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
"There now!" said I, laughing as he tasted this new luxury, "you will
have to exercise moderation again, friend Fritz! I daresay it is
delicious, but it will go to your head, if you venture deep into your
flask."
"My dear father, you cannot think how good it is! Do take some. Vinegar,
indeed! This is like excellent wine."
We were both invigorated by this unexpected draught, and went on so
merrily after it, that the distance to the place where we had left our
gourd-dishes seemed less than we expected. We found them quite dry, and
very light and easy to carry.
Just as we had passed through the grove in which we had breakfasted,
Turk suddenly darted away from us and sprang furiously among a troop of
monkeys, which were gamboling playfully on the turf at a little distance
from the trees. They were taken by surprise completely, and the dog, now
really ravenous from hunger, had seized and was fiercely tearing one to
pieces before we could approach the spot.
His luckless victim was the mother of a tiny little monkey, which, being
on her back when the dog flew at her, hindered her flight. The little
creature attempted to hide among the grass, and in trembling fear
watched its mother. On perceiving Turk's bloodthirsty design, Fritz had
eagerly rushed to the rescue, flinging away all he was carrying, and
losing his hat in his haste. All to no purpose as far as the poor mother
ape was concerned, and a laughable scene ensued, for no sooner did the
young monkey catch sight of him, than at one bound it was on his
shoulders, and, holding fast by his thick curly hair, it firmly kept its
seat in spite of all he could do to dislodge it. He screamed and plunged
about as he endeavored to shake or pull the creature off, but all in
vain; it only clung the closer to his neck, making the most absurd
grimaces.
I laughed so much at this ridiculous scene, that I could scarcely assist
my terrified boy out of his awkward predicament.
At last, by coaxing the monkey, offering it a bit of biscuit; and
gradually disentangling its small sinewy paws from the curls it grasped
so tightly, I managed to relieve poor Fritz, who then looked with
interest at the baby ape, no bigger than a kitten, as it lay in my arms.
"What a jolly little fellow it is!" exclaimed he, "do let me try to rear
it, father. I daresay cocoanut milk would do until we can bring the cow
and the goats from the wreck. If he lives he might be useful to us. I
believe monkeys instinctively know what fruits are wholesome and what
are poisonous."
"Well," said I, "let the little orphan be yours. You bravely and kindly
exerted yourself to save the mother's life; now you must train her child
carefully, for unless you do so its natural instinct will prove
mischievous instead of useful to us."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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