicken for dinner,” which sparked more surprise and laughter. We spent the rest of the evening plucking the bird to prepare some of it for the next day. Then we went to bed so we could start our work early in the morning. Ernest decided to stay with his books and his mother, making a sort of reclining chair with the mattresses so she could sit up in bed and sew. She managed six weeks of confinement without complaint and used that time to get all our clothes in order. Francis almost revealed our secret once by asking his mom to make him a mason’s apron. “A mason’s apron!” she said. “Are you going to build a house, child?”

“I meant to say a gardener’s apron,” said he.

“I meant to say a gardener's apron,” he said.

His mamma was satisfied, and promised to comply with his request.

His mom was happy and promised to fulfill his request.

In the mean time, my three sons and I laboured assiduously to get the garden into order again, and to raise the terraces, which we hoped might be a defence against future storms. Fritz had also proposed to me to construct a stone conduit, to bring the water to our kitchen-garden from the river, to which we might carry it back, after it had passed round our vegetable-beds. This was a formidable task, but too useful an affair to be neglected; and, aided by the geometrical skill of Fritz, and the ready hands of my two younger boys, the conduit was completed. I took an opportunity, at the same time, to dig a pond above the garden, into which the conduit poured the water; this was always warm with the sun, and, by means of a sluice, we were able to disperse it in little channels to water the garden. The pond would also be useful to preserve small fish and crabs for use. We next proceeded to our embankment. This was intended to protect the garden from any extraordinary overflow of the river, and from the water running from the rocks after heavy rains. We then laid out our garden on the same plan as before, except that I made the walks wider, and not so flat; I carried one directly to our house, which, in the autumn, I intended to plant with shrubs, that my wife might have a shady avenue to approach her garden; where I also planned an arbour, furnished with seats, as a resting-place for her. The rocks were covered with numerous climbing plants, bearing every variety of elegant flower, and I had only to make my selection.

In the meantime, my three sons and I worked hard to tidy up the garden and raise the terraces, which we hoped would protect us from future storms. Fritz also suggested that we build a stone channel to bring water from the river to our kitchen garden, which we could return after it flowed around our vegetable beds. It was a big project, but it was too important to ignore; with Fritz's geometric skills and the help of my two younger boys, the channel was finished. At the same time, I decided to dig a pond above the garden where the channel would flow into; this water would always be warmed by the sun, and with a sluice, we could spread it through small channels to water the garden. The pond would also be useful for keeping small fish and crabs for later use. Next, we focused on building an embankment. This was meant to protect the garden from any major river overflow and from runoff after heavy rains. We then redesigned our garden the same way as before, but I made the pathways wider and less flat; I created one path that led directly to our house, which I planned to plant with shrubs in the autumn so my wife could have a shady way to access her garden. I also envisioned a trellis with seating as a resting spot for her. The rocks were covered with various climbing plants that had every kind of beautiful flower, and I just had to choose my favorites.

All this work, with the enclosing the garden with palisades of bamboo, occupied us about a fortnight, in which time our invalids made great progress towards their recovery. After the whole was finished, Francis entreated me to begin his gallery. My boys approved of my plan, and Fritz declared that the house was certainly comfortable and commodious, but that it would be wonderfully improved by a colonnade, with a little pavilion at each end, and a fountain in each pavilion.

All this work, including enclosing the garden with bamboo fences, kept us busy for about two weeks, during which our sick friends made significant strides in their recovery. Once everything was completed, Francis urged me to start on his gallery. My boys liked my idea, and Fritz said that while the house was definitely comfortable and spacious, it would be greatly enhanced by a colonnade, with a small pavilion at each end and a fountain in each pavilion.

“I never heard a word of these pavilions,” said I.

“I never heard a word about these pavilions,” I said.

“No,” said Jack, “they are our own invention. The colonnade will be called the Franciade; and we wish our little pavilions to be named, the one Fritzia, the other Jackia, if you please.”

“No,” said Jack, “they're our own creation. The colonnade will be called the Franciade; and we want our little pavilions to be named, one Fritzia, the other Jackia, if that's alright.”

I agreed to this reasonable request, and only begged to know how they would procure water for their fountains. Fritz undertook to bring the water, if I would only assist them in completing this little scheme, to give pleasure to their beloved mother. I was charmed to see the zeal and anxiety of my children to oblige their tender mother. Her illness seemed to have strengthened their attachment; they thought only how to console and amuse her. She sometimes told me she really blessed the accident, which had taught her how much she was valued by all around her.

I agreed to this reasonable request and only asked how they would get water for their fountains. Fritz offered to bring the water if I would help them finish this little project to please their beloved mother. I was delighted to see my children so eager and anxious to make their caring mother happy. Her illness seemed to deepen their bond; they focused solely on comforting and entertaining her. Sometimes she told me she truly appreciated the event that had shown her how much she was valued by everyone around her.


CHAPTER XL.

The next day was Sunday,—our happy Sabbath for repose and quiet conversation at home. After passing the day in our usual devotions and sober reading, my three elder boys requested my permission to walk towards our farm in the evening. On their return, they informed me it would be necessary to give a few days’ labour to our plantations of maize and potatoes. I therefore determined to look to them.

The next day was Sunday—our peaceful Sabbath for rest and quiet talks at home. After spending the day with our usual prayers and thoughtful reading, my three older boys asked if they could go for a walk to our farm in the evening. When they got back, they told me we needed to spend a few days working on our maize and potato plants. So, I decided to take care of that.

Though I was out early next morning, I found Fritz and Jack had been gone some time, leaving only the ass in the stables, which I secured for my little Francis. I perceived, also, that they had dismounted my cart, and carried away the wheels, from which I concluded that they had met with some tree in their walk the preceding evening, suitable for the pipes for their fountains, and that they had now returned to cut it down, and convey it to Tent House. As I did not know where to meet with them, I proceeded with Francis on the ass to commence his favourite work. I drew my plan on the ground first. At the distance of twelve feet from the rock which formed the front of our house, I marked a straight line of fifty feet, which I divided into ten spaces of five feet each for my colonnade; the two ends were to be reserved for the two pavilions my sons wished to build. I was busy in my calculations, and Francis placing stakes in the places where I wished to dig, when the cart drove up with our two good labourers. They had, as I expected, found the evening before a species of pine, well adapted for their pipes. They had cut down four, of fifteen or twenty feet in length, which they had brought on the wheels of the cart, drawn by the four animals. They had had some difficulty in transporting them to the place; and the greatest still remained—the boring the trunks, and then uniting them firmly. I had neither augers nor any tools fit for the purpose. I had, certainly, constructed a little fountain at Falcon’s Nest; but the stream was near at hand, and was easily conveyed by cane pipes to our tortoise-shell basin. Here the distance was considerable, the ground unequal, and, to have the water pure and cool, underground pipes were necessary. I thought of large bamboos, but Fritz pointed out the knots, and the difficulty of joining the pieces, and begged me to leave it to him, as he had seen fountains made in Switzerland, and had no fears of success. In the mean time, all hands set to work at the arcade. We selected twelve bamboos of equal height and thickness, and fixed them securely in the earth, at five feet from each other. These formed a pretty colonnade, and were work enough for one day.

Though I was out early the next morning, I found that Fritz and Jack had been gone for a while, leaving only the donkey in the stables, which I secured for my little Francis. I also noticed that they had taken apart my cart and carried away the wheels, which led me to believe they had come across a suitable tree for the pipes for their fountains during their walk the previous evening and had now gone back to cut it down and bring it to Tent House. Since I didn’t know where to find them, I set off with Francis on the donkey to start his favorite project. I drew my plan on the ground first. Twelve feet from the rock that formed the front of our house, I marked a straight line of fifty feet, dividing it into ten sections of five feet each for my colonnade; the two ends were reserved for the two pavilions my sons wanted to build. I was focused on my calculations, with Francis placing stakes where I wanted to dig when the cart arrived with our two hardworking laborers. As I expected, they had found a type of pine well-suited for their pipes the evening before. They had cut down four trees, each fifteen to twenty feet long, which they had brought on the cart’s wheels, pulled by the four animals. They faced some challenges transporting them to the site, and the biggest challenge still lay ahead—boring the trunks and then securely joining them together. I didn’t have any augers or tools for that task. I had built a small fountain at Falcon’s Nest, but that was easy since the stream was nearby and I could easily channel it using cane pipes to our tortoise-shell basin. Here, the distance was significant, the ground uneven, and to have the water pure and cool, we'd need underground pipes. I thought about using large bamboos, but Fritz pointed out the knots and the difficulty in connecting the pieces and asked me to leave it to him since he had seen fountains made in Switzerland and was confident he could succeed. Meanwhile, everyone got to work on the arcade. We selected twelve bamboos of equal height and thickness and secured them firmly in the ground, five feet apart. These formed a lovely colonnade, which was enough work for one day.

We took care to divert all inquiries at night, by discussing the subjects which our invalids had been reading during the day. The little library of our captain was very choice; besides the voyages and travels, which interested them greatly, there was a good collection of historians, and some of the best poets, for which Ernest had no little taste. However, he requested earnestly that he might be of our party next day, and Francis, good-naturedly, offered to stay with mamma, expecting, no doubt, Ernest’s congratulations on the forward state of the Franciade. The next morning Ernest and I set out, his brothers having preceded us. Poor Ernest regretted, as we went, that he had no share in these happy schemes for his mother. I reminded him, however, of his dutiful care of her during her sickness, and all his endeavours to amuse her. “And, besides,” added I, “did you not make her a straw bonnet?”

We made sure to steer clear of any questions at night by talking about the things our patients had been reading during the day. Our captain's small library was pretty impressive; beyond the voyages and travels that fascinated them, there was a solid collection of historians and some of the best poets, which Ernest was quite fond of. However, he earnestly asked to be part of our group the next day, and Francis, being good-natured, offered to stay with mom, probably hoping for Ernest’s praise on the progress of the Franciade. The next morning, Ernest and I set off, with his brothers going ahead of us. Poor Ernest wished, as we walked, that he could be involved in these enjoyable plans for his mom. I reminded him, though, of how he took such good care of her during her illness and all his efforts to keep her entertained. “And besides,” I added, “didn’t you make her a straw hat?”

“Yes,” said he, “and I now remember what a frightful shape it was. I will try to make a better, and will go to-morrow morning to choose my straw.”

“Yes,” he said, “and I now recall how terrible it looked. I’ll try to make a better one, and I’ll go tomorrow morning to pick out my straw.”

As we approached Tent House, we heard a most singular noise, echoing at intervals amongst the rocks. We soon discovered the cause; in a hollow of the rocks I saw a very hot fire, which Jack was blowing through a cane, whilst Fritz was turning amidst the embers a bar of iron. When it was red-hot, they laid it on an anvil I had brought from the ship, and struck it alternately with hammers to bring it to a point.

As we got closer to Tent House, we heard a unique sound echoing through the rocks. We quickly found out what it was; in a hollow of the rocks, I saw a very hot fire, with Jack blowing on it through a tube, while Fritz was moving a bar of iron among the embers. When it was glowing red, they placed it on an anvil I had brought from the ship and took turns hammering it to shape it to a point.

“Well done, my young smiths,” said I; “we ought to try all things, and keep what is good. Do you expect to succeed in making your auger? I suppose that is what you want.”

"Great job, my young blacksmiths,” I said; “we should try everything and keep what works. Do you think you can make your auger? I assume that’s what you want."

“Yes, father,” said Fritz; “we should succeed well enough if we only had a good pair of bellows; you see we have already got a tolerable point.”

“Yes, dad,” said Fritz; “we'd do just fine if we only had a good pair of bellows; you can see we've already made a decent start.”

Now Fritz could not believe anything was impossible. He had killed a kangaroo the evening before, and skinned it. The flesh made us a dinner; of the skin he determined to make a pair of bellows. He nailed it, with the hair out, not having time to tan it, to two flat pieces of wood, with holes in them; to this he added a reed for the pipe; he then fixed it by means of a long cord and a post, to the side of his fire, and Jack, with his hand or his foot, blew the fire, so that the iron was speedily red-hot, and quite malleable. I then showed them how to twist the iron into a screw,—rather clumsy, but which would answer the purpose tolerably well. At one end they formed a ring, in which we placed a piece of wood transversely, to enable them to turn the screw. We then made a trial of it. We placed a tree on two props, and Fritz and I managed the auger so well, that we had our tree pierced through in a very little time, working first at one end and then at the other. Jack, in the mean time, collected the shavings we made, which he deposited in the kitchen for his mother’s use, to kindle the fire. Ernest, meanwhile, was walking about, making observations, and giving his advice to his brothers on the architecture of their pavilions, till, seeing they were going to bore another tree, he retired into the garden to see the embankment. He returned delighted with the improvements, and much disposed to take some employment. He wanted to assist in boring the tree, but we could not all work at it. I undertook this labour myself, and sent him to blow the bellows, while his brothers laboured at the forge, the work not being too hard for his lame hand. My young smiths were engaged in flattening the iron to make joints to unite their pipes; they succeeded very well, and then began to dig the ground to lay them. Ernest, knowing something of geometry and land-surveying, was able to give them some useful hints, which enabled them to complete their work successfully. Leaving them to do this, I employed myself in covering in my long colonnade. After I had placed on my columns a plank cut in arches, which united them, and was firmly nailed to them, I extended from it bamboos, placed sloping against the rock, and secured to it by cramps of iron, the work of my young smiths. When my bamboo roof was solidly fixed, the canes as close as possible, I filled the interstices with a clay I found near the river, and poured gum over it; I had thus an impervious and brilliant roof, which appeared to be varnished, and striped green and brown. I then raised the floor a foot, in order that there might be no damp, and paved it with the square stones I had preserved when we cut the rock. It must be understood that all this was the work of many days. I was assisted by Jack and Fritz, and by Ernest and Francis alternately, one always remaining with his mother, who was still unable to walk. Ernest employed his time, when at home, in making the straw bonnet, without either borrowing his brother’s head for a model, or letting any of them know what he was doing. Nevertheless, he assisted his brothers with their pavilions by his really valuable knowledge. They formed them very elegantly,—something like a Chinese pagoda. They were exactly square, supported on four columns, and rather higher than the gallery. The roofs terminated in a point, and resembled a large parasol. The fountains were in the middle; the basins, breast-high, were formed of the shells of two turtles from our reservoir, which were mercilessly sacrificed for the purpose, and furnished our table abundantly for some days. They succeeded the cassowary, which had supplied us very seasonably: its flesh tasted like beef, and made excellent soup.

Now Fritz could hardly believe that anything was impossible. He had killed a kangaroo the night before and skinned it. The meat made us dinner; from the skin, he decided to make a pair of bellows. He nailed it, with the fur side out, not having the time to tan it, to two flat pieces of wood with holes in them; to this, he added a reed for the pipe. He then fixed it with a long cord and a post to the side of his fire, and Jack, using his hand or foot, blew on the fire so that the iron quickly became red-hot and quite malleable. I then showed them how to twist the iron into a screw—it's a bit clumsy, but it would work well enough for our needs. They formed a ring at one end, where we placed a piece of wood across it to help them turn the screw. We then gave it a try. We put a tree on two supports, and Fritz and I managed the auger so well that we quickly pierced the tree, working first at one end then the other. Meanwhile, Jack collected the shavings we made and stored them in the kitchen for his mom to use to light the fire. Ernest was wandering around, observing and advising his brothers on the design of their pavilions, until he saw they were going to drill another tree, at which point he went to the garden to check on the embankment. He came back thrilled with the improvements and eager to help. He wanted to assist in drilling the tree, but we couldn’t all work on it at once. I took on that task myself and sent him to blow the bellows while his brothers worked at the forge, as the job wasn’t too difficult for his injured hand. My young smiths were focused on flattening the iron to create joints to connect their pipes; they did a great job and then started digging the ground to lay them. Ernest, knowing some geometry and land surveying, was able to give them useful tips that helped them finish the job successfully. While they worked, I focused on covering my long colonnade. After I placed a plank cut in arches on my columns, connecting them securely, I extended bamboos sloping against the rock, which were fastened to it with iron cramps made by my young smiths. Once my bamboo roof was securely in place, with the canes packed closely together, I filled the gaps with clay I found near the river and sealed it with gum; thus, I had a waterproof and shiny roof that looked varnished, striped green and brown. I then raised the floor by a foot to avoid dampness and paved it with square stones I had kept when we cut the rock. It should be clear that all this took many days to accomplish. Jack and Fritz helped me, along with Ernest and Francis, who alternated staying with their mom, still unable to walk. When at home, Ernest spent his time making a straw bonnet, without borrowing his brothers' heads for a model or letting them know what he was up to. Still, he helped his brothers with their pavilions using his genuinely valuable knowledge. They designed them very elegantly—somewhat like a Chinese pagoda. They were perfectly square, supported by four columns, and a bit taller than the gallery. The roofs had pointed tops and looked like a large parasol. The fountains were in the center; the basins, about chest-high, were made from the shells of two turtles from our reservoir, which we sacrificed without hesitation and that provided our table with plenty of food for several days. They followed the cassowary, which had supplied us very timely: its meat tasted like beef and made excellent soup.

But to return to the fountains. Ernest suggested the idea of ornamenting the end of the perpendicular pipe, which brought the water to the basin, with shells; every sort might be collected on the shore, of the most brilliant colours, and curious and varied shapes. He was passionately devoted to natural history, and had made a collection of these, endeavouring to classify them from the descriptions he met with in the books of voyages and travels. Some of these, of the most dazzling beauty, were placed round the pipe, which had been plastered with clay; from thence the water was received into a volute, shaped like an antique urn, and again was poured gracefully into the large turtle-shell; a small channel conveyed it then out of the pavilions. The whole was completed in less time than I could have imagined, and greatly surpassed my expectations; conferring an inestimable advantage on our dwelling, by securing us from the heat. All honour was rendered to Master Francis, the inventor, and The Franciade was written in large letters on the middle arch; Fritzia and Jackia were written in the same way over the pavilions. Ernest alone was not named; and he seemed somewhat affected by it. He had acquired a great taste for rambling and botanizing, and had communicated it also to Fritz, and now that our labours were ended at Tent House, they left us to nurse our invalid, and made long excursions together, which lasted sometimes whole days. As they generally returned with some game, or some new fruit, we pardoned their absence, and they were always welcome. Sometimes they brought a kangaroo, sometimes an agouti, the flesh of which resembles that of a rabbit, but is richer; sometimes they brought wild ducks, pigeons, and even partridges. These were contributed by Fritz, who never went out without his gun and his dogs. Ernest brought us natural curiosities, which amused us much,—stones, crystals, petrifactions, insects, butterflies of rare beauty, and flowers, whose colours and fragrance no one in Europe can form an idea of. Sometimes he brought fruit, which we always administered first to our monkey, as taster: some of them proved very delicious. Two of his discoveries, especially, were most valuable acquisitions,—the guajaraba, on the large leaf of which one may write with a pointed instrument, and the fruit of which, a sort of grape, is very good to eat; also the date-palm, every part of which is so useful, that we were truly thankful to Heaven, and our dear boys, for the discovery. Whilst young, the trunk contains a sort of marrow, very delicious. The date-palm is crowned by a head, formed of from forty to eighty leafy branches, which spread round the top. The dates are particularly good about half-dried; and my wife immediately began to preserve them. My sons could only bring the fruit now, but we purposed to transplant some of the trees themselves near our abode. We did not discourage our sons in these profitable expeditions; but they had another aim, which I was yet ignorant of. In the mean time, I usually walked with one of my younger sons towards Tent House, to attend to our garden, and to see if our works continued in good condition to receive mamma, who daily improved; but I insisted on her being completely restored, before she was introduced to them. Our dwelling looked beautiful amongst the picturesque rocks, surrounded by trees of every sort, and facing the smooth and lovely Bay of Safety. The garden was not so forward as I could have wished; but we were obliged to be patient, and hope for the best.

But back to the fountains. Ernest suggested decorating the end of the vertical pipe that brought water to the basin with shells; we could collect all kinds from the shore, in vibrant colors and unique shapes. He was really into natural history and had built a collection, trying to classify them based on descriptions he found in travel books. Some of the most stunning ones were placed around the pipe, which was covered in clay; from there, the water flowed into a volute shaped like an antique urn, and then gracefully poured into the large turtle-shell; a small channel carried it out of the pavilions. Everything was finished faster than I expected and exceeded my hopes, providing us with great comfort by shielding us from the heat. Master Francis, the creator, received all the praise, and The Franciade was written in big letters on the middle arch; Fritzia and Jackia were similarly displayed over the pavilions. Only Ernest wasn’t mentioned, and he seemed a bit affected by it. He had developed a strong passion for wandering and studying plants, which he also shared with Fritz, and now that we finished our work at Tent House, they left us to care for our sick one and went on long outings together that sometimes lasted all day. Since they usually returned with game or new fruit, we didn’t mind their absences, and they were always welcome. Sometimes they brought a kangaroo, sometimes an agouti, which tastes similar to rabbit but richer; other times it was wild ducks, pigeons, and even partridges. Fritz contributed to this, as he never left without his gun and dogs. Ernest brought us interesting natural finds that entertained us—stones, crystals, fossils, insects, beautiful butterflies, and flowers whose colors and scents no one in Europe could imagine. Sometimes he brought fruit, which we first gave to our monkey as a taster; some turned out to be quite delicious. Two of his finds were particularly valuable—the guajaraba, with large leaves on which you can write using a pointed tool, and its grape-like fruit, which is very tasty; and the date-palm, which is so useful in every part that we were truly grateful to Heaven and our dear boys for the discovery. While the palm is young, the trunk has a kind of marrow that's very tasty. The date-palm is topped with a crown of forty to eighty leafy branches that spread out at the top. The dates are especially good when they’re half-dried, and my wife immediately started preserving them. My sons could only bring back the fruit now, but we planned to transplant some of the trees near our home. We encouraged our sons in these useful expeditions, but they had another purpose that I was still unaware of. In the meantime, I often walked with one of my younger sons toward Tent House to tend to our garden and check if our work was still in good shape to welcome mama, who was getting better day by day; but I insisted she be completely healed before meeting them. Our home looked beautiful among the picturesque rocks, surrounded by all sorts of trees, and overlooking the smooth and lovely Bay of Safety. The garden wasn’t progressing as quickly as I’d hoped, but we had to be patient and remain hopeful.


CHAPTER XLI.

One day, having gone over with my younger sons to weed the garden, and survey our possessions, I perceived that the roof of the gallery wanted a little repair, and called Jack to raise for me the rope ladder which I had brought from Falcon’s Nest, and which had been very useful while we were constructing the roof; but we sought for it everywhere; it could not be found; and as we were quite free from robbers in our island, I could only accuse my elder sons, who had doubtless carried it off to ascend some tall cocoa-nut tree. Obliged to be content, we walked into the garden by the foot of the rocks. Since our arrival, I had been somewhat uneasy at hearing a dull, continued noise, which appeared to proceed from this side. The forge we had passed, now extinguished, and our workmen were absent. Passing along, close to the rocks, the noise became more distinct, and I was truly alarmed. Could it be an earthquake? Or perhaps it announced some volcanic explosion. I stopped before that part of the rock where the noise was loudest; the surface was firm and level; but from time to time, blows and falling stones seemed to strike our ears. I was uncertain what to do; curiosity prompted me to stay, but a sort of terror urged me to remove my child and myself. However, Jack, always daring, was unwilling to go till he had discovered the cause of the phenomenon. “If Francis were here,” said he, “he would fancy it was the wicked gnomes, working underground, and he would be in a fine fright. For my part, I believe it is only people come to collect the salt in the rock.”

One day, I took my younger sons to weed the garden and check on our belongings. I noticed that the roof of the gallery needed some repairs and asked Jack to get the rope ladder I had brought from Falcon’s Nest, which had been really useful while we were building the roof. But we searched everywhere for it, and it was nowhere to be found. Since we were completely free from robbers on our island, I could only suspect my older sons, who must have taken it to climb some tall coconut tree. Having to make do, we walked into the garden by the base of the rocks. Ever since we arrived, I had been a bit uneasy hearing a dull, continuous noise that seemed to come from this direction. The forge we had passed was now out, and our workers were gone. As we walked close to the rocks, the noise grew clearer, and I felt genuinely alarmed. Could it be an earthquake? Or maybe it signaled some volcanic eruption? I paused in front of the spot where the noise was loudest; the surface was solid and flat, but occasionally, we heard blows and falling stones. I didn't know what to do; curiosity made me want to stay, but a kind of fear pushed me to take my child and leave. Still, Jack, ever bold, didn’t want to leave until he found out what was causing the noise. “If Francis were here,” he said, “he’d think it was the wicked gnomes working underground, and he’d be really scared. As for me, I think it’s just people gathering salt from the rocks.”

“People!” said I; “you don’t know what you are saying, Jack; I could excuse Francis and his gnomes,—it would be at least a poetic fancy, but yours is quite absurd. Where are the people to come from?”

“People!” I said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jack. I could understand Francis and his gnomes—that would at least be a poetic idea, but yours is just ridiculous. Where are the people supposed to come from?”

“But what else can it be?” said he. “Hark! you may hear them strike the rock.”

“But what else could it be?” he said. “Listen! You can hear them hitting the rock.”

“Be certain, however,” said I, “there are no people.” At that moment, I distinctly heard human voices, speaking, laughing, and apparently clapping their hands. I could not distinguish any words; I was struck with a mortal terror; but Jack, whom nothing could alarm, clapped his hands also, with joy, that he had guessed right. “What did I say, papa? Was I not right? Are there not people within the rock?—friends, I hope.” He was approaching the rock, when it appeared to me to be shaking; a stone soon fell down, then another. I seized hold of Jack, to drag him away, lest he should be crushed by the fragments of rock. At that moment another stone fell, and we saw two heads appear through the opening,—the heads of Fritz and Ernest. Judge of our surprise and joy! Jack was soon through the opening, and assisting his brothers to enlarge it. As soon as I could enter, I stepped in, and found myself in a real grotto, of a round form, with a vaulted roof, divided by a narrow crevice, which admitted the light and air. It was, however, better lighted by two large gourd lamps. I saw my long ladder of ropes suspended from the opening at the top, and thus comprehended how my sons had penetrated into this recess, which it was impossible to suspect the existence of from the outside. But how had they discovered it? and what were they making of it? These were my two questions. Ernest replied at once to the last. “I wished,” said he, “to make a resting-place for my mother, when she came to her garden. My brothers have each built some place for her, and called it by their name. I had a desire that some place in our island might be dedicated to Ernest, and I now present you the Grotto Ernestine.”

“Just so you know,” I said, “there aren’t any people here.” At that moment, I clearly heard human voices—talking, laughing, and apparently clapping their hands. I couldn’t make out any words; I was hit with a wave of terror, but Jack, who wasn't easily scared, clapped his hands happily, proud that he had been right. “What did I say, Dad? Was I right? Aren't there people inside the rock?—I hope they’re friends.” He moved closer to the rock when it seemed to shake; a stone fell, then another. I grabbed Jack to pull him back, worried he might get crushed by the falling rocks. At that moment, another stone dropped, and we saw two heads peek through the opening—Fritz’s and Ernest’s. Imagine our surprise and joy! Jack quickly squeezed through the opening and helped his brothers make it bigger. As soon as I could fit in, I stepped inside and found myself in a real grotto, round and with a vaulted ceiling, divided by a narrow crack that let in light and air. It was even better lit by two large gourd lamps. I noticed my long rope ladder hanging from the opening above, and I realized how my sons had gotten into this hidden space that was impossible to detect from the outside. But how had they discovered it? And what were they doing here? Those were my two questions. Ernest immediately answered the second. “I wanted,” he said, “to create a resting place for Mom when she visits her garden. My brothers each built a spot for her and named it after themselves. I wanted a place in our island dedicated to Ernest, and I now present to you the Grotto Ernestine.”

“And after all,” said Jack, “it will make a pretty dwelling for the first of us that marries.”

“And after all,” Jack said, “it will make a nice home for the first of us who gets married.”

“Silence, little giddy-pate,” said I; “where do you expect to find a wife in this island? Do you think you shall discover one among the rocks, as your brothers have discovered the grotto? But tell me, Fritz, what directed you here.”

“Be quiet, you silly head,” I said; “where do you think you’re going to find a wife on this island? Do you really believe you'll stumble upon one among the rocks, like your brothers found the grotto? But tell me, Fritz, what brought you here?”

“Our good star, father,” said he. “Ernest and I were walking round these rocks, and talking of his wish for a resting-place for my mother on her way to the garden. He projected a tent; but the path was too narrow to admit it; and the rock, heated by the sun, was like a stove. We were considering what we should do, when I saw on the summit of the rock a very beautiful little unknown quadruped. From its form I should have taken it for a young chamois, if I had been in Switzerland; but Ernest reminded me that the chamois was peculiar to cold countries, and he thought it was a gazelle or antelope; probably the gazelle of Guinea or Java, called by naturalists the chevrotain. You may suppose I tried to climb the rock on which this little animal remained standing, with one foot raised, and its pretty head turning first to one side and then to the other; but it was useless to attempt it here, where the rock was smooth and perpendicular; besides, I should have put the gazelle to flight, as it is a timid and wild animal. I then remembered there was a place near Tent House where a considerable break occurred in the chain of rocks, and we found that, with a little difficulty, the rock might be scaled by ascending this ravine. Ernest laughed at me, and asked me if I expected the antelope would wait patiently till I got to it? No matter, I determined to try, and I told him to remain; but he soon determined to accompany me, for he fancied that in the fissure of a rock he saw a flower of a beautiful rose-colour, which was unknown to him. My learned botanist thought it must be an erica, or heath, and wished to ascertain the fact. One helping the other, we soon got through all difficulties, and arrived at the summit; and here we were amply repaid by the beautiful prospect on every side. We will talk of that afterwards, father; I have formed some idea of the country which these rocks separate us from. But to return to our grotto. I went along, first looking for my pretty gazelle, which I saw licking a piece of rock, where doubtless she found some salt. I was hardly a hundred yards from her, my gun ready, when I was suddenly stopped by a crevice, which I could not cross, though the opening was not very wide. The pretty quadruped was on the rock opposite to me; but of what use would it have been to shoot it, when I could not secure it. I was obliged to defer it till a better opportunity offered, and turned to examine the opening, which appeared deep; still I could see that the bottom of the cavity was white, like that of our former grotto. I called Ernest, who was behind me, with his plants and stones, to impart to him an idea that suddenly struck me. It was, to make this the retreat for my mother. I told him that I believed the floor of the cave was nearly on a level with the path that led to the garden, and we had only to make an opening in the form of a natural grotto, and it would be exactly what he wished. Ernest was much pleased with the idea, and said he could easily ascertain the level by means of a weight attached to a string; but though he was startled at the difficulty of descending to our labour every day, and returning in the evening, he would not agree to my wish of beginning at the outside of the rock, as we had done in our former grotto, He had several reasons for wishing to work from within. ‘In the first place,’ said he, ‘it will be so much cooler this summer weather; we should be soon unable to go on labouring before the burning rock; then our path is so narrow, that we should not know how to dispose of the rubbish; in the interior, it will serve us to make a bench round the grotto; besides, I should have such pleasure in completing it secretly, and unsuspected, without any assistance or advice except yours, my dear Fritz, which I accept with all my heart; so pray find out some means of descending and ascending readily.’

“Our good fortune, father,” he said. “Ernest and I were walking around these rocks, discussing his wish for a resting place for my mother on her way to the garden. He suggested a tent, but the path was too narrow for it, and the rock, heated by the sun, felt like an oven. We were trying to figure out what to do when I spotted a very beautiful little unknown animal on top of the rock. From its shape, I would have thought it was a young chamois if I were in Switzerland, but Ernest reminded me that chamois are found in cold areas, and he thought it might be a gazelle or antelope, probably the gazelle of Guinea or Java, which naturalists call the chevrotain. You can imagine I tried to climb the rock where this little animal stood, one foot raised, turning its pretty head from side to side. But it was pointless to try here because the rock was smooth and vertical; besides, I would have scared the gazelle away since it is a timid and wild creature. Then I remembered there was a place near Tent House where a significant break occurred in the chain of rocks, and we found that, with a little effort, we could climb the rock by going up this ravine. Ernest laughed at me and asked if I thought the antelope would wait patiently until I reached it. Regardless, I decided to give it a shot, and I told him to stay behind, but he quickly decided to join me because he thought he spotted a beautiful rose-colored flower in a crevice of a rock that he didn’t recognize. My knowledgeable botanist suspected it might be an erica, or heath, and wanted to confirm it. Helping each other, we soon overcame all obstacles and reached the top, where we were rewarded with a stunning view all around. We can talk about that later, father; I have some ideas about the country these rocks separate us from. But back to our grotto. I continued on, first looking for my pretty gazelle, which I saw licking a piece of rock, likely searching for salt. I was hardly a hundred yards away, gun ready, when I was suddenly stopped by a crevice I couldn’t cross, even though the opening wasn't very wide. The lovely animal was on the rock opposite me, but what good would it do to shoot it if I couldn’t catch it? I had to put that off until a better opportunity arose and turned to inspect the opening, which looked deep; still, I could see the bottom of the cavity was white, like our previous grotto. I called Ernest, who was behind me with his plants and stones, to share an idea that came to me. I thought we could make this our mother’s retreat. I told him I believed the floor of the cave was nearly at the same level as the path leading to the garden, and all we needed to do was create an opening shaped like a natural grotto, and it would be just what he wanted. Ernest was really excited about the idea and said he could easily check the level using a weight tied to a string, but he seemed hesitant about the difficulty of going down to work each day and returning in the evening. He wouldn’t agree to my suggestion of starting from outside the rock, as we had done in our previous grotto. He had several reasons for wanting to work from inside. ‘First,’ he said, ‘it’ll be much cooler in this summer heat; we wouldn’t be able to work in front of the scorching rock for long. Then our path is so narrow that we wouldn’t know how to handle the debris; inside, we could use it to make a bench around the grotto. Also, I would really enjoy finishing it secretly and without anyone noticing, with your assistance and advice, which I wholeheartedly appreciate, my dear Fritz. So please find a way for us to get down and back up easily.’”

“I immediately recollected your rope ladder, father; it was forty feet long, and we could easily fasten it to the point of the rock. Ernest was delighted and sanguine. We returned with all speed. We took first a roll of cord and some candles; then the rope ladder, which we rolled up as well as we could, but had great difficulty in conveying it up the rock; once or twice, when the ascent was very difficult, we were obliged to fasten a cord to it, and draw it up after us; but determination, courage, and perseverance overcame all obstacles. We arrived at the opening, and, on sounding it, we were glad to find our ladder would be long enough to reach the bottom. We then measured the outside of the rock, and ascertained that the floor of the grotto was near the same level as the ground outside. We remembered your lessons, father, and made some experiments to discover if it contained mephitic air. We first lighted some candles, which were not extinguished; we then kindled a large heap of sticks and dried grass, which-burned well, the smoke passing through the opening like a chimney. Having no uneasiness about this, we deferred our commencement till the next day. Then we lighted the forge, and pointed some iron bars we found in the magazine; these were to be our tools to break open the rock. We secured, also, your chisel, as well as some hammers, and all our tools were thrown down below; we then arranged two gourds to serve us for lamps; and when all was ready, and our ladder firmly fixed, we descended ourselves; and we have nothing more to tell you, except that we were very glad when we heard your voices outside, at the very time when our work was drawing to an end. We were sure, when we distinguished your voices so clearly, that we must be near the external air; we redoubled our efforts, and here we are. Now tell us, father, are you pleased with our idea? and will you forgive us for making a mystery of it?”

“I immediately remembered your rope ladder, Dad; it was forty feet long, and we could easily attach it to the top of the rock. Ernest was excited and optimistic. We rushed back quickly. First, we grabbed a roll of cord and some candles; then we took the rope ladder, which we rolled up as best as we could, but had a lot of trouble getting it up the rock. A couple of times, when the climb was really tough, we had to tie a cord to it and pull it up behind us; but determination, bravery, and perseverance got us through all the challenges. We reached the opening, and when we checked it out, we were happy to find that our ladder would reach all the way to the bottom. We then measured the outside of the rock and found out that the floor of the grotto was about the same level as the ground outside. We remembered your lessons, Dad, and did some tests to see if there was any foul air in there. We first lit some candles, which stayed lit; then we started a big fire with sticks and dry grass, which burned well, with the smoke flowing through the opening like a chimney. Not worrying about it, we decided to wait until the next day to begin our work. Then we fired up the forge and sharpened some iron bars we found in the shed; these were going to be our tools to break open the rock. We also grabbed your chisel and some hammers, and threw all our tools down below. We then set up two gourds to use as lamps; and when everything was ready, and our ladder securely attached, we went down ourselves. We have nothing more to share with you except that we were really happy when we heard your voices outside, just as we were finishing up. We knew when we clearly heard your voices that we had to be close to fresh air; we doubled our efforts, and here we are. Now tell us, Dad, are you happy with our plan? And will you forgive us for keeping it a secret?”

I assured them of my forgiveness, and my cordial approbation of their manly and useful enterprise; and made Ernest happy by declaring that it should always be called the Grotto Ernestine.

I assured them that I forgave them and was fully onboard with their brave and beneficial project; I also made Ernest happy by announcing that it would always be called the Grotto Ernestine.

“Thanks to you all, my dear children,” said I; “your dear mamma will now prefer Tent House to Falcon’s Nest, and will have no occasion to risk breaking a limb in descending the winding staircase. I will assist you to enlarge the opening, and as we will leave it all the simplicity of a natural grotto, it will soon be ready.”

“Thanks to all of you, my dear children,” I said; “your dear mom will now prefer Tent House to Falcon’s Nest and won’t have to risk breaking a limb going down the winding staircase. I’ll help you make the opening bigger, and since we’ll keep it simple like a natural grotto, it will be ready soon.”

We all set to work; Jack carried away the loosened stones and rubbish, and formed benches on each side the grotto. With what had fallen outside, he also made two seats in the front of the rock, and before evening all was complete. Fritz ascended to unfasten the ladder, and to convey it by an easier road to Tent House; he then rejoined us, and we returned to our castle in the air, which was henceforward only to be looked on as a pleasure-house. We resolved, however, to establish here, as we had done at our farm, a colony of our cattle, which increased daily: we had now a number of young cows, which were most useful for our support. We wished, however, for a female buffalo, as the milk of that animal makes excellent cheese. Conversing on our future plans, we soon reached home, and found all well.

We all got to work; Jack cleared away the loose stones and debris, and built benches on either side of the grotto. With what had fallen outside, he also made two seats in front of the rock, and by evening everything was finished. Fritz climbed up to take down the ladder and bring it back to Tent House by an easier route; he then rejoined us, and we went back to our castle in the air, which would now only serve as a retreat. However, we decided to set up a colony for our livestock here, just like we had at our farm, which was growing daily: we now had several young cows, which were very helpful for our needs. We also wanted a female buffalo because its milk makes excellent cheese. While discussing our future plans, we soon got home and found everything well.


CHAPTER XLII.

In a few days we completed the Grotto Ernestine. It contained some stalactites; but not so many as our former grotto. We found, however, a beautiful block of salt, which resembled white marble, of which Ernest formed a sort of altar, supported by four pillars, on which he placed a pretty vase of citron-wood, which he had turned himself, and in which he arranged some of the beautiful erica which had been the cause of his discovering the grotto. It was one of those occasions when his feelings overcame his natural indolence, when he became for a time the most active of the four, and brought forward all his resources, which were many. This indolence was merely physical; when not excited by any sudden circumstance, or by some fancy which soon assumed the character of a passion, he loved ease, and to enjoy life tranquilly in study. He improved his mind continually, as well by his excellent memory, as by natural talent and application. He reflected, made experiments, and was always successful. He had at last succeeded in making his mother a very pretty bonnet. He had also composed some verses, which were intended to celebrate her visit to Tent House; and this joyful day being at last fixed, the boys all went over, the evening before, to make their preparations. The flowers that the storm had spared were gathered to ornament the fountains, the altar, and the table, on which was placed an excellent cold dinner, entirely prepared by themselves. Fritz supplied and roasted the game,—a fine bustard, the flesh of which resembles a turkey, and a brace of partridges. Ernest brought pines, melons, and figs; Jack should have supplied the fish, but was able only to procure oysters, crabs, and turtles’ eggs. Francis had the charge of the dessert, which consisted of a dish of strawberries, honeycomb, and the cream of the cocoa-nut. I had contributed a bottle of Canary wine, that we might drink mamma’s health. All was arranged on a table in the middle of the Franciade, and my sons returned to accompany the expedition next day.

In a few days, we finished the Grotto Ernestine. It had some stalactites, but not as many as our previous grotto. However, we found a beautiful block of salt that looked like white marble, which Ernest used to create a kind of altar supported by four pillars. On it, he placed a lovely vase made of citron wood that he had turned himself, filled with some of the stunning erica that led him to discover the grotto. It was one of those times when his emotions overcame his natural laziness; he became the most active of the four and utilized all of his many resources. This laziness was purely physical; when he wasn't stimulated by some sudden event or a whim that quickly turned into a passion, he enjoyed relaxation and had a peaceful life filled with study. He constantly improved his mind through his excellent memory, natural talent, and dedication. He reflected, conducted experiments, and was always successful. He had finally made his mother a beautiful bonnet. He also wrote some verses to celebrate her visit to Tent House; after much anticipation, the joyful day was finally set, and the boys headed over the evening before to make their preparations. The flowers that the storm had spared were gathered to decorate the fountains, the altar, and the table, which held a delicious cold dinner entirely made by them. Fritz provided and roasted the game—a fine bustard, which tastes like turkey, and a pair of partridges. Ernest brought pines, melons, and figs; Jack was supposed to supply the fish but managed only to find oysters, crabs, and turtle eggs. Francis was in charge of dessert, which included strawberries, honeycomb, and coconut cream. I contributed a bottle of Canary wine so we could toast to Mom’s health. Everything was set up on a table in the middle of the Franciade, and my sons returned to join the expedition the next day.

The morning was beautiful, and the sun shone brightly on our emigration. My wife was anxious to set out, expecting she should have to return to her aërial dwelling. Though her leg and foot were better, she still walked feebly, and she begged us to harness the cow and ass to the cart, and to lead them as gently as possible.

The morning was beautiful, and the sun shone brightly on our journey. My wife was eager to get going, worried that she might have to come back to her sky-high home. Even though her leg and foot were improved, she still walked unsteadily, and she asked us to hook up the cow and donkey to the cart and to lead them as gently as we could.

“I will only go a little way the first day,” said she, “for I am not strong enough to visit Tent House yet.”

“I’ll only go a little way the first day,” she said, “because I’m not strong enough to visit Tent House yet.”

We felt quite convinced she would change her opinion when once in her litter. I wished to carry her down the staircase; but she declined, and descended very well with the help of my arm. When the door was opened, and she found herself once more in the open air, surrounded by her children, she thanked God, with tears of gratitude, for her recovery, and all his mercies to us. Then the pretty osier carriage arrived. They had harnessed the cow and young bull to it; Francis answering for the docility of Valiant, provided he guided him himself. Accordingly, he was mounted before, his cane in his hand, and his bow and quiver on his back, very proud to be mamma’s charioteer. My other three boys mounted on their animals, were ready before, to form the advanced guard, while I proposed to follow, and watch over the whole. My wife was moved even to tears, and could not cease admiring her new carriage, which Fritz and Jack presented to her as their own work. Francis, however, boasted that he had carded the cotton for the soft cushion on which she was to sit, and I, that I had made it. I then lifted her in, and as soon as she was seated Ernest came to put her new bonnet on her head, which greatly delighted her; it was of fine straw, and so thick and firm that it might even defend her from the rain. But what pleased her most was, that it was the shape worn by the Swiss peasants in the Canton of Vaud, where my dear wife had resided some time in her youth. She thanked all her dear children, and felt so easy and comfortable in her new conveyance, that we arrived at Family Bridge without her feeling the least fatigue. Here we stopped.

We were pretty sure she would change her mind once she was in her litter. I wanted to carry her down the stairs, but she refused and managed to go down with my help. When the door opened and she stepped outside, surrounded by her children, she thanked God, with tears of gratitude, for her recovery and all His blessings to us. Then the lovely osier carriage arrived. They had hitched the cow and young bull to it; Francis guaranteed that Valiant would behave as long as he was in charge of him. So, he proudly sat upfront with his cane in hand, along with his bow and quiver on his back, thrilled to be mom’s charioteer. My other three boys were mounted on their animals, ready to lead the way, while I planned to follow and keep an eye on everything. My wife was moved to tears and couldn’t stop admiring her new carriage that Fritz and Jack said they made. Francis, however, claimed he had carded the cotton for the comfortable cushion she would sit on, and I said I had built it. I helped her in, and as soon as she was settled, Ernest came over to place her new bonnet on her head, which she absolutely loved; it was made of fine straw, thick and sturdy enough to protect her from the rain. But what she loved most was that it was the same style worn by Swiss peasants from the Canton of Vaud, where my dear wife had lived for a while in her youth. She thanked all her beloved children and felt so relaxed and comfortable in her new ride that we made it to Family Bridge without her feeling the slightest bit tired. Here we paused.

“Would you like to cross here, my dear?” said I; “and as we are very near, look in at your convenient Tent House, where you will have no staircase to ascend. And we should like to know, too, if you approve of our management of your garden,”

“Would you like to cross here, my dear?” I asked. “Since we’re very close, why not take a peek into your cozy Tent House, where you won’t have to climb any stairs? We’d also love to hear your thoughts on how we’ve been taking care of your garden.”

“As you please,” said she; “in fact, I am so comfortable in my carriage, that if it were necessary, I could make the tour of the island. I should like to see my house again; but it will be so very hot at this season, that we must not stay long.”

“As you wish,” she said; “actually, I’m so comfortable in my carriage that if needed, I could travel around the island. I would like to see my house again; but it’s going to be really hot this time of year, so we shouldn't stay long.”

“But you must dine there, my dear mother,” said Fritz; “it is too late to return to dinner at Falcon’s Nest; consider, too, the fatigue it would occasion you.”

“But you have to eat there, my dear mom,” said Fritz; “it’s too late to go back for dinner at Falcon’s Nest; think about how tired it would make you.”

“I would be very glad, indeed, my dear,” said she; “but what are we to dine on? We have prepared no provision, and I fear we shall all be hungry.”

“I would be very happy to, my dear,” she said; “but what are we going to have for dinner? We haven't prepared anything, and I'm afraid we'll all be hungry.”

“What matter,” said Jack, “provided you dine with us? You must take your chance. I will go and get some oysters, that we may not die with hunger;” and off he galloped on his buffalo. Fritz followed him, on some pretence, on Lightfoot. Mamma wished she had brought a vessel to carry some water from the river, for she knew we could get none at Tent House. Francis reminded her we could milk the cow, and she was satisfied, and enjoyed her journey much. At last we arrived before the colonnade. My wife was dumb with wonder for some moments.

“What does it matter,” Jack said, “as long as you join us for dinner? You’ve got to take your chances. I’ll go grab some oysters so we don’t starve;” and off he rode on his buffalo. Fritz followed him, pretending to do something on Lightfoot. Mom wished she had brought a container to collect water from the river because she knew we wouldn’t have any at Tent House. Francis reminded her that we could milk the cow, and that made her happy, so she enjoyed the trip a lot. Finally, we arrived at the colonnade. My wife was speechless with wonder for a few moments.

“Where am I, and what do I see?” said she, when she could speak.

“Where am I, and what do I see?” she said, when she could speak.

“You see the Franciade, mamma,” said her little boy; “this beautiful colonnade was my invention, to protect you from the heat; stay, read what is written above: Francis to his dear mother. May this colonnade, which is called the Franciade, be to her a temple of happiness. Now mamma, lean on me, and come and see my brothers’ gifts—much better than mine;” and he led her to Jack’s pavilion, who was standing by the fountain. He held a shell in his hand, which he filled with water, and drank, saying, “To the health of the Queen of the Island; may she have no more accidents, and live as long as her children! Long live Queen Elizabeth, and may she come every day to Jackia, to drink her son Jack’s health.”

“You see the Franciade, mom,” said her little boy; “this beautiful colonnade was my idea to keep you cool; look, read what’s written up there: Francis to his dear mother. May this colonnade, called the Franciade, be a temple of happiness for her. Now, mom, lean on me and let’s check out my brothers’ gifts—much better than mine;” and he took her to Jack’s pavilion, where he was standing by the fountain. He held a shell in his hand, filled it with water, and drank, saying, “To the health of the Queen of the Island; may she have no more accidents and live as long as her children! Long live Queen Elizabeth, and may she come to Jackia every day to drink to her son Jack’s health.”

I supported my wife, and was almost as much affected as herself. She wept and trembled with joy and surprise. Jack and Ernest then joined their hands, and carried her to the other pavilion, where Fritz was waiting to receive her, and the same scene of tenderness ensued. “Accept this pavilion, dear mother,” said he; “and may Fritzia ever make you think on Fritz.”

I supported my wife and was almost as affected as she was. She cried and trembled with joy and surprise. Jack and Ernest then joined their hands and carried her to the other pavilion, where Fritz was waiting to welcome her, and the same scene of tenderness followed. “Accept this pavilion, dear mother,” he said, “and may Fritzia always remind you of Fritz.”

The delighted mother embraced them all, and observing Ernest’s name was not commemorated by any trophy, thanked him again for her beautiful bonnet. She then drank some of the delicious water of the fountain, and returned to seat herself at the repast, which was another surprise for her. We all made an excellent dinner; and at the dessert, I handed my Canary wine round in shells; and then Ernest rose and sung us very prettily, to a familiar air, some little verses he had composed:—

The happy mother hugged everyone and, noticing that Ernest's name wasn't on any trophy, thanked him again for her lovely bonnet. She then took a sip of the delicious fountain water and went back to sit down for a meal, which was another surprise for her. We all enjoyed a fantastic dinner, and for dessert, I passed around my Canary wine in shells; then Ernest stood up and sang us some sweet little verses he had written to a familiar tune:—

On this festive happy day,
Let us pour our grateful lay;
Since Heaven has hush’d our mother’s pain,
And given her to her sons again.
Then from this quiet, lovely home
Never, never, may we roam.
All we love around us smile:
Joyful is our desert isle.

When o’er our mother’s couch we bent,
Fervent prayers to Heaven we sent,
And God has spared that mother dear,
To bless her happy children here.
Then from this quiet, lovely home,
Never, never, may we roam;
All we love around us smile,
Joyful is our desert isle.

We all joined in the chorus, and none of us thought of the ship, of Europe, or of anything that was passing in the world. The island was our universe, and Tent House was a palace we would not have exchanged for any the world contained. This was one of those happy days that God grants us sometimes on earth, to give us an idea of the bliss of Heaven; and most fervently did we thank Him, at the end of our repast, for all his mercies and blessings to us.

We all sang together, and none of us thought about the ship, Europe, or anything happening in the world. The island was our entire universe, and Tent House was a palace we wouldn’t have traded for anything else in the world. This was one of those joyful days that God sometimes gives us on earth, to hint at the happiness of Heaven; and we sincerely thanked Him, at the end of our meal, for all His kindness and blessings.

After dinner, I told my wife she must not think of returning to Falcon’s Nest, with all its risks of storms and the winding staircase, and she could not better recompense her sons for their labours than by living among them. She was of the same opinion, and was very glad to be so near her kitchen and her stores, and to be able to walk alone with the assistance of a stick in the colonnade, which she could do already; but she made me promise to leave Falcon’s Nest as it was. It would be a pretty place to walk to, and besides, this castle in the air was her own invention. We agreed that this very evening she should take possession of her own pretty room, with the good felt carpet, on which she could walk without fear; and that the next day, I should go with my elder sons and the animals to bring the cart, such utensils as we needed, and above all, the poultry. Our dogs always followed their masters, as well as the monkey and jackal, and they were so domesticated, we had no trouble with them.

After dinner, I told my wife she shouldn’t think about going back to Falcon’s Nest, with all its storm risks and the spiral staircase. The best way she could reward our sons for their hard work was by living with them. She agreed and was really happy to be so close to her kitchen and supplies, and she liked being able to walk alone with a cane in the colonnade, which she could already do. But she made me promise to leave Falcon’s Nest as it was. It would be a nice place to visit, and besides, this dream was her creation. We decided that tonight she would move into her lovely room, with the nice felt carpet where she could walk without worries. The next day, I would take my older sons and the animals to bring back the cart, some tools we needed, and most importantly, the chickens. Our dogs always followed their owners, along with the monkey and jackal, and they were so well-behaved that we never had any issues with them.

I then prevailed on my wife to go into her room and rest for an hour, after which we were to visit the garden. She complied, and after her repose found her four sons ready to carry her in her litter as in a sedan-chair. They took care to bring her straight to the grotto, where I was waiting for her. This was a new surprise for the good mother. She could not sufficiently express her astonishment and delight, when Jack and Francis, taking their flageolets, accompanied their brothers, who sung the following verse, which Ernest had added to his former attempt.

I then convinced my wife to go to her room and rest for an hour, after which we were going to visit the garden. She agreed, and after her break, she found her four sons ready to carry her in her litter like a sedan chair. They took her directly to the grotto, where I was waiting for her. This was a new surprise for the good mother. She couldn't fully express her amazement and joy when Jack and Francis, taking their flageolets, joined their brothers, who sang the following verse that Ernest had added to his previous attempt.

Dear mother, let this gift be mine,
Accept the Grotto Ernestine.
May all your hours be doubly blest
Within this tranquil place of rest.
Then from this quiet, lovely home
Never, never may we roam;
All we love around us smile.
Joyful is our desert isle!

What cause had we to rejoice in our children! we could not but shed tears to witness their affection and perfect happiness.

What reason do we have to celebrate our kids! We couldn't help but cry seeing their love and complete joy.

Below the vase of flowers, on the block of salt, Ernest had written:—

Below the vase of flowers, on the block of salt, Ernest had written:—

Ernest, assisted by his brother Fritz,
  Has prepared this grotto,
As a retreat for his beloved mother,
  When she visits her garden.

Ernest then conducted his mother to one of the benches, which he had covered with soft moss, as a seat for her, and there she rested at her ease to hear the history of the discovery of the grotto. It was now my turn to offer my present; the garden, the embankment, the pond, and the arbour. She walked, supported by my arm, to view her little empire, and her delight was extreme; the pond, which enabled her to water her vegetables, particularly pleased her, as well as her shady arbour, under which she found all her gardening tools, ornamented with flowers, and augmented by two light watering-pans, constructed by Jack and Francis, from two gourds. They had canes for spouts, with the gourd bottles at the end, pierced with holes, through which the water came in the manner of a watering-pan. The embankment was also a great surprise; she proposed to place plants of pines and melon on it, and I agreed to it. Truly did she rejoice at the appearance of the vegetables, which promised us some excellent European provision, a great comfort to her. After expressing her grateful feelings, she returned to the grotto, and seating herself in her sedan-chair, returned to Tent House, to enjoy the repose she needed, after such a day of excitement. We did not, however, lie down before we had together thanked God for the manifold blessings he had given us, and for the pleasure of that day.

Ernest then led his mother to one of the benches, which he had covered with soft moss for her to sit on, and there she relaxed to hear the story of how the grotto was discovered. Now it was my turn to present my gift: the garden, the embankment, the pond, and the arbour. She walked, leaning on my arm, to explore her little kingdom, and she was absolutely delighted; the pond, which would help her water her vegetables, particularly pleased her, along with her shady arbour where she found all her gardening tools, decorated with flowers, and enhanced by two light watering-pans that Jack and Francis made from two gourds. They had added canes for spouts, with the gourd bottles at the end, pierced with holes that let the water flow like a watering can. The embankment also amazed her; she suggested planting pines and melons on it, and I agreed. She truly rejoiced at the sight of the vegetables, which promised us some great European food, a huge comfort for her. After expressing her gratitude, she went back to the grotto, sat in her sedan chair, and returned to Tent House to enjoy the rest she needed after such an exciting day. However, we didn't lie down before we together thanked God for the many blessings he had given us and for the joy of that day.

“If I had been in Europe,” said my dear wife, “on the festival of my recovery, I should have received a nosegay, a ribbon, or some trinket; here I have had presented a carriage, a colonnade, pavilions, ornamental fountains, a large grotto, a garden, a pond, an arbour, and a straw bonnet!”

“If I had been in Europe,” said my dear wife, “on the day of my recovery, I would have received a bouquet, a ribbon, or some little gift; here I have been given a carriage, a colonnade, pavilions, decorative fountains, a large grotto, a garden, a pond, a gazebo, and a straw hat!”


CHAPTER XLIII.

THE next and following days were spent in removing our furniture and property, particularly our poultry, which had multiplied greatly. We also constructed a poultry-yard, at a sufficient distance from our house to save our sleep from disturbance, and still so near that we could easily tend them. We made it as a continuation of the colonnade, and on the same plan, but enclosed in the front by a sort of wire trellis-work, which Fritz and Jack made wonderfully well. Fritz, who had a turn for architecture and mechanics, gave me some good hints, especially one, which we put into execution. This was to carry the water from the basin of the fountain through the poultry-yard, which enabled us also to have a little pond for our ducks. The pigeons had their abode above the hen-roosts, in some pretty baskets, which Ernest and Francis made, similar to those made by the savages of the Friendly Isles, of which they had seen engravings in Cook’s Voyages. When all was finished, my wife was delighted to think that even in the rainy season she could attend to her feathered family and collect their eggs.

The next few days were spent moving our furniture and belongings, especially our chickens, which had multiplied a lot. We also built a chicken coop far enough from the house to save us from disturbances at night, but close enough that we could easily take care of them. We designed it as an extension of the colonnade, following the same layout, but we enclosed the front with a kind of wire trellis, which Fritz and Jack made really well. Fritz, who had a knack for architecture and mechanics, gave me some useful advice, especially one idea that we implemented. This was to direct the water from the fountain's basin through the chicken yard, which also allowed us to create a small pond for our ducks. The pigeons lived above the hen house in some nice baskets that Ernest and Francis made, similar to those crafted by the natives of the Friendly Isles, which they had seen in engravings from Cook’s Voyages. When everything was finished, my wife was thrilled to think that even during the rainy season, she could look after her feathered family and gather their eggs.

“What a difference,” said she, admiring the elegance of our buildings,—“what a difference between this Tent House and the original dwelling that suggested the name to us, and which was our only shelter four years ago. What a surprising progress luxury has made with us in that time! Do you remember, my dear, the barrel which served us for a table, and the oyster-shells for spoons, the tent where we slept, crowded together on dried leaves, and without undressing, and the river half a mile off, where we were obliged to go to drink if we were thirsty? Compared to what we were then, we are now great lords

“What a difference,” she said, admiring the elegance of our buildings. “What a difference between this Tent House and the original dwelling that inspired the name, which was our only shelter four years ago. It’s amazing how much luxury has progressed for us in that time! Do you remember, my dear, the barrel we used as a table and the oyster shells for spoons? The tent where we slept, all crammed together on dried leaves, without undressing, and the river half a mile away, which we had to go to for a drink when we were thirsty? Compared to what we were then, we’re now great lords.”

“Kings, you mean, mamma,” said Jack, “for all this island is ours, and it is quite like a kingdom.”

“Kings, you mean, Mom,” said Jack, “because this whole island is ours, and it really feels like a kingdom.”

“And how many millions of subjects does Prince Jack reckon in the kingdom of his august father?” said I.

“And how many millions of subjects does Prince Jack think there are in the kingdom of his great father?” I asked.

Prince Jack declared he had not yet counted the parrots, kangaroos, agoutis, and monkeys. The laughter of his brothers stopped him. I then agreed with my wife that our luxuries had increased; but I explained to her that this was the result of our industry. All civilized nations have commenced as we did; necessity has developed the intellect which God has given to man alone, and by degrees the arts have progressed, and knowledge has extended more perhaps than is conducive to happiness. What appeared luxury to us now was still simplicity compared with the luxury of towns, or even villages, among civilized nations. My wife declared she had everything she wished for, and should not know what more to ask for, as we now had only to rest and enjoy our happiness.

Prince Jack said he hadn’t counted the parrots, kangaroos, agoutis, and monkeys yet. The laughter of his brothers interrupted him. I then agreed with my wife that we had more luxuries, but I explained to her that this was due to our hard work. All civilized nations started out like we did; necessity has sharpened the intellect that God has given only to humans, and gradually the arts have advanced, and knowledge has spread, perhaps more than is truly good for our happiness. What seemed luxurious to us now was still simple compared to the luxury found in towns or even villages among civilized nations. My wife said she had everything she wanted and couldn’t think of anything more to ask for, as we now only needed to relax and enjoy our happiness.

I declared against spending our time in rest and indolence, as the sure means of ending our pleasure; and I well knew my dear wife was, like myself, an enemy to idleness; but she dreaded any more laborious undertakings.

I insisted that we shouldn’t waste our time resting and being lazy, as that would definitely ruin our enjoyment; and I knew my dear wife was, like me, opposed to idleness; but she was afraid of taking on any more strenuous tasks.

“But, mamma,” said Fritz, “you must let me make a mill under the cascade; it will be so useful when our corn grows, and even now for the maize. I also think of making an oven in the kitchen, which will be very useful for you to bake your bread in.”

“But, Mom,” said Fritz, “you have to let me build a mill under the waterfall; it will be really helpful when our corn grows, and even now for the maize. I’m also thinking about making an oven in the kitchen, which will be super useful for you to bake your bread in.”

“These would indeed be useful labours,” said the good mother, smiling; “but can you accomplish them?”

“These would definitely be helpful tasks,” said the good mother, smiling. “But can you actually do them?”

“I hope so,” said Fritz, “with the help of God and that of my dear brothers.”

"I hope so," said Fritz, "with the help of God and my dear brothers."

Ernest promised his best aid, in return for his brother’s kind services in forming his grotto, only requesting occasional leisure for his natural history collections. His mother did not see the utility of these collections, but, willing to indulge her kind and attentive Ernest, she offered, till she could walk well, to assist him in arranging and labelling his plants, which were yet in disorder, and he gratefully consented. In procuring her some paper for the purpose, of which I had brought a large quantity from the vessel, I brought out an unopened packet, amongst which was a piece of some fabric, neither paper nor stuff apparently. We examined it together, and at length remembered it was a piece of stuff made at Otaheite, which our captain had bought of a native at an island where we had touched on our voyage. Fritz appearing much interested in examining this cloth, Ernest said gravely, “I can teach you how to make it;” and immediately bringing Cook’s Voyages, where a detailed description is given, he proceeded to read it. Fritz was disappointed to find it could only be made of the bark of three trees—of these our island produced only one. These trees were the mulberry-tree, the bread-fruit, and the wild fig. We had the last in abundance, but of the two former we had not yet discovered a single plant. Fritz was not, however, discouraged. “They ought to be here,” said he, “since they are found in all the South Sea Islands. Perhaps we may find them on the other side of the rocks, where I saw some superb unknown trees from the height where we discovered the grotto; and who knows but I may find my pretty gazelle there again. The rogue can leap better than I can over those rocks. I had a great wish to descend them, but found it impossible; some are very high and perpendicular; others have overhanging summits; I might, however, get round as you did by the pass, between the torrent and the rocks at the Great Bay.”

Ernest promised his best help in return for his brother’s kind assistance in creating his grotto, only asking for some free time to work on his natural history collections. His mother didn’t see the point of these collections, but, eager to support her thoughtful and caring Ernest, she offered to help him organize and label his plants, which were still messy, until she could walk well again. He happily agreed. While getting her some paper for this purpose—I had brought a large supply from the ship—I pulled out an unopened packet, among which was a piece of material that seemed neither paper nor fabric. We looked at it together and eventually recalled it was cloth made in Otaheite, which our captain had bought from a local on an island we had visited during our voyage. Fritz, looking quite intrigued by this cloth, said seriously, “I can teach you how to make it;” and immediately grabbed Cook’s Voyages, which had a detailed description, and began to read. Fritz was disappointed to learn it could only be made from the bark of three types of trees—of which our island had only one. These trees were the mulberry, the breadfruit, and the wild fig. We had plenty of wild figs, but we hadn’t found a single specimen of the other two yet. However, Fritz wasn’t discouraged. “They should be around,” he said, “since they are found on all the South Sea Islands. Maybe we’ll find them on the other side of the rocks, where I saw some amazing unknown trees from the height where we found the grotto; and who knows, I might spot my pretty gazelle there again. That little rascal can jump better than I can over those rocks. I really wanted to climb down but found it impossible; some are very high and vertical, while others have overhanging cliffs; I might, however, find a way around like you did through the path between the waterfall and the rocks at the Great Bay.”

Jack offered to be his guide, even with his eyes shut, into that rich country where he conquered and captured his buffalo; and Ernest begged to be of the party. As this was an expedition I had long projected, I agreed to accompany them next day, their mother being content to have Francis left with her as a protector. I cautioned Fritz not to fire off his gun when we approached the buffaloes, as any show of hostility might render them furious; otherwise the animals, unaccustomed to man, have no fear of him, and will not harm him. “In general,” added I, “I cannot sufficiently recommend to you to be careful of your powder; we have not more than will last us a year, and there may be a necessity to have recourse to it for our defence.”

Jack offered to be his guide, even with his eyes shut, into that rich land where he hunted and captured his buffalo; and Ernest asked to join the group. Since this was an expedition I had been planning for a long time, I agreed to go with them the next day, and their mother was happy to have Francis stay with her as protection. I warned Fritz not to fire his gun when we got close to the buffaloes, as any sign of hostility could make them aggressive; otherwise, the animals, not used to humans, aren't afraid of him and won't harm him. “In general," I added, “I can’t stress enough how important it is to conserve our gunpowder; we don’t have more than enough to last us a year, and we might need it for our defense.”

“I have a plan for making it,” said Fritz, who never saw a difficulty in anything. “I know it is composed of charcoal, saltpetre, and sulphur—and we ought to find all these materials in the island. It is only necessary to combine them, and to form it into little round grains. This is my only difficulty; but I will consider it over; and I have my mill to think on first. I have a confused recollection of a powder manufactory at Berne: there was some machinery which went by water; this machinery moved some hammers, which pounded and mixed the ingredients—was not this the case, father?”

“I have a plan to make it,” said Fritz, who never saw a challenge in anything. “I know it’s made of charcoal, saltpeter, and sulfur—and we should be able to find all these materials on the island. It’s just a matter of combining them and forming them into little round grains. That’s my only issue; but I’ll think it over, and I have my mill to consider first. I have a vague memory of a powder factory in Bern: there was some machinery powered by water; this machinery operated some hammers that pounded and mixed the ingredients—wasn’t that right, Dad?”

“Something like it,” said I; “but we have many things to do before making powder. First, we must go to sleep; we must set out before daybreak, if we intend to return to-morrow evening.” We did indeed rise before the sun, which would not rise for us. The sky was very cloudy, and shortly we had an abundant and incessant rain, which obliged us to defer our journey, and put us all in bad humour, but my wife, who was not sorry to keep us with her, and who declared this gracious rain would water her garden, and bring it forward. Fritz was the first who consoled himself; he thought on nothing but building mills, and manufacturing gunpowder. He begged me to draw him a mill; this was very easy, so far as regards the exterior,—that is, the wheel, and the waterfall that sets it in motion; but the interior,—the disposition of the wheels, the stones to bruise the grain, the sieve, or bolter, to separate the flour from the bran; all this complicated machinery was difficult to explain; but he comprehended all, adding his usual expression,—“I will try, and I shall succeed.” Not to lose any time, and to profit by this rainy day, he began by making sieves of different materials, which he fastened to a circle of pliant wood, and tried by passing through them the flour of the cassava; he made some with sailcloth, others with the hair of the onagra, which is very long and strong, and some of the fibres of bark. His mother admired his work, which he continued to improve more and more; she assured him the sieve would be sufficient for her; it was useless to have the trouble of building a mill.

“Something like that,” I said; “but we have a lot to do before making gunpowder. First, we need to get some sleep; we should leave before dawn if we plan to come back tomorrow evening.” We really did wake up before the sun, which wouldn’t rise for us. The sky was very cloudy, and soon we had heavy and nonstop rain, which forced us to postpone our journey and put us all in a bad mood, except for my wife, who was glad to have us around and said this wonderful rain would water her garden and help it grow. Fritz was the first to cheer up; all he could think about was building mills and making gunpowder. He asked me to draw him a mill; the outside was easy to explain—the wheel and the waterfall that makes it work—but the inside—the arrangement of the wheels, the stones to crush the grain, the sieve to separate the flour from the bran—all that complicated machinery was hard to describe. But he understood it all, adding his usual phrase, “I will try, and I will succeed.” Not wanting to waste any time and wanting to make the most of this rainy day, he started making sieves from different materials, which he attached to a circle of flexible wood, and tested them by passing cassava flour through. He made some with sailcloth, others with long and strong onagra hair, and some from bark fibers. His mother admired his work, which he continued to improve more and more; she told him the sieve would be enough for her; it wasn’t necessary to go to the trouble of building a mill.

“But how shall we bruise the grain, mamma?” said he; “it would be tedious and hard work.”

“But how are we going to grind the grain, Mom?” he asked. “That sounds like a lot of tedious and hard work.”

“And you think there will be no hard work in building your mill?” said Jack. “I am curious to see how you will contrive to form that huge stone, which is called the millstone.”

“And you think there won’t be any hard work in building your mill?” said Jack. “I’m interested to see how you plan to shape that huge stone, known as the millstone.”

“You shall see,” said Fritz; “only find me the stone, and it shall soon be done. Do you think, father, that of our rock would be suitable?”

“You'll see,” said Fritz; “just find me the stone, and it will be done quickly. Do you think, dad, that our rock would work?”

I told him I thought it would be hard enough, but it would be difficult to cut from the rock a piece large enough for the purpose. He made his usual reply,— “I will try. Ernest and Jack will assist me; and perhaps you, papa.”

I told him I thought it would be tough enough, but it would be challenging to carve out a piece from the rock that was big enough for the purpose. He replied as he always does, — “I will try. Ernest and Jack will help me; and maybe you, dad.”

I declared my willingness, but named him the master-mason; we must only be his workmen. Francis was impatient to see the mill in operation. “Oh!” said Jack, “you shall soon have that pleasure. It is a mere trifle; we only want stone, wood, tools, and science.”

I said I was on board, but I called him the master-mason; we just need to be his workers. Francis was eager to see the mill running. “Oh!” Jack said, “you’ll have that pleasure soon. It's easy; we just need stone, wood, tools, and knowledge.”

At the word “science,” Ernest, who was reading in a corner, without listening to us, raised his head suddenly, saying,— “What science are you in need of?”

At the word “science,” Ernest, who was reading in a corner and not paying attention to us, suddenly looked up and said, — “What science do you need?”

“Of one you know nothing of, Mr. Philosopher,” said Jack. “Come, tell us, do you know how to build a mill?”

"About someone you know nothing about, Mr. Philosopher," Jack said. "Come on, tell us, do you know how to build a mill?"

“A mill?” answered Ernest; “of what description? There are many sorts. I was just looking in my dictionary for it. There are corn-mills, and powder-mills, oil-mills, wind-mills, water-mills, hand-mills, and saw-mills; which do you want?”

“A mill?” replied Ernest. “What kind are you talking about? There are so many types. I was just checking my dictionary. There are corn mills, powder mills, oil mills, windmills, watermills, hand mills, and sawmills; which one do you need?”

Fritz would have liked them all.

Fritz would have liked all of them.

“You remind me,” said I, “that we brought from the vessel a hand-mill and a saw-mill, taken to pieces, to be sure, but numbered and labelled, so that they could be easily united: they should be in the magazine, where you found the anvil and iron bars; I had forgotten them.”

"You remind me," I said, "that we brought a hand mill and a saw mill from the ship. They were taken apart, but they're numbered and labeled so they can be easily put back together. They should be in the storage area where you found the anvil and iron bars; I had completely forgotten about them."

“Let us go and examine them,” said Fritz, lighting his lantern; “I shall get some ideas from them.”

“Let’s go check them out,” said Fritz, turning on his lantern. “I’ll get some ideas from them.”

“Rather,” said his mother, “they will spare you the trouble of thinking and labouring.”

“Instead,” his mother said, “they will save you the effort of thinking and working.”

I sent them all four to seek these treasures, which, heaped in an obscure corner of the store-room, had escaped my recollection. When we were alone, I seriously besought my wife not to oppose any occupations our children might plan, however they might seem beyond their power; the great point being, to keep them continually occupied, so that no evil or dangerous fancies might fill their minds. “Let them,” I said, “cut stone, fell trees, or dig fountains, and bless God that their thoughts are so innocently directed.” She understood me, and promised not to discourage them, only fearing the excessive fatigue of these undertakings.

I sent all four of them to look for these treasures, which had piled up in a hidden corner of the storeroom and slipped my mind. When we were alone, I earnestly asked my wife not to oppose any activities our kids might want to pursue, no matter how impossible they might seem; the key was to keep them busy so that no harmful or dangerous thoughts would fill their heads. “Let them,” I said, “cut stone, chop down trees, or dig wells, and thank God that their thoughts are so innocently focused.” She understood me and promised not to discourage them, only worried about them getting overly tired from these tasks.

Our boys returned from the magazine, delighted with what they had found, and loaded with work-tools. Those of the masons,—the chisel, the short hammer, and the trowel, were not to be found, and rarely are taken out to sea; but they had collected a great number of carpenters’ tools,—saws, planes, rules, &c. And now that Fritz was a smith, he had no difficulty in making any tool he wanted. He was loaded on each shoulder, and in each hand he brought a specimen of gunpowder; one sort was in good condition, and they had found a barrel of it; the other was much damaged by the water. Jack and Francis were also bending under the weight of various articles; among which I saw some pieces of the hand-mill Fritz wished to examine. Ernest, always rather idle, came proudly on, with a leather belt across his shoulders, to which was suspended a large tin box for plants, and a leather portmanteau for stones, minerals, and shells. His brothers, even Francis, rallied him unmercifully on his immense burden; one offered to help him, another to go and bring the ass; he preserved his grave and thoughtful air, and extended himself on a seat near his mother, who was occupied with his specimens of natural history. Jack deposited his load in a corner, and ran out; we soon saw him return with a huge screw-machine on his head, which he placed before Ernest, saying, with an air of respect,—

Our boys came back from the store, excited about what they had discovered and loaded down with tools. They didn’t find the masons' tools—the chisel, the small hammer, and the trowel—since those are rarely taken out to sea; however, they had gathered a large number of carpenters’ tools—saws, planes, rules, etc. Now that Fritz was a blacksmith, he could easily make any tool he needed. He had tools hanging from both shoulders and in each hand he carried a sample of gunpowder; one type was in good shape, as they had found a barrel of it, while the other was pretty damaged by water. Jack and Francis were also burdened with a variety of items; among them, I noticed some parts of the hand-mill that Fritz wanted to check out. Ernest, who was always a bit lazy, strode in proudly with a leather belt across his shoulders, from which dangled a large tin box for plants and a leather suitcase for stones, minerals, and shells. His brothers, even Francis, teased him mercilessly about his heavy load; one offered to help him, another suggested going to get the donkey. He maintained his serious and thoughtful demeanor and settled down on a seat near his mother, who was busy with his natural history specimens. Jack dropped his load in a corner and rushed out; we soon saw him come back with a large screw machine balanced on his head, which he placed in front of Ernest, saying with a tone of respect,—

“I have the honour to bring for his Highness the Prince of the Idle Penguins, the press for his august plants, which his Highness doubtless found too heavy; and, truly, it is no little weight.”

“I’m honored to present to his Highness the Prince of the Idle Penguins the press for his esteemed plants, which I’m sure he found too heavy; and, indeed, it is quite a weight.”

Ernest did not know whether to thank him or to be angry, but he decided to join in the jest, and, therefore, answered gravely that he was distressed that his Highness the Prince of the Monkeys should have taken so much trouble to oblige him, that he ought to have employed some of his docile subjects to do it; after all, he confessed that the press, which he had not noticed, gave him great pleasure, and he placed some plants in it immediately, which he had collected the evening before.

Ernest didn't know whether to thank him or be angry, but he chose to go along with the joke and replied seriously that he was sorry his Highness the Prince of the Monkeys had gone to such lengths to help him, suggesting that he should have used some of his obedient subjects instead. After all, he admitted that the press, which he hadn't noticed before, brought him a lot of joy, and he immediately placed some plants in it that he had gathered the night before.

The rain ceasing for a short time, I went with Fritz and Jack to examine our embankment, and to open the sluices of the pond. We found all right, and our garden looking beautiful after the rain. On our return, we looked in at the Grotto Ernestine, which we found inundated from the opening above. We proposed to make a trench, or little channel, to carry off the rain-water from it. We returned home, and retired to bed, in hopes of being able to set out next morning. We were, however, again disappointed, and for a longer period than we expected. The rain continued some days, and the country was again a complete lake; we had, however, no storm or wind, and our possessions did not suffer; so we resolved to wait patiently till the weather would permit us to go. My wife was delighted to be in her comfortable abode, and to have us round her; neither did we waste the time. Ernest finished the arrangement of his collection with his mother and Francis. Fritz and Jack prepared the tools that would be wanted in their great undertaking—the first attempt was to be a saw-mill. In order to prepare the planks they wished, a very large saw, which they had found amongst the tools, would serve their purpose; but it was necessary to set it in motion by water, and here was the difficulty. Fritz made several models from the thin wood of our chests, and the wheels of our guns, but they were too small. In the mean time, the mind of my young mechanic was exercised, his ideas were enlarged and improved; and, as this science was so necessary in our situation, I allowed him to go on with his experiments. Notwithstanding the rain, protected by my cloak, he went several times to the cascade to look out for a place where he should place his mills to the best advantage, and have a constant supply of water. Ernest assisted him by his advice, and promised his labour when it should be needed. Jack and Francis were helping their mother to card cotton, of which she had made a large collection, intending to spin it for our clothing; and I exercised my mechanical talents in turning a large wheel for her, which it was necessary should revolve very easily, her leg being still stiff; and a reel, by which four bobbins were filled at once by turning a handle.

The rain stopped for a little while, so I went with Fritz and Jack to check on our embankment and to open the sluices of the pond. Everything was fine, and our garden looked beautiful after the rain. On our way back, we stopped by the Grotto Ernestine, which we found flooded from the opening above. We decided to make a trench, or small channel, to drain the rainwater away. We returned home and went to bed, hoping we could head out the next morning. However, we were once again disappointed, and it lasted longer than we expected. The rain continued for several days, and the whole area turned into a lake; fortunately, there was no storm or wind, and our belongings didn’t suffer, so we chose to wait patiently until the weather improved. My wife was happy to be in her cozy home with us around her; we also made good use of our time. Ernest finished organizing his collection with his mother and Francis. Fritz and Jack prepared the tools they would need for their big project—the first attempt would be a sawmill. To make the planks they wanted, they needed a very large saw they had found among the tools, but it had to be powered by water, which posed a challenge. Fritz made several models from the thin wood of our chests and the wheels from our guns, but they were too small. Meanwhile, my young mechanic kept his mind busy, his ideas growing and improving; since this knowledge was essential for our situation, I let him continue with his experiments. Despite the rain, protected by my cloak, he went several times to the waterfall to find the best spot to place his mills where they would have a constant supply of water. Ernest helped with advice and promised his assistance when needed. Jack and Francis were helping their mother to card cotton, which she had gathered in large amounts, intending to spin it for our clothing; I used my mechanical skills to create a large wheel for her that needed to turn very easily, as her leg was still stiff, and a reel that could fill four bobbins at once by turning a handle.

These different occupations aided us to pass the rainy season, which visited us earlier this year, and did not remain so long. My wife knew something of dyeing cloth; and, some of the plants she had helped Ernest to dry having left their colour on the papers, she made some experiments, and succeeded in obtaining a very pretty blue to dye our clothes with; and, with the cochineal from our fig-tree, a beautiful red brown, with which she had dyed for herself a complete dress.

These various activities helped us get through the rainy season, which hit us earlier this year but didn’t last too long. My wife knew a bit about dyeing fabric, and since some of the plants she had helped Ernest dry left their color on the papers, she tried some experiments. She succeeded in getting a really nice blue to dye our clothes, and using the cochineal from our fig tree, she created a beautiful reddish-brown, with which she dyed an entire dress for herself.

Thus passed several weeks. Ernest read to us from some amusing or instructive work every evening; and, when his collections were all put in order, he worked at his lathe, or at the business of weaving. At last the sun appeared; we spent some days enjoying it in our delightful colonnade. We went to visit the grotto and the garden, where all was going on well—the embankment had prevented the inundation. Satisfied with our work, we now fixed our departure for the next day, once more hoping the rain would not come again to disappoint us.

Several weeks went by. Ernest read to us from some entertaining or educational book every evening; and when he got all his collections organized, he worked at his lathe or on weaving. Finally, the sun came out; we spent a few days soaking it up in our lovely colonnade. We went to check out the grotto and the garden, where everything was going well—the embankment had stopped the flooding. Happy with our work, we set our departure for the next day, once again hoping the rain wouldn't come to ruin our plans.


CHAPTER XLIV.

The next day the weather was delightful. We rose before daybreak. My eldest sons took their work-tools, which we might want, and their guns also, but under the condition that they should not use them till I gave the word, “Fire!” I carried the bag of provisions. Our flock of sheep had increased so much at the farm, that we allowed ourselves to kill one, and my wife had roasted a piece for us the preceding evening; to this we added a cake of cassava, and for our dessert we depended on the fruits of the trees we might discover. But, previous to our departure, while I was taking leave of my wife and Francis, I heard a dispute in the colonnade, which I hastened to learn the cause of. I found it was a question between Fritz and Jack, whether we should make the tour of the island by sea or land; and each was anxious for my support. Fritz complained that, since their two expeditions in the canoe, Jack believed himself the first sailor in the world, and that they had given him the name of Lord of the Waves, because he was constantly saying—“When I was under the waves—when the waves were washing over me, do you think that they left me dry?”

The next day, the weather was great. We got up before dawn. My oldest sons grabbed their tools in case we needed them, along with their guns, but they had to wait for my command to say, "Fire!" I carried the bag of food. Our flock of sheep had grown so much on the farm that we decided to kill one, and my wife had roasted a piece for us the night before; we added a cassava cake to this, and for dessert, we planned to rely on the fruits from the trees we might find. Before we left, as I was saying goodbye to my wife and Francis, I heard an argument out in the colonnade, which I quickly went to check out. It turned out to be a discussion between Fritz and Jack about whether we should explore the island by sea or land, and both were eager for my opinion. Fritz was frustrated that since their two trips in the canoe, Jack had started thinking of himself as the greatest sailor ever, and they had even nicknamed him Lord of the Waves because he was always saying, “When I was under the waves—when the waves were crashing over me, do you think they left me dry?”

“No, Mr. Sportsman,” said Jack, “you got enough of them, and that’s the reason you don’t wish to try them again. For my part, I love the waves, and I sing, ‘The sea! the sea! it was the sea that brought us here!’”

“No, Mr. Sportsman,” Jack said, “you have enough of them, and that’s why you don’t want to try them again. As for me, I love the waves, and I sing, ‘The sea! the sea! it was the sea that brought us here!’”

“What a boaster you are,” said Fritz: “it was only yesterday you said to me, ‘I will guide you; I know the way by the rocks; I got my buffalo there, and I intend to have another.’ Was it in the pinnace you intended to pass the defile, and pursue buffaloes?”

“What a brag you are,” said Fritz. “Just yesterday you told me, ‘I’ll lead you; I know the route through the rocks; I got my buffalo there, and I plan to get another.’ Were you planning to go through the narrow passage in the small boat and chase buffalo?”

“No, no! I meant on foot,” said Jack; “but I thought we should be only two then. But, as we are four—papa at the helm, and three bold rowers, why should we fatigue ourselves in making the tour of the island on our legs, when we have a good vessel to carry us? What says Mr. Philosopher, the prince of idlers, to it?”

“No, no! I meant by foot,” said Jack; “but I thought we would just be two. But since there are four of us—Dad at the helm and three strong rowers—why should we tire ourselves out walking around the island when we have a nice boat to take us? What does Mr. Philosopher, the king of slackers, think about that?”

“For my part,” said Ernest, quietly, “I am quite indifferent whether I use my legs in walking, or my arms in rowing, it is equally fatiguing; but walking gives me more chance of filling my plant-box and my game-bag.”

“For me,” said Ernest quietly, “I really don’t care whether I use my legs for walking or my arms for rowing; it’s equally exhausting. But walking gives me a better chance to fill my plant box and my game bag.”

“And does he think,” added Fritz, “that the mulberry and bread-fruit trees, which we shall certainly find on the other side, grow on the sea? without naming my gazelle, which does not run over the waves.”

“And does he think,” added Fritz, “that the mulberry and breadfruit trees, which we will definitely find on the other side, grow in the ocean? Not to mention my gazelle, which doesn't run over the waves.”

“No, it is waiting, without moving, for you to shoot it,” said Jack; “and Ernest, perhaps you may find on the sea some of those curious things half plants, half animals, which you were showing me in a book.”

“No, it’s just sitting there, waiting for you to shoot it,” Jack said. “And Ernest, you might find some of those strange things that are half plants and half animals in the sea, like the ones you showed me in that book.”

“The zoophytes, or polypi; for they are the same family, though there are more than a thousand species,” said Ernest, charmed to display his knowledge; but I stopped him by saying: “We will dispense with the thousand names at present. After hearing all your arguments, attend to mine; even Jack must yield to them. Our principal aim now being to search for the trees we are in need of, and to examine the productions of the island, our most sensible plan will be to walk.”

“The zoophytes, or polyps; they’re part of the same family, even though there are over a thousand species,” said Ernest, excited to show off his knowledge; but I interrupted him, saying, “Let’s skip the thousand names for now. After hearing all your points, listen to mine; even Jack has to agree with them. Our main goal right now is to find the trees we need and check out what the island has to offer, so the smartest thing to do is walk.”

Jack still contended that we might land occasionally; but I showed him the danger of this, the island being, in all probability, surrounded by reefs, which might extend so far into the sea as to take us out of the sight of the island; this I intended to ascertain some day; and in the mean time I proposed to them that we should endeavour to find a pass round the rocks on our side, from whence we could walk to the defile at the other end, take our canoe, which we had left at anchor near the Great Bay, and return to Tent House.

Jack still insisted that we might be able to land sometimes; but I pointed out the risk of this, since the island was likely surrounded by reefs that could extend far enough into the sea to hide the island from our view. I planned to figure this out someday; in the meantime, I suggested that we try to find a way around the rocks on our side, from where we could walk to the narrow passage at the other end, grab our canoe, which we had left anchored near the Great Bay, and head back to Tent House.

Jack was in ecstasies; he declared the pass must be very well concealed that escaped his search, and, seizing his lasso and his bow, rushed out the first, singing “The sea! the sea!”

Jack was overjoyed; he claimed that the pass must be really well hidden if it evaded his search. Grabbing his lasso and bow, he dashed outside, singing, “The sea! The sea!”

“There goes a sailor formed by nature,” thought I, as we followed the course of the chain of rocks to the left of our dwelling. It conducted us first to the place of our landing, that little uncultivated plain of triangular form, of which the base was washed by the sea, and the point was lost among the rocks. I found here some traces of our first establishment; but how wretched all appeared, compared with our present comforts! We tried here in vain to find a passage to cross the rocks—the chain was everywhere like an impenetrable wall. We arrived at the ravine Fritz and Ernest had scaled when they discovered their grotto; and, truly, nothing but the courage and rashness of youth could have undertaken this enterprise, and continued it daily for three weeks. It appeared to me almost impossible; Fritz offered to ascend, to show me how they accomplished it; but I would not consent, as it could serve no useful purpose. I thought it better for us to proceed to the border of the island, where it was not impossible there might be a small space on the strand between the rocks and the sea, round which we could pass; from my sons being able to distinguish from the summit the country on the other side, it was evident the chain of rocks could not be very broad. Suddenly Fritz struck his forehead, and, seizing Ernest by the arm—“Brother,” said he, “what fools we have been!”

“There goes a sailor made by nature,” I thought as we followed the line of rocks to the left of our home. It led us first to our landing spot, that small untouched triangular plain, with its base washed by the sea and its point lost among the rocks. Here, I found some remnants of our first settlement; but everything looked so miserable compared to our current comforts! We tried in vain to find a way to cross the rocks—the chain was like an impenetrable wall everywhere. We reached the ravine that Fritz and Ernest had climbed when they discovered their grotto; truly, only the courage and recklessness of youth could have taken on this task and continued it for three weeks straight. It seemed nearly impossible to me; Fritz offered to climb up and show me how they did it, but I refused since it wouldn't be helpful. I thought it better for us to move toward the edge of the island, where there might be a small stretch of beach between the rocks and the sea that we could navigate; from what my sons could see from the top, it was clear that the chain of rocks couldn't be very wide. Suddenly, Fritz hit his forehead and grabbed Ernest by the arm—“Brother,” he said, “what fools we have been!”

Ernest inquired what folly they had been guilty of.

Ernest asked what foolishness they had committed.

“Why did we not,” said Fritz, “when we were working within our grotto, attempt to make the opening on the other side? We should not have had much difficulty, I am persuaded, and if our tools had not been sufficient, a little powder would have opened us a door on the other side. Only consider, father, the convenience of bringing the cart loaded with the trees we wanted through our grotto, and to be able to go a-hunting without having I don’t know how many miles to go.”

“Why didn’t we,” said Fritz, “when we were working in our grotto, try to create an opening on the other side? I’m sure we wouldn’t have had much trouble, and if our tools weren’t enough, a bit of powder would have opened a door on the other side. Just think about it, father, how convenient it would have been to bring the cart loaded with the trees we needed through our grotto, and to be able to go hunting without having to travel so many miles.”

“Well, we can still do that,” said Ernest, in his usual calm, grave manner; “if we do not find another passage, we will make one through the Grotto Ernestine, with mamma’s permission, as it is her property.”

“Well, we can still do that,” said Ernest, in his usual calm, serious way; “if we don’t find another way, we’ll create one through the Grotto Ernestine, with Mom’s permission, since it’s her property.”

This idea of my son appeared good. It was quite certain, from our experience at Tent House and in the grotto, that the cavity in the rocks was of very great extent, and it did not appear difficult to pierce through to the other side; but some other chain of rocks, some gigantic tree, some hill, at the end of our tunnel, might render all our labour useless. I proposed that we should defer our work till we had examined the nature of the ground on the other side; my sons agreed, and we proceeded with renewed courage, when we were suddenly checked by the sight of the sea beating against a perpendicular rock of terrific height, which terminated our island on this side, and did not give us a chance of going on. I saw the rock did not extend far; but how to get round it, I could not devise. I did not conceive we could get the pinnace round, as the coast seemed surrounded by reefs; masses of rock stood up in the sea, and the breakers showed that more were hidden. After much consideration and many plans, Ernest proposed that we should swim out to the uncovered rocks, and endeavour to pass round. Fritz objected, on account of his arms and ammunition; but Ernest suggested that the powder should be secured in the pockets of his clothes, which he might carry on his head, holding his gun above the water.

This idea from my son seemed good. From our experience at Tent House and in the grotto, it was clear that the cavity in the rocks was quite extensive, and it didn’t seem too hard to tunnel through to the other side. However, we might encounter another chain of rocks, a massive tree, or a hill that could make all our effort pointless. I suggested we hold off on our work until we examined the ground on the other side; my sons agreed, and we moved forward with renewed determination. But then we were suddenly stopped by the sight of the sea crashing against a sheer rock face that loomed high, marking the end of our island on this side and blocking our path. I noticed that the rock didn’t extend very far, but I couldn’t figure out how to go around it. I didn’t think we could get the small boat around since the coast seemed to be surrounded by reefs; jagged rock formations jutted out of the water, and the foam indicated that more were submerged. After a lot of thought and several plans, Ernest suggested we swim out to the exposed rocks and try to go around. Fritz disagreed because of his arms and ammunition, but Ernest proposed that we secure the powder in the pockets of his clothes, which he could carry on his head, holding his gun above the water.

With some difficulty we arranged our incumbrances, and succeeded in reaching the range of outer rocks, without swimming, as the water was not above our shoulders. We rested here awhile, and, putting on some of our clothes, we commenced our walk over sharp stones, which wounded our feet. In many places, where the rocks lay low, we were up to the waist in the water. Ernest, the proposer of the plan, encouraged us, and led the way for some time; but at last he fell behind, and remained so long, that I became alarmed, and calling aloud, for I had lost sight of him, he answered me, and at last I discovered him stretched on the rock, endeavouring to separate a piece from it with his knife.

With some effort, we got our stuff sorted out and managed to reach the outer rocks without having to swim, since the water wasn’t deeper than our shoulders. We took a break here, and after putting on some of our clothes, we started walking over the sharp stones, which hurt our feet. In many spots where the rocks were low, the water was up to our waists. Ernest, who had suggested the plan, encouraged us and led the way for a while; but eventually, he fell behind and took so long that I got worried. Calling out since I had lost sight of him, he replied, and I finally spotted him lying on the rock, trying to pry a piece off with his knife.

“Father,” said he, “I am now certain that this bed of rocks, over which we are walking, and which we fancied was formed of stone or flints, is nothing but the work of those remarkable zoophytes, called coral insects, which form coral and many other extraordinary things; they can even make whole islands. Look at these little points and hollows, and these stars of every colour and every form; I would give all the world to have a specimen of each kind.”

“Dad,” he said, “I’m now sure that this bed of rocks we’re walking on, which we thought was made of stone or flints, is really just the work of those amazing zoophytes called coral insects that create coral and many other incredible things; they can even create entire islands. Check out these little points and hollows, and these stars in every color and shape; I’d give anything to have a sample of each kind.”

He succeeded in breaking off a piece, which was of a deep orange-colour inside; he collected also, and deposited in his bag, some other pieces, of various forms and colours. These greatly enriched his collection; and, idle as he was, he did not complain of any difficulty in obtaining them. He had given his gun to Jack, who complained much of the ruggedness of our road. Our march was truly painful, and I repented more than once of having yielded to the idea; besides the misery of walking along these shelly rocks, which presented points like the sharp teeth of a saw, tearing our shoes and even our skin, the sea, in some of the lower places, was so high as to bar our passage, and we were obliged, in the interval between two waves, to rush across, with the water to our chins. We had some difficulty to avoid being carried away. I trembled especially for Jack; though small and light, he preferred facing the wave to avoiding it. I was several times obliged to catch hold of him, and narrowly escaped destruction along with him. Happily, our march was not above half a mile, and we gained the shore at last without any serious accident, but much fatigued and foot-sore; and we made a resolution never more to cross the coral reefs.

He managed to break off a piece that was a deep orange color on the inside. He also collected and tucked away some other pieces in his bag, which came in various shapes and colors. These really added to his collection, and despite being idle, he didn’t complain about having any trouble gathering them. He had given his gun to Jack, who often grumbled about how rough our path was. Our journey was truly painful, and I regretted more than once having gone along with the idea. Besides the misery of walking over these jagged rocks, which felt like the sharp teeth of a saw, tearing up our shoes and even our skin, the sea was so high in some lower spots that it blocked our way, forcing us to rush across when the waves receded, the water up to our chins. We struggled to avoid being swept away. I especially worried about Jack; even though he was small and light, he preferred to face the waves rather than dodge them. I had to grab him several times, narrowly escaping disaster with him. Thankfully, our trek wasn’t longer than half a mile, and we finally reached the shore without any serious accidents, but we were exhausted and our feet were sore; we resolved never to cross the coral reefs again.

After dressing ourselves, resting, and taking a slight refreshment on the beach, we resumed our march more at our ease into the interior of the island; but though the long grass was not so sharp as the coral, it was almost as troublesome, twisting round our legs, and threatening to throw us down every step we took. Ernest, loaded with his bag of fragments of rock, coral, and zoophytes, had given his gun to Jack; and, fearing an accident among the long grass, I thought it prudent to discharge it. In order to profit by it, I fired at a little quadruped, about the size of a squirrel, and killed it. It appeared to me to be the animal called by naturalists the palm-squirrel, because it climbs the cocoa and date-palms, hooks itself by its tail, which is very long and flexible, to the upper branches, and feeds at pleasure on the fruit, of which it is very fond. We amused ourselves by details of the habits of this animal, occasionally separating to make more discoveries, but agreeing on a particular call, which was to assemble us when necessary,—a precaution by no means useless, as it turned out.

After getting dressed, resting, and having a little snack on the beach, we continued our walk more comfortably into the island's interior. Although the long grass wasn't as sharp as the coral, it was still quite annoying, wrapping around our legs and almost making us stumble with every step. Ernest, carrying his bag of rock and coral fragments, handed his gun to Jack. Worried about an accident in the tall grass, I decided it would be wise to fire it off. I aimed at a small creature about the size of a squirrel and shot it. It seemed to be what naturalists call the palm-squirrel, as it climbs cocoa and date palms, hooking itself to the upper branches with its long, flexible tail, and munches on the fruit it loves so much. We passed the time discussing the habits of this animal, sometimes splitting up to find more things, but we all agreed on a specific call to bring us back together when needed—a precaution that proved useful, as it turned out.

Fritz, with his head raised, went on examining all the trees, and occasionally giving a keen look after his gazelle. Ernest, stooping down, examined plants, insects, and, occasionally pursuing rare and beautiful butterflies, was filling his bag and plant-box with various curiosities. Jack, with his lasso in his hand, prepared himself to fling it round the legs of the first buffalo he met with, and was vexed that he did not see any. For my own part, I was engaged in surveying the chain of rocks, in order to discover that which contained the Grotto Ernestine. It was easy to recognize it, from its summit cleft in two; and I wished to ascertain, as nearly as possible, if the cleft extended to the base of the rock, as this would render our work much easier. This side of the island did not resemble that near the Great Bay, with which Jack and I had been so much charmed. The island was much narrower here, and instead of the wide plain, crossed by a river, divided by delightful woods, giving an idea of paradise on earth; we were journeying through a contracted valley, lying between the rocky wall which divided the island, and a chain of sandy hills, which hid the sea and sheltered the valley from the wind. Fritz and I ascended one of these hills, on which a few pines and broom were growing, and perceived beyond them a barren tract, stretching to the sea, where the coral reefs rose to the level of the water, and appeared to extend far into the sea. Any navigators, sailing along these shores, would pronounce the island inaccessible and entirely barren. This is not the fact; the grass is very thick, and the trees of noble growth; we found many unknown to us, some loaded with fruit; also, several beautiful shrubs covered with flowers; the dwarf orange-tree, the elegant melaleuca, the nutmeg-tree, and the Bengal rose blending its flowers with the fragrant jasmine. I should never finish, if I were to try and name all the plants found in this shady valley, which might be called the botanic garden of Nature. Ernest was in ecstasies; he wished to carry away everything, but he did not know how to dispose of them.

Fritz, with his head held high, continued to check out all the trees, occasionally glancing around for his gazelle. Ernest, crouching down, examined plants and insects, and from time to time chased after rare and beautiful butterflies, filling his bag and plant box with all sorts of curiosities. Jack, lasso in hand, got ready to throw it around the legs of the first buffalo he saw, feeling frustrated that he wasn’t spotting any. As for me, I was busy surveying the chain of rocks to find the one that contained the Grotto Ernestine. It was easy to recognize it by its summit that was split in two, and I wanted to find out as closely as possible if the split extended to the base of the rock, as this would make our work much easier. This side of the island didn’t look like the area near the Great Bay that Jack and I had loved so much. The island was much narrower here, and instead of a wide plain crossed by a river and divided by beautiful woods that felt like paradise on earth, we were traveling through a narrow valley between the rocky wall that separated the island and a chain of sandy hills that blocked the sea and protected the valley from the wind. Fritz and I climbed one of these hills, where a few pines and broom were growing, and saw beyond them a barren stretch that reached the sea, where the coral reefs emerged just above the water and seemed to extend far into the ocean. Any sailors passing by these shores would say the island was inaccessible and completely barren. But that’s not true; the grass was thick, and the trees were tall and grand; we found many we didn’t recognize, some heavy with fruit, as well as several beautiful shrubs laden with flowers, like the dwarf orange tree, the graceful melaleuca, the nutmeg tree, and the Bengal rose blending its blossoms with fragrant jasmine. I wouldn't be able to list all the plants found in this shaded valley, which could be called Nature's botanical garden. Ernest was ecstatic; he wanted to take everything with him, but he had no idea how to carry it all.

“Ah!” said he, “if only our grotto were open to this side!”

“Ah!” he said, “if only our cave were open on this side!”

At this moment Fritz came running out of breath, crying out, “The bread-fruit tree! I have found the bread-fruit tree! Here is the fruit,—excellent, delicious bread. Taste it, father; here, Ernest; here, Jack;” and he gave us each a part of an oval fruit, about the size of an ordinary melon, which really seemed very good and nourishing.

At that moment, Fritz came running, out of breath, shouting, “The breadfruit tree! I found the breadfruit tree! Here’s the fruit—it's excellent, delicious bread. Taste it, Dad; here, Ernest; here, Jack;” and he handed each of us a piece of an oval fruit, about the size of a regular melon, which actually looked really good and filling.

“There are many of these trees,” continued he, “loaded with fruit. Would that we had our grotto opened, that we might collect a store of them, now that they are ripe.”

“There are a lot of these trees,” he continued, “filled with fruit. I wish we had our cave opened so we could gather a bunch of them now that they’re ripe.”

My boys pointed out to me exactly the situation of the grotto, judging from the rock above, and longed for their tools, that they might commence the opening directly. We proceeded to make our way through a border of trees and bushes, that separated us from the rock, that we might examine it, and judge of the difficulties of our undertaking. Jack preceded us, as usual, after giving Ernest his gun; Fritz followed him, and suddenly turning to me, said,—

My boys pointed out the exact location of the grotto based on the rock above and wished they had their tools so they could start digging right away. We made our way through a line of trees and bushes that separated us from the rock to take a closer look and assess the challenges of what we were about to do. Jack led the way as usual, after handing his gun to Ernest; Fritz followed him and suddenly turned to me, saying,—

“I believe kind Nature has saved us much trouble; the rock appears to be divided from top to bottom; at the foot I see a sort of cave, or grotto, already made.”

“I believe kind Nature has saved us a lot of trouble; the rock seems to be split from top to bottom; at the bottom, I see a kind of cave or grotto that’s already formed.”


“We saw at the entrance of the cave two large brown bears.”


“We saw two big brown bears at the entrance of the cave.”

At this moment Jack uttered a piercing cry, and came running to us, his lasso in his hand: “Two monstrous beasts!” cried he. “Help! help!” We rushed forward, our guns ready, and saw at the entrance of the cave two large brown bears. The black bear, whose fur is most valued, is only found in cold and mountainous countries; but the brown prefers the south. It is a carnivorous animal, considered very ferocious. The black bear lives only on vegetables and honey. Of these, the one I judged to be the female seemed much irritated, uttering deep growls, and furiously gnashing her teeth. As I knew something of these animals, having met with them on the Alps, I remembered having heard that a sharp whistling terrifies and checks them. I therefore whistled as long and loudly as I could, and immediately saw the female retire backwards into the cave, while the male, raising himself on his hind legs, stood quite still, with his paws closed. My two elder sons fired into his breast: he fell down, but being only wounded, turned furiously on us. I fired a third shot at him, and finished him. We then hastened to load our guns again, to be ready to receive his companion. Jack wished to use his lasso; but I explained to him that the legs of the bear were too short and thick for such a measure to be successful. He related to us, that having entered the cave, he saw something moving at the bottom; he took up a stone, and threw it with all his strength at the object; immediately he heard a frightful growling, and saw two large beasts coming towards him; he had barely time to escape and call for help, and then to hide himself behind a tree. To save ourselves from the other bear, it was necessary that we should take some prompt measures; we therefore advanced, and formed a line of battle before the entrance of the cave, I then gave the word—Fire! and we all three fired off our pieces at the same moment. A ferocious roar made us hope the bullets had taken effect but to make sure, and to prevent the escape of the animal if it was still living, we gathered a large heap of dried branches and leaves before the opening, to which I set fire. As soon as it blazed, we saw by the light the bear laid motionless on its side, but it is well known that this animal is crafty enough sometimes to feign itself dead till its enemy approaches near enough to be in its power, when it seizes him in its enormous paws and strangles him. We took a lighted branch, and approached with great precaution. The cave did not extend far; the animal was lying on a heap of dried leaves prepared for its young ones. I ascertained that it was really dead. I then, with the assistance of my sons, drew it out of the cave which was too dark for work, and I wished to secure the rich and beautiful skins which might be useful to us in winter. We set to work, and, as the animals were still warm, we succeeded more easily than I could have expected, but the skins were so heavy it was almost impossible to remove them. We therefore left them in the cave, the bottom of which was sandy, closing the entrance with boughs that no animal might enter to devour them, and abandoned the two bodies, only regretting the abundance of fat which would have been useful for many domestic purposes.

At that moment, Jack let out a loud scream and ran over to us, his lasso in hand. “Two huge beasts!” he shouted. “Help! Help!” We rushed forward, our guns ready, and saw two large brown bears at the entrance of the cave. The black bear, known for its prized fur, is only found in cold, mountainous areas, but the brown bear prefers warmer regions. The brown bear is a meat-eater and is considered very aggressive, while the black bear mainly eats plants and honey. The bear I guessed was the female seemed really upset, growling deeply and angrily gnashing her teeth. Since I knew a bit about these animals from my encounters in the Alps, I remembered hearing that loud whistling can scare them off. So, I whistled as loudly as I could, and the female immediately backed into the cave, while the male stood up on his hind legs, frozen with his paws together. My two older sons shot at his chest; he fell but was only wounded and turned angrily toward us. I fired a third shot and finished him off. We quickly reloaded our guns, getting ready for the other bear. Jack wanted to use his lasso, but I explained that the bear's legs were too short and thick for that to work. He told us that when he had entered the cave, he saw something moving at the back, picked up a stone, and threw it with all his might at it; that’s when he heard a terrifying growl and saw the two massive bears coming at him. He barely had time to run for help and hide behind a tree. To protect ourselves from the other bear, we needed to act fast; we moved forward and formed a line of defense at the cave's entrance. I then gave the command—Fire! We all fired our guns at the same time. A savage roar made us believe our shots had hit their mark, but to be sure and to prevent the animal from escaping if it was still alive, we gathered a big pile of dry branches and leaves at the entrance and set it on fire. Once it blazed up, we could see the bear lying motionless on its side, but it’s well-known that this animal can be cunning enough to pretend to be dead until its enemy gets close enough for it to attack. We took a lit branch and approached very carefully. The cave didn’t go back far; the bear was lying on a pile of dried leaves prepared for its young. I confirmed that it was really dead. Then, with my sons' help, I pulled it out of the cave, which was too dark to work in, as I wanted to save the rich, beautiful skins that would be useful to us in winter. We got to work, and since the animals were still warm, it was easier than I expected, but the skins were so heavy they were almost impossible to move. So, we left them in the cave, which had a sandy floor, and blocked the entrance with branches to keep other animals from getting in and eating them, leaving the two bodies behind, only wishing we could have saved the fat that would have been useful for many household things.


CHAPTER XLV.

We resumed our search, thanking God for our preservation from this danger, in which my dear Jack at any rate, might have perished. As a proof and trophy of our adventure, we cut off the fore paws of the animal, to carry to my wife. It is said that these form a very delicious dish, fit for the table of a king. The valley now began to expand, and presented a more varied appearance. It was intersected with beautiful plains or savannas, of which the grass had evidently been eaten, and with more extensive woods, through which we had great difficulty in forcing a passage; so thick and entangled were the lianas and underwood. We succeeded in passing them by keeping at the borders, where we also felt in greater safety from the wild beasts and reptiles, of which we saw many species that had their abode at the foot of the rocks. Besides the fatigue of our journey, we were tormented with thirst, never having seen any water since we left the sea. The soil was so moist, that I was of opinion we might have found water by digging; but having been compelled to leave our spades when we came along the reef, we had no tools suitable for the purpose. We were also impatient to wash ourselves after the butchery of the bears, when, to our great satisfaction, we heard the murmur of waters, which I concluded was the river Jack and I had seen in our former expedition. He had frequently inquired about it, and we had foolishly thought it had extended along the whole valley, which could not be. It was a gentle stream, gushing from a perpendicular rock, which reminded me of the source of the river Orbe, in the Canton of Vaud; it issued forth in its full width, rolling at first over a rocky bed; then forming a graceful bend, it took its course towards the great bay, and fell in a cascade into the sea. We remained some time here to fill our gourds, drinking moderately, and taking a bath, which refreshed us all greatly.

We continued our search, thanking God for keeping us safe from danger, where my dear Jack could have easily lost his life. As proof and a memento of our adventure, we cut off the animal's front paws to bring back to my wife. It's said that they make a delicious dish, fit for a king's table. The valley started to widen and looked more diverse. It was dotted with beautiful plains or savannas, where the grass had clearly been eaten, and more extensive woods that made it tough to get through; the vines and underbrush were so thick and tangled. We managed to get past them by sticking to the edges, feeling safer from the wild animals and reptiles, many of which we spotted at the base of the rocks. On top of the fatigue from our journey, we were tormented by thirst, having not seen any water since we left the sea. The soil was quite moist, and I thought we might find water by digging; however, we had to leave our shovels behind when we came along the reef, so we had no suitable tools. We were also eager to wash off after butchering the bears when, to our great relief, we heard the sound of running water, which I figured was the river Jack and I had seen during our previous trip. He had often asked about it, and we had foolishly assumed it ran the entire length of the valley, which wasn't possible. It was a gentle stream flowing from a vertical rock, reminiscent of the source of the river Orbe in the Canton of Vaud; it came out at full width, initially cascading over a rocky bed, then making a graceful turn before heading toward the big bay and tumbling down into the sea. We stayed here for a while to fill our gourds, drinking moderately and taking a bath, which refreshed us all greatly.

The evening was approaching, and we began to fear we should not reach home before night. I had warned my wife that there was a possibility that we might be delayed, though I could not then anticipate the cause of our delay. We endeavoured, however, by walking as quickly as we could, and resting no more, to reach our farm at any rate. We followed the course of the river, on the opposite shore of which rose a wide plain, where we saw the herd of buffaloes quietly grazing, ruminating, and drinking, without paying the slightest attention to us. We thought we distinguished some other quadrupeds amongst them, which Fritz was certain were zebras or onagras; but certainly not his dear gazelle, for which he had incessantly looked round. Jack was in despair that the river separated us from the buffaloes, so that he could not cast his lasso round the legs of one of them, as he had promised Ernest. He even wished to swim across the stream, to have a hunt; but I forbade him, encouraging him to hope that perhaps a single buffalo might cross to our side, and throw itself in the way of his lasso. I was far from wishing such a thing myself, for we had no time to lose, nor any means to secure and lead it home, should we succeed in capturing one, not having any cords with us; and moreover, intending to return from the bay in the canoe. When we arrived at the bay, the night, which comes on rapidly in equinoctial countries, had almost closed. We were scarcely able to see, without terror, the changes that the late storm had occasioned; the narrow pass which led from the other side of the island, between the river and a deep stream that flowed from the rocks, was entirely obstructed with rocks and earth fallen upon it; and to render our passage practicable, it was necessary to undertake a labour that the darkness now prevented, and which would at any time be attended by danger. We were obliged then to spend the night in the open air, and separated from our dear and anxious friends at Tent House. Fortunately, Fritz had collected a store of bread-fruit for his mother, with which he had filled his own pockets and those of his brothers. These, with water from the river, formed our supper; for we had nothing but the bone of our leg of mutton left. We turned back a little way, to establish ourselves under a clump of trees, where we were in greater safety; we loaded our muskets, we kindled a large fire of dry branches, and recommending ourselves to the protection of God, we lay ourselves down on the soft moss to wait for the first rays of light. With the exception of Jack, who from the first slept as if he had been in his bed, we none of us could rest. The night was beautiful; a multitude of stars shone over our heads in the ethereal vault. Ernest was never tired of gazing on them. After some questions and suppositions on the plurality of worlds, their courses and their distances, he quitted us to wander on the borders of the river, which reflected them in all their brilliancy. From this night his passion for astronomy commenced, a passion which he carried beyond all others. This became his favourite and continual study, nor did he fall far short of Duval, whose history he had read. Whilst he was engaged in contemplation, Fritz and I conversed on our projects for tunnelling to the grotto, and on the utility of such a passage, as this side of the island was quite lost to us, from the difficulty in reaching it. “And yet,” said I, “it is to this difficulty we owe the safety we have enjoyed. Who can say that the bears and the buffaloes may not find the way through the grotto? I confess I am not desirous of their visits, nor even of those of the onagras. Who knows but they might persuade your favourite Lightfoot to return and live amongst them? Liberty has many charms. Till now, we have been very happy on our side of the island, without the productions of this. My dear boy, there is a proverb, ‘Let well alone,’ Let us not have too much ambition,—it has ruined greater states than ours.”

The evening was drawing near, and we started to worry we wouldn’t get home before dark. I had warned my wife that we might be delayed, even though I couldn’t predict the reason for the hold-up at the time. Nevertheless, we tried to walk as quickly as we could, stopping as little as possible, to reach our farm. We followed the riverbank, opposite which lay a wide plain where we saw a herd of buffalo grazing, chewing their cud, and drinking, completely ignoring us. We thought we spotted some other animals among them that Fritz believed were zebras or onagras; but definitely not his beloved gazelle, which he had been searching for constantly. Jack was upset that the river kept him from lassoing one of the buffaloes, as he had promised Ernest. He even wanted to swim across the river to hunt, but I told him no, encouraging him to hope that maybe a single buffalo would come over to our side and get close enough for him to throw his lasso. I didn't really want that to happen myself, since we didn’t have time to waste or any way to secure and lead one home if we actually caught it, as we had no ropes with us and planned to return from the bay in the canoe. By the time we reached the bay, night, which comes quickly in equatorial regions, was almost upon us. We could barely make out the changes the recent storm had caused without being terrified; the narrow passage from the other side of the island, between the river and a deep stream flowing from the rocks, was completely blocked with fallen rocks and dirt. To make the passage usable, we would need to undertake a task that the dark now made impossible, and which would always carry some risk. So, we had to spend the night outdoors, separated from our dear and worried friends at Tent House. Fortunately, Fritz had gathered some breadfruit for his mother, filling his own pockets and those of his brothers. This, along with some water from the river, made up our dinner since all we had left was the bone from our leg of mutton. We turned back a short distance to settle beneath a group of trees where we would be safer; we loaded our muskets, built a large fire from dry branches, and, placing ourselves under God's protection, lay down on the soft moss to wait for the first light of dawn. Except for Jack, who instantly fell asleep as if he were in his bed, none of us could relax. The night was beautiful; a multitude of stars twinkled above us in the vast sky. Ernest couldn’t get enough of looking at them. After some discussions and theories about the number of worlds, their movements, and their distances, he left us to wander along the riverbank, which mirrored their brilliance. That night marked the beginning of his passion for astronomy, a passion he pursued more than any other. This became his favorite and ongoing study, and he didn't fall far short of Duval, whose story he had read. While he was lost in thought, Fritz and I talked about our plans for tunneling to the grotto and the usefulness of such a passage, since the other side of the island was practically inaccessible to us. “And yet,” I said, “it’s this difficulty that has kept us safe. Who’s to say that bears and buffaloes might not find their way through the grotto? I admit I'm not keen on their visits, nor even those of the onagras. Who knows? They might persuade your favorite Lightfoot to return and settle with them. Freedom has its attractions. So far, we’ve been quite happy on our side of the island, without the things from this side. My dear boy, there’s a saying: ‘Let well alone.’ Let's not be too ambitious—it has brought down larger states than ours.”

Fritz seemed grieved to give up his plan, and suggested that he could forge some strong bars of iron to place before the opening, which could be removed at will.

Fritz looked upset about giving up his plan and suggested that he could create some strong iron bars to put in front of the opening, which could be removed whenever needed.

“But,” said I, “they will not prevent the snakes from passing underneath. I have noticed some with terror, as they are animals I have a great antipathy to; and if your mother saw one crawl into her grotto, she would never enter it again; even if she did not die of fright.”

“But,” I said, “they won’t stop the snakes from getting through. I’ve seen some with dread, since I really can’t stand them; and if your mother saw one slither into her cave, she would never go back in there again; even if she didn’t die of fright.”

“Well, we must give it up,” said Fritz; “but it is a pity. Do you think, father, there are more bears in the island than those we killed?”

“Well, we have to let it go,” said Fritz; “but it's a shame. Do you think, Dad, there are more bears on the island than the ones we killed?”

“In all probability,” said I; “it is scarcely to be supposed that there should only be two. I cannot well account for their being here. They can swim very well, and perhaps the abundance of fruit in this part of the island may have attracted them.” I then gave my son a short account of their manners and habits, from the best works on the history of these animals.

“In all likelihood,” I said; “it’s hard to believe there are only two. I can’t really explain why they’re here. They swim really well, and maybe the plenty of fruit in this part of the island has drawn them in.” I then gave my son a brief overview of their behavior and habits based on the best studies about these animals.


CHAPTER XLVI.

Whilst we continued to talk and to admire the beauty of the stars, they at length began to fade away before the first light of morning. Ernest returned to us, and we awoke Jack, who had slept uninterruptedly, and was quite unconscious where he was. We returned to the pass, which now, by the light of day, seemed to us in a more hopeless state than in the dusk of evening. I was struck with consternation: it appeared to me that we were entirely enclosed at this side; and I shuddered to think of crossing the island again, to pass round at the other end, of the risk we should run of meeting wild beasts, and of the painful and perilous passage along the coral reefs. At that moment I would gladly have consented to open a passage through the grotto, at the hazard of any visitors, in order to get through myself, that I might relieve the anxious feelings of my dear wife and boy. The thoughts of their agony unnerved me, and took away all courage for the commencement of a labour which seemed impossible, our only utensils being a small saw, and a little dibble for taking up plants, which Ernest had been unwilling to leave behind us. The path by which Jack and I had passed was covered with rocks and masses of soil, which obstructed even the course of the stream; we could not discover the place we had forded, the river had opened itself a wider course, far beyond its former one.

As we kept talking and admiring the beauty of the stars, they eventually started to fade with the first light of morning. Ernest came back to us, and we woke up Jack, who had been sleeping soundly and had no idea where he was. We returned to the pass, which, in the daylight, looked even more hopeless than it had the night before. I was filled with dread; it seemed to me that we were completely trapped on this side. I shuddered at the thought of crossing the island again to go around to the other side, considering the risk of encountering wild animals and the difficult, dangerous passage along the coral reefs. At that moment, I would have gladly agreed to create an opening through the grotto, no matter the risk to anyone else, just to find a way through and ease the anxious feelings of my dear wife and son. The thought of their distress weakened me and stole all my courage for what felt like an impossible task, especially since our only tools were a small saw and a little dibble for planting that Ernest had been reluctant to leave behind. The path Jack and I had taken was blocked with rocks and piles of dirt, obstructing even the flow of the stream; we couldn’t find the spot where we had crossed, as the river had carved out a much wider channel than before.

“It is impossible,” said Fritz, gazing on the ruins, “that we can remove all these immense stones without proper tools; but, perhaps, with a little courage, we may cross over them, the rivulet being widened cannot be very deep. At all events, it cannot be worse than the coral reefs.”

“It’s impossible,” said Fritz, looking at the ruins, “that we can move all these huge stones without the right tools; but maybe, with a bit of courage, we can get across them. The stream has widened, so it can’t be too deep. Anyway, it can’t be worse than the coral reefs.”

“Let us try; but I fear it will be impossible, at least for him,” said I, pointing to Jack.

“Let’s give it a shot; but I’m worried it will be impossible, at least for him,” I said, pointing to Jack.

Him, indeed, papa, and why not?” said the bold fellow; “he is perhaps as strong, and more active, than some of them; ask Fritz what he thinks of his workman. Shall I go the first to show you the way?”

Him, sure, dad, and why not?” said the brave guy; “he might be as strong, and even more energetic, than some of them; ask Fritz what he thinks of his worker. Should I be the first to show you the way?”

And he was advancing boldly, but I checked him, and said, that before we undertook to scale these masses of rock, absolutely bare, where we had nothing to support us, or to hold by, it would be as well to examine if, by descending lower, we could not find a less dangerous road. We descended to the narrow pass, and found our drawbridge, plantation, all our fortification that my boys were so proud of, and where, at Fritz’s request, I had even planted a small cannon, all, all destroyed; the cannon swallowed up with the rest. My boys deplored their disappointment; but I showed them how useless such a defence must ever be. Nature had provided us with a better fortification than we could construct, as we just now bitterly experienced.

He was moving forward confidently, but I stopped him and suggested that before we tried to climb those massive, bare rocks where we had nothing to hold onto, we should check if there was a safer route by going lower. We went down to the narrow pass and found our drawbridge and plantation—all our defenses that my boys were so proud of—were completely destroyed, including the small cannon I had planted at Fritz’s request. My boys were disappointed, but I explained to them how pointless that kind of defense would always be. Nature had given us a better fortification than we could ever build, as we were just learning in a harsh way.

We had descended several yards lower with incredible difficulty, plunged in a wet, heavy soil, and obliged to step across immense stones, when Fritz, who went first, cried out, joyfully—

We had descended several yards lower with incredible difficulty, sinking into a wet, heavy soil, and having to step over massive stones when Fritz, who was in the lead, shouted out joyfully—

“The roof, papa! the roof of our chalet! it is quite whole; it will be a bridge for us if we can only get to it.”

“The roof, Dad! The roof of our chalet! It’s completely intact; it will be a bridge for us if we can just reach it.”

“What roof? What chalet?” said I, in astonishment.

“What roof? What chalet?” I said, shocked.

“The roof of our little hermitage,” said he, “which we had covered so well with stones, like the Swiss chalets.”

“The roof of our little cabin,” he said, “which we covered so well with stones, like the Swiss chalets.”

I then recollected that I had made this little hut, after the fashion of the Swiss chalet, of bark, with a roof nearly flat and covered with stones, to secure it against the winds. It was this circumstance, and its situation, that had saved it in the storm. I had placed it opposite the cascade, that we might see the fall in all its beauty, and, consequently, a little on one side of the passage filled up by the fall of the rocks. Some fragments reached the roof of the hut, and we certainly could not have entered it; but the chalet was supported by this means, and the roof was still standing and perfectly secure. We contrived to slide along the rock which sustained it; Jack was the first to stand on the roof and sing victory. It was very easy to descend on the other side, holding by the poles and pieces of bark, and we soon found ourselves safe in our own island. Ernest had lost his gun in the passage: not being willing to resign his bag of curiosities, he had dropped the gun into the abyss.

I then remembered that I had built this little hut, styled like a Swiss chalet, using bark, with a nearly flat roof covered in stones to protect it from the winds. It was this fact, along with its location, that had saved it during the storm. I had positioned it across from the waterfall so we could enjoy its beauty, and therefore, a little to the side of the passage blocked by falling rocks. Some debris hit the roof of the hut, and we definitely couldn’t have entered it; but the chalet was supported by these means, and the roof was still intact and completely secure. We managed to slide along the rock that propped it up; Jack was the first to stand on the roof and shout "victory!" It was very easy to climb down the other side, holding onto the poles and pieces of bark, and we soon found ourselves safe on our own island. Ernest had lost his gun in the passage: unwilling to let go of his bag of curiosities, he had dropped the gun into the abyss.

“You may take the gun I left in the canoe,” said Fritz; “but, another time, throw away your stones, and keep your gun—you will find it a good friend in need.”

“You can take the gun I left in the canoe,” said Fritz; “but next time, ditch your stones and hold onto your gun—you'll find it to be a great ally when you need it.”

“Let us embark in our canoe,” cried Jack. “The sea! the sea! Long live the waves! they are not so hard as the stones.”

“Let’s get in our canoe,” shouted Jack. “The ocean! The ocean! Long live the waves! They’re not as tough as the rocks.”

I was very glad to have the opportunity of conveying my canoe back to the port of Tent House; our important occupations had prevented me till now, and everything favoured the plan: the sea was calm, the wind favourable, and we should arrive at home sooner, and with less fatigue, than by land. We skirted the great Bay to the Cabbage-palm Wood. I had moored the canoe so firmly to one of the palms, that I felt secure of it being there. We arrived at the place, and no canoe was there! The mark of the cord which fastened it was still to be seen round the tree, but the canoe had entirely disappeared. Struck with astonishment, we looked at each other with terror, and without being able to articulate a word. What was become of it?

I was really happy to finally have the chance to take my canoe back to the Tent House port; our important tasks had kept me from it until now, and everything was perfect for the plan: the sea was calm, the wind was in our favor, and we would get home sooner and with less effort than by land. We made our way around the big Bay to the Cabbage-palm Wood. I had tied the canoe securely to one of the palms, so I felt confident it would be there. We arrived at the spot, and there was no canoe! The mark from the rope that had secured it was still visible around the tree, but the canoe was completely gone. Shocked, we exchanged terrified glances, unable to say a word. Where had it gone?

“Some animal,—the jackals; a monkey, perhaps,—might have detached it,” said Jack; “but they could not have eaten the canoe.” And we could not find a trace of it, any more than of the gun Fritz had left in it.

“Some animal—the jackals, maybe—a monkey, perhaps—might have taken it,” said Jack; “but they couldn’t have eaten the canoe.” And we couldn’t find any trace of it, any more than the gun Fritz had left in it.

This extraordinary circumstance gave me a great deal of thought. Savages, surely, had landed on our island, and carried off our canoe. We could no longer doubt it when we discovered on the sands the print of naked feet! It is easy to believe how uneasy and agitated I was. I hastened to take the road to Tent House, from which we were now more than three leagues distant. I forbade my sons to mention this event, or our suspicions, to their mother, as I knew it would rob her of all peace of mind. I tried to console myself. It was possible that chance had conducted them to the Bay, that they had seen our pretty canoe, and that, satisfied with their prize, and seeing no inhabitants, they might not return. Perhaps, on the contrary, these islanders might prove kind and humane, and become our friends. There was no trace of their proceedings further than the shore. We called at The Farm, on purpose to examine. All appeared in order; and certainly, if they had reached here, there was much to tempt them: our cotton mattresses, our osier seats, and some household utensils that my wife had left here. Our geese and fowls did not appear to have been alarmed, but were pecking about as usual for worms and insects. I began to hope that we might get off with the loss of our canoe,—a loss which might be repaired. We were a sufficient number, being well armed, not to be afraid of a few savages, even if they penetrated further into the island, and showed hostile intentions. I exhorted my sons to do nothing to irritate them; on the contrary, to meet them with kindness and attention, and to commit no violence against them unless called on to defend their lives. I also recommended them to select from the wrecked chest, some articles likely to please the savages, and to carry them always about with them. “And I beseech you, once more,” added I, “not to alarm your mother.” They promised me; and we continued our road unmolested to Falcon’s Nest. Jack preceded us, delighted, he said, to see our castle again, which he hoped the savages had not carried away. Suddenly, we saw him return, running, with terror painted on his countenance.

This unusual situation gave me a lot to think about. Clearly, some savages had landed on our island and taken our canoe. We didn’t have any doubt anymore when we found the prints of bare feet in the sand! It’s easy to imagine how anxious and distressed I felt. I quickly made my way to Tent House, which was now more than three leagues away. I told my sons not to mention this event or our suspicions to their mother because I knew it would upset her completely. I tried to calm myself. It was possible that they had just stumbled upon the Bay, noticed our lovely canoe, and, satisfied with their prize and seeing no one around, might not decide to come back. On the other hand, perhaps these islanders might be friendly and humane, and could even become our allies. There was no evidence of their actions beyond the shore. We stopped by The Farm just to check things out. Everything seemed fine; and if they had made it this far, there were certainly things here that might attract them: our cotton mattresses, our willow seats, and some household items my wife had left behind. Our geese and chickens didn’t seem to be alarmed at all, but were pecking around as usual for worms and insects. I began to hope that we might get away with just losing our canoe—a loss that could be replaced. We had enough people and were well-armed, so we shouldn’t be afraid of a few savages, even if they ventured deeper into the island and acted hostile. I urged my sons to do nothing to provoke them; instead, to greet them with kindness and attention, and to use force only if it became necessary for self-defense. I also suggested they take some items from the wrecked chest that might please the savages and carry them with them at all times. “And I ask you once more,” I added, “not to alarm your mother.” They agreed, and we continued on our way to Falcon’s Nest without any trouble. Jack led the way, saying he was excited to see our castle again, hoping the savages hadn’t taken it. Suddenly, we saw him come running back, with fear written all over his face.

“They are there!” said he; “they have taken possession of it; our dwelling is full of them. Oh! how frightful they are! What a blessing mamma is not there; she would have died of fright to see them enter.”

“They’re here!” he said. “They’ve taken over; our home is full of them. Oh! They’re so terrifying! Thank goodness Mom isn’t here; she would have freaked out seeing them come in.”

I confess I was much agitated; but, not wishing to expose my children to danger before I had done all in my power to prevent it, I ordered them to remain behind till I called them. I broke a branch from a tree hastily, which I held in one hand, and in the other some long nails, which I found by chance in the bottom of my pocket; and I advanced thus to my Tree-Castle. I expected to have found the door of my staircase torn open and broken, and our new guests ascending and descending; but I saw at once it was closed as I had left it; being of bark, it was not easily distinguished. How had these savages reached the dwelling, forty feet from the ground? I had placed planks before the great opening; they were no longer there; the greater part of them had been hurled down to the ground, and I heard such a noise in our house, that I could not doubt Jack’s report. I advanced timidly, holding up in the air the branch and my offerings, when I discovered, all at once, that I was offering them to a troop of monkeys, lodged in the fortress, which they were amusing themselves by destroying. We had numbers of them in the island; some large and mischievous, against whom we had some difficulty in defending ourselves when crossing the woods, where they principally dwelt. The frequent report of fire-arms round our dwelling had kept them aloof till now, when, emboldened by our absence, and enticed by the figs on our tree, they had come in crowds. These vexatious animals had got through the roof, and, once in, had thrown down the planks that covered the opening; they made the most frightful grimaces, throwing down everything they could seize.

I admit I was really shaken up; however, not wanting to put my kids in danger before I did everything I could to prevent it, I told them to stay behind until I called for them. I quickly broke off a branch from a tree, holding it in one hand, while in the other I had some long nails I had randomly found in my pocket, and I approached my Tree-Castle this way. I expected to find the staircase door ripped open and broken, with our new guests going up and down, but I immediately saw it was still closed as I had left it; being made of bark, it blended in well. How had these savages reached the house, which was forty feet off the ground? I had placed planks over the big opening; they were gone now; most of them had been thrown down to the ground, and I could hear such a racket in our home that I had to believe Jack's report. I moved forward cautiously, holding up the branch and my offerings, when I suddenly realized I was presenting them to a group of monkeys, who were making themselves at home in the fortress and wrecking everything. We had a lot of them on the island; some were large and mischievous, and we had trouble defending ourselves against them when we crossed the woods where they mostly lived. The constant sound of gunfire around our home had kept them away until now, when, encouraged by our absence and attracted by the figs on our tree, they had come in large numbers. These annoying animals had gotten through the roof, and once inside, had tossed down the planks that covered the opening; they were making the most terrifying faces and throwing down anything they could grab.

Although this devastation caused me much vexation, I could not help laughing at their antics, and at the humble and submissive manner in which I had advanced to pay homage to them. I called my sons, who laughed heartily, and rallied “the prince of the monkeys” without mercy, for not knowing his own subjects. Fritz wished much to discharge his gun amongst them, but I forbade him. I was too anxious to reach Tent House, to be able to turn my thoughts on these depredators just now.

Even though this destruction annoyed me greatly, I couldn't help but laugh at their silly behaviors and at the humble, submissive way I approached them to show my respect. I called my sons over, who laughed loudly and teased "the prince of the monkeys" without holding back, for not recognizing his own subjects. Fritz really wanted to fire his gun at them, but I stopped him. I was too eager to get to Tent House to focus on these troublemakers right now.

We continued our journey—but I pause here; my heart is oppressed. My feelings when I reached home require another chapter to describe them, and I must summon courage for the task.

We kept traveling, but I need to stop here; my heart feels heavy. The emotions I felt when I got home deserve another chapter to explain, and I must gather my strength for that.


CHAPTER XLVII.

We soon arrived at Family Bridge, where I had some hopes of meeting Francis, and perhaps his mother, who was beginning to walk very well; but I was disappointed—they were not there. Yet I was not uneasy, for they were neither certain of the hour of our return, nor of the way we might take. I expected, however, to find them in the colonnade—they were not there. I hastily entered the house; I called aloud, “Elizabeth! Francis! where are you?” No one answered. A mortal terror seized me—and for a moment I could not move.

We quickly arrived at Family Bridge, where I hoped to see Francis and maybe his mom, who was getting pretty good at walking. But I was let down—they weren't there. Still, I wasn't too worried since they didn’t know when we would be back or which route we might take. I thought I’d find them in the colonnade, but they weren’t there either. I rushed into the house and shouted, “Elizabeth! Francis! Where are you?” No one replied. A deep fear gripped me—and for a moment, I couldn’t move.

“They will be in the grotto,” said Ernest.

“They'll be in the grotto,” said Ernest.

“Or in the garden,” said Fritz.

“Or in the garden,” Fritz said.

“Perhaps on the shore,” cried Jack; “my mother likes to watch the waves, and Francis may be gathering shells.”

“Maybe on the beach,” shouted Jack; “my mom likes to watch the waves, and Francis might be collecting shells.”

These were possibilities. My sons flew in all directions in search of their mother and brother. I found it impossible to move, and was obliged to sit down. I trembled, and my heart beat till I could scarcely breathe. I did not venture to dwell on the extent of my fears, or, rather, I had no distinct notion of them. I tried to recover myself. I murmured, “Yes—at the grotto, or the garden—they will return directly.” Still, I could not compose myself. I was overwhelmed with a sad presentiment of the misfortune which impended over me. It was but too soon realized. My sons returned in fear and consternation. They had no occasion to tell me the result of their search; I saw it at once, and, sinking down motionless, I cried, “Alas! they are not there!”

These were possibilities. My sons scattered in all directions looking for their mother and brother. I found it impossible to move, so I had to sit down. I trembled, and my heart raced until I could barely breathe. I didn't let myself think about how scared I was, or really, I didn’t have a clear idea of it. I tried to pull myself together. I whispered, “Yes—at the grotto, or the garden—they’ll be back soon.” Still, I couldn't calm down. I was overwhelmed by a sinking feeling of the disaster that was about to happen. It became clear all too soon. My sons came back in fear and panic. They didn’t need to tell me what happened during their search; I saw it immediately, and, sinking down in silence, I cried, “Oh no! They’re not there!”

Jack returned the last, and in the most frightful state; he had been at the sea-shore, and, throwing himself into my arms, he sobbed out—

Jack came back last, and he was in the worst condition; he had been at the beach, and, throwing himself into my arms, he sobbed out—

“The savages have been here, and carried away my mother and Francis; perhaps they have devoured them; I have seen the marks of their horrible feet on the sands, and the print of dear Francis’s boots.”

“The savages have been here and taken my mother and Francis; maybe they’ve eaten them. I’ve seen the marks of their horrible feet in the sand, along with the print of dear Francis’s boots.”

This account at once recalled me to strength and action.

This narrative immediately reminded me of strength and action.

“Come, my children, let us fly to save them. God will pity our sorrow, and assist us. He will restore them. Come, come!”

“Come, my children, let’s hurry to save them. God will have compassion on our sorrow and help us. He will bring them back. Come, come!”

They were ready in a moment. But a distracting thought seized me. Had they carried off the pinnace? if so, every hope was gone. Jack, in his distress, had never thought of remarking this; but, the instant I named it, Fritz and he ran to ascertain the important circumstance, Ernest, in the mean time, supporting me, and endeavouring to calm me.

They were ready in no time. But a distracting thought hit me. Had they taken the small boat? If so, all hope was lost. Jack, in his worry, hadn't even thought to mention it; but as soon as I brought it up, Fritz and he ran off to find out the crucial detail, while Ernest stayed with me, trying to comfort me.

“Perhaps,” said he, “they are still in the island. Perhaps they may have fled to hide themselves in some wood, or amongst the reeds. Even if the pinnace be left, it would be prudent to search the island from end to end before we leave it. Trust Fritz and me, we will do this; and, even if we find them in the hands of the enemy, we will recover them. Whilst we are off on this expedition, you can be preparing for our voyage, and we will search the world from one end to the other, every country and every sea, but we will find them. And we shall succeed. Let us put our whole trust in God. He is our Father, he will not try us beyond our strength.”

“Maybe,” he said, “they're still on the island. They might have run off to hide in some woods or among the reeds. Even if the small boat is still here, it would be smart to search the island thoroughly before we leave. Trust Fritz and me; we’ll take care of this. And even if we find them captured by the enemy, we’ll get them back. While we’re off on this mission, you can get ready for our journey, and we’ll search the entire world, every country and every ocean, but we will find them. We will succeed. Let’s put all our trust in God. He’s our Father; He won’t test us beyond what we can handle.”

I embraced my child, and a flood of tears relieved my overcharged heart. My eyes and hands were raised to Heaven; my silent prayers winged their flight to the Almighty, to him who tries us and consoles us. A ray of hope seemed to visit my mind, when I heard my boys cry out, as they approached—

I hugged my child, and a wave of tears relieved my overwhelmed heart. My eyes and hands were lifted to Heaven; my silent prayers soared to the Almighty, to the one who tests us and comforts us. A glimmer of hope seemed to touch my mind when I heard my boys shout as they came closer—

“The pinnace is here! they have not carried that away!”

“The small boat is here! They didn’t take that away!”

I fervently thanked God—it was a kind of miracle; for this pretty vessel was more tempting than the canoe. Perhaps, as it was hidden in a little creek between the rocks, it had escaped their observation; perhaps they might not know how to manage it; or they might not be numerous enough. No matter, it was there, and might be the means of our recovering the beloved objects those barbarians had torn from us. How gracious is God, to give us hope to sustain us in our afflictions! Without hope, we could not live; it restores and revives us, and, even if never realized below, accompanies us to the end of our life, and beyond the grave!

I passionately thanked God—it felt like a miracle; this beautiful boat was way more appealing than the canoe. Maybe, since it was hidden in a little creek between the rocks, they didn’t notice it; maybe they didn’t know how to use it; or perhaps there weren’t enough of them. It didn’t matter, it was there, and it could help us get back what those savages had taken from us. How generous is God, to give us hope to carry us through our struggles! Without hope, we couldn’t survive; it rejuvenates us and, even if never fulfilled in this life, stays with us until the end and beyond the grave!

I imparted to my eldest son the idea of his brother, that they might be concealed in some part of the island; but I dared not rely on this sweet hope. Finally, as we ought not to run the risk of abandoning them, if they were still here, and perhaps in the power of the savages, I consented that my two eldest sons should go to ascertain the fact. Besides, however impatient I was, I felt that a voyage such as we were undertaking into unknown seas might be of long duration, and it was necessary to make some preparations—I must think on food, water, arms, and many other things. There are situations in life which seize the heart and soul, rendering us insensible to the wants of the body—this we now experienced. We had just come from a painful journey, on foot, of twenty-four hours, during which we had had little rest, and no sleep. Since morning we had eaten nothing but some morsels of the bread-fruit; it was natural that we should be overcome with fatigue and hunger. But we none of us had even thought of our own state—we were supported, if I may use the expression, by our despair. At the moment that my sons were going to set out, the remembrance of their need of refreshment suddenly occurred to me, and I besought them to rest a little, and take something; but they were too much agitated to consent. I gave Fritz a bottle of Canary, and some slices of roast mutton I met with, which he put in his pocket. They had each a loaded musket, and they set out, taking the road along the rocks, where the most hidden retreats and most impenetrable woods lay; they promised me to fire off their pieces frequently to let their mother know they were there, if she was hidden among the rocks—they took also one of the dogs. Flora we could not find, which made us conclude she had followed her mistress, to whom she was much attached.

I shared with my oldest son the thought of his brother, that they might be hiding somewhere on the island; but I couldn’t fully trust this hopeful idea. In the end, since we couldn’t risk leaving them behind if they were still here, possibly in the hands of the savages, I agreed that my two oldest sons should go check. Besides, even though I was very impatient, I realized that a journey like the one we were about to embark on into unfamiliar seas could take a long time, and we needed to prepare—I had to think about food, water, weapons, and many other things. There are moments in life that grip your heart and soul, making you oblivious to your physical needs—and that’s what we were feeling now. We had just come off a grueling twenty-four-hour walk, with little rest and no sleep. Since morning, all we had eaten were a few pieces of breadfruit; it was only natural that we were overwhelmed with fatigue and hunger. But none of us even thought about our own condition—we were, if I might say, buoyed by our despair. Just as my sons were about to leave, I suddenly remembered they needed some food and I urged them to rest a bit and eat something; but they were too agitated to agree. I handed Fritz a bottle of Canary wine and some slices of roast mutton I found, which he stuffed in his pocket. They both carried loaded muskets and set off, taking the path along the rocks, where the most hidden spots and densest woods were; they promised me they would fire their guns often to let their mother know they were safe, in case she was hiding among the rocks—they also took one of the dogs. We couldn’t find Flora, leading us to believe she had followed her owner, to whom she was very attached.

As soon as my eldest sons had left us, I made Jack conduct me to the shore where he had seen the footmarks, that I might examine them, to judge of their number and direction. I found many very distinct, but so mingled, I could come to no positive conclusion. Some were near the sea, with the foot pointing to the shore; and amongst these Jack thought he could distinguish the boot-mark of Francis. My wife wore very light boots also, which I had made for her; they rendered stockings unnecessary, and strengthened her ankles. I could not find the trace of these; but I soon discovered that my poor Elizabeth had been here, from a piece torn from an apron she wore, made of her own cotton, and dyed red. I had now not the least doubt that she was in the canoe with her son. It was a sort of consolation to think they were together; but how many mortal fears accompanied this consolation! Oh! was I ever to see again these objects of my tenderest affection!

As soon as my oldest sons left us, I had Jack take me to the shore where he had seen the footprints so I could check them out and figure out their number and direction. I found many clear prints, but they were so mixed together that I couldn't draw any definite conclusions. Some were close to the sea, with the footprints facing the shore; among those, Jack thought he could make out Francis's boot mark. My wife also wore very light boots, which I had made for her; they eliminated the need for stockings and provided extra support for her ankles. I couldn't find traces of those, but I soon realized that my poor Elizabeth had been here, from a piece torn from an apron she wore, made of her own cotton and dyed red. I now had no doubt that she was in the canoe with her son. It was somewhat comforting to think they were together, but how many worries came with that comfort! Oh! would I ever see again these people I cared for the most!

Certain now that they were not in the island, I was impatient for the return of my sons, and I made every preparation for our departure. The first thing I thought of was the wrecked chest, which would furnish me with means to conciliate the savages, and to ransom my loved ones. I added to it everything likely to tempt them; utensils, stuffs, trinkets; I even took with me gold and silver coin, which was thrown on one side as useless, but might be of service to us on this occasion. I wished my riches were three times as much as they were, that I might give all in exchange for the life and liberty of my wife and son. I then turned my thoughts on those remaining to me: I took, in bags and gourds, all that we had left of cassava bread, manioc roots, and potatoes; a barrel of salt-fish, two bottles of rum, and several jars of fresh water. Jack wept as he filled them at his fountain, which he perhaps might never see again, any more than his dear Valiant, whom I set at liberty, as well as the cow, ass, buffalo, and the beautiful onagra. These docile animals were accustomed to us and our attentions, and they remained in their places, surprised that they were neither harnessed nor mounted. We opened the poultry-yard and pigeon-cote. The flamingo would not leave us, it went and came with us from the house to the pinnace. We took also oil, candles, fuel, and a large iron pot to cook our provisions in. For our defence, I took two more guns, and a small barrel of powder, all we had left. I added besides some changes of linen, not forgetting some for my dear wife, which I hoped might be needed. The time fled rapidly while we were thus employed; night came on, and my sons returned not. My grief was inconceivable; the island was so large and woody, that they might have lost themselves, or the savages might have returned and encountered them. After twenty hours of frightful terror, I heard the report of a gun—alas! only one report! it was the signal agreed on if they returned alone; two if they brought their mother; three if Francis also accompanied them; but I expected they would return alone, and I was still grateful. I ran to meet them; they were overcome with fatigue and vexation.

Certain now that we were not on the island, I was eager for my sons to return, and I made every preparation for our departure. The first thing I thought of was the wrecked chest, which would provide means to appease the savages and to ransom my loved ones. I added everything that might tempt them: utensils, fabrics, trinkets; I even took gold and silver coins, which had been discarded as useless but might be useful to us now. I wished I had three times my wealth so I could give everything in exchange for the life and freedom of my wife and son. Next, I focused on what was left for us: I gathered all the cassava bread, manioc roots, and potatoes remaining in bags and gourds; a barrel of salt fish, two bottles of rum, and several jars of fresh water. Jack cried as he filled them at the spring, which he might never see again, just like his dear Valiant, whom I freed along with the cow, donkey, buffalo, and the beautiful onager. These gentle animals were used to us and our care, and they stayed in place, surprised that they weren’t harnessed or ridden. We opened the poultry yard and pigeon coop. The flamingo wouldn’t leave us; it came and went with us from the house to the boat. We also took oil, candles, fuel, and a large iron pot to cook our food. For our defense, I took two more guns and a small barrel of gunpowder, which was all we had left. I also packed some changes of linen, including some for my dear wife, which I hoped would be needed. Time passed quickly as we worked; night fell, and my sons still hadn’t returned. My grief was unimaginable; the island was so large and wooded that they might have lost their way, or the savages could have encountered them again. After twenty hours of terrifying anxiety, I heard the sound of a gun—alas! only one shot! It was the signal we agreed on if they returned alone; two if they brought their mother; three if Francis was with them too. I expected they would return alone, and I was still thankful. I ran to meet them; they were exhausted and upset.

They begged to set out immediately, not to lose one precious moment; they were now sure the island did not contain those they lamented, and they hoped I would not return without discovering them, for what would the island be to us without our loved ones? Fritz, at that moment, saw his dear Lightfoot capering round him, and could not help sighing as he caressed him, and took leave of him.

They begged to head out right away, not wanting to waste a single moment; they were now certain that the island didn’t hold the ones they mourned, and they hoped I wouldn’t come back without finding them, because what would the island mean to us without our loved ones? Fritz, at that moment, spotted his dear Lightfoot dancing around him and couldn't help but sigh as he petted him and said goodbye.

“May I find thee here,” said he, “where I leave thee in such sorrow; and I will bring back thy young master,” added he, turning to the bull, who was also approaching him.

“May I find you here,” he said, “where I leave you in such sorrow; and I will bring back your young master,” he added, turning to the bull, who was also coming toward him.

He then begged me again to set out, as the moon was just rising in all her majesty.

He then urged me once more to get going, as the moon was just rising in all her glory.

“The queen of night,” said Ernest; “will guide us to the queen of our island, who is perhaps now looking up to her, and calling on us to help her.”

“The queen of night,” said Ernest, “will guide us to the queen of our island, who is probably looking up to her right now and calling on us for help.”

“Most assuredly,” said I, “she is thinking on us; but it is on God she is calling for help. Let us join her in prayer, my dear children, for herself and our dear Francis.”

“Definitely,” I said, “she is thinking about us; but she is calling on God for help. Let’s join her in prayer, my dear children, for her and our dear Francis.”

They fell on their knees with me, and I uttered the most fervent and earnest prayer that ever human heart poured forth; and I rose with confidence that our prayers were heard. I proceeded with new courage to the creek that contained our pinnace, where Jack arranged all we had brought; we rowed out of the creek, and when we were in the bay, we held a council to consider on which side we were to commence our search. I thought of returning to the great bay, from whence our canoe had been taken; my sons, on the contrary, thought that these islanders, content with their acquisition, had been returning homewards, coasting along the island, when an unhappy chance had led their mother and brother to the shore, where the savages had seen them, and carried them off. At the most, they could but be a day before us; but that was long enough to fill us with dreadful anticipations. I yielded to the opinion of my sons, which had a great deal of reason on its side, besides the wind was favourable in that direction; and, abandoning ourselves in full confidence to Almighty God, we spread our sails, and were soon in the open sea.

They dropped to their knees with me, and I said the most heartfelt and sincere prayer that any human heart could offer; I stood up feeling sure that our prayers were heard. I moved forward with renewed courage to the creek where our small boat was, and Jack organized everything we had brought; we rowed out of the creek, and once we were in the bay, we held a meeting to decide where to start our search. I thought about going back to the big bay, where our canoe had been taken; my sons, on the other hand, believed that these islanders, satisfied with what they had taken, had been heading home along the coast when a terrible twist of fate led their mother and brother to the shore, where the natives saw them and took them away. At most, they could be just a day ahead of us; but that was long enough to spark terrible fears. I went along with my sons' idea, which made a lot of sense, and the wind was also blowing in that direction; so, putting our full trust in Almighty God, we set our sails and were soon out in the open sea.


CHAPTER XLVIII.

A gentle wind swelled our sails, and the current carried us rapidly into the open sea. I then seated myself at the helm, and employed the little knowledge I had gained during our voyage from Europe in directing our bark, so that we might avoid the rocks and coral banks that surrounded our island. My two oldest sons, overcome with fatigue, had no sooner seated themselves on a bench, than they fell into a profound sleep, notwithstanding their sorrows. Jack held out the best; his love of the sea kept him awake, and I surrendered the helm to him till I took a momentary slumber, my head resting against the stern. A happy dream placed me in the midst of my family in our dear island; but a shout from Ernest awoke me, he was calling on Jack to leave the helm, as he was contriving to run the vessel among the breakers on the coast. I seized the helm, and soon set all right, determined not to trust my giddy son again.

A gentle wind filled our sails, and the current quickly carried us into the open sea. I then took my place at the helm and used the little knowledge I had picked up during our journey from Europe to steer our boat, making sure to avoid the rocks and coral reefs surrounding our island. My two oldest sons, exhausted, barely sat down on a bench before they fell into a deep sleep, despite their worries. Jack held up the best; his love for the sea kept him awake, and I handed the helm over to him while I took a brief nap, my head resting against the back of the boat. A happy dream brought me back to my family on our beloved island, but a shout from Ernest woke me up; he was telling Jack to leave the helm, as he was trying to steer the vessel into the breakers along the coast. I grabbed the helm and quickly set everything right, determined not to let my careless son take charge again.

Jack, of all my sons, was the one who evinced most taste for the sea; but being so young when we made our voyage, his knowledge of nautical affairs was very scanty. My elder sons had learnt more. Ernest, who had a great thirst for knowledge of every kind, had questioned the pilot on all he had seen him do. He had learned a great deal in theory, but of practical knowledge he had none. The mechanical genius of Fritz had drawn conclusions from what he saw; this would have induced me to place much trust in him in case of that danger which I prayed Heaven might be averted. What a situation was mine for a father! Wandering through unknown and dangerous seas with my three sons, my only hope, in search of a fourth, and of my beloved helpmate; utterly ignorant which way we should direct our course, or where to find a trace of those we sought. How often do we allay the happiness granted us below by vain wishes! I had at one time regretted that we had no means of leaving our island; now we had left it, and our sole wish was to recover those we had lost, to bring them back to it, and never to leave it more. I sometimes regretted that I had led my sons into this danger. I might have ventured alone; but I reflected that I could not have left them, for Fritz had said, “If the savages had carried off the pinnace, I would have swum from isle to isle till I had found them.” My boys all endeavoured to encourage and console me. Fritz placed himself at the rudder, observing that the pinnace was new and well built, and likely to resist a tempest. Ernest stood on the deck silently watching the stars, only breaking his silence by telling me he should be able by them to supply the want of the compass, and point out how we should direct our course. Jack climbed dexterously up the mast to let me see his skill; we called him the cabin-boy, Fritz was the pilot, Ernest the astronomer, and I was the captain and commander of the expedition. Daybreak showed us we had passed far from our island, which now only appeared a dark speck. I, as well as Fritz and Jack, was of opinion that it would be advisable to go round it, and try our fortune on the opposite coast; but Ernest, who had not forgotten his telescope, was certain he saw land in a direction he pointed out to us. We took the glass, and were soon convinced he was right. As day advanced, we saw the land plainly, and did not hesitate to sail towards it.

Jack, out of all my sons, was the one who showed the most interest in the sea; but since he was so young when we took our voyage, he knew very little about nautical things. My older sons had learned more. Ernest, who had a strong desire for knowledge of all types, asked the pilot about everything he saw him do. He had learned a lot in theory, but he had no practical experience. Fritz’s mechanical talent allowed him to draw conclusions from what he observed, which made me inclined to trust him in case of the danger I hoped to avoid. What a situation I found myself in as a father! Roaming through unknown and dangerous waters with my three sons, my only hope, while searching for a fourth and for my beloved partner; completely clueless about which way we should go or where to find a sign of those we were looking for. How often do we spoil our happiness with pointless wishes! At one point, I regretted that we had no way of leaving our island; now we had left it, and our only wish was to find those we lost, bring them back, and never leave again. Sometimes I wished I hadn’t led my sons into this situation. I might have dared to go alone; but I thought about how I couldn’t have left them, because Fritz had said, “If the savages took the pinnace, I would swim from island to island until I found them.” My boys all tried to encourage and comfort me. Fritz took the rudder, noting that the pinnace was new and well-built, and likely to withstand a storm. Ernest stood quietly on the deck, watching the stars, only breaking his silence to tell me he could use them to make up for the missing compass and show us the way to go. Jack skillfully climbed up the mast to show off, and we called him the cabin-boy, Fritz was the pilot, Ernest the astronomer, and I was the captain and leader of the expedition. At daybreak, we realized we had drifted far from our island, which now appeared as just a dark spot. Fritz, Jack, and I thought it would be wise to go around it and try our luck on the opposite coast; but Ernest, who hadn’t forgotten his telescope, was sure he saw land in the direction he pointed out to us. We took the glass and soon confirmed he was right. As the day progressed, we clearly saw the land and had no hesitation in sailing toward it.

As this appeared the land nearest to our island, we supposed the savages might have conveyed their captives there. But more trials awaited us before we arrived there. It being necessary to shift the sail, in order to reach the coast in view, my poor cabin-boy, Jack, ran up the mast, holding by the ropes; but before he reached the sail, the rope which he held broke suddenly; he was precipitated into the sea, and disappeared in a moment; but he soon rose to the surface, trying to swim, and mingling his cries with ours. Fritz, who was the first to see the accident, was in the water almost as soon as Jack, and seizing him by the hair, swam with the other hand, calling on him to try and keep afloat, and hold by him. When I saw my two sons thus struggling with the waves, that were very strong from a land-wind, I should, in my despair, have leaped in after them; but Ernest held me, and implored me to remain to assist in getting them into the pinnace. He had thrown ropes to them, and a bench which he had torn up with the strength of despair. Fritz had contrived to catch one of the ropes and fasten it round Jack, who still swam, but feebly, as if nearly exhausted. Fritz had been considered an excellent swimmer in Switzerland; he preserved all his presence of mind, calling to us to draw the rope gently, while he supported the poor boy, and pushed him towards the pinnace. At last I was able to reach and draw him up; and when I saw him extended, nearly lifeless, at the bottom of the pinnace, I fell down senseless beside him. How precious to us now was the composed mind of Ernest! In the midst of such a scene, he was calm and collected; promptly disengaging the rope from the body of Jack, he flung it back to Fritz, to help him in reaching the pinnace, attaching the other end firmly to the mast. This done, quicker than I can write it, he approached us, raised his brother so that he might relieve himself from the quantity of water he had swallowed; then turning to me, restored me to my senses by administering to me some drops of rum, and by saying, “Courage, father! you have saved Jack, and I will save Fritz. He has hold of the rope; he is swimming strongly; he is coming; he is here!”

As this came into view, the land closest to our island, we thought the natives might have taken their captives there. But we faced more challenges before we could reach it. We needed to adjust the sail to get to the visible coast, and my poor cabin-boy, Jack, climbed up the mast, holding onto the ropes. But just before he reached the sail, the rope he was gripping snapped suddenly; he fell into the sea and vanished in an instant. However, he quickly surfaced, trying to swim and mixing his cries with ours. Fritz, who saw the accident first, jumped into the water almost right after Jack and grabbed him by the hair, swimming with his other hand and urging him to stay afloat and hold on to him. When I saw my two sons struggling against the strong waves pushed by the land wind, I felt desperate enough to jump in after them; but Ernest held me back and begged me to stay and help get them into the boat. He had thrown ropes to them and a bench he had torn out with sheer desperation. Fritz managed to grab one of the ropes and tie it around Jack, who was still swimming but weakly, as if nearly worn out. Fritz had always been a great swimmer back in Switzerland; he kept his cool, telling us to pull the rope gently while he supported Jack and pushed him toward the boat. Finally, I was able to reach him and pull him up, and when I saw him lying nearly lifeless at the bottom of the boat, I collapsed beside him. How invaluable was Ernest's calmness to us now! In the midst of such chaos, he was composed and collected; quickly detaching the rope from Jack's body, he tossed it back to Fritz to assist him in getting to the boat, securing the other end tightly to the mast. Once that was done, faster than I can write it, he came over, lifted his brother to help him expel the water he had swallowed, then turned to me, reviving me with some drops of rum and saying, “Stay strong, Dad! You saved Jack, and I’ll save Fritz. He has the rope; he’s swimming strongly; he’s coming; he’s here!”

He left me to assist his brother, who was soon in the vessel, and in my arms. Jack, perfectly recovered, joined him; and fervently did I thank God for granting me, in the midst of my trials, such a moment of happiness. We could not help fancying this happy preservation was an augury of our success in our anxious search, and that we should bring back the lost ones to our island.

He left me to help his brother, who was soon in the boat and in my arms. Jack, completely recovered, joined him; and I fervently thanked God for giving me, amid my struggles, such a moment of happiness. We couldn't help but think that this fortunate rescue was a sign of our success in our anxious search and that we would bring back the lost people to our island.

“Oh, how terrified mamma would have been,” said Jack, “to see me sink! I thought I was going, like a stone, to the bottom of the sea; but I pushed out my arms and legs with all my strength, and up I rose.”

“Oh, how scared Mom would have been,” said Jack, “to see me sink! I thought I was going down like a stone to the bottom of the sea; but I pushed my arms and legs out with all my strength, and up I came.”

He as well as Fritz was quite wet. I had by chance brought some changes of clothes, which I made them put on, after giving each a little rum. They were so much fatigued, and I was so overcome by my agitation, that we were obliged to relinquish rowing, most unwillingly, as the skies threatened a storm. We gradually began to distinguish clearly the island we wished to approach; and the land-birds, which came to rest on our sails, gave us hopes that we should reach it before night; but, suddenly, such a thick fog arose, that it hid every object from us, even the sea itself, and we seemed to be sailing among the clouds. I thought it prudent to drop our anchor, as, fortunately, we had a tolerably strong one; but there appeared so little water, that I feared we were near the breakers, and I watched anxiously for the fog to dissipate, and permit us to see the coast. It finally changed into a heavy rain, which we could with difficulty protect ourselves from; there was, however, a half-deck to the pinnace, under which we crept, and sheltered ourselves. Here, crowded close together, we talked over the late accident. Fritz assured me he was never in any danger, and that he would plunge again into the sea that moment, if he had the least hope that it would lead him to find his mother and Francis. We all said the same; though Jack confessed that his friends, the waves, had not received his visit very politely, but had even beat him very rudely.

He and Fritz were both pretty soaked. Luckily, I had brought some spare clothes, which I made them put on after sharing a little rum with each of them. They were so exhausted, and I was so overwhelmed by my nerves, that we had to reluctantly stop rowing as dark clouds threatened a storm. We gradually started to see the island we wanted to reach more clearly; and the land birds resting on our sails made us hopeful we would arrive before nightfall. But then, out of nowhere, a thick fog rolled in, hiding everything from us, even the sea, making it feel like we were sailing through clouds. I decided it was best to drop anchor since we had a fairly strong one, but it looked like there was very little water, and I worried we might be close to the breakers. I anxiously waited for the fog to clear so we could see the coastline. It then turned into a heavy rain, which was hard to protect ourselves from; however, there was a half-deck on the boat where we huddled for shelter. Packed closely together, we talked about the recent incident. Fritz assured me he wasn’t in any real danger and that he would dive back into the sea right then if he thought it might lead him to find his mother and Francis. We all agreed, though Jack admitted that his old friends, the waves, hadn’t welcomed him very nicely and had actually been quite rough with him.

“But I would bear twice as much,” said he, “to see mamma and dear Francis again. Do you think, papa, that the savages could ever hurt them? Mamma is so good, and Francis is so pretty! and then, poor mamma is so lame yet; I hope they would pity her, and carry her.”

“But I would endure even more,” he said, “to see Mom and dear Francis again. Do you think, Dad, that the savages could ever hurt them? Mom is so kind, and Francis is so cute! And poor Mom is still so lame; I hope they would feel sorry for her and carry her.”

Alas! I could not hope as my boy did; I feared that they would force her to walk. I tried to conceal other horrible fears, that almost threw me into despair. I recalled all the cruelties of the cannibal nations, and shuddered to think that my Elizabeth and my darling child were perhaps in their ferocious hands. Prayer and confidence in God were the only means, not to console, but to support me, and teach me to endure my heavy affliction with resignation. I looked on my three sons, and endeavoured, for their sakes, to hope and submit. The darkness rapidly increased, till it became total; we concluded it was night. The rain having ceased, I went out to strike a light, as I wished to hang the lighted lantern to the mast, when Ernest, who was on deck, called out loudly, “Father! brothers! come! the sea is on fire!” And, indeed, as far as the eye could reach, the surface of the water appeared in flames; this light, of the most brilliant, fiery red, reached even to the vessel, and we were surrounded by it. It was a sight at once beautiful, and almost terrific. Jack seriously inquired, if there was not a volcano at the bottom of the sea; and I astonished him much by telling him, that this light was caused by a kind of marine animals, which in form resembled plants so much, that they were formerly considered such; but naturalists and modern voyagers have entirely destroyed this error, and furnished proofs that they are organized beings, having all the spontaneous movements peculiar to animals. They feel when they are touched, seek for food, seize and devour it; they are of various kinds and colours, and are known under the general name of zoophytes.

Unfortunately, I couldn't hold onto hope like my boy did; I was afraid they would force her to walk. I tried to hide other dreadful fears that nearly drove me to despair. I remembered all the brutalities of the cannibal nations and shuddered at the thought that my Elizabeth and my dear child might be in their savage clutches. Prayer and faith in God were my only means—not to comfort me, but to support me and help me endure my heavy grief with patience. I looked at my three sons and tried, for their sake, to hope and accept our situation. The darkness quickly deepened until it was complete; we realized it was night. With the rain stopped, I went out to light a lantern because I wanted to hang the lit lantern from the mast, when Ernest, who was on deck, shouted, “Father! Brothers! Come! The sea is on fire!” And indeed, as far as we could see, the surface of the water looked like it was on fire; this brilliant, fiery red light even reached our ship, surrounding us. It was a sight that was both beautiful and almost terrifying. Jack seriously asked if there was a volcano at the bottom of the sea; I surprised him by explaining that this light was caused by a type of marine animal that resembled plants so closely they were once thought to be plants. However, naturalists and modern explorers have completely dispelled this misconception and provided proof that they are living beings, exhibiting all the spontaneous movements typical of animals. They respond to touch, forage for food, catch it, and eat it; they come in various types and colors and are generally known as zoophytes.

“And this which glitters in such beautiful colours on the sea, is called pyrosoma,” said Ernest. “See, here are some I have caught in my hat; you may see them move. How they change colour—orange, green, blue, like the rainbow; and when you touch them, the flame appears still more brilliant; now they are pale yellow.”

“And this that shines in such beautiful colors on the sea is called pyrosoma, ” said Ernest. “Look, here are some I caught in my hat; you can see them move. They change color—orange, green, blue, like a rainbow; and when you touch them, the flame looks even more brilliant; now they are pale yellow.”

They amused themselves some time with these bright and beautiful creatures, which appear to have but a half-life. They occupied a large space on the water, and their astonishing radiance, in the midst of the darkness of the atmosphere, had such a striking and magnificent effect, that for a few moments we were diverted from our own sad thoughts; but an observation from Jack soon recalled them.

They entertained themselves for a while with these bright and beautiful creatures, which seem to have only a fleeting existence. They took up a big area on the water, and their amazing brightness, amidst the dark atmosphere, had such a stunning and impressive effect that for a few moments we forgot our own gloomy thoughts; but a comment from Jack quickly brought them back.

“If Francis passed this way,” said he, “how he would be amused with these funny creatures, which look like fire, but do not burn; but I know he would be afraid to touch them; and how much afraid mamma would be, as she likes no animals she does not know. Ah! how glad I shall be to tell her all about our voyage, and my excursion into the sea, and how Fritz dragged me by the hair, and what they call these fiery fishes; tell me again, Ernest; py—py—”

“If Francis came this way,” he said, “he would get a kick out of these strange creatures that look like fire but don't burn. But I know he would be too scared to touch them; and I can only imagine how worried mom would be since she doesn’t like any animals she isn’t familiar with. Ah! I can’t wait to tell her all about our trip, my adventure at sea, how Fritz pulled me by my hair, and what they call these fiery fish; tell me again, Ernest; py—py—”

“Pyrosoma, Mr. Peron calls them,” said Ernest. “The description of them is very interesting in his voyage, which I have read to mamma; and as she would recollect it, she would not be afraid.”

“Mr. Peron calls them Pyrosoma,” Ernest said. “His description of them is really interesting in his voyage, which I read to mom; and if she remembers it, she won’t be scared.”

“I pray to God,” replied I, “that she may have nothing more to fear than the pyrosoma, and that we may soon see them again, with her and Francis.”

“I pray to God,” I replied, “that she will have nothing more to fear than the pyrosome, and that we can soon see them again, along with her and Francis.”

We all said Amen; and, the day breaking, we decided to weigh the anchor, and endeavour to find a passage through the reefs to reach the island, which we now distinctly saw, and which seemed an uncultivated and rocky coast. I resumed my place at the helm, my sons took the oars, and we advanced cautiously, sounding every minute. What would have become of us if our pinnace had been injured! The sea was perfectly calm, and, after prayer to God, and a slight refreshment, we proceeded forward, looking carefully round for any canoe of the savages—it might be, even our own; but, no! we were not fortunate enough to discover any trace of our beloved friends, nor any symptom of the isle being inhabited; however, as it was our only point of hope, we did not wish to abandon it. By dint of searching, we found a small bay, which reminded us of our own. It was formed by a river, broad and deep enough for our pinnace to enter. We rowed in; and having placed our vessel in a creek, where it appeared to be secure, we began to consider the means of exploring the whole island.

We all said Amen; and as dawn broke, we decided to weigh the anchor and try to find a way through the reefs to reach the island, which we could now clearly see and looked like a rugged and uncultivated coast. I took my position at the helm, my sons took the oars, and we moved forward cautiously, checking the depth of the water every minute. What would have happened if our small boat had been damaged! The sea was completely calm, and after praying to God and having a light snack, we continued onward, carefully looking around for any canoes from the natives—it could even be our own; but, no! We were not lucky enough to find any sign of our dear friends or any indication that the island was inhabited; however, since it was our only hope, we didn’t want to give up on it. After searching, we discovered a small bay that reminded us of home. It was formed by a river wide and deep enough for our boat to enter. We rowed in, and after securing our vessel in a cove that seemed safe, we started to think about how to explore the entire island.


CHAPTER XLIX.

I did not disembark on this unknown shore without great emotion: it might be inhabited by a barbarous and cruel race, and I almost doubted the prudence of thus risking my three remaining children in the hazardous and uncertain search after our dear lost ones. I think I could have borne my bereavement with Christian resignation, if I had seen my wife and child die in my arms; I should then have been certain they were happy in the bosom of their God; but to think of them in the power of ferocious and idolatrous savages, who might subject them to cruel tortures and death, chilled my very blood. I demanded of my sons, if they felt courage to pursue the difficult and perilous enterprise we had commenced. They all declared they would rather die than not find their mother and brother. Fritz even besought me, with Ernest and Jack, to return to the island, in case the wanderers should come back, and be terrified to find it deserted; and to leave him the arms, and the means of trafficking with the savages, without any uneasiness about his prudence and discretion.

I didn't step onto this unknown shore without feeling a lot of emotions: it could be home to a brutal and savage people, and I almost questioned the wisdom of risking my three remaining kids in this dangerous and uncertain search for our beloved ones. I think I could have accepted my loss with grace if I had seen my wife and child die in my arms; then I would have known they were at peace with God. But the thought of them being at the mercy of vicious, idol-worshipping savages who might torture them or kill them sent chills through me. I asked my sons if they had the courage to continue this difficult and risky journey we had started. They all insisted they would rather die than not find their mother and brother. Fritz even asked me, along with Ernest and Jack, to go back to the island in case the lost ones returned and found it empty; he wanted me to leave him the weapons and means to trade with the savages, assuring me he would handle it wisely and responsibly.

I assured him I did not distrust his courage and prudence, but I showed him the futility of hoping that the savages would voluntarily carry back their victims, or that they could escape alone. And should he meet with them here, and succeed, how could he carry his recovered treasures to the island?

I assured him that I didn’t doubt his courage or judgment, but I pointed out how pointless it was to hope that the savages would willingly return their captives or that they could get away on their own. And if he encountered them here and was successful, how would he bring back his recovered treasures to the island?

“No, my children,” said I, “we will all search, in the confidence that God will bless our efforts.”

“No, my kids,” I said, “we will all look for it, trusting that God will bless our efforts.”

“And perhaps sooner than we think,” said Ernest. “Perhaps they are in this island.”

“And maybe sooner than we realize,” said Ernest. “Maybe they're on this island.”

Jack was running off immediately to search, but I called my little madcap back, till we arranged our plans. I advised that two of us should remain to watch the coast, while the other two penetrated into the interior. The first thing necessary to ascertain was if the island was inhabited, which might easily be done, by climbing some tree that overlooked the country, and remarking if there were any traces of the natives, any huts, or fires lighted, &c. Those who made any discovery were immediately to inform the rest, that we might go in a body to recover our own. If nothing announced that the island was inhabited, we were to leave it immediately, to search elsewhere. All wished to be of the party of discovery. At length, Ernest agreed to remain with me, and watch for any arrivals by sea. Before we parted, we all knelt to invoke the blessing of God on our endeavours. Fritz and Jack, as the most active, were to visit the interior of the island, and to return with information as soon as possible. To be prepared for any chance, I gave them a game-bag filled with toys, trinkets, and pieces of money, to please the savages; I also made them take some food. Fritz took his gun, after promising me he would not fire it, except to defend his life, lest he should alarm the savages, and induce them to remove their captives. Jack took his lasso, and they set out with our benedictions, accompanied by the brave Turk, on whom I depended much to discover his mistress and his companion Flora, if she was still with her friends.

Jack was eager to rush off right away to search, but I called my little whirlwind back until we sorted out our plans. I suggested that two of us should stay behind to keep an eye on the coast while the other two ventured into the interior. The first thing we needed to find out was whether the island was inhabited, which could easily be done by climbing a tree that overlooked the area and checking for any signs of people, such as huts or campfires, etc. Those who found anything were to let the rest know immediately so we could all go together to recover our own. If there was no indication that anyone lived on the island, we would leave right away to look elsewhere. Everyone wanted to join the scouting party. Eventually, Ernest agreed to stay with me and watch for any arrivals by sea. Before we split up, we all knelt to ask for God's blessing on our efforts. Fritz and Jack, being the most active, were set to explore the interior of the island and return with information as soon as they could. To prepare for any situation, I gave them a game bag filled with toys, trinkets, and some money to win over the locals; I also made sure they took some food. Fritz grabbed his gun, promising me he wouldn't use it unless it was to defend himself, to avoid alarming any natives and causing them to relocate their captives. Jack took his lasso, and they set off with our blessings, accompanied by the brave Turk, whom I was counting on to help find his mistress and his companion Flora, if she was still with her friends.

As soon as they were out of sight, Ernest and I set to work to conceal as much as possible our pinnace from discovery. We lowered the masts, and hid with great care under the deck the precious chest with our treasure, provisions, and powder. We got our pinnace with great difficulty, the water being low, behind a rock, which completely concealed it on the land-side, but it was still visible from the sea. Ernest suggested that we should entirely cover it with branches of trees, so that it might appear like a heap of bushes; and we began to cut them immediately with two hatchets we found in the chest, and which we speedily fitted with handles. We found also a large iron staple, which Ernest succeeded, with a hammer and pieces of wood, in fixing in the rock to moor the pinnace to. We had some difficulty in finding branches within our reach; there were many trees on the shore, but their trunks were bare. We found, at last, at some distance, an extensive thicket, composed of a beautiful shrub, which Ernest recognized to be a species of mimosa. The trunk of this plant is knotty and stunted, about three or four feet high, and spreads its branches horizontally, clothed with beautiful foliage, and so thickly interwoven, that the little quadrupeds who make their dwellings in these thickets are obliged to open covered roads out of the entangled mass of vegetation.

As soon as they were out of sight, Ernest and I got to work trying to hide our boat as best as we could. We lowered the masts and carefully tucked away the precious chest with our treasure, food, and gunpowder beneath the deck. It was quite a struggle to move our boat, with the water being low, behind a rock that completely hid it from the land, but it was still visible from the sea. Ernest suggested we cover it entirely with tree branches so it would look like a pile of bushes, and we started cutting them right away with two hatchets we found in the chest and quickly made handles for. We also discovered a large iron staple, which Ernest managed to fix into the rock using a hammer and some pieces of wood to secure the boat. We struggled a bit to find branches within reach; there were plenty of trees on the shore, but their trunks were bare. Finally, at some distance, we found a thick tangle of a beautiful shrub that Ernest recognized as a type of mimosa. The trunk of this plant is gnarled and stunted, about three or four feet high, and its branches spread out horizontally, covered in lush foliage so densely packed that the small animals living in these thickets have to create hidden trails through the tangled vegetation.

At the first blow of the hatchet, a number of beautiful little creatures poured forth on all sides. They resembled the kangaroos of our island, but were smaller, more elegant, and remarkable for the beauty of their skin, which was striped like that of the zebra.

At the first swing of the hatchet, a bunch of beautiful little creatures burst out from all directions. They looked like the kangaroos from our island, but were smaller, more graceful, and notable for the beauty of their skin, which was striped like that of a zebra.

“It is the striped kangaroo,” cried Ernest, “described in the voyages of Peron. How I long to have one. The female should have a pouch to contain her young ones.”

“It’s the striped kangaroo,” shouted Ernest, “mentioned in Peron’s journeys. I can’t wait to have one. The female should have a pouch for her babies.”

He lay down very still at the entrance of the thicket, and soon had the satisfaction of seizing two, which leaped out almost into his arms. This animal is timid as the hare of our country. They endeavoured to escape, but Ernest held them fast. One was a female, which had her young one in her pouch, which my son took out very cautiously. It was an elegant little creature, with a skin like its mother, only more brilliant—it was full of graceful antics. The poor mother no longer wished to escape; all her desire seemed to be to recover her offspring, and to replace it in its nest. At last, she succeeded in seizing and placing it carefully in security. Then her desire to escape was so strong, that Ernest could scarcely hold her. He wished much to keep and tame her, and asked my permission to empty one of the chests for a dwelling for her, and to carry her off in the pinnace; but I refused him decidedly. I explained to him the uncertainty of our return to the island, and the imprudence of adding to our cares, and, “certainly,” added I, “you would not wish this poor mother to perish from famine and confinement, when your own mother is herself a prisoner?”

He lay very still at the entrance of the thicket and soon got the chance to grab two animals that jumped almost into his arms. This animal is as timid as a hare in our country. They tried to escape, but Ernest held them tightly. One was a female with her young one in her pouch, which my son carefully took out. It was a beautiful little creature, with a coat like its mother's but even shinier—it was full of playful movements. The poor mother no longer wanted to run away; all she cared about was getting her baby back and putting it safely in its nest. Eventually, she managed to grab it and place it securely. Then her urge to escape became so strong that Ernest could barely hold her. He really wanted to keep and tame her and asked if he could empty one of the chests for her to live in and take her along in the boat; but I firmly refused. I explained the uncertainty of our return to the island and the foolishness of adding to our troubles, saying, “Surely, you wouldn’t want this poor mother to die from hunger and confinement when your own mother is a prisoner herself?”

His eyes filled with tears, and he declared he would not be such a savage as to keep a poor mother in captivity. “Go, pretty creature,” said he, releasing her, “and may my mother be as fortunate as you.” She soon profited by his permission, and skipped off with her treasure.

His eyes filled with tears, and he said he wouldn’t be so cruel as to keep a poor mother locked up. “Go, beautiful creature,” he said, letting her go, “and I hope my mother is as lucky as you.” She quickly took advantage of his kindness and skipped away with her treasure.

We continued to cut down the branches of the mimosa; but they were so entangled, and the foliage so light, that we agreed to extend our search for some thicker branches.

We kept cutting down the branches of the mimosa, but they were so tangled and the leaves so sparse that we decided to look for some thicker branches.

As we left the shore, the country appeared more fertile: we found many unknown trees, which bore no fruit; but some covered with delicious flowers. Ernest was in his element, he wanted to collect and examine all, to endeavour to discover their names, either from analogy to other plants, or from descriptions he had read. He thought he recognized the melaleuca, several kinds of mimosa, and the Virginian pine, which has the largest and thickest branches. We loaded ourselves with as much as we could carry, and, in two or three journeys, we had collected sufficient to cover the vessel, and to make a shelter for ourselves, if we were obliged to pass the night on shore. I had given orders to my sons that both were to return before night, at all events; and if the least hope appeared, one was to run with all speed to tell us. All my fear was that they might lose their way in this unknown country: they might meet with lakes, marshes, or perplexing forests; every moment I was alarmed with the idea of some new danger, and never did any day seem so long. Ernest endeavoured, by every means in his power, to comfort and encourage me; but the buoyancy of spirit, peculiar to youth, prevented him dwelling long on one painful thought. He amused his mind by turning to search for the marine productions with which the rocks were covered: sea-weed, mosses of the most brilliant colours, zoophytes of various kinds, occupied his attention. He brought them to me, regretting that he could not preserve them.

As we left the shore, the land looked more fertile: we found many unfamiliar trees that didn’t bear fruit, but some were adorned with beautiful flowers. Ernest was in his element, wanting to collect and examine everything to figure out their names, either by comparing them to other plants or from descriptions he had read. He thought he recognized the melaleuca, several types of mimosa, and the Virginian pine, which has the largest and thickest branches. We loaded ourselves with as much as we could carry, and after two or three trips, we had gathered enough to cover the boat and create a shelter for ourselves if we had to spend the night on shore. I had instructed my sons to return before nightfall at all costs; if there was even a hint of hope, one of them was to run back quickly to inform us. My biggest worry was that they might get lost in this unfamiliar land: they could come across lakes, marshes, or confusing forests. Every moment, I was anxious about some new danger, and no day ever felt so long. Ernest did his best to comfort and encourage me, but his youthful optimism kept him from dwelling too long on any troubling thoughts. He kept himself busy looking for various marine life on the rocks: seaweed, brightly colored mosses, and different kinds of zoophytes caught his interest. He brought them to me, wishing he could preserve them.

“Oh! if my dear mother could see them,” said he, “or if Fritz could paint them, how they would amuse Francis!”

“Oh! if my dear mother could see them,” he said, “or if Fritz could paint them, how much fun they would be for Francis!”

This recalled our sorrows, and my uneasiness increased.

This brought back our sadness, and my anxiety grew.


CHAPTER L.

All was so still around us, and our pinnace was so completely hidden with its canopy of verdure, that I could not help regretting that I had not accompanied my sons. It was now too late, but my steps involuntarily turned to the road I had seen them take, Ernest remaining on the rocks in search of natural curiosities; but I was suddenly recalled by a cry from Ernest—

All was so quiet around us, and our small boat was so completely covered with greenery that I couldn't help but wish I had gone with my sons. It was too late now, but my feet instinctively moved towards the path I had seen them take, while Ernest stayed behind on the rocks looking for interesting natural things; but I was suddenly brought back by a shout from Ernest—

“Father, a canoe! a canoe!”

“Dad, a canoe! a canoe!”

“Alas! is it not ours?” I said, rushing to the shore, where, indeed, I saw beyond the reefs a canoe, floating lightly, apparently filled with the islanders, easy to distinguish from their dark complexion. This canoe did not resemble ours; it was longer, narrower, and seemed to be composed of long strips of bark, quite rough, tied together at each end, which gave somewhat of a graceful form to it, though it evidently belonged to the infancy of the art of navigation. It is almost inconceivable how these frail barks resist the slightest storm; but these islanders swim so well, that even if the canoe fills, they jump out, empty it, and take their places again. When landed, one or two men take up the canoe and carry it to their habitation. This, however, appeared to be provided with out-riggers, to preserve the equilibrium, and six savages, with a sort of oars, made it fly like the wind. When it passed the part of the island where we were, we hailed it as loudly as we could; the savages answered by frightful cries, but showed no intention of approaching us or entering the bay; on the contrary, they went on with great rapidity, continuing their cries. I followed them with my eyes as far as I could in speechless emotion; for either my fancy deceived me, or I faintly distinguished a form of fairer complexion than the dark-hued beings who surrounded him—features or dress I could not see; on the whole, it was a vague impression, that I trembled alike to believe or to doubt. Ernest, more active than I, had climbed a sand-bank, and, with his telescope, had commanded a better view of the canoe. He watched it round a point of land, and then came down almost as much agitated as myself. I ran to him and said—

"Is that ours?" I exclaimed, rushing to the shore, where I spotted a canoe floating lightly beyond the reefs, seemingly filled with islanders, easily recognizable by their dark skin. This canoe didn’t look like ours; it was longer, narrower, and appeared to be made of long strips of bark, quite rough, tied together at each end, giving it a somewhat graceful shape, though it clearly belonged to the early stages of boat-making. It’s almost unbelievable how these fragile crafts withstand even the slightest storms; but these islanders are such good swimmers that if the canoe fills up, they just jump out, empty it, and hop back in. Once ashore, one or two men pick up the canoe and carry it to their home. However, this one seemed to have outriggers for stability, and six islanders, using a kind of oars, made it fly across the water. When it passed our part of the island, we called out to it as loudly as we could; the islanders responded with terrifying cries but showed no intention of coming closer or entering the bay; instead, they sped away, still shouting. I watched them go with a mix of speechless emotion; for either my imagination was playing tricks on me, or I faintly made out a figure with lighter skin among the dark-skinned people around him—though I couldn’t see any details of his features or clothing; it was all a vague impression that made me tremble whether to believe or doubt. Ernest, more agile than I was, had climbed a sandbank and, using his telescope, had a better view of the canoe. He followed it around a point of land and then came down looking nearly as agitated as I was. I rushed to him and said—

“Ernest, was it your mother?”

“Ernest, was that your mom?”

“No, papa; I am certain it was not my mother,” said he. “Neither was it Francis.”

"No, Dad; I'm sure it wasn't my mom," he said. "And it definitely wasn't Francis."

Here he was silent: a cold shuddering came over me.

Here he was quiet: a cold shiver ran through me.

“Why are you silent?” said I; “what do you think?”

“Why are you quiet?” I asked; “what are you thinking?”

“Indeed, papa, I could distinguish nothing,” said he, “even with the telescope, they passed so quickly. Would that it were my mother and brother, we should then be sure they were living, and might follow them. But a thought strikes me: let us free the pinnace, and sail after the canoe. We can go quicker than they with the sail; we shall overtake them behind the cape, and then we shall at least be satisfied.”

“Honestly, Dad, I couldn’t see anything,” he said, “even with the telescope, they moved by too fast. If only it were my mom and brother, then we would know they’re alive and could follow them. But I just had an idea: let’s get the small boat ready and chase after the canoe. We can go faster with the sail; we’ll catch up to them around the cape, and then we’ll at least feel better about it.”

I hesitated, lest my sons should come back; but Ernest represented to me that we were only fulfilling the wishes of Fritz; besides, we should return in a short time; he added, that he would soon disencumber the pinnace.

I hesitated, worried that my sons might come back; but Ernest pointed out that we were just fulfilling Fritz's wishes; besides, we would be back soon; he added that he would quickly clear the pinnace.

“Soon,” cried I, “when we have been at least two hours in covering it.”

“Soon,” I shouted, “once we’ve spent at least two hours getting through it.”

“Yes,” said he; “but we had a dozen journeys to make to the trees then; I will have it ready in less than half an hour.”

“Yes,” he said; “but we had a dozen trips to make to the trees then; I’ll have it ready in less than half an hour.”

I assisted him as actively as I could, though not with good heart, for I was uneasy about abandoning my sons. I would have given worlds to see them arrive before our departure; to have their assistance, which was of much consequence in the pinnace, and to know they were safe. I often left off my work to take a glance into the interior of the island, hoping to see them. Frequently I mistook the trees in the twilight, which was now coming on, for moving objects. At last, I was not deceived, I saw distinctly a figure walking rapidly.

I helped him as much as I could, but I didn’t feel great about it because I was worried about leaving my sons behind. I would have done anything just to see them arrive before we left; having their help would have been really important on the small boat, and I wanted to know they were safe. I often paused my work to look toward the inside of the island, hoping to catch a glimpse of them. Many times, I mistook the trees in the twilight, which was setting in, for figures moving. Finally, I wasn’t mistaken anymore; I clearly saw someone walking quickly.

“They are here!” I cried, running forward, followed by Ernest; and we soon saw a dark-coloured figure approaching. I concluded it was a savage, and, though disappointed, was not alarmed, as he was alone. I stopped, and begged Ernest to recollect all the words he had met with in his books, of the language of the savages. The black man approached; and conceive my surprise when I heard him cry, in my own language—

“They're here!” I shouted, running ahead, followed by Ernest; and we quickly spotted a dark figure coming towards us. I assumed it was a savage, and although I felt let down, I wasn't scared since he was by himself. I paused and asked Ernest to remember all the words he'd learned in his books about the language of the savages. The black man came closer, and imagine my surprise when I heard him shout, in my own language—

“Don’t be alarmed, father, it is I, your son Fritz.”

“Don’t worry, Dad, it’s me, your son Fritz.”

“Is it possible,” said I; “can I believe it? and Jack? What have you done with my Jack? Where is he? Speak....”

“Is it possible,” I said; “can I really believe this? And Jack? What have you done with my Jack? Where is he? Tell me....”

Ernest did not ask. Alas! he knew too well; he had seen with his telescope that it was his dear brother Jack that was in the canoe with the savages; but he had not dared to tell me. I was in agony. Fritz, harassed with fatigue, and overwhelmed with grief, sunk down on the ground.

Ernest didn’t ask. Unfortunately, he knew too well; he had seen through his telescope that it was his beloved brother Jack in the canoe with the savages, but he hadn’t dared to tell me. I was in agony. Fritz, worn out and overwhelmed with grief, collapsed on the ground.

“Oh father!” said he, sobbing, “I dread to appear before you without my brother! I have lost him. Can you ever forgive your unfortunate Fritz?”

“Oh Dad!” he said, crying, “I’m so afraid to face you without my brother! I’ve lost him. Can you ever forgive your unlucky Fritz?”

“Oh yes, yes; we are all equally unfortunate,” cried I, sinking down beside my son, while Ernest seated himself on the other side to support me. I then besought Fritz to tell me if the savages had murdered my dear boy. He assured me that he was not killed, but carried off by the savages; still he hoped he was safe. Ernest then told me he had seen him seated in the canoe, apparently without clothes, but not stained black as Fritz was.

“Oh yes, yes; we’re all equally unfortunate,” I said, sinking down next to my son, while Ernest sat on the other side to support me. I then asked Fritz to tell me if the savages had murdered my dear boy. He assured me that he wasn’t killed, but was taken by the savages; still, he hoped he was safe. Ernest then told me he had seen him sitting in the canoe, apparently without clothes, but not painted black like Fritz was.

“I earnestly wish he had been,” said Fritz; to that I attribute my escape. But I am truly thankful to God that you have seen him, Ernest. “Which way have the monsters gone?”

“I really wish he had been,” said Fritz; I credit my escape to that. But I am genuinely thankful to God that you’ve seen him, Ernest. “Which way did the monsters go?”

Ernest pointed out the cape, and Fritz was anxious that we should embark without delay, and endeavour to snatch him from them.

Ernest pointed out the cape, and Fritz was eager for us to set sail immediately and try to rescue him from them.

“And have you learned nothing of your mother and Francis?” said I.

“And have you learned nothing about your mother and Francis?” I asked.

“Alas! nothing,” said he; “though I think I recognized a handkerchief, belonging to dear mamma, on the head of a savage. I will tell you all my adventure as we go. You forgive me, dear father?”

“Unfortunately, nothing,” he said; “but I think I saw a handkerchief that belonged to dear mom on the head of a savage. I’ll tell you all about my adventure as we walk. You forgive me, dear father?”

“Yes, my dear son,” said I; “I forgive and pity you; but are you sure my wife and Francis are not on the island?”

“Yes, my dear son,” I said; “I forgive you and feel sorry for you; but are you sure my wife and Francis aren’t on the island?”

“Quite sure,” said he. “In fact the island is entirely uninhabited; there is no fresh water, nor game, and no quadrupeds whatever, but rats and kangaroos; but plenty of fruit. I have filled my bag with bread-fuit, which is all we shall need: let us go.”

“Absolutely,” he said. “In fact, the island is completely uninhabited; there’s no fresh water, no game, and no land animals at all, just rats and kangaroos; but there’s plenty of fruit. I’ve filled my bag with breadfruit, which is all we’ll need: let’s go.”

We worked so hard, that in a quarter of an hour the branches were removed, and the pinnace ready to receive us. The wind was favourable for carrying us towards the cape the savages had turned; we hoisted our sail, I took my place at the helm; the sea was calm, and the moon lighted our way. After recommending ourselves to the protection of God, I desired Fritz to commence his melancholy recital.

We worked so hard that in just fifteen minutes the branches were cleared, and the small boat was ready for us. The wind was in our favor, pushing us toward the cape the natives had passed. We raised our sail, and I took my position at the helm; the sea was calm, and the moon lit our path. After asking for God's protection, I requested Fritz to start his sad story.

“It will be melancholy, indeed,” said the poor boy, weeping; “if we do not find my dear Jack, I shall never forgive myself for not having stained his skin before my own; then he should have been with you now—”

“It will be really sad,” said the poor boy, crying; “if we don’t find my dear Jack, I’ll never forgive myself for not having marked his skin before my own; then he would be with you now—”

“But I have you, my dear son, to console your father,” said I. “I can do nothing myself, in my sorrow. I depend on you, my two eldest, to restore to me what I have lost. Go on, Fritz.”

“But I have you, my dear son, to comfort your father,” I said. “I can't do anything myself in my sadness. I rely on you, my two oldest, to bring back what I've lost. Go on, Fritz.”

“We went on,” continued he, “with courage and hope; and as we proceeded, we felt that you were right in saying we ought not to judge of the island by the borders. You can form no idea of the fertility of the island, or of the beauty of the trees and shrubs we met with at every step, quite unknown to me; some were covered with fragrant flowers, others with tempting fruits; which, however, we did not venture to taste, as we had not Knips to try them.”

“We kept going,” he continued, “with courage and hope; and as we moved forward, we realized you were right when you said we shouldn’t judge the island by its edges. You can’t imagine the island's fertility, or the beauty of the trees and shrubs we encountered at every turn, which were completely new to me; some were adorned with fragrant flowers, while others had tempting fruits, but we didn’t dare to try them since we didn’t have Knips to test them.”

“Did you see any monkeys?” asked Ernest.

“Did you see any monkeys?” Ernest asked.

“Not one,” replied his brother, “to the great vexation of Jack; but we saw parrots, and all sorts of birds of the most splendid plumage. Whilst we were remarking these creatures, I did not neglect to look carefully about for any trace that might aid our search. I saw no hut, no sort of dwelling, nor anything that could indicate that the island was inhabited, and not the slightest appearance of fresh water; and we should have been tormented with thirst if we had not found some cocoa-nuts containing milk, and an acid fruit, full of juice, which we have in our own island—Ernest calls it the carambolier; we quenched our thirst with this, as well as with the plant, which we also have, and which contains water in the stem. The country is flat and open, and its beautiful trees stand at such a distance from each other, that no one could hide amongst them. But if we found no dwellings, we often discovered traces of the savages,—extinguished fires, remains of kangaroos and of fish, cocoa-nut shells, and even entire nuts, which we secured for ourselves; we remarked, also, footmarks on the sand. We both wished anxiously to meet with a savage, that we might endeavour to make him comprehend, by signs, whom we were in search of, hoping that natural affection might have some influence even with these untaught creatures. I was only fearful that my dress and the colour of my skin might terrify them. In the mean time, Jack, with his usual rashness, had climbed to the summit of one of the tallest trees, and suddenly cried out, ‘Fritz, prepare your signs, the savages are landing. Oh! what black ugly creatures they are, and nearly naked! you ought to dress yourself like them, to make friends with them. You can stain your skin with these,’ throwing me down branches of a sort of fruit of a dark purple colour, large as a plum, with a skin like the mulberry. ‘I have been tasting them, they are very nauseous, and they have stained my fingers black; rub yourself well with the juice of this fruit, and you will be a perfect savage,’

“Not one,” his brother replied, “which really annoyed Jack, but we did see parrots and all kinds of birds with the most amazing feathers. While we were spotting these creatures, I kept an eye out for anything that could help our search. I didn’t see any huts, any kind of shelter, or anything that indicated the island was inhabited, and there was no sign of fresh water; we would have been really thirsty if we hadn’t found some coconuts with milk, and an acidic fruit, full of juice, which we have back home—Ernest calls it the carambolier; we drank that, along with another plant we also have that has water in its stem. The landscape is flat and open, with beautiful trees spaced so far apart that no one could hide among them. But while we didn’t find any dwellings, we often came across signs of the savages—extinguished fires, remains of kangaroos and fish, coconut shells, and even whole coconuts, which we took for ourselves; we also noticed footprints in the sand. We both really wanted to encounter a savage so we could try to communicate, by signs, who we were looking for, hoping that natural affection might resonate even with these untrained beings. I was only worried that my clothing and skin color might scare them. Meanwhile, Jack, being his usual reckless self, had climbed to the top of one of the tallest trees and suddenly shouted, ‘Fritz, get ready with your signs, the savages are coming ashore. Oh! What black, ugly creatures they are, and nearly naked! You should dress like them to befriend them. You can dye your skin with these,’ and he tossed me down branches from a dark purple fruit, about the size of a plum, with skin like a mulberry. ‘I tried them, they taste terrible, and they've stained my fingers black; rub yourself well with the juice from this fruit, and you'll be a perfect savage,’”

“I agreed immediately. He descended from the tree while I undressed, and with his assistance I stained myself from head to foot, as you see me; but don’t be alarmed, a single dip in the sea will make me a European again. The good-natured Jack then helped to dress me in a sort of tunic made of large leaves, and laughed heartily when he looked at me, calling me Omnibou, of whom he had seen a picture, which he declared I exactly resembled. I then wished to disguise him in the same way, but he would not consent; he declared that, when he met with mamma and Francis, he should fly to embrace them, and that he should alarm and disgust them in such a costume. He said I could protect him if the savages wished to devour him: they were now at hand, and we went forward, Jack following me with my bundle of clothes under his arm. I had slung my kangaroo-skin bag of powder and provision on my shoulders, and I was glad to see that most of the savages wore the skin of that animal, for the most part spread out like a mantle over their shoulders; few of them had other clothes, excepting one, who appeared to be the chief, and had a tunic of green rushes, neatly woven. I tried to recollect all the words of savage language I could, but very few occurred to me. I said at first ‘tayo, tayo’. I don’t know whether they comprehended me, but they paid me great attention, evidently taking me for a savage; only one of them wished to seize my gun; but I held it firmly, and on the chief speaking a word to him, he drew back. They spoke very rapidly, and I saw by their looks they spoke about us; they looked incessantly at Jack, repeating, ‘To maiti tata.’ Jack imitated all their motions, and made some grimaces which seemed to amuse them. I tried in vain to attract their attention. I had observed a handkerchief twisted round the head of him who seemed the chief, that reminded me much of the one my mother usually wore. I approached him, touched the handkerchief, saying expressively, ‘Metoua aîné mère, et tata frère;’ I added, pointing to the sea, ‘pay canot.’ But, alas! they did not appear to understand my words. The chief thought I wished to rob him of his handkerchief, and repelled me roughly. I then wished to retire, and I told Jack to follow me; but four islanders seized him, opened his waistcoat and shirt, and cried out together, ‘Alea téa tata.’ In an instant he was stripped, and his clothes and mine were put on in a strange fashion by the savages. Jack, mimicking all their contortions, recovered his shirt from one of them, put it on, and began to dance, calling on me to do the same, and, in a tone as if singing, repeated, ‘Make your escape, Fritz, while I am amusing them; I will then run off and join you very soon,’ As if I could for a moment think of leaving him in the hands of these barbarians! However, I recollected at that moment the bag you had given me of toys and trinkets; we had thoughtlessly left it under the great tree where I had undressed. I told Jack, in the same tone, I would fetch it, if he could amuse the savages till I returned, which he might be certain would be very soon. I ran off with all speed, and without opposition arrived at the tree, found my bag well guarded, indeed, father; for what was my surprise to find our two faithful dogs, Turk and Flora, sitting over it.”

“I immediately agreed. He climbed down from the tree while I took off my clothes, and with his help, I covered myself from head to toe, just like you see now; but don’t worry, a quick dip in the sea will turn me back into a European. The cheerful Jack then helped me put on a kind of tunic made of large leaves and laughed heartily when he looked at me, calling me Omnibou, of someone he had seen in a picture, which he said I looked just like. I then wanted to dress him up in the same way, but he refused; he insisted that when he saw mama and Francis, he'd want to run over and hug them, and he would scare and disgust them in that outfit. He said I could protect him if the savages wanted to eat him; they were nearby, so we moved forward, Jack trailing behind me with my bundle of clothes under his arm. I had thrown my kangaroo-skin bag of powder and supplies over my shoulders, and I was glad to see that most of the savages wore the skin of that animal, mostly slung like a cloak over their shoulders; few wore anything else, except one who seemed to be the chief and had a tunic made of neatly woven green rushes. I tried to remember all the savage words I could, but only a few came to mind. I started with ‘tayo, tayo.’ I don't know if they understood me, but they paid me a lot of attention, clearly thinking I was one of them; only one of them tried to grab my gun, but I held on tight, and when the chief said something to him, he backed off. They spoke very quickly, and I could tell they were talking about us; they kept looking at Jack, repeating, ‘To maiti tata.’ Jack copied all their movements and made some funny faces that seemed to amuse them. I tried unsuccessfully to get their attention. I noticed a handkerchief wrapped around the head of the one who looked like the chief, which reminded me a lot of the one my mother often wore. I approached him, touched the handkerchief, and said meaningfully, ‘Metoua aîné mère, et tata frère;’ I added, pointing to the sea, ‘pay canot.’ But, sadly, they didn’t seem to understand me. The chief thought I wanted to steal his handkerchief and pushed me away roughly. I then wanted to leave, and I told Jack to follow me; but four islanders grabbed him, opened his waistcoat and shirt, and all shouted, ‘Alea téa tata.’ In an instant, they stripped him, and his clothes and mine were put on in a strange way by the savages. Jack, mimicking all their moves, reclaimed his shirt from one of them, put it on, and started dancing, calling for me to join him, and in a singing tone, repeated, ‘Make your escape, Fritz, while I entertain them; I’ll catch up with you very soon.’ As if I could ever consider leaving him with these savages! However, at that moment, I remembered the bag of toys and trinkets you had given me; we had carelessly left it under the big tree where I had undressed. I told Jack, in the same tone, that I would get it if he could keep the savages entertained until I returned, which would definitely be very soon. I dashed off quickly, and without any trouble reached the tree, found my bag well protected, indeed, father; for what surprised me was to see our two loyal dogs, Turk and Flora, sitting over it.”

“Flora!” cried I, “she accompanied my dear wife and child into their captivity; they must be in this island—why have we left it!”

“Flora!” I shouted, “she went with my dear wife and child into their captivity; they must be on this island—why did we leave it!”

“My dear father,” continued Fritz, “depend on it, they are not there; but I feel convinced that the wretches who have carried off Jack, hold dear mamma and Francis in captivity; therefore we must, at all events, pursue them. The meeting between Flora and me was truly joyful, for I was now convinced that my mother and Francis were not far off, though certainly not on the same island, or their attached friend would not have quitted them. I concluded that the chief who had taken my mamma’s handkerchief had also taken her dog, and brought her on this excursion, and that she had here met with her friend Turk, who had rambled from us.

“My dear father,” Fritz continued, “you can count on it, they’re not there; but I’m convinced that the scoundrels who kidnapped Jack have our dear mom and Francis held captive. So we have to pursue them, no matter what. The reunion between Flora and me was truly joyous because I was sure that my mom and Francis weren’t far away, even though they were definitely not on the same island; otherwise, their loyal friend wouldn’t have left them. I figured that the chief who took my mom’s handkerchief also took her dog and brought her on this trip, and that she ran into her friend Turk, who had wandered away from us.”

“After caressing Flora, and taking up my bag, I ran off full speed to the spot where my dear Jack was trying to divert the barbarians. As I approached, I heard cries,—not the noisy laughter of the savages, but cries of distress from my beloved brother,—cries for help, addressed to me. I did not walk—I flew till I reached the spot, and I then saw him bound with a sort of strong cord, made of gut; his hands were fastened behind his back, his legs tied together, and these cruel men were carrying him towards their canoe, while he was crying out, ‘Fritz, Fritz, where are you?’ I threw myself desperately on the six men who were bearing him off. In the struggle, my gun, which I held in my hand, caught something, and accidentally went off, and—O, father, it was my own dear Jack that I wounded! I cannot tell how I survived his cry of ‘You have killed me!’ And when I saw his blood flow, my senses forsook me, and I fainted. When I recovered, I was alone; they had carried him off. I rose, and following the traces of his blood, arrived fortunately at the shore just as they were embarking. God permitted me to see him again, supported by one of the savages, and even to hear his feeble voice cry, ‘Console yourself, Fritz, I am not dead; I am only wounded in the shoulder; it is not your fault; go, my kind brother, as quick as possible to papa, and you will both’—the canoe sailed away so swiftly, that I heard no more; but I understood the rest—‘you will both come and rescue me.’ But will there be time? Will they dress his wound? Oh! father, what have I done! Can you forgive me?”

“After hugging Flora and grabbing my bag, I sprinted as fast as I could to the place where my dear Jack was trying to fend off the attackers. As I got closer, I heard screams—not the loud laughter of the savages, but cries of distress from my beloved brother—calls for help directed at me. I didn’t just walk, I raced until I reached him, only to find him tied up with some kind of strong cord, made from gut; his hands were secured behind his back, his legs were bound together, and those cruel men were dragging him toward their canoe while he cried out, ‘Fritz, Fritz, where are you?’ I threw myself desperately at the six men who were taking him away. During the struggle, my gun, which I was holding, snagged on something and went off by accident, and—oh, father, it was my own dear Jack that I shot! I can’t describe how I survived his cry of ‘You have killed me!’ When I saw his blood flow, I lost all my senses and fainted. When I came to, I was alone; they had taken him away. I stood up and, following the trail of his blood, arrived just in time at the shore as they were getting in the canoe. God allowed me to see him again, supported by one of the savages, and I even heard his weak voice say, ‘Don’t worry, Fritz, I’m not dead; I’m just wounded in the shoulder; it’s not your fault; go, my kind brother, as quickly as you can to papa, and you will both’—the canoe moved away so quickly that I couldn’t hear more, but I understood the rest—‘you will both come and rescue me.’ But will there be enough time? Will they take care of his wound? Oh! father, what have I done! Can you forgive me?”

Overwhelmed with grief, I could only hold out my hand to my poor boy, and assure him I could not possibly blame him for this distressing accident.

Overwhelmed with grief, I could only reach out my hand to my poor boy and assure him that I couldn't possibly blame him for this heartbreaking accident.

Ernest, though greatly afflicted, endeavoured to console his brother; he told him a wound in the shoulder was not dangerous, and the savages certainly intended to dress his wound, or they would have left him to die. Fritz, somewhat comforted, begged me to allow him to bathe, to divest himself of the colouring, which was now become odious to him, as being that of these ruthless barbarians. I was reluctant to consent; I thought it might still be useful, in gaining access to the savages; but he was certain they would recognize him in that disguise as the bearer of the thunder, and would distrust him. I now recollected to ask what had become of his gun, and was sorry to learn that they had carried it off whilst he lay insensible; he himself considered that it would be useless to them, as they had fortunately left him the bag of ammunition. Ernest, however, regretted the loss to ourselves, this being the third we had lost—the one we had left in the canoe being also in the possession of the savages. The dogs we missed, too, and Fritz could give no account of them; we concluded they had either followed the savages, or were still in the island. This was another severe sorrow; it seemed as if every sort of misfortune was poured out upon us. I rested on the shoulder of Ernest in my anguish. Fritz took advantage of my silence, and leaped out of the pinnace to have a bath. I was alarmed at first; but he was such an excellent swimmer, and the sea was so calm, that I soon abandoned my fears for him.

Ernest, despite being in a lot of pain, tried to comfort his brother. He told him that a shoulder wound wasn’t serious and that the savages must have meant to treat him, or they would have left him to die. Fritz, feeling a bit better, asked me if he could take a bath to wash off the paint, which he now found repulsive because it reminded him of those ruthless savages. I hesitated to agree; I thought it might still help us get close to the savages. But he was sure they would see through the disguise and recognize him as the bearer of the thunder, making them wary of him. I then remembered to ask what had happened to his gun and felt sorry when I found out they had taken it while he was unconscious; he thought it would be useless to them since they had luckily left him with the bag of ammunition. However, Ernest regretted the loss for our sake, as this was the third gun we had lost—the one we left in the canoe was also in the hands of the savages. We missed the dogs too, and Fritz couldn’t tell us where they were; we assumed they had either followed the savages or were still on the island. This was yet another heavy burden; it felt like every type of misfortune was hitting us. I leaned on Ernest's shoulder in my distress. Fritz took advantage of my silence and jumped out of the boat for a bath. I felt alarmed at first, but he was such a good swimmer, and the sea was so calm that I soon let go of my worries for him.


CHAPTER LI.

Fritz was now swimming far before us, and appeared to have no idea of turning, so that I was at once certain he projected swimming on to the point where we had lost sight of the savages, to be the first to discover and aid his brother. Although he was an excellent swimmer, yet the distance was so great, that I was much alarmed; and especially for his arrival by night in the midst of the savages. This fear was much increased by a very extraordinary sound, which we now heard gradually approaching us; it was a sort of submarine tempest. The weather was beautiful; there was no wind, the moon shone in a cloudless sky, yet the waves were swollen as if by a storm, and threatened to swallow us; we heard at the same time a noise like violent rain. Terrified at these phenomena, I cried out aloud for Fritz to return; and though it was almost impossible my voice could reach him, we saw him swimming towards us with all his strength. Ernest and I used all our power in rowing to meet him, so that we soon got to him. The moment he leaped in, he uttered in a stifled voice, pointing to the mountains of waves, “They are enormous marine monsters! whales, I believe! such an immense shoal! They will swallow us up!”

Fritz was now swimming far ahead of us and seemed completely unaware of the need to turn back. I was certain he intended to swim all the way to the spot where we had lost sight of the savages, hoping to be the first to find and help his brother. Even though he was a great swimmer, the distance was so vast that I became very worried, especially about him arriving at night in the middle of the savages. My anxiety grew when we began to hear an unusual sound getting closer; it was like an underwater storm. The weather was perfect, with no wind and the moon shining in a cloudless sky, yet the waves were rising as if there was a storm and looked like they might engulf us. At the same time, we heard a noise like heavy rain. Terrified by these strange occurrences, I shouted for Fritz to come back. Although it seemed unlikely my voice could reach him, we saw him swimming toward us with all his might. Ernest and I used all our strength to row to meet him, and we quickly reached him. The moment he jumped in, he gasped out, pointing to the towering waves, “They are enormous sea monsters! Whales, I think! Such a massive group! They’re going to swallow us whole!”

“No,” said Ernest, quietly; “don’t be alarmed; the whale is a gentle and harmless animal, when not attacked. I am very glad to see them so near. We shall pass as quietly through the midst of these colossal creatures, as we did through the shining zoophytes: doubtless the whales are searching for them, for they constitute a principal article of their food.”

“No,” Ernest said softly, “don’t be scared; the whale is a gentle and harmless animal when it’s not provoked. I’m really happy to see them up close. We’ll glide through these massive creatures as smoothly as we did through the glowing zoophytes: the whales are probably looking for them since they’re a main part of their diet.”

They were now very near us, sporting on the surface of the water, or plunging into its abysses, and forcing out columns of water through their nostrils to a great height, which occasionally fell on us, and wetted us. Sometimes they raised themselves on their huge tail, and looked like giants ready to fall on us and crush us; then they went down again into the water, which foamed under their immense weight. Then they seemed to be going through some military evolutions, advancing in a single line, like a body of regular troops, one after another swimming with grave dignity; still more frequently they were in lines of two and two. This wonderful sight partly diverted us from our own melancholy thoughts. Fritz had, however, seized his oar, without giving himself time to dress, whilst I, at the rudder, steered as well as I could through these monsters, who are, notwithstanding their appearance, the mildest animals that exist. They allowed us to pass so closely, that we were wetted with the water they spouted up, and might have touched them; and with the power to overturn us with a stroke of their tail, they never noticed us; they seemed to be satisfied with each other’s society. We were truly sorry to see their mortal enemy appear amongst them, the sword-fish of the south, armed with its long saw, remarkable for a sort of fringe of nine or ten inches long, which distinguishes it from the sword-fish of the north. They are both terrible enemies to the whale, and next to man, who wages an eternal war with them, its most formidable foes. The whales in our South Seas had only the sword-fish to dread; as soon as they saw him approach, they dispersed, or dived into the depths of the ocean. One only, very near us, did not succeed in escaping, and we witnessed a combat, of which, however, we could not see the event. These two monsters attacked each other with equal ferocity; but as they took an opposite direction to that we were going, we soon lost sight of them, but we shall never forget our meeting with these wonderful giants of the deep.

They were now very close to us, playing on the surface of the water or diving into its depths, shooting up columns of water through their nostrils to great heights, which sometimes fell on us and soaked us. Occasionally, they would lift themselves on their massive tails, looking like giants ready to crush us; then they would submerge again, creating foam under their immense weight. They seemed to be performing some sort of military maneuvers, moving in a single line like a group of disciplined soldiers, one after another, swimming with serious grace; even more often, they swam in pairs. This amazing sight partly distracted us from our own sad thoughts. Fritz, however, grabbed his oar without bothering to get dressed, while I, at the rudder, navigated as best I could through these creatures, who, despite their appearance, are among the gentlest animals on the planet. They let us pass so closely that we got splashed by the water they spouted, and we could have reached out to touch them; yet, despite their ability to capsize us with a flick of their tail, they paid us no mind, seeming content with each other’s company. We were truly saddened to see their mortal enemy, the southern swordfish, armed with its long saw and notable for a fringe of nine or ten inches that sets it apart from the northern swordfish. Both are fierce foes of the whale, and next to humans, who constantly hunt them, they are the most dangerous enemies. The whales in our southern seas only needed to fear the swordfish; as soon as they spotted one approaching, they scattered or dove deep into the ocean. One whale, very close to us, didn’t manage to escape, and we witnessed a battle, although we couldn’t see the outcome. These two beasts fought each other with equal intensity, but since they swam away in the opposite direction from where we were heading, we soon lost sight of them. However, we'll never forget our encounter with these incredible giants of the deep.

We happily doubled the promontory behind which the canoe had passed, and found ourselves in an extensive gulf, which narrowed as it entered the land, and resembled the mouth of a river. We did not hesitate to follow its course. We went round the bay, but found no traces of man, but numerous herds of the amphibious animal, called sometimes the sea-lion, the sea-dog, or the sea-elephant, or trunked phoca: modern voyagers give it the last name. These animals, though of enormous size, are gentle and peaceful, unless roused by the cruelty of man. They were in such numbers on this desert coast, that they would have prevented our approach if we had intended it. They actually covered the beach and the rocks, opening their huge mouths, armed with very sharp teeth, more frightful than dangerous. As it was night when we entered the bay, they were all sleeping, but they produced a most deafening noise with their breathing. We left them to their noisy slumber; for us, alas! no such comfort remained. The continual anxiety attending an affliction like ours destroys all repose, and for three days we had not slept an hour. Since the new misfortune of Jack’s captivity, we were all kept up by a kind of fever. Fritz was in a most incredible state of excitement, and declared he would never sleep till he had rescued his beloved brother. His bath had partially removed the colouring from his skin, but he was still dark enough to pass for a savage, when arrayed like them. The shores of the strait we were navigating were very steep, and we had yet not met with any place where we could land; however, my sons persisted in thinking the savages could have taken no other route, as they had lost sight of their canoe round the promontory. As the strait was narrow and shallow, I consented that Fritz should throw off the clothes he had on, and swim to reconnoitre a place which seemed to be an opening in the rocks or hills that obstructed our passage, and we soon had the pleasure of seeing him standing on the shore, motioning for us to approach. The strait was now so confined, that we could not have proceeded any further with the pinnace; we could not even bring it to the shore. Ernest and I were obliged to step into the water up to the waist; but we took the precaution to tie a long and strong rope to the prow, and when we were aided by the vigorous arm of Fritz, we soon drew the pinnace near enough to fix it by means of the anchor.

We happily doubled the promontory behind which the canoe had passed and found ourselves in a large bay that narrowed as it went inland, resembling the mouth of a river. We didn’t hesitate to follow its path. We went around the bay but found no signs of people, just lots of amphibious animals, sometimes called sea lions, sea dogs, or sea elephants, with modern explorers using the last name. Despite their massive size, these animals are gentle and peaceful unless provoked by human cruelty. They were so numerous on this deserted coast that they would have blocked our approach if we had tried. They completely covered the beach and the rocks, opening their huge mouths with very sharp teeth, more terrifying than dangerous. Since it was night when we entered the bay, they were all sleeping, but they made a deafening noise with their breathing. We left them to their noisy slumber; unfortunately, we had no such comfort. The constant worry from our situation destroyed any chance of rest, and for three days, we hadn’t slept more than an hour. Since the new misfortune of Jack’s captivity, we were all kept awake by a kind of fever. Fritz was extremely agitated and declared he wouldn’t sleep until he rescued his beloved brother. His bath had partially washed away the color from his skin, but he was still dark enough to be mistaken for a savage when dressed like them. The shores of the strait we were navigating were steep, and we hadn’t found a place to land yet; however, my sons insisted that the savages couldn’t have taken any other route since they had lost sight of their canoe around the promontory. Since the strait was narrow and shallow, I allowed Fritz to take off his clothes and swim to check out a spot that looked like an opening in the rocks or hills blocking our way, and soon we were pleased to see him standing on the shore, signaling us to come closer. The strait was now so restricted that we couldn’t go any further with the boat; we couldn’t even bring it to shore. Ernest and I had to wade into the water up to our waists, but we took the precaution of tying a long, strong rope to the front of the boat, and with Fritz's strong help, we quickly pulled the boat close enough to secure it with the anchor.

There were neither trees nor rocks on that desert shore to which we could fasten the pinnace; but, to our great delight and encouragement, we found, at a short distance from our landing-place, a bark canoe, which my sons were certain was that in which Jack had been carried off. We entered it, but at first saw only the oars; at last, however, Ernest discovered, in the water which half filled the canoe, part of a handkerchief, stained with blood, which they recognized as belonging to Jack. This discovery, which relieved our doubts, caused Fritz to shed tears of joy. We were certainly on the track of the robbers, and might trust that they had not proceeded farther with their barbarity. We found on the sand, and in the boat, some cocoa-nut shells and fish-bones, which satisfied us of the nature of their repasts. We resolved to continue our search into the interior of the country, following the traces of the steps of the savages. We could not find any traces of Jack’s foot, which would have alarmed us, if Fritz had not suggested that they had carried him, on account of his wound. We were about to set out, when the thoughts of the pinnace came over us; it was more than ever necessary for us to preserve this, our only means of return, and which moreover contained our goods for ransom, our ammunition, and our provisions, still untouched, for some bread-fruit Fritz had gathered, some mussles, and small, but excellent, oysters, had been sufficient for us. It was fortunate that we had brought some gourds of water with us, for we had not met with any. We decided that it would be necessary to leave one of our party to guard the precious pinnace, though this would be but an insufficient and dangerous defence, in case of the approach of the natives. My recent bereavements made me tremble at the idea of leaving either of my sons. I cannot yet reflect on the agony of that moment without horror—yet it was the sole means to secure our vessel; there was not a creek or a tree to hide it, and the situation of the canoe made it certain the savages must return there to embark. My children knew my thoughts, by the distracted glances with which I alternately regarded them and the pinnace, and, after consulting each other’s looks, Ernest said—

There were no trees or rocks on that desert shore where we could secure the small boat; but, to our great relief and encouragement, we found a canoe a short distance from where we landed, which my sons were sure was the one Jack had been taken away in. We got into it, but at first, all we saw were the oars; eventually, Ernest spotted part of a handkerchief stained with blood in the water that partially filled the canoe, and they recognized it as belonging to Jack. This discovery eased our worries and made Fritz cry tears of joy. We were definitely on the trail of the kidnappers, and we hoped they hadn’t gone far with their cruelty. On the sand and in the boat, we found some coconut shells and fish bones, which confirmed what they had eaten. We decided to keep searching deeper into the country, following the signs left by the savages. We couldn’t find any traces of Jack’s footprints, which would have worried us, if Fritz hadn't suggested that they carried him because of his injury. We were about to set off when we remembered the small boat; it was more important than ever to protect our only means of returning home, which also held our goods for ransom, our ammunition, and our untouched provisions, as Fritz had gathered enough breadfruit, mussels, and small but delicious oysters for us. Luckily, we had brought some gourds of water with us since we hadn’t come across any. We decided that one of us needed to stay behind to guard the precious boat, even though that would provide only a weak and risky defense if the locals arrived. My recent losses made me anxious at the thought of leaving either of my sons. I can't think about the agony of that moment without feeling terrified—yet it was the only way to protect our vessel; there wasn't a creek or tree to hide it, and the location of the canoe made it clear that the savages would likely return there to embark. My children sensed my thoughts through the distracted glances I gave between them and the boat, and after a silent consultation, Ernest said—

“The pinnace must not remain here unguarded, father, to be taken, or, at any rate, pillaged by the natives, who will return for their canoe. Either we must all wait till they come, or you must leave me to defend it. I see, Fritz, that you could not endure to remain here.”

“The small boat can’t be left here unguarded, Dad, to be stolen or, at the very least, looted by the locals who will come back for their canoe. We either all need to wait for them to show up, or you have to leave me here to protect it. I can see, Fritz, that you couldn’t stand to stay here.”

In fact, Fritz impatiently stamped with his foot, saying—

In fact, Fritz impatiently stomped his foot, saying—

“I confess, I cannot remain here; Jack may be dying of his wound, and every moment is precious. I will seek him—find him—and save him! I have a presentiment I shall; and if I discover him, as I expect, in the hands of the savages, I know the way to release him, and to prevent them carrying off our pinnace.”

“I admit, I can’t stay here; Jack might be dying from his injury, and every moment counts. I will look for him—find him—and save him! I have a feeling I will; and if I find him, as I expect, in the hands of the natives, I know how to get him free and stop them from taking our boat.”

I saw that the daring youth, in the heat of his exasperation, exposed alone to the horde of barbarians, might also become their victim. I saw that my presence was necessary to restrain and aid him; and I decided, with a heavy heart, to leave Ernest alone to protect the vessel. His calm and cool manner made it less dangerous for him to meet the natives. He knew several words of their language, and had read of the mode of addressing and conciliating them. He promised me to be prudent, which his elder brother could not be. We took the bag of toys which Fritz had brought, and left those in the chest, to use if necessary; and, praying for the blessing of Heaven on my son, we left him. My sorrow was great; but he was no longer a child, and his character encouraged me. Fritz embraced his brother, and promised him to bring Jack back in safety.

I saw that the bold young man, in his frustration, alone against the crowd of barbarians, could easily become their victim. I realized that my presence was essential to hold him back and help him; so, with a heavy heart, I decided to leave Ernest behind to protect the vessel. His calm and composed demeanor made it less risky for him to engage with the natives. He knew a few words of their language and had read about how to approach and win them over. He assured me that he would be careful, unlike his older brother. We took the bag of toys that Fritz had brought and left the rest in the chest for later use if needed; then, praying for God's blessing on my son, we departed. My sorrow was profound; but he was no longer a child, and his strength encouraged me. Fritz hugged his brother and promised to bring Jack back safely.


CHAPTER LII.

After having traversed for some time a desert, sandy plain without meeting a living creature, we arrived at a thick wood, where we lost the traces we had carefully followed. We were obliged to direct our course by chance, keeping no fixed road, but advancing as the interwoven branches permitted us. The wood was alive with the most beautiful birds of brilliant and varied plumage; but, in our anxious and distressed state, we should have been more interested in seeing a savage than a bird. We passed at last through these verdant groves, and reached an arid plain extending to the shore. We again discovered numerous footsteps; and, whilst we were observing them, we saw a large canoe pass rapidly, filled with islanders: and this time I thought that, in spite of the distance, I could recognize the canoe we had built, and which they had robbed us of. Fritz wished to swim after them, and was beginning to undress himself, and I only stopped him by declaring that if he did, I must follow him, as I had decided not to be separated from him. I even proposed that we should return to Ernest, as I was of opinion that the savages would stop at the place where we had disembarked, to take away the boat they had left, and we might then, by means of the words Ernest had acquired, learn from them what had become of my wife and children. Fritz agreed to this, though he still persisted that the easiest and quickest mode of return would have been by swimming. We were endeavouring to retrace our road, when, to our great astonishment, we saw, at a few yards’ distance, a man clothed in a long black robe advancing towards us, whom we immediately recognized as a European.

After traveling for a while through a desert, a sandy plain without encountering any living beings, we arrived at a dense forest, where we lost the tracks we had carefully followed. We had to navigate by chance, without a fixed path, moving as the tangled branches allowed us. The forest was filled with the most beautiful birds with bright, varied colors; but in our anxious and distressed state, we would have been more interested in spotting a savage than a bird. Eventually, we made it through these lush groves and reached a dry plain that stretched to the shore. We noticed numerous footprints again; while we were examining them, we saw a large canoe rushing past, packed with islanders. This time, I thought I could recognize the canoe we had built, which they had taken from us, despite the distance. Fritz wanted to swim after them and started taking off his clothes, and I only stopped him by saying that if he did, I'd have to follow him since I had decided not to be separated from him. I even suggested that we head back to Ernest because I believed the savages would linger at the spot where we had landed to take away the boat they had left, and we might then, using the words Ernest had learned, find out what had happened to my wife and kids. Fritz agreed to this, though he still insisted that swimming would have been the easiest and fastest way to return. As we were trying to retrace our steps, to our great surprise, we saw a man wearing a long black robe approaching us from just a few yards away, and we instantly recognized him as a European.

“Either I am greatly deceived,” said I, “or this is a missionary, a worthy servant of God, come into these remote regions to make Him known to the wretched idolators.”

"Either I'm seriously mistaken," I said, "or this is a missionary, a devoted servant of God, who has come to these far-off areas to share His message with the unfortunate idolaters."

We hastened to him. I was not wrong. He was one of those zealous and courageous Christians who devote their energies and their lives to the instruction and eternal salvation of men born in another hemisphere, of another colour, uncivilized, but not less our brothers. I had quitted Europe with the same intention, but Providence had ordered it otherwise; yet I met with joy one of my Christian brethren, and, unable to speak from emotion, I silently embraced him. He spoke to me in English—a language I had fortunately learned myself, and taught to my children—and his words fell on my soul like the message of the angel to Abraham, commanding him to spare his son.

We rushed over to him. I wasn't mistaken. He was one of those passionate and brave Christians who dedicate their time and lives to teaching and saving people born in another part of the world, of a different race, uncivilized, but still our brothers. I had left Europe with the same goal, but fate had other plans; still, I was happy to meet one of my Christian brothers, and, overwhelmed with emotion, I could only embrace him in silence. He spoke to me in English—a language I had fortunately learned and taught to my kids—and his words touched my soul like the angel's message to Abraham, telling him to spare his son.

“You are the person I am seeking,” said he, in a mild and tender tone, “and I thank Heaven that I have met with you. This youth is Fritz, your eldest son, I conclude; but where have you left your second son, Ernest?”

“You're the person I've been looking for,” he said in a gentle and kind tone, “and I'm grateful to have found you. This young man is Fritz, your eldest son, I assume; but where is your second son, Ernest?”

“Reverend man,” cried Fritz, seizing his hands, “you have seen my brother Jack. Perhaps my mother? You know where they are. Oh! are they living?”

“Reverend man,” cried Fritz, grabbing his hands, “you’ve seen my brother Jack. Maybe my mother? You know where they are. Oh! Are they alive?”

“Yes, they are living, and well taken care of,” said the missionary; “come, and I will lead you to them.”

“Yes, they’re alive and being well taken care of,” said the missionary. “Come, and I’ll take you to them.”

It was, indeed, necessary to lead me; I was so overcome with joy, that I should have fainted, but the good missionary made me inhale some volatile salts which he had about him; and supported by him and my son, I managed to walk. My first words were a thanksgiving to God for his mercy; then I implored my good friend to tell me if I should indeed see my wife and children again. He assured me that an hour’s walk would bring me to them; but I suddenly recollected Ernest, and refused to present myself before the beloved ones while he was still in danger. The missionary smiled, as he told me he expected this delay, and wished to know where we had left Ernest. I recounted to him our arrival in the island, and the purpose for which we had left Ernest; with our intention of returning to him as soon as we saw the canoe pass, hoping to obtain some intelligence from the savages.

I really needed someone to guide me; I was so overwhelmed with joy that I felt like I might faint. Thankfully, the good missionary made me breathe in some smelling salts he had with him, and with his help and my son’s, I managed to get up and walk. My first words were to thank God for His mercy, and then I asked my good friend if I would really see my wife and kids again. He assured me that a short walk would bring me to them, but then I suddenly remembered Ernest and refused to go see my loved ones while he was still in danger. The missionary smiled and said he expected this delay, wanting to know where we had left Ernest. I told him about our arrival on the island and why we had left Ernest, explaining our intention to return to him as soon as we saw the canoe pass, hoping to get some information from the locals.

“But how could you have made yourselves understood?” said he; “are you acquainted with their language?”

“But how could you have made yourselves understood?” he asked. “Do you know their language?”

I told him Ernest had studied the vocabulary of the South Sea islanders.

I told him Ernest had learned the vocabulary of the South Sea islanders.

“Doubtless that of Tahiti, or the Friendly Islands,” said he; “but the dialect of these islanders differs much from theirs. I have resided here more than a year, and have studied it, so may be of use to you; let us go. Which way did you come?”

“Definitely from Tahiti or the Friendly Islands,” he said. “But the language of these islanders is quite different from theirs. I've lived here for over a year and have studied it, so I could be helpful to you; let's go. Which way did you come?”

“Through that thick wood,” replied I; “where we wandered a long time; and I fear we shall have some difficulty in finding our way back.”

“Through that dense forest,” I replied; “where we explored for a long time; and I worry we’re going to have some trouble finding our way back.”

“You should have taken the precaution to notch the trees as you came,” said our worthy friend; “without that precaution, you were in danger of being lost; but we will find my marks, which will lead us to the brook, and following its course we shall be safe.”

“You should have been careful to mark the trees as you went,” said our good friend; “without that precaution, you risked getting lost; but we’ll find my marks, which will lead us to the stream, and by following its path we’ll be safe.”

“We saw no brook,” remarked Fritz.

“We didn't see any stream,” Fritz said.

“There is a brook of excellent water, which you have missed in crossing the forest; if you had ascended the course of the stream, you would have reached the hut which contains your dear friends; the brook runs before it.”

“There’s a stream of really good water that you overlooked while crossing the forest; if you had followed the flow of the water, you would have gotten to the cabin where your dear friends are; the stream flows right in front of it.”

Fritz struck his forehead with vexation.

Fritz slapped his forehead in frustration.

“God orders all for the best,” said I to the good priest; “we might not have met with you; we should have been without Ernest; you might have sought us all day in vain. Ah! good man, it is under your holy auspices that our family ought to meet, in order to increase our happiness. Now please to tell me”—

“God has a plan for everything,” I said to the kind priest; “we might never have met you; we would have been without Ernest; you could have searched for us all day without any luck. Ah! good sir, it’s under your blessed guidance that our family should come together, to enhance our happiness. Now, please tell me”—

“But first,” interrupted Fritz, “pray tell me how Jack is? He was wounded, and”—

“But first,” interrupted Fritz, “please tell me how Jack is. He was hurt, and”—

“Be composed, young man,” said the calm man of God; “the wound, which he confesses he owes to his own imprudence, will have no evil consequences; the savages had applied some healing herbs to it, but it was necessary to extract a small ball, an operation which I performed yesterday evening. Since then he suffers less; and will be soon well, when his anxiety about you is relieved.”

“Stay calm, young man,” said the composed man of God; “the injury that he admits was caused by his own carelessness won’t lead to any serious problems; the natives applied some healing herbs to it, but we needed to remove a small bullet, a procedure I did yesterday evening. Since then, he’s been in less pain and will recover soon once he’s no longer worried about you.”

Fritz embraced the kind missionary, entreating his pardon for his rashness, and adding, “Did my brother talk to you of us, sir?”

Fritz hugged the kind missionary, asking for his forgiveness for his impulsiveness, and added, “Did my brother mention us to you, sir?”

“He did,” answered his friend; “but I was acquainted with you before; your mother talked continually of her husband and children. What mingled pain and delight she felt yesterday evening when the savages brought to her dear Jack, wounded! I was fortunately in the hut to comfort her, and assist her beloved boy.”

“He did,” his friend replied; “but I knew you before; your mom always talked about her husband and kids. What a mix of pain and joy she experienced last night when the savages brought her dear Jack, wounded! I happened to be in the hut to comfort her and help her beloved boy.”

“And dear Francis,” said I, “how rejoiced he would be to see his brother again!”

“And dear Francis,” I said, “how happy he would be to see his brother again!”

“Francis,” said the missionary, smiling, “will be the protector of you all. He is the idol of the savages now; an idolatry permitted by Christianity.”

“Francis,” said the missionary, smiling, “will be your protector. He is now the idol of the savages; a worship that Christianity allows.”

We proceeded through the wood as we conversed, and at last reached the brook. I had a thousand questions to ask, and was very anxious to know how my wife and Francis had been brought to this island, and how they met with the missionary. The five or six days we had been separated seemed to me five or six months. We walked too quickly for me to get much information. The English minister said little, and referred me to my wife and son for all details. On the subject of his own noble mission he was less reserved.

We walked through the woods while chatting, and eventually reached the stream. I had a million questions I wanted to ask and was really eager to find out how my wife and Francis ended up on this island and how they met the missionary. The five or six days we had been apart felt like five or six months. We walked too fast for me to gather much information. The English minister said little and directed me to my wife and son for all the details. However, he was more open when it came to discussing his own important mission.

“Thank God,” said he, “I have already succeeded in giving this people some notions of humanity. They love their black friend, as they call me, and willingly listen to my preaching, and the singing of some hymns. When your little Francis was taken, he had his reed flageolet in his pocket, and his playing and graceful manners have so captivated them that I fear they will with reluctance resign him. The king is anxious to adopt him. But do not alarm yourself, brother; I hope to arrange all happily, with the divine assistance. I have gained some power over them, and I will avail myself of it. A year ago, I could not have answered for the life of the prisoners; now I believe them to be in safety. But how much is there yet to teach these simple children of nature, who listen only to her voice, and yield to every impression! Their first impulse is good, but they are so unsteady that affection may suddenly change to hatred; they are inclined to theft, violent in their anger, yet generous and affectionate. You will see an instance of this in the abode where a woman, more unfortunate than your wife, since she has lost her husband, has found an asylum.”

“Thank God,” he said, “I have already managed to teach these people some ideas about humanity. They love their black friend, as they call me, and they willingly listen to my sermons and the singing of some hymns. When your little Francis was taken, he had his flute in his pocket, and his playing and charming manner have captivated them so much that I worry they will be reluctant to let him go. The king is eager to adopt him. But don’t worry, brother; I hope to sort everything out well, with divine help. I’ve gained some influence over them, and I will use it. A year ago, I couldn’t have guaranteed the lives of the prisoners; now I believe they are safe. But there’s still so much to teach these simple children of nature, who listen only to her voice and react to every impression! Their first instinct is good, but they are so unpredictable that love can quickly turn to hate; they are prone to stealing, quick to anger, yet they can be generous and loving. You’ll see an example of this in the home where a woman, more unfortunate than your wife since she has lost her husband, has found refuge.”

He was silent, and I did not question him farther on this subject. We were approaching the arm of the sea where we had left our pinnace, and my heart, at ease about the rest, became now anxious solely for Ernest. Sometimes the hills concealed the water from us; Fritz climbed them, anxious to discover his brother, at last I heard him suddenly cry out “Ernest, Ernest....”

He was quiet, and I didn't ask him any more about it. We were getting closer to the part of the sea where we had left our small boat, and while I felt relieved about everything else, I started to worry only about Ernest. Sometimes the hills blocked our view of the water; Fritz climbed them, eager to find his brother, and then I suddenly heard him shout, “Ernest, Ernest....”

He was answered by shouts, or rather howls, amongst which I could not distinguish the voice of my son. Terror seized me.

He was met with loud shouts, or more like howls, and I couldn't pick out my son's voice among them. I was overwhelmed with fear.

“These are the islanders,” said I to the missionary; “and these frightful cries....”

“These are the islanders,” I said to the missionary; “and these terrifying cries....”

“Are cries of joy,” said he, “which will be increased when they see you. This path will conduct us to the shore. Call Fritz; but I do not see him; he will, doubtless, have descended the hill, and joined them. Have no fears; recommend your sons to be prudent. The black friend will speak to his black friends, and they will hear him.”

“Those are cries of joy,” he said, “which will get even louder when they see you. This path will lead us to the shore. Call for Fritz; but I don’t see him; he must have gone down the hill to join them. Don't worry; just remind your sons to be careful. The black friend will talk to his friends, and they will listen to him.”

We proceeded towards the shore, when, at some distance, I perceived my two sons on the deck of the pinnace, which was covered with the islanders, to whom they were distributing the treasures of the chest, at least those we had put apart in the bag; they had not been so imprudent as to open the chest itself, which would soon have been emptied; it remained snugly below the deck, with the powder-barrel. At every new acquisition, the savages uttered cries of joy, repeating mona, mona signifying beautiful. The mirrors were at first received with the most delight, but this soon changed into terror; they evidently conceived there was something magical about them, and flung them all into the sea. The coloured glass beads had then the preference, but the distribution caused many disputes. Those who had not obtained any, wished to deprive the rest of them by force. The clamour and quarrelling were increasing, when the voice of the missionary was heard, and calmed them as if by enchantment. All left the pinnace, and crowded round him; he harangued them in their own language, and pointed me out to them, naming me, me touatane, that is, father, which they repeated in their turn. Some approached me, and rubbed their noses against mine, which, the pastor had informed me, was a mark of respect. In the mean time, Fritz had informed Ernest that his mother and brothers were found, and that the man who accompanied us was a European. Ernest received the intelligence with a calm joy; it was only by the tears in his eyes you could discover how much his heart was affected; he leaped from the pinnace and came to thank the missionary. I had my share of his gratitude too, for coming to seek him, before I had seen the dear lost ones.

We made our way to the shore when I spotted my two sons on the deck of the small boat, surrounded by the islanders to whom they were handing out the treasures from the chest, at least the ones we had set aside in the bag. They hadn’t been foolish enough to open the chest itself, which would have been emptied quickly; it stayed safely below deck, along with the powder barrel. With each new item, the islanders gasped with joy, repeating *mona, mona*, meaning *beautiful*. At first, the mirrors brought them the most delight, but soon that turned into fear; they clearly thought there was something magical about them and threw them all into the sea. The colorful glass beads became the favorite, but sharing them led to many disputes. Those who didn’t get any wanted to take away from those who did by force. The noise and arguing increased until the missionary’s voice rang out, calming them as if by magic. Everyone left the small boat and gathered around him; he spoke to them in their language and pointed me out, calling me *me touatane*, which means *father*, and they repeated it back to him. Some came up to me and rubbed their noses against mine, which the pastor had told me was a sign of respect. Meanwhile, Fritz had informed Ernest that their mother and brothers were safe and that the man with us was a European. Ernest received the news with a calm joy; the only way to see how deeply he was affected was by the tears in his eyes. He jumped from the boat to thank the missionary. I also shared in his gratitude for coming to find him before I saw my dear lost ones.

We had now to think of joining them. We unanimously decided to proceed by water; in the first place, that we might bring our pinnace as near as possible to my dear Elizabeth, who was still suffering from her fall, her forced voyage, and, above all, from her anxiety; besides, I confess that I felt a little fatigue, and should have reluctantly set out to cross the wood a third time; but, in addition to this, I was assured that it was the promptest mode of reaching our friends, and this alone would have decided me. The pinnace was then loosened, the sail set, and we entered with thankfulness. Dreading the agitation of my wife if she saw us suddenly, I entreated our new friend to precede us, and prepare her. He consented; but, as he was coming on board, he was suddenly stopped by the natives, and one of them addressed him for some time. The missionary listened till he had concluded, with calmness and dignity; then, turning to me, he said—

We now had to think about joining them. We all agreed to go by water; first, so we could bring our small boat as close as possible to my dear Elizabeth, who was still recovering from her fall, her forced journey, and, most importantly, her anxiety. Plus, I have to admit I was feeling a bit tired and would have hesitated to trek through the woods a third time. But, beyond that, I was assured it was the quickest way to reach our friends, and that alone would have convinced me. So, we loosened the boat, set the sail, and thankfully boarded. Worried about how my wife would react if she saw us suddenly, I asked our new friend to go ahead and prepare her. He agreed, but as he was about to come on board, the locals suddenly stopped him, and one of them spoke to him for a while. The missionary listened calmly and with dignity until the person finished, then turned to me and said—

“You must answer for me, brother, the request which Parabéry makes: he wishes me, in the name of the whole, to wait a few moments for their chief, to whom they give the title of king. Bara-ourou, as he is called, has assembled them here for a ceremony, at which all his warriors must assist. I have been anxious to attend, fearing it might be a sacrifice to their idols, which I have always strongly opposed, and wishing to seize this occasion to declare to them the one true God. Bara-ourou is not wicked, and I hope to succeed in touching his heart, enlightening his mind, and converting him to Christianity; his example would certainly be followed by the greatest part of his subjects, who are much attached to him. Your presence, and the name of God uttered by you, with the fervour and in the attitude of profound veneration and devotion, may aid this work of charity and love. Have you sufficient self-command to delay, for perhaps a few hours, the meeting with your family? Your wife and children, not expecting you, will not suffer from suspense. If you do not agree to this, I will conduct you to them, and return, I hope in time, to fulfil my duty. I wait your decision to reply to Parabéry, who is already sufficiently acquainted with the truth, to desire that his king and his brethren should know it also.”

“You need to answer for me, brother, the request that Parabéry made: he wants me, on behalf of everyone, to wait a few moments for their leader, who they call king. Bara-ourou, as he is named, has gathered them here for a ceremony that all his warriors must attend. I've been eager to go, fearing it might be a sacrifice to their idols, which I've always opposed, and hoping to use this opportunity to tell them about the one true God. Bara-ourou isn’t a bad person, and I’m hopeful I can reach his heart, open his mind, and convert him to Christianity; if he accepts this faith, most of his people would likely follow. Your presence, and the mention of God from you, with passion and a deep sense of reverence, could help this act of charity and love. Can you hold off on meeting your family for maybe just a few hours? Your wife and children, not expecting you, won’t be left in suspense. If you can’t agree to this, I’ll take you to them, and I hope to return in time to do my duty. I’m waiting for your decision to respond to Parabéry, who already knows enough of the truth to want his king and his people to know it too.”

Such were the words of this true servant of God; but I cannot do justice to the expression of his heavenly countenance. Mr. Willis, for such was his name, was forty-five or fifty years of age, tall and thin; the labours and fatigues of his divine vocation had, more than years, left their traces on his noble figure and countenance; he stooped a little, his open and elevated forehead was slightly wrinkled, and his thin hair was prematurely grey; his clear blue eyes were full of intelligence and kindness, reading your thoughts, and showing you all his own. He usually kept his arms folded over his breast, and was very calm in speaking; but when his extended hand pointed to heaven, the effect was irresistible; one might have thought he saw the very glory he spoke of. His simple words to me seemed a message from God, and it would have been impossible to resist him. It was indeed a sacrifice; but I made it without hesitation. I glanced at my sons, who had their eyes cast down; but I saw Fritz knitting his brows. “I shall stay with you, father,” said I, “happy if I can assist you in fulfilling your sacred duties.”

Such were the words of this true servant of God; but I can't quite capture the expression of his heavenly face. Mr. Willis, that was his name, was about forty-five or fifty years old, tall and thin; the work and stresses of his divine calling had, more than the passing years, left their marks on his noble figure and face. He had a slight stoop, his open and high forehead was a bit wrinkled, and his thin hair was prematurely grey; his clear blue eyes shone with intelligence and kindness, seemingly reading your thoughts while revealing all his own. He usually kept his arms folded over his chest and spoke very calmly; but when his outstretched hand pointed to heaven, the effect was powerful; one might have thought he could see the very glory he spoke of. His simple words to me felt like a message from God, and it would have been impossible to refuse him. It truly was a sacrifice; but I made it without hesitation. I glanced at my sons, who had their eyes downcast; but I noticed Fritz furrowing his brow. “I will stay with you, father,” I said, “happy if I can help you in fulfilling your sacred duties.”

“And you, young people,” said he, “are you of the same opinion?”

“And you, young people,” he said, “do you feel the same way?”

Fritz came forward, and frankly said, “Sir, it was, unfortunately, I who wounded my brother Jack; he has been generous enough to conceal this; you extracted the ball which I discharged into his shoulder; I owe his life to you, and mine is at your disposal; I can refuse you nothing; and, however impatient, I must remain with you.”

Fritz stepped forward and said honestly, “Sir, unfortunately, I’m the one who wounded my brother Jack; he’s been generous enough to keep that a secret. You removed the bullet I shot into his shoulder; I owe you his life, and mine is yours to command; I can't refuse you anything; so, no matter how impatient I am, I have to stay with you.”

“I repeat the same,” said Ernest; “you protected our mother and brothers, and, by God’s permission, you restore them to us. We will all remain with you; you shall fix the time of our meeting, which will not, I trust, be long delayed.”

“I say it again,” said Ernest; “you kept our mother and brothers safe, and, with God’s blessing, you bring them back to us. We will all stay with you; you can choose when we meet, which I hope won’t be too far off.”

I signified my approbation, and the missionary gave them his hand, assuring them that their joy on meeting their friends would be greatly increased by the consciousness of this virtuous self-denial.

I expressed my approval, and the missionary shook their hands, assuring them that their happiness in reuniting with their friends would be even greater because of this noble self-restraint.

We soon experienced this. Mr. Willis learned from Parabéry, that they were going to fetch their king in our pretty canoe when we saw it pass. The royal habitation was situated on the other side of the promontory, and we soon heard a joyful cry, that they saw the canoe coming. While the savages were engaged in preparing to meet their chief, I entered the pinnace, and descending beneath the deck, I took from the chest what I judged most fitting to present to his majesty. I chose an axe, a saw, a pretty, small, ornamented sabre, which could not do much harm, a packet of nails, and one of glass beads. I had scarcely put aside these articles, when my sons rushed to me in great excitement.

We quickly saw this for ourselves. Mr. Willis found out from Parabéry that they were going to bring their king in our nice canoe when we saw it go by. The king's home was on the other side of the promontory, and soon we heard joyful shouts that they spotted the canoe. While the locals were getting ready to greet their leader, I went onto the small boat and went below deck to grab what I thought would be best to present to his majesty. I picked an axe, a saw, a nice little decorated saber that wouldn’t do much harm, a pack of nails, and a pack of glass beads. I had just set those items aside when my sons rushed over to me, full of excitement.

“Oh! father,” cried they, at once, “look! look! summon all your fortitude; see! there is Francis himself in the canoe; oh! how curiously he is dressed!”

“Oh! Dad,” they exclaimed together, “look! Look! Gather all your strength; see! There’s Francis himself in the canoe; oh! how strangely he’s dressed!”


“Two savages took Francis on their shoulders, and two others took the king in the same way.”


“Two warriors carried Francis on their shoulders, and two others carried the king the same way.”

I looked, and saw, at some distance, our canoe ascending the strait; it was decorated with green branches, which the savages, who formed the king’s guard, held in their hand; others were rowing vigorously; and the chief, wearing a red and yellow handkerchief, which had belonged to my wife, as a turban, was seated at the stern, and a pretty, little, blooming, flaxen-haired boy was placed on his right shoulder. With what delight did I recognize my child. He was naked above the waist, and wore a little tunic of woven leaves, which reached to his knees, a necklace and bracelets of shells, and a variety of coloured feathers mingled with his bright curls; one of these fell over his face, and doubtless prevented him from seeing us. The chief seemed much engaged with him, and continually took some ornament from his own dress to decorate him. “It is my child!” said I, in great terror, to Mr. Willis, “my dearest and youngest! They have taken him from his mother. What must be her grief! He is her Benjamin—the child of her love. Why have they taken him? Why have they adorned him in this manner? Why have they brought him here?”

I looked and saw our canoe moving up the strait from a distance. It was decorated with green branches that the king’s guard, made up of savages, were holding. Others were rowing energetically. The chief, wearing a red and yellow handkerchief that used to belong to my wife as a turban, was sitting at the back. A cute, little boy with light blond hair was perched on his right shoulder. How thrilled I was to recognize my child! He was bare-chested and wore a tunic made of woven leaves that reached his knees, along with a necklace and bracelets made of shells, and colorful feathers mixed in with his bright curls. One of the feathers fell across his face, likely blocking his view of us. The chief seemed very focused on him, constantly taking some of his own ornaments to decorate the boy. “It’s my child!” I exclaimed in terror to Mr. Willis, “my precious youngest! They’ve taken him from his mother. How heartbroken she must be! He’s her Benjamin—the child she loves most. Why have they taken him? Why have they dressed him up like this? Why have they brought him here?”

“Have no fear,” said the missionary; “they will do him no harm. I promise you they shall restore him, and you shall take him back to his mother. Place yourselves at my side, with these branches in your hands.”

“Don’t worry,” said the missionary; “they won’t hurt him. I promise you they’ll bring him back, and you’ll take him back to his mother. Stand by my side, holding these branches in your hands.”

He took some from Parabéry, who held a bundle of them, and gave us each one; each of the savages took one also. They were from a tree which had slender, elegant leaves, and rich scarlet flowers—species of mimosa; the Indians call it the tree of peace. They carry a branch of it when they have no hostile intentions; in all their assemblies, when war is proclaimed, they make a fire of these branches, and if all are consumed, it is considered an omen of victory.

He took some from Parabéry, who was holding a bundle of them, and gave one to each of us; each of the natives took one too. They were from a tree that had slender, graceful leaves and vibrant scarlet flowers— a type of mimosa; the Indians call it the tree of peace. They carry a branch from it when they mean no harm; in all their gatherings, when war is declared, they burn these branches, and if all are consumed, it is seen as a sign of victory.

While Mr. Willis was explaining this to us, the canoe approached. Two savages took Francis on their shoulders, two others took the king in the same way, and advanced gravely towards us. What difficulty I had to restrain myself from snatching my child from his bearers, and embracing him! My sons were equally agitated; Fritz was darting forward, but the missionary restrained him. Francis, somewhat alarmed at his position, had his eyes cast down, and had not yet seen us. When the king was within twenty yards of us, they stopped, and all the savages prostrated themselves before him; we alone remained standing. Then Francis saw us, and uttered a piercing cry, calling out, “Papa! dear brothers!” He struggled to quit the shoulders of his bearers, but they held him too firmly. It was impossible to restrain ourselves longer; we all cried out, and mingled our tears and lamentations. I said to the good missionary,—a little too harshly, perhaps,—“Ah! if you were a father!”

While Mr. Willis was explaining this to us, the canoe came closer. Two natives lifted Francis onto their shoulders, and two others did the same with the king, moving seriously toward us. I struggled hard to keep myself from grabbing my child from his carriers and hugging him! My sons were just as anxious; Fritz was ready to run forward, but the missionary held him back. Francis, a bit nervous in his situation, looked down and hadn’t seen us yet. When the king was about twenty yards away, they stopped, and all the natives bowed down before him; we were the only ones standing. Then Francis spotted us and let out a piercing scream, shouting, “Papa! dear brothers!” He tried to escape from the shoulders of his carriers, but they held him too tightly. We couldn’t hold back any longer; we all cried out, mixing our tears and sorrows. I said to the kind missionary—perhaps a bit too harshly—“Ah! if you were a father!”

“I am,” said he, “the father of all this flock, and your children are mine; I am answerable for all. Command your sons to be silent; request the child to be composed, and leave the rest to me.”

“I am,” he said, “the father of all these kids, and your children are mine; I’m responsible for everything. Tell your sons to be quiet; ask the child to stay calm, and leave the rest to me.”

I immediately took advantage of the permission to speak. “Dear Francis,” said I, holding out my arms, “we are come to seek you and your mother; after all our dangers, we shall soon meet again, to part no more. But be composed, my child, and do not risk the happiness of that moment by any impatience. Trust in God, and in this good friend that He has given us, and who has restored to me the treasures without which I could not live.” We then waved our hands to him, and he remained still, but wept quietly, murmuring our names: “Papa, Fritz, Ernest,—tell me about mamma,” said he, at last, in an inquiring tone.

I immediately took the chance to speak. “Dear Francis,” I said, reaching out my arms, “we've come to find you and your mother; after all our dangers, we'll soon meet again, and this time we won't part. But stay calm, my child, and don’t jeopardize that happiness by being impatient. Trust in God, and in this good friend He has given us, who has brought back to me the treasures I need to live.” We then waved our hands at him, and he stayed still, but quietly cried, whispering our names: “Papa, Fritz, Ernest—tell me about mom,” he finally said, in a curious tone.

“She does not know we are so near her,” said I. “How did you leave her?”

“She doesn't know we're so close to her,” I said. “How did you leave her?”

“Very much grieved,” said he, “that they brought me away; but they have not done me any harm,—they are so kind; and we shall soon all go back to her. Oh! what joy for her and our friends!”

“I'm really upset,” he said, “that they took me away; but they haven't harmed me at all — they’re so nice; and we’ll all be going back to her soon. Oh! What joy for her and our friends!”

“One word about Jack,” said Fritz; “how does his wound go on?”

“One word about Jack,” said Fritz, “how’s his wound healing?”

“Oh, pretty well,” answered he; “he has no pain now, and Sophia nurses him and amuses him. How little Matilda would weep when the savages carried me off! If you knew, papa, how kind and good she is!”

“Oh, pretty well,” he replied; “he has no pain now, and Sophia takes care of him and keeps him entertained. How much little Matilda would cry when the savages took me away! If you only knew, Dad, how kind and good she is!”

I had no time to ask who Sophia and Matilda were. They had allowed me to speak to my son to tranquillize him, but the king now commanded silence, and, still elevated on the shoulders of his people, began to harangue the assembly. He was a middle-aged man, with striking features; his thick lips, his hair tinged with red paint, his dark brown face, which, as well as his body, was tattooed with white, gave him a formidable aspect; yet his countenance was not unpleasant, and announced no ferocity. In general, these savages have enormous mouths, with long white teeth; they wear a tunic of reeds or leaves from the waist to the knees. My wife’s handkerchief, which I had recognized at first, was gracefully twisted round the head of the king; his hair was fastened up high, and ornamented with feathers, but he had nearly removed them all to deck my boy. He placed him at his side, and frequently pointed him out during his speech. I was on thorns. As soon as he had concluded, the savages shouted, clapped their hands, and surrounded my child, dancing, and presenting him fruit, flowers, and shells, crying out, Ouraki! a cry in which the king, who was now standing, joined also.

I didn't have time to ask who Sophia and Matilda were. They had let me talk to my son to calm him down, but the king now demanded silence and, still lifted on the shoulders of his people, began to address the crowd. He was a middle-aged man with striking features; his thick lips, his hair painted red, and his dark brown skin, which along with his body was tattooed in white, gave him a powerful look. Yet, his expression wasn't unpleasant and showed no signs of aggression. Generally, these people have huge mouths with long white teeth, and they wear tunics made of reeds or leaves from the waist to the knees. My wife’s handkerchief, which I recognized right away, was elegantly wrapped around the king's head; his hair was styled high and decorated with feathers, though he had almost removed them all to adorn my boy. He placed my son beside him and often pointed him out during his speech. I was on edge. As soon as he finished, the crowd erupted in cheers, clapped their hands, and surrounded my child, dancing and offering him fruit, flowers, and shells, shouting, Ouraki! It was a cry that the now-standing king joined in as well.

“What does the word Ouraki mean?” said I to the missionary.

“What does the word Ouraki mean?” I asked the missionary.

“It is the new name of your son,” answered he; “or rather of the son of Bara-ourou, who has just adopted him.”

“It’s the new name of your son,” he replied; “or rather, the son of Bara-ourou, who just adopted him.”

“Never!” cried I, darting forward. “Boys, let us rescue your brother from these barbarians!” We all three rushed towards Francis, who, weeping, extended his arms to us. The savages attempted to repulse us; but at that moment the missionary pronounced some words in a loud voice; they immediately prostrated themselves on their faces, and we had no difficulty in securing the child. We brought him to our protector, who still remained in the same attitude in which he had spoken, with his eyes and his right hand raised towards heaven. He made a sign for the savages to rise, and afterwards spoke for some time to them. What would I have given to have understood him! But I formed some idea from the effect of his words. He frequently pointed to us, pronouncing the word éroué, and particularly addressed the king, who listened motionless to him. At the conclusion of his speech, Bara-ourou approached, and attempted to take hold of Francis, who threw himself into my arms, where I firmly held him.

“Never!” I shouted, rushing forward. “Boys, let’s save your brother from these savages!” The three of us sprinted toward Francis, who, crying, reached out his arms to us. The natives tried to push us back, but at that moment, the missionary spoke loudly; they immediately fell to the ground, and we had no trouble getting the child. We took him to our protector, who was still in the same position he had taken when he spoke, with his eyes and right hand raised to the sky. He signaled for the savages to get up and then talked to them for a while. I would have given anything to understand him! But I got some sense of his meaning from how they reacted to his words. He often pointed to us, saying the word éroué, and especially spoke to the king, who listened without moving. At the end of his speech, Bara-ourou came closer and tried to grab Francis, but Francis threw himself into my arms, and I held him tightly.

“Let him now go,” said Mr. Willis, “and fear nothing.”

“Let him go now,” said Mr. Willis, “and don’t worry about anything.”

I released the child; the king lifted him up, pressed his own nose to his; then, placing him on the ground, took away the feathers and necklace with which he had decked him, and replaced him in my arms, rubbing my nose also, and repeating several words. In my first emotion, I threw myself on my knees, and was imitated by my two sons.

I let go of the child; the king picked him up, pressed his nose to the child’s, then set him on the ground, removed the feathers and necklace he had adorned him with, and put him back in my arms, rubbing my nose too, and saying several words. Overwhelmed with emotion, I fell to my knees, and my two sons followed my lead.

“It is well!” cried the missionary, again raising his eyes and hands. “Thus should you offer thanks to heaven. The king, convinced it is the will of God, restores your child, and wishes to become your friend: he is worthy to be so, for he adores and fears your God. May he soon learn to know and believe all the truths of Christianity! Let us pray together that the time may come when, on these shores, where paternal love has triumphed, I may see a temple rise to the Father of all,—the God of peace and love.”

“It’s wonderful!” exclaimed the missionary, raising his eyes and hands once more. “This is how you should thank heaven. The king, believing it’s God’s will, is returning your child and wants to be your friend: he deserves to be, for he worships and respects your God. May he soon come to understand and believe all the truths of Christianity! Let’s pray together that the day will come when, on these shores, where parental love has prevailed, I can witness a temple built to the Father of all—the God of peace and love.”

He kneeled down, and the king and all his people followed his example. Without understanding the words of his prayer, I joined in the spirit of it with all my heart and soul.

He knelt down, and the king and all his people followed suit. Without understanding the words of his prayer, I joined in the spirit of it with all my heart and soul.

I then presented my offerings to the king, increasing them considerably. I would willingly have given all my treasures in exchange for him he had restored to me. My sons also gave something to each of the savages, who incessantly cried tayo, tayo. I begged Mr. Willis to tell the king I gave him my canoe, and hoped he would use it to visit us in our island, to which we were returning. He appeared pleased, and wished to accompany us in our pinnace, which he seemed greatly to admire; some of his people followed him on board to row, the rest placed themselves in the canoes. We soon entered the sea again, and, doubling the second point, we came to an arm of the sea much wider, and deep enough for our pinnace, and which conducted us to the object of our dearest hopes.

I then presented my gifts to the king, significantly increasing their value. I would have gladly given up all my treasures for what he had restored to me. My sons also offered something to each of the locals, who continuously shouted tayo, tayo. I asked Mr. Willis to inform the king that I had given him my canoe and hoped he would use it to visit us on our island, to which we were returning. He seemed pleased and wanted to join us in our boat, which he admired greatly; some of his people came aboard to row, while the others took to the canoes. We soon entered the sea again, and as we rounded the second point, we reached a much wider arm of the sea that was deep enough for our boat and led us to the destination of our greatest hopes.


CHAPTER LIII.

We were never weary with caressing our dear Francis. We were very anxious to learn from him all the particulars of the arrival of the savages in our island, the seizure of his mother and himself, their voyage, and their residence here, and who were the friends they had met with: but it was impossible, his tawny majesty never left us for a moment, and played with the boy as if he had been a child himself. Francis showed him all the toys from our chest; he was extremely amused with the small mirrors, and the dolls. A painted carriage, driven by a coachman who raised his whip when the wheels turned, appeared miraculous to him. He uttered screams of delight as he pointed it out to his followers. The ticking of my watch also charmed him; and as I had several more, I gave him it, showing him how to wind it up. But the first time he tried to do it, he broke the spring, and when it was silent he cared no longer for it, but threw it on one side. However, as the gold was very glittering, he took it up again, and suspending it from the handkerchief that was wound round his head, it hung over his nose, and formed a striking ornament. Francis showed him his face in a mirror, which royal amusement made him laugh heartily. He asked the missionary if it was the invisible and Almighty God who had made all these wonderful things. Mr. Willis replied, that it was he who gave men the power to make them. I do not know whether Bara-ourou comprehended this, but he remained for some time in deep thought. I profited by this to ask the missionary what were the words which had terrified them so when they wished to keep my son from me, and which had compelled them to surrender him?

We never grew tired of hugging our dear Francis. We were really eager to hear from him all the details about the arrival of the savages on our island, the capture of his mother and himself, their journey, and their time here, as well as who the friends they had met were. But it was impossible; his brown majesty never left us for a moment and played with the boy as if he were a child himself. Francis showed him all the toys from our chest; he was really entertained by the small mirrors and the dolls. A painted carriage, driven by a coachman who raised his whip when the wheels turned, seemed miraculous to him. He let out screams of joy as he pointed it out to his followers. The ticking of my watch also fascinated him; and since I had several more, I gave him one, showing him how to wind it up. But the first time he tried, he broke the spring, and when it stopped making noise, he lost interest and tossed it aside. However, since the gold was very shiny, he picked it up again and hung it from the handkerchief wrapped around his head, letting it dangle over his nose like a striking ornament. Francis showed him his reflection in a mirror, and that royal entertainment made him laugh heartily. He asked the missionary if it was the invisible and Almighty God who made all these wonderful things. Mr. Willis replied that it was God who gave people the ability to create them. I don't know if Bara-ourou understood this, but he sat in deep thought for a while. I took advantage of this moment to ask the missionary what words had frightened them so much when they tried to keep my son from me and what had forced them to give him back.

“I told them,” answered he, “that the Almighty and unseen God, of whom I spoke to them daily, ordered them, by my voice, to restore a son to his father; I threatened them with his anger if they refused, and promised them his mercy if they obeyed; and they did obey. The first step is gained, they know the duty of adoring and obeying God; every other truth proceeds from this, and I have no doubt that my savages will one day become good Christians. My method of instruction is suited to their limited capacity. I prove to them that their wooden idols, made by their own hands, could neither create, hear them, nor protect them. I have shown them God in his works, have declared him to be as good as he is powerful, hating evil, cruelty, murder, and cannibalism, and they have renounced all these. In their late wars they have either released or adopted their prisoners. If they carried off your wife and son, they intended it for a good action, as you will soon understand.”

“I told them,” he replied, “that the Almighty and unseen God, whom I speak to them about every day, commanded them, through my voice, to return a son to his father; I warned them of His anger if they refused, and assured them of His mercy if they obeyed; and they did obey. The first step has been taken; they understand the importance of worshiping and obeying God; every other truth follows from this, and I have no doubt that one day my people will become good Christians. My teaching method is tailored to their limited understanding. I show them that their wooden idols, which they made with their own hands, can neither create, hear them, nor protect them. I have revealed God through His works, declared Him to be as good as He is powerful, and that He hates evil, cruelty, murder, and cannibalism, and they have given up all these things. In their recent wars, they either freed or adopted their prisoners. If they took your wife and son, it was intended as a good deed, as you will soon understand.”

I could not ask Francis any questions, as Bara-ourou continued playing with him, so turning to Ernest, I asked him what passed when the savages joined him?

I couldn't ask Francis any questions because Bara-ourou kept playing with him, so I turned to Ernest and asked what happened when the savages joined him.

“When you left me,” said he, “I amused myself by searching for shells, plants, and zoophytes, with which the rocks abound, and I have added a good deal to my collection. I was at some distance from the pinnace, when I heard a confused sound of voices, and concluded that the savages were coming; in fact, ten or a dozen issued from the road you had entered, and I cannot comprehend how you missed meeting them. Fearing they would attempt to take possession of my pinnace, I returned speedily, and seized a loaded musket, though I determined to use it only to defend my own life, or the pinnace. I stood on the deck in an attitude as bold and imposing as I could command; but I did not succeed in intimidating them. They leaped, one after the other, on deck, and surrounded me, uttering loud cries. I could not discover whether they were cries of joy or of fury; but I showed no fear, and addressed them in a friendly tone, in some words from Capt. Cook’s vocabulary; but they did not seem to comprehend me, neither could I understand any of theirs except écroué (father), which they frequently repeated, and tara-tauo (woman). One of them had Fritz’s gun, from which I concluded they were of the party that had carried off Jack. I took it, and showing him mine, endeavoured to make him understand that it also belonged to me. He thought I wished to exchange, and readily offered to return it, and take mine. This would not have suited me; Fritz’s gun was discharged, and I could not let them have mine loaded. To prevent accident, surrounded as I was, I decided to give them a fright, and seeing a bird flying above us, I took aim so correctly, that my shot brought down the bird, a blue pigeon. They were for a moment stupified with terror; then immediately all left the pinnace, except Parabéry; he seemed to be pleased with me, often pointing to the sky, saying mété, which means good, I believe. His comrades were examining the dead bird. Some touched their own shoulders, to try if they were wounded as well as the bird and Jack had been, which convinced me they had carried him off. I tried to make Parabéry understand my suspicion, and I think I succeeded, for he made me an affirmative sign, pointing to the interior of the island, and touching his shoulder with an air of pity. I took several things from the chest, and gave them to him, making signs that he should show them to the others, and induce them to return to me. He comprehended me very well, and complied with my wishes. I was soon surrounded by the whole party, begging of me. I was busy distributing beads, mirrors, and small knives when you came, and we are now excellent friends. Two or three of them returned to the wood, and brought me cocoa-nuts and bananas. But we must be careful to hide our guns, of which they have a holy horror. And now, dear father, I think we ought not to call these people savages. They have the simplicity of childhood; a trifle irritates them, a trifle appeases them; they are grateful and affectionate. I find them neither cruel nor barbarous. They have done me no harm, when they might easily have killed me, thrown me into the sea, or carried me away.”

“When you left me,” he said, “I kept myself busy looking for shells, plants, and sea creatures that the rocks are filled with, and I’ve added quite a bit to my collection. I was a good distance from the small boat when I heard a jumble of voices and figured the locals were coming; in fact, ten or so appeared from the path you took, and I can’t understand how you missed running into them. Worried they would try to take my boat, I hurried back and grabbed a loaded musket, though I planned to use it only to protect myself or the boat. I stood on the deck in as bold and imposing a stance as I could manage, but I didn’t scare them off. They jumped on deck one after the other and surrounded me, shouting loudly. I couldn’t tell if they were cheering or furious; but I showed no fear and spoke to them in a friendly manner, using some words from Captain Cook’s vocabulary. They didn’t seem to get what I was saying, and I could only understand a couple of their words, including écroué (father), which they kept repeating, and tara-tauo (woman). One of them had Fritz’s gun, which made me think they were part of the group that took Jack. I took it and showed him mine, trying to make him understand that it was also mine. He thought I wanted to trade and quickly offered to give it back for mine. That wouldn’t work for me; Fritz’s gun was empty, and I couldn’t let them have mine, which was loaded. To avoid an accident, surrounded as I was, I decided to give them a scare, and spotting a bird flying above us, I aimed so well that I shot it down, a blue pigeon. For a moment, they were stunned with fear; then right away, everyone left the boat except for Parabéry; he seemed to like me, often pointing to the sky and saying mété, which I believe means good. His friends examined the dead bird. Some checked their shoulders to see if they were hurt like the bird and Jack had been, which made me think they had kidnapped him. I tried to get Parabéry to understand my suspicion, and I think I succeeded, because he nodded in agreement, pointing toward the island and touching his shoulder with a look of sympathy. I grabbed a few things from the chest and gave them to him, signaling for him to show them to the others and convince them to come back to me. He understood me well and did what I asked. Soon I was surrounded by the whole group, asking me for things. I was in the middle of handing out beads, mirrors, and small knives when you arrived, and now we are great friends. Two or three of them went back into the woods and came back with coconuts and bananas. But we need to be careful to hide our guns; they have a strong fear of them. And now, dear father, I think we shouldn’t call these people savages. They have a childlike simplicity; a little thing makes them upset, and a little thing calms them down; they are grateful and affectionate. I don’t find them cruel or barbaric. They haven’t harmed me, even though they could easily have killed me, thrown me into the sea, or taken me away.”

“We must not,” said I, “judge of all savage people by these, who have had the benefit of a virtuous teacher. Mr. Willis has already cast into their hearts the seeds of that divine religion, which commands us to do unto others as we would they should do unto us, and to pardon and love our enemies.”

“We shouldn’t,” I said, “judge all primitive people by these, who have had the advantage of a good teacher. Mr. Willis has already planted the seeds of that divine religion in their hearts, which teaches us to treat others how we wish to be treated and to forgive and love our enemies.”

While we were discoursing, we arrived at a spot where the canoes had already landed; we were about to do the same, but the king did not seem inclined to quit the pinnace, but continued speaking to the missionary. I was still fearful that he wished to keep Francis, to whom he seemed to be more and more attached, holding him constantly on his knee; but at last, to my great joy, he placed him in my arms.

While we were talking, we reached a place where the canoes had already arrived; we were about to do the same, but the king didn't seem ready to leave the small boat and kept talking to the missionary. I was still worried that he wanted to keep Francis, as he seemed more and more fond of him, always holding him on his lap; but finally, to my great relief, he placed him in my arms.

“He keeps his word with you,” said Mr. Willis. “You may carry him to his mother; but, in return, he wishes you to permit him to go in your pinnace to his abode on the other side of the strait, that he may show it to the women, and he promises to bring it back; perhaps there would be danger in refusing him.”

"He's good for his word to you," Mr. Willis said. "You can take him to his mother, but in return, he wants you to let him take your small boat to his place across the strait so he can show it to the women. He promises to bring it back; it might be risky to deny him."

I agreed with him; but still there was a difficulty in granting this request. If he chose to keep it, how should we return? Besides, it contained our only barrel of powder, and all our articles of traffic, and how could we expect it would escape pillage?

I agreed with him, but there was still a problem with granting this request. If he decided to keep it, how would we get back? Also, it had our only barrel of gunpowder and all our trade goods, and how could we expect it to avoid being looted?

Mr. Willis confessed he had not yet been able to cure their fondness for theft, and suggested, as the only means of security, that I should accompany the king, and bring the pinnace back, which was then to be committed to the charge of Parabéry, for whose honesty he would be responsible.

Mr. Willis admitted he still hadn't managed to fix their tendency to steal and suggested that the only way to ensure security was for me to go with the king and bring the small boat back. It would then be entrusted to Parabéry, for whom he would vouch for his honesty.

Here was another delay; the day was so far advanced, that I might not, perhaps, be able to return before night. Besides, though my wife did not know we were so near her, she knew they had carried away Francis, and she would certainly be very uneasy about him. Bara-ourou looked very impatient, and as it was necessary to answer him, I decided at once; I resigned Francis to the missionary, entreating him to take him to his mother, to prepare her for our approach, and to relate the cause of our delay. I told my sons, it was my desire they should accompany me. Fritz agreed rather indignantly, and Ernest with calmness. Mr. Willis told the king, that in gratitude to him, and to do him honour, I and my sons wished to accompany him. He appeared much flattered at this, made my sons seat themselves on each side of him, endeavoured to pronounce their names, and finished by exchanging names as a token of friendship, calling Fritz, Bara; Ernest, Ourou; and himself, Fritz-Ernest. Mr. Willis and Francis left us; our hearts were sad to see them go where all our wishes centred; but the die was cast. The king gave the signal to depart; the canoes took the lead, and we followed. In an hour we saw the royal palace. It was a tolerably large hut, constructed of bamboos and palm-leaves, very neatly. Several women were seated before it, busily employed in making the short petticoats of reeds which they all wore. Their hair was very carefully braided in tufts on the crown of the head; none were good-looking, except two daughters of the king, about ten and twelve years old, who, though very dark, were graceful: these, no doubt, he intended for wives for my Francis. We disembarked about a hundred yards from the hut. The women came to meet us, carrying a branch of the mimosa in each hand; they then performed a singular kind of dance, entwining their arms and shaking their feet, but never moving from the spot; this they accompanied with a wild chant, which was anything but musical. The king seemed pleased with it; and, calling his wives and daughters, he showed them his tayo, Bara and Ourou, calling himself Fritz-Ernest; he then joined in the dance, dragging my sons with him, who managed it pretty well. As for me, he treated me with great respect, always calling me écroué—father, and made me sit down on a large trunk of a tree before his house; which was, doubtless, his throne, for he placed me there with great ceremony, rubbing his royal nose against mine. After the dance was concluded, the women retired to the hut, and returned to offer us a collation, served up in the shells of cocoa-nuts. It was a sort of paste, composed, I believe, of different sorts of fruit, mixed up with a kind of flour and the milk of the cocoa-nut. This mixture was detestable to me; but I made up for it with some kernel of cocoa-nuts and the bread-fruit. Perceiving that I liked these, Bara-ourou ordered some of them to be gathered, and carried to the pinnace.

Here was another delay; the day was so far along that I might not be able to return before nightfall. Besides, even though my wife didn’t know we were so close, she knew they had taken Francis, and she would definitely be very worried about him. Bara-ourou looked quite impatient, and since I needed to respond to him, I quickly made a decision; I entrusted Francis to the missionary, asking him to take him to his mother, to prepare her for our approach, and to explain the reason for our delay. I told my sons that I wanted them to come with me. Fritz agreed somewhat indignantly, and Ernest calmly. Mr. Willis told the king that, out of gratitude and to honor him, my sons and I wished to accompany him. He seemed quite flattered by this, had my sons sit on either side of him, tried to pronounce their names, and ended up exchanging names as a sign of friendship, calling Fritz, Bara; Ernest, Ourou; and himself, Fritz-Ernest. Mr. Willis and Francis left us; our hearts were heavy to see them go where all our thoughts were focused; but the decision was made. The king signaled to depart; the canoes led the way, and we followed. In about an hour, we saw the royal palace. It was a reasonably large hut made of bamboo and palm leaves, very neatly done. Several women were seated in front of it, busily making the short reed skirts that they all wore. Their hair was carefully braided in tufts on the tops of their heads; none were good-looking except for two of the king’s daughters, around ten and twelve years old, who, although very dark, were graceful: these, no doubt, he intended for wives for my Francis. We got off the canoes about a hundred yards from the hut. The women came to greet us, each carrying a branch of mimosa in one hand; they then performed a strange kind of dance, twisting their arms and shaking their feet but never moving from the spot; this was accompanied by a wild chant, which was anything but musical. The king seemed to enjoy it; and, calling his wives and daughters, he showed them his tayo, Bara and Ourou, calling himself Fritz-Ernest; he then joined in the dance, pulling my sons along with him, who managed it pretty well. As for me, he treated me with great respect, always calling me écroué—father, and made me sit down on a large tree trunk in front of his house; this was likely his throne, as he placed me there with great ceremony, rubbing his royal nose against mine. After the dance was over, the women went back to the hut and returned to offer us a snack, served in coconut shells. It was a sort of paste, made, I believe, from various fruits mixed with a kind of flour and coconut milk. This mixture was unappetizing to me, but I compensated for it with some coconut kernels and breadfruit. Noticing that I liked these, Bara-ourou ordered some to be gathered and brought to the pinnace.

The hut was backed by a wood of palms and other trees, so that our provision was readily made. Still there was time for my sons to run to the pinnace, attended by Parabéry, and bring from the chest some beads, mirrors, scissors, needles and pins, to distribute to the ladies. When they brought the fruit they had gathered, I made a sign to Bara-ourou to take them to see the pinnace; he called them, and they followed him timidly, and submitting to his wishes in everything, They carried the fruit two and two, in a sort of baskets, very skilfully woven in rushes, which appeared to have a European form. They had no furniture in their dwelling but mats, which were doubtless their beds, and some trunks of trees, serving for seats and tables. Several baskets were suspended to the bamboo which formed the walls, and also lances, slings, clubs, and other similar weapons; from which I concluded they were a nation of warriors. I did not observe much, however, for my thoughts were in the future, and I was very impatient for our departure. I hastened to the pinnace, and my sons distributed their gifts to the females, who did not dare to express their delight; but it was evident in their countenances. They immediately began to adorn themselves with their presents, and appeared to value the mirrors much more than their husbands had done. They soon understood their use, and employed them to arrange with taste the strings of beads round their necks, heads, and arms.

The hut was located next to a grove of palm and other trees, which made it easy to gather supplies. Still, there was enough time for my sons to run to the small boat, accompanied by Parabéry, and bring back some beads, mirrors, scissors, needles, and pins from the chest to give to the women. When they returned with the fruit they had picked, I signaled to Bara-ourou to take them to see the boat; he called them, and they followed him shyly, agreeing to all his requests. They carried the fruit two by two in woven baskets made of rushes, which looked somewhat European in style. They had no furniture in their home except for mats that were likely their beds and some tree trunks that served as seats and tables. Several baskets hung from the bamboo walls, along with lances, slings, clubs, and other similar weapons, which led me to believe they were a warrior society. However, I didn’t pay much attention to the details because my mind was focused on the future, and I was eager to leave. I rushed to the boat, and my sons distributed their gifts to the women, who didn't dare show their excitement, but their faces clearly showed it. They immediately began to decorate themselves with their new items, seeming to value the mirrors much more than their husbands had. They quickly figured out how to use them and skillfully arranged the strings of beads around their necks, heads, and arms.

At last the signal was given for our departure; I rubbed my nose against that of the king. I added to my presents a packet of nails, and one of gilt buttons, which he seemed to covet. I went on board my pinnace, and, conducted by the good Parabéry, we took our way to that part of the coast where the dear ones resided whom I so anxiously desired to see. Some of the savages accompanied us in their own canoe; we should have preferred having only our friend Parabéry, but we were not the masters.

At last, the signal was given for us to leave; I rubbed my nose against the king's. I added a pack of nails and a gilt button to my gifts, which he seemed to really want. I went on board my small boat, and with the help of the good Parabéry, we headed to the part of the coast where my loved ones lived, whom I was so eager to see. Some of the locals joined us in their own canoe; we would have preferred just having our friend Parabéry with us, but we didn't have a say in the matter.

Favoured by the wind, we soon reached the shore we had formerly quitted, and found our excellent missionary waiting for us.

Favored by the wind, we soon reached the shore we had previously left, and found our wonderful missionary waiting for us.

“Come,” said he, “you are now going to receive your reward. Your wife and children impatiently expect you; they would have come to meet you, but your wife is still weak, and Jack suffering—your presence will soon cure them.”

“Come,” he said, “you’re about to get your reward. Your wife and kids are eagerly waiting for you; they wanted to come and meet you, but your wife is still weak, and Jack is suffering—your presence will make them feel better soon.”

I was too much affected to answer. Fritz gave me his arm, as much to support me as to restrain himself from rushing on before. Ernest did the same with Mr. Willis; his mildness pleased the good man, who also saw his taste for study, and tried to encourage it. After half an hour’s walk, the missionary told us we were now near our good friends. I saw no sign of a habitation, nothing but trees and rocks; at last I saw a light smoke among the trees, and at that moment Francis, who had been watching, ran to meet us.

I was too overwhelmed to respond. Fritz offered me his arm, both to support me and to keep himself from charging ahead. Ernest did the same with Mr. Willis; his gentleness charmed the good man, who noticed his interest in learning and tried to nurture it. After walking for about half an hour, the missionary informed us that we were close to our dear friends. I saw no signs of a home, just trees and rocks; finally, I spotted a wisp of smoke among the trees, and at that moment, Francis, who had been watching, ran to greet us.

“Mamma is expecting you,” said he, showing us the way through a grove of shrubs, thick enough to hide entirely the entrance into a kind of grotto; we had to stoop to pass into it. It resembled much the entrance of the bear’s den, which we found in the remote part of our island. A mat of rushes covered the opening, yet permitted the light to penetrate it. Francis removed the matting, calling—

“Mamma is waiting for you,” he said, leading us through a thick grove of bushes that completely concealed the entrance to a sort of cave; we had to bend down to get inside. It looked a lot like the entrance to the bear’s den we discovered in the far reaches of our island. A layer of reeds covered the opening, but still let some light through. Francis pulled aside the matting, calling—

“Mamma, here we are!”

“Mom, here we are!”

A lady, apparently about twenty-seven years of age, of mild and pleasing appearance, came forward to meet me. She a clothed in a rob made of palm-leaves tied together, which reached from her throat to her feet, leaving her beautiful arms uncovered. Her light hair was braided and fastened up round her head.

A woman who looked to be around twenty-seven, with a gentle and pleasant demeanor, approached me. She was dressed in a robe made of palm leaves tied together, which covered her from her neck to her feet, leaving her lovely arms bare. Her light hair was braided and arranged up around her head.

“You are welcome,” said she, taking my hand; “you will be my poor friend’s best physician.”

“You're welcome,” she said, taking my hand; “you'll be my poor friend's best doctor.”

We entered, and saw my dear wife seated on a bed of moss and leaves; she wept abundantly, pointing out to me our dear boy by her side. A little nymph of eleven or twelve years old was endeavouring to raise him.

We walked in and saw my beloved wife sitting on a bed of moss and leaves; she was crying a lot, pointing out our dear boy next to her. A little girl, around eleven or twelve years old, was trying to lift him up.

“Here are your papa and brothers, Jack,” said she; “you are very happy in having what I have not: but your papa will be mine, and you shall be my brother.”

“Here are your dad and brothers, Jack,” she said; “you’re really lucky to have what I don’t: but your dad will be mine, and you’ll be my brother.”

Jack thanked her affectionately. Fritz and Ernest, kneeling beside the couch, embraced their mother. Fritz begged her to forgive him for hurting his brother; and then tenderly inquired of Jack after his wound. For me, I cannot describe my gratitude and agitation; I could scarce utter a word to my dear wife, who, on her part, sunk down quite overcome on her bed. The lady, who was, I understood, named Madame Hirtel, approached to assist her. When she recovered, she presented to me Madame Hirtel and her two daughters. The eldest, Sophia, was attending on Jack; Matilda, who was about ten or eleven years of age, was playing with Francis; while the good missionary, on his knees, thanked God for having re-united us.

Jack thanked her warmly. Fritz and Ernest, kneeling beside the couch, hugged their mom. Fritz asked her to forgive him for hurting his brother and then gently checked on Jack's injury. As for me, I can't express my gratitude and anxiety; I could barely say a word to my dear wife, who, overwhelmed, sank down onto her bed. The lady, whom I learned was named Madame Hirtel, came over to help her. Once she recovered, she introduced me to Madame Hirtel and her two daughters. The oldest, Sophia, was caring for Jack; Matilda, who was around ten or eleven, was playing with Francis; while the kind missionary, on his knees, thanked God for bringing us back together.

“And for life,” cried my dear wife. “My dear husband, I well knew you would set out to seek me; but how could I anticipate that you would ever succeed in finding me? We will now separate no more; this beloved friend has agreed to accompany us to the Happy Island, as I intend to call it, if I ever have the happiness to reach it again with all I love in the world. How graciously God permits us to derive blessings from our sorrows. See what my trial has produced me: a friend and two dear daughters, for henceforward we are only one family,”

“And for life,” cried my dear wife. “My dear husband, I knew you would come looking for me; but how could I ever expect you to actually find me? We won’t be apart again; this beloved friend has agreed to join us on the Happy Island, as I plan to call it, if I ever get the joy of reaching it again with everyone I love in the world. How wonderfully God allows us to find blessings in our sorrows. Look at what my struggle has given me: a friend and two dear daughters, because from now on we are one family.”

We were mutually delighted with this arrangement, and entreated Mr. Willis to visit us often, and to come and live in the Happy Island when his mission was completed.

We were both thrilled with this arrangement and urged Mr. Willis to visit us often and to come live in the Happy Island when his mission was finished.

“I will consent,” said he, “if you will come and assist me in my duties; for which purpose you and your sons must acquire the language of these islanders. We are much nearer your island than you think, for you took a very circuitous course, and Parabéry, who knows it, declares it is only a day’s voyage with a fair wind. And, moreover, he tells me, that he is so much delighted with you and your sons, that he cannot part with you, and wishes me to obtain your permission to accompany you, and remain with you. He will be exceedingly useful to you: will teach the language to you all, and will be a ready means of communication between us.”

“I'll agree,” he said, “if you come and help me with my work; for that, you and your sons need to learn the language of these islanders. We're much closer to your island than you think since you took a really roundabout way. Parabéry, who knows the route, says it’s just a day’s sail with a good wind. Plus, he tells me he enjoys your company so much that he can't bear to part with you, and he wants me to get your permission for him to join you and stay with you. He’ll be very helpful: he’ll teach you all the language and will make it easy for us to communicate.”

I gladly agreed to take Parabéry with us as a friend; but it was no time yet to think of departing, as Mr. Willis wished to have Jack some days longer under his care; we therefore arranged that I and my two sons should become his guests, as his hut was but a short distance off. We had many things to hear; but, as my wife was yet too weak to relate her adventures, we resolved first to have the history of Madame Hirtel. Night coming on, the missionary lighted a gourd lamp, and, after a light collation of bread-fruit, Madame Hirtel began her story.

I happily agreed to take Parabéry with us as a friend; however, it wasn't the right time to think about leaving yet, since Mr. Willis wanted to keep Jack under his care for a few more days. So, we decided that I and my two sons would stay as his guests, as his hut was just a short distance away. There was a lot we needed to learn, but since my wife was still too weak to share her experiences, we decided to start with Madame Hirtel's story. As night fell, the missionary lit a gourd lamp, and after a light snack of bread-fruit, Madame Hirtel began her tale.


CHAPTER LIV.

“My life,” she began, “passed without any remarkable events, till the misfortune occurred which brought me to this island. I was married, when very young, to Mr. Hirtel, a merchant at Hamburg, an excellent man, whose loss I have deeply felt. I was very happy in this union, arranged by my parents, and sanctioned by reason. We had three children, a son and two daughters, in the first three years of our marriage; and M. Hirtel, seeing his family increase so rapidly, wished to increase his income. An advantageous establishment was offered him in the Canary Islands; he accepted it, and prevailed on me to settle there, with my family, for some years. My parents were dead, I had no tie to detain me in Europe. I was going to see new regions, those fortunate isles I had heard so much of, and I set out joyfully with my husband and children, little foreseeing the misfortunes before me.

“My life,” she began, “went by without any significant events until the disaster that brought me to this island. I got married when I was very young to Mr. Hirtel, a merchant in Hamburg, a wonderful man whose loss I have felt deeply. I was very happy in this marriage, arranged by my parents and supported by reason. We had three children—a son and two daughters—in the first three years of our marriage; and Mr. Hirtel, noticing how quickly our family was growing, wanted to boost his income. He was offered a good opportunity in the Canary Islands; he accepted it and convinced me to move there with our family for a few years. My parents had passed away, and I had no ties holding me back in Europe. I was excited to see new places, those beautiful islands I had heard so much about, and I set out joyfully with my husband and children, not realizing the misfortunes that lay ahead of me.

“Our voyage was favourable; the children, like myself, were delighted with the novelties of it. I was then twenty-three years old; Sophia, seven; Matilda, six; and Alfred, our pretty, gentle boy, not yet five. Poor child! he was the darling and the plaything of all the crew.”

“Our journey was great; the kids, like me, were thrilled by all the new experiences. I was twenty-three at the time; Sophia was seven; Matilda was six; and Alfred, our sweet, gentle boy, had not yet turned five. Poor kid! He was the favorite and the plaything of the entire crew.”

She wept bitterly for a few moments, and then resumed her narration.

She cried hard for a few moments, and then continued her story.

“He was as fair as your own Francis, and greatly resembled him. We proceeded first to Bourdeaux, where my husband had a correspondent, with whom he had large dealings; by his means my husband was enabled to raise large sums for his new undertaking. We carried with us, in fact, nearly his whole fortune. We re-embarked under the most favourable auspices—the weather delightful, and the wind fair; but we very soon had a change; we were met by a terrible storm and hurricane, such as the sailors had never witnessed. For a week our ship was tossed about by contrary winds, driven into unknown seas, lost all its rigging, and was at last so broken, that the water poured in on all sides. All was lost, apparently; but, in this extremity, my husband made a last attempt to save us. He tied my daughters and myself firmly to a plank, taking the charge of my boy himself, as he feared the additional weight would be too much for our raft. His intention was to tie himself to another plank, to fasten this to ours, and, taking his son in his arms, to give us a chance of being carried to the shore, which did not appear far off. Whilst he was occupied in placing us, he gave Alfred to the care of a sailor who was particularly attached to him. I heard the man say, ‘Leave him with me, I will take care to save him.’ On this, M. Hirtel insisted on his restoring him, and I cried out that he should be given to me. At that moment the ship, which was already fallen on its side, filled rapidly with water, plunged, and disappeared with all on board. The plank on which I and my daughters were fixed alone floated, and I saw nothing but death and desolation round me.”

“He was as fair as your own Francis and looked a lot like him. We first went to Bordeaux, where my husband had a contact who he worked with a lot. Through him, my husband was able to raise a significant amount for his new project. We actually took nearly his entire fortune with us. We set sail again under the best conditions—the weather was lovely, and the wind was in our favor; but things quickly changed. We were hit by a terrible storm and hurricane that the sailors had never seen before. For a week, our ship was tossed around by opposing winds, taken into unknown waters, lost all its rigging, and ultimately became so damaged that water was pouring in from all sides. It seemed like everything was lost; but in this crisis, my husband made one last attempt to save us. He secured my daughters and me to a plank, while he took care of our son himself, fearing that the extra weight would be too much for our makeshift raft. His plan was to tie himself to another plank, attach it to ours, and carry his son in his arms to give us a chance of reaching the shore, which didn’t seem far away. As he was busy organizing us, he entrusted Alfred to a sailor who was particularly fond of him. I heard the man say, ‘Leave him with me; I’ll make sure he’s safe.’ At this, M. Hirtel insisted he return Alfred, and I shouted that he should be handed to me. Just then, the ship, which was already leaning on its side, quickly filled with water, sank, and vanished with everyone on board. The plank that my daughters and I were on was the only thing that floated, and all I could see around me was death and despair.”

Madame Hirtel paused, almost suffocated by the remembrance of that awful moment.

Madame Hirtel paused, nearly overwhelmed by the memory of that terrible moment.

“Poor woman!” said my wife, weeping, “it is five years since this misfortune. It was at the same time as our shipwreck, and was doubtless caused by the same storm. But how much more fortunate was I! I lost none that were dear to me, and we even had the vessel left for our use. But, my dear, unfortunate friend, by what miracle were you saved?”

“Poor woman!” my wife said, crying, “it’s been five years since that tragedy. It happened at the same time as our shipwreck, and it was probably caused by the same storm. But how much luckier I was! I didn’t lose any of my loved ones, and we even had the ship left for us. But, my dear, unfortunate friend, how were you saved?”

“It was He who only can work miracles,” said the missionary, “who cares for the widow and the orphan, and without whose word not a hair of the head can perish, who at that moment gave courage to the Christian mother.”

“It was He who alone can work miracles,” said the missionary, “who cares for the widow and the orphan, and without whose word not a hair on the head can perish, who at that moment gave strength to the Christian mother.”

“My strength,” continued she, “was nearly exhausted, when, after being tossed about by the furious waves, I found myself thrown upon what I supposed to be a sand-bank with my two children. I envied the state of my husband and son. If I had not been a mother, I should have wished to have followed them; but my two girls lay senseless at my side, and I was anxious, as I perceived they still breathed, to recover them. At the moment M. Hirtel pushed the raft into the water, he threw upon it a box bound with iron, which I grasped mechanically, and still held, when we were left on shore. It was not locked, yet it was with some difficulty, in my confined position, that I succeeded in opening it. It contained a quantity of gold and bank-notes, which I looked upon with contempt, and regret. But there was something useful in the box. In the morocco portfolio which contained the bank-notes, there were the usual little instruments—a knife, scissors, pencils, stiletto, and also a small bottle of Eau de Cologne, which was particularly serviceable in restoring my children. I began by cutting the cords that tied us. I then rubbed my dear children with the Eau de Cologne, made them inhale it, and even swallow a little. The wind was still blowing, but the clouds began to break, and the sun appeared, which dried and warmed us. My poor children opened their eyes, and knew me, and I felt I was not utterly comfortless; but their first words were to ask for their father and brother. I could not tell them they were no more. I tried to deceive myself, to support my strength, by a feeble and delusive hope. M. Hirtel swam well, the sailor still better; and the last words I had heard still rung in my ears—‘Do not be uneasy, I will save the child.’ If I saw anything floating at a distance, my heart began to beat, and I ran towards the water; but I saw it was only wreck, which I could not even reach. Some pieces were, however, thrown on shore, and with these and our own raft I was enabled to make a sort of shelter, by resting them against a rock. My poor children, by crouching under this, sheltered themselves from the rain, or from the rays of the sun. I had the good fortune to preserve a large beaver hat, which I wore at the time, and this protected me; but these resources gave me little consolation; my children were complaining of hunger, and I felt only how much we were in want of. I had seen a shell-fish on the shore, resembling the oyster, or muscle. I collected some, and, opening them with my knife, we made a repast on them, which sufficed for the first day. Night came—my children offered up their evening prayer, and I earnestly besought the succour of the Almighty. I then lay down beside my babes on our raft, as conveniently as we could, and they soon slept. The fearful thoughts of the past, and dreadful anticipations of the future, prevented me from sleeping. My situation was indeed melancholy; but I felt, as a mother, I ought not to wish for death.

“My strength,” she continued, “was nearly gone when, after being tossed around by the raging waves, I found myself washed up on what I thought was a sandbank with my two children. I envied my husband and son’s fate. If I hadn’t been a mother, I would have wanted to follow them; but my two girls were unconscious beside me, and I was anxious to revive them, as I noticed they were still breathing. Just as M. Hirtel pushed the raft into the water, he threw a box bound with iron onto it, which I grabbed instinctively and still held when we reached the shore. It wasn’t locked, but it was a struggle to open it in my cramped position. Inside, I found a lot of gold and banknotes, which I regarded with disdain and regret. But there was something useful in the box. In the leather portfolio with the banknotes were the usual little tools—a knife, scissors, pencils, a stiletto, and also a small bottle of Eau de Cologne, which proved particularly helpful in reviving my children. I started by cutting the cords that held us. Then I rubbed my dear children with the Eau de Cologne, made them inhale it, and even let them swallow a little. The wind was still blowing, but the clouds began to break, and the sun came out, drying and warming us. My poor children opened their eyes and recognized me, which made me feel a bit less alone; but their first words were to ask for their father and brother. I couldn’t tell them they were gone. I tried to convince myself, to find strength, with a weak and misleading hope. M. Hirtel could swim well, and the sailor could swim even better; and the last words I heard still echoed in my mind—‘Don’t worry, I will save the child.’ Whenever I spotted something floating in the distance, my heart raced, and I ran toward the water, but it was only wreckage, which I couldn’t reach. Some pieces, however, washed up on shore, and with these and our own raft, I managed to create a kind of shelter by leaning them against a rock. My poor children huddled under it to protect themselves from the rain and the sun. I was lucky to have kept a large beaver hat that I was wearing at the time, which helped shield me; but these resources brought me little comfort; my children were complaining of hunger, and I felt how much we were lacking. I had seen some shellfish on the shore that looked like oysters or mussels. I gathered some, opened them with my knife, and we made a meal out of them, which was enough for our first day. Night fell—my children said their evening prayers, and I earnestly asked the Almighty for help. I then lay down beside my little ones on our raft as comfortably as we could, and they soon fell asleep. The horrifying memories of the past and dreadful concerns for the future kept me awake. My situation was indeed bleak; but as a mother, I felt I shouldn’t wish for death.

“As soon as day broke, I went close to the shore, to seek some shell-fish for our breakfast. In crossing the sand, I nearly plunged my foot into a hole, and fancied I heard a crash. I stooped, and putting my hand into the opening, found it was full of eggs; I had broken two or three, which I tasted, and thought very good. From the colour, form, and taste, I knew them to be turtle’s eggs; there were at least sixty, so I had no more care about food. I carried away in my apron as many as I could preserve from the rays of the sun: this I endeavoured to effect by burying them in the sand, and covering them with one end of our plank, and succeeded very well. Besides these, there were as many to be found on the shore as we required; I have sometimes found as many as ninety together. These were our sole support while we remained there: my children liked them very much. I forgot to add, that I was fortunate enough to discover a stream of fresh water, running into the sea; it was the same which runs past this house, and which conducted me here. The first day we suffered greatly from thirst, but on the second we met with the stream which saved us. I will not tire you by relating day by day our sad life; every one was the same, and took away by degrees every hope from me. As long as I dared to indulge any, I could not bear to leave the shore; but at last it became insupportable to me. I was worn out with gazing continually on that boundless horizon, and that moving crystal which had swallowed up my hopes. I pined for the verdure and shade of trees. Although I had contrived to make for my daughters little hats of a marine rush, they suffered much from the extreme heat,—the burning rays of a tropical sun. I decided at last to abandon that sandy shore; to penetrate, at all risks, into the country, in order to seek a shady and cooler abode, and to escape from the view of that sea which was so painful to me. I resolved not to quit the stream which was so precious to us, for, not having any vessel to contain water, I could not carry it with us. Sophia, who is naturally quick, formed, from a large leaf, a sort of goblet, which served us to drink from; and I filled my pockets with turtles’ eggs, as provision for a few days. I then set off with my two children, after praying the God of all mercy to watch over us; and, taking leave of the vast tomb which held my husband and my son, I never lost sight of the stream; if any obstacle obliged me to turn a little way from it, I soon recovered my path. My eldest daughter, who was very strong and robust, followed me stoutly, as I took care not to walk too far without resting; but I was often compelled to carry my little Matilda on my shoulders. Both were delighted with the shade of the woods, and were so amused with the delightful birds that inhabited them, and a pretty little sportive green monkey, that they became as playful as ever. They sang and prattled; but often asked me if papa and Alfred would not soon return to see these pretty creatures, and if we were going to seek them. These words rent my heart, and I thought it best then to tell them they would meet no more on earth, and that they were both gone to heaven, to that good God to whom they prayed morning and evening. Sophia was very thoughtful, and the tears ran down her cheeks: ‘I will pray to God more than ever,’ said she, ‘that he may make them happy, and send them back to us,’ ‘Mamma,’ said Matilda, ‘have we left the sea to go to heaven? Shall we soon be there? And shall we see beautiful birds like these?’ We walked on very slowly, making frequent rests, till night drew on, and it was necessary to find a place for repose. I fixed on a sort of thick grove, which I could only enter by stooping; it was formed of one tree, whose branches, reaching the ground, take root there, and soon produce other stems, which follow the same course, and become, in time, an almost impenetrable thicket. Here I found a place for us to lie down, which appeared sheltered from wild beasts or savages, whom I equally dreaded. We had still some eggs, which we ate; but I saw with fear that the time approached when we must have more food, which I knew not where to find. I saw, indeed, some fruits on the trees, but I did not know them, and feared to give them to my children, who wished to have them. I saw also cocoa-nuts, but quite out of my reach; and even if I could have got them, I did not know how to open them. The tree under whose branches we had found protection was, I conjectured, an American fig-tree; it bore a quantity of fruit, very small and red, and like the European fig. I ventured to taste them, and found them inferior to ours,—insipid and soft,—but, I thought, quite harmless. I remarked that the little green monkeys ate them greedily, so I had no more fear, and allowed my children to regale themselves. I was much more afraid of wild beasts during the night; however, I had seen nothing worse than some little quadrupeds resembling the rabbit or squirrel, which came in numbers to shelter themselves during the night under our tree. The children wished to catch one, but I could not undertake to increase my charge. We had a quiet night, and were early awaked by the songs of the birds. How delighted I was to have escaped the noise of the waves, and to feel the freshness of the woods, and the perfume of the flowers, with which my children made garlands, to decorate my head and their own! These ornaments, during this time of mourning and bereavement, affected me painfully, and I was weak enough to forbid them this innocent pleasure; I tore away my garland, and threw it into the rivulet. ‘Gather flowers,’ said I, ‘but do not dress yourselves in them; they are no fitting ornaments for us; your father and Alfred cannot see them.’ They were silent and sad, and threw their garlands into the water, as I had done.

“As soon as the day broke, I went close to the shore to look for some shellfish for our breakfast. While crossing the sand, I almost stepped into a hole and thought I heard a crash. I bent down and put my hand into the opening, discovering it was full of eggs. I broke a few, tasted them, and thought they were pretty good. From their color, shape, and taste, I recognized them as turtle eggs; there were at least sixty, so I didn’t have to worry about food anymore. I carried as many as I could protect from the sun's rays in my apron, trying to keep them cool by burying them in the sand and covering them with one end of our plank, which worked well. Besides these, there were plenty more on the shore as needed; I’ve sometimes found up to ninety at once. These were our only nourishment while we stayed there: my kids loved them. I forgot to mention that I was lucky enough to find a stream of fresh water flowing into the sea; it was the same one that runs past this house and led me here. The first day we suffered greatly from thirst, but on the second day we discovered the stream that saved us. I won’t bore you with the details of our sad lives day by day; each day was the same and gradually took away all my hope. As long as I dared to hold onto any hope, I couldn’t bear to leave the shore, but eventually, it became unbearable. I was exhausted from staring at that endless horizon and that moving water that had swallowed my hopes. I longed for the greenery and shade of trees. Although I managed to make my daughters little hats from a marine rush, they suffered a lot from the intense heat of the tropical sun. I finally decided to leave that sandy shore; to push deeper into the land, no matter the risks, in search of a cooler and shadier place, and to escape the sight of that sea which was so painful for me. I resolved not to leave the stream that was so precious to us because, without any container for water, I couldn’t take it with us. Sophia, who is naturally clever, fashioned a sort of cup from a large leaf that we used to drink from; I stuffed my pockets with turtle eggs as provisions for a few days. Then I set off with my two children after praying to God for mercy to watch over us; and, bidding farewell to the vast tomb that held my husband and my son, I never lost sight of the stream. If any obstacle forced me to stray a bit from it, I soon found my way back. My oldest daughter, who was very strong and healthy, followed me steadily while I made sure to rest often; but I frequently had to carry my little Matilda on my back. Both were thrilled with the shade of the woods and were so entertained by the lovely birds living there, as well as a playful little green monkey, that they became as cheerful as ever. They sang and chatted, but often asked me if papa and Alfred would soon return to see these beautiful creatures, and if we were going to find them. Those words broke my heart, and I thought it was best to tell them they wouldn’t see them again on earth, and that they had both gone to heaven, to that good God to whom they prayed morning and evening. Sophia seemed very thoughtful, and tears rolled down her cheeks: 'I will pray to God more than ever,' she said, 'that He may make them happy and send them back to us.' 'Mommy,' said Matilda, 'did we leave the sea to go to heaven? Will we get there soon? And will we see beautiful birds like these?' We moved slowly, taking frequent breaks, until night fell, and we needed to find a place to rest. I spotted a thick grove that I could only enter by stooping; it was formed by one tree whose branches reached down to the ground and took root there, soon producing other stems that followed the same path, eventually forming an almost impenetrable thicket. Here, I found a spot for us to lie down that seemed safe from wild beasts and savages, both of which I feared. We still had some eggs to eat, but I noticed with concern that the time was approaching when we would need more food, which I didn’t know where to find. I did see some fruits on the trees, but I didn’t recognize them, and I was afraid to give them to my children, who wanted to try them. I also saw coconuts, but they were way out of my reach; and even if I had gotten them, I wouldn’t have known how to open them. The tree that provided us shelter was, I guessed, an American fig tree; it had a lot of small, red fruit that resembled the European fig. I took a chance and tasted them, finding them inferior to our figs—bland and mushy—but I thought they were harmless. I noticed that the little green monkeys ate them eagerly, so I felt reassured and let my children enjoy them. I was much more frightened of wild animals at night; however, I hadn’t seen anything worse than some little animals resembling rabbits or squirrels, which came in numbers to take shelter under our tree during the night. The kids wanted to catch one, but I couldn’t take on any more responsibility. We had a peaceful night and were awakened early by the songs of the birds. How relieved I was to have escaped the noise of the waves and to experience the freshness of the woods, along with the fragrance of the flowers, which my children used to make garlands to decorate my head and their own! These decorations, in this period of mourning and loss, affected me painfully, and I was weak enough to prevent them from having this innocent pleasure; I tore off my garland and threw it into the stream. 'Gather flowers,' I said, 'but don’t adorn yourselves with them; they aren’t suitable for us; your father and Alfred can’t see them.' They fell silent and looked sad, and tossed their garlands into the water, just as I had done.”

“We followed the stream, and passed two more nights under the trees. We had the good fortune to find more figs; but they did not satisfy us, and our eggs were exhausted. In my distress I almost decided to return to the shore, where we might at least meet with that nourishment. As I sat by the stream, reflecting mournfully on our situation, the children, who had been throwing stones into the water, cried out, ‘Look, mamma, what pretty fishes!’ I saw, indeed, a quantity of small salmon-trout in the river; but how could I take them? I tried to seize them with my hands, but could not catch them; necessity, however, is the mother of invention. I cut a number of branches with my knife, and wove them together to make a kind of light hurdle, the breadth of the stream, which was very narrow just here. I made two of these; my daughters assisted me, and were soon very skilful. We then undressed ourselves, and took a bath, which refreshed us much. I placed one of my hurdles upright across the rivulet, and the second a little lower. The fishes who remained between attempted to pass, but the hurdles were woven too close. We watched for them attempting the other passage; many escaped us, but we captured sufficient for our dinner. We threw them out upon the grass, at a distance from the stream, so that they could not leap back. My daughters had taken more than I; but the sensible Sophia threw back those we did not require, to give them pleasure, she said, and Matilda did the same, to see them leap. We then removed our hurdles, dressed ourselves, and I began to consider how I should cook my fish; for I had no fire, and had never kindled one myself. However, I had often seen Mr. Hirtel, who was a smoker, light his pipe by means of the flint and steel; they were in the precious morocco case, together with tinder and matches. I tried to strike a light, and after some difficulty succeeded. I collected the fragments of the branches used for the hurdles, the children gathered some dry leaves, and I had soon a bright, lively fire, which I was delighted to see, notwithstanding the heat of the climate. I scraped the scales from the fish with my knife, washed them in the rivulet, and then placed them on the fire to broil; this was my apprenticeship in the art of cookery. I thought how useful it would be to give young ladies some knowledge of the useful arts; for who can foresee what they may need? Our European dinner delighted us as much as the bath and the fishing which had preceded it. I decided to fix our residence at the side of the rivulet, and beneath the fig-trees; my only objection being the fear of missing some passing vessel which might carry us back to Europe. But can you understand my feelings, when I confess to you that, although overcome by sorrow and desolation, having lost husband, son, and fortune, knowing that in order to support myself and bring up my children I must depend upon my friends, and to attain this having to hazard again the dangers of the sea, the very thought of which made me shudder, I should prefer to remain where Providence had brought me, and live calmly without obligation to any one? I might certainly have some difficulty in procuring the means of supporting a life which was dear to me for the sake of my children; but even this was an employment and an amusement. My children would early learn to bear privations, to content themselves with a simple and frugal life, and to labour for their own support. I might teach them all that I knew would be useful to them in future, and above all, impress upon their young minds the great truths of our holy religion. By bringing this constantly before their unsophisticated understanding, I might hope they would draw from it the necessary virtues of resignation and contentment. I was only twenty-three years of age, and might hope, by God’s mercy, to be spared to them some time, and in the course of years who knew what might happen? Besides we were not so far from the sea but that I might visit it sometimes, if it were only to seek for turtles’ eggs. I remained then under our fig-tree at night, and by day on the borders of the stream.”

“We followed the stream and spent two more nights under the trees. We were lucky enough to find more figs, but they didn’t satisfy us, and we were out of eggs. In my distress, I almost decided to go back to the shore, where at least we might find that food. While sitting by the stream, sadly thinking about our situation, the kids, who had been tossing stones into the water, shouted, ‘Look, Mom, what pretty fish!’ I did see quite a few small salmon-trout in the river, but how could I catch them? I tried to grab them with my hands but couldn’t catch any; however, necessity is the mother of invention. I cut several branches with my knife and wove them together to create a kind of light barrier across the narrow part of the stream. I made two of these, and my daughters helped me and quickly became very skilled at it. Then we undressed and took a bath, which refreshed us a lot. I positioned one of my barriers upright across the stream and the second a bit lower. The fish that remained between tried to get past, but the barriers were woven too tightly. We watched for them trying to swim through the other passage; many got away, but we caught enough for our dinner. We tossed them onto the grass, away from the stream, so they couldn’t jump back. My daughters caught more than I did, but sensible Sophia threw back the ones we didn’t need, saying it was to give them joy, and Matilda did the same just to watch them jump. After that, we took down our barriers, got dressed, and I started thinking about how to cook the fish since I had no fire and had never started one myself. However, I had often seen Mr. Hirtel, a smoker, light his pipe using flint and steel, which were in a fancy leather case along with tinder and matches. I tried to spark a flame, and after some difficulty, I succeeded. I gathered the leftover branches from the barriers, the kids gathered some dry leaves, and soon I had a bright, lively fire, which I was thrilled to see, despite the heat. I scraped the scales off the fish with my knife, washed them in the stream, and then put them on the fire to cook; this was my introduction to cooking. I thought about how great it would be for young ladies to know some practical skills, because you never know what they might need. Our European-style dinner made us as happy as the bath and fishing that came before it. I decided to make our home by the stream and under the fig trees; my only concern was the fear of missing some passing ship that might take us back to Europe. But can you understand my feelings when I confess that, despite being overcome with sorrow and despair over losing my husband, son, and fortune, and knowing I had to rely on friends to support myself and my children, risking the sea again, which terrified me, I would still prefer to stay where Providence had brought me and live peacefully without being obligated to anyone? Of course, I might have some trouble providing for a life I valued for the sake of my children, but even this was a job and an adventure. My children would learn early how to deal with hardships, to be content with a simple and frugal life, and to work for their own support. I could teach them everything I knew that would be useful to them in the future, and above all, instill the important truths of our holy religion. By constantly bringing this before their innocent minds, I hoped they would develop the necessary virtues of resignation and contentment. I was only twenty-three and might hope, by God’s mercy, to be with them for some time, and who knows what might happen over the years? Besides, we weren’t too far from the sea, so I could visit it sometimes, even if it was just to look for turtle eggs. So, I stayed under our fig tree at night and by the stream during the day.”

“It was under a fig-tree, also,” said my wife, “that I have spent four happy years of my life. Unknown to each other, our fate has been similar; but henceforward I hope we shall not be separated.”

“It was under a fig tree, too,” my wife said, “that I spent four happy years of my life. Without knowing each other, our paths have been similar; but from now on, I hope we won't be apart.”

Madame Hirtel embraced her kind friend, and observing that the evening was advanced, and that my wife, after such agitation, needed repose, we agreed to defer till next day the conclusion of the interesting narrative. My elder sons and myself followed the missionary to his hut, which resembled the king’s palace, though it was smaller; it was constructed of bamboos, bound together, and the intervals filled with moss and clay; it was covered in the same way, and was tolerably solid. A mat in one corner, without any covering, formed his bed; but he brought out a bear’s skin, which he used in winter, and which he now spread on the ground for us. I had observed a similar one in the grotto, and he told us we should hear the history of these skins next day, in the continuation of the story of Emily, or Mimi, as she was affectionately called by all. We retired to our couch, after a prayer from Mr. Willis; and for the first time since my dear wife was taken from me, I slept in peace.

Madame Hirtel hugged her good friend, and seeing that the evening was late and that my wife needed some rest after all the excitement, we decided to postpone the conclusion of the captivating story until the next day. My older sons and I followed the missionary to his hut, which was like the king’s palace, though smaller; it was made of bamboo, tied together, with the gaps filled with moss and clay. The roof was made the same way, and it was pretty sturdy. In one corner, a mat without any cover served as his bed, but he took out a bear's skin that he used in winter and spread it on the ground for us. I had seen a similar one in the grotto, and he mentioned we would hear the story behind these skins the next day when we continued Emily's tale, or Mimi, as everyone affectionately called her. After a prayer from Mr. Willis, we settled down to sleep, and for the first time since my dear wife passed away, I slept peacefully.


CHAPTER LV.

We went to the grotto early in the morning, and found our two invalids much improved: my wife had slept better, and Mr. Willis found Jack’s wound going on well. Madame Mimi told her daughters to prepare breakfast: they went out and soon returned, with a native woman and a boy of four or five years old, carrying newly-made rush baskets filled with all sorts of fruit: figs, guavas, strawberries, cocoa-nuts, and the bread-fruit.

We went to the grotto early in the morning and found our two patients doing much better: my wife had slept well, and Mr. Willis saw that Jack’s wound was healing nicely. Madame Mimi instructed her daughters to get breakfast ready. They went out and soon came back with a local woman and a boy about four or five years old, carrying freshly made rush baskets filled with all kinds of fruit: figs, guavas, strawberries, coconuts, and breadfruit.

“I must introduce you,” said Emily, “to the rest of my family: this is Canda, the wife of your friend Parabéry, and this is their son, Minou-minou, whom I regard as my own. Your Elizabeth is already attached to them, and bespeaks your friendship for them. They will follow us to the Happy Island.”

“I need to introduce you,” said Emily, “to the rest of my family: this is Canda, the wife of your friend Parabéry, and this is their son, Minou-minou, who I see as my own. Your Elizabeth is already close to them, and shows your friendship for them. They will join us at the Happy Island.”

“Oh, if you knew,” said Francis, “what a well-behaved boy Minou is! He can climb trees, run, and leap, though he is less than I am. He must be my friend.”

“Oh, if you only knew,” said Francis, “what a good boy Minou is! He can climb trees, run, and jump, even though he’s smaller than I am. He has to be my friend.”

“And Canda,” said Elizabeth, “shall be our assistant and friend.”

“And Canda,” Elizabeth said, “will be our assistant and friend.”

She gave her hand to Canda, I did the same, and caressed the boy, who seemed delighted with me, and, to my great surprise, spoke to me in very good German—the mother, too, knew several words of the language. They busied themselves with our breakfast: opened the cocoa-nuts, and poured the milk into the shells, after separating the kernel; they arranged the fruits on the trunk of a tree, which served for a table, and did great credit to the talent of their instructress.

She offered her hand to Canda, and I did the same, gently stroking the boy, who seemed really happy to see me. To my surprise, he spoke to me in very good German—the mother also knew a few words of the language. They got to work on our breakfast: opened the coconuts and poured the milk into the shells after taking out the meat; they arranged the fruits on a tree trunk, which served as our table, showcasing the talent of their teacher.

“I should have liked to have offered you coffee,” said Madame Hirtel, “which grows in this island, but having no utensils for roasting, grinding, or preparing it, it has been useless to me, and I have not even gathered it.”

“I would have liked to offer you coffee,” said Madame Hirtel, “which grows on this island, but since I have no tools for roasting, grinding, or making it, it has been useless to me, and I haven't even collected it.”

“Do you think, my dear, that it would grow in our island?” said my wife to me, in some anxiety.

“Do you think, my dear, that it would grow on our island?” my wife asked me, a bit anxious.

I then recollected, for the first time, how fond my wife was of coffee, which, in Europe, had always been her favourite breakfast. There would certainly be in the ship some bags, which I might have brought away; but I had never thought of it, and my unselfish wife, not seeing it, had never named it, except once wishing we had some to plant in the garden. Now that there was a probability of obtaining it, she confessed that coffee and bread were the only luxuries she regretted. I promised to try and cultivate it in our island; foreseeing, however, that it would probably not be of the best quality, I told her she must not expect Mocha; but her long privation from this delicious beverage had made her less fastidious, and she assured me it would be a treat to her. After breakfast, we begged Madame Hirtel to resume her interesting narrative. She continued:

I then remembered, for the first time, how much my wife loved coffee, which had always been her favorite breakfast in Europe. There were surely some bags on the ship that I could have taken; but I hadn't thought of it, and my selfless wife, not noticing it, never mentioned it, except once when she wished we had some to plant in the garden. Now that there was a chance of getting it, she admitted that coffee and bread were the only luxuries she missed. I promised to try and grow it on our island; knowing that it probably wouldn't be the best quality, I told her not to expect Mocha. But her long absence from this delicious drink had made her less picky, and she assured me it would be a treat for her. After breakfast, we asked Madame Hirtel to continue her fascinating story. She picked up:

“After the reflections on my situation, which I told you of last night, I determined only to return to the sea-shore, when our food failed us in the woods; but I acquired other means of procuring it. Encouraged by the success of my fishing, I made a sort of net from the filaments of the bark of a tree and a plant resembling hemp. With these I succeeded in catching some birds: one, resembling our thrush, was very fat, and of delicious flavour. I had the greatest difficulty in overcoming my repugnance to taking away their life; nothing but the obligation of preserving our own could have reconciled me to it. My children plucked them; I then spitted them on a slender branch and roasted them before the fire. I also found some nests of eggs, which I concluded were those of the wild ducks which frequented our stream. I made myself acquainted with all the fruits which the monkeys and parroquets eat, and which were not out of my reach. I found a sort of acorn which had the flavour of a nut. The children also discovered plenty of large strawberries, a delicious repast; and I found a quantity of honeycomb in the hollow of a tree, which I obtained by stupifying the bees with a smoking brand.

After thinking about my situation, which I shared with you last night, I decided that I would only head back to the beach when our food ran out in the woods. However, I found other ways to get food. Encouraged by how well my fishing went, I made a type of net from the fibers of tree bark and a plant that looked like hemp. With this, I managed to catch some birds: one that was similar to a thrush was very plump and delicious. I struggled a lot with the idea of taking their lives; only the need to keep my family alive made me feel okay about it. My children plucked the feathers, and then I skewered them on a thin branch and roasted them over the fire. I also found some nests with eggs, which I guessed belonged to the wild ducks that lived near our stream. I learned about all the fruits that monkeys and parrots eat that I could reach. I came across a type of acorn that tasted like a nut. The kids also found a lot of big strawberries, which made a lovely meal, and I discovered a stash of honeycomb in the hollow of a tree, which I got by making the bees sleepy with a smoking stick.

“I took care to mark down every day on the blank leaves of my pocket-book. I had now marked thirty days of my wandering life on the border of the river, for I never strayed beyond the sound of its waters. Still I kept continually advancing towards the interior of the island. I had yet met with nothing alarming, and the weather had been most favourable; but we were not long to enjoy this comfort. The rainy season came on: and one night, to my great distress, I heard it descend in torrents. We were no longer under our fig-tree, which would have sheltered us for a considerable time. The tree under which we now were had tempted me by having several cavities between the roots, filled with soft moss, which formed natural couches, but the foliage was very thin, and we were soon drenched completely. I crept near my poor children to protect them a little, but in vain; our little bed was soon filled with water, and we were compelled to leave it. Our clothes were so heavy with the rain that we could scarcely stand; and the night was so dark that we could see no road, and ran the risk of falling, or striking against some tree, if we moved. My children wept, and I trembled for their health, and for my own, which was so necessary to them. This was one of the most terrible nights of my pilgrimage. My children and I knelt down, and I prayed to our Heavenly Father for strength to bear this trial, if it was his will to continue it. I felt consolation and strength from my prayers, and rose with courage and confidence; and though the rain continued unabated, I waited with resignation the pleasure of the Almighty. I reconciled my children to our situation; and Sophia told me she had asked her father, who was near the gracious God, to entreat Him to send no more rain, but let the sun come back. I assured them God would not forget them; they began to be accustomed to the rain, only Sophia begged they might take off their clothes, and then it would be like a bath in the brook. I consented to this, thinking they would be less liable to suffer than by wearing their wet garments.

“I made sure to note down each day in the blank pages of my pocketbook. I had now recorded thirty days of my wandering life along the riverbank, as I never ventured beyond the sound of its waters. Still, I kept moving further into the island. I hadn’t encountered anything too alarming, and the weather had been quite favorable; but we wouldn’t enjoy this comfort for long. The rainy season arrived, and one night, to my great distress, I heard it pouring down. We were no longer under our fig tree, which could have sheltered us for quite a while. The tree we were under now had caught my attention because it had several hollows between the roots filled with soft moss, making natural beds, but the leaves were sparse, and we soon got completely soaked. I huddled close to my poor children to protect them, but it was useless; our little bed quickly filled with water, forcing us to leave it. Our clothes were so heavy with rain that we could barely stand, and the night was so dark we couldn’t see a path, risking a fall or bumping into a tree if we moved. My children cried, and I worried for their health, and for my own, which was so crucial for them. This was one of the most dreadful nights of my journey. My children and I knelt down, and I prayed to our Heavenly Father for strength to endure this trial if it was His will to keep it going. I felt comfort and strength from my prayers, and I stood up with courage and confidence; and even though the rain kept pouring, I waited with acceptance for the will of the Almighty. I reassured my children about our situation; Sophia told me she had asked her father, who was close to the gracious God, to plead with Him to stop the rain and let the sun shine again. I assured them that God would not forget them; they started to get used to the rain, and only Sophia asked if they could take off their clothes, thinking it would be like a bath in the stream. I agreed to this, believing they would be better off without their wet clothes.”

“The day began to break, and I determined to walk on without stopping, in order to warm ourselves by the motion; and to try to find some cave, some hollow tree, or some tree with thick foliage, to shelter us the next night.

“The day started to dawn, and I decided to keep walking without stopping, so we could warm up from the movement; and to look for a cave, a hollow tree, or a tree with thick leaves to shelter us for the next night.”

“I undressed the children, and made a bundle of their clothes, which I would have carried myself, but I found they would not be too heavy for them, and I judged it best to accustom them early to the difficulties, fatigue, and labour, which would be their lot; and to attend entirely on themselves; I, therefore, divided the clothes into two unequal bundles, proportioned to their strength, and having made a knot in each, I passed a slender branch through it, and showed them how to carry it on their shoulders.

“I took the children's clothes off and made a bundle out of them. I could have carried it myself, but I realized it wouldn’t be too heavy for them, and I thought it was best to get them used to the challenges, tiredness, and hard work that they would face. I wanted them to rely on themselves, so I split the clothes into two uneven bundles based on their strength. After tying a knot in each bundle, I slipped a thin branch through it and showed them how to carry it on their shoulders.”

“When I saw them walking before me in this savage fashion, with their little white bodies exposed to the storm, I could not refrain from tears. I blamed myself for condemning them to such an existence, and thought of returning to the shore, where some vessel might rescue us; but we were now too far off to set about it. I continued to proceed with much more difficulty than my children, who had nothing on but their shoes and large hats. I carried the valuable box, in which I had placed the remains of our last night’s supper, an act of necessary prudence, as there was neither fishing nor hunting now.

“When I saw them walking in front of me in such a wild way, with their little white bodies exposed to the storm, I couldn't help but cry. I felt guilty for putting them in such a situation, and I thought about going back to the shore, where some boat might save us; but we were now too far to consider that. I moved on with much more difficulty than my kids, who were only wearing their shoes and big hats. I was carrying the valuable box where I had put the leftovers from our dinner the night before, which was a necessary precaution since there was no fishing or hunting now.”

“As the day advanced, the rain diminished, and even the sun appeared above the horizon.

“As the day went on, the rain lessened, and even the sun came out from behind the horizon.

“‘Look, my darlings,’ said I, ‘God has heard us, and sent his sun to warm and cheer us. Let us thank him,’

“‘Look, my darlings,’ I said, ‘God has heard us and sent His sun to warm and cheer us. Let’s thank Him,’”

“‘Papa has begged it of him!’ said Matilda. ‘Oh! mamma, let us pray him to send Alfred back!’

“‘Dad has begged him for it!’ said Matilda. ‘Oh! Mom, let’s ask him to send Alfred back!’”

“My poor little girl bitterly regretted the loss of her brother. Even now she can scarcely hear his name without tears. When the savages brought Francis to us, she at first took him for her brother. ‘Oh, how you have grown in heaven!’ cried she; and, after she discovered he was not her brother, she often said to him, ‘How I wish your name was Alfred!’

“My poor little girl deeply regretted losing her brother. Even now, she can hardly hear his name without crying. When the savages brought Francis to us, she initially thought he was her brother. ‘Oh, how you have grown in heaven!’ she exclaimed; and after realizing he wasn’t her brother, she often told him, ‘How I wish your name was Alfred!’”

“Forgive me for dwelling so long on the details of my wretched journey, which was not without its comforts, in the pleasure I took in the development of my children’s minds, and in forming plans for their future education. Though anything relating to science, or the usual accomplishments, would be useless to them, I did not wish to bring them up like young savages; I hoped to be able to communicate much useful knowledge to them, and to give them juster ideas of this world and that to come.

“Please forgive me for spending so much time on the details of my difficult journey, which had its comforts, especially in the joy I found in nurturing my children’s minds and planning for their future education. Even though anything related to science or typical skills wouldn’t benefit them, I didn’t want to raise them like unrefined children; I hoped to share valuable knowledge with them and help them form a clearer understanding of this world and the next.”

“As soon as the sun had dried them, I made them put on their dresses, and we continued our walk by the brook, till we arrived at the grove which is before this rock. I removed the branches to pass through it, and saw beyond them the entrance to this grotto. It was very low and narrow; but I could not help uttering a cry of joy, for this was the only sort of retreat that could securely shelter us. I was going to enter it without thought, not reflecting there might be in it some ferocious animal, when I was arrested by a plaintive cry, more like that of a child than a wild beast; I advanced with more caution, and tried to find out what sort of an inhabitant the cave contained. It was indeed a human being!—an infant, whose age I could not discover; but it seemed too young to walk, and was, besides, tied up in leaves and moss, enclosed in a piece of bark, which was much torn and rent. The poor infant uttered the most piteous cries, and I did not hesitate a moment to enter the cave, and to take the innocent little creature in my arms; it ceased its cries as soon as it felt the warmth of my cheek; but it was evidently in want of food, and I had nothing to give it but some figs, of which I pressed the juice into its mouth; this seemed to satisfy it, and, rocking it in my arms, it soon went to sleep. I had then time to examine it, and to look round the cave. From the size and form of the face, I concluded it might be older than I had first thought; and I recollected to have read that the savages carried their children swaddled up in this way, even till they could walk. The complexion of the child was a pale olive, which I have since discovered is the natural complexion of the natives, before the exposure to the heat of the sun gives them the bronze hue you have seen; the features were good, except that the lips were thicker and the mouth larger than those of the Europeans. My two girls were charmed with it, and caressed it with great joy. I left them to rock it gently in its cradle of bark, till I went round this cave, which I intended for my palace, and which I have never quitted. You see it—the form is not changed; but, since Heaven has sent me a friend,” looking at the missionary, “it is adorned with furniture and utensils which have completed my comforts. But to return.

“As soon as the sun dried them, I had them put on their dresses, and we continued our walk by the creek until we reached the grove in front of this rock. I pushed aside the branches to get through and saw the entrance to this cave beyond them. It was very low and narrow; but I couldn’t help letting out a cry of joy because this was the kind of refuge that could reliably shelter us. I was about to enter without thinking, not realizing there might be a wild animal inside, when I was stopped by a mournful cry that sounded more like a child than a wild beast. I approached with more caution and tried to find out what kind of inhabitant the cave had. It was indeed a human being!—an infant, whose age I couldn't determine; it seemed too young to walk and was wrapped in leaves and moss, enclosed in a piece of bark that was quite torn. The poor infant let out the most pitiful cries, and I didn't hesitate to enter the cave and take the innocent little creature in my arms; it stopped crying as soon as it felt the warmth of my cheek, but it clearly needed food, and I had nothing to give it except some figs, from which I pressed the juice into its mouth; this seemed to satisfy it, and, rocking it in my arms, it soon fell asleep. I then had time to examine it and look around the cave. From the size and shape of its face, I guessed it might be older than I initially thought; I remembered reading that the natives wrapped their children up like this until they could walk. The child’s skin was a pale olive, which I later learned is the natural complexion of the natives, before exposure to the sun gives them the bronze hue you’ve seen; the features were good, except the lips were thicker and the mouth larger than those of Europeans. My two girls were delighted with it and lovingly caressed it. I left them to gently rock it in its cradle of bark while I explored this cave, which I intended to be my palace and which I've never left. You can see it—it hasn’t changed much; but since Heaven has sent me a friend,” looking at the missionary, “it’s now furnished with items that have made my life more comfortable. But back to the story.”

“The grotto was spacious, and irregular in form. In a hollow I found, with surprise, a sort of bed, carefully arranged with moss, dry leaves, and small twigs. I was alarmed. Was this grotto inhabited by men or by wild beasts? In either case, it was dangerous to remain here. I encouraged a hope, however, that, from the infant being here, the mother must be the inhabitant, and that, on her return, finding me nursing her child, she might be induced to share her asylum with us. I could not, however, reconcile this hope with the circumstance of the child being abandoned in this open cave.

“The grotto was spacious and uneven in shape. In a hollow, I unexpectedly found a sort of bed, carefully made with moss, dry leaves, and small twigs. I felt uneasy. Was this grotto occupied by people or wild animals? Either way, it was risky to stay here. However, I held onto the hope that, since a baby was here, the mother must be the inhabitant, and that when she returned, she might allow me to share her shelter. Still, I couldn't quite reconcile this hope with the fact that the baby had been left here in this open cave.”

“As I was considering whether I ought to remain, or leave the cave, I heard strange cries at a distance, mingled with the screams of my children, who came running to me for protection, bringing with them the young savage, who fortunately was only half awaked, and soon went to sleep again, sucking a fig. I laid him gently on the bed of leaves, and told my daughters to remain near him in a dark corner; then, stepping cautiously, I ventured to look out to discover what was passing, without being seen. The noise approached nearer, to my great alarm, and I could perceive, through the trees, a crowd of men armed with long pointed lances, clubs, and stones; they appeared furious, and the idea that they might enter the cave froze me with terror. I had an idea of taking the little native babe, and holding it in my arms, as my best shield; but this time my fears were groundless. The whole troop passed outside the wood, without even looking on the same side as the grotto; they appeared to follow some traces they were looking out for on the ground. I heard their shouts for some time, but they died away, and I recovered from my fears. Still, the dread of meeting them overcame even hunger. I had nothing left in my box but some figs, which I kept for the infant, who was satisfied with them, and I told my daughters we must go to bed without supper. The sleeping infant amused them so much, that they readily consented to give up the figs. He awoke smiling, and they gave him the figs to suck. In the mean time, I prepared to release him from his bondage to make him more comfortable; and I then saw that the outer covering of bark was torn by the teeth of some animal, and even the skin of the child slightly grazed. I ventured to carry him to the brook, into which I plunged him two or three times, which seemed to give him great pleasure.

As I was deciding whether to stay or leave the cave, I heard strange cries in the distance, mixed with the screams of my children, who ran to me for protection, bringing the young savage with them. Luckily, he was only half awake and quickly fell back asleep, sucking on a fig. I gently laid him on the bed of leaves and told my daughters to stay close to him in a dark corner. Then, stepping carefully, I peered out to see what was happening without being noticed. The noise got closer, causing me great alarm, and I noticed, through the trees, a group of men armed with long pointed lances, clubs, and stones. They looked furious, and the thought of them entering the cave paralyzed me with fear. I considered grabbing the little native babe and using him as my best shield, but this time my fears were unfounded. The entire group passed outside the woods, not even glancing in the direction of the grotto; they seemed to be following some tracks on the ground. I heard their shouts for a while, but then they faded away, and I started to calm down. Still, the fear of running into them was strong enough to make me forget my hunger. I had nothing left in my box but some figs, which I saved for the baby. He was satisfied with them, and I told my daughters we had to go to bed without supper. The sleeping infant entertained them so much that they happily agreed to forgo the figs. He woke up smiling, and they gave him the figs to suck on. Meanwhile, I got ready to release him from his bindings to make him more comfortable; I noticed that the outer cover of bark had been torn by some animal's teeth, and even the baby's skin was slightly grazed. I took a chance and brought him to the brook, where I dipped him in two or three times, which seemed to make him really happy.

“I ran back to the cave, which is, you see, not more than twenty yards distant, and found Sophia and Matilda very much delighted at a treasure they had found under the dry leaves in a corner. This was a great quantity of fruits of various kinds, roots of some unknown plant, and a good supply of beautiful honey, on which the little gluttons were already feasting. They came directly to give some on their fingers to their little doll, as they called the babe. This discovery made me very thoughtful. Was it possible that we were in a bear’s den! I had read that they sometimes carried off infants and that they were very fond of fruits and of honey, of which they generally had a hoard. I remarked on the earth, and especially at the entrance, where the rain had made it soft, the impression of large paws which left me no doubt. The animal would certainly return to his den, and we were in the greatest danger; but where could we go? The sky, dark with clouds, threatened a return of the storm; and the troop of savages might still be wandering about the island. I had not courage, just as night set in, to depart with my children; nor could I leave the poor infant, who was now sleeping peacefully, after his honey and figs. His two nurses soon followed his example; but for me there was no rest; the noise of the wind among the trees, and of the rain pattering on the leaves,—the murmur of the brook,—the light bounds of the kangaroo,—all made my heart beat with fear and terror; I fancied it was the bear returning to devour us. I had cut and broken some branches to place before the entrance; but these were but a weak defence against a furious and probably famished animal; and if he even did no other harm to my children, I was sure their terror at the sight of him would kill them. I paced backwards and forwards, from the entrance to the bed, in the darkness, envying the dear sleepers their calm and fearless rest; the dark-skinned baby slept soundly, nestled warmly between my daughters, till day broke at last, without anything terrible occurring. Then my little people awoke, and cried out with hunger. We ate of the fruits and honey brought us by our unknown friend, feeding, also, our little charge, to whom my daughters gave the pet name of Minou, which he still keeps.

“I ran back to the cave, which is not more than twenty yards away, and found Sophia and Matilda really happy about a treasure they had discovered under the dry leaves in a corner. It was a large amount of various fruits, some unknown roots, and a good supply of beautiful honey, which the little gluttons were already enjoying. They came right over to share some on their fingers with their little doll, as they called the baby. This find made me very worried. Could it be possible that we were in a bear’s den? I had read that they sometimes took off infants and were very fond of fruits and honey, which they usually stored up. I noticed on the ground, especially at the entrance where the rain had softened it, the impression of large paws which left me with no doubt. The animal would definitely return to its den, and we were in great danger; but where could we go? The sky, dark with clouds, threatened another storm; and the group of savages might still be roaming around the island. I didn’t have the courage, just as night was falling, to leave with my children; nor could I abandon the poor infant, who was now peacefully sleeping after having his honey and figs. His two nurses soon followed suit; but for me, there was no rest; the sound of the wind through the trees, the rain tapping on the leaves, the murmuring brook, and the light hops of the kangaroo all made my heart race with fear and terror; I imagined it was the bear coming back to eat us. I had cut and broken some branches to block the entrance; but they were a weak defense against a furious and probably hungry animal; and even if he didn’t harm my children, I was sure their fright at the sight of him would be enough to kill them. I paced back and forth, from the entrance to the bed, in the darkness, envying the dear sleepers their calm and fearless rest; the dark-skinned baby slept soundly, nestled warmly between my daughters, until day broke at last, without anything terrible happening. Then my little ones woke up, crying out with hunger. We ate from the fruits and honey brought to us by our unknown friend, also feeding our little charge, to whom my daughters gave the pet name of Minou, which he still keeps.”

“I busied myself with his toilette. There was no need to go to the brook for a bath, for the rain came down incessantly. I then folded Matilda’s apron round him, which pleased her greatly. The rain ceased for a while, and they set off for flowers to amuse him. They were scarcely gone when I heard the cries of the savages again; but this time they seemed rather shouts of joy and triumph; they sung and chaunted a sort of chorus; but were still at such distance that I had time to recall my daughters, and withdrew them out of sight. I took Minou with me as a mediator, and placed myself in an angle of the rock, where I could see without being seen. They passed, as before, beyond the wood, armed, and two of them bore at the end of their lances something very large and dark, which I could not distinguish, but thought might be some wild beast they had destroyed; afterwards, I flattered myself it might be the bear, whose return I so greatly dreaded. Following the train was a woman, naked, with her hair hanging down, uttering loud cries, and tearing her face and breast. No one attempted to soothe her; but occasionally one of the bearers of the black mass pointed it out to her; she then became furious, threw herself on it, and tried to tear it with her teeth and nails. I was quite overcome with horror and pity.

“I kept busy with his grooming. There was no need to go to the stream for a bath since it was raining non-stop. I then wrapped Matilda’s apron around him, which made her really happy. The rain stopped for a bit, and they headed out to gather flowers to entertain him. They had barely left when I heard the cries of the savages again; but this time they sounded more like shouts of joy and triumph; they sang and chanted a kind of chorus. They were still far enough away that I had time to call my daughters back and hidden them from sight. I took Minou with me as a go-between and positioned myself in a spot behind the rocks, where I could see without being seen. They passed by again, beyond the woods, armed, and two of them carried something very large and dark at the ends of their spears, which I couldn't identify but thought might be some wild animal they’d killed; later, I even hoped it might be the bear I had been so afraid of. Following them was a naked woman, her hair down, screaming loudly, and clawing at her face and chest. No one tried to calm her; but occasionally, one of the carriers of the dark object pointed it out to her, and she became enraged, lunged at it, and tried to tear it apart with her teeth and nails. I was completely overwhelmed with horror and pity.

“That woman, my friends, was Canda, whom you have just seen. Canda, usually so mild and gentle, was rendered frantic by the loss of her child,—her first-born,—whom she believed was devoured by the bear. Parabéry, her husband, tried to console her, but was himself in great sorrow. These bears, as I have since learnt, for there were two of them, had come from a mountain, at the foot of which was Parabéry’s hut. They had only this son, and Canda, according to the custom of the country, tying it in a piece of bark, carried it on her back. One morning, after having bathed him in the stream, which has its source near their abode, she placed him on the turf a few moments, while she was employed in some household duties. She soon heard his cries, mingled with a sort of growl; she ran to the spot, and saw a frightful beast holding her child in its mouth, and running off with it. It was then more than twenty yards off; her cries brought her husband; she pointed to the horrible animal, and darted after it, determined to save her child or perish. Her husband only stopped to seize his javelin, and followed her, but did not overtake her till fatigue and the heat of the day made her fall, almost senseless, on the ground. Stopping for a moment to raise and encourage her, he lost sight of the bear, and could not recover the track. All the night,—that dreadful night of rain, when I was weeping and murmuring, thinking myself the most unfortunate of women,—was Canda exposed, without clothes, to that frightful storm, hopelessly seeking her only child, and not even feeling that it did rain. Parabéry, not less afflicted, but more composed, went to relate his misfortune to his neighbours, who, arming themselves, set out, with Parabéry at their head, following the track of the animal over the wet ground. They discovered it next morning with another bear, so busy devouring a swarm of bees and their honey, that the savages were able to draw near them. Parabéry pierced one with his spear, and despatched him with a blow of his club; one of his comrades killed the other, and Parabéry tasted the truly savage joy of vengeance. But the poor mother could not be so comforted. After wandering through the rain all night, she reached the party as they were skinning the bear and dividing the flesh. Parabéry only asked and obtained the skins, to recompense him for the loss of his son. They returned home in triumph, Canda following them with bitter cries, tearing her face with a shark’s tooth. From observation of these circumstances, I concluded that Canda must be the mother of my little protégé. My heart sympathized with her, and I even made some steps forward to restore him; but the sight of the savage crowd, with their tattooed bodies, filled me with such terror, that I retreated involuntarily to the grotto, where my children, alarmed by the noise, were hiding themselves.

"That woman, my friends, was Canda, the one you just saw. Canda, usually so mild and gentle, became frantic when she lost her child—her first-born—believing he was taken by the bear. Parabéry, her husband, tried to console her, but he was also deeply sorrowful. I later learned that there were two bears that had come down from a nearby mountain where Parabéry's hut was located. They only had this one son, and following the local custom, Canda would carry him on her back wrapped in a piece of bark. One morning, after bathing him in the stream near their home, she set him down on the grass for just a moment to tend to some chores. She soon heard his screams mixed with a kind of growl; she ran to the spot and saw a terrifying beast carrying her child in its mouth and running away. The bear was already more than twenty yards away. Her screams brought her husband, and she pointed to the awful creature and ran after it, determined to save her child or die trying. Her husband grabbed his javelin and followed her but didn’t catch up until weariness and the heat of the day caused her to collapse, nearly unconscious on the ground. When he paused to lift her up and encourage her, he lost sight of the bear and couldn’t track it anymore. All night—what a dreadful night of rain—while I was weeping and complaining, thinking I was the most unfortunate woman, Canda was out there, without clothes, exposed to that terrible storm, desperately searching for her only child, hardly even realizing it was raining. Parabéry, while just as distressed but more composed, went to tell his neighbors about his misfortune. They armed themselves and set out, with Parabéry leading them, following the bear’s trail over the wet ground. They found the bears the next morning, one busy devouring a swarm of bees and their honey, allowing the hunters to sneak up on them. Parabéry stabbed one with his spear and finished it off with a blow from his club; one of his friends killed the other, and Parabéry felt the savage joy of vengeance. But the poor mother couldn’t find any comfort. After wandering through the rain all night, she approached the group as they were skinning the bear and distributing the meat. Parabéry only asked for and received the skins as compensation for the loss of his son. They returned home triumphant while Canda followed behind, crying bitterly and scratching her face with a shark’s tooth. From observing these events, I concluded that Canda must be the mother of my little protégé. My heart went out to her, and I even took a few steps forward to return him; but the sight of the savage crowd, with their tattooed bodies, filled me with such fear that I instinctively retreated to the grotto, where my children, frightened by the noise, were hiding."

“‘Why do the people cry out so?’ said Sophia, ‘they frighten me. Don’t let them come here, mamma, or they may carry Minou away,’

“‘Why are people shouting like that?’ said Sophia, ‘they scare me. Don’t let them come here, mom, or they might take Minou away,’”

“‘Certainly,’ said I; ‘and I should have no right to forbid them. I think they are his friends who are distressed at losing him; I wish I could restore him to them.’

“‘Of course,’ I said; ‘and I have no right to stop them. I believe they are his friends who are upset about losing him; I wish I could bring him back to them.’”

“‘Oh, no! mamma,’ said Matilda. ‘Pray don’t give him back; we like him so much, and we will be his little mammas. He will be far happier with us than with those ugly savages, who tied him up like a parcel in the bark, with the moss which pricked him so much; he is much more comfortable in my apron. How he moves his legs as if he wanted to walk; Sophia and I will teach him. Do let us keep him, mimi.’

“‘Oh, no! Mom,’ Matilda said. ‘Please don’t give him back; we love him so much, and we’ll be his little mommies. He’ll be much happier with us than with those ugly savages who tied him up like a package in the bark and made him uncomfortable with that prickly moss; he’s way more comfortable in my apron. Look how he moves his legs like he wants to walk; Sophia and I will teach him. Please let us keep him, Mimi.’”

“Even if I had decided, it was now too late; the savages had passed on to some distance. I, however, explained to Matilda the beauty of the divine precept, ‘Do unto others as you would they should do unto you,’ asking her how she would have liked to be detained by the savages, and what, then, would be the suffering of her own mamma? She was thoughtful for a moment, and then, embracing Minou and me, ‘You are right, mamma mimi; but if she loves her baby, let her come and seek him,’ said the little rebel. In the mean time, Sophia had been out, and returned with some brilliant flowers, fresh after the rain, with which they made garlands to dress up the infant. ‘Oh! if his mamma saw him, she would be glad to let us have him,’ said Matilda. She then explained to her sister who this mamma was, and Sophia shed tears to think of the sorrow of the poor mother. ‘But how do you know, mamma, that she was Minou’s mother?’ demanded she. This question proved that her judgment was forming, and I took the opportunity of teaching her what information one may derive from observation. She understood me very well; and when I told her on what I had founded my idea, she trembled to think he had been brought here by a bear, and asked me if the bear would have eaten him.

“Even if I had made up my mind, it was now too late; the savages had moved on a distance away. However, I told Matilda about the beauty of the divine precept, ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,’ asking her how she would feel if the savages had captured her, and what that would mean for her own mom. She paused for a moment, then hugged Minou and me, saying, ‘You’re right, mama; but if she loves her baby, let her come and find him,’ said the little rebel. Meanwhile, Sophia had gone out and returned with some beautiful flowers, fresh from the rain, with which they made garlands to adorn the baby. ‘Oh! If his mom saw him, she’d be happy to let us keep him,’ said Matilda. She then explained to her sister who this mom was, and Sophia cried at the thought of the poor mother’s sorrow. ‘But how do you know, mommy, that she was Minou’s mother?’ she asked. This question showed that her judgment was developing, and I took the chance to teach her what insights can be gained from observation. She understood me quite well; and when I told her how I had come to my conclusion, she shivered at the thought that he had been brought here by a bear, and asked me if the bear would have eaten him."

“‘I cannot answer for it,’ said I, ‘if it had been pressed by hunger; they tell us, that the bear does no harm to man unless attacked, and is especially fond of children. But, notwithstanding this, I should not like to trust it. At all events, the poor babe would have died, if we had not found him.’

“'I can't say for sure,' I said, 'if it was driven by hunger; they say that bears don’t harm humans unless provoked and that they have a particular fondness for children. Still, I wouldn’t want to take that risk. In any case, the poor baby would have died if we hadn’t found him.'”

“‘Poor babe, he shall not die of hunger now,’ said she. ‘Let us give him some figs; but these are not good; we must go and seek some more.’

“‘Poor baby, he won’t die of hunger now,’ said she. ‘Let’s give him some figs; but these aren’t good; we need to go look for some more.’”

“The rain having ceased, I consented, passing through the grove, where there are no fig-trees, to search farther. My daughters had fed the child with honey and water; it appeared quite reconciled to us, and had ceased to cry. I judged it might be about eight months old. We soon found some trees covered with the violet-coloured figs. Whilst I gathered them, the girls made a pretty bed of moss, adorned with flowers, for their little favourite, and fed him with the fresh fruit, which he enjoyed much; and with their fair hair and rosy faces, and the little negro between them, with his arch, dark countenance, they formed a charming picture, which affected me greatly.”

“The rain had stopped, so I agreed to keep searching through the grove, where there aren’t any fig trees. My daughters had fed the child honey and water; he seemed pretty content and had stopped crying. I estimated he was about eight months old. We quickly found some trees full of violet-colored figs. While I picked them, the girls made a lovely bed of moss, decorated with flowers, for their little favorite and fed him the fresh fruit, which he really liked. With their fair hair and rosy cheeks, and the little boy with his dark, playful expression between them, they made a beautiful scene that moved me deeply.”


CHAPTER LVI.

“We had been more than an hour under the tree, when I heard cries again; but this time I was not alarmed, for I distinguished the voice of the disconsolate mother, and I knew that I could comfort her. Her grief brought her back to the spot where she thought her child had been devoured; she wished, as she afterwards told us, when we could understand her, to search for some remains of him,—his hair, his bones, or even a piece of the bark that bound him; and here he was, full of life and health. She advanced slowly, sobbing, and her eyes turned to the ground. She was so absorbed in her search, that she did not see us when we were but twenty yards from her. Suddenly, Sophia darted like an arrow to her, took her hand, and said, ‘Come, Minou is here.’

“We had been under the tree for over an hour when I heard cries again; but this time I wasn’t scared, because I recognized the voice of the heartbroken mother, and I knew I could comfort her. Her grief led her back to the spot where she thought her child had been eaten; she wanted, as she later told us when we understood her, to look for any remnants of him—his hair, his bones, or even a piece of the bark that held him. And here he was, full of life and health. She moved slowly, sobbing, with her eyes fixed on the ground. She was so caught up in her search that she didn’t notice us even when we were only twenty yards away. Suddenly, Sophia shot forward like an arrow to her, took her hand, and said, ‘Come, Minou is here.’”

“Canda neither knew what she saw nor what she heard; she took my daughter for something supernatural, and made no resistance, but followed her to the fig-tree. Even then she did not recognize the little creature, released from his bonds, half-clothed, covered with flowers, and surrounded by three divinities, for she took us for such, and wished to prostrate herself before us. She was still more convinced of it when I took up her son, and placed him in her arms: she recognized him, and the poor little infant held out his arms to her. I can never express to you the transport of the mother; she screamed, clasped her child till he was half-suffocated, rapidly repeating words which we could not understand, wept, laughed, and was in a delirium of delight that terrified Minou. He began to cry, and held out his arms to Sophia, who, as well as Matilda, was weeping at the sight. Canda looked at them with astonishment; she soothed the child, and put him to her breast, which he rejected at first, but finally seized it, and his mother was happy. I took the opportunity to try and make her comprehend, that the great animal had brought him here; that we had found him, and taken care of him; and I made signs for her to follow me, which she did without hesitation, till we reached the grotto, when, without entering, she fled away with her infant with such rapidity, that it was impossible to overtake her, and was soon out of sight.

Canda had no idea what she saw or heard; she thought my daughter was something otherworldly and didn’t resist, following her to the fig tree. Even then, she didn’t recognize the little creature, freed from his bonds, half-dressed, covered with flowers, and surrounded by three divine figures, which she believed us to be, and she wanted to bow down before us. She was even more convinced when I lifted her son and placed him in her arms: she recognized him, and the poor little infant reached out to her. I can’t fully express the joy of the mother; she screamed, held her child tightly until he was nearly suffocated, rapidly repeating words we couldn’t understand, cried, laughed, and was in a state of delighted delirium that frightened Minou. He started to cry and reached out to Sophia, who, along with Matilda, was also in tears at the sight. Canda looked at them in disbelief; she comforted the child and offered him her breast, which he initially rejected but then accepted, and her motherly happiness was evident. I seized the moment to try to make her understand that the big creature had brought him here; that we had found him and taken care of him; and I gestured for her to follow me, which she did without hesitation, until we reached the grotto, at which point, without entering, she ran off with her infant so quickly that it was impossible to catch her, and she was soon out of sight.

“I had some difficulty in consoling my daughters for the loss of Minou; they thought they should see him no more, and that his mother was very ungrateful to carry him off, without even letting them take leave of him. They were still weeping and complaining, when we saw the objects of our anxiety approaching; but Canda was now accompanied by a man, who was carrying the child. They entered the grotto, and prostrated themselves before us. You know Parabéry; his countenance pleased and tranquillized us. As a relation of the king, he was distinguished by wearing a short tunic of leaves; his body was tattooed and stained with various colours; but not his face, which expressed kindness and gratitude, united with great intelligence. He comprehended most of my signs. I did not succeed so well in understanding him; but saw he meant kindly. In the mean time my daughters had a more intelligible conversation with Canda and Minou; they half-devoured the latter with caresses, fed him with figs and honey, and amused him so much, that he would scarcely leave them. Canda was not jealous of this preference, but seemed delighted with it; she, in her turn, caressed my daughters, admired their glossy hair and fair skin, and pointed them out to her husband; she repeated Minou after them, but always added another Minou, and appeared to think this name beautiful. After some words with Parabéry, she placed Minou-Minou in Sophia’s arms, and they both departed, making signs that they would return; but we did not see them for some time after. Sophia and Matilda had their full enjoyment of their favourite; they wished to teach him to walk and to speak, and they assured me he was making great progress. They were beginning to hope his parents had left him entirely, when they came in sight, Parabéry bending under the weight of two bear-skins, and a beautiful piece of matting to close the entrance to my grotto; Canda carried a basket on her head filled with fine fruit; the cocoa, the bread-fruit (which they call rima), pine-apples, figs, and, finally, a piece of bear’s flesh, roasted at the fire, which I did not like; but I enjoyed the fruits and the milk of the cocoa-nut, of which Minou-Minou had a good share. They spread the bear-skins in the midst of the grotto; Parabéry, Canda, and the infant, between them, took possession of one without ceremony, and motioned to us to make our bed of the other. But the bears having only been killed the evening before, these skins had an intolerable smell. I made them comprehend this, and Parabéry immediately carried them off and placed them in the brook, secured by stones. He brought us in exchange a heap of moss and leaves, on which we slept very well.

“I had some trouble comforting my daughters over Minou’s loss; they thought they’d never see him again and felt his mother was really ungrateful for taking him away without even letting them say goodbye. They were still crying and complaining when we saw the ones we were worried about coming closer; but Canda was now with a man who was carrying the child. They entered the grotto and bowed down before us. You know Parabéry; his face reassured us. As a royal relative, he stood out in a short tunic made of leaves; his body was tattooed and painted in various colors, but not his face, which showed kindness and gratitude along with great intelligence. He understood most of my gestures, but I struggled to understand him; however, it was clear he meant well. Meanwhile, my daughters were having a more straightforward conversation with Canda and Minou; they smothered the latter with affection, fed him figs and honey, and played with him so much that he hardly wanted to leave them. Canda didn’t seem jealous of this attention and looked pleased; she, in turn, doted on my daughters, admired their shiny hair and fair skin, and pointed them out to her husband; she repeated Minou after them but always added another Minou and seemed to think this name was beautiful. After chatting with Parabéry, she put Minou-Minou in Sophia’s arms, and they both left, signaling that they’d be back; but we didn’t see them for a while afterward. Sophia and Matilda were fully enjoying their favorite; they wanted to teach him to walk and talk, and they assured me he was making great progress. They were starting to think his parents had completely left him when they appeared on the horizon, with Parabéry struggling under the weight of two bear skins and a beautiful piece of matting to cover the entrance of my grotto; Canda carried a basket on her head filled with fresh fruit: cocoa, breadfruit (which they call rima), pineapples, figs, and finally, a piece of bear meat roasted over the fire, which I wasn’t fond of; but I enjoyed the fruits and the coconut milk, which Minou-Minou had a good share of. They laid the bear skins in the middle of the grotto; Parabéry, Canda, and the baby casually took one for themselves and motioned for us to use the other. But since the bears had only been killed the night before, the skins had a terrible smell. I signaled this to them, and Parabéry quickly carried them away and placed them in the brook, weighed down with stones. He brought us back a pile of moss and leaves, which made for a very comfortable bed.”

“From this moment we became one family. Canda remained with us, and repaid to my daughters all the care and affection they bestowed on Minou-Minou. There never was a child had more indulgence; but he deserved it, for his quickness and docility. At the end of a few months he began to lisp a few words of German, as well as his mother, of whom I was the teacher, and who made rapid progress. Parabéry was very little with us, but he undertook to be our purveyor, and furnished us abundantly with everything necessary for our subsistence. Canda taught my daughter to make beautiful baskets,—some, of a flat form, served for our plates and dishes. Parabéry made us knives from sharp stones. My daughters, in return, taught Canda to sew. At the time of our shipwreck we had, each of us, in her pocket, a morocco housewife, with a store of needles and thread. By means of these we had mended our linen, and we now made dresses of palm-leaves. The bear-skins, washed in the stream, and thoroughly dried in the burning sun, have been very useful to us in the cold and rainy season. Now that we had guides, we made, in the fine season, excursions to different parts of the island. Minou-Minou soon learned to walk, and being strong, like all these islanders, would always accompany us. We went one day to the sea-shore. I shuddered at the sight, and Canda, who knew that my husband and child had perished in the sea, wept with me. We now spoke each other’s language well enough to converse. She told me that a black friend (Emily bowed to Mr. Willis) had arrived in a neighbouring island, to announce to them that there was a Being, almighty and all-merciful, who lived in Heaven, and heard all they said. Her comprehension of this truth was very confused, and I endeavoured to make it more clear and positive.

“From this moment on, we became one family. Canda stayed with us and returned all the care and affection my daughters gave to Minou-Minou. No child has ever received more indulgence, but he deserved it for his quickness and willingness to learn. After a few months, he started to babble a few words of German, just like his mother, whom I taught, and she was making great progress. Parabéry didn’t spend much time with us, but he took on the role of our provider, bringing us everything we needed to survive. Canda showed my daughter how to make beautiful baskets—some flat ones were used as plates and dishes. Parabéry created knives from sharp stones for us. In return, my daughters taught Canda how to sew. At the time of our shipwreck, each of us had a small morocco sewing kit in our pockets filled with needles and thread. We used these to mend our clothes, and now we were making dresses out of palm leaves. The bear skins, washed in the stream and dried thoroughly in the blazing sun, had been very useful during the cold and rainy season. Now that we had guides, we made excursions around the island during the nice weather. Minou-Minou quickly learned to walk and, being strong like all the islanders, always accompanied us. One day we went to the seashore. I shuddered at the sight, and Canda, knowing that my husband and child had drowned, cried with me. We could now communicate well enough in each other’s languages. She told me that a black friend (Emily bowed to Mr. Willis) had arrived on a nearby island to tell them about a Being, all-powerful and all-merciful, who lived in Heaven and heard everything they said. Her understanding of this truth was quite muddled, so I tried to clarify it for her.”

“‘I see very well,’ said she, ‘that you know him. Is it to Him that you speak every morning and evening, kneeling as we do before our king Bara-ourou?’

“‘I know very well,’ she said, ‘that you know him. Is it to Him that you talk every morning and evening, kneeling like we do before our king Bara-ourou?’”

“‘Yes, Canda,’ said I, ‘it is before Him who is the King of Kings, who gave us our life, who preserves it, and bestows on us all good, and who promises us still more when this life is past.’

“‘Yes, Canda,’ I said, ‘it is before Him who is the King of Kings, who gave us our lives, who keeps us safe, and gives us all good things, and who promises us even more when this life is over.’”

“‘Was it he who charged you to take care of Minou-Minou, and to restore him to me?’ asked she.

“‘Did he ask you to look after Minou-Minou and bring him back to me?’ she asked.”

“‘Yes, Canda; all that you or I do that is good, is put into our hearts by Him.’

“‘Yes, Canda; everything good that you or I do is placed in our hearts by Him.’”

“I thus tried to prepare the simple mind of Canda for the great truths that Mr. Willis was to teach her.”

“I tried to get Canda ready to understand the important lessons that Mr. Willis was going to teach her.”

“You left me little to do,” said Mr. Willis. “I found Parabéry and Canda prepared to believe, with sincere faith, the holy religion I came to teach—the God of the white people was the only one they adored. I knew Parabéry, he had come to hunt seals in the island where I was established, and I was struck by his appearance. What was my astonishment to find, that when I spoke to him of the one true God, he was no stranger to the subject. He had even some ideas of a Saviour, and of future rewards and punishments.

“You didn't leave me much to do,” said Mr. Willis. “I found Parabéry and Canda ready to believe, with genuine faith, in the true religion I came to share—the God of the white people was the only one they worshipped. I knew Parabéry; he had come to hunt seals on the island where I was living, and I was taken aback by his look. What surprised me even more was when I talked to him about the one true God, he was already familiar with the topic. He even had some thoughts about a Savior and about future rewards and punishments.”

“‘It was the white lady,’ said he, ‘who taught me this; she teaches Canda and Minou-minou, whose life she saved, and whom she is bringing up to be good like herself.’

“It was the white lady,” he said, “who taught me this; she teaches Canda and Minou-minou, whose life she saved, and she is raising them to be good like herself.”

“I had a great desire,” continued Mr. Willis, “to become acquainted with my powerful assistant in the great work of my mission. I told Parabéry this, who offered to bring me here in his canoe; I came and found, in a miserable cave, or rather in a bear’s den, all the virtues of mature age united to the charms of youth; a resigned and pious mother, bringing up her children, as women should be brought up, in simplicity, forbearance, and love of industry; teaching them, as the best knowledge, to love God with all their heart, and their neighbour as themselves. Under the inspection of their mother, they were educating the son of Parabéry. This child, then four years and a half old, spoke German well, and knew his alphabet, which Madame Hirtel traced on the floor of the grotto; in this way she taught her daughters to read; they taught Minou-minou, who, in his turn, teaches his parents. Parabéry often brings his friends to the grotto, and Madame Hirtel, having acquired the language, casts into their hearts the good seed, which I venture to hope will not be unfruitful.

“I really wanted,” Mr. Willis continued, “to get to know my powerful assistant in the important work of my mission. I told Parabéry this, and he offered to bring me here in his canoe; I arrived and found, in a shabby cave—or more like a bear’s den—all the virtues of adulthood combined with the charms of youth: a patient and devout mother raising her children, as women should, in simplicity, patience, and a love for hard work; teaching them, above all, to love God wholeheartedly and to love their neighbor as themselves. Under their mother's guidance, they were educating Parabéry's son. This child, who was four and a half years old, spoke German well and knew his alphabet, which Madame Hirtel drew on the floor of the grotto; in this way, she taught her daughters to read; they, in turn, taught Minou-minou, who then teaches his parents. Parabéry often brings his friends to the grotto, and Madame Hirtel, having learned the language, plants good seeds in their hearts, which I sincerely hope will bear fruit.”

“Finding these people in such a good state, and wishing to enjoy the society of a family, like myself, banished to a remote region, I decided to take up my abode in this island.

“Finding these people in such a good state, and wanting to enjoy the company of a family, like myself, exiled to a distant place, I decided to settle in this island.

“Parabéry soon built me a hut in the neighbourhood of the grotto; Madame Hirtel compelled me to take one of her bear-skins. I have by degrees formed my establishment, dividing with my worthy neighbour the few useful articles I brought from Europe, and we live a tranquil and happy life.

“Parabéry soon built me a hut near the grotto; Madame Hirtel insisted I take one of her bear skins. I've gradually set up my place, sharing the few useful items I brought from Europe with my good neighbor, and we live a peaceful and happy life.

“And now comes the time that brought about our meeting. Some of our islanders, in a fishing expedition, were driven by the wind on your island. At the entrance of a large bay, they found a small canoe of bark, carefully moored to a tree. Either their innate propensity for theft, or the notion that it had no owner, prevailed over them, and they brought it away. I was informed of this, and was curious to see it; I recognized at once that it was made by Europeans: the careful finish, the neat form, the oars, rudder, mast, and triangular sail, all showed that it had not been made by savages. The seats of the rowers were made of planks, and were painted, and what further convinced me was, that I found in it a capital gun, loaded, and a horn of powder in a hole under one of the seats. I then made particular inquiries about the island from whence they had brought the canoe; and all their answers confirmed my idea that it must be inhabited by a European, from whom they had perhaps taken his only means of leaving it.

“And now comes the time that brought about our meeting. Some of our islanders, during a fishing trip, were blown by the wind onto your island. At the entrance of a large bay, they found a small bark canoe, carefully tied to a tree. Either their natural tendency for theft or the belief that it had no owner took over, and they took it. I was informed about this and was curious to see it; I immediately recognized that it was made by Europeans: the careful craftsmanship, the neat shape, the oars, rudder, mast, and triangular sail all showed that it wasn't made by savages. The rowing seats were made of planks and were painted, and what convinced me further was that I found a top-quality gun, loaded, and a powder horn in a compartment under one of the seats. I then asked detailed questions about the island from which they had taken the canoe, and all their answers confirmed my belief that it must be inhabited by a European, from whom they may have taken the only way to leave it.

“Restless about this fancy, I tried to persuade them to return and discover if the island was inhabited. I could not prevail on them to restore the canoe; but, seeing me much agitated, they resolved secretly to procure me a great pleasure as they thought, by returning to the island and bringing away any one they could meet with, whether he would or not. Parabéry, always the leader in perilous enterprises, and who was so attached to me, would not be left out in one which was to produce me such pleasure. They set out, and you know the result of their expedition. I leave it to your wife to tell you how she was brought away, and pass on to the time of their arrival. My people brought them to me in triumph, and were vexed that they had only found one woman and a child, whom I might give to the white lady. This I did promptly. Your wife was ill and distressed, and I carried her immediately to the grotto. There she found a companion who welcomed her with joy; Francis replaced her own lost Alfred, and the two good mothers were soon intimate friends. But, notwithstanding this solace, your Elizabeth was inconsolable at the separation from her husband and children, and terrified at the danger to which you would expose yourself in searching for her. We were even afraid she would lose her reason, when the king came to take away Francis. He had seen him on his arrival, and was much taken with his appearance; he came again to see him, and resolved to adopt him as his son. You know what passed on this subject; and now you are once more united to all those who are dear to you.

“Worried about this idea, I tried to convince them to go back and see if the island was inhabited. I couldn't get them to bring the canoe back, but seeing me really worked up, they decided secretly to give me a big surprise by returning to the island and bringing back anyone they could find, whether they wanted to come or not. Parabéry, who always led risky missions and was very attached to me, refused to sit this one out, especially since it was meant to make me happy. They went out, and you already know what happened on their trip. I'll let your wife tell you how she was rescued, and skip ahead to the time they returned. My people brought them to me in triumph and were disappointed that they had only found one woman and a child, whom I could give to the lady. I did that right away. Your wife was sick and upset, so I took her to the grotto immediately. There, she found a friend who welcomed her with joy; Francis took the place of her lost Alfred, and the two mothers quickly became close friends. But despite this comfort, your Elizabeth was heartbroken over being separated from her husband and children, and she was terrified of the danger you would face in looking for her. We were even worried she might lose her mind when the king came to take Francis away. He had noticed him when he first arrived and was really taken with him; he came back to see him and decided to adopt him as his son. You know what happened regarding that, and now you are reunited with all those who are dear to you.”

“Bless God, brother, who knows how to produce good from what we think evil, and acknowledge the wisdom of his ways. You must return all together to your island; I am too much interested in the happiness of Emily to wish to detain her; and if God permits me, when my missions are completed, I will come to end my days with you, and to bless your rising colony.”

“Thank God, brother, who knows how to bring good from what we see as bad, and acknowledges the wisdom of His ways. You all need to go back to your island; I care too much about Emily's happiness to want to keep her here. And if God allows it, once my missions are done, I will come to spend my days with you and to bless your growing colony.”

I suppress all our reflections on this interesting history, and our gratitude for the termination of our trials, and hasten to the recital, which, at my particular entreaty, my wife proceeded to give us.

I hold back all our thoughts on this intriguing history and our thanks for the end of our hardships, and quickly move on to the story that, at my specific request, my wife began to share with us.


CHAPTER LVII.

“My story,” she began, “will not be long. I might make it in two words,—you have lost me, and you have found me. I have every reason to thank Heaven for a circumstance, which has proved to me how dear I am to you, and has given me the happiness of gaining a friend and two dear daughters. Can one complain of an event which has produced such consequences, even though it was attended with some violence? But I ought to do the savages justice,—this violence was as gentle as it could be. I need only tell you Parabéry was there, to convince you I was well treated, and it was solely the sorrow of being parted from you that affected my health. I shall be well now, and as soon as Jack can walk, I shall be ready to embark for our happy island. I will now tell you how I was brought away.

“My story,” she began, “won’t be long. I could sum it up in two words: you lost me, and you found me. I have every reason to thank Heaven for this situation, which has shown me how much I mean to you and has given me the joy of gaining a friend and two wonderful daughters. Can anyone complain about an event that has led to such outcomes, even though it came with some roughness? But I should give credit to the natives—this roughness was as gentle as it could be. All I need to say is that Parabéry was there to show you I was treated well, and it was only the sadness of being separated from you that affected my health. I’ll be fine now, and as soon as Jack can walk, I’ll be ready to set sail for our happy island. Now let me tell you how I was taken away.”

“When you and our three sons left, to make the tour of the island, I was very comfortable; you had told me you might return late, or probably not till next day, and when the evening passed away without seeing you, I was not uneasy. Francis was constantly with me; we went together to water the garden, and rested in the Grotto Ernestine; then I returned to the house, took my wheel, and placed myself in my favourite colonnade, where I should be the first to see your return. Francis, seeing me at work, asked if he might go as far as the bridge to meet you; to which I readily consented. He set out, and I was sitting, thinking of the pleasure I should have in seeing you again, and hearing you relate your voyage, when I saw Francis running, crying out, ‘Mamma! mamma! there is a canoe on the sea; I know it is ours; it is full of men, perhaps savages.’

“When you and our three sons left to tour the island, I felt at ease. You mentioned that you might come back late or not until the next day, so when the evening rolled around without seeing you, I wasn't worried. Francis stayed by my side; we went to water the garden together and rested in the Ernestine Grotto. Then I returned to the house, grabbed my wheel, and settled in my favorite colonnade, where I’d be the first to spot your return. Seeing me working, Francis asked if he could go as far as the bridge to meet you, and I gladly agreed. He set off, and as I sat there, thinking about how happy I’d be to see you again and hear all about your trip, I saw Francis running toward me, shouting, ‘Mom! Mom! There’s a canoe on the sea; I know it’s ours; it’s full of men, maybe savages.’”

“‘Silly little fellow!’ said I, ‘it is your father and brothers; if they are in the canoe, there can be no doubt of it. Your father told me he would bring it, and they would return by water; I had forgotten this when I let you go. Now you can go and meet them on the shore; give me your arm, and I will go too,’ and we set off very joyfully to meet our captors. I soon, alas! saw my error; it was, indeed, our canoe, but, instead of my dear ones, there were in it six half-naked savages, with terrible countenances, who landed and surrounded us. My blood froze with fright, and if I had wished to flee, I was unable. I fell on the shore, nearly insensible; still, I heard the cries of my dear Francis, who clung to me, and held me with all his strength; at last my senses quite failed me, and I only recovered to find myself lying at the bottom of the canoe. My son, weeping over me, was trying to recover me, assisted by one of the savages, of less repulsive appearance than his companions, and who seemed the chief; this was Parabéry. He made me swallow a few drops of a detestable fermented liquor, which, however, restored me. I felt, as I recovered, the extent of my disaster, and your grief, my dears, when you should find me missing. I should have been wholly disconsolate, but that Francis was left to me, and he was continually praying me to live for his sake. I received some comfort from a vague notion that as this was our canoe, the savages had already carried you off, and were taking us to you.

“‘Silly little guy!’ I said, ‘it’s your dad and brothers; if they’re in the canoe, there’s no doubt about it. Your dad told me he would bring it, and they would come back by water; I forgot this when I let you go. Now you can go meet them on the shore; give me your arm, and I’ll go too,’ and we set off happily to meet our captors. I soon realized how wrong I was; it was indeed our canoe, but instead of my loved ones, there were six half-naked savages with terrifying faces who landed and surrounded us. I froze in fear, and even if I wanted to run, I couldn’t. I collapsed on the shore, nearly unconscious; still, I heard the cries of my dear Francis, who clung to me with all his strength; eventually, I completely lost my senses and woke up to find myself lying at the bottom of the canoe. My son, crying over me, was trying to help me recover, assisted by one of the savages, who looked less frightening than his companions and seemed to be the leader; this was Parabéry. He made me drink a few drops of a horrible fermented liquor, which, however, brought me back. As I regained my senses, I felt the weight of my disaster and your grief, my dears, when you realized I was missing. I would have been completely heartbroken if it weren’t for Francis, who was there and constantly urged me to live for his sake. I found some consolation in the vague idea that since this was our canoe, the savages must have already taken you and were bringing us to you.”

“I was confirmed in this hope, when I saw that the savages, instead of making to sea, continued to coast the island, till they came to the Great Bay. I had then no doubt but that we should meet with you; but this hope was soon destroyed. Two or three more of the savages were waiting there on the shore; they spoke to their friends in the canoe; and I understood from their gestures, that they were saying they could not find anybody there. I have since learnt from Canda, that part of them landed at the Great Bay, with instructions to search that side of the island for inhabitants, whilst the rest proceeded with the canoe to examine the other side, and had succeeded but too well. The night came on, and they were anxious to return, which, doubtless, prevented them pillaging our house. I believe, moreover, that none of them could have reached Tent House, defended by our strong palisade, and hidden by the rocks amidst which it is built; and the other party, finding us on the shore, would not penetrate further.

“I was reassured in this hope when I saw that the savages, instead of going out to sea, continued to hug the coastline until they reached the Great Bay. At that point, I had no doubt we would encounter you, but that hope was quickly dashed. Two or three more of the savages were waiting on the shore; they communicated with their friends in the canoe, and I could tell from their gestures that they were saying they couldn’t find anyone there. I later learned from Canda that some of them landed at the Great Bay with instructions to search that side of the island for inhabitants, while the others took the canoe to check the other side, and they were all too successful. Night fell, and they were eager to return, which likely kept them from looting our house. I also believe that none of them could have reached Tent House, which was protected by our strong palisade and hidden among the rocks it was built into; and the other group, seeing us on the shore, wouldn’t venture any further.”


“Six savages with terrible countenances, landed and surrounded us.”


“Six fierce-looking men landed and surrounded us.”

“When all had entered the canoe, they pushed off, by the light of the stars, into the open sea. I think I must have sunk under my sorrow, but for Francis, and, I must confess it, my dear dog Flora, who had never left me. Francis told me, that she had tried to defend me, and flew at the savages; but one of them took my apron, tore it, and tied it over her mouth like a muzzle, bound her legs, and then threw her into the canoe, where the poor creature lay at my feet, moaning piteously. She arrived with us in this island, but I have not seen her since; I have often inquired of Parabéry, but he could not tell me what had become of her.”

“When everyone got into the canoe, they pushed off, guided by the light of the stars, into the open sea. I think I would have completely broken down in my grief if it weren't for Francis and, I must admit, my beloved dog Flora, who never left my side. Francis told me that she tried to protect me and lunged at the attackers; but one of them grabbed my apron, ripped it, and tied it over her mouth like a muzzle, bound her legs, and then tossed her into the canoe, where the poor thing lay at my feet, whimpering sadly. She came with us to this island, but I haven't seen her since; I've often asked Parabéry, but he couldn't tell me what happened to her.”

“But I know,” said Fritz, “and have seen her. We brought Turk with us, and the savages had carried Flora to that desert part of the island, from whence Jack was carried off; so the two dogs met. When I had the misfortune to wound Jack, I quite forgot them; they were rambling off, in chase of kangaroos; we left them, and no doubt they are there still. But we must not abandon the poor beasts; if my father will permit me, I will go and seek them in Parabéry’s canoe.”

“But I know,” said Fritz, “and I’ve seen her. We brought Turk with us, and the natives had taken Flora to that remote part of the island where Jack was taken; so the two dogs ran into each other. When I unfortunately wounded Jack, I completely forgot about them; they were wandering off after kangaroos; we left them, and I have no doubt they’re still there. But we can’t leave those poor animals behind; if my father lets me, I’ll go and find them in Parabéry’s canoe.”

As we were obliged to wait a few days for Jack’s recovery, I consented, on condition that Parabéry accompanied them, and the next day was fixed for the expedition. Ernest begged to be of the party, that he might see the beautiful trees and flowers they had described. I then requested the narration might be continued, which had been interrupted by this episode of the two dogs. Francis resumed it where his mother had left off.

As we had to wait a few days for Jack to recover, I agreed, on the condition that Parabéry went with them, and the next day was set for the trip. Ernest asked to join the group so he could see the beautiful trees and flowers they had talked about. I then asked if the story could continue, which had been interrupted by the incident with the two dogs. Francis picked it up from where his mother had paused.

“We had a favourable passage—the sea was calm, and the boat went so smoothly, that both mamma and I went to sleep. You must have come a much longer round than necessary, papa, as your voyage lasted three days, and we arrived here the day after our departure. Mamma was then awake, and wept constantly, believing she should never more see you or my brothers. Parabéry seemed very sorry for her, and tried to console her; at last, he addressed to her two or three words of German, pointing to heaven. His words were very plain—Almighty God, good; and then black friend, and white lady; adding the words Canda, bear, and Minou-minou. We did not understand what he meant; but he seemed so pleased at speaking these words, that we could not but be pleased too; and to hear him name God in German gave us confidence, though we could, not comprehend where or how he had learnt the words. ‘Perhaps,’ said mamma, ‘he has seen your papa and brothers,’ I thought so too; still, it appeared strange that, in so short a time, he could acquire and remember these words. However it might be, mamma was delighted to have him near her, and taught him to pronounce the words father, mother, and son, which did not seem strange to him, and he soon knew them. She pointed to me and to herself, as she pronounced the words, and he readily comprehended them, and said to us, with bursts of laughter, showing his large ivory teeth, Canda, mother; Minou-minou, son; Parabéry, father; white lady, mother. Mamma thought he referred to her, but it was to Madame Emily. He tried to pronounce this name and two others, but could not succeed; at last, he said, girls, girls, and almost convinced us he must know some Europeans, which was a great comfort to us.

“We had a smooth journey—the sea was calm, and the boat sailed so easily that both Mom and I fell asleep. You must have taken a much longer route than necessary, Dad, since your trip lasted three days, while we got here the day after we left. Mom was awake then and cried constantly, thinking she would never see you or my brothers again. Parabéry looked very sympathetic and tried to comfort her; eventually, he said a few words in German, pointing to the sky. His words were very clear—Almighty God, good; then black friend, and white lady; he added Canda, bear, and Minou-minou. We didn’t understand what he meant, but he seemed so happy to say those words that we couldn’t help but feel happy too; hearing him mention God in German gave us some reassurance, even though we couldn’t figure out where or how he learned those words. ‘Maybe,’ Mom said, ‘he has seen your dad and brothers,’ I thought the same; still, it seemed odd that he could learn and remember these words in such a short time. Whatever the case, Mom was thrilled to have him close and taught him to say father, mother, and son, which didn’t sound odd to him, and he quickly learned them. She pointed to me and to herself as she said the words, and he easily understood, laughing and showing his big ivory teeth, Canda, mother; Minou-minou, son; Parabéry, father; white lady, mother. Mom thought he was talking about her, but he meant Madame Emily. He tried to say her name and two others but couldn’t manage; finally, he said, girls, girls, and almost convinced us that he must know some Europeans, which was a big comfort.

“When I saw mamma more composed, I took out my flageolet to amuse her, and played the air to Ernest’s verses. This made her weep again very much, and she begged me to desist; the savages, however, wished me to continue, and I did not know whom to obey. I changed the air, playing the merriest I knew. They were in ecstasies; they took me in their arms one after the other, saying, Bara-ourou, Bara-ourou. I repeated the word after them, and they were still more delighted. But mamma was so uneasy to see me in their arms, that I broke from them, and returned to her.

“When I saw Mom more relaxed, I took out my flute to cheer her up and played the tune to Ernest’s verses. This made her cry again really hard, and she asked me to stop; however, the kids wanted me to keep playing, and I didn’t know whom to listen to. I switched to the happiest tune I knew. They were thrilled; one by one, they picked me up in their arms, saying, Bara-ourou, Bara-ourou. I repeated the word after them, and they were even more excited. But Mom was so anxious to see me in their arms that I broke away from them and went back to her.”

“At last we landed. They carried mamma, who was too weak to walk. About a hundred yards from the shore, we saw a large building of wood and reeds, before which there was a crowd of savages. One who was very tall came to receive us. He was dressed in a short tunic, much ornamented, and wore a necklace of pierced shells. He was a little disfigured by a white bone passed through his nostrils. But you saw him, papa, when he wanted to adopt me; it was Bara-ourou, the king of the island. I was presented to him, and he was pleased with me, touched the end of my nose with his, and admired my hair very much. My conductors ordered me to play on the flageolet. I played some lively German airs, which made them dance and leap, till the king fell down with fatigue, and made a sign for me to desist. He then spoke for some time to the savages, who stood in a circle round him. He looked at mamma, who was seated in a corner, near her protector Parabéry. He called the latter, who obliged mamma to rise, and presented her to the king. Bara-ourou looked only at the red and yellow India handkerchief which she wore on her head; he took it off, very unceremoniously, and put it on his own head, saying, miti, which means beautiful. He then made us re-embark in the canoe with him, amusing himself with me and my flageolet, which he attempted to play by blowing it through his nose, but did not succeed. After turning round a point which seemed to divide the island into two, we landed on a sandy beach. Parabéry and another savage proceeded into the interior, carrying my mother, and we followed. We arrived at a hut similar to the king’s, but not so large. There we were received by Mr. Willis, whom we judged to be the black friend, and from that time we had no more fears. He took us under his protection, first speaking to the king and to Parabéry in their own language. He then addressed mamma in German, mixed with a few English words, which we understood very well. He knew nothing of you and my brothers; but, from what mamma told him, he promised to have you sought for, and brought as soon as possible to the island. In the mean time, he offered to lead us to a friend who would take care of us, and nurse poor mamma, who looked very ill. She was obliged to be carried to the grotto; but, after that, her cares were over, and her pleasure without alloy; for the black friend had promised to seek you. The white lady received us like old friends, and Sophia and Matilda took me at first for their own brother, and still love me as if I was. We only wished for you all. Madame Mimi made mamma lie down on the bear-skin, and prepared her a pleasant beverage from the milk of the cocoa-nut. Sophia and Matilda took me to gather strawberries, and figs, and beautiful flowers; and we caught fish in the brook, between two osier hurdles. We amused ourselves very well with Minou-minou, while Canda and Madame Emily amused mamma.

“At last we landed. They carried Mom, who was too weak to walk. About a hundred yards from the shore, we saw a large building made of wood and reeds, in front of which there was a crowd of natives. A very tall man came to greet us. He was dressed in a short, heavily decorated tunic, and wore a necklace of pierced shells. He had a slight deformity from a white bone going through his nostrils. But you saw him, Dad, when he wanted to adopt me; it was Bara-ourou, the king of the island. I was introduced to him, and he liked me, touching the tip of my nose with his, and complimenting my hair. My guides told me to play the flageolet. I played some lively German tunes, which made them dance and jump, until the king collapsed from exhaustion and signaled for me to stop. He then spoke for a while to the natives, who stood in a circle around him. He looked at Mom, who was sitting in a corner near her protector Parabéry. He called him over, who made Mom get up and presented her to the king. Bara-ourou only focused on the red and yellow India handkerchief she wore on her head; he took it off quite rudely and placed it on his own head, saying, miti, meaning beautiful. He then made us get back in the canoe with him, amusing himself with me and my flageolet, which he tried to play by blowing it through his nose but failed. After rounding a point that seemed to split the island in two, we landed on a sandy beach. Parabéry and another native headed into the interior carrying my mother, and we followed. We arrived at a hut like the king’s, but smaller. There we were welcomed by Mr. Willis, whom we suspected was the black friend, and from that moment on, we were no longer afraid. He took us under his protection, first speaking to the king and Parabéry in their language. Then he spoke to Mom in German, mixing in a few English words that we understood well. He didn’t know anything about you and my brothers; however, based on what Mom told him, he promised to have you searched for and brought to the island as soon as possible. In the meantime, he offered to take us to a friend who would take care of us and look after poor Mom, who appeared very ill. She had to be carried to the grotto, but after that, her worries were over, and her joy was complete because the black friend promised to find you. The white lady welcomed us like old friends, and Sophia and Matilda initially thought I was their own brother and still treat me as if I were. We only wished for all of you. Madame Mimi made Mom lie down on the bear-skin and prepared her a soothing drink from coconut milk. Sophia and Matilda took me to pick strawberries, figs, and beautiful flowers; and we caught fish in the stream using two willow hurdles. We had a great time with Minou-minou, while Canda and Madame Emily kept Mom entertained.”

“The king came the next day to see his little favourite; he wished me to go with him to another part of the island, where he often went to hunt; but I would not leave mamma and my new friends. I was wrong, papa; for you were there, and my brothers; it was there Jack was wounded and brought away. I might have prevented all that, and you would then have returned to us. How sorry I have been for my obstinacy! It was I, more than Fritz, who was the cause of his being wounded.

“The king came the next day to see his little favorite; he wanted me to go with him to another part of the island where he often went hunting, but I didn’t want to leave Mom and my new friends. I was wrong, Dad; because you were there, and my brothers; that’s where Jack got hurt and was taken away. I could have prevented all that, and then you would have come back to us. I’ve felt so sorry for my stubbornness! It was me, more than Fritz, who caused his injury.”

“Bara-ourou returned in the evening to the grotto; and think, papa, of our surprise, our delight, and our distress, when he brought us poor Jack, wounded and in great pain, but still all joy at finding us again! The king told Mr. Willis he was sure Jack was my brother, and he made us a present of him, adding, that he gave him in exchange for mamma’s handkerchief. Mamma thanked him earnestly, and placed Jack beside her. From him she learned all you had done to discover us. He informed Mr. Willis where he had left you, and he promised to seek and bring you to us. He then examined the wound, which Jack wished him to think he had himself caused with Fritz’s gun; but this was not probable, as the ball had entered behind, and lodged in the shoulder. Mr. Willis extracted it with some difficulty, and poor Jack suffered a good deal; but all is now going on well. What a large party we shall be, papa, when we are all settled in our island; Sophia and Matilda, Minou-Minou, Canda, Parabéry, you, papa, and two mammas, and Mr. Willis!”

“Bara-ourou returned in the evening to the grotto, and just imagine, Dad, our surprise, our joy, and our distress when he brought us poor Jack, wounded and in a lot of pain, but still so happy to be reunited with us! The king told Mr. Willis he was sure Jack was my brother, and he gave him to us as a gift, saying he did so in exchange for Mom’s handkerchief. Mom thanked him sincerely and placed Jack next to her. From him, she learned everything you had done to find us. He told Mr. Willis where he had left you, and he promised to look for you and bring you back to us. He then checked the wound, which Jack wanted him to believe he had caused himself with Fritz’s gun; but that didn’t seem likely since the bullet had entered from behind and lodged in the shoulder. Mr. Willis managed to remove it with some difficulty, and poor Jack went through quite a bit of pain, but everything is going well now. Just think about how big our group will be, Dad, once we’re all settled on our island: Sophia and Matilda, Minou-Minou, Canda, Parabéry, you, Dad, and two moms, plus Mr. Willis!”

My wife smiled as the little orator concluded. Mr. Willis then dressed Jack’s wound, and thought he might be removed in five or six days.

My wife smiled as the little speaker finished. Mr. Willis then took care of Jack’s wound and thought he could be discharged in five or six days.

“Now, my dear Jack,” said I, “it is your turn to relate your history. Your brother left off where you were entertaining the savages with your buffooneries; and certainly they were never better introduced. But how did they suddenly think of carrying you away?”

“Now, my dear Jack,” I said, “it’s your turn to share your story. Your brother stopped when you were amusing the savages with your antics, and they were definitely well-timed. But how did they suddenly decide to take you away?”

“Parabéry told me,” said Jack, “that they were struck with my resemblance to Francis as soon as I took my flageolet. After I had played a minute or two, the savage who wore mamma’s handkerchief, whom I now know to be the king, interrupted me by crying out and clapping his hands. He spoke earnestly to the others, pointing to my face, and to my flageolet, which he had taken; he looked also at my jacket of blue cotton, which one of them had tied round his shoulders like a mantle; and doubtless he then gave orders for me to be carried to the canoe. They seized upon me; I screamed like a madman, kicked them and scratched them; but what could I do against seven or eight great savages? They tied my legs together, and my hands behind me, and carried me like a parcel. I could then do nothing but cry out for Fritz; and the knight of the gun came rather too soon. In attempting to defend me, some way or other, off went his gun, and the ball took up its abode in my shoulder. I can assure you an unpleasant visitor is that same ball; but here he is, the scoundrel! Father Willis pulled him out by the same door as that by which he went in; and since his departure, all goes on well.

“Parabéry told me,” Jack said, “that they noticed how much I looked like Francis as soon as I picked up my flageolet. After I played for a minute or two, the savage wearing my mom’s handkerchief—who I now know is the king—interrupted me by shouting and clapping his hands. He spoke earnestly to the others, pointing to my face and to my flageolet, which he had taken; he also looked at my blue cotton jacket, which one of them had tied around his shoulders like a cape; and then he must have given orders for me to be taken to the canoe. They grabbed me; I screamed like a maniac, kicked them, and scratched them; but what could I do against seven or eight big savages? They tied my legs together and my hands behind my back and carried me like a package. All I could do was shout for Fritz; and the knight with the gun came a little too soon. In trying to defend me, somehow his gun went off, and the bullet lodged in my shoulder. I can tell you that bullet is an unwelcome guest; but here he is, the scoundrel! Father Willis pulled it out the same way it came in; and since it left, everything has been going well.

“Now for my story. When poor Fritz saw that I was wounded, he fell down as if he had been shot at the same time. The savages, thinking he was dead, took away his gun, and carried me into the canoe. I was in despair more for the death of my brother than from my wound, which I almost forgot, and was wishing they would throw me into the sea, when I saw Fritz running at full speed to the shore; but we pushed off, and I could only call out some words of consolation. The savages were very kind to me, and one of them held me up seated on the out-rigger; they washed my wound with sea-water, sucked it, tore my pocket-handkerchief to make a bandage, and as soon as we landed, squeezed the juice of some herb into it. We sailed very quickly, and passed the place where we had landed in the morning. I knew it again, and could see Ernest standing on a sand-bank; he was watching us, and I held out my arms to him. I thought I also saw you, papa, and heard you call; but the savages yelled, and though I cried with all my strength, it was in vain. I little thought they were taking me to mamma. As soon as we had disembarked, they brought me to this grotto; and I thought I must have died of surprise and joy when I was met by mamma and Francis, and then by Sophia, Matilda, mamma Emily, and Mr. Willis, who is a second father to me. This is the end of my story. And a very pretty end it is, that brings us all together. What matters it to have had a little vexation for all this pleasure? I owe it all to you, Fritz; if you had let me sink to the bottom of the sea, instead of dragging me out by the hair, I should not have been here so happy as I am; I am obliged to the gun, too; thanks to it, I was the first to reach mamma, and see our new friends.”

“Now for my story. When poor Fritz saw that I was hurt, he fell down as if he had been shot at the same time. The savages, thinking he was dead, took his gun and carried me into the canoe. I was more devastated by my brother’s death than by my injury, which I almost forgot, wishing they would throw me into the sea, when I saw Fritz running full speed to the shore; but we pushed off, and I could only call out some words of comfort. The savages were very kind to me, and one of them held me up seated on the outrigger; they washed my wound with seawater, sucked it, tore my handkerchief to make a bandage, and as soon as we landed, squeezed the juice of some herb into it. We sailed really fast and passed the place where we had landed in the morning. I recognized it and saw Ernest standing on a sandbank; he was watching us, and I reached out my arms to him. I thought I also saw you, Dad, and heard you call; but the savages yelled, and even though I cried with all my strength, it was in vain. I had no idea they were taking me to Mom. As soon as we disembarked, they took me to this grotto; I thought I would die from surprise and joy when I was reunited with Mom and Francis, and then with Sophia, Matilda, Mom Emily, and Mr. Willis, who is like a second father to me. This is the end of my story. And what a beautiful ending it is, bringing us all together. What does it matter to have had a little frustration for all this joy? I owe it all to you, Fritz; if you had let me sink to the bottom of the sea instead of pulling me out by the hair, I wouldn’t be here as happy as I am; I’m also grateful to the gun; thanks to it, I was the first to reach Mom and see our new friends.”

The next day, Fritz and Ernest set out on their expedition with Parabéry, in his canoe, to seek our two valued dogs. The good islander carried his canoe on his back to the shore. I saw them set off, but not without some dread, in such a frail bark, into which the water leaked through every seam. But my boys could swim well; and the kind, skilful, and bold Parabéry undertook to answer for their safety. I therefore recommended them to God, and returned to the grotto, to tranquillize my wife’s fears. Jack was inconsolable that he could not form one of the party; but Sophia scolded him for wishing to leave them, to go upon the sea, which had swallowed up poor Alfred.

The next day, Fritz and Ernest set out on their expedition with Parabéry in his canoe to search for our two beloved dogs. The good islander carried his canoe on his back to the shore. I watched them leave, but I couldn’t help but feel anxious about them heading out in such a fragile boat, which leaked water through every seam. But my boys were strong swimmers, and the kind, skilled, and brave Parabéry promised to keep them safe. So, I entrusted them to God and went back to the grotto to calm my wife’s worries. Jack was heartbroken that he couldn’t join them, but Sophia scolded him for wanting to leave them behind to go out on the sea, which had taken poor Alfred.

In the evening we had the pleasure of seeing our brave dogs enter the grotto. They leaped on us in a way that terrified the poor little girls at first, who took them for bears; but they were soon reconciled to them when they saw them fawn round us, lick our hands, and pass from one to the other to be caressed. My sons had had no difficulty in finding them; they had run to them at the first call, and seemed delighted to see their masters again.

In the evening, we enjoyed watching our brave dogs enter the cave. They jumped on us in a way that scared the poor little girls at first, who thought they were bears; but they quickly warmed up to them when they saw them nuzzling us, licking our hands, and moving from person to person to get petted. My sons had no trouble finding them; they came running at the first call and seemed thrilled to see their owners again.

The poor animals had subsisted on the remains of the kangaroos, but apparently had met with no fresh water, for they seemed dying with thirst, and rushed to the brook as soon as they discovered it, and returned again and again. Then they followed us to the hut of the good missionary, who had been engaged all day in visiting the dwellings of the natives, and teaching them the truths of religion. I had accompanied him, but, from ignorance of the language, could not aid him. I was, however, delighted with the simple and earnest manner in which he spoke, and the eagerness with which they heard him. He finished by a prayer, kneeling, and they all imitated him, lifting up their hands and eyes to heaven. He told me he was trying to make them celebrate the Sunday. He assembled them in his tent, which he wished to make a temple for the worship of the true God. He intended to consecrate it for this purpose, and to live in the grotto, after our departure.

The poor animals had survived on the scraps of the kangaroos, but apparently hadn't found any fresh water, as they seemed to be dying of thirst. They rushed to the brook as soon as they discovered it, returning over and over. Then they followed us to the hut of the good missionary, who had spent the day visiting the homes of the locals and teaching them the truths of religion. I had gone along, but couldn't help him due to my lack of understanding of the language. However, I was impressed by the simple and sincere way he spoke and how eagerly they listened to him. He ended with a prayer, kneeling, and they all copied him, raising their hands and eyes to heaven. He told me he was trying to get them to celebrate Sunday. He gathered them in his tent, which he wanted to turn into a place for worshiping the true God. He planned to dedicate it for this purpose and live in the grotto after we left.

The day arrived at last. Jack’s shoulder was nearly healed, and my wife, along with her happiness, recovered her strength. The pinnace had been so well guarded by Parabéry and his friends that it suffered no injury. I distributed among the islanders everything I had that could please them, and made Parabéry invite them to come and see us in our island, requesting we might live on friendly terms. Mr. Willis wished much to see it, and to complete our happiness he promised to accompany and spend some days with us; and Parabéry said he would take him back when he wished it.

The day finally came. Jack's shoulder was almost healed, and my wife, along with her happiness, regained her strength. Parabéry and his friends had protected the boat so well that it didn’t suffer any damage. I gave the islanders everything I had that might please them and had Parabéry invite them to visit us on our island, hoping we could live peacefully together. Mr. Willis really wanted to see it, and to make our happiness complete, he promised to join us and spend a few days with us; Parabéry said he would take him back whenever he wanted.

We embarked, then, after taking leave of Bara-ourou, who was very liberal in his presents, giving us, besides fruits of every kind, a whole hog roasted, which was excellent.

We set off after saying goodbye to Bara-ourou, who was very generous with his gifts, giving us, along with all kinds of fruit, a whole roasted pig, which was fantastic.

We were fourteen in number; sixteen, reckoning the two dogs. The missionary accompanied us, and a young islander, whom Parabéry had procured to be his servant, as he was too old and too much occupied with his mission to attend to his own wants. This youth was of a good disposition and much attached to him. Parabéry took him to assist in rowing when he returned.

We were fourteen people; sixteen if you count the two dogs. The missionary came with us, along with a young islander whom Parabéry had hired as his servant, since he was too old and too busy with his mission to take care of himself. This young man was friendly and very devoted to him. Parabéry took him along to help with rowing when he came back.

Emily could not but feel rather affected at leaving the grotto, where she had passed four tranquil, if not happy years, fulfilling the duties of a mother. Neither could she avoid a painful sensation when she once more saw the sea that had been so fatal to her husband and son; she could scarcely subdue the fear she had of trusting all she had left to that treacherous element. She held her daughters in her arms, and prayed for the protection of Heaven. Mr. Willis and I spoke to her of the goodness of God, and pointed out to her the calmness of the water, the security of the pinnace, and the favourable state of the wind. My wife described to her our establishment, and promised her a far more beautiful grotto than the one she had left, and at last she became more reconciled.

Emily couldn’t help but feel quite affected when leaving the grotto, where she had spent four peaceful, if not entirely happy, years fulfilling her duties as a mother. She also couldn’t shake off the painful feeling when she saw the sea again, which had been so tragic for her husband and son; she struggled to overcome her fear of putting everything she had left in the hands of that dangerous water. Holding her daughters in her arms, she prayed for Heaven’s protection. Mr. Willis and I talked to her about God’s goodness and pointed out the calmness of the water, the safety of the small boat, and the favorable wind conditions. My wife described our home to her and promised her a much more beautiful grotto than the one she was leaving, and eventually, she became more at ease.

After seven or eight hours’ voyage, we arrived at Cape Disappointment, and we agreed the bay should henceforth be called the Bay of the Happy Return.

After a seven or eight-hour journey, we reached Cape Disappointment, and we decided that the bay should now be called the Bay of the Happy Return.

The distance to Tent House from hence was much too great for the ladies and children to go on foot. My intention was to take them by water to the other end of the island near our house; but my elder sons had begged to be landed at the bay, to seek their live stock, and take them home. I left them there with Parabéry; Jack recommended his buffalo to them, and Francis his bull, and all were found. We coasted the island, arrived at Safety Bay, and were soon at Tent House, where we found all, as we had left it, in good condition.

The distance to the Tent House from here was much too far for the ladies and kids to walk. I planned to take them by boat to the other side of the island near our house; however, my older sons asked to be dropped off at the bay to look for their livestock and bring them home. I left them there with Parabéry; Jack recommended his buffalo to them, and Francis his bull, and they found them all. We sailed around the island, reached Safety Bay, and were soon at Tent House, where we found everything just as we had left it, in good condition.

Notwithstanding the description my wife had given them, our new guests found our establishment far beyond their expectation. With what delight Jack and Francis ran up and down the colonnade with their young friends! What stories they had to tell of all the surprises they had prepared for their mother! They showed them Fritzia, Jackia, the Franciade, and gave their friends water from their beautiful fountain. Absence seemed to have improved everything; and I must confess I had some difficulty to refrain from demonstrating my joy as wildly as my children. Minou-minou, Parabéry, and Canda, were lost in admiration, calling out continually, miti! beautiful! My wife was busied in arranging a temporary lodging for our guests. The work-room was given up to Mr. Willis; my wife and Madame Emily had our apartment, the two little girls being with them, to whom the hammocks of the elder boys were appropriated. Canda, who knew nothing about beds, was wonderfully comfortable on the carpet. Fritz, Ernest, and the two natives, stowed themselves wherever they wished, in the colonnade, or in the kitchen; all was alike to them. I slept on moss and cotton in Mr. Willis’s room, with my two younger sons. Every one was content, waiting till our ulterior arrangements were completed.

Despite what my wife had told them, our new guests were amazed by our place. Jack and Francis ran happily up and down the colonnade with their friends! They had so many stories to share about all the surprises they had planned for their mom! They showed them Fritzia, Jackia, and Franciade, and treated their friends to water from their beautiful fountain. It felt like everything had improved during our time apart; I must admit I struggled to keep my excitement in check, unlike my kids. Minou-minou, Parabéry, and Canda were in awe, constantly exclaiming, miti! beautiful! My wife was busy getting a temporary place ready for our guests. We gave Mr. Willis the workroom; my wife and Madame Emily took our apartment, with the two little girls staying with them, using the older boys' hammocks. Canda, who didn’t know anything about beds, was surprisingly comfortable on the carpet. Fritz, Ernest, and the two locals found spots wherever they liked, in the colonnade or the kitchen; it didn’t matter to them. I settled down on moss and cotton in Mr. Willis’s room with my two younger sons. Everyone was happy, waiting for our further arrangements to be sorted out.


CONCLUSION.

I must conclude my journal here. We can scarcely be more happy than we are, and I feel no cares about my children. Fritz is so fond of the chase and of mechanics, and Ernest of study, that they will not wish to marry; but I please myself by hoping at some time to see my dear Jack and Francis happily united to Sophia and Matilda. What remains for me to tell? The details of happiness, however sweet in enjoyment, are often tedious in recital.

I have to wrap up my journal here. We can hardly be any happier than we are, and I don’t worry about my kids. Fritz loves hunting and building things, and Ernest is really into studying, so they probably won’t want to get married. But I like to imagine that one day my dear Jack and Francis will be happily married to Sophia and Matilda. What else is there for me to say? The details of happiness, while enjoyable in the moment, can often be boring to share.

I will only add, that after passing a few days with us, Mr. Willis returned to his charge, promising to visit us, and eventually to join us. The Grotto Ernestine, fitted up by Fritz and Parabéry, made a pretty abode for Madame Hirtel and her daughters, and the two islanders. Minou-minou did not leave his young mammas, and was very useful to them. I must state, also, that my son Ernest, without abandoning the study of natural history, applied himself to astronomy, and mounted the large telescope belonging to the ship; he acquired considerable knowledge of this sublime science, which his mother, however, considered somewhat useless. The course of the other planets did not interest her, so long as all went on well in that which she inhabited; and nothing now was wanting to her happiness, surrounded as she was by friends.

I’ll just add that after spending a few days with us, Mr. Willis returned to his responsibilities, promising to come back and eventually join us. The Grotto Ernestine, set up by Fritz and Parabéry, made a lovely home for Madame Hirtel and her daughters, as well as the two islanders. Minou-minou stayed close to his young mothers and was very helpful to them. I should also mention that my son Ernest, while still focusing on natural history, also took an interest in astronomy and set up the large telescope from the ship. He gained a lot of knowledge in this awesome field, although his mother thought it was somewhat pointless. The movements of the other planets didn’t concern her, as long as everything was going well in the one she lived in; and nothing was missing from her happiness, being surrounded by friends.

The following year we had a visit from a Russian vessel, the Neva, commanded by Captain Krusenstern, a countryman and distant relation of mine. The celebrated Horner, of Zurich, accompanied him as astronomer. Having read the first part of our journal, sent into Europe by Captain Johnson, he had come purposely to see us. Delighted with our establishment, he did not advise us to quit it. Captain Krusenstern invited us to take a passage in his vessel; we declined his offer; but my wife, though she renounced her country for ever, was glad of the opportunity of making inquiries about her relations and friends. As she had concluded, her good mother had died some years before, blessing her absent children. My wife shed some tears, but was consoled by the certainty of her mother’s eternal felicity, and the hope of their meeting in futurity.

The following year, we had a visit from a Russian ship, the Neva, commanded by Captain Krusenstern, who was a fellow countryman and a distant relative of mine. The renowned Horner from Zurich joined him as the astronomer. Having read the first part of our journal, which Captain Johnson had sent to Europe, he came specifically to see us. He was impressed with our setup and did not advise us to leave it. Captain Krusenstern invited us to travel on his ship; we turned down his offer. However, my wife, even though she had given up her home country forever, was pleased to have the chance to ask about her relatives and friends. As she had suspected, her dear mother had passed away a few years earlier, blessing her absent children. My wife cried a bit but found comfort in knowing her mother was eternally happy and in the hope of reuniting in the future.

One of her brothers was also dead; he had left a daughter, to whom my wife had always been attached, though she was very young when we left. Henrietta Bodmer was now sixteen, and, Mr. Horner assured us, a most amiable girl. My wife wished much to have her with us.

One of her brothers had also passed away; he left behind a daughter whom my wife had always felt close to, even though she was very young when we moved away. Henrietta Bodmer was now sixteen, and Mr. Horner assured us she was a really pleasant girl. My wife really wanted to have her with us.

Ernest would not leave Mr. Horner a moment, he was so delighted to meet with one so eminently skilful in his favourite science. Astronomy made them such friends, that Mr. Horner petitioned me to allow him to take my son to Europe, promising to bring him back himself in a few years. This was a great trial to us, but I felt that his taste for science required a larger field than our island. His mother was reluctant to part with him, but consoled herself with a notion, that he might bring his cousin Henrietta back with him.

Ernest wouldn’t leave Mr. Horner for a second; he was thrilled to meet someone so skilled in his favorite subject. Their shared passion for astronomy formed a strong bond, leading Mr. Horner to ask me if he could take my son to Europe, promising to return him in a few years. This was a difficult decision for us, but I realized that Ernest’s interest in science needed a bigger environment than our island could provide. His mother was hesitant to let him go, but found some comfort in the thought that he might bring his cousin Henrietta back with him.

Many tears were shed at our parting; indeed, the grief of his mother was so intense, that my son seemed almost inclined to give up his inclination; but Mr. Horner made some observations about the transit of Venus, so interesting that Ernest could not resist. He left us, promising to bring us back everything we wished for. In the mean time Captain Krusenstern left us a good supply of powder, provisions, seeds, and some capital tools, to the great delight of Fritz and Jack. They regretted their brother greatly, but diverted their minds from sorrow by application to mechanics, assisted by the intelligent Parabéry. They have already succeeded in constructing, near the cascade, a corn-mill and a saw-mill, and have built a very good oven.

Many tears were shed when we said goodbye; in fact, his mother's grief was so deep that my son almost seemed ready to give up his desire. However, Mr. Horner made some comments about the transit of Venus that were so fascinating that Ernest couldn't resist. He left us, promising to bring back everything we wanted. In the meantime, Captain Krusenstern left us with a good supply of gunpowder, food, seeds, and some great tools, much to Fritz and Jack's delight. They really missed their brother, but distracted themselves from their sadness by focusing on mechanics, with help from the clever Parabéry. They have already managed to build a corn mill and a sawmill near the waterfall, and they’ve constructed a really good oven.

We miss Ernest very much. Though his taste for study withdrew him a good deal from us, and he was not so useful as his brothers, we found his calm and considerate advice often of value, and his mildness always spread a charm over our circle, in joy or in trouble.

We really miss Ernest. Even though he preferred to spend a lot of time studying and wasn’t as helpful as his brothers, we often found his calm and thoughtful advice valuable, and his gentle nature always brought a sense of warmth to our group, whether we were happy or facing challenges.

Except this little affliction, we are very happy. Our labours are divided regularly. Fritz and Jack manage the Board of Works. They have opened a passage through the rock which divided us from the other side of the island; thus doubling our domain and our riches. At the same time, they formed a dwelling for Madame Hirtel near our own, from the same excavation in the rock. Fritz took great pains with it; the windows are made of oiled paper instead of glass; but we usually assemble in our large work-room, which is very well lighted.

Except for this small issue, we are very happy. Our tasks are divided up well. Fritz and Jack take care of the Board of Works. They’ve created a passage through the rock that separated us from the other side of the island, effectively doubling our territory and our wealth. At the same time, they built a home for Madame Hirtel close to ours from the same excavation in the rock. Fritz put a lot of effort into it; the windows are made of oiled paper instead of glass, but we usually gather in our large workroom, which is very well lit.

Francis has the charge of our flocks and of the poultry, all greatly increased. For me, I preside over the grand work of agriculture. The two mothers, their two daughters, and Canda, manage the garden, spin, weave, take care of our clothes, and attend to household matters. Thus we all work, and everything prospers. Several families of the natives, pupils of Mr. Willis, have obtained leave, through him, to join us, and are settled at Falcon’s Nest, and at the Farm. These people assist us in the cultivation of our ground, and our dear missionary in the cultivation of our souls. Nothing is wanting to complete our happiness but the return of dear Ernest.

Francis is in charge of our flocks and poultry, both of which have greatly increased. I oversee the main agricultural work. The two mothers, their two daughters, and Canda manage the garden, spin, weave, take care of our clothes, and handle household chores. This way, we all contribute, and everything thrives. Several families of the locals, students of Mr. Willis, have been allowed to join us through him and are now settled at Falcon’s Nest and at the Farm. These people help us with farming and our beloved missionary supports our spiritual growth. The only thing missing for our happiness is the return of dear Ernest.


POSTSCRIPT TWO YEARS AFTER.

We are now as happy as we can desire,—our son is returned. According to my wishes, he had made out Captain Johnson and Lieutenant Bell, our first visitors, whom the storm had driven from us, but who were still determined to see us again. My son found them preparing for another voyage to the South Seas. He at once seized the opportunity of accompanying them, impatiently desirous to revisit the island, and to bring to us Henrietta Bodmer, now become his wife. She is a simple, amiable Swiss girl, who suits us well, and who is delighted to see once more her kind aunt, now become her mother.

We are as happy as we could hope to be—our son has returned. As I wished, he found Captain Johnson and Lieutenant Bell, our first visitors, who had been kept away by the storm but were still eager to see us again. My son discovered them getting ready for another journey to the South Seas. He quickly took the chance to join them, eager to revisit the island and to bring back Henrietta Bodmer, who is now his wife. She is a sweet, kind Swiss girl who fits in well with us and is excited to see her dear aunt again, who is now like a mother to her.

My wife is overjoyed; this is her first daughter-in-law, but Jack and Francis, as well as Sophia and Matilda, are growing up; and moreover, my dear wife, who has great ideas of married happiness, hopes to induce Emily to consent to be united to Fritz at the same time as her daughters are married. Fritz would feel all the value of this change; his character is already softened by her society, and though she is a few years older than he is, she is blessed with all the vivacity of youth. Mr. Willis approves of this union, and we hope he will live to solemnize the three marriages. Ernest and Henrietta inhabit the Grotto Ernestine, which his brothers fitted up as a very tasteful dwelling. They had even, to gratify their brother, raised on the rock above the grotto a sort of observatory, where the telescope is mounted, to enable him to make his astronomical observations. Yet I perceive his passion for exploring distant planets is less strong, since he has so much to attach him to this.

My wife is thrilled; this is her first daughter-in-law, but Jack and Francis, along with Sophia and Matilda, are all growing up. Additionally, my dear wife, who has high hopes for married happiness, wants to persuade Emily to agree to marry Fritz at the same time as her daughters. Fritz would truly appreciate this change; his character has already softened by spending time with her, and even though she is a few years older than him, she has all the youthful energy. Mr. Willis supports this union, and we hope he will be around to officiate all three weddings. Ernest and Henrietta live in the Grotto Ernestine, which his brothers turned into a lovely home. They even built an observatory on the rock above the grotto to please their brother, where a telescope is set up for him to conduct his astronomical observations. However, I've noticed that his passion for exploring distant planets has faded a bit now that he has so much tying him down here.

I give this conclusion of my journal to Captain Johnson, to take into Europe, to be added to the former part. If any one of my readers be anxious for further particulars respecting our colony and our mode of life, let him set out for the Happy Island; he will be warmly welcomed, and may join with us in Ernest’s chorus, which we now sing with additional pleasure,—

I’m giving this conclusion of my journal to Captain Johnson to take to Europe and add to the previous part. If any of my readers are eager for more details about our colony and how we live, they should head to the Happy Island; they’ll be given a warm welcome and can join us in singing Ernest’s chorus, which we now sing with even more joy—

All we love around us smile,
Joyful is our Desert Isle.



DECEMBER, 1850.

CHRISTMAS PRESENTS AND GIFT-BOOKS, IN NEW AND ELEGANT BINDINGS, PUBLISHED OR SOLD BY GEORGE ROTJTLEDGE AND CO., 36, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON.

CHRISTMAS PRESENTS AND GIFT BOOKS, IN NEW AND ELEGANT BINDINGS, PUBLISHED OR SOLD BY GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND CO., 36, SOHO SQUARE, LONDON.


Edited by the Rev. J. Cumming, D.D.

Edited by Rev. J. Cumming, D.D.

Family Pictures from the Bible.

Bible Family Photos.

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“This work showcases portraits of families from Scripture—a collection full of groups and examples—worthy of our study because they are representations of perfect originals. Any flaws or defects in a family are clearly highlighted for us to avoid, while excellence and beauty are presented clearly and brightly. Additionally, the elements that make up and create these qualities are identified with unmistakable clarity.”—Extract from Dr. Cumming’s Preface.

The above Work forms the first volume of a New Series of Religious Works, which the Publishers have in contemplation, under the general title of

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THE FAMILY SACRED LIBRARY.

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MISS M’INTOSHT’S NEW CHRISTMAS BOOK. Just Ready.

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Evenings at Donaldson Manor,

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Praise and Values.

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The works of Miss M’Intosh have become popular in the best sense of the word. The simple beauty of her narratives, combining pure sentiment with high principle and noble views of life and duties, ought to win for them a hearing at every fireside in our land. They place her beside the Edgeworths, and the Barbaulds, and the Opies, who have so long delighted and instructed us; and there is little doubt, that as she becomes known, so will her works be valued as highly as any of the most popular works of the above justly-famed authors, causing her name to become a “Household Word” as a pleasing and instructive writer.

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Macfarlane’s Indian Empire,

Macfarlane's Indian Empire,

Being our Indian Empire, its History and Present State, from the Earliest Settlement of the British in Hindoostan to the close of the year 1846, including the late Sikh War, and the administrations of Lords Ellenborough and Hardinge, illustrated with steel portraits and numerous wood engravings. Two volumes, square 8vo., cloth, full gilt back and side, 9s.

Being our Indian Empire, its History and Present State, from the earliest settlement of the British in India to the end of the year 1846, including the recent Sikh War and the administrations of Lords Ellenborough and Hardinge, illustrated with steel portraits and many wood engravings. Two volumes, square 8vo, cloth, full gilt back and side, 9s.

“As a whole, the work is excellent. Just tributes are paid to the characters of General Nott, Lord Ellenborough, the ‘Fighting Napiers,’ Lord Hardinge, Sir Harry Smith, and others.

“As a whole, the work is excellent. Just tributes are paid to the characters of General Nott, Lord Ellenborough, the ‘Fighting Napiers,’ Lord Hardinge, Sir Harry Smith, and others.”

“In illustration, these volumes contain a good map of India, portraits of Lord Clive and the Marquess Wellesley, and not fewer than forty other engravings. Nor to the economist of money and space must the cheapness, compactness, and portability of these volumes pass unrecommended.”

“In this book, you'll find a detailed map of India, portraits of Lord Clive and the Marquess Wellesley, along with at least forty other engravings. Additionally, anyone concerned about saving money and space will find the affordability, compact size, and portability of these books noteworthy.”

Pope’s Complete Poetical Works,

Pope's Complete Poetry,

Including his Translations of the Iliad and Odyssey. A new edition, edited by H.F. Cary, M.A., with a biographical notice of the author, and an illustration. Royal 8vo., cloth, full gilt back (uniform with Murray’s Byron, Southey, &c.), 10s. 6d.

Including his translations of the Iliad and Odyssey. A new edition, edited by H.F. Cary, M.A., with a biography of the author and an illustration. Royal 8vo., cloth, full gilt back (uniform with Murray’s Byron, Southey, etc.), £10.50.

Poets and Poetry of Britain,

British Poets and Poetry,

From Chaucer to Tennyson, with Biographical Sketches, a rapid view of the characteristic attributes of both, and an Introductory Essay on the Origin and Progress of English Poetical Literature. 8vo., cloth, gilt back, 6s.

From Chaucer to Tennyson, with Biographical Sketches, a quick overview of the key traits of both, and an Introductory Essay on the Origin and Progress of English Poetic Literature. 8vo., cloth, gilt back, 6s.

Campbell’s Lives of the British Admirals,

Campbell’s Lives of the British Admirals,

And Naval History of Great Britain, continued to the present time, third edition, illustrated with Portraits, Battle Scenes, &c. Foolscap 8vo., cloth extra, gilt edges and sides, 5s.

And Naval History of Great Britain, continued to the present time, third edition, illustrated with portraits, battle scenes, etc. Foolscap 8vo., extra cloth, gilt edges and sides, 5s.

The SAME EDITION, plain cloth, 4s. 6d.

The SAME EDITION, plain cloth, £4.60.

Myrtle’s Man of Snow,

Myrtle’s Snowman,

And other Tales, with many illustrations. Square, cloth, gilt, 2s. 6d.

And other stories, with a lot of illustrations. Square, cloth cover, gold lettering, £2.50.

Myrtle’s The Pet Lamb,

Myrtle’s The Pet Lamb,

Bertha and the Bird, &c., illustrated by Absolon. Cloth, gilt, 2s. 6d.

Bertha and the Bird, etc., illustrated by Absolon. Cloth, gold-embossed, 2s. 6d.

Myrtle’s Little Amy’s Birthday,

Myrtle's Little Amy's Birthday,

And other Tales, illustrated by Absolon. Square, cloth, gilt, 2s. 6d.

And other Tales, illustrated by Absolon. Square, cloth, gold-embossed, £2.50.

Myrtle’s Story Book of Country Scenes,

Myrtle’s Story Book of Country Scenes,

Illustrated by Absolon. Square, cloth, gilt, 2s. 6d.

Illustrated by Absolon. Square, cloth, gold leaf, £2.50.

Myrtle’s Little Foundling,

Myrtle's Little Foundling,

And other Tales, with plates by Absolon. Square, cloth, gilt, 2s. 6d. The above with plates beautifully coloured, and gilt edges, 3s. 6d. each.

And other Tales, with illustrations by Absolon. Square, cloth, gold leaf, £2.50. The above with beautifully colored illustrations, and gold edges, £3.50 each.

*** These stories were invented, at different times, for the amusement of a little girl six years old. The pleasure she took in them induced their collection into a series, and has led to their publication.

*** These stories were created at different times to entertain a six-year-old girl. The joy she found in them inspired their collection into a series, which has resulted in their publication.

Friendship’s Offering,

Gift of Friendship,

Containing Tales by Leitch Ritchie, Hon. Mrs. Norton, Camilla Toulmin, Mrs. Baron Wilson, Miss Mitford, Barry Cornwall, T.H. Bayley, Allan Cunningham, D.L. Bourcicault, Harrison Ainsworth, &c. (four different volumes). Beautifully bound in cloth, gilt edges, 4s. 6d. each.

Containing Tales by Leitch Ritchie, Hon. Mrs. Norton, Camilla Toulmin, Mrs. Baron Wilson, Miss Mitford, Barry Cornwall, T.H. Bayley, Allan Cunningham, D.L. Bourcicault, Harrison Ainsworth, etc. (four different volumes). Beautifully bound in cloth, with gilt edges, £4.50 each.

The Lover’s Leap,

The Lover's Leap,

And other Tales, by Leitch Ritchie, Mrs. S.C. Hall, C. Knight, Pringle, &c., illustrated with twelve steel engravings, in an entirely new and gorgeous binding, 4s. 6d.

And other Tales, by Leitch Ritchie, Mrs. S.C. Hall, C. Knight, Pringle, &c., illustrated with twelve steel engravings, in a completely new and beautiful binding, 4s. 6d.

The Winter’s Wreath,

The Winter Wreath,

With contributions by the Hon. Mrs. Norton, Thomas Miller, W.H. Harrison, &c., illustrated with highly-finished engravings, 4s. 6d.

With contributions from the Hon. Mrs. Norton, Thomas Miller, W.H. Harrison, etc., illustrated with detailed engravings, £4.6.

The Countess,

The Countess,

And other Tales, by the Countess of Blessington, &c., with beautiful illustrations, in an entirely new and gorgeous binding in colours and gold, gilt edges, 4s. 6d.

And other Tales, by the Countess of Blessington, etc., with beautiful illustrations, in a completely new and stunning binding in colors and gold, gilt edges, £4.6.

Homer’s Iliad,

Homer's Iliad,

Translated by Pope. A new edition, printed in a superior manner, on superfine paper, with illustrations. Royal 32mo., cloth, full gilt back, sides, and edges, 3s. 6d.

Translated by Pope. A new edition, printed beautifully on high-quality paper, with illustrations. Royal 32mo., cloth, fully gilt back, sides, and edges, £3.60.

Homer’s Odyssey,

Homer's Odyssey,

Translated by Pope. A new edition, printed in a superior manner, on superfine paper, with illustrations. Royal 32mo., cloth, full gilt back, sides, and edges, 3s. 6d.

Translated by Pope. A new edition, printed in a high-quality manner, on fine paper, with illustrations. Royal 32mo., cloth, fully gilt back, sides, and edges, £3.50.

Oliver Goldsmith, a Biography;

Oliver Goldsmith: A Biography

The Tour on the Prairies; Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey; &c. By Washington Irving. Complete in one volume, with frontispiece, cloth extra, gilt, and gilt edges, 3s. 6d.

The Tour on the Prairies; Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey; etc. By Washington Irving. Complete in one volume, with a frontispiece, extra cloth, gold detailing, and gilded edges, 3s. 6d.

“Its perusal leaves a positive sense of refinement, which we should think would make the book invaluable to thousands.”—Tribune.

“Its reading gives a positive feeling of sophistication, which we believe would make the book incredibly valuable to thousands.”—Tribune.

“The reader of Mr. Irving’s work will resign himself into the hands of his biographer, and be carried on to the last page in uninterrupted gratification.”—Blackwood.

“The reader of Mr. Irving’s work will submit to his biographer and be taken through to the last page in continuous enjoyment.”—Blackwood.

Bible Stories,

Bible Stories

From the Creation to the Conquest of Canaan, by G.M. Bussey, with illustrations by R. Westall, R.A., and John Martin. Square, cloth, gilt back and sides, reduced to 2s. 6d.

From the Creation to the Conquest of Canaan, by G.M. Bussey, with illustrations by R. Westall, R.A., and John Martin. Square, cloth, gilt back and sides, now available for 2s. 6d.

Village Tales from Alsatia,

Village Stories from Alsatia,

Translated from the German by Sir Alexander Duff Gordon, with a coloured illustration. Cloth, gilt, reduced to 3s.

Translated from German by Sir Alexander Duff Gordon, featuring a colored illustration. Cloth, gold embossed, now reduced to 3s.

Romance of War,

War Romance

The Two Series complete in one volume. By James Grant, with an illustration by Gilbert. Foolscap 8vo., with gilt back, 2s. 6d.

The Two Series complete in one volume. By James Grant, with an illustration by Gilbert. Foolscap 8vo., with a gilt spine, £2.50.

“In this work the excitement and adventure incident to a Soldier’s Life is vividly portrayed in the author’s best manner, the hero playing a conspicuous part in the Peninsular War, and finishing his career on the field of Waterloo; every reader must be enchanted with the story, perusing it with pleasure, and laying it down with regret.”

“In this work, the thrill and adventure of a soldier's life are vividly depicted in the author's finest style, with the hero playing a prominent role in the Peninsular War and concluding his career at the Battle of Waterloo; every reader will surely be captivated by the story, reading it with enjoyment and putting it down with a sense of loss.”

Goethe’s Faust,

Goethe's Faust

A new metrical translation, by Lewis Filmore. Foolscap 8vo., cloth, gilt back and edges (W. Smith), reduced to 3s.

A new metrical translation by Lewis Filmore. Foolscap 8vo, cloth, gilt spine and edges (W. Smith), now only 3s.

Pride and Prejudice,

Pride and Prejudice,

And Sense and Sensibility. By Miss Austen, complete in one volume, with an illustration by Gilbert. Foolscap 8vo., with gilt back, 2s. 6d.

And Sense and Sensibility. By Miss Austen, complete in one volume, with an illustration by Gilbert. Foolscap 8vo., with a gilt spine, £2.50.

“Miss Austen’s knowledge of the world, and the peculiar tact with which she presents characters, the reader cannot fail to recognize. The subjects are not often elegant, and certainly never grand, but they are finished up to nature, and with a precision which delights the reader.”—by Sir Walter Scott, in the Quarterly Review.

“Miss Austen’s understanding of the world and her unique skill in presenting characters are undeniable. The topics she covers aren’t usually refined and definitely aren’t grand, but they are true to life and expressed with a detail that captivates the reader.” —by Sir Walter Scott, in the Quarterly Review.

Mrs. Butler’s (late Miss F. Kemble) Year of Consolation,

Mrs. Butler’s (formerly Miss F. Kemble) Year of Comfort,

Complete in one volume, post 8vo., cloth, full gilt back and edges (Moxon), reduced to 6s.

Complete in one volume, 8vo., cloth, with full gilt spine and edges (Moxon), now only 6s.

Malcolm’s Travels

Malcolm's Adventures

In South-eastern Asia, embracing Hindoostan, Malaya, Siam, and China, with a full account of the Burman Empire, illustrated with numerous woodcuts and maps, in one volume, reduced to 6s.

In Southeast Asia, including Hindustan, Malaya, Siam, and China, with a complete overview of the Burman Empire, featuring many illustrations and maps, all in one volume, priced at 6s.

Mrs. Loudon’s Young Naturalist.

Mrs. Loudon’s Young Naturalist.

An Entertaining Companion. A new edition, entirely revised by Mrs. Loudon, illustrated with numerous engravings. Square l6mo., cloth extra, 3s. 6d.

An Entertaining Companion. A new edition, fully updated by Mrs. Loudon, featuring many illustrations. Square 16mo, extra cloth, £3.6.

Kaloolah and the Berber;

Kaloolah and the Berber;

Or, Journeyings in the Djébel Kumri, a book of romantic adventure; and The Berber; or, the Mountaineer of the Atlas. A Tale of Morocco, by Dr. Mayo. A new edition, complete in one volume, with a steel engraving. Cloth extra, gilt edges and sides, 3s. 6d.

Or, Journeyings in the Djébel Kumri, a book of romantic adventure; and The Berber; or, the Mountaineer of the Atlas. A Tale of Morocco, by Dr. Mayo. A new edition, complete in one volume, with a steel engraving. Cloth extra, gilt edges and sides, 3s. 6d.

“The most singular and captivating narrative since Robinson Crusoe.”—Home Journal.

“The most unique and intriguing story since Robinson Crusoe.” —Home Journal.

“By far the most attractive and entertaining book we have read since the days we were fascinated by the chef-d’oeuvre of Defoe, or the graceful inventions of the Arabian Nights.”—U.S. Magazine.

“By far the most appealing and enjoyable book we’ve read since the time we were captivated by Defoe's masterpiece or the elegant tales of the Arabian Nights.” —U.S. Magazine.

Daly’s Edition of the Standard English Poets,

Daly’s Edition of the Standard English Poets,

Printed in royal 18mo., illustrated with numerous engravings, and bound in cloth extra, full gilt back and sides, 5s. each:—

Printed in royal 18mo, illustrated with many engravings, and bound in extra cloth with full gilt back and sides, 5s. each:—

SCOTT’S Poetical Works, with Life. COWPER’S Poetical Works, with Life. MILTON’S Poetical Works. POPE’S Poetical Works, with Warburton’s Life. GOLDSMITH’S Poetical Works, with Life by Washington Irving. BYRON’S Poetical Works, Select Family Edition.

SCOTT’S Poetry, with Biography. COWPER’S Poetry, with Biography. MILTON’S Poetry. POPE’S Poetry, with Warburton’s Biography. GOLDSMITH’S Poetry, with Biography by Washington Irving. BYRON’S Poetry, Selected Family Edition.

Religious Books,

Sacred Texts,

Printed in large type, bound in cloth, gilt back and edges, foolscap 8vo. BOGATSKY’S Golden Treasury, 2s. 6d. ELISHA, by Krummacher, with portrait, 2s. 6d. ELIJAH, the Tishbite, by Krummacher, with portrait, 2s. 6d. HAWKER’S Morning Portion, 2s. HAWKER’S Evening Portion, 2s. 6d. HAWKER’S Daily Portion, 4s. 6d. ROWLAND HILL’S Village Dialogues, 3s. 6d. JENK’S PRAYERS and Offices of Devotion, with an Introduction by the Rev. Albert Barnes, 2s. 6d. ROMAINE’S Life, Walk, and Triumph of Faith, with a portrait, 3s. 6d. WATTS on the Improvement of the Mind, with a portrait, 2s. 6d.

Printed in large type, bound in cloth, with gold on the spine and edges, foolscap 8vo. BOGATSKY’S Golden Treasury, £2.50. ELISHA, by Krummacher, with portrait, £2.50. ELIJAH, the Tishbite, by Krummacher, with portrait, £2.50. HAWKER’S Morning Portion, £2.00. HAWKER’S Evening Portion, £2.50. HAWKER’S Daily Portion, £4.50. ROWLAND HILL’S Village Dialogues, £3.50. JENK’S PRAYERS and Offices of Devotion, with an Introduction by the Rev. Albert Barnes, £2.50. ROMAINE’S Life, Walk, and Triumph of Faith, with a portrait, £3.50. WATTS on the Improvement of the Mind, with a portrait, £2.50.

The above Works are also kept bound, at the above prices, in black cloth, red edges, antique style.

The works mentioned above are also available bound in black cloth, with red edges, in an antique style.

Religion at Home,

Home Religion

Being an Explanation of Important Scripture Subjects, with illustrations. Royal 32mo., beautifully bound in colours and gold, new edition, 1s.

Being an Explanation of Important Scripture Subjects, with illustrations. Royal 32mo., beautifully bound in colors and gold, new edition, 1s.


WORKS SPLENDIDLY BOUND IN MOROCCO,

WORKS SPLENDIDLY BOUND IN LEATHER,

ELEGANT AND EXTRA,

Chic and extra,

Suitable for Christmas Presents, Gift Books,

Suitable for Christmas Gifts, Gift Books,

School Prizes, &c.

School Awards, etc.


Longfellow’s Poetical Works,

Longfellow's Poetry Collection,

The Illustrated Library edition, beautifully printed on a very superior paper, and enriched with four highly-finished plates, engraved on steel in the first style of art, 9s.

The Illustrated Library edition, beautifully printed on high-quality paper and enhanced with four finely detailed plates, engraved on steel in top-notch artistic style, 9s.

The SAME EDITION, in antique morocco, 10s. 6d.

The SAME EDITION, in vintage morocco, £10.30.

Poets and Poetry of Great Britain,

Poets and Poetry of Great Britain,

From Chaucer to Tennyson, with Biographical Sketches and an Introductory Essay, &c., 15s.

From Chaucer to Tennyson, including Biographical Sketches and an Introductory Essay, etc., £15.

Family Pictures from the Bible.

Bible Family Photos.

Edited by the Rev. John Cumming, and illustrated with vignette and frontispiece by Measom. Foolscap 8vo., 7s. 6d.

Edited by Rev. John Cumming, illustrated with a vignette and frontispiece by Measom. Foolscap 8vo., £7.50.

Life and Voyages of Columbus.

Life and Travels of Columbus.

By Washington Irving. A new edition, complete in one volume foolscap 8vo., with an illustration, 8s.

By Washington Irving. A new edition, complete in one volume, foolscap 8vo, with an illustration, 8s.

Works bound in Moroccocontinued

Books bound in Moroccocontinued

Lives of Mahomet and his Successors.

Lives of Muhammad and his Successors.

By Washington Irving. A new edition, complete in one volume foolscap 8vo., with an illustration, 8s.

By Washington Irving. A new edition, complete in one volume foolscap 8vo., with an illustration, £8.

The Sketch-book, and Bracebridge Hall;

The Sketchbook and Bracebridge Hall;

Being Pictures of English Country Life. By Washington Irving. A new edition, complete in one volume foolscap 8vo., with an illustration, 8s.

Being Pictures of English Country Life. By Washington Irving. A new edition, complete in one volume foolscap 8vo., with an illustration, 8s.

Robinson Crusoe,

Robinson Crusoe,

With illustrations by the inimitable Phiz, the complete edition, including his further Adventures, with Life of the Author. Fcap. 8vo., 8s. 6d.

With illustrations by the one and only Phiz, the complete edition includes his additional Adventures, along with a Life of the Author. Fcap. 8vo., 8s. 6d.

Oliver Goldsmith,

Oliver Goldsmith,

A Biography; The Tour on the Prairies; Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey. By Washington Irving. A new edition, complete in one volume foolscap 8vo., with an illustration, 8s.

A Biography; The Tour on the Prairies; Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey. By Washington Irving. A new edition, complete in one volume foolscap 8vo., with an illustration, 8s.

Tales of the Alhambra,

Tales of the Alhambra

Don Roderick, and Conquest of Granada. By Washington Irving. A new edition, complete in one volume foolscap 8vo., with an illustration, 8s.

Don Roderick, and Conquest of Granada. By Washington Irving. A new edition, complete in one volume foolscap 8vo., with an illustration, 8s.

Sandford and Merton.

Sandford and Merton.

A new edition, printed in large type on a superfine paper, and illustrated with engravings, executed in the first style of art. Foolscap 8vo, 8s. 6d.

A new edition, printed in large text on high-quality paper and illustrated with engravings done in top-tier artistry. Foolscap 8vo, £8.50.

Pope’s Complete Poetical Works,

Pope's Complete Poems,

Including his Translations. A new edition, edited by the Rev. H.F. Cary. Medium 8vo., uniform with Murray’s Byron, Southey, &c., 18s.

Including his Translations. A new edition, edited by the Rev. H.F. Cary. Medium 8vo., consistent with Murray’s Byron, Southey, &c., 18s.

Shakspear’s Complete Dramatic Works,

Shakespeare’s Complete Dramatic Works,

From the Text of Johnson, Stevens, and Reed, with Life by Rowe. Printed in large type, one volume 8vo., with illustrations, 17s. 6d.

From the Text of Johnson, Stevens, and Reed, with Life by Rowe. Printed in large type, one volume 8vo., with illustrations, £17.30.


UNIFORM EDITIONS OF THE AMERICAN POETS.

UNIFORM EDITIONS OF THE AMERICAN POETS.

Royal 24mo., printed in the best manner on superfine paper (uniform with Moxon’s Pocket Editions).

Royal 24mo., printed in high quality on fine paper (matching Moxon’s Pocket Editions).

LONGFELLOW’S Complete Poetical Works, 5s. WILLIS’S Complete Poetical Works, 5s. BRYANT’S Complete Poetical Works, 5s. SIGOURNEY’S Complete Poetical Works, 5s. WHITTIER’S Complete Poetical Works, 5s.

LONGFELLOW’S Complete Poetical Works, $5. WILLIS’S Complete Poetical Works, $5. BRYANT’S Complete Poetical Works, $5. SIGOURNEY’S Complete Poetical Works, $5. WHITTIER’S Complete Poetical Works, $5.

Works bound in Moroccocontinued.

Books bound in Moroccocontinued.

French Classics.

French Classics.

Anciens Philosophes, par Fénélon, 18mo., 4s.

Anciens Philosophes, by Fénélon, 18mo, £4.

Choix des Pensées de Pascal, par Ventouillac, 4s.

Choix des Pensées de Pascal, by Ventouillac, 4s.

Choix des Contes Moraux, de Marmontel, 4s.

Choix des Contes Moraux, de Marmontel, 4s.

Gonzalve de Cordoue, par Florian, 18mo., 4s. 6d.

Gonzalve de Cordoue by Florian, 18mo., £4.50.

Bélisaire, par Marmontel, 18mo. 4s.

Bélisaire by Marmontel, 18mo. 4s.

Histoire de Pierre le Grand, par Voltaire, 18mo., 4s. 6d.

Histoire de Pierre le Grand, by Voltaire, 18mo., £4.50.

La Chaumière Indienne, par St. Pierre, 4s.

La Chaumière Indienne, by St. Pierre, 4s.

Estelle, par Florian, 4s.

Estelle, by Florian, 4s.

Le Henriade, par Voltaire, 4s.

Le Henriade, by Voltaire, 4s.

Atala, par Chateaubriand, 4s.

Atala by Chateaubriand, 4s.


DALY’S CLASSICAL LIBRARY.

DALY’S CLASSICAL LIBRARY.

Byron’s Poetical Works,

Byron's Poetry Collection,

The Family edition (just published), with numerous engravings, 9s.

The Family edition (just published), featuring many illustrations, £4.50.

Byron’s Poetical Works,

Byron's Poetry,

A new edition, with numerous illustrations, small 8vo., 14s.

A new edition, featuring many illustrations, small 8vo, £14.

Coleridge’s Poetical Works,

Coleridge's Poetry,

A new edition, 12mo., 8s.

A new edition, 12mo, £8.

Cowper’s Poetical Works,

Cowper's Poetry Works,

With portrait and twenty steel plates, from Westall, 12mo., 9s.

With a portrait and twenty steel engravings by Westall, 12mo., 9s.

Don Quixote,

Don Quixote,

With twenty-one steel plates, 12mo., 9s.

With twenty-one steel plates, 12mo., £9.

Gil Bias,

Gil Bias,

Plates from Westall, 12mo., 9s.

Plates from Westall, 12mo., £9.

Goldsmith’s Works,

Goldsmith's Writings,

Including his Poems, Essays, Plays, and Vicar of Wakefleld, with Life by Washington Irving, 12mo., 9s.

Including his Poems, Essays, Plays, and Vicar of Wakefield, with Life by Washington Irving, 12mo., 9s.

Milton’s Poetical Works,

Milton's Poetry Works,

With portrait and twenty plates, from Westall, 12mo., 9s.

With a portrait and twenty plates from Westall, 12mo., £9.

Pope’s Poetical Works,

Pope's Poetry Works,

With portrait, and numerous steel plates, 12mo., 9s.

With a portrait and several steel plates, 12mo, £9.

Scott’s Poetical Works,

Scott's Poetry,

With twenty-two designs, after Westall, 12mo., 9s.

With twenty-two designs, after Westall, 12mo, £9.

Thomson’s Seasons,

Thomson's Seasons,

And Castle of Indolence, with a life of the Author, and Notes by Nicholl, 10s.

And Castle of Indolence, including a biography of the Author and Notes by Nicholl, £10.


STANDARD RELIGIOUS LIBRARY.

RELIGIOUS LIBRARY.

Printed in large type, foolscap 8vo.

Printed in large type, foolscap 8vo.

Bogatsky’s Golden Treasury, 6s.

Bogatsky's Golden Treasury, £6.

Elijah the Tishbite.

Elijah the Tishbite.

Gilt or plain, 6s.

Gold or plain, 6s.

Hawker’s Daily Portion.

Hawker's Daily Serving.

A new edition, printed in large type, 7s. 6d.

A new edition, printed in large type, £7.50.

Newton’s Cardiphonia;

Newton’s Cardiphonia;

Or, the Utterance of the Heart, in the course of a Real Correspondence, with an Introductory Essay, 6s. 6d.

Or, the Expression of the Heart, in the course of a True Correspondence, with an Introductory Essay, £6.50.

Romaine’s life,

Romaine's life,

Walk, and Triumph of Faith. Gilt or plain, 6s. 6d.

Walk, and Triumph of Faith. Gold or plain, 6s. 6d.

Jenk’s Family Devotions.

Jenk's Family Worship.

A new edition, with an Introduction by the Rev. Albert Barnes, 6s. 6d.

A new edition, with an Introduction by Rev. Albert Barnes, £6.60.

The Communicant’s Spiritual Companion.

The Communicant's Spiritual Guide.

By the Rev. T. Haweis, LL.D., for the Lord’s Supper, 32mo., 4s.

By Rev. T. Haweis, LL.D., for Communion, 32mo., £4.

Cowper’s Letters,

Cowper's Letters,

Edited by Dr. Memes, 8vo., with engravings, 10s. 6d.

Edited by Dr. Memes, 8vo, with illustrations, £10.50.

Friendship’s Offering,

Friendship's Gift,

A Christmas and New Year’s Present, illustrated with beautiful engravings (four different sorts), 6s. 6d. each.

A Christmas and New Year’s Present, illustrated with beautiful engravings (four different types), £6.30 each.

Kirk White’s Remains,

Kirk White's Remains,

With a Memoir of the Author, 18mo., 5s.

With a Memoir of the Author, 18mo., £5.

The Polyglot Bible.

The Polyglot Bible.

A new edition, illustrated with coloured maps, and 60,000 references, 7s. 6d.

A new edition, featuring colored maps, and 60,000 references, £7.50

Pope’s Homer’s Iliad.

Pope's The Iliad.

A new edition, with frontispiece and vignette, royal 24mo., 6s.

A new edition with a frontispiece and vignette, royal 24mo, £6.

Pope’s Homer’s Odyssey.

Pope's translation of Homer's Odyssey.

A new edition, with frontispiece and vignette, royal 24mo., 6s.

A new edition, with a frontispiece and vignette, royal 24mo, £6.

British Military Biography,

British Military Profile

From the earliest period to the present time, with frontispiece and vignette, 24mo., 7s.

From the earliest time to now, with a frontispiece and vignette, 24mo., £7.

British Naval Biography,

British Naval Biography,

With frontispiece, 24mo., 7s.

With frontispiece, 24mo., £7.

Burns’s Poetical Works,

Burns's Poetry Collection,

With frontispiece and vignette, 24mo., 6s. 6d.

With frontispiece and illustration, 24mo, £6.50.

Butler’s Analogy of Religion,

Butler’s Analogy of Religion,

With frontispiece and vignette, 24mo., 5s.

With frontispiece and illustration, 24mo., £5.

Dodd’s Beauties of Shakspeare,

Dodd's Beauties of Shakespeare,

With frontispiece and vignette, 24mo., 6s.

With a frontispiece and a vignette, 24mo, £6.

Gulliver’s Travels,

Gulliver's Travels

With frontispiece and vignette, 24mo., 4s. 6d.

With frontispiece and vignette, 24mo., £4.60.

THE POPULAR LIBRARY

THE TRENDY LIBRARY

(UNIFORM WITH THE RAILWAY LIBRARY),

(RAILWAY LIBRARY UNIFORM),

Price One Shilling each,

Price £1 each,

OR, BOUND IN CLOTH, FULL GILT, EIGHTEEN PENCE.

OR, BOUND IN CLOTH, FULL GILT, EIGHTEEN PENCE.


Under the above title it is proposed to publish, at short intervals, a Series of interesting works on Biography, History, Travels, &c., in which they lay a claim to the whole meaning of their title—to the very fullest extent and influence of that large and potent word, POPULARITY!

Under the above title, we plan to publish a series of engaging works on Biography, History, Travel, etc., in which we fully embrace the meaning of our title—to the greatest extent and impact of that powerful word, POPULARITY!


THE FOLLOWING ABE NOW READY:—

THE FOLLOWING ABE IS NOW READY:—

MONK AND WASHINGTON. By F. Guizot.

MONK AND WASHINGTON. By F. Guizot.

HISTORY OF AMERICA, Vol. I. By Bancroft.

HISTORY OF AMERICA, Vol. I. by Bancroft.

LETTERS FROM PALMYRA. By Ware.

LETTERS FROM PALMYRA. By Ware.

WESTERN CLEARINGS. By Mrs. Kirkland.

WESTERN CLEARINGS. By Mrs. Kirkland.

LIFE OF SIR ROBERT PEEL. With portrait by Harvey.

LIFE OF SIR ROBERT PEEL. With a portrait by Harvey.

THE BERBER. By Dr. Mayo.

THE BERBER. By Dr. Mayo.

KALOOLAH; an Autobiography. By Dr. Mayo.

KALOOLAH: An Autobiography by Dr. Mayo.

ELDORADO; or, The Gold Regions. Two Vols. By Bayard Taylor.

ELDORADO; or, The Gold Regions. Two Vols. By Bayard Taylor.

TYPEE; a Residence in the Marquesas. By Herman Melville.

TYPEE; a Residence in the Marquesas. By Herman Melville.

OMOO; or, Adventures in the South Seas. By Herman Melville.

OMOO; or, Adventures in the South Seas. By Herman Melville.

REPRESENTATIVE MEN. By R.W. Emerson.

REPRESENTATIVE MEN. By R.W. Emerson.

and

and

Washington Irving’s Complete Works,

Complete Works of Washington Irving,

consisting of

made up of

LIFE AND VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. Two Vols. By Washington Irving.

LIFE AND VOYAGES OF COLUMBUS. Two Volumes. By Washington Irving.

CONQUEST OF GRANADA. By Washington Irving.

CONQUEST OF GRANADA. By Washington Irving.

TALES OF A TRAVELLER. By Washington Irving.

TALES OF A TRAVELLER. By Washington Irving.

TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, Abbotsford, and Newstead Abbey. By Washington Irving.

TOUR ON THE PRAIRIES, Abbotsford, and Newstead Abbey. By Washington Irving.

THE SKETCH-BOOK. By Washington Irving.

THE SKETCHBOOK. By Washington Irving.

KNICKERBOCKER’S History of New York. By Washington Irving.

KNICKERBOCKER’S History of New York. By Washington Irving.

BONNEVILLE’S (Capt.) ADVENTURES. By Washington Irving.

BONNEVILLE’S (Capt.) ADVENTURES. By Washington Irving.

TALES OF THE ALHAMBRA, and Legends of Spain. By Washington Irving.

TALES OF THE ALHAMBRA, and Legends of Spain. By Washington Irving.

ASTORIA. By Washington Irving.

ASTORIA. By Washington Irving.

COMPANIONS OF COLUMBUS. By Washington Irving.

COMPANIONS OF COLUMBUS. By Washington Irving.

OLIVER GOLDSMITH; an Autobiography. By Washington Irving.

OLIVER GOLDSMITH; an Autobiography. By Washington Irving.

LIFE OF MAHOMET. By Washington Irving.

LIFE OF MAHOMET. By Washington Irving.

BRACEBRIDGE HALL. By Washington Irving.

BRACEBRIDGE HALL. By Washington Irving.

LIVES OF SUCCESSORS OF MAHOMET. By Washington Irving.

LIVES OF SUCCESSORS OF MAHOMET. By Washington Irving.

SALMAGUNDI. By Washington Irving.

Salmagundi. by Washington Irving.


Also, the above Works, bound in Eight Volumes, cloth lettered,

Also, the above works, bound in eight volumes, cloth lettered,

forming the

forming the

Complete Edition of Washington Irving’s Works,20s.

Complete Edition of Washington Irving’s Works, $20.

PRINTED BY COX (BROTHERS) AND WYMAN, GREAT QUEEN STREET.

PRINTED BY COX (BROTHERS) AND WYMAN, GREAT QUEEN STREET.


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