The Swiss Family Robinson

Chapter 7 (continued)

The bull, thus secured, could not move; and while Jack held his head I drew my knife and pierced the cartilage of his nose, and when the blood flowed less freely, passed a stout cord through the hole. I felt some repugnance at thus paining the animal, but it was a case of necessity, and I could not hesitate. We united the ends of the cord, freed the animal, set him upon his legs, and subdued and overawed, he followed us without resistance. I now turned my attention to the dead buffalo, but as I could not then skin it, I contented myself with cutting off the most delicate parts, its tongue, and a couple of steaks, and, packing them in salt in my wallet, abandoned the rest to the dogs. They fell upon it greedily, and we retired under the shade to enjoy a meal after our hard work. The dogs, however, were not to have undisputed possession of the carcass; vultures, crows and other birds of prey, with that marvellous instinct which always leads them to a dead body, quickly filled the air, and, with discordant cries, swooped down upon the buffalo. An amusing contest ensued; the dogs again and again drove off the intruders, and they, as often, returned reinforced by others who swarmed to the spot. Jack, with his usual impetuosity, wished to send a shot in amongst the robber band, but I prevented him, for I knew that the bird or two he might kill would be of no use to us, while his shot would not drive away the rest even had we wished it. Both we and the dogs were at length satisfied, and as it was getting late, I determined to give up for the present the search for the ass, and to return to our camp. We again made our way through the bamboos, but before we left the thicket, I cut down one of the smallest of the reeds, the largest of whose joints would form capital little barrels, while those near the tapering top would serve as moulds for our next batch of candles.

The buffalo, with a dog on either side and the rope through his nose, was following us passively, and we presently induced him to submit to a package of our goods laid upon his back. We pushed rapidly forward, Jack eager to display our latest acquisition. As we repassed the rocky bed of a stream we had crossed in the morning, Juno dashed ahead, and was about to rush into a cleft between the rocks, when the appearance of a large jackal suddenly checked her further progress. Both dogs instantly flew at the animal, and though she fought desperately, quickly overpowered and throttled her. From the way the beast had shown fight, I concluded that her young must be close by, probably within the very cleft Juno was about to enter.

Directly Jack heard this, he wished to creep in and bring out the young jackals. I hesitated to allow him to do so, for I thought it possible that the male jackal might be still lying in wait within the cave. We peered into the darkness, and after a while, Jack declared he could discern the little yellow jackals, and that he was quite sure the old one was not there. He then crept in, followed closely by the dogs, and presently emerged bearing in his arms a handsome cub of a beautiful golden yellow and about the size of a small cat. He was the only one of the brood he had managed to save, for Turk and Juno, without pity for their youth or beauty, had worried all the rest. I did not much regret this, however, for I firmly believe that, had he saved them, Jack would have insisted upon bringing up the whole litter. As it was I considered that one jackal was, with our young bull, quite sufficient an addition to our livestock.

During the halt we had made, I had fastened the buffalo to a small tree, and as I now was again about to move on, I recognized it as the dwarf-palm, whose long sharp leaves form an excellent barrier if it is planted as a hedge. I determined to return and get some young plants to strengthen our hedge at Tentholm. It was late before we reached our camp, where we found our family anxiously awaiting our return.

The sight of the new animals delighted the children immensely, and in their opinion amply compensated for the loss of our poor donkey. Jack had to answer a host of questions concerning their capture, and to give a minute account of the affray with the buffaloes. This he did, with graphic power certainly, but with so much boasting and self-glorification, that I was obliged to check him, and give a plain and unvarnished account of the affair.

Supper-time arrived, and as we sat at that meal, for which Jack and I were heartily thankful, my wife and her party proceeded to give an account of their day's work.

Ernest had discovered a sago-palm, and had, after much labour, contrived to fell it. Franz and his mother had collected dry wood, of which a huge heap now stood before the tent sufficient to keep up a fire all the rest of the time we should stay on the spot. Fritz had gone off shooting and had secured a good bag. While they had been thus variously employed, a troop of apes had visited the tent, and when they returned, they found the place ransacked and turned upside down. The provisions were eaten and gnawed, the potatoes thrown about, the milk drunk and spilt, every box had been peeped into, every pot and pan had been divested of its lid, the palisade round the hut had been partly destroyed, nothing had been left untouched. Industriously had the boys worked to repair the damage, and when we returned not a sign was to be seen of the disorder. No one would have guessed what had occurred from the delicious supper we were eating.

After matters had been again arranged, Fritz had gone down to the shore and, amongst the rocks at Cape Disappointment, had discovered a young eaglet which Ernest declared to be a Malabar or Indian eagle; he was much pleased with his discovery, and I recommended him to bring the bird up and try to train it to hunt as a falcon.

`Look here though, boys,' said I, `you are now collecting a good many pets, and I am not going to have your mother troubled with the care of them all; each must look after his own, and if I find one neglected, whether beast or bird, I set it at liberty. Mark that and remember it!'

My wife looked greatly relieved at this announcement, and the boys promised to obey my directions. Before we retired for the night I prepared the buffalo-meat I had brought; I lit a large fire of green wood, and in the smoke of this thoroughly dried both the tongue and steaks. We then properly secured all the animals, Jack took his little pet in his arms, and we lay down and were soon fast asleep.

At daybreak we were on foot, and began to prepare for a return to Falconhurst.

`You are not going to despise my sago, I hope,' said Ernest, `you have no idea what a trouble it was to cut it down, and I have been thinking too that if we could but split the tree, we might make a couple of long useful troughs which might, I think, be made to carry water from Jackal's River to Tentholm. Is my plan worth consideration?'

`Indeed it is,' I replied, `and at all events we must not abandon such a valuable prize as a sago-palm. I would put off our departure for a day, rather than leave it behind.'

We went to the palm, and with the tools we had with us attempted to split the trunk. We first sawed off the upper end, and then with an axe and saw managed to insert a wedge. This accomplished, our task was less difficult, for with a heavy mallet we forced the wedge in further and further, until at length the trunk was split in twain. From one half of the trunk we then removed the pith, disengaging it, with difficulty, from the tough wood fibres; at each end, however, I left a portion of the pith untouched, thus forming a trough in which to work the sago.

`Now, boys,' said I, when we had removed the pith from the other half of the trunk, `off with your coats and turn up your shirt-sleeves; I am going to teach you to knead.'

They were all delighted, and even little Franz begged to be allowed to help. Ernest brought a couple of pitchers of water, and throwing it in amongst the pith, we set to work right heartily. As the dough was formed and properly kneaded, I handed it to my wife who spread it out on a cloth in the sun to dry. This new occupation kept us busy until the evening, and when it was at length completed we loaded the cart with the sago, a store of coconuts and our other possessions, that we might be ready to start early on the following morning. As the sun rose above the horizon, we packed up our tent and set forth, a goodly caravan. I thought it unfair to the cow to make her drag such a load as we now had alone, and determined if possible to make the young buffalo take the place of our lost donkey; after some persuasion he consented, and soon put his strength to the work and brought the cart along famously. As we had the trough slung under the cart we had to choose the clearest possible route, avoiding anything like a thicket; we, therefore, could not pass directly by the candleberry and caoutchouc trees, and I sent Ernest and Jack aside to visit the store we had made on our outward journey.

They had not long been gone when I was alarmed by a most terrible noise accompanied by the furious barking of the dog and shouts from Jack and Ernest. Thinking that the boys had been attacked by some wild beast, I ran to their assistance. A most ludicrous scene awaited me when I reached the spot. They were dancing and shouting round and round a grassy glade, and I as nearly as possible followed their example, for in the centre, surrounded by a promising litter, lay our old sow, whose squeals, previously so alarming, were now subsiding into comfortable grunts of recognition. I did not join my boys in their triumphal dance, but I was nevertheless very much pleased at the sight of the flourishing family, and immediately returned to the cart to obtain biscuits and potatoes for the benefit of the happy mother. Jack and Ernest meanwhile pushed further on, and brought back the sack of candleberries and the caoutchouc, and as we could not then take the sow with us, we left her alone with her family and proceeded to Falconhurst.

The animals were delighted to see us back again, and received us with manifestations of joy, but looked askance at the new pets. The eagle especially came in for shy glances, and promised to be no favourite. Fritz, however, determined that his pet should at present do no harm, secured him by the leg to a root of the fig-tree and uncovered his eyes. In a moment the aspect of the bird was changed; with his sight returned all his savage instincts, he flapped his wings, raised his head, darted to the full length of his chain, and before anyone could prevent him seized the unfortunate parrot which stood near, and tore it to pieces. Fritz's anger rose at the sight, and he was about to put an end to the savage bird.

`Stop,' said Ernest, `don't kill the poor creature, he is but following his natural instincts; give him to me, and I will tame him.'

Fritz hesitated. `No, no,' he said, `I don't want really to kill the bird, but I can't give him up; tell me how to tame him, and you shall have Master Knips.'

`Very well,' replied Ernest, `I will tell you my plan, and, if it succeeds, I will accept Knips as a mark of your gratitude. Take a pipe and tobacco, and send the smoke all round his head, so that he must inhale it; by degrees he will become stupefied, and his savage nature from that moment subdued.'

Fritz was rather inclined to ridicule the plan, but knowing that Ernest generally had a good reason for anything of the sort that he proposed, he consented to make the attempt. He soon seated himself beneath the bird, who still struggled furiously, and puffed cloud after cloud upwards, and as each cloud circled round the eagle's head he became quieter and quieter, until he sat quite still, gazing stupidly at the young smoker.

`Capital!' cried Fritz, as he hooded the bird, `capital, Ernest; Knips is yours.'


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