We should have been badly off without the shelter of our tent, for the night proved as cold as the day had been hot, but we managed to sleep comfortably, everyone being thoroughly fatigued by the labors of the day. The voice of our vigilant cock, which, as he loudly saluted the rising moon, was the last sound I heard at night, roused me at daybreak, and I then awoke my wife, that in the quiet interval while yet our children slept, we might take counsel together on our situation and prospects. It was plain to both of us that, in the first place, we should ascertain if possible the fate of our late companions, and then examine into the nature and resources of the country on which we were stranded.
We therefore came to the resolution that, as soon as we had breakfasted, Fritz and I should start on an expedition with these objects in view, while my wife remained near our landing place with the three younger boys.
Rouse up, rouse up, my boys,” cried I, awakening the children cheerfully. “Come and help your mother to get breakfast ready.”
“As to that,” said she, smiling, “we can but set on the pot, and boil some more soup!”
“Why, you forget Jack’s fine lobster!” replied I. ‘What has become of it, Jack?”
“It has been safe in this hole in the rock all night, father. You see, I thought, as the dogs seem to like good things, they might take a fancy to that, as well as to the agouti.”
“A very sensible precaution,” remarked I. “I believe even my heedless Jack will learn wisdom in time. It is well the lobster is so large, for we shall want to take part with us on our excursion today.”
At the mention of an excursion, the four children were wild with delight, and capering around me, clapped their hands for joy.
“Steady there, steady!” said I. “You cannot expect all to go. Such an expedition as this would be too dangerous and fatiguing for you younger ones. Fritz and I will go alone this time, with one of the dogs, leaving the other to defend you.
We then armed ourselves, each taking a gun and a game bag; Fritz in addition sticking a pair of pistols in his belt, and I a small hatchet in mine. Breakfast being over, we stowed away the remainder of the lobster and some biscuits, with a flask of water, and were ready for a start.
“Stop!” I exclaimed. “We have still left something very important undone.”
Surely not, said Fritz.
“Yes,” said I, “we have not yet joined in morning prayer. We are only too ready, amid the cares and pleasures of this life, to forget the God to whom we owe all things.” Then having commended ourselves to His protecting care, I took leave of my wife and children, and bidding them not wander far from the boat and tent, we parted not with out some anxiety on either side, for we knew not what might assail us in this unknown region.
We now found that the banks of the stream were on both sides so rocky that we could get down to the stream by only one narrow passage, and there was no corresponding path on the other side. I was glad to see this, however, for I now knew that my wife and children were on a comparatively inaccessible spot, the other side of the tent being protected by steep and precipitous cliffs.
Fritz and I pursued our way up the stream until we reached a point where the waters fell from a considerable height in a cascade, and where several large rocks lay half covered by the water. By means of these we succeeded in crossing the stream in safety. We thus had the sea on our left, and a long line of rocky heights, here and there adorned with clumps of trees, stretching away inland to the right. We had forced our way scarcely fifty yards through the long rank grass, which was here partly withered by the sun and much tangled, when we heard behind us a rustling, and on looking round saw the grass waving to and fro, as if some animal were passing through it.
Fritz instantly turned and brought his gun to his shoulder, ready to fire the moment the beast should appear. I was much pleased with my son’s coolness and presence of mind, for it showed me that I might thoroughly rely upon him on any future occasion when real danger might occur. This time, however, no savage beast rushed out, but our trusty dog Turk, whom in our anxiety at parting we had forgotten, and who had been sent after us, doubtless, by my thoughtful wife.
From this little incident, however, we saw how dangerous was our position, and how difficult escape would be should any fierce beast steal upon us unawares. We therefore hastened to make our way to the open seashore. Here the scene which presented itself was indeed delightful. A background of hills, the green waving grass, the pleasant groups of trees stretching here and there to the very water’s edge, formed a lovely prospect. On the smooth sand we searched carefully for any trace of our hapless companions, but not the mark of a footstep could we find.
“Shall I fire a shot or two?” said Fritz. “That would bring our companions, if they are within hearing.”
“It would indeed,” I said, “or any savages that may be here. No, no; let us search diligently, but as quietly as possible.”
“But why, father, should we trouble ourselves about them at all? They left us to shift for ourselves, and I for one don’t care to set eyes on them again.”
“You are wrong, my boy,” said I. “In the first place, we should not return evil for evil; then, again, they might be of great assistance to us in building a house of some sort; and lastly, you must remember that they took nothing with them from the vessel, and may be perishing of hunger.
Thus talking, we pushed on until we came to a pleasant grove which stretched down to the water’s edge; here we halted to rest, seating ourselves under a large tree, by a rivulet which murmured and splashed along its pebbly bed into the great ocean before us. A thousand gaily plumaged birds flew twittering above us, and Fritz and I gazed up at them.
My son suddenly started up.
“A monkey!” he exclaimed. “I am nearly sure I saw a monkey.”
As he spoke he sprang round to the other side of the tree, and in doing so stumbled over a round substance, which he handed to me, remarking, as he did so, that it was a round bird’s nest, of which he had often heard.
“You may have done so,” said I, laughing, “but you need not necessarily conclude that every round hairy thing is a bird’s nest; this, for instance, is not one, but a coconut.”
We split open the nut, but, to our disgust, found the kernel dry and uneatable.
“Hullo,” cried Fritz, “I always thought a coconut was full of delicious sweet liquid, like almond milk.”
“So it is,” I replied, “when young and fresh, but as it ripens the milk becomes congealed, and in course of time is solidified into a kernel. This kernel then dries as you see here, but when the nut falls on favorable soil, the germ within the kernel swells until it bursts through the shell, and, taking root, springs up a new tree.”
I do not understand,” said Fritz, “how the little germ manages to get through this great thick shell, which is not like an almond or hazelnut shell, that is divided down the middle already.”
“Nature provides for all things,” I answered, taking up the pieces. “Look here, do you see these three round holes near the stalk? It is through them that the germ obtains egress. Now let us find a good nut if we can.”
As coconuts must be overripe before they fall naturally from the tree, it was not without difficulty that we obtained one in which the kernel was not dried up. When we succeeded, however, we were so refreshed by the fruit that we could defer the repast we called our dinner until later in the day, and so spare our stock of provisions.
Continuing our way through a thicket, which was so densely overgrown with lianas that we had to clear a passage with our hatchets, we again emerged on the seashore beyond, and found an open view, the forest sweeping inland? while on the space before us stood at intervals single trees of remarkable appearance.
These at once attracted Fritz’s observant eye, and he pointed to them, exclaiming:
“Oh, what absurd-looking trees, father! See what strange bumps there are on the trunks.”
We approached to examine them, and I recognized them as calabash trees, the fruit of which grows in this curious way on the stems, and is a species of gourd, from the hard rind of which bowls, spoons, and bottles can be made. “The savages,” I remarked, “are said to form these things most ingeniously, using them to contain liquids: indeed, they actually cook food in them.”
“Oh, but that is impossible,” returned Fritz. “I am quite sure this rind would be burnt through directly it was set on the fire.”
“I did not say it was set on the fire at all. When the gourd has been divided in two, and the shell or rind emptied of its contents, it is filled with water, into which the fish, or whatever is to be cooked, is put. Red-hot stones are added until the water boils; the food becomes fit to eat, and the gourd rind remains uninjured.”
“That is a very clever plan: very simple too. I daresay I should have hit on it if I had tried,” said Fritz.
“The friends of Columbus thought it very easy to make an egg stand upon its end when he had shown them how to do it. But now suppose we prepare some of these calabashes, that they may be ready for use when we take them home.”
Fritz instantly took up one of the gourds and tried to split it equally with his knife, but in vain: the blade slipped, and the calabash was cut jaggedly. “What a nuisance!” said Fritz, flinging it down.
“Stay,” said I; “you are too impatient, those pieces are not useless. Do you try to fashion from them a spoon or two while I provide a dish.”
I then took from my pocket a piece of string, which I tied tightly round a gourd, as near one end of it as I could; then tapping the string with the back of my knife, it penetrated the outer shell. When this was accomplished, I tied the string yet tighter; and drawing the ends with all my might, the gourd fell, divided exactly as I wished.
“That is clever!” cried Fritz. “What in the world put that plan into your head?”
“It is a plan,” I replied, “which the Negroes adopt, as I have learned from reading books of travel.”
“Well, it certainly makes a capital soup tureen, and a soup plate too,” said Fritz, examining the gourd. “But supposing you had wanted to make a bottle, how would you have set to work?”
“It would be an easier operation than this, if possible. All that is necessary is to cut a round hole at one end, then to scoop out the interior, and to drop in several shot or stones: when these are shaken, any remaining portions of the fruit are detached, and the gourd is thoroughly cleaned, and the bottle completed.”
“That would not make a very convenient bottle though, father; it would be more like a barrel.”
“True, my boy. If you want a more shapely vessel, you must take it in hand when it is younger. To give it a neck, for instance, you must tie a bandage round the young gourd while it is still on the tree, and then all will swell but that part which you have checked.”
As I spoke, I filled the gourds with sand, and left them to dry; marking the spot that we might return for them on our way back.
For three hours or more we pushed forward, keeping a sharp lookout on either side for any trace of our companions, till we reached a bold promontory, stretching some way into the sea, from whose rocky summit I knew that we should obtain a good and comprehensive view of the surrounding country.
With little difficulty we reached the top, but the most careful survey of the beautiful landscape failed to show us the slightest sign or trace of human beings. Before us stretched a wide and lovely bay, fringed with yellow sands, either side extending into the distance, and almost lost to view in two shadowy promontories. Enclosed by these two arms lay a sheet of rippling water, which reflected in its depths the glorious sun above. The scene inland was no less beautiful; and yet Fritz and I both felt a shade of loneliness stealing over us as we gazed on its utter solitude.
“Cheer up, Fritz, lad,” said I presently. “Remember that we chose a settler’s life long ago, before we left our own dear country. We certainly did not expect to be so entirely alone—but what matters a few people, more or less? With God’s help, let us endeavor to live here contentedly, thankful that we were not cast upon some bare and inhospitable island. But come, the heat here is getting unbearable; let us find some shady place before we are completely broiled away.”
We descended the hill and made for a clump of palm trees which we saw at a little distance. To reach this we had to pass through a dense thicket of reeds, no pleasant or easy task; for, besides the difficulty of forcing our way through, I feared at every step that we might tread on some venomous snake. Sending Turk in advance, I cut one of the reeds, thinking it would be a more useful weapon against a reptile than my gun.
I had carried it but a little way when I noticed a thick juice exuding from one end. I tasted it, and to my delight found it sweet and pleasant. I at once knew that I was standing amongst sugar canes. Wishing Fritz to make the same discovery, I advised him to cut a cane for his defense; he did so, and as he beat the ground before him, the reed split, and his hand was covered with the juice. He carefully touched the cane with the tip of his tongue, then, finding the juice sweet, he did so again with less hesitation; and a moment afterward sprang back to me exclaiming:
“Oh, father, sugar canes! Sugar canes! Taste it. Oh, how delicious, how delightful! Do let us take a lot home to mother,” he continued, sucking eagerly at the cane.
“Gently there,” said I, “take breath a moment; moderation in all things, remember. Cut some to take home if you like, only don’t take more than you can conveniently carry.
In spite of my warning, my son cut a dozen or more of the largest canes, and stripping them of their leaves, carried them under his arm. We then pushed through the canebrake, and reached the clump of palms for which we had been making. As we entered it a troop of monkeys, which had been disporting themselves on the ground, sprang up, chattering and grimacing, and before we could clearly distinguish them were at the very top of the trees.
Fritz was so provoked by their impertinent gestures that he raised his gun and would have shot one of the poor beasts.
“Stay,” cried I, “never take the life of any animal needlessly. A live monkey up in that tree is of more use to us than a dozen dead ones at our feet, as I will show you.”
Saying this, I gathered a handful of small stones and threw them up toward the apes. The stones did not go near them, but influenced by their instinctive mania for imitation, they instantly seized all the coconuts within their reach, and sent a perfect hail of them down upon us.
Fritz was delighted with my stratagem, and rushing forward picked up some of the finest of the nuts. We drank the milk they contained, drawing it through the holes, which I pierced, and then, splitting the nuts open with the hatchet, ate the cream which lined their shells. After this delicious meal, we thoroughly despised the lobster we had been carrying, and threw it to Turk, who ate it gratefully. But far from being satisfied, the poor beast began to gnaw the ends of the sugar canes, and to beg for coconut. I slung a couple of the nuts over my shoulder, fastening them together by their stalks, and Fritz having resumed his burden, we began our homeward march.
