The family Robinson Crusoe

by Johann David Wyss

Mother.—If I had the choice, I would give it back its liberty: most likely it has young ones which stand in need of its assistance.

Father.—For this once, my dear, the kindness of your heart misleads you; the poor bird, being wounded, would perish if set at liberty, for want of care. If, when I have examined its wound, I find it too serious to admit of cure, I shall kill it, and thus secure an excellent dish. But if the wound is slight, we shall have gained for our poultry yard a bird of rare value on account of its size, and which will, it may be hoped, attract its mate, and thus furnish us with a brood of its species: should it even happen that it has at this time a young brood, it is not improbable that they will find the way to take care of themselves, for no doubt, like chickens, they were able to run as soon as they came out of the egg.

While conversing on this subject I had been fixing the bustard on the sledge, taking care to place it in such a posture as to be the least painful, and to avoid exciting it to struggle against its fetters. We then pursued our way towards the wood where Fritz and I had seen such troops of monkeys, who in their spite thought to beat us from the field by assailing us with showers of cocoa-nuts. Fritz now again repeated the adventure with much humour to his mother. During this recital, Ernest was employed in going a little from us in every direction, in admiration of the height and beauty of the trees: he stopped in ecstasy at the sight of one in particular which stood alone, gazing with rapturous wonder at the prodigious distance from the root to the nearest bunches of cocoa-nuts, which he saw hanging in clusters under their crown of leaves, and which excited an eager desire to possess some of them. I glided behind him without his perceiving me, and was highly amused with the expression of his features: at length he drew a deep sigh and uttered these words:—Heavens! What a height!

Father.—Yes, my Ernest, they are indeed at a most unaccommodating height, and not a monkey in the way to throw them down to you! Even were I to set Knips at liberty, besides that he is not in the habit of giving away what he might keep for himself, he would perhaps take it into his head to stay in the tree when once there, so fond is every creature that lives of liberty! It is really a pity, and I am sure you are of my opinion, that those fine cocoa-nuts cannot find a way to drop down into your mouth.

Ernest.—No indeed, father, this is not the case; I have no great mind to them, I assure you; they are too hard, and would fall from too great a height: I should expect to have a tooth or two knocked out at least.

Scarcely had he ended his sentence, when a nut of the very largest size fell down. Ernest, alarmed, stepped aside, and looked up at the tree: another fell, and almost near enough to touch me; so that I was no less surprised than he, not being able to imagine the cause of the phenomenon. Not the smallest sign of a living creature appeared, and I was certain that cocoa-nuts never fall of themselves, but when in a state of over-ripeness, while those were absolutely hard and immature.

Ernest.—This is somewhat like the adventures of Fairy-land, father, I think—No sooner do the personages form a wish, than it is granted.

Father.—I begin indeed to think so. However, it may be that the magician who is so ready to oblige us, may lie concealed behind some of the leaves in the tree in the form of a wicked little monkey, which all the time may not intend so much to do us a favour, as to drive us from the place.

Ernest now ventured to take up the nuts. We found them even too unripe to be made use of, and were more than ever at a loss to account for their falling from the tree, round which we continually paced, endeavouring to explain the mystery. In vain, however, we strained our eyes; we saw nothing, but now and then a slight motion of the leaves: but neither bird nor beast appeared; and not a breath of wind was stirring.

Fritz had by this time concluded his narration to his mother; and observing that Ernest and I seemed occupied by something of a perplexing kind, and looked up repeatedly at one tree, he supposed we must have discovered some animal in it, and ran to have his share of the adventure, bringing also his younger brothers. We told him what had passed:—he shewed us that he had the eyes of a lynx. I shall soon, said he, see what it all means, raising his face to gaze at the tree; if one would but fall at this moment, I would soon tell you who threw it.—At the very instant two nuts fell, and so near to the speaker as to bruise his lip and his chin. Ernest could not refrain from laughing heartily. The magician is at least polite, said he; he conducts his gifts to your very mouth; and it is no fault of his if the dimensions of yours are not large enough to receive it:—but look, look, there are two more falling close to our mother and Francis. How well-behaved this magician shows himself;—In proportion as the guests increase, he takes care to send one for each. Let us quickly open one of them and refresh ourselves with the liquor it contains, in drinking to the health of our unknown friend. We did so; and each obtained a small quantity of the milk, in the fragments of the shell; and all called out together as they drank it, looking up at the tree, Long life and thanks to the good magician!—Ah, ah, I see him; there he is, exclaimed Jack. Oh, heavens! what a hideous creature! what an ugly shape he has! he is as large as my hat, and has two monstrous pincer claws.