Swiss Family Robinson by Johann David Wyss (portable ebook reader .txt) 📕

>such an idea did not enter my head. On, on, on, I felt I must go, until

I should reach the goal of my voyage.

 

`The shades of night at length drew on and, finding a sheltered cove, I

moored my cajack, and stepped on shore. You may imagine how pleasant it

was to stretch my legs, after sitting for so long in the cramped

position which my cajack enforces.

 

It would not do, however, to sleep on shore; so after preparing and

enjoying my supper, I returned on board, and there spent the night.

 

`Next morning Pounce and I again landed for breakfast. I lit my fire,

and hung before it a plump young parrot to roast. As I was so doing, I

heard a slight rustle amongst the long grass behind me. I glanced

round, and there, with glaring eyes, and his great tail swaying to and

fro, I saw an immense tiger.

 

`In another moment his spring would have been made. I should have been

no more, and our young guest would have been doomed to, God only knows

how many, more years of frightful solitude!

 

`My gun was lying by my side. Before I could have stooped to pick it

up, the monster would have seized me.

 

`Pounce saw and comprehended my danger: the heroic bird darted upon my

enemy, and so blinded him with his flapping wings, and the fierce blows

of his beak, that his spring was checked, and I had time to recover my

self-possession. I seized my gun and fired; and the brute, pierced to

the heart, gave one spring, and then rolled over at my feet.

 

`My enemy was dead; but beside him—alas!—lay poor Pounce, crushed and

lifeless. One blow of the great beast’s paw had struck him down, never

to rise again!’ Fritz’s voice shook as he came to this point; and,

after remaining silent for a moment or two, he continued, hurriedly:

 

`With a sad and desolate feeling at my heart, I buried the faithful

bird where he had met his death; and then, unable longer to continue

near the spot, I returned to my cajack, and leaving the great tiger

lying where he fell, paddled hastily away.

 

`My thoughts were gloomy. I felt as though, now that my companion was

gone, I could no longer continue the voyage. The albatross, I thought,

may have flown for hundreds of miles before it reached me. This

stranger may be on different shores from these entirely; every stroke

of my paddle may be carrying me further from the blazing signal: who

knows?

 

`This feeling of discouragement was not, however, to be of long

duration; for in a moment more a sight presented itself, which

banished all my doubts and fears, and raised me to the highest pitch of

excitement.

 

`A high point of land lay before me. I rounded it, and beyond found a

calm and pleasant bay, from whose curved and thickly wooded shores ran

out a reef of rocks. From the point of this reef rose a column of

smoke, steadily and clearly curling upwards in the calm air. I could

scarcely believe my senses, but stopped gazing at it, as though I were

in a dream; then, with throbbing pulse and giddy brain, I seized my

paddle, and strained every nerve to reach it.

 

`A few strokes seemed to carry me across the bay, and, securing my

canoe, I leaped upon the rock, on which the beacon was blazing, but not

a sign of a human being could I see. I was about to shout, for as the

fire had evidently been recently piled up, I knew the stranger could

not be far off; but, before I could do so, I saw a slight figure

passing along the chain of rocks towards the spot on which I stood. You

may all imagine my sensations.

 

`I advanced a few paces; and then mastering my emotion as best I

could, I said, in English:

 

“Welcome, fair stranger! God, in His mercy, has heard your call, and

has sent me to your aid!”

 

`Miss Montrose came quickly forward—’

 

`Who? What?’ shouted the boys, interrupting the narrative. `Who came

forward?’ and amid a general hubbub, Ernest, rising and advancing to

his brother, said in his quiet way:

 

`I did not like to make any remark till you actually let out the

secret, Fritz, but we need no longer pretend not to see through the

disguise of Edward Montrose.’

 

Fritz, though much disconcerted by the discovery of the secret,

recovered his self-possession; and, after bearing with perfect

equanimity the jokes with which his brothers assailed him, joined in

three cheers for their new sister, and when the confusion and laughter

which ensued had subsided, continued his story.

 

`Miss Montrose grasped my hands warmly, and guessing from my

pronunciation, I am afraid, that I was not in the habit of speaking

English every day of my life, said in French:

 

`“Long, long, have I waited since the bird returned with your message.

Thank God, you have come at last!”

 

`Then, with tears of joy and gratitude, she led me to the shore, where

she had built a hut and a safe sleeping-place, like Falconhurst on a

small scale, among the branches of a tree. I was delighted with all she

showed me, for indeed her hut and its fittings evinced no ordinary

skill and ingenuity. Round the walls hung bows, arrows, lances and

bird-snares; while on her work-table, in boxes and cases, carved

skilfully with a knife, were fish-hooks of mother-of-pearl, needles

made from fishbones, and bodkins from the beaks of birds, fishing-lines

of all sorts, and knives and other tools.

 

These latter she told me were, with a chest of wearing apparel, almost

the only things washed ashore after the wreck, when three years ago she

was cast alone upon this desolate coast. I marvelled more and more at

the wonderful way in which this girl had surmounted obstacles, the

quarter of which would completely have appalled the generality of her

sex.

 

The hut itself was a marvel of skill; stout posts had been driven into

the ground, with cross pieces of bamboo, to form a framework; the walls

had then been woven with reeds, the roof thatched with palm-leaves, and

the whole plastered smoothly with clay, an open space being left in the

centre of the roof for a chimney to carry off the smoke of the fire.

 

`As we entered, a cormorant, with a cry of anger, flew from under the

table towards me, and was about to attack me fiercely. Miss Montrose

called it off, and she then told me she had captured and tamed the bird

soon after first landing, and since that time had contrived to train it

to assist her in every conceivable way: it now not only was a pleasant

companion, but brought her food of every description, fish, flesh and

fowl, for whether it dived into the waters, according to its natural

habit, struck down birds upon the wing, or seized rabbits and other

small animals upon the land, it laid all its booty at her feet.

 

`Before darkness closed in, all the curiosities and ingenious

contrivances of the place had been displayed the kitchen-stove,

cooking utensils, skin bottles, shell plates and spoons, the fishing

raft, and numberless other things—and then, sitting down with my fair

hostess to a most appetizing meal, she gave me a short account of her

life:

 

`Jenny* Montrose was the daughter of a British officer who had served

for many years in India, where she herself was born. At the early age

of three years she lost her mother.

 

* Some translations give her name as Emily.

 

`After the death of his wife, all the Colonel’s love and care was

centred upon his only child; under his eye she was instructed in all

the accomplishments suited to her sex; and from him she imbibed an

ardent love of field sports. By the time she was seventeen she was as

much at home upon her horse in the field as in her father’s

drawing-room.

 

`Colonel Montrose now received orders to return home with his regiment

and as, for certain reasons, he did not wish her to accompany him in

the ship with the troops, he obtained a passage for her on board a

vessel which was about to sail at the same time.

 

`The separation was extremely painful to both the old soldier and his

daughter, but there was no alternative. They parted, and Miss Montrose

sailed in the Dorcas for England. A week after she had left Calcutta, a

storm arose and drove the vessel far out of her course; more bad

weather ensued; and at length, leaks having been sprung in all

directions, the crew were obliged to take to the boats.

 

Jenny obtained a place in one of the largest of these. After enduring

the perils of the sea for many days, land was sighted; and, the other

boats having disappeared, an attempt was made to land. The boat was

capsized, and Miss Montrose alone reached the shore. For a long time

she lay upon the sand almost inanimate; but, reviving sufficiently to

move, she at length obtained some shellfish, and by degrees recovered

her strength.

 

From that time forth until I appeared she never set eyes upon a human

being. To attract any passing vessel, and obtain assistance, however,

she kept a beacon continually blazing at the end of the reef; and, with

the same purpose in view, attached missives to the feet of any birds

she could take alive in her snares. The albatross, she told me, she had

kept for some time and partially tamed; but, as it was in the habit of

making long excursions on its own account, she conceived the idea of

sending it also with a message, that, should it by chance be seen and

taken alive, it might return with an answer.

 

`Our supper was over; and, at length, both wearied out with the

anxieties and excitement of the day, we retired to rest, she to her

leafy bower, and I to sleep in the hut below.

 

`Next morning, having packed her belongings in the cajack, we both went

on board; and bidding adieu to her well-known bay she took her seat

before me, and I made for home.

 

`We should have reached Rockburg this evening had not an accident

occurred to our skiff and compelled us to put in at this island. The

boat was scarcely repaired when I heard your first shots. I instantly

disguised myself; and, never doubting that Malay pirates were near,

came forth to reconnoitre. Glad, indeed, I was to find my fears

ungrounded.’

 

All had listened attentively to Fritz’s story, but now a dreadful yawn

from Franz, followed by others from Jack, Ernest and Fritz, and a great

desire on my own part to follow their example, warned me that it was

time to dismiss the party for the night. Fritz retired to his cajack,

the boys and I to the deck of the yacht, and the remainder of the night

passed quietly away.

 

Next morning as we assembled for breakfast I took the opportunity of

begging Miss Montrose no longer to attempt to continue her disguise,

but to allow us to address her in her real character.

 

Jenny smiled; for she had noticed, as the young men met her when she

came from the cabin, a great alteration in their manner, and had at

once seen that her secret was guessed.

 

`After all,’ she said, `I need not be ashamed of this attire; it has

been my only costume for the last three years, and in any other I

should have been unable to