The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures on a Desert IslandWyss, Johann David
General
The Swiss Family Robinson; or, Adventures on a Desert Island
Wyss, Johann David
Family life -- Fiction; Islands -- Fiction; Survival -- Fiction
With my son's assistance the cart was in time completed; a clumsy
vehicle it was, but strong enough for any purpose to which we might put
it, and, as it proved, of immense use to us in collecting the harvest.
We then turned our attention to our fruit-trees, which we had planted in
a plot ready for transplanting. The walnut, cherry, and chestnut trees
we arranged in parallel rows, so as to form a shady avenue from
Falconhurst to Family-bridge; and between them we laid down a tolerable
road, that we might have no difficulty in reaching Tentholm, be the
weather bad as it might. We planted the vines round the arched roots of
our great mangrove, and the rest of the trees in suitable spots; some
near Falconhurst, and others away over Jackal River, to adorn Tentholm.
Tentholm had been the subject of serious thoughts to me for some time
past, and I now turned all my attention thither. It was not my ambition
to make it beautiful, but to form of it a safe place of refuge in a case
of emergency. My first care, therefore, was to plant a thick, prickly
hedge capable of protecting us from any wild animal, and forming a
tolerable obstacle to the attack of even savages, should they appear.
Not satisfied with this, however, we fortified the bridge, and on a
couple of hillocks mounted two guns which we brought from the wreck, and
with whose angry mouths we might bark defiance at any enemy, man or
beast.
Six weeks slipped away while we were thus busily occupied, six weeks of
hard, yet pleasant labor. We greeted each Sunday and its accompanying
rest most gratefully, and on that day always, especially thanked God for
our continued health and safety. I soon saw that this hard work was
developing in the boys remarkable strength, and this I encouraged by
making them practice running, leaping, climbing, and swimming; I also
saw, however, that it was having a less satisfactory effect upon their
clothes, which, though a short time before remarkably neat, were now, in
spite of the busy mother's mending and patching, most untidy and
disreputable. I determined, therefore, to pay another visit to the
wreck, to replenish our wardrobe and to see how much longer the vessel
was likely to hold together. Three of the boys and I went off in the
pinnace. The old ship seemed in much the same condition as when we had
left her; a few more planks had gone, but that was all.
"Come, boys," cried I, "not an article of the slightest value must be
left on board; rummage her out to the very bottom of her hold."
They took me at my word; sailors' chests, bales of cloth and linen, a
couple of small guns, ball and shot, tables, benches, window shutters,
bolts and locks, barrels of pitch, all were soon in a heap on the deck.
We loaded the pinnace and went on shore. We soon returned with our
tub-boat in tow, and after a few more trips nothing was left on board.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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