Swiss Family Robinson by Johann David Wyss (microsoft ebook reader TXT) 📖
- Author: Johann David Wyss
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on the sand. We at length, when we had captured as many fish as we
could possibly utilize, set about cleaning and preparing their flesh.
Some we salted, some we dried like the herrings, some we treated like
the tunny of the Mediterranean—we prepared them in oil.
Of the roe of the sturgeon I decided to form caviare, the great
Russian dish. I removed from it all the membranes by which it is
surrounded, washed it in vinegar, salted it, pressed out all the
moisture caused by the water-absorbing properties of the salt, packed
it in small barrels and stowed it away in our storehouse.
I knew that of the sturgeon’s bladder the best isinglass is made, so
carefully collecting the air-bladders from all those we had killed, I
washed them and hung them up to stiffen. The outer coat or membrane I
then peeled off, cutting the remainder into strips, technically called
staples.
These staples I place in an iron pot over the fire, and when they had
been reduced to a proper consistency I strained off the glue through a
clean cloth, and spread it out on a slab of stone in thin layers,
letting them remain until they were dry. The substance I thus obtained
was beautifully transparent, and promised to serve as an excellent
substitute for glass in our window-frames.
Fortunately, in this beautiful climate little or no attention was
necessary to the kitchen garden, the seeds sprang up and flourished
without apparently the slightest regard for the time or season of the
year. Peas, beans, wheat, barley, rye and Indian corn, seemed
constantly ripe, while cucumbers, melons, and all sorts of other
vegetables grew luxuriantly. The success of our garden at Tentholm
encouraged me to hope that my experiment at Falconhurst had not failed,
and one morning we started to visit the spot.
As we passed by the field from which the potatoes had been dug, we
found it covered with barley, wheat, rye and peas in profusion. I
turned to my wife in amazement. `Where has this fine crop sprung from?’
said I.
`From the earth,’ she replied, laughing, `where Franz and I sowed the
seed I brought from the wreck. The ground was ready tilled by you and
the boys; all we had to do was to scatter the seed.’
I was delighted at the sight, and it augured well, I thought, for the
success of my maize plantation. We hurried to the field. The crop had
indeed grown well, and what was more, appeared to be duly appreciated.
A tremendous flock of feathered thieves rose as we approached. Amongst
them Fritz espied a few ruffed grouse, and, quick as thought, unhooding
his eagle, he started him off in chase, then sprang on his onager and
followed at full gallop. His noble bird marked out the finest grouse,
and, soaring high above it, stooped and bore his prey to the ground.
Fritz was close at hand, and springing through the bushes he saved the
bird from death, hooded the eagle’s eyes, and returned triumphantly.
Jack had not stood idle, for slipping his pet Fangs, he had started him
among some quails who remained upon the field, and to my surprise the
jackal secured some dozen of the birds, bringing them faithfully to his
master’s feet.
We then turned our steps towards Falconhurst, where we were refreshed
by a most delicious drink my wife prepared for us; the stems of the
young Indian corn crushed, strained, and mixed with water and the juice
of the sugarcane.
We then made preparations for an excursion the following day, for I
wished to establish a sort of semicivilized farm at some distance from
Falconhurst, where we might place some of our animals which had become
too numerous with our limited means to supply them with food. In the
large cart, to which we harnessed the buffalo, cow, and ass, we placed
a dozen fowls, four young pigs, two couple of sheep, and as many goats,
and a pair of hens and one cock grouse. Fritz led the way on his
onager, and by a new track we forced a passage through the woods and
tall grasses towards Cape Disappointment.
The difficult march was at length over, and we emerged from the forest
upon a large plain covered with curious little bushes; the branches of
these little shrubs and the ground about them were covered with pure
white flakes.
`Snow! Snow!’ exclaimed Franz. `Oh, mother, come down from the cart and
play snowballs. This is jolly; much better than the ugly rain.’
I was not surprised at the boy’s mistake, for indeed the flakes did
look like snow; but before I could express my opinion, Fritz declared
that the plant must be a kind of dwarf cotton-tree. We approached
nearer and found he was right—soft fine wool enclosed in pods, and
still hanging on the bushes or lying on the ground, abounded in every
direction. We had indeed discovered this valuable plant. My wife was
charmed; and gathering a great quantity in three capacious bags, we
resumed our journey.
Crossing the cotton-field, we ascended a pretty wooded hill. The view
from the summit was glorious: luxuriant grass at our feet stretching
down the hillside, dotted here and there with shady trees, among which
gushed down a sparkling brook, while below lay the rich green forest,
with the sea beyond.
What better situation could we hope to find for our new farm? Pasture,
water, shade and shelter, all were here.
We pitched our tent, built our fireplace, and, leaving my wife to
prepare our repast, Fritz and I selected a spot for the erection of our
shed. We soon found a group of trees so situated that the trunks would
serve as posts for our intended building. Thither we carried all our
tools, and then, as the day was far advanced, enjoyed our supper, and
lay down upon most comfortable beds which my wife had prepared for us
with the cotton.
The group of trees we had selected was exactly suited to our purpose,
for it formed a regular rectilinear figure, the greatest side of which
faced the sea. I cut deep mortices in the trunks about ten feet from
the ground, and again ten feet higher up to form a second storey. In
these mortices I inserted beams, thus forming a framework for my
building, and then, making a roof of laths, I overlaid it with bark,
which I stripped from a neighbouring tree, and fixed with acacia
thorns, and which would effectually shoot off any amount of rain.
While clearing up the scraps of bark and other rubbish for fuel for our
fire, I noticed a peculiar smell, and stooping down I picked up pieces
of the bark, some of which, to my great surprise, I found was that of
the terebinth tree, and the rest that of the American fir. The goats,
too, made an important discovery amongst the same heap, for we found
them busily routing out pieces of cinnamon, a most delicious and
aromatic spice.
`From the fir,’ said I to the boys, `we get turpentine and tar, and
thus it is that the fir tree becomes such a valuable article of
commerce. So we may look forward to preparing pitch for our yacht with
tar and oil, you know, and cart-grease, too, with tar and fat. I do not
know that you will equally appreciate the terebinth tree; a gum issues
from incisions in the bark which hardens in the sun, and becomes as
transparent as amber; when burned it gives forth a most delicious
perfume, and when dissolved in spirits of wine, forms a beautiful
transparent varnish.’
The completion of our new farm-house occupied us several days; we wove
strong lianas and other creepers together to form the walls to the
height of about six feet; the rest, up to the roof, we formed merely of
a latticework of laths to admit both air and light. Within we divided
the house into three parts; one subdivided into stalls for the animals;
a second fitted with perches for the birds, and a third, simply
furnished with a rough table and benches, to serve as a
sleeping-apartment for ourselves, when we should find it necessary to
pay the place a visit. In a short time the dwelling was most
comfortably arranged, and as we daily filled the feeding-troughs with
the food the animals best liked, they showed no inclination to desert
the spot we had chosen for them.
Yet, hard as we had worked, we found that the provisions we had
brought with us would be exhausted before we could hope to be able to
leave the farm. I therefore dispatched Jack and Fritz for fresh
supplies.
During their absence, Ernest and I made a short excursion in the
neighbourhood, that we might know more exactly the character of the
country near our farm.
Passing over a brook which flowed towards the wall of rocks, we
reached a large marsh, and as we walked round it, I noticed with
delight that it was covered with the rice plant growing wild in the
greatest profusion. Here and there only were there any ripe plants, and
from these rose a number of ruffed grouse, at which both Ernest and I
let fly. Two fell, and Fangs, who was with us, brought them to our
feet.
As we advanced, Knips skipped from the back of his steed Juno and
began to regale himself on some fruit, at a short distance off; we
followed the little animal and found him devouring delicious
strawberries. Having enjoyed the fruit ourselves, we filled the hamper
Knips always carried, and secured the fruit from his pilfering paws
with leaves fixed firmly down.
I then took a sample of the rice seeds to show my wife, and we
continued our journey.
Presently we reached the borders of the pretty lake which we had seen
beyond the swamp. The nearer aspect of its calm blue waters greatly
charmed us, and still more so, the sight of numbers of black swans,
disporting themselves on the glassy surface, in which their stately
forms and graceful movements were reflected as in a mirror. It was
delightful to watch these splendid birds, old and young swimming
together in the peaceful enjoyment of life, seeking their food, and
pursuing one another playfully in the water.
I could not think of breaking in upon their happy beautiful existence
by firing among them, but our dog Juno was by no means so considerate;
for all at once I heard a plunge, and saw her drag out of the water a
most peculiar-looking creature, something like a small otter, but not
above twenty-two inches in length, which she would have torn to pieces,
had we not hurried up and taken it from her.
This curious little animal was of a soft dark brown colour, the fur
being of a lighter shade under the belly; its feet were furnished with
large claws, and also completely webbed, the head small, with deeply
set eyes and ears, and terminating in a broad flat bill like that of a
duck.
This singularity seemed to us so droll that we both laughed heartily,
feeling at the same time much puzzled to know what sort of animal it
could possibly be. For want of a better, we gave it the name of the
`Beast with a Bill’*, and Ernest willingly undertook to carry it, that
it might be stuffed and kept as a curiosity.
* A platypus. The next time they encounter one, he knows its name.
After this we returned to the farm, thinking our messengers might soon
arrive, and sure enough, in about a
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