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
With the greatest caution we drew near the sound, concealing ourselves
among the low bushes and thick grass and creepers, until we reached an
open glade; where, standing on an old prostrate log, was a beautiful
bird, about the size of a cock, of a rich chestnut brown color, finely
mottled with dark brown and gray. On the shoulders were curious tufts of
velvety black feathers, glossed with green. He was ruffling his wings,
erecting his tail and neck feathers, strutting and wheeling about in a
most strange and stately fashion. After maneuvering for some time in
this manner, greatly to the edification of a party of birds resembling
him, but without any ruff, who, assembled round the stump, were enjoying
his performances, he spread out his tail like a fan, stiffened his
wings, and began to strike with them in short, rapid beats, faster and
faster, until a rumbling sound like very distant thunder was produced,
and the whirring wings enveloped him as in a cloud. This was the
drumming noise which had alarmed us, increased, as I imagine, by the
wing strokes falling at times on the decayed and hollow stump on which
the curious pantomime was acted.
I was watching it with the utmost interest, when a shot from behind me
was fired, and in a moment the play was at an end; my over-hasty son had
changed the pretty comedy into a sad and needless tragedy. The
enthusiastic drummer fell dead from his perch, and the crowd of admiring
companions fled in dismay.
The cruel interruption of a scene so rare and remarkable annoyed me
extremely, and I blamed Fritz for firing without my leave. I felt sure
the bird was the ruffed grouse, and a very fine specimen. We placed it
on the ass, which was patiently awaiting our return, and went on our
way.
The sledge was quite safe where we had left it; it was early in the
day, and I resolved to explore, as I had intended, a line of cliff and
rocky hills, which, at more or less distance from the seashore, extended
the whole length of coast known or visible to us.
I desired to discover an opening, if any existed, by which to penetrate
the interior of the country, or to ascertain positively that we were
walled in and isolated on this portion of the coast.
Leaving Calabash Wood behind us, we advanced over ground covered with
manioc, potatoes, and many plants unknown to us; pleasant streamlets
watered the fruitful soil, and the view on all sides was open and
agreeable.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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