The Swiss Family Robinson. Johann Wyss
there is no church, no clergyman and no organ,’ said Franz.
‘The leafy shade of this great tree is far more beautiful than any church,’ I said, ‘there will we worship our Creator.’
Having breakfasted, the family assembled round me, as we sat in the pleasant shade on the fresh, soft grass. After singing some hymns and offering heartfelt prayers to the Almighty Giver of all good, I related a parable instead of preaching a sermon, and then, leaving allegory, pressed simply and earnestly home to each young heart the truths I sought to teach; and, with a short prayer for a blessing on my words, brought the service to a close.
After a thoughtful pause, we separated, and each employed himself as he felt disposed.
I took some arrows, and endeavoured to point them with porcupine quills.
Franz came to beg me make a little bow and arrow for him to shoot with, while Fritz asked my advice about the tiger-cat skin and the cases he was to contrive from it. Jack assisted with the arrow-making, and inserting a sharp spine at one end of each reed made it fast with pack-thread, and began to wish for glue to ensure its remaining firm.
‘Oh, Jack! Mamma’s soup is as sticky as anything!’ cried Franz. ‘Shall I run and ask for a cake of it?’
‘No, no, little goose! Better look for some real glue in the tool-box.’
‘There he will find glue, to be sure,’ said I, ‘and the soup would scarcely have answered your purpose. But, Jack, my boy, I do not like to hear you ridicule your little brother’s idea. Some of the most valuable discoveries have been the result of thoughts which originally appeared no wiser than his.’
While thus directing and assisting my sons, we were surprised by hearing a shot just over heads; at the same moment two small birds fell dead at our feet, and looking up, we beheld Ernest among the branches, as bending his face joyfully towards us, he cried, ‘Well hit! Well hit! A good shot, wasn’t it?’
Then slipping down the ladder, and picking up the birds, he brought them to me. One was a kind of thrush, the other a small dove called the ortolan, and esteemed a very great delicacy on account of its exquisite flavour. As the figs on which these birds came to feed were only just beginning to ripen, it was probable that they would soon flock in numbers to our trees; and by waiting until we could procure them in large quantities, we might provide ourselves with valuable food for the rainy season, by placing them, when half cooked, in cases with melted lard or butter poured over them.
By this time Jack had pointed a good supply of arrows, and industriously practised archery. I finished the bow and arrows for Franz, and expected to be left in peace; but the young man next demanded a quiver, and I had to invent that also, to complete his equipment. It was easily done by stripping a piece of bark from a small tree, fitting a flat side and a bottom to it, and then a string. Attaching it to his shoulders, the youthful hunter filled it with arrows and went off; looking, as his mother said, like an innocent little Cupid, bent on conquest.
Not long after this, we were summoned to dinner, and all right willingly obeyed the call.
During the meal I interested the boys very much by proposing to decide on suitable names for the different spots we had visited on this coast.
‘For,’ said I, ‘it will become more and more troublesome to explain what we mean, unless we do so. Besides which, we shall feel much more at home if we can talk as people do in inhabited countries: instead of saying, for instance, “the little island at the mouth of our bay, where we found the dead shark”, “the large stream near our tent, across which we made the bridge”, “that wood where we found coconuts, and caught the monkey”, and so on. Let us begin by naming the bay in which we landed. What shall we call it?”
‘Oyster Bay,’ said Fritz.
‘No, no! – Lobster Bay,’ cried Jack, ‘in memory of the old fellow who took a fancy to my leg!’
‘I think,’ observed his mother, ‘that, in token of gratitude for our escape, we should call it Safety Bay.’
This name met with general approbation, and was forthwith fixed upon.
Other names were quickly chosen. Our first place of abode we called Tentholm; the islet in the bay, Shark’s Island; and the reedy swamp, Flamingo Marsh. It was some time before the serious question of a name for our leafy castle could be decided. But finally it was entitled Falconhurst;* and we then rapidly named the few remaining points: Prospect Hill, the eminence we first ascended; Cape Disappointment, from whose rocky heights we had strained our eyes in vain search for our ship’s company; and Jackal River, as a name for the large stream at our landing place, concluded our geographical nomenclature.
In the afternoon the boys went on with their various employments. Fritz finished his cases, and Jack asked my assistance in carrying out his plan of making a cuirass for Turk, out of the porcupine skin. After thoroughly cleansing the inside, we cut and fitted it round the body of the patient dog; then when strings were sewn on, and it became tolerably dry, he was armed with this ingenious coat of mail, and a most singular figure he cut!
Juno strongly objected to his friendly approaches, and got out of his way so fast as she could; and it was clear that he would easily put to flight the fiercest animal he might encounter, while protected by armour at once defensive and offensive.
I determined to make also a helmet for Jack out of the remainder of the skin, which to his infinite delight I speedily did.
Amid these interesting occupations the evening drew on, and after a pleasant walk among the sweet glades near our abode, we closed our Sabbath day with prayer and a glad hymn of praise, retiring to rest with peaceful hearts.
Next morning, I proposed an expedition to Tentholm, saying I wished to make my way thither by a different route. We left the tree well armed; I and my three elder sons each carrying a gun and game-bag, while little Franz was equipped with his bow and quiver full of arrows. A most curious party we formed: Fritz adorned with his belt of margay skin, and Jack, with his extraordinary headdress, looked like a couple of young savages. Their mother and I walked together; she, of the whole party, being the only one unarmed, carried a jar in which to get butter from Tentholm; we were preceded by the dogs – Turk armed most effectually with his cuirass of porcupine skin, and Juno keeping at a respectful distance from so formidable a companion. Master Knips fully intended to mount his charger as usual; but when he saw him arrayed apparently in a new skin, he approached him carefully, and touching him with one paw, discovered that such a hide would make anything but an agreeable seat; the grimace he made was most comical, and chattering vociferously he bounded towards Juno, skipped on her back, seated himself, and soon appeared perfectly reconciled to the change of steed. The flamingo saw us starting, and, having been much petted during the last day or two, considered himself entitled to accompany us; for some time he kept beside the children, following first one and then another as they explored the wood on either side; their irregular course, however, at length disgusted him, and, abandoning them, he walked sedately by my side. We strolled on in the cool evening air, following the course of the stream. The boys roamed ahead of me, intent on exploration. Presently I heard a joyful shout, and saw Ernest running at full speed towards me, followed by his brothers. In his hand he held a plant, and, panting for breath, and with sparkling eyes, he held it up to me.
‘Potatoes! Potatoes, father,’ he gasped out.
‘Yes,’ said Jack, ‘acres and acres of potatoes!’
‘My dear Ernest,’ said I, for there was no mistaking the flower and leaf, and the light clear-green bulbous roots, ‘you have indeed made a discovery; with the potato we shall never starve.’
‘But come and look at them,’ said Jack, ‘come and feast your eyes on thousands of potatoes.’
We hurried to the spot: there, spread out before us, was a great tract of ground, covered with the precious plant.
‘It would have been rather difficult,’ remarked Jack, ‘not to have discovered such a great field.’
‘Very