The idea of candlemaking seemed to have taken the fancy of all the boys; and next morning they woke, one after the other, with the word “candle” on their lips. When they were thoroughly roused they continued to talk candles. All during breakfast time, candles were the subject of conversation; and after breakfast they would hear of nothing else but setting to work at once and making candles.
“So be it,” said I; “let us become chandlers.”
I spoke confidently, but to tell the truth I had in my own mind certain misgivings as to the result of our experiment. In the first place, I knew that we lacked a very important ingredient—animal fat, which is necessary to make candles burn for any length of time with brilliancy. Besides this, I rather doubted how far my memory would recall the various operations necessary in the manufacture.
Of all this, however, I said nothing. And the boys, under my direction, were soon at work. We first picked off the berries and threw them into a large shallow iron vessel placed on the fire. The green, sweet-scented wax was rapidly melted, rising to the surface of the juice yielded by the berries. This we skimmed off and placed in a separate pot by the fire, ready for use; repeating the operation several times, until we had collected sufficient liquid wax for our purpose.
I then took the wicks my wife had prepared, and dipped them one after the other into the wax, handing them as I did so to Fritz, who hung them up on a bush to dry. The coating they thus obtained was not very thick; but, by repeating the operation several times, they at length assumed very fair proportions, and became real sturdy candles. Our wax being at an end, we hung these in a cool, shady place to harden. And that same night we sat up like civilized beings three whole hours after sunset, and Falconhurst was for the first time brilliantly illuminated.
With my sons’ assistance we decided to turn our faithful sledge into a cart. The cart was in time completed; a clumsy vehicle it was, but strong enough for any purpose to which we might put it, and, as it proved, of immense use to us in collecting the harvest.
We then turned our attention to our fruit trees, which we had planted in a plot ready for transplanting. The walnut, cherry, and chestnut trees we arranged in parallel rows, so as to form a shady avenue from Falconhurst to Family Bridge. And between them we laid down a tolerable road, that we might have no difficulty in reaching Tentholm, be the weather bad as it might. We planted the vines round the arched roots of our great mangrove, and the rest of the trees in suitable spots: some near Falconhurst, and others on the other side of Jackal River, to adorn Tentholm.
Tentholm had been the subject of serious thoughts to me for some time past, and I now turned all my attention thither. It was not my ambition to make it beautiful, but to form of it a safe place of refuge in case of emergency. My first care, therefore, was to plant a thick, prickly hedge capable of protecting us from any wild animal and forming a tolerable obstacle to the attack of even savages, should they appear. Not satisfied with this, however, we fortified the bridge, and on a couple of hillocks mounted two guns which we brought from the wreck, and with whose angry mouths we might bark defiance at any enemy, man or beast.
Six weeks slipped away while we were thus busily occupied, six weeks of hard, yet pleasant, labor. I soon saw that this hard work was developing in the boys remarkable strength, and this I encouraged by making them practice running, leaping, climbing, and swimming.
I also saw, however, that it was having a less satisfactory effect upon their clothes, which, though a short time before remarkably neat, were now, in spite of the busy mother’s mending and patching, most untidy and disreputable. I determined, therefore, to pay another visit to the wreck, to replenish our wardrobe and to see how much longer the vessel was likely to hold together. Three of the boys and I went off in the pinnace. The old ship seemed in much the same condition as when we had left her. A few more planks had gone, but that was all.
“Come, boys,” cried I, “not an article of the slightest value must be left on board. Rummage her out to the very bottom of her hold.”
They took me at my word. Sailors’ chests, bales of cloth and linen, a couple of small guns, ball and shot, tables, benches, window shutters, bolts and locks, barrels of pitch, all were soon in a heap on the deck. We loaded the pinnace and went ashore. We soon returned with our tub boat in tow, and after a few more trips nothing was left on board.
“One more trip,” said I to my wife, before we started again, “and there will be the end of the brave ship which carried us from Switzerland. I have left two barrels of gunpowder on board and mean to blow her up.”
Before we lighted the fusee, I discovered a large copper caldron which I thought I might save. I made fast to it a couple of empty casks, that when the ship went up it might float. The barrels were placed, the train lighted, and we returned on shore.
Supper was laid outside the tent, at a spot from which we might obtain a good view of the wreck. Darkness came on. Suddenly a vivid pillar of fire rose from the black waters, a sullen roar boomed across the sea, and we knew that our good old ship was no more.
We had planned the destruction of the vessel; we knew that it was for the best. And yet that night we went to bed with a feeling of sadness in our hearts, as though we had lost a dear old friend.
Next morning all our sadness was dispelled, and it was with pleasure that we saw the shore lined with a rich store of planks and beams, the remnants of the wreck. I soon found, too, the copper caldron, which was successfully floated by the casks. This I got on shore, and hauling it up among the rocks, stored under it the powder casks we had landed the day before. Collecting all these valuables gave us some little trouble, and while we were thus engaged my wife brought us good news. She had discovered that two ducks and a goose had each reared a large family among the reeds by the river; and they presently appeared waddling past us, apparently vastly well pleased with their performance. We greeted them joyfully.
“Hurrah!” cried Ernest. “We’ll be able to afford duck and green peas someday soon, and imagine we’re once more civilized mortals.”
The sight of these birds reminded me of our family at Falconhurst, and I announced my intention of paying them a visit.
Everyone was delighted and everyone would come with me. As we approached Falconhurst I noticed that several young trees in our avenue were considerably bent by the wind, and this resolved me to make an expedition next day to cut bamboos for their support.
Early the next morning we started, bringing with us the cart, drawn by the cow and ass, and laden with everything necessary for an expedition of several days—a tent, provisions, a large supply of ammunitions, and all sorts of implements and utensils. It was a lovely morning, and passing gaily through the plantations of potatoes, manioc, and cassavas, we reached the wax trees, and there I called a halt, for I wished to gather a sack or two of the berries that we might renew our stock of candles. The berries were soon plucked; and I stored them away among the bushes, marking the spot that we might find them on our return.
“Now for the caoutchouc tree,” said I; “now for the waterproof boots and leggings to keep your feet dry, Ernest.” To the caoutchouc tree we directed our steps, and were soon busily engaged in stabbing the bark and placing vessels beneath to catch the sap. We again moved forward; and, crossing the palm wood, entered upon a delightful plain bounded on one side by an extensive field of waving sugar cane, on the other by a thicket of bamboos and lovely palms, while in front stretched the shining sea, calm and noiseless.
“How beautiful!” exclaimed Jack. “Let us pitch our tent here and stay here always instead of living at Falconhurst. It would be jolly.”
“Very likely,” replied I, “and so would be the attacks of wild beasts. Imagine a great tiger lying in wait in the thicket yonder, and pouncing out on us at night. No, no, thank you, I much prefer our nest in the tree or our impregnable position at Tentholm. We must make this our headquarters for the present, however; for, though perhaps dangerous, it is the most convenient spot we shall find. Call a halt and pitch the tent.”
Our beasts were quickly unyoked, the tent arranged, a large fire lit, supper started, and we dispersed in various directions, some to cut bamboos, and some to collect sugar cane. We then returned; and, as supper was still not ready and the boys were hungry, they decided to obtain some coconuts. This time, however, no assistance was to be had from either monkeys or land crabs, and they gazed up with longing eyes at the fruit above them.
“We can climb,” said Fritz. “Up with you, boys.”
Jack and he each rushed at one of the smooth, slippery trunks. Right vigorously they struggled upward, but to no purpose. Before they had accomplished a quarter of the distance they found themselves slipping rapidly to the ground.
“Here, you young athletes,” cried I, “I foresaw this difficulty, and have provided for it.” So saying I held up buskins of shark’s skin which I had previously prepared, and which I now bound on to their legs. Thus equipped they again attempted the ascent, and with a loop of rope passed round their body and the trunk of the tree, quickly reached the summit. My wife joined me, and together we watched the boys as they ascended tree after tree, throwing down the best fruit from each.
They then returned and jestingly begged Ernest to produce the result of his labor. The professor had been lying on the grass gazing at the palms; but, on this sarcastic remark, he sprang to his feet. “Willingly,” he exclaimed, and seizing a pair of buskins, he quickly donned them.
“Give me a coconut shell,” said he. I gave him one, and he put it in his pocket.
He ran to a tree, and, with an agility which surprised us all, quickly reached the top. No sooner had he done so than Fritz and Jack burst into a roar of laughter. He had swarmed a tree which bore no nuts. Ernest apparently heard them; for, as it seemed in a fit of anger, he drew his knife and severed the leafy crest, which fell to the ground. I glanced up at him, surprised at such a display of temper. But a bright smile greeted me, and in a merry tone he shouted:
“Jack, pick that palm cabbage up and take it to your father. That is only half my contribution, and it is worth all your nuts put together.”
He spoke truly. The cabbage palm is rare, and the tuft of leaves at its summit is greatly prized by the South Americans for its great delicacy and highly nutritive qualities.
“Bravo!” I cried. “You have retrieved your reputation. Come down and receive the thanks of the company. What are you waiting up there for?”
“I am coming presently,” he replied, “with the second half of my contribution.”
In a short time he slipped down the tree, and, advancing to his mother, presented her with the nutshell he had taken up with him.
“Here,” he said, “taste it, mother.”
The shell was filled with a clear, rosy liquor, bright and sparkling. My wife tasted it. “Excellent, excellent,” she exclaimed. “Your very good health, my dear boy!”
We drank the rosy wine in turn, and Ernest received hearty thanks from all.
