Next morning all were early awake, and the children sprang about the tree like young monkeys.
“What shall we begin to do, father?” they cried. “What do you want us to do today?”
“Rest, my boys,” I replied, “rest.”
“Rest?” repeated they. “Why should we rest?”
“‘Six days shalt thou labor and do all that thou hast to do, but on the seventh, thou shalt do no manner of work.’ This is the seventh day,” I replied, “on it, therefore, let us rest.”
“What, is it really Sunday?” asked Jack. “How jolly! Oh, I won’t do any work, but I’ll take a bow and arrow and shoot, and we’ll climb about the tree and have fun all day.”
“That is not resting,” said I, “that is not the way you are accustomed to spend the Lord’s day.”
“No! But then we can’t go to church here, and there is nothing else to do.”
“We can worship here as well as at home,” said I.
“But there is no church, no clergyman, and no organ,” said Franz.
“The leafy shade of this great tree is far more beautiful than any church,” I said; “there will we worship our Creator. Come, boys, down with you; turn our dining hall into a breakfast room.”
The children, one by one, slipped down the ladder.
“My dear Elizabeth,” said I, “this morning we will devote to the service of the Lord. I will endeavor to give the children some serious thoughts. But without books, or the possibility of any of the usual Sunday occupations, we cannot keep them quiet the whole day. Afterward, therefore, I shall allow them to pursue any innocent recreation they choose, and in the cool of the evening we will take a walk.”
Our simple services being over, we separated, and each employed himself as he felt disposed.
I took some arrows and endeavored to point them with porcupine quills.
Franz came to beg me to make a little bow and arrow for him to shoot with. Jack assisted with the arrowmaking, and inserting a sharp spine at one end of each reed made it fast with pack thread and began to wish for glue to ensure its remaining firm.
“Oh, Jack! Mamma’s soup is as sticky as anything!” cried Franz. “Shall I run and ask for a cake of it?”
“No, no, little goose! Better look for some real glue in the toolbox.”
“There he will find glue, to be sure,” said I, “and the soup would scarcely have answered your purpose. But Jack, my boy, I do not like to hear you ridicule your little brother’s ideas. Some of the most valuable discoveries have been the result of thoughts which originally appeared no wiser than his.”
While thus directing and assisting my sons, we were surprised by hearing a shot just over our heads; at the same moment two small birds fell dead at our feet, and looking up, we beheld Ernest among the branches, as bending his face joyfully toward us, he cried, “A good shot, wasn’t it?”
Then slipping down the ladder, and picking up the birds, he brought them to me. One was a kind of thrush, the other a small dove called the ortolan, and esteemed as a very great delicacy on account of its exquisite flavor. As the figs on which these birds came to feed were only just beginning to ripen, it was probable that they would soon flock in numbers to our trees; and by waiting until we could procure them in large quantities, we might provide ourselves with valuable food for the rainy season, by placing them, when half cooked, in cases with melted lard or butter poured over them.
By this time Jack had pointed a good supply of arrows, and was industriously practicing archery. I finished the bow and arrows for Franz, and expected to be left in peace. But the young man next demanded a quiver, and I had to invent that also, to complete his equipment. It was easily done by stripping a piece of bark from a small tree, fitting a flat side and a bottom to it, and then a string. Attaching it to his shoulders, the youthful hunter filled it with arrows and went off; looking, as his mother said, like an innocent little Cupid, bent on conquest.
Not long after this we were summoned to dinner, and all right willingly obeyed the call.
During the meal I interested the boys very much by proposing to decide on suitable names for the different spots we had visited on this coast.
“For,” said I, “it will become more and more troublesome to explain what we mean unless we do so. Besides which we shall feel much more at home if we can talk as people do in inhabited countries. Instead of saying, for instance, ‘the little island at the mouth of our bay, where we found the dead shark,’ ‘the large stream near our tent, across which we made the bridge,’ ‘that wood where we found coconuts and caught the monkey,’ and so on. Let us begin by naming the bay in which we landed. What shall we call it?”
“Oyster Bay,” said Fritz.
“No, no! Lobster Bay,” cried Jack, “in memory of the old fellow who took a fancy to my leg!”
“I think,” observed his mother, “that, in token of gratitude for our escape, we should call it Safety Bay.”
This name met with general approbation, and was forth with fixed upon.
Other names were quickly chosen. Our first place of abode we called Tentholm; the islet in the bay, Shark Island; and the reedy swamp, Flamingo Marsh. It was some time before the serious question of a name for our leafy castle could be decided. But finally it was entitled Falconhurst; and we then rapidly named the remaining points: Prospect Hill, the eminence we first ascended; Cape Disappointment, from whose rocky heights we had strained our eyes in vain search for our ship’s company; and Jackal River, as a name for the large stream at our landing place, concluded our geographical nomenclature.
In the afternoon the boys went on with their various employments. Jack asked my assistance in carrying out his plan of making a cuirass for Turk out of the porcupine skin. After thoroughly cleansing the inside, we cut and fitted it round the body of the patient dog; then when strings were sewed on and it became tolerably dry, he was armed with this ingenious coat of mail, and a most singular figure he cut!
Juno strongly objected to his friendly approaches, and got out of his way as fast as she could. And it was clear that he would easily put to flight the fiercest animal he might encounter, while protected by armor at once defensive and offensive.
I determined to make also a helmet for Jack out of the remainder of the skin, which to his infinite delight I speedily did.
Amid these interesting occupations the evening drew on, and after a pleasant walk among the sweet glades near our abode, we closed our Sabbath day with prayer and a glad hymn of praise, retiring to rest with peaceful hearts.
Next morning I proposed an expedition to Tentholm, saying I wished to make my way thither by a different route. We left the tree well armed; I and my three elder sons each carrying a gun and game bag, while little Franz was equipped with his bow and quiver full of arrows. Their mother and I walked together. She, of the whole party, being the only one unarmed, carried a jar in which to get butter from Tentholm.
We were preceded by the dogs—Turk, armed most effectually with his cuirass of porcupine skin, and Juno, keeping at a respectful distance from so formidable a Companion. Master Knips fully intended to mount his charger as usual; but when he saw him arrayed apparently in a new skin, he approached him carefully, and touching him with one paw, discovered that such a hide would make anything but an agreeable seat. The grimace he made was most comical, and chattering vociferously he bounded toward Juno, skipped on her back, seated himself, and soon appeared perfectly reconciled to the change of steed.
We strolled on in the cool air, following the course of the stream. The great trees overshadowed us, and the cool, green sward stretched away between them at our feet. The boys roamed ahead of me, intent on exploration. Presently I heard a joyful shout, and saw Ernest running at full speed toward me, followed by his brothers. In his hand he held a plant, and, panting for breath, and with sparkling eyes, he held it up to me.
“Potatoes! Potatoes, father!” he gasped out.
“Yes,” said Jack, “acres and acres of potatoes!”
“My dear Ernest,” said I, for there was no mistaking the flower and leaf, and the light clear-green bulbous roots, “you have indeed made a discovery. With the potato we shall never starve.”
“But come and look at them,” said Jack, “come and feast your eyes on thousands of potatoes.”
We hurried to the spot: there, spread out before us, was a great tract of ground covered with the precious plant.
“It would have been rather difficult,” remarked Jack, “not to have discovered such a great field.”
“Very likely,” replied Ernest, smiling; “but I doubt if you would have discovered that it was a potato field.”
“Perhaps not,” said Jack. “You are quite welcome, at all events, to the honor of the discovery. I’ll have the honor of being the first to get a supply of them.” So saying, he dug up, with hands and knife, a number of plants, and filled his game bag with the roots. The monkey followed his example, and scratching away with his paws most cleverly, soon had a heap beside him. So delighted were we with the discovery, and so eager were we to possess a large supply of the tubers, that we did not stop digging until every bag, pouch, and pocket was filled. Some wished to return at once to Falconhurst, to cook and taste our new acquisition; but this I overruled, and we continued our march, heavily laden, but delighted.
At length we reached the head of our streamlet, where it fell from the rocks above in a beautiful, sparkling, splashing cascade. We crossed and entered the tall grass on the other side. We forced our way through with difficulty, so thick and tangled were the reeds.
Beyond this, the landscape was most lovely. Rich tropical vegetation flourished on every side: the tall, stately palms, surrounded by luxuriant ferns; brilliant flowers and graceful creepers; the prickly cactus, shooting up amid them; aloe, jasmine, and sweet-scented vanilla; the Indian pea, and above all the regal pineapple, loaded the breath of the evening breeze with their rich perfume. The boys were delighted with the pineapple, and showing Knips what they wanted, they sent him after the ripest and best fruit.
While they were thus employed, I examined the other shrubs and bushes. Among these I presently noticed one which I knew to be karatas.
“Come here, boys,” I said; “here is something of far more value than your pineapples. Do you see that plant with long pointed leaves and beautiful red flower? That is the karatas. The filaments of the leaves make capital thread, while the leaves themselves, bruised, form an invaluable salve. The pith of this wonderful plant may be used either for tinder or as bait for fish. Suppose, Ernest, you had been wrecked here, how would you have made a fire without matches, or flint and steel?”
“As the savages do,” replied he; “I would rub two pieces of wood together until they kindled.”
“Try it,” I said; “but, if you please, try it when you have a whole day before you, and no other work to be done, for I am certain it would be night before you accomplish the feat. But see here,” and I broke a dry twig from the karatas, and peeling off the bark, laid the pith upon a stone. I struck a couple of pebbles over it, and they emitting a spark, the pith caught fire.
The boys were delighted with the experiment. I then drew some of the threads from the leaves, and presented them to my wife.
We at length reached Tentholm. Everything was safe, and we set to work to collect what we wanted. I opened the butter cask, from which my wife filled her pot. Fritz saw after the ammunition, and Jack and Ernest ran down to the beach to capture the geese and ducks. This they found no easy matter, for the birds, left so long alone, were shy, and nothing would induce them to come on shore and be caught.
Ernest finally hit upon an ingenious plan. He took some pieces of cheese, and tied them to long strings. This bait he threw into the water, and the hungry ducks instantly made a grab at it; then with a little skillful maneuvering he drew them on shore. While Jack and he were thus busily employed catching and tying the rebels together by the feet, we procured a fresh supply of salt, which we packed upon Turk’s back, first relieving him of his coat of mail. The birds we fastened to our game bags, and carefully closing the door of our tent, started homeward by the seashore.
After a cheerful and pleasant walk, we once more reached our woodland abode. I released the birds and, clipping their wings to prevent their leaving us, established them on the stream. Then, after a delicious supper of potatoes, milk, and butter, we ascended our tree and turned in.
