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
"Stop, stop," I said at length; "the most learned naturalist would be
much puzzled with many of these trees, and I who have never seen any of
them before, and know them merely by description, cannot pretend to tell
you the names, or explain to you the use of one-quarter of them."
Discussing, however, the properties of such shrubs as I did know, we at
length reached Tentholm. Everything was safe, and we set to work to
collect what we wanted. I opened the butter cask, from which my wife
filled her pot. Fritz saw after the ammunition, and Jack and Ernest ran
down to the beach to capture the geese and ducks. This they found no
easy matter, for the birds, left so long alone, were shy, and nothing
would induce them to come on shore and be caught. Ernest at length hit
upon an ingenious plan. He took some pieces of cheese, and tied them to
long strings. This bait he threw into the water, and the hungry ducks
instantly made a grab at it; then with a little skillful maneuvering he
drew them on shore. While Jack and he were thus busily employed catching
and tying the rebels together by the feet, we procured a fresh supply of
salt, which we packed upon Turk's back, first relieving him of his coat
of mail. The birds we fastened to our game bags, and carefully closing
the door of our tent, started homeward by the seashore. After a cheerful
and pleasant walk, we once more reached our woodland abode. I released
the birds and, clipping their wings to prevent their leaving us,
established them on the stream. Then, after a delicious supper of
potatoes, milk, and butter, we ascended our tree and turned in.
Having remarked a great deal of driftwood on the sands the preceding
evening, it occurred to me that it would be well to get some of it, and
make a kind of sledge, so that the labor of fetching what we wanted from
our stores at Tentholm might not fall so heavily on ourselves.
I awoke early, and roused Ernest as my assistant, wishing to encourage
him to overcome his natural fault of indolence. After a little
stretching and yawning, he got up cheerfully, pleased with the idea of
an expedition while the others still slept, and we made our way to the
beach, taking with us the donkey, who drew a large broad bough, which I
expected to find useful in bringing back our load.
As we went along, I remarked to Ernest that I supposed he was rather
sorry for himself, and grudged leaving his cozy hammock and pleasant
dreams at this untimely hour.
"Oh, father, do not laugh at my laziness! Indeed, I mean to cure myself
of it. I am very glad to go with you. I intended to shoot some more of
the ortolans this morning, but there will be plenty of time afterward.
The boys will be shooting at them, I daresay, but I don't expect they
will have any great luck."
"Why not, pray?" inquired I.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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