Oh, those dear letters from home!
Did not Fritz pore over them, when he and Eric got back to their little
hut, glad to sit down and be quiet again, all to themselves after the
excitement of the schooner's visit and the fatigue of shipping the
produce of their labours during the past?
Madame Dort's missive was a long, voluminous epistle of ever so many
pages, written in their dear mother's clear hand, without a blot or a
scratch out, or any tedious crossing of the pages to make the writing
indistinct. She had been a teacher, and able to write well, if only
because she had formerly to instruct others? The letter was public
property for both, being addressed to Eric as well as Fritz, and it
contained much loving news--news that caused the elder brother
frequently to pause in his reading and Eric to dash away the quick tears
from his bright eyes; while, anon, it made them both laugh by some funny
allusion to household arrangements as they recalled the well-remembered
little home scene in the old-fashioned house in which the two had been
brought up, in the Gulden Strasse at Lubeck.
The communication was so lengthy that it was almost a journal, Madame
Dort recounting all the haps and mishaps of the family since Fritz had
gone away, taking it for granted that he would have informed Eric of all
that had transpired during the lad's previous absence.
The letter mentioned, too, that the neighbours were all interested in
the brothers' adventures and called frequently to ask her about them.
Herr Grosschnapper, she also related, had especially told her that he
had never employed so accurate a book-keeper as Fritz; for, the new
clerk had, like a new broom, swept so clean that he had swept himself
out of favour, the old merchant longing to have the widow's son back in
his counting-house again.
"I don't wonder at that," exclaimed Eric, interrupting the reading here.
"He should have known when he was well off and kept your place open for
you until your return from the war!"
"So he did, brother, he waited as long as he could," said Fritz, taking
the part of the absent, although the matter was still a sore subject
with him; and, then, he continued reading out his mother's letter, which
went on to detail Lorischen's many dreams about the children of her
nursing--how she prophesied that Eric would be such a big strapping
fellow that the house would not be able to contain him, and how Mouser
had developed such an affection for Gelert, that he even followed the
dog, when the latter went out to take his walks abroad, in the most
fearless manner possible, trusting evidently to the kindness of his
canine protector to prevent other obnoxious animals like Burgher Jans
terrier from molesting him! Oh, and while mentioning the little fat
man's dog, Madame Dort said she had such a wonderful story to relate.
What would they think of Lorischen--
"I said it would turn out so!" cried Eric, interrupting his brother a
second time. "I always said it would turn out so, in spite of all our
old nurse's cruel treatment of the little Burgher."
"What did you say, Mr Prophet?" asked Fritz good-humouredly.
"That he and Lorischen would make a match of it yet," replied Eric,
clapping his hands in high glee. "What fun that would be! Is it not
so, brother?"
"You might be further out in your guessing than that," said Fritz, going
on to the denouement of the story told in his mother's letter. Yes,
Madame Dort wrote, the little fat man had really, one day when Lorischen
had received him more affably than usual and invited him to partake of
some nice cheese-cakes she had just made, asked her to marry him! And,
more wonderful still, in spite of all their old nurse used to say about
the Burgher, and how she pretended to detest him, as they must remember
well, Lorischen had finally agreed to an engagement with him, promising
to unite her fate with his when Herr Fritz and Master Eric came home.
"So now, dear boys both, you know how much depends on your return,"
concluded their mother in her quaint way, for she had a keen
appreciation of humour. "If only to hasten the happiness of old
Lorischen and her well-beloved little fat man, pray do not delay your
coming back as soon as ever you can conveniently manage it. I say
nothing about myself or of Madaleine, my new daughter; for, you must be
able to imagine without the aid of any words of mine, how we are both
longing and praying to see you again!"
"And now for sister Madaleine's letter," cried Eric, when he had kissed
the signature to that of his mother's which Fritz handed over to him as
soon as he had done reading it aloud. "It seems almost as big a one as
mutterchen's and I dare say there'll be lots more news in it!"
"Ah, I think I'll read this first to myself," said Fritz dryly; adding a
moment after when he noticed Eric's look of intense disgust: "you see,
she only writes to me, you know."
"Oh yes, that's very fine!" exclaimed the other, in a highly aggrieved
tone. "Never mind, though, I can pay you out sooner than you think,
Master Fritz! See this little note here!"
"No--yes--what is it?" said Fritz, looking up in an absent way from the
second of the home letters, which now lay open on his knee.
"Ah, wouldn't you like to know, Mr Selfish-keep-his-letters-to-himself
sort of a brother, eh? Well, then, this note here contains some of the
dearest words you ever saw penned! It was enclosed by Miss Celia Brown
in a letter of her father's to you--which you've taken such little
account of that you chucked it down on the floor in your ridiculous
hurry to read that letter which you won't tell me about. Now, I did
intend, Master Fritz, to give you this delightful little note, which I
would not part with for the world, for you to read it your own self;
but, now, I shan't let you once cast your eyes over it, there! It is
only a little tiny note; still, I think much more of it than all your
big letters from that Madaleine Vogelstein, who I don't believe is half
as handsome as Celia!"
"All right then, we're both satisfied if such is the case," rejoined
Fritz, in no way put out by this outburst, or alarmed at the terrible
reprisals threatened by Eric, and then, the elder brother bowed his head
again over the unfolded sheets of scented paper lying on his knee that
came from his sweetheart across the sea.
The letter was all that the fondest lover could wish; and, with the
omission of a few endearing terms, Fritz subsequently read it to Eric,
who thereupon relented from his previous resolution and showed him Miss
Celia Brown's note. This, however, contained nothing very remarkable,
after all; unless a postscript, saying that the writer "expected to have
a good time" when the sailor lad returned to Providence, deserves to be
described in Eric's extravagant language.
The schooner's visit having settled their minds, so to speak, the
brother crusoes were able after her departure to devote themselves anew,
with all the greater zest, to what they now considered their regular
work.
As in the previous year, before adventuring beyond their own special
domain, the garden was dug up and replanted; the labour this time, of
course, being far less than on the first occasion, for they had no
longer virgin soil to tackle with as then.
A much larger lot of potatoes were put into the ground, the brothers
having learnt by experience that, after once planting, these useful
"apples of the earth" necessitated little further trouble, one good
hoeing up when the sprouts had appeared above the surface and an
occasional rake over to keep down the weeds being quite sufficient to
make the plot look neat; while, should they have more than they required
for themselves when harvest time came, they could easily store them up
for the use of the _Pilot's Bride_ crew, as a slight return for all
Captain Brown's kindness.
A good crop of cabbages and onions was also provided for; while Eric did
not forget his favourite peas and beans for their next Christmas
banquet.
This task done and things tidied up about the hut, so as to make their
immediate surroundings snug and comfortable, the brothers determined,
the weather being now settled and fair, to have a cruise round the coast
again. They were anxious to find out whether the seals were about yet,
besides wishing to pay another visit to the tableland, which they had
been debarred from exploring since the bonfire had burnt up their ladder
at the beginning of the winter season.
They would, naturally, have made this expedition long before, had the
wind and sea not been so boisterous--very unlike, indeed, the genial
spell they had experienced in the previous year; but, really, from the
month of August, a succession of gales had set in from different points
of the compass and the navigation was so dangerous that it would not
have been safe to have ventured out beyond the bay. Indeed, as it was,
the whale-boat got so much knocked about by a heavy sea, which came
rolling in on the beach one night when they had not drawn her up far
enough, that she was now far too cranky for them to trust their lives in
her in bad weather.
However, one fine day, late in November, with all their shooting and
hunting gear, in addition to a supply of provisions for a week or ten
days, they set sail from the bay bound westward round the headland,
intending to have a regular outing.
Seals they found plentiful enough, the animals having returned to their
breeding haunts much earlier than the year before. They seemed,
besides, so tame that the new-comers must either have been quite a fresh
family of the mammals, or else the brothers had stolen a march on the
Tristaners and would therefore have the advantage of the first assault
on the seals.
There was nothing like taking time by the forelock, and so, without
frightening the animals by any display of hostility, the brothers
quietly landed their traps in a little creek some distance away from the
principal cove they frequented; and then, the two organised a regular
campaign against their unsuspecting prey.
Eric with a rifle and harpoon got round the seals by way of the land;
while Fritz, equally well provided with weapons, assailed them from the
sea in the boat, both making a rush together by a preconcerted signal.
Their strategy was triumphant this time; for, after a very one-sided
battle between the intrepid seal killers on the one hand and the
terrified, helpless creatures on the other, eighty-five victims were
counted on the field of battle--six of the animals being sea elephants,
and five sea bears, or "lions," a species having a curious sort of curly
mane round their necks, while the remainder of the slain consisted of
specimens of the common seal of commerce.
"Why, brother, this is grand!" exclaimed Eric, as he and Fritz counted
over the spoil. "But, how shall we get the blubber and skins round to
the bay? Our boat will never carry them all in her leaky state."
"Well, laddie, I thought you were the inventive genius of the family,"
said the other. "Can't you think of an easier plan than lugging them
round the headland all that way by sea?"
"I'm sure I can't," Eric replied, with a hopeless stare.
"Then, I'll tell you," said Fritz. "What think you of our just taking
them up to the top of the plateau; and, after a short walk across the
tableland, pitching our bundle of spoil down right in front of our hut--
without first loading up the boat and then unloading her again, besides
having the trouble of toiling all the way from the beach to the cottage
afterwards?"
"Why, that's a splendid plan!" cried Eric; "almost good enough for me to
have thought of it."
"I like your impudence!" said Fritz, laughing. "Certainly, a young
sailor of my acquaintance has a very good opinion of himself!"
"Right you are," rejoined Eric, with his time-honoured phrase; and then
the two, as usual, had a hearty laugh.
Skinning the seals and packing up the layers of blubber within the pelts
was then the order of the day with them for some hours, Fritz pointing
out, that, if they removed all the traces of the combat before
nightfall, the seals would return to their old haunt the next day, the
evening tide being sufficient to wash away the traces of blood on the
rocks as well as bear to the bottom the bodies of the slain victims;
otherwise, the sad sight of the carcases of their slain comrades still
lying about the scene of battle would prevent the scared and timid
animals from coming back.
Consequently, the brothers worked hard; and, practice having made them
proficients in the knack of ripping off the coats of the seals with one
or two dexterous slashes with a keen knife along the stomach and down
the legs of the animals, they stripped off the skins in much less time
than might be imagined.
Then, the pelts and layers of blubber were rolled up together in handy
bundles and conveyed up to the plateau. This was a very tedious job,
necessitating, first, a weary tramp to and from the beach to where the
path led up to the summit of the tableland; and, secondly, a scramble up
the rocky and wearisome ascent of the plateau, this latter part of their
labour being rendered all the more difficult and disagreeable by the
bundles of blubber and skins, which they had to carry up on their heads
in the same fashion as negroes always convey their loads--a thing
apparently easy enough to the blacks by reason of their strong craniums,
but terribly "headachy" for Europeans unaccustomed to such burdens!
Fritz and Eric did not hurry over this job, however, deferring its
completion till the morning. They camped out on the plateau so as to be
out of the way of the seals, glad enough to rest after their day's
labour, without going hunting after the goats, as they had intended at
first doing, the same afternoon.
Next morning, seeing no seals about--the animals probably not having
recovered from their fright yet--they continued carrying up the skins
and blubber, until they had quite a respectable pile on the plateau;
when, the next question arose about its transportation across the
tableland to the eastern side, immediately over the gully by which they
used to climb up, near their hut.
"I wish we had brought your carriage, Fritz," said Eric, alluding to the
wheelbarrow, which had been so styled by the sailor lad after he had
utilised it as an ambulance waggon.
"It's too late to wish that now," replied the other.
"I could soon go round in the boat and fetch it, brother," cried Eric,
looking as if he were going to start off at the moment.
"No, stop, laddie; we could not spare the boat," said Fritz, laying his
hand on his arm. "It would be more than likely that, the moment you
were out of sight the seals would land again on the rocks, when we
should miss the chance of taking them! I don't believe we shall have
more than one other chance of getting their skins; for the Tristaners
will soon be here again on their annual excursion, with that fellow
Slater in their company, and, I confess, I should not like us to be here
when they came."
"I wouldn't mind a row at all!" cried Eric defiantly; "still, as you
don't want me to go for the wheelbarrow, how do you suggest that we
should carry the skins across this dreary expanse here?"
"Let us make a stretcher with the oars," said Fritz.
"Bravo, the very thing," replied Eric. "Why, you are the inventive
genius this time!"
"Well, one must think of something sometimes," said Fritz, in his
matter-of-fact way; and the two then proceeded to carry out the plan of
the elder brother, which simplified their labour immensely. They only
had to make some three journeys across the plateau with the skins,
which, when the bundles were all transported to the eastern side of the
tableland, were incontinently tumbled over to the foot of the cliff
below, alighting quite close to the cauldron in which the blubber would
be subsequently "tried out" into oil.
Then, and not till then, did they pick up their guns and think of the
goats, which had hitherto led a charmed life as far as they were
concerned.
They soon noticed, however, that, in lieu of the large number they had
observed when they last saw them, the flock had been now reduced to
five. The Tristaners must evidently have paid another visit to the west
coast since they had met them there when going sealing the previous
season; and, this second visit the brothers put down to the instigation
of the whilom "deck hand," who had no doubt incited the islanders to do
everything they could to annoy them.
Fritz only shot one goat, leaving "Kaiser Billy" and the other three, on
the chance of their numbers being afterwards increased. He and Eric
then went for a hunt after the wild pigs, killing a fine young porker,
which they roasted on the plateau and made a feast of at their camp.
The flesh, however, was very coarse, tasting fishy and rank, probably on
account of the pigs feeding on the penguins, the young of which they
could easily secure by going down to the beach by the same pathway that
the brothers had climbed.
Fritz and Eric stayed ten days on the western shore; but during all the
time they remained they only were able to capture eleven more seals,
which made up their quota to ninety-six. Eric longed to run it up to
the even hundred, but they did not see another single mammal, although
they remained a day longer on the coast than they had intended.
This delay led to the most disastrous consequences; for, a gale sprang
up right in their teeth when they were on their way back to the bay with
the goat and the remaining sealskins, which they had not taken the
trouble of transporting across the plateau, but took along with them in
the boat.
It was something wonderful to notice the sea, which a short time
previously had been so placid, presently running high with mighty
rollers, that threatened each moment to engulf their little craft; and
they had to allow her to run before the wind some little time for fear
of getting her swamped.
This danger avoided, a worse one arose, which Fritz had not thought of,
but which soon became apparent to the sailor lad, his intelligence
heightened by his former painful experience when adrift in a boat at
sea, out of sight of land.
"I say, Fritz," he cried; "we are leaving the land!"
"What?" asked the other, not understanding him.
"We are getting away too far from the island; and if we go on like this,
we'll never get back."
"Good heavens, what shall we do?" said Fritz.
"I'm sure, I can't say," replied Eric despondently.
"Can't we put back?"
"No; we'd be upset in an instant, if we attempted it."
"Then, we're lost!" exclaimed Fritz. "The land is now growing quite
faint in the distance and each moment it sinks lower and lower!"
This was not the worst, either.
The afternoon was drawing to a close; and, the sky being overcast,
darkness threatened presently to creep over the water and shut out
everything from their gaze.