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mother

so cleverly that she induced her to return to the eggs, and in a few

days, to our great delight, we had fifteen beautiful little Canadian

chicks.

 

Franz was greatly pleased with the β€˜swords’ his brother brought him;

but having no small companion on whom to exercise his valour, he amused

himself for a short time in hewing down imaginary foes, and then cut

the reeds in slips, and plaited them to form a whip for Lightfoot.

 

The leaves seemed so pliable and strong, that I examined them to see to

what further use they might be put. Their tissue was composed of long

silky fibres. A sudden thought struck meβ€”this must be New Zealand

flax. I could not rest till I had announced this invaluable discovery

to my wife. She was no less delighted than I was.

 

`Bring me the leaves!’ she exclaimed. `Oh, what a delightful

discovery! No one shall now be clothed in rags; just make me a

spindle, and you shall soon have shirts and stockings and trousers, all

good homespun! Quick, Fritz, and bring your mother more leaves!’

 

We could not help smiling at her eager zeal; but Fritz and Ernest

sprang on their steeds, and soon the onager and buffalo were galloping

home again, each laden with a great bundle of flax. The boys dismounted

and deposited their offering at their mother’s feet.

 

`Capital!’ she exclaimed. `I shall now show you that I am not at all

behindhand in ingenuity. This must be retted, carded, spun and woven,

and then with scissors, needle and thread I will make you any article

of clothing you choose.’

 

We decided that Flamingo Marsh would be the best spot for the

operation of steeping or `retting’ the flax, and next morning we set

out thither; the cart drawn by the ass, and laden with the bundles,

between which sat Franz and Knips, while the rest of us followed with

spades and hatchets.

 

I described to my boys as we went along the process of retting, and

explained to them how steeping the flax leaves destroys the useless

membrane, while the strong fibres remain.

 

As we were employed in making beds for the flax and placing it in

them, we observed several nests of the flamingo. These are most

curiously and skilfully made of glutinous clay, so strong that they can

neither be overturned nor washed away. They are formed in the shape of

blunted cones, and placed point downwards; at the upper and broader end

is built a little platform to contain the eggs, on which the female

bird sits, with her long legs in the water on either side, until the

little birds are hatched and can take to the water.

 

For a fortnight we left the flax to steep, and then taking it out and

drying it thoroughly in the sun, stored it for future use at

Falconhurst.

 

Daily did we load our cart with provisions to be brought to our

winter-quarters: manioc, potatoes, cocoanuts, sweet acorns,

sugarcanes, were all collected and stored in abundanceβ€”for grumbling

thunder, lowering skies, and sharp showers warned us that we had no

time to lose. Our corn was sowed, our animals housed, our provisions

stored, when down came the rain.

 

To continue in our nest we found impossible, and we were obliged to

retreat to the trunk, where we carried such of our domestic furniture

as might have been injured by the damp. Our dwelling was indeed

crowded: the animals and provisions below, and our beds and household

goods around us, hemmed us in on every side; by degrees, by dint of

patience and better packing, we obtained sufficient room to work and

lie down in; by degrees, too, we became accustomed to the continual

noise of the animals and the smell of the stables.

 

The smoke from the fire, which we were occasionally obliged to light,

was not agreeable; but in time even that seemed to become more

bearable.

 

To make more space, we turned such animals as we had captured, and who

therefore might be imagined to know how to shift for themselves,

outside during the daytime, bringing them under the arched roots only

at night. To perform this duty Fritz and I used to sally forth every

evening, and as regularly every evening did we return soaked to the

skin.

 

To obviate this, my wife, who feared these continual wettings might

injure our health, contrived waterproofs: she brushed on several layers

of caoutchouc over stout shirts, to which she attached hoods; she then

fixed to these duck trousers, and thus prepared for each of us a

complete waterproof suit, clad in which we might brave the severest

rain.

 

In spite of our endeavours to keep ourselves busy, the time dragged

heavily. Our mornings were occupied in tending the animals; the boys

amused themselves with their pets, and assisted me in the manufacture

of carding-combs and a spindle for their mother. The combs I made with

nails, which I placed head downwards on a sheet of tin about an inch

wide; holding the nails in their proper positions I poured solder round

their heads to fix them to the tin, which I then folded down on either

side of them to keep them perfectly firm.

 

In the evening, when our room was illuminated with wax candles, I

wrote a journal of all the events which had occurred since our arrival

in this foreign land; and, while my wife was busy with her needle and

Ernest making sketches of birds, beasts and flowers with which he had

met during the past months, Fritz and Jack taught little Franz to read.

 

Week after week rolled by. Week after week saw us still close

prisoners. Incessant rain battered down above us, constant gloom hung

over the desolate scene.

Chapter 9

The winds at length were lulled, the sun shot his brilliant rays

through the riven clouds, the rain ceased to fallβ€”spring had come. No

prisoners set at liberty could have felt more joy than we did as we

stepped forth from our winter abode, refreshed our eyes with the

pleasant verdure around us, and our ears with the merry songs of a

thousand happy birds, and drank in the pure balmy air of spring.

 

Our plantations were thriving vigorously. The seed we had sown was

shooting through the moist earth. All nature was refreshed.

 

Our nest was our first care: filled with leaves and broken and torn by

the wind, it looked indeed dilapidated. We worked hard, and in a few

days it was again habitable. My wife begged that I would now start her

with the flax, and as early as possible I built a drying-oven, and then

prepared it for her use; I also, after some trouble, manufactured a

beetle-reel and spinning-wheel, and she and Franz were soon hard at

work, the little boy reeling off the thread his mother spun.

 

I was anxious to visit Tentholm, for I feared that much of our

precious stores might have suffered. Fritz and I made an excursion

thither. The damage done to Falconhurst was as nothing compared to the

scene that awaited us. The tent was blown to the ground, the canvas

torn to rags, the provisions soaked, and two casks of powder utterly

destroyed. We immediately spread such things as we hoped yet to

preserve in the sun to dry.

 

The pinnace was safe, but our faithful tub-boat was dashed in pieces,

and the irreparable damage we had sustained made me resolve to contrive

some safer and more stable winter-quarters before the arrival of the

next rainy season. Fritz proposed that we should hollow out a cave in

the rock, and though the difficulties such an undertaking would present

appeared almost insurmountable, I yet determined to make the attempt;

we might not, I thought, hew out a cavern of sufficient size to serve

as a room, but we might at least make a cellar for the more valuable

and perishable of our stores.

 

Some days afterwards we left Falconhurst with the cart laden with a

cargo of spades, hammers, chisels, pickaxes and crowbars, and began our

undertaking. On the smooth face of the perpendicular rock I drew out in

chalk the size of the proposed entrance, and then, with minds bent on

success, we battered away.

 

Six days of hard and incessant toil made but little impression; I do

not think that the hole would have been a satisfactory shelter for even

Master Knips; but we still did not despair, and were presently rewarded

by coming to softer and more yielding substance; our work progressed,

and our minds were relieved.

 

On the tenth day, as our persevering blows were falling heavily, Jack,

who was working diligently with a hammer and crowbar, shouted:

 

`Gone, father! Fritz, my bar has gone through the mountain!’

 

`Run round and get it,’ laughed Fritz, `perhaps it has dropped into

Europeβ€”you must not lose a good crowbar.’

 

`But, really, it is through; it went right through the rock; I heard it

crash down inside. Oh, do come and see!’ he shouted excitedly.

 

We sprang to his side, and I thrust the handle of my hammer into the

hole he spoke of; it met with no opposition, I could turn it in any

direction I chose. Fritz handed me a long pole; I tried the depth with

that. Nothing could I feel. A thin wall, then, was all that intervened

between us and a great cavern.

 

With a shout of joy, the boys battered vigorously at the rock; piece by

piece fell, and soon the hole was large enough for us to enter. I

stepped near the aperture, and was about to make a further examination,

when a sudden rush of poisonous air turned me giddy, and shouting to my

sons to stand off, I leaned against the rock.

 

When I came to myself I explained to them the danger of approaching any

cavern or other place where the air has for a long time been stagnant.

`Unless air is incessantly renewed it becomes vitiated,’ I said, `and

fatal to those who breathe it. The safest way of restoring it to its

original state is to subject it to the action of fire; a few handfuls

of blazing hay thrown into this hole may, if the place be small,

sufficiently purify the air within to allow us to enter without

danger.’ We tried the experiment. The flame was extinguished the

instant it entered. Though bundles of blazing grass were thrown in, no

difference was made.*

 

* What actually happens is that the oxygen supply becomes

low. If there is sufficient oxygen to maintain a flame, the

action of the flame increases air circulation, which then

brings in more oxygen. The flame goes out if the oxygen

supply is insufficient for its supply; in this case, it

takes the fireworks to create adequate circulation. The next

torch is able to blaze not because the air is purified, but

because the oxygen is now sufficient to feed the fire.

 

I saw that we must apply some more efficacious remedy, and sent the

boys for a chest of signal-rockets we had brought from the wreck. We

let fly some dozens of these fiery serpents, which went whizzing in and

disappeared at apparently a vast distance from us. Some flew like

radiant meteors round, lighted up the mighty circumference and

displayed, as by a magician’s wand, a sparkling glittering roof. They

looked like avenging dragons driving a foul malignant fiend out of a

beauteous palace.

 

We waited for a little while after these experiments, and I then again

threw in lighted hay. It burned clearly; the air was purified.

 

Fritz and I enlarged the opening, while Jack, springing on his

buffalo, thundered away

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