The family Robinson Crusoe

by Johann David Wyss

We employed ourselves the remainder of the evening in loading the cart with our tools and the two halves of the tree. Night coming on, we retired to our hut, where we enjoyed our usual repose, and early next morning were ready to return to Falcon’s Stream. Our buffalo now commenced his service, yoked with the cow; he supplied the want of the ass, and was very tractable: it is true I led him by the cord which passed through his nose, and thus I restrained him within the bounds of his duty whenever he was disposed to deviate.

We returned the same way as we came, in order to load the cart with a provision of berries, wax, and elastic gum. I gave up looking for eggs this day, as I was very desirous to get back as soon as possible to Falcon’s Stream, to look after the beasts we had left there. I sent forward Fritz and Jack as a van-guard, with one of the dogs; they were to cut a commodious and secure road through the bushes for our cart. The two water conductors, which were very long, produced numerous difficulties and somewhat impeded our progress. My sons well performed their task, and we reached with tolerable speed and without any accident the wax and gum trees, where we halted to place our sacks filled with berries in the cart. The elastic gum had not yielded as much as I expected, from the too rapid thickening caused by an ardent sun, and an incrustation formed over the incision: we obtained however about a quart, which sufficed for the experiment of the impenetrable boots I had so long desired.

We set out again, still preceded by our pioneers, who cleared the way for us through the little wood of guavas. Suddenly we heard a dreadful noise which came from our van-guard, and beheld Fritz and Jack hastening towards us. I began now to fear a tiger or panther was near at hand, or had perhaps attacked them. Turk began to bark so frightfully, and Ponto running up to him joined in so hideous a yell, that I prepared myself, not without terror, for a bloody conflict. I advanced at the head of my troop, who expressed their determination to follow me to the assistance of those I thought in danger, and my high-mettled dogs ran furiously up to a thicket, where they stopped, and with their noses to the ground and almost breathless strove to enter it: I had no doubt some terrible animal was lurking there; and Fritz, who had seen it through the leaves, confirmed my suspicion; he said it was about the size of the young buffalo, and that its hair was black and shaggy. I was going to fire at it promiscuously in the thicket, when Jack, who had thrown himself on his face on the ground to have a better view of the animal, got up in a fit of laughter—It is only, exclaimed he, dame pig, that has played us another trick—our old sow, who is never tired of playing off her tricks upon us. He had hardly spoken, when the grunting of the concealed monster justified the assertion made by Jack. Half vexed, half laughing, we broke into the midst of the thicket, where in reality we found our sow stretched supinely on the earth, but by no means in a state of dreary solitude; the good matron had round her seven little creatures, which had been littered a few days, and were sprawling about contending with each other for the best place near their mother for a hearty meal. This discovery gave us considerable satisfaction, and we all greeted the corpulent creature, who seemed to recollect and welcome us with a sociable kind of grunting, while she licked her young without any ceremony or show of fear. We rewarded her docility with potatoes, sweet acorns, and manioc bread; for the boys one and all readily consented to go without themselves for her accommodation: they felt obliged to her for the new family she had given them, and anticipated ideally the pleasure of beholding a nice crisp suckling pig before the fire. But their mother censured their greedy impatience and cruelty, in already thinking about roasting the poor animals on their very entrance into life. A general consultation took place—should this swinish family be left where we found it, or conveyed to Falcon’s Stream? Fritz voted for their being all left to run at large like the wild boars in Europe, that he might have the sport of hunting them. My wife, like a good housewife, proposed that two of them at least should be domesticated for breeding; and as to the old sow, as she was always running away, it would be better to kill her when done suckling, and she would afford a large provision of salt meat;—and her opinion was adopted. For the moment they were suffered to keep quiet possession of their retreat; we resolved to rear three of them, and allow the other four to take to the woods, where they might be hunted if they injured our plantations.

We then, so many adventures ended, pursued our road to Falcon’s Stream, and arrived there in safety and content;—so true it is, that home is always dear and sacred to the heart, and anticipated with delight. All was in due order, and our domestic animals welcomed our return in their own jargon and manner, but which did not fail to be expressive of their satisfaction in seeing us again. We threw them some of the food we knew them to be the most partial to, which they greedily accepted, and then voluntarily went back to their usual stand. It was necessary to practise a measure dictated by prudence, which was to tie up again the buffalo and jackal, to inure them by degrees to confinement; and the handsome Malabar eagle shared the same fate: Fritz deemed himself remarkably clever in placing it near the parrot on the root of a tree; he fastened it with a piece of packthread of sufficient length to allow it free motion, and uncovered its eyes: till then the bird had been tolerably quiet; but the instant it was restored to light, it fell into a species of rage that surprised us; it proudly raised its head; its feathers became ruffled, and its eye-balls seemed to whirl in their orbits and dart out vivid lightnings. All the poultry was terrified and fled; but the poor luckless parrot was too near the sanguinary creature to escape. Before we were aware of the danger, it was seized and mangled by the formidable hooked beak of the eagle in an almost inconceivably short space of time. Fritz vented his anger in loud, severe, and passionate reproaches: he would have killed the murderer on the spot, had not Ernest run up and entreated him to spare its life: Parrots, said he, we shall find in plenty, but never perhaps so beauteous, so magnificent a bird as this eagle, which, as father observes, we may train for hawking. You may too blame only yourself, continued Ernest, for the parrot’s death;—why did you uncover the eagle’s eyes? If you had consulted me, I could have told you that falconers keep them covered six weeks, till they are completely tamed. But now, brother, let me for a certain time have the care of him, let me manage the unruly fellow; he shall soon, in consequence of the methods I shall use, be as tractable and submissive as a new-born puppy; say then that you consent, I will pledge myself you shall not be disappointed.

Yes, forsooth, said Fritz, but I shall not give you my eagle neither; it is mine, and I will not part with it to anyone; I can bring it up myself, only tell me how; it will be very unkind not to teach me the way—Father, is not Ernest very ungenerous to keep his management of eagles a secret, and wanting to bring it up himself?—Ernest, by the by, had signified his refusal by a shake of the head.

Gently, gently, children, said I: Fritz, listen to a little moral fable. “A dog placed himself on a truss of straw, which he considered as his property. An ass and an ox extremely hungry entreated permission to eat some of it, as it could not serve him for food; but the surly selfish cur would not even suffer them to approach it. Envious animal, said the ox, eat thy straw, or permit it to be eaten by another; but the dog was deaf to their entreaties, and dismissed them with snarling selfishness.” Now tell me, boy, is not your conduct on this occasion similar to the selfish dog’s? You know not how to tame your eagle, you a few minutes ago would even have inflicted death upon it, and now you refuse to give it to Ernest, who promises to bring it up, because you are envious of his knowing more than you do: as he has reflected more than you on what he has read, it is but just he should wish to derive some advantage from his reading and knowledge; you cannot do less than make him a civil offer of something for his secret, if you persist in not resigning your eagle. Should Ernest after this, have the generosity to impart it without the reward, the greater will be his merit, and I shall be pleased with you both.

Right, father, replied Fritz briskly; well, I will give him my monkey if he chooses to have it.—An eagle is a more noble and heroical animal; as I found it, I mean to keep it; but you will teach me to tame it? What say you, Ernest? Do you accept my offer?

Ernest.—With all my heart; but I value the heroism you talk of, very little: I for my part prefer being learned; you shall be knight of the eagle if you think proper, and I your historiographer and poet. I will write a grand epic poem to record the splendid deeds of the knight and his eagle.

Fritz.—Poor jeering this, master Ernest! but, no matter; take the monkey, and teach me to tame my eagle: How shall I render it more docile and quiet?

Ernest.—I have read somewhere that the Caribs puff tobacco-smoke into the nostrils of the birds of prey and of the parrots they catch, until they are giddy and almost senseless;—this stupefaction over, they are no longer wild and untractable.