Having remarked a great deal of driftwood on the sands the preceding evening, it occurred to me that it would be well to get some of it and make a kind of sledge, so that the labor of fetching what we wanted from our stores at Tentholm might not fall so heavily on ourselves.
I awoke early, and roused Ernest as my assistant, wishing to encourage him to overcome his natural fault of indolence. After a little stretching and yawning, he got up cheerfully, pleased with the idea of an expedition while the others still slept. We made our way to the beach, taking with us the donkey, who drew a large broad bough, which I expected to find useful in bringing back our load.
As we went along, I remarked to Ernest that I supposed he was rather sorry for himself, and grudged leaving his cozy hammock and pleasant dreams at this untimely hour.
“Oh, father, do not laugh at my laziness! Indeed, I mean to cure myself of it. I am very glad to go with you. I intended to shoot some more of the ortolans this morning, but there will be plenty of time afterward. The boys will be shooting at them, I daresay, but I don’t expect they will have any great luck.”
“Why not, pray?” inquired I.
“I don’t believe they will know what shot to use at first, and, besides, they will most likely shoot upward at the birds and be sure to miss them, on account of the great height and thickness of the branches and foliage.”
“Well, Ernest, you certainly possess the gifts of prudence and reflection, as well as observation. These are valuable; but sudden action is so often necessary in life that I advise you to cultivate the power of instantly perceiving and deciding what must be done in cases of emergency. Presence of mind is a precious quality, which, although natural in some characters, may be acquired in a certain degree by all who train themselves to it.”
Once on the seashore, our work was quickly accomplished, for, selecting the wood I thought fit for my purpose, we laid it across the broad, leafy branch, and, with some help from us, the donkey dragged a very fair load of it homeward, with the addition of a small chest, which I raised from the sand which nearly covered it.
We heard the boys popping away at the birds as we drew near. They hastened to meet us, and inquired where we had been, looking curiously at the chest, which I allowed them to open, while I asked my wife to excuse our “absence without leave.” After submitting to her gentle reprimand, I explained my plan for a sledge, which pleased her greatly, and she already imagined it loaded with her hogshead of butter, and on its way from Tentholm to Falconhurst.
The chest proved to be merely that of a common sailor, containing his clothes, very much wetted by the sea water.
The boys exhibited an array of several dozen birds, and related, during breakfast, the various incidents of failure and success which had attended their guns. Ernest had rightfully guessed the mistakes they would make, but practice was making them perfect, and they seemed disposed to continue their sport, when their mother, assuring them that she could not use more birds than those already killed, asked if I did not think some means of snaring them might be contrived, as much powder and shot would be expended if they fired on at this rate.
Entirely agreeing with this view of the subject, I desired the lads to lay aside their guns for the present, and the younger ones readily applied themselves to making snares of the long threads drawn from the leaves of the karatas, in a simple way I taught them, while Fritz and Ernest gave me substantial assistance in the manufacture of the new sledge.
Soon after this, as Jack was setting the newly made snares among the branches, he discovered that a pair of our own pigeons were building in the tree. It was very desirable to increase our stock of these pretty birds, and I cautioned the boys against shooting near our tree while they had nests there, and also with regard to the snares, which were meant only to entrap the wild fig-eaters.
Although my sons were interested in setting the snares, they by no means approved of the new order to economize on the ammunition. No doubt they had been discussing this hardship, for little Franz came to me with a brilliant proposal of his own.
“Papa,” said he, “why should not we begin to plant some powder and shot immediately? It would be so much more useful than bare grain for the fowls.”
His brothers burst into a roar of laughter, and I must confess I found it no easy matter to keep my countenance.
“Come, Ernest,” said I, “now we have had our amusement, tell the little fellow what gunpowder really is.”
“It is not seed at all, Franz,” Ernest explained. “Gunpowder is made of charcoal, sulphur, and saltpeter, mixed cleverly together. So you see it cannot be sown like corn, any more than shot can be planted like peas and beans.”
My carpentering meantime went on apace. In order to shape my sledge with ends properly turned up in front, I had chosen wood which had been part of the bow of the vessel, and was curved in the necessary way for my purpose. Two pieces, perfectly similar, formed the sides of my sleigh, or sledge, and I simply united these strongly by fixing short bars across them. Then, when the ropes of the donkey’s harness were attached to the raised points in front, the equipage was complete and ready for use.
My attention had been for some time wholly engrossed by my work, and I only now observed that the mother and her boys had been busily plucking above two dozen of the wild birds, and were preparing to roast them, spitted in a row on a long, narrow sword blade, belonging to one of our ship’s officers.
It seemed somewhat wasteful to cook so many at once; but my wife explained that she was getting them ready for the butter cask I was going to fetch for her on the new sledge, as I had advised her to preserve them half cooked, and packed in butter. Amused at her promptitude, I could do nothing less than promise to go for her cask after dinner.
Early in the afternoon Ernest and I were ready to be off. We harnessed both cow and ass to the sledge and, accompanied by Juno, cheerfully took our departure, choosing the way by the sands, and reaching Tentholm without accident or adventure.
There unharnessing the animals, we began at once to load the sledge, not only with the butter cask but with a powder chest, a barrel of cheese, and a variety of other articles—ball, shot, tools, and Turk’s armor, which had been left behind on our last visit.
Our work had so closely engaged our attention that when we were ready to leave it and go in search of a good bathing place, we discovered that our two animals had wandered quite out of sight, having crossed the bridge to reach the good pasture beyond the river.
I sent Ernest after them, and went alone to the extremity of the bay. It terminated in bold and precipitous cliffs, which extended into the deep water, and rose abruptly, so as to form an inaccessible wall of rock and crag. Swampy ground, overgrown with large canes, intervened between me and these cliffs. I cut a large bundle of the reeds, and returned to Ernest. It was some time before I found him, comfortably extended full length on the ground near the tent, and sleeping as sound as a top, while the cow and the ass, grazing at will, were again making for the bridge.
“Get up, Ernest, you lazy fellow!” exclaimed I, much annoyed. “Why don’t you mind your business? Look at the animals! They will be over the river again!”
“No fear of that, father,” returned he, with the utmost composure. “I have taken a couple of boards off the bridge. They won’t pass the gap.”
I could not help laughing at the ingenious device by which the boy had spared himself all trouble. At the same time I observed that it is wrong to waste the precious moments in sleep when duty has to be performed. I then bade him go and collect some salt, which was wanted at home, while I went to bathe.
On coming back, much refreshed, I again missed Ernest, and began to wonder whether he was still gathering salt or whether he had lain down somewhere to finish his nap, when I heard him loudly calling:
“Father, father, I’ve caught a fish! An immense fellow he is. I can scarcely hold him, he drags the line so!”
Hastening toward the spot, I saw the boy lying in the grass, on a point of land close to the mouth of the stream, and with all his might keeping hold of a rod. The line was strained to the utmost by the frantic efforts of a very large fish, which was attempting to free itself from the hook.
I quickly took the rod from him, and giving the fish more line, led him by degrees into shallow water. Ernest ran in with his hatchet and killed him.
It proved to be a salmon of full fifteen pounds weight, and I was delighted to think of taking such a valuable prize to the mother.
“This is capital, Ernest!” cried I. “You have cleared yourself for once of the charge of laziness! Let us now carry this splendid salmon to the sledge. I will clean and pack it for the journey, that it may arrive in good condition, while you go and take a bath in the sea.”
All this being accomplished, we harnessed our beasts to the well-laden vehicle, and replacing the boards on the bridge, commenced the journey home.
We kept inland this time, and were skirting the borders of a grassy thicket when Juno suddenly left us and, plunging into the bushes, with fierce barking hunted out, right in front of us, the most singular-looking creature I ever beheld. It was taking wonderful flying leaps, apparently in a sitting posture, and got over the ground at an astonishing rate. I attempted to shoot it as it passed, but missed. Ernest, who was behind me, observed its movements very coolly, and seeing that the dog was puzzled, and that the animal, having paused, was crouching among the grass, went cautiously nearer, fired at the spot he had marked, and shot it dead.
The extraordinary appearance of this creature surprised us very much. It was as large as a sheep, its head was shaped like that of a mouse; its skin also was of a mouse color, it had long ears like a hare, and a tail like a tiger’s. The forepaws resembled those of a squirrel, but they seemed only half grown, while the hind legs were enormous, and so long that, when upright on them, the animal would look as if mounted on stilts.
For some time we stood silently wondering at the remarkable creature before us. I could not recollect to have seen or heard of any such.
“I see four sharp incisor teeth, father—two upper, and two under, as a squirrel has.”
“Ah, then he is a rodent. What rodents can you remember, Ernest?”
“I do not know them all, but there are the mouse, the marmot, the squirrel, the hare, the beaver, the jerboa!”
“The jerboa!” I exclaimed. “The jerboa! Now we shall have it. This is really very like a jerboa, only far larger. It must be a kangaroo, one of the class of animals which has a pouch or purse beneath the body, in which its young can take refuge.”
The kangaroo was added to the already heavy load on our sledge, and we proceeded slowly, arriving late at Falconhurst, but meeting with the usual bright welcome.
Very eager and inquisitive were the glances turned toward the sledge, for the load piled on it surpassed all expectation; we on our part staring in equal surprise at the extraordinary rig of the young folks who came to meet us.
One wore a long nightshirt, which, with a belt, was a Convenient length in front, but trailed behind in orthodox ghost fashion.
Another had on a very wide pair of trousers, braced up so short that each little leg looked like the clapper in a bell.
The third, buttoned up in a pea jacket which came down to his ankles, looked for all the world like a walking portmanteau.
Amid much joking and laughter, the mother explained that she had been washing all day, and while their clothes were drying the boys amused themselves by dressing up in things they found while rummaging the sailor’s chest, and had kept them on, that Ernest and I might see the masquerade. It certainly amused us, but made me regret that so little belonging to ourselves had been saved from the wreck, in consequence of which the children had scarcely a change of linen.
Turning now to our new acquisitions, we excited great interest by exhibiting each in turn. The large salmon, but more especially the kangaroo, surprised and delighted everyone.
As the shades of night approached, we made haste to conclude the day’s work by preparing the kangaroo, part for immediate use and part for salting. The animals were fed, and a plentiful allowance of salt made to them. Our own supper of broiled salmon and potatoes was dispatched with great appetite, and we retired, with thankful hearts, to sound and well-earned repose.
