CHAPTER XXXVII.

Our animals were impatiently expecting us; they had been neglected

during the storm, and were ill-supplied with food, besides being

half-sunk in water. The ducks and the flamingo liked it well enough, and

were swimming comfortably in the muddy water; but the quadrupeds were

complaining aloud, each in his own proper language, and making a

frightful confusion of sounds. _Valiant_, especially,—the name Francis

had bestowed on the calf I had given him to bring up,—bleated

incessantly for his young master, and could not be quieted till he came.

It is wonderful how this child, only twelve years old, had tamed and

attached this animal; though sometimes so fierce, with him he was mild

as a lamb. The boy rode on his back, guiding him with a little stick,

with which he just touched the side of his neck as he wished him to

move; but if his brothers had ventured to mount, they would have been

certainly thrown off. A pretty sight was our cavalry: Fritz on his

handsome onagra, Jack on his huge buffalo, and Francis on his young

bull. There was nothing left for Ernest but the donkey, and its slow and

peaceful habits suited him very well.

Francis ran up to his favourite, who showed his delight at seeing him as

well as he was able, and at the first summons followed his master from

the stable. Fritz brought out _Lightfoot_ Jack his buffalo, and I

followed with the cow and the ass. We left them to sport about at

liberty on the humid earth, till we removed the water from their stable,

and supplied them with fresh food. We then drove them in, considering it

advisable to pursue our expedition on foot, lest the bridge should still

be overflowed. Francis was the superintendent of the fowls, and knew

every little chicken by name; he called them out and scattered their

food for them, and soon had his beautiful and noisy family fluttering

round him.

After having made all our animals comfortable, and given them their

breakfast, we began to think of our own. Francis made a fire and warmed

some chicken broth for his mother; for ourselves, we were contented with

some new milk, some salt herrings, and cold potatoes. I had often

searched in my excursions for the precious _bread-fruit_ tree, so highly

spoken of by modern travellers, which I had hoped might be found in our

island, from its favourable situation; but I had hitherto been

unsuccessful. We were unable to procure the blessing of _bread_, our

ship biscuit had long been exhausted, and though we had sown our

European corn, we had not yet reaped any.

After we had together knelt down to thank God for his merciful

protection through the terrors of the past night, and besought him to

continue it, we prepared to set out. The waves still ran high, though

the wind had subsided, and we determined merely to go along the shore,

as the roads still continued impassable from the rain, and the sand was

easier to walk on than the wet grass; besides, our principal motive for

the excursion was to search for any traces of a recent shipwreck. At

first we could discover nothing, even with the telescope; but Fritz,

mounting a high rock, fancied he discovered something floating towards

the island. He besought me to allow him to take the canoe, which was

still where he left it the preceding night. As the bridge was now easy

to cross, I consented, only insisting on accompanying him to assist in

managing it. Jack, who was much afraid of being left behind, was the

first to leap in and seize an oar. There was, however, no need of it; I

steered my little boat into the current, and we were carried away with

such velocity as almost to take our breath. Fritz was at the helm, and

appeared to have no fear; I will not say that his father was so

tranquil. I held Jack, for fear of accidents, but he only laughed, and

observed to his brother that the canoe galloped better than Lightfoot.

We were soon in the open sea, and directed our canoe towards the object

we had remarked, and which we still had in sight. We were afraid it was

the boat upset, but it proved to be a tolerably large cask, which had

probably been thrown overboard to lighten the distressed vessel; we saw

several others, but neither mast nor plank to give us any idea that the

vessel and boat had perished. Fritz wished much to have made the circuit

of the island, to assure ourselves of this, but I would not hear of it;

I thought of my wife’s terror; besides, the sea was still too rough for

our frail bark, and we had, moreover, no provisions. If my canoe had not

been well built, it would have run great risk of being overset by the

waves, which broke over it. Jack, when he saw one coming, lay down on

his face, saying he preferred having them on his back rather than in his

mouth; he jumped up as soon as it passed, to help to empty the canoe,

till another wave came to fill it again; but, thanks to my out-riggers,

we preserved our balance very well, and I consented to go as far as

_Cape Disappointment_, which merited the name a second time, for we

found no trace here of the vessel, though we mounted the hill, and thus

commanded a wide extent of view. As we looked round the country, it

appeared completely devastated: trees torn up by the roots, plantations

levelled with the ground, water collected into absolute lakes,—all

announced desolation; and the tempest seemed to be renewing. The sky was

darkened, the wind arose, and was unfavourable for our return; nor could

I venture the canoe on the waves, every instant becoming more

formidable. We moored our bark to a large palm-tree we found at the foot

of the hill, near the shore, and set out by land to our home. We crossed

the Gourd Wood and the Wood of Monkeys, and arrived at our farm, which

we found, to our great satisfaction, had not suffered much from the

storm. The food we had left in the stables was nearly consumed; from

which we concluded that the animals we had left here had sheltered

themselves during the storm. We refilled the mangers with the hay we had

preserved in the loft, and observing the sky getting more and more

threatening, we set out without delay for our house, from which we were

yet a considerable distance. To avoid _Flamingo Marsh_, which was

towards the sea, and _Rice Marsh_, towards the rock, we determined to go

through _Cotton Wood_, which would save us from the wind, which was

ready to blow us off our feet. I was still uneasy about the ship, which

the lieutenant had told me was out of repair; but I indulged a hope that

they might have taken refuge in some bay, or found anchorage on some

hospitable shore, where they might get their vessel into order.

Jack was alarmed lest they should fall into the hands of the

_anthropophagi_, who eat men like hares or sheep, of whom he had read in

some book of travels, and excited the ridicule of his brother, who was

astonished at his ready belief of travellers’ tales, which he asserted

were usually false.

“But Robinson Crusoe would not tell a falsehood,” said Jack,

indignantly; “and there were cannibals came to his island, and were

going to eat Friday, if he had not saved him.”

“Oh! Robinson could not tell a falsehood,” said Fritz, “because he never

existed. The whole history is a romance—is not that the name, father,

that is given to works of the imagination?”

“It is,” said I; “but we must not call Robinson Crusoe a romance; though

Robinson himself, and all the circumstances of his history are probably

fictitious, the details are all founded on truth—on the adventures and

descriptions of voyagers who may be depended on, and unfortunate

individuals who have actually been wrecked on unknown shores. If ever

our journal should be printed, many may believe that it is only a

romance—a mere work of the imagination.”

My boys hoped we should not have to introduce any savages into our

romance, and were astonished that an island so beautiful had not tempted

any to inhabit it; in fact, I had often been myself surprised at this

circumstance; but I told them many voyagers had noticed islands

apparently fertile, and yet uninhabited; besides, the chain of rocks

which surrounded this might prevent the approach of savages, unless they

had discovered the little _Bay of Safety_ where we had landed. Fritz

said he anxiously desired to circumnavigate the island, in order to

ascertain the size of it, and if there were similar chains of rocks on

the opposite side. I promised him, as soon as the stormy weather was

past, and his mother well enough to remove to Tent House, we would take

our pinnace, and set out on our little voyage.

We now approached the marsh, and he begged me to let him go and cut some

canes, as he projected making a sort of carriage for his mother. As we

were collecting them, he explained his scheme to me. He wished to weave

of these reeds, which were very strong, a large and long sort of

pannier, in which his mother might sit or recline, and which might be

suspended between two strong bamboo canes by handles of rope. He then

purposed to yoke two of our most gentle animals, the cow and the ass,

the one before and the other behind, between these shafts, the leader to

be mounted by one of the children as director; the other would follow

naturally, and the good mother would thus be carried, as if in a litter,

without any danger of jolting. I was pleased with this idea, and we all

set to work to load ourselves each with a huge burden of reeds. They

requested me not to tell my wife, that they might give her an agreeable

surprise. It needed such affection as ours to induce us to the

undertaking in such unpropitious weather. It rained in torrents, and the

marsh was so soft and wet, that we were in danger of sinking at every

step. However, I could not be less courageous than my sons, whom nothing

daunted, and we soon made up our bundles, and, placing them on our

heads, they formed a sort of umbrella, which was not without its

benefits. We soon arrived at Falcon’s Nest. Before we reached the tree,

I saw a fire shine to such a distance, that I was alarmed; but soon

found it was only meant for our benefit by our kind friends at home.

When my wife saw the rain falling, she had instructed her little

assistant to make a fire in our usual cooking-place, at a little

distance from the tree, and protected by a canopy of waterproof cloth

from the rain. The young cook had not only kept up a good fire to dry us

on our return, but had taken the opportunity of roasting two dozen of

those excellent little birds which his mother had preserved in butter,

and which, all ranged on the old sword which served us for a spit, were

just ready on our arrival, and the fire and feast were equally grateful

to the hungry, exhausted, and wet travellers, who sat down to

enjoy them.

However, before we sat down to our repast, we went up to see our

invalids, whom we found tolerably well, though anxious for our return.

Ernest, with his sound hand, and the assistance of Francis, had

succeeded in forming a sort of _rampart_ before the opening into the

room, composed of the four hammocks in which he and his brothers slept,

placed side by side, on end. This sufficiently protected them from the

rain, but excluded the light, so that they had been obliged to light a

candle, and Ernest had been reading to his mother in a book of voyages

that had formed part of the captain’s small library. It was a singular

coincidence, that while we were talking of the savages on the way home,

they were also reading of them; and I found my dear wife much agitated

by the fears these accounts had awakened in her mind. After soothing her

terrors, I returned to the fire to dry myself, and to enjoy my repast.

Besides the birds, Francis had prepared fresh eggs and potatoes for us.

He told me that his mamma had given up her office of cook to him, and

assured me that he would perform the duties to our satisfaction,

provided he was furnished with materials. Fritz was to hunt, Jack to

fish, I was to order dinner, and he would make it ready. “And when we

have neither game nor fish,” said Jack, “we will attack your

poultry-yard.” This was not at all to the taste of poor little Francis,

who could not bear his favourites to be killed, and who had actually

wept over the chicken that was _slaughtered_ to make broth for his

mother. We were obliged to promise him that, when other resources

failed, we would apply to our barrels of salt-fish. He, however, gave us

leave to dispose as we liked of the ducks and geese, which were too

noisy for him.

After we had concluded our repast, we carried a part of it to our

friends above, and proceeded to give them an account of our expedition.

I then secured the hammocks somewhat more firmly, to save us from the

storm that was still raging, and the hour of rest being at hand, my sons

established themselves on mattresses of cotton, made by their kind

mother, and in spite of the roaring of the winds, we were soon in

profound repose.

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The Swiss Family Robinson; or Adventures in a Desert Island · 第 37 / 57 章