The Swiss Family Robinson

We were busily at work, when a tremendous disturbance among our fowls led us to suppose that a fox or wild cat had got into their midst.

The cocks crowed defiantly, the hens fluttered and cackled in a state of the wildest excitement. We hastened towards them, but Ernest remarking Master Knips slipping away, as though conscious of some misdemeanour, went to watch him, and presently caught him in the act of eating a new-laid egg, which he had carried off and hidden among the grass and roots. Ernest found several others. These were very welcome to my wife, for hitherto the hens had not presented us with any eggs. Hereafter she determined to imprison the monkey every morning until the eggs had been collected.

Soon after this, as Jack was setting the newly made snares among the branches, he discovered that a pair of our own pigeons were building in the tree. It was very desirable to increase our stock of these pretty birds, and I cautioned the boys against shooting near our tree while they had nests there, and also with regard to the snares, which were meant only to entrap the wild-fig-eaters.

Although my sons were interested in setting the snares, they by no means approved of the new order to economize on ammunition. No doubt they had been discussing this hardship, for little Franz came to me with a brilliant proposal of his own.

‘Papa,’ said he, ‘why should not we begin to plant some powder and shot immediately? It would be so much more useful than bare grain for the fowls.’

His brothers burst into a roar of laughter, and I must confess I found it no easy matter to keep my countenance.

‘Come, Ernest,’ said I, ‘now we have had our amusement, tell the little fellow what gunpowder really is.’

‘It is not seed at all, Franz,’ Ernest explained. ‘Gunpowder is made of charcoal, sulphur and saltpetre, mixed cleverly together; so you see it cannot be sown like corn, any more than shot can be planted like peas and beans.’

My carpenting meantime went on apace. In order to shape my sledge with ends properly turned up in front, I had chosen wood which had been part of the bow of the vessel, and was curved in the necessary way for my purpose. Two pieces, perfectly similar, formed the sides of my sleigh, or sledge, and I simply united these strongly by fixing short bars across them. Then, when the ropes of the donkey’s harness were attached to the raised points in front, the equipage was complete and ready for use.

Early in the afternoon Ernest and I were ready to be off. Fritz presented us each with a neat case of margay skin to hang at our girdles.

We harnessed both cow and ass to the sledge and, accompanied by Juno, cheerfully took our departure, choosing the way by the sands, and reaching Tentholm without accident or adventure.

There, unharnessing the animals, we began at once to load the sledge, not only with the butter-cask, but with a powder-chest, a barrel of cheese, and a variety of other articles – ball, shot, tools and Turk’s armour, which had been left behind on our last visit.

Our work had so closely engaged our attention, that when we were ready to leave it and go in search of a good bathing-place, we discovered that our two animals had wandered quite out of sight, having crossed the bridge to reach the good pasture beyond the river.

I sent Ernest after them, and went alone to the extremity of the bay. It terminated in bold and precipitous cliffs, which extended into the deep water, and rose abruptly so as to form an inaccessible wall of rock and crag. Swampy ground, overgrown with large canes, intervened between me and these cliffs. I cut a large bundle of the reeds, and returned to Ernest. It was some time before I found him, comfortably extended full length on the ground near the tent, and sleeping as sound as a top, while the cow and the ass, grazing at will, were again making for the bridge.

‘Get up, Ernest, you lazy fellow!’ exclaimed I, much annoyed. ‘Why don’t you mind your business? Look at the animals! They will be over the river again!’

‘No fear of that, father,’ returned he, with the utmost composure. ‘I have taken a couple of boards off the bridge. They won’t pass the gap.’

I could not help laughing at the ingenious device by which the boy had spared himself all trouble; at the same time I observed that it is wrong to waste the precious moments in sleep when duty has to be performed. I then bid him go and collect some salt, which was wanted at home, while I went to bathe.

On coming back, much refreshed, I again missed Ernest, and began to wonder whether he was still gathering salt, or whether he had lain down somewhere to finish his nap, when I heard him loudly calling, ‘Father, father! I’ve caught a fish! An immense fellow he is. I can scarcely hold him, he drags the line so!’

Hastening towards the spot, I saw the boy lying in the grass, on a point of land close to the mouth of the stream, and with all his might keeping hold of a rod. The line was strained to the utmost by the frantic efforts of a very large fish, which was attempting to free itself from the hook.

I quickly took the rod from him, and giving the fish more line, led him by degrees into shallow water. Ernest ran in with his hatchet and killed him.

It proved to be a salmon of full fifteen pounds weight, and I was delighted to think of taking such a valuable prize to them.

‘This is capital, Ernest!’ cried I. ‘You have cleared yourself for once of the charge of laziness! Let us now carry this splendid salmon to the sledge. I will clean and pack it for the journey, that it may arrive in good condition, while you go and take a bath in the sea.’

All this being accomplished, we harnessed our beasts to the well-laden vehicle, and replacing the boards on the bridge, commenced the journey home.

We kept inland this time, and were skirting the borders of a grassy thicket, when Juno suddenly left us, and plunging into the bushes, with fierce barking hunted out, right in front of us, the most singular-looking creature I ever beheld. It was taking wonderful flying leaps, apparently in a sitting posture, and got over the ground at an astonishing rate. I attempted to shoot it as it passed, but missed. Ernest, who was behind me, observed its movements very coolly, and seeing that the dog was puzzled, and that the animal, having paused, was crouching among the grass, went cautiously nearer, fired at the spot he had marked, and shot it dead.

The extraordinary appearance of this creature surprised us very much. It was as large as a sheep, its head was shaped like that of a mouse; its skin also was of a mouse-colour, it had long ears like a hare, and a tail like a tiger’s. The fore-paws resembled those of a squirrel, but they seemed only half-grown while the hind legs were enormous, and so long, that when upright on them the animal would look as if mounted on stilts.

For some time we stood silently wondering at the remarkable creature before us. I could not recollect to have seen or heard of any such.

‘Well, father,’ said Ernest at last, ‘I should say this was about the queerest beast to be met with anywhere. I am glad I knocked it over. How they will all stare when I carry it home!’

‘You have had a lucky day altogether, certainly,’ said I, ‘but I cannot think what this animal can be. Examine its teeth, and let us see to what class of mammalia it belongs. We may be led to guess at its name in that way.’

‘I see four sharp incisor teeth, father – two upper, and two under, as a squirrel has.’

‘Ah! Then he is a rodent. What rodents can you remember, Ernest?’

‘I do not know them all, but there are the mouse, the marmot, the squirrel, the hare, the beaver, the jerboa –’

‘The jerboa!’ I exclaimed, ‘The jerboa! Now we shall have it. This is really very like a jerboa, only far larger. It must be a kangaroo, one of the class of animals which has a pouch or purse beneath the body, in which its young can take refuge. They were discovered in New Holland, by the great Captain Cook, and I congratulate you on being the first to obtain a specimen in New Switzerland!’ I added, laughing, as I extemporized the name.

The kangaroo was added to the already heavy load on our sledge, and we proceeded slowly, arriving late at Falconhurst, but meeting with the usual bright welcome.

Very eager and inquisitive were the glances turned towards the sledge, for the load piled on it surpassed all expectation: we on our part staring in equal surprise at the extraordinary rig of the young folks who came to meet us.

One wore a long night-shirt, which, with a belt, was a convenient length in front, but trailed behind in orthodox ghost fashion.

Another had on a very wide pair of trousers, braced up so short that each little leg looked like the clapper in a bell.

The third, buttoned up in a pea-jacket which came down to his ankles, looked for all the world like a walking portmanteau.

Amid much joking and laughter, my wife explained that she had been washing all day, and while their clothes were drying, the boys amused themselves by dressing up in things they found while rummaging through the sailor’s chest, and had kept them on, that Ernest and I might see the masquerade. It certainly amused us, but made me regret that so little belonging to ourselves had been saved from the wreck, in consequence of which the children had scarcely a change of linen.

Turning now to our new acquisitions, we excited great interest by exhibiting each in turn; the large salmon, but more especially the kangaroo, surprised and delighted everyone.

Fritz alone wore a look expressive of dissatisfaction, and I saw that he was envious of his younger brother’s success. Vexed that so noble a prize had fallen to Ernest’s gun, instead of his own, he treated it rather slightingly; but I could see that he was struggling against his jealous feelings, and he, after a while, succeeded in recovering his good humour, and joined pleasantly in the conversation.

‘What a famous day’s sport you have had altogether!’ said he, coming close up to me. ‘It will be my turn to go out with you next, will it not, father? Just about here there is nothing to shoot, and I have found it very dull.’

‘Still you have been doing your duty, my dear boy; you were entrusted with the care of the family, and a youth of manly character will not depend for happiness on mere excitement.’

As the shades of night approached, we made haste to conclude the day’s work, by preparing the kangaroo, part for immediate use, and part for salting. The animals were fed, and a plentiful allowance of salt made to them. Our own supper of broiled salmon and potatoes was dispatched with great appetite, and we retired, with thankful hearts, to sound and well-earned repose.

‘Horst’, in German, means ‘nest’ or ‘eyrie’.

CHAPTER 5 (#ulink_1c6ee2ca-7a91-58c0-9f45-2f0e7ae0f90c)

Next morning, while the breakfast was getting ready, I attended to the beautiful skin of the kangaroo, which I was anxious to preserve entire; and afterwards, when Fritz had prepared everything in readiness for our trip to the wreck, I called Ernest and Jack in order to give them some parting injunctions. They, however, had disappeared directly after breakfast, and their mother could only guess that, as we required potatoes, they might have gone to fetch a supply. I desired her to reprove them, on their return, for starting away without leave; but, as it appeared they had taken Turk, I satisfied myself that no harm was likely to befall them, although it was not without reluctance that I left my dear wife alone with little Franz, cheering her with hopes of our speedy return with new treasures from the wreck.

Advancing steadily on our way, we crossed the bridge at Jackal River, when suddenly, to our no small astonishment, Jack and Ernest burst out of a hiding-place where they had lain in wait for us, and were enchanted with the startling effect of their unexpected appearance upon their unsuspecting father and brother. It was evident that they fully believed they might now go with us to the wreck.

To this notion I at once put a decided stop, although I could not find it in my heart to scold the two merry rogues for their thoughtless frolic, more especially as I particularly wished to send back a message to my wife. I told them they must hurry home, so as not to leave their mother in suspense, although, as they were already so far, they might collect some salt. And I instructed them to explain that, as my work on board would take up a long time, she must try to bear with our absence for a night. This I had meant to say when we parted, but my courage had failed, knowing how much she would object to such a plan, and I had resolved to return in the evening.

On consideration, however, of the importance of constructing a raft, which was my intention in going, and finishing it without a second trip, I determined to remain on board for the night, as the boys had, unintentionally, given me the chance of sending a message to that effect.

‘Goodbye, boys, take care of yourselves! We’re off,’ shouted Fritz, as I joined him in the tub-boat, and we shoved off.