Swiss Family Robinson by Johann David Wyss (microsoft ebook reader TXT) 📖

to Falconhurst to bear the great and

astonishing news to his mother.

 

Great must have been the effect of Jack’s eloquence on those at home,

for the timbers of the bridge were soon again resounding under the

swift but heavy tramp of his steed; and he was quickly followed by the

rest of our party in the cart.

 

All were in the highest state of excitement. Jack had stowed in the

cart all the candles he could find, and we now, lighting these,

shouldered our arms and entered. I led the way, sounding the ground as

I advanced with a long pole, that we might not fall unexpectedly into

any great hole or chasm.

 

Silently we marched—my wife, the boys, and even the dogs seeming

overawed with the grandeur and beauty of the scene We were in a grotto

of diamonds—a vast cave of glittering crystal; the candles reflected

on the walls a golden light, bright as the stars of Heaven, while great

crystal pillars rose from the floor like mighty trees, mingling their

branches high above us and drooping in hundreds of stalactites, which

sparkled and glittered with all the colours of the rainbow.

 

The floor of this magnificent palace was formed of hard, dry sand, so

dry that I saw at once that we might safely take up our abode therein,

without the slightest fear of danger from damp.

 

From the appearance of the brilliant crystals round about us, I

suspected their nature. I tasted a piece. This was a cavern of

rock-salt. There was no doubt about it—here was an unlimited supply of

the best and purest salt!

 

But one thing detracted from my entire satisfaction and delight—large

crystals lay scattered here and there, which, detached from the roof,

had fallen to the ground; this, if apt to recur, would keep us in

constant peril. I examined some of the masses and discovered that they

had been all recently separated, and therefore concluded that the

concussion of the air, occasioned by the rockets, had caused their

fall. To satisfy ourselves, however, that there were no more pieces

tottering above us, we discharged our guns from the entrance, and

watched the effect.

 

Nothing more fell—our magnificent abode was safe. We returned to

Falconhurst with minds full of wonder at our new discovery, and plans

for turning it to the best possible advantage.

 

Nothing was now talked of but the new house, how it should be

arranged, how it should be fitted up. The safety and comfort of

Falconhurst, which had at first seemed so great, now dwindled away in

our opinion to nothing; it should be kept up we decided merely as a

summer residence, while our cave should be formed into a winter house

and impregnable castle.

 

Our attention was now fully occupied with this new house. Light and air

were to be admitted, so we hewed a row of windows in the rock, where we

fitted the window-cases we had brought from the officers’ cabins.

 

We brought the door, too, from Falconhurst, and fitted it in the

aperture we had made. The opening in the trunk of the tree I

determined to conceal with bark, as less likely to attract the notice

of wild beasts or savages should they approach during our absence.

 

The cave itself we divided into four parts: in front, a large

compartment into which the door opened, subdivided into our sitting,

eating and sleeping apartments; the right-hand division, containing our

kitchen and workshop, and the left our stables; behind all this, in the

dark recess of the cave, was our storehouse and powder-magazine.

 

Having already undergone one rainy reason, we knew well its

discomforts, and thought of many useful arrangements in the laying-out

of our dwelling. We did not intend to be again smoke-dried; we,

therefore, contrived a properly built fireplace and chimney; our stable

arrangements, too, were better, and plenty of space was left in our

workshop that we should not be hampered in even the most extensive

operations.

 

Our frequent residence at Tentholm revealed to us several important

advantages which we had not foreseen. Numbers of splendid turtles often

came ashore to deposit their eggs in the sand, and their delicious

flesh afforded us many a sumptuous meal. When more than one of these

creatures appeared at a time, we used to cut off their retreat to the

sea, and, turning them on their backs, fasten them to a stake, driven

in close by the water’s edge, by a cord passed through a hole in their

shell. We thus had fresh turtle continually within our reach; for the

animals throve well thus secured, and appeared in as good condition,

after having been kept thus for several weeks, as others when freshly

caught. Lobsters, crabs and mussels also abounded on the shore. But

this was not all; an additional surprise awaited us.

 

As we were one morning approaching Tentholm, we were attracted by a

most curious phenomenon. The waters out to sea appeared agitated by

some unseen movement, and as they heaved and boiled, their surface,

struck by the beams of the morning sun, seemed illuminated by flashes

of fire.

 

Over the water where this disturbance was taking place hovered

hundreds of birds, screaming loudly, which ever and anon would dart

downwards, some plunging beneath the water, some skimming the surface.

Then again they would rise and resume their harsh cries. The shining,

sparkling mass then rolled onwards, and approached in a direct line our

bay, followed by the feathered flock above. We hurried down to the

shore to further examine this strange sight.

 

I was convinced as we approached that it was a shoal or bank of

herrings.

 

No sooner did I give utterance to my conjecture, than I was assailed by

a host of questions concerning this herring-bank, what it was, and what

occasioned it.

 

`A herring-bank,’ I said, `is composed of an immense number of

herrings swimming together. I can scarcely express to you the huge size

of this living bank, which extends over a great area many fathoms deep.

It is followed by numbers of great ravenous fish, who devour quantities

of the herrings, while above hover birds, as you have just seen, ready

to pounce down on stragglers near the top. To escape these enemies, the

shoal makes for the nearest shore, and seeks safety in those shallows

where the large fish cannot follow. But here it meets with a third

great enemy.

 

`It may escape from the fish, and elude the vigilance of sharp-sighted

birds, but from the ingenuity of man it can find no escape. In one year

millions of these fish are caught, and yet the roes of only a small

number would be sufficient to supply as many fish again.’

 

Soon our fishery was in operation. Jack and Fritz stood in the water

with baskets, and baled out the fish, as one bales water with a bucket,

throwing them to us on the shore. As quickly as possible we cleaned

them, and placed them in casks with salt, first a layer of salt, and

then a layer of herrings, and so on, until we had ready many casks of

pickled fish.

 

As the barrels were filled, we closed them carefully, and rolled them

away to the cool vaults at the back of our cave. Our good fortune,

however, was not to end here. A day after the herring fishery was over,

and the shoal had left our bay, a great number of seals appeared,

attracted by the refuse of the herrings which we had thrown into the

sea.

 

Though I feared they would not be suitable for our table, we yet

secured a score or two for the sake of their skins and fat. The skins

we drew carefully off for harness and clothing, and the fat we boiled

down for oil, which we put aside in casks for tanning, soap-making, and

burning in lamps.

 

These occupations interfered for some time with our work at Rock

House; but as soon as possible we again returned to our labour with

renewed vigour. I had noticed that the salt crystals had for their base

a species of gypsum, which I knew might be made of great service to us

in our building operations as plaster.

 

As an experiment, I broke off some pieces, and, after subjecting them

to great heat, reduced them to powder. The plaster this formed with

water was smooth and white, and as I had then no particular use to

which I might put it, I plastered over some of the herring casks, that

I might be perfectly certain that all air was excluded. The remainder

of the casks I left as they were, for I presently intended to preserve

their contents by smoking.

 

To do this, the boys and I built a small hut of reeds and branches, and

then we strung our herrings on lines across the roof. On the floor we

lit a great fire of brushwood and moss, which threw out a dense smoke,

curling in volumes round the fish, and they in a few days seemed

perfectly cured.

 

About a month after the appearance of the herrings we were favoured by

a visit from other shoals of fish. Jack espied them first, and called

to us that a lot of young whales were off the coast. We ran down and

discovered the bay apparently swarming with great sturgeon, salmon, and

trout, all making for the mouth of Jackal River, that they might ascend

it and deposit their spawn amongst the stones.

 

Jack was delighted at his discovery. `Here are proper fish!’ he

exclaimed, `none of your paltry fry. How do you preserve these sorts of

fish? Potted, salted or smoked?’

 

`Not so fast,’ said I, `not so fast; tell me how they are to be

caught, and I will tell you how they are to be cooked.’

 

`Oh! I’ll catch them fast enough,’ he replied, and darted off to Rock

House.

 

While I was still puzzling my brains as to how I should set to work, he

returned with his fishing apparatus in hand: a bow and arrow, and a

ball of twine.

 

At the arrow-head he had fastened a barbed spike, and had secured the

arrow to the end of the string. Armed with this weapon, he advanced to

the river’s edge.

 

His arrow flew from the bow, and, to my surprise, struck one of the

largest fish in the side.

 

`Help, father, help!’ he cried, as the great fish darted off, carrying

arrow and all with it. `Help! Or he will pull me into the water.’

 

I ran to his assistance, and together we struggled with the finny

monster. He pulled tremendously, and lashed the water around him; but

we held the cord fast, and he had no chance of escape. Weaker and

weaker grew his struggles, and, at length, exhausted by his exertions

and loss of blood, he allowed us to draw him ashore.

 

He was a noble prize, and Fritz and Ernest, who came up just as we

completed his capture, were quite envious of Jack’s success.

 

Not to be behindhand, they eagerly rushed off for weapons themselves.

We were soon all in the water, Fritz with a harpoon, Ernest with a rod

and line, and I myself, armed like Neptune, with an iron trident, or

more properly speaking, perhaps, a pitchfork. Soon the shore was strewn

with a goodly number of the finest fish—monster after monster we drew

to land. At length Fritz, after harpooning a great sturgeon full eight

feet long, could not get the beast ashore; we all went to his

assistance, but our united efforts were unavailing.

 

`The buffalo!’ proposed my wife, and off went Jack for Storm. Storm was

harnessed