The next morning my wife and children besought me to begin my
manufacture of candles. I remembered having seen the chandler at work,
and I tried to recall all my remembrances of the process. I put into a
boiler as many berries as it would hold, and placed it over a moderate
fire: the wax melted from the berries, and rose to the surface, and this
I carefully skimmed with a large flat spoon and put in a separate vessel
placed near the fire; when this was done, my wife supplied me with some
wicks she had made from the threads of sailcloth; these wicks were
attached, four at a time, to a small stick; I dipped them into the wax,
and placed them on two branches of a tree to dry; I repeated this
operation as often as necessary to make them the proper thickness, and
then placed them in a cool spot to harden. But we could not forbear
trying them that very night; and, thought somewhat rude in form, it was
sufficient that they reminded us of our European home, and prolonged our
days by many useful hours we had lost before.
This encouraged me to attempt another enterprise. My wife had long
regretted that she had not been able to make butter. She had attempted
to beat her cream in a vessel, but either the heat of the climate, or
her want of patience, rendered her trials unsuccessful. I felt that I
had not skill enough to make a churn; but I fancied that by some simple
method, like that used by the Hottentots, who put their cream in a skin
and shake it till they produce butter, we might obtain the same result.
I cut a large gourd in two, filled it with three quarts of cream, then
united the parts, and secured them closely. I fastened a stick to each
corner of a square piece of sailcloth, placed the gourd in the middle,
and, giving a corner to each of my sons, directed them to rock the cloth
with a slow, regular motion, as you would a child’s cradle. This was
quite an amusement for them; and at the end of an hour, my wife had the
pleasure of placing before us some excellent butter. I then tried to
make a cart, our sledge being unfitted for some roads; the wheels I had
brought from the wreck rendered this less difficult; and I completed a
very rude vehicle, which was, nevertheless, very useful to us.
While I was thus usefully employed, my wife and children were not idle.
They had transplanted the European trees, and thoughtfully placed each
in the situation best suited to it. I assisted with my hands and
counsels. The vines we planted round the roots of our trees, and hoped
in time to form a trellis-work. Of the chesnut, walnut, and
cherry-trees, we formed an avenue from Falcon’s Nest to Family Bridge,
which, we hoped, would ultimately be a shady road between our two
mansions. We made a solid road between the two rows of trees, raised in
the middle and covered with sand, which we brought from the shore in our
wheelbarrows. I also made a sort of tumbril, to which we harnessed the
ass, to lighten this difficult labour.
We then turned our thoughts to Tent House, our first abode, and which
still might form our refuge in case of danger. Nature had not favoured
it; but our labour soon supplied all deficiencies. We planted round it
every tree that requires ardent heat; the citron, pistachio, the almond,
the mulberry, the Siamese orange, of which the fruit is as large as the
head of a child, and the Indian fig, with its long prickly leaves, all
had a place here. These plantations succeeding admirably, we had, after
some time, the pleasure of seeing the dry and sandy desert converted
into a shady grove, rich in flowers and fruit. As this place was the
magazine for our arms, ammunition, and provisions of all sorts; we made
a sort of fortress of it, surrounding it with a high hedge of strong,
thorny trees; so that not only to wild beasts, but even to human
enemies, it was inaccessible. Our bridge was the only point of approach,
and we always carefully removed the first planks after crossing it. We
also placed our two cannon on a little elevation within the enclosure;
and, finally, we planted some cedars, near our usual landing-place, to
which we might, at a future time, fasten our vessels. These labours
occupied us three months, only interrupted by a strict attention to the
devotions and duties of the Sunday. I was most especially grateful to
God for the robust health we all enjoyed, in the midst of our
employments. All went on well in our little colony. We had an abundant
and certain supply of provisions; but our wardrobe, notwithstanding the
continual repairing my wife bestowed on it, was in a most wretched
state, and we had no means of renewing it, except by again visiting the
wreck, which I knew still contained some chests of clothes, and bales
of cloth. This decided me to make another voyage; besides I was rather
anxious to see the state of the vessel.
We found it much in the same condition we had left it, except being much
more shattered by the winds and waves.
We selected many useful things for our cargo; the bales of linen and
woollen cloth were not forgotten; some barrels of tar; and everything
portable that we could remove; doors, windows, tables, benches, locks
and bolts, all the ammunition, and even such of the guns as we could
move. In fact we completely sacked the vessel; carrying off, after
several days’ labour, all our booty, with the exception of some weighty
articles, amongst which were three or four immense boilers, intended for
a sugar-manufactory. These we tied to some large empty casks, which we
pitched completely over, and hoped they would be able to float in
the water.
When we had completed our arrangements, I resolved to blow up the ship.
We placed a large barrel of gunpowder in the hold, and arranging a long
match from it, which would burn some hours, we lighted it, and proceeded
without delay to Safety Bay to watch the event. I proposed to my wife to
sup on a point of land where we could distinctly see the vessel. Just as
the sun was going down, a majestic rolling, like thunder, succeeded by a
column of fire, announced the destruction of the vessel, which had
brought us from Europe, and bestowed its great riches on us. We could
not help shedding tears, as we heard the last mournful cry of this sole
remaining bond that connected us with home. We returned sorrowfully to
Tent House, and felt as if we had lost an old friend.
We rose early next morning, and hastened to the shore, which we found
covered with the wreck, which, with a little exertion, we found it easy
to collect. Amongst the rest, were the large boilers. We afterwards used
these to cover our barrels of gunpowder, which we placed in a part of
the rock, where, even if an explosion took place, no damage could ensue.
My wife, in assisting us with the wreck, made the agreeable discovery,
that two of our ducks, and one goose, had hatched each a brood, and were
leading their noisy young families to the water. This reminded us of all
our poultry and domestic comfort, at Falcon’s Nest, and we determined to
defer, for some time, the rest of our work at Tent House, and to return
the next day to our shady summer home.
* * * * *