The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures on a Desert IslandWyss, Johann David
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The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures on a Desert Island
Wyss, Johann David
Family life -- Fiction; Islands -- Fiction; Survival -- Fiction
After giving this advice, I got no peace until I had shown my boys how
to act upon it, and in a short time each had his prize fastened up by
the hind legs, and carefully slitting the skin, was stripping it from
the carcass.
Ernest, meanwhile, was fetching large flat stones in order to form a
fireplace, while Franz gathered sticks, as his mother was anxious to
prepare some food.
"What sort of a tree do you suppose this to be, father?" inquired
Ernest, seeing me examining that under which we were encamping. "Is not
the leaf something like a walnut?"
"There is a resemblance, but in my opinion these gigantic trees must be
mangroves or wild figs. I have heard their enormous height described,
and also the peculiarity of the arching roots supporting the main trunk
raised above the soil."
Just then little Franz came up with a large bundle of sticks, and his
mouth full of something he was eating with evident satisfaction.
"Oh, mother!" cried he, "this is so good! So delicious!"
"Greedy little boy!" exclaimed she in a fright. "What have you got
there? Don't swallow it, whatever you do. Very likely it is poisonous!
Spit it all out this minute!" And the anxious mother quickly extracted
from the rosy little mouth the remains of a small fig.
"Where did you find this?" said I.
"There are thousands lying among the grass yonder," replied the little
boy. "They taste very nice. I thought poison was nasty. Do you think
they will hurt me? The pigeons and the hens are gobbling them up with
all their might and main, papa!"
"I think you have no cause for alarm, dear wife," I said. "The trees
seem to be the fig-bearing mangrove of the Antilles. But remember,
Franz, you must never eat anything without first showing it to me, never
mind how good it seems. If birds and monkeys eat a fruit or vegetable,
it is usually safe to believe it wholesome," added I, turning to the
other boys, who, instantly taking the hint, coaxed Franz to give them
the figs he still had in his pocket, and ran to offer them to Knips, who
was closely watching the skinning of the tiger cat and porcupine,
apparently giving his opinion on the subject with much chattering and
gesticulation.
"Here, Knips, allow me to present you with a fig!" cried Jack, holding
one out to the funny little creature.
Knips took it readily, and after turning it about, and sniffing and
smelling it, he popped it into his mouth, with such a droll grimace of
delight and satisfaction that the boys all laughed and clapped their
hands, crying, "Bravo, Knips! you know a good thing when you see it,
don't you, old fellow! Hurrah!"
My wife, with her mind set at rest on the question of the figs, now
continued her preparations for dinner.
The flesh of the margay was given to the dogs, but part of the porcupine
was put on the fire to boil, while we reserved the rest for roasting.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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