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

Chapter 16

`We spend our years as a tale that is told,’ said King David. These

words recurred to me again and again as I reviewed ten years, of which

the story lay chronicled in the pages of my journal.

 

Year followed year; chapter succeeded chapter; steadily,

imperceptibly, time was passing away.

 

The shade of sadness cast on my mind by retrospect of this kind, was

dispelled by thoughts full of gratitude to God, for the welfare and

happiness of my beloved family during so long a period. I had cause

especially to rejoice in seeing our sons advance to manhood

strengthened by early training for lives of usefulness and activity

wherever their lot might fall.

 

And my great wish is that young people who read this record of our

lives and adventures, should learn from it how admirably suited is the

peaceful, industrious and pious life of a cheerful and united family,

to the formation of strong, pure and manly character.

 

None take a better place in the great national family, none are

happier or more beloved than those who go forth from such homes to

fulfil new duties, and to gather fresh interests around them.

 

Having given a detailed account of several years’ residence in New

Switzerland, as we liked to call our dominion, it is needless for me to

continue what would exhaust the patience of the most long-suffering, by

repeating monotonous narratives of exploring parties and hunting

expeditions, wearisome descriptions of awkward inventions and clumsy

machines, with an endless record of discoveries, more fit for the pages

of an encyclopaedia, than a book of family history.

 

Yet before winding up with the concluding events, I may mention some

interesting facts illustrative of our exact position at the time these

took place.

 

Rockburg and Falconhurst continued to be our winter and summer

headquarters, and improvements were added which made them more and more

convenient as well as attractive in appearance.

 

The fountains, trellised verandahs and plantations round Rockburg,

completely changed the character of the residence which on account of

the heat and want of vegetation had in former days been so distasteful

to my wife. Flowering creepers overhung the balconies and pillars;

while shrubs and trees, both native and European, grew luxuriantly in

groves of our planting.

 

In the distance, Shark Island, now clothed with graceful palms,

guarded the entrance to Safety Bay, the battery and flagstaff

prominently visible on its crested rock.

 

The swamp, cleared and drained, was now a considerable lake, with just

marsh and reeds enough beyond it to form good cover for the waterfowl

whose favourite retreat it was.

 

On its blue waters sailed stately black swans, snow-white geese and

richly coloured ducks; while out and in among the water-plants and

rushes would appear at intervals glimpses of the brilliant Sultan,

marsh-fowl, crimson flamingos, soft blue-grey demoiselle cranes, and

crested heron, all associating in harmony, and with no fear of us,

their masters.

 

The giant frogs, Grace and Beauty, delighted Jack by actually

attaining in time to the size of small rabbits; and, perfectly knowing

their very appropriate names, would waddle out of the marsh at his

call, to eat a grasshopper or dainty fly.

 

Beneath the spreading trees, and through the aromatic shrubberies, old

Hurry, the ostrich, was usually to be seen marching about, with grave

and dignified pace, as though monarch of all he surveyed. Every variety

of beautiful pigeon nested in the rocks and dove-cots, their soft

cooing and glossy plumage making them favourite household pets.

 

By the bridge alone could Rockburg be approached; for higher up the

river where, near the cascade, it was fordable, a dense and

impenetrable thicket of orange and lemon trees, Indian figs, prickly

pears and all manner of thorn-bearing shrubs, planted by us, now formed

a complete barrier.

 

The rabbit-warren on Shark Island kept us well supplied with food, as

well as soft and useful fur; and, as the antelopes did not thrive on

Whale Isle, they also were placed among the shady groves with the

rabbits, and their own island devoted to such work as candle-making,

tanning, wool-cleaning and any other needful but offensive operations.

 

The farm at Woodlands flourished, and our flocks and herds supplied us

with mutton, beef and veal, while my wife’s dairy was almost more than

she could manage.

 

My boys retained their old love for giving names to the animals. They

had a beautiful creamy-white cow, called Blanche, and a bull with such

a tremendous voice, that he received the name of Stentor. Two fleet

young onagers were named Arrow and Dart; and Jack had a descendant of

his old favourite Fangs, the jackal, which he chose to call Coco,

asserting that no word could be distinguished at a distance without `o’

in it, giving illustrations of his theory till our ears were almost

deafened.

 

Excellent health had been enjoyed by us all during these ten years,

though my wife occasionally suffered from slight attacks of fever, and

the boys sometimes met with little accidents.

 

They were all fine handsome fellows: Fritz, now twenty-four, was of

moderate height, uncommonly strong, active, muscular and

high-spirited.

 

Ernest, two years younger, was tall and slight; in disposition, mild,

calm and studious; his early faults of indolence and selfishness were

almost entirely overcome. He possessed refined tastes and great

intellectual power.

 

Jack, at twenty, strongly resembled Fritz, being about his height,

though more lightly built, and remarkable rather for active grace and

agility than for muscular strength.

 

Franz, a lively youth of seventeen, had some of the qualities of each

of his brothers; he possessed wit and shrewdness, but not the arch

drollery of Jack.

 

All were honourable, God-fearing young men, dutiful and affectionate to

their mother and myself, and warmly attached to each other.

 

Although so many years had elapsed in total seclusion, it continued to

be my strong impression that we should one day be restored to the

society of our fellow men.

 

But time, which was bringing our sons to manhood, was also carrying

their parents onwards to old age; and anxious, gloomy thoughts relating

to their future, should they be left indeed alone, sometimes oppressed

my heart.

 

On such occasions I would not communicate the sense of depression to my

family, but turning in prayer to the Almighty Father, laid my trouble

before Him, with never-failing renewal of strength and hope.

 

My elder sons often made expeditions of which we knew nothing until

their return after many hours; when any uneasiness I might have felt

was dissipated by their joyous appearance, and reproof always died away

on my lips.

 

Fritz had been absent one whole day from Rockburg, and not until

evening did we remark that his cajack was gone, and that he must be out

at sea.

 

Anxious to see him return before nightfall, I went off to Shark Island

with Ernest and Jack, in order to look out for him from the watch-tower

there, at the same time hoisting our signal flag, and loading the gun.

 

Long we gazed across the expanse of ocean glittering in the level

beams of the setting sun, and finally discerned a small black speck in

the distance which, by the telescope, was proved to be the returning

wanderer.

 

I remarked that his skiff sailed at a slower rate than usual towards

the shore. The cannon was fired to let him know that his approach was

observed, and then we joyfully hurried back to receive him at the

harbour.

 

It was easy to see, as he drew near, what had delayed his progress. The

cajack towed a large sack, besides being heavily laden. `Welcome,

Fritz!’ I cried. `Welcome back, wherever you come from and whatever you

bring. You seem to have quite a cargo there!’

 

`Yes, and my trip has led to discoveries as well as booty,’ answered

he. `Interesting discoveries which will tempt us again in the same

direction. Come, boys, let’s carry up the things, and while I rest I

will relate my adventures.’

 

As soon as possible all assembled round him. `I think my absence

without leave deserves reproach instead of this warm reception,

father, and I must apologize for it,’ he began, `but ever since I

possessed the cajack it has been my ambition to make a voyage of

discovery along the coast, which we have never explored beyond the

point at which I killed the walrus.

 

`In order to be ready to start without delay when a convenient

opportunity offered, I made preparations beforehand, such as

provisioning my skiff, fixing the compass in front of my seat,

arranging conveniently rifle, harpoon, axe, boat-hook and fishing-net.

I also resolved to take with me Pounce, my eagle, and this I always

will do in future.

 

`This morning dawned magnificently; the calm sea, the gentle breeze,

all drew me irresistibly to the fulfilment of my purpose.

 

`I left the harbour unperceived, the current quickly bore me out to

sea, and I rounded the point to the left, passing just over the spot

where, beneath the waves, lie the guns, cannon balls, ironwork, and all

that was indestructible about our good old wreck. And would you believe

it? Through the glassy clear water, undisturbed by a ripple, I actually

saw many such things strewn on the flat rocky bottom.

 

`Pursuing my way, I passed among rugged cliffs and rocks which jutted

out from the shore, or rose in rugged masses from the water. Myriads of

sea-fowl inhabited the