“I have a plan for making it,” said Fritz, who never saw a difficulty in anything. “I know it is composed of charcoal, saltpetre, and sulphur—and we ought to find all these materials in the island. It is only necessary to combine them, and to form it into little round grains. This is my only difficulty; but I will consider it over; and I have my mill to think on first. I have a confused recollection of a powder manufactory at Berne: there was some machinery which went by water; this machinery moved some hammers, which pounded and mixed the ingredients—was not this the case, father?”
“Something like it,” said I; “but we have many things to do before making powder. First, we must go to sleep; we must set out before daybreak, if we intend to return to-morrow evening.” We did indeed rise before the sun, which would not rise for us. The sky was very cloudy, and shortly we had an abundant and incessant rain, which obliged us to defer our journey, and put us all in bad humour, but my wife, who was not sorry to keep us with her, and who declared this gracious rain would water her garden, and bring it forward. Fritz was the first who consoled himself; he thought on nothing but building mills, and manufacturing gunpowder. He begged me to draw him a mill; this was very easy, so far as regards the exterior,—that is, the wheel, and the waterfall that sets it in motion; but the interior,—the disposition of the wheels, the stones to bruise the grain, the sieve, or bolter, to separate the flour from the bran; all this complicated machinery was difficult to explain; but he comprehended all, adding his usual expression,—“I will try, and I shall succeed.” Not to lose any time, and to profit by this rainy day, he began by making sieves of different materials, which he fastened to a circle of pliant wood, and tried by passing through them the flour of the cassava; he made some with sailcloth, others with the hair of the onagra, which is very long and strong, and some of the fibres of bark. His mother admired his work, which he continued to improve more and more; she assured him the sieve would be sufficient for her; it was useless to have the trouble of building a mill.
“But how shall we bruise the grain, mamma?” said he; “it would be tedious and hard work.”
“And you think there will be no hard work in building your mill?” said Jack. “I am curious to see how you will contrive to form that huge stone, which is called the millstone.”
“You shall see,” said Fritz; “only find me the stone, and it shall soon be done. Do you think, father, that of our rock would be suitable?”
I told him I thought it would be hard enough, but it would be difficult to cut from the rock a piece large enough for the purpose. He made his usual reply,— “I will try. Ernest and Jack will assist me; and perhaps you, papa.”
I declared my willingness, but named him the master-mason; we must only be his workmen. Francis was impatient to see the mill in operation. “Oh!” said Jack, “you shall soon have that pleasure. It is a mere trifle; we only want stone, wood, tools, and science.”
At the word “science,” Ernest, who was reading in a corner, without listening to us, raised his head suddenly, saying,— “What science are you in need of?”
“Of one you know nothing of, Mr. Philosopher,” said Jack. “Come, tell us, do you know how to build a mill?”
“A mill?” answered Ernest; “of what description? There are many sorts. I was just looking in my dictionary for it. There are corn-mills, and powder-mills, oil-mills, wind-mills, water-mills, hand-mills, and saw-mills; which do you want?”