The Swiss Family Robinson: A Translation from the Original GermanWyss, Johann David
General
The Swiss Family Robinson: A Translation from the Original German
Wyss, Johann David
Family life -- Fiction; Islands -- Fiction; Survival -- Fiction
Our family circle by and by represented Babel in miniature, for scraps
and fragments of all these tongues kept buzzing about our ears from
morning to night, each sporting his newly acquired word or sentence on
every possible occasion, propounding idioms and peculiar expressions
like riddles, to puzzle the rest.
In this way, the labor of learning was very considerably lightened, and
every one came to know a few words of each language.
Occasionally we amused ourselves by opening chests and packages hitherto
untouched, and brought unexpected treasures to light--mirrors,
wardrobes, a pair of console tables with polished marble tops, elegant
writing tables and handsome chairs, clocks of various descriptions, a
musical box, and a chronometer were found; and by degrees our abode was
fitted up like a palace, so that sometimes we wondered at ourselves, and
felt as though we were strutting about in borrowed plumes.
The children begged me to decide on a name for our salt-cave dwelling,
and that of Rockburg was chosen unanimously.
The weeks of imprisonment passed so rapidly, that no one found time hang
heavy on his hands.
Books occupied me so much that but little carpentering was done, yet I
made a yoke for the oxen, a pair of cotton wool carders, and a spinning
wheel for my wife.
As the rainy season drew to a close, the weather for a while became
wilder, and the storms fiercer than ever. Thunder roared, lightning
blazed, torrents rushed toward the sea, which came in raging billows to
meet them, lashed to fury by the tempests of wind which swept the
surface of the deep.
The uproar of the elements came to an end at last.
Nature resumed her attitude of repose, her smiling aspect of peaceful
beauty; and soon all traces of the ravages of floods and storms would
disappear beneath the luxuriant vegetation of the tropics.
Gladly quitting the sheltering walls of Rockburg to roam once more in
the open air, we crossed Jackal River, for a walk along the coast, and
presently Fritz with sharp eyes observed something on the small island
near Flamingo Marsh, which was, he said, long and rounded, resembling a
boat bottom upward.
Examining it with the telescope, I could form no other conjecture, and
we resolved to make it the object of an excursion next day, being
delighted to resume our old habit of starting in pursuit of adventure.
The boat was accordingly got in readiness; it required some repairs, and
fresh pitching, and then we made for the point of interest, indulging in
a variety of surmises as to what we should find.
It proved to be a huge, stranded whale.
The island being steep and rocky, it was necessary to be careful; but we
found a landing-place on the further side. The boys hurried by the
nearest way to the beach where lay the monster of the deep, while I
clambered to the highest point of the islet, which commanded a view of
the mainland, from Rockburg to Falconhurst.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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