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

treasure!’

 

`Certainly if we could make any use of it; otherwise, in our

situation, it is about as valuable as the lump of gold found by good

old Robinson Crusoe.’

 

`Anyhow, I will break off a piece for a specimen. See, here is a fine

bit, only rather dull, and not transparent: what a pity! I must knock

off another.’

 

`You must go more carefully to work, or it will look as dull as the

first. You destroyed its true form, which is that of a pyramid, with

six sides or facets.’

 

We remained some time in this interesting grotto, but our light burnt

low after we had examined it in different directions; and Fritz having

secured a large lump, which exhibited several crystals in perfection,

we quitted the place, Fritz discharging a farewell shot for the sake of

hearing the grand echoes.

 

On reaching the open air we saw poor Jack sobbing bitterly, but as soon

as we appeared he ran joyfully towards us, and threw himself into my

arms.

 

`My child, what is the matter?’ I cried anxiously.

 

`Oh, I thought you were lost! I heard a noise twice, as if the rocks

had shattered down; and I thought you and Fritz were crushed in the

ruins! It was horrible! How glad I am to see you!’

 

I comforted the child, and explained the noises he had heard,

inquiring why he was alone.

 

`Ernest is over there among the reeds: I daresay he did not hear the

shots.’

 

I found Ernest busily engaged in weaving a basket in which to catch

fish: he had devised it ingeniously, with a funnel-shaped entrance;

through which the fish passing would not easily find their way out, but

would remain swimming about in the wide part of the apparatus.

 

`I shot a young serpent while you were away, father,’ said he. `It lies

there covered with rushes; it is nearly four feet long, and as thick as

my arm.’

 

`A serpent!’ cried I, hurrying towards it in alarm, and fearing there

must be a brood of them in the swamp after all. `A fine large eel you

mean, my boy. This will provide an excellent supper for us tonight. I

am glad you had the courage to kill it, instead of taking to your heels

and fleeing from the supposed serpent.’

 

`Well, I thought it would be so horrid to be pursued and caught that I

preferred facing it; my shot took effect, but it was very difficult to

kill the creature outright, it moved about although its head was

smashed.’

 

`The tenacity of life possessed by eels is very remarkable,’ I said. `I

have heard that the best mode of killing them is to grasp them by the

neck and slap their tails smartly against a stone or post.’

 

We made our way back more easily by keeping close to the cliffs, where

the ground was firmer, and found my wife washing clothes at the

fountain. She rejoiced greatly at our safe return, and was much pleased

with the supply of fuller’s earth, as she said there was now very

little soap left. The eel was cooked for supper, and during the evening

a full account was given of our passage through the swamp, and

discovery of the rock-crystal cavern.

 

It was most important to ascertain whether any serpent lurked among the

woods of our little territory between the cliffs and the sea.

Preparations were set on foot for the second and greater undertaking of

a search throughout the country beyond the river, as far as the Gap. I

wished all the family to go on the expedition, a decision which gave

universal satisfaction.

 

Intending to be engaged in this search for several weeks, we took the

small tent and a store of all sorts of necessary provisions, as well as

firearms, tools, cooking utensils and torches.

 

All these things were packed on the cart, which was drawn by Storm and

Grumble. Jack and Franz mounted them, and acted at once the part of

riders and drivers. My wife sat comfortably in the cart, Fritz rode in

advance, while Ernest and I walked; we were protected in flank by the

dogs and Fangs, the tame jackal.

 

Directing our course towards Woodlands, we saw many traces of the

serpent’s approach to Rockburg. In some places, where the soil was

loose, the trail, like a broad furrow, was very evident indeed.

 

At Falconhurst we made a halt and were, as usual, welcomed by the

poultry, as well as by the sheep and goats.

 

We then passed on to Woodlands, where we arrived at nightfall. All was

peaceful and in good order; no track of the boa in that direction; no

signs of visits from mischievous apes; the little farm and its

inhabitants looked most flourishing.

 

Next day was passed in making a survey of the immediate neighbourhood,

at the same time collecting a quantity of cotton, which was wanted for

new pillows and cushions. In the afternoon Franz was my companion,

carrying a small gun, entrusted to him for the first time.

 

We took Fangs and Bruno with us, and went slowly along the left bank of

the lake, winding our way among reedy thickets, which frequently turned

us aside a considerable distance from the water. The dogs hunted about

in all directions, and raised duck, snipe and heron. These usually flew

directly across the lake, so that Franz got no chance of a shot. He

began to get rather impatient, and proposed firing at the black swans

we saw sailing gracefully on the glassy surface of the lake.

 

Just then a harsh booming sound struck our ears. I paused in wonder as

to whence the noise proceeded, while Franz exclaimed,

 

`Oh, father! Can that be Swift, our young onager?’

 

`It cannot possibly be Swift,’ said I; adding, after listening

attentively a minute or two, `I am inclined to think it must be the cry

of a bittern, a fine handsome bird of the nature of a heron.’

 

`Oh! may I shoot it, father? But I wonder how a bird can make that

roaring noise! One would think it was an ox, it is more like lowing

than braying.’

 

`The noise creatures make depends more on the construction of the

windpipe, its relation to the lungs and the strength of the muscles

which force out the breath, than on their size. As for example, how

loud is the song of the nightingale and the little canary bird. Some

people say that the bittern booms with his long bill partly thrust into

the boggy ground, which increases the hollow muffled sound of its very

peculiar cry.’

 

Franz was very anxious that the first trophy of his gun should be so

rare a bird as the bittern; the dogs were sent into the wood, and we

waited some distance apart, in readiness to fire.

 

All at once there was a great rustling in the thicket. Franz fired, and

I heard his happy voice calling out: `I’ve hit him! I’ve hit him!’

 

`What have you hit?’ shouted I in return.

 

`A wild pig,’ said he, `but bigger than Fritz’s.’

 

`Aha! I see you remember the agouti! Perhaps it is not a hog at all,

but one of our little pigs from the farm. What will the old sow say to

you, Franz?’

 

I soon joined my boy, and found him in transports of joy over an

animal certainly very much like a pig, although its snout was broad and

blunt. It was covered with bristles, had no tail, and in colour was a

yellowish grey.

 

Examining it carefully and noticing its webbed feet, and its curious

teeth, I decided that it must be a capybara, a water-loving animal of

South America, and Franz was overjoyed to find that he had shot ‘a new

creature’, as he said.

 

It was difficult to carry it home, but he very sensibly proposed that

we should open and clean the carcase, which would make it lighter.

Then, putting it in a game-bag, he carried it till quite tired out; he

asked if I thought Bruno would let him strap it on his back. We found

the dog willing to bear the burden, and reached Woodlands soon

afterwards.

 

There we were surprised to see Ernest surrounded by a number of large

rats which lay dead on the ground.

 

`Where can all these have come from?’ exclaimed I. `Have you and your

mother been rat-hunting instead of gathering rice as you intended?’

 

`We came upon these creatures quite unexpectedly,’ he replied. `While

in the rice swamp, Knips, who was with us, sprang away to a kind of

long-shaped mound among the reeds, and pounced upon something, which

tried to escape into a hole.

 

`He chattered and gnashed his teeth, and the creature hissed and

squeaked, and running up, I found he had got a big rat by the tail; he

would not let go, and the rat could not turn in the narrow entrance to

bite him, but I soon pulled it out and killed it with my stick.

 

`The mound was a curious-looking erection, so I broke it open with some

difficulty, and in doing this dislodged quite a dozen of the creatures.

Some I killed, but many plunged into the water and escaped.

 

`On examining their dwelling I found it a vaulted tunnel made of clay

and mud, and thickly lined with sedges, rushes, and water-lily leaves.

 

`There were other mounds or lodges close by, and seeking an entrance to

one I stretched my game-bag across it, and then hammered on the roof

till a whole lot of rats sprang out, several right into the bag. I hit

away right and left, but began to repent of my audacity when I found

the whole community swarming about in the wildest excitement, some

escaping, but many stopping in bewilderment, while others actually

attacked me.

 

`It was anything but pleasant, I assure you, and I began to think of

Bishop Hatto in the Mouse Tower on the Rhine. Knips liked it as little

as I did, and skipped about desperately to get out of their way, though

he now and then seized a rat by the neck in his teeth.

 

`Just as I began to shout for help, Juno came dashing through the

reeds and water, and made quick work with the enemy, all flying from

her attack.

 

`My mother had great difficulty in forcing her way through the marsh to

the scene of action, but reached me at last; and we collected all the

slain to show you, and for the sake of their skins.’

 

This account excited my curiosity, and I went to examine the place

Ernest described: where I found, to my surprise, an arrangement much

like a beaver dam, though on a small scale, and less complete.

 

`You have discovered a colony of beaver rats,’ said I to Ernest, `so

called from their resemblance in skill and manner of life to that

wonderful creature.

 

`Muskrat, musquash, and ondatra are other names given to them. They

have, you see, webbed feet and flattened tails, and we shall find that

they carry two small glands containing the scented substance called

musk. The sooner we strip off the skins the better; they will be useful

for making caps.’

 

We went back to the house, and met Fritz and Jack just returned from

their excursion, reporting that no trace of serpents, great or small,

had been met with.

 

Jack carried in his hat about a dozen eggs; and Fritz had shot a

couple of heath fowls, a cock and hen.

 

We sat down to supper, Franz eager to partake of