The Swiss Family Robinson. Johann Wyss

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Название The Swiss Family Robinson
Автор произведения Johann Wyss
Жанр Классическая проза
Серия
Издательство Классическая проза
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007480746



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whose patience was sorely tried by his restlessness and playful tricks.

      The sheep were under Ernest’s care, and I brought up the rear of this patriarchal band, while the two dogs kept constantly running backwards and forwards in the character of aides-de-camp.

      With honest pride I introduced my wife to my bridge, and after receiving from her what I considered well-merited praise for my skill in its construction, we passed over it in grand procession, reinforced unexpectedly on the opposite side by the arrival of our cross-grained old sow. The perverse creature had obstinately resisted our attempts to bring her with us, but finding herself deserted, had followed of her own accord, testifying in the most unmistakable manner, by angry grunts and squeals, her entire disapproval of our proceedings.

      I soon found we must, as before, turn down to the sea beach, for not only did the rank grass impede our progress, but it also tempted the animals to break away from us, and, but for our watchful dogs, we might have lost several of them.

      On the firm, open sands we were making good way, when to my annoyance, both our dogs suddenly left us, and springing into the thick cover to our right, commenced a furious barking, following by howling as if in fear and violent pain.

      Not for a moment doubting that some dangerous animal was at hand, I hastened to the spot, remarking as I went the characteristic behaviour of my three sons.

      Fritz cocked his gun and advanced boldly, but with caution.

      Ernest looked disconcerted, and drew back, but got ready to fire.

      While Jack hurried after Fritz without so much as unslinging his gun from his shoulders.

      Before I could come up with them, I heard Jack shouting excitedly,

      ‘Father! Father! Come quickly! A huge porcupine! A most enormous porcupine!’

      Sure enough, the dogs were rushing round and round a porcupine, and having attempted to seize it, were already severely wounded by its quills. Each time they came near, the creature, with a rattling noise, bristled up its spines.

      Somewhat to my amusement, while we were looking at the curious defence this creature was making, little Jack stepped close up to it, with a pocket pistol in his hand, and shot it dead, making sure of it by a couple of hearty raps on the head, and then giving way to a burst of boyish exultation, he called upon us to help to convey his prize to his mother. This it was not by any means easy to do. Sundry attempts resulted in bloody fingers, till Jack, taking his pocket-handkerchief, and fastening one corner round its neck, ran off, dragging it after him to where his mother awaited us.

      ‘Hullo, mother! Here’s a jolly beast, isn’t it? I shot it, and it’s good to eat! Father says so! I only wish you had seen how it terrified the dogs, and heard the rattling and rustling of its spines. Oh, it is a fearful creature!’

      Ernest, examining it carefully, pronounced its incisor teeth, its ears and feet, to resemble those of the human race, and pointed out the curious crest of stiff hairs on its head and neck.

      ‘I have read of another species,’ said he, ‘called the tuft-tailed porcupine, which must be even more curious-looking than this is. It has short flat quills, and a scaly tail ending in an extraordinary tuft, like a bunch of narrow strips of parchment. It cannot be such a disagreeable enemy to encounter as this fellow.’

      ‘Were you not afraid, Jack,’ asked I, ‘lest the porcupine should cast some of his quills like darts at you?’

      ‘Of course not,’ returned he, ‘I know well enough that is nothing but a fable!’

      ‘A fable!’ said I, ‘why look at your mother! She is drawing five or six spines out of each of the dogs!’

      ‘Ah, those stuck into them when they so fiercely fell upon it in their attack. Those are the shortest quills, and seem very slightly fixed in its skin. The long quills bent aside when Juno pressed against them.’

      ‘You are perfectly right, my boy,’ said I, ‘there is no truth in the old idea of shooting out the spines. But now, shall we leave this prickly booty of yours, or attempt to take it with us?’

      ‘Oh, please, father, let us take it! Why, it is good to eat!’

      Smiling at the child’s eagerness, and willing to please him, I made a somewhat awkward bundle of the porcupine, wrapping it in several folds of cloth, and added it to the donkey’s load.

      Our party then resumed the march, which, with little interruption, was continued steadily, until we came in sight of our future place of residence.

      The wonderful appearance of the enormous trees, and the calm beauty of the spot altogether, fully came up to the enthusiastic description which had been given to me. And my wife gladly heard me say that if an abode could be contrived among the branches, it would be the safest and most charming home in the world.

      We hastily unloaded the ass and cow, securing them, as well as the sheep and goats, by tying their fore-feet loosely together. The doves and poultry were set at liberty, and we sat down to rest among the soft herbage while we laid our plans for the night.

      Fritz soon left us, but presently two shots were fired, and he appeared holding a fine tiger-cat by the hind legs, which, with the intensest delight, he exhibited to each in turn.

      ‘Well done, Fritz!’ cried I. ‘Our cocks and hens would have had an unfortunate night of it but for this lucky shot of yours. It is to be hoped he has left no companion near at hand. You must be on the look-out. But now, Fritz, tell us how you obtained your prize.’

      ‘Observing that something moved among the branches,’ said he, ‘I went softly round the tree with my gun, and making sure the creature was a wild cat I fired and brought it down. It was severely wounded, but, rising in a fury, it attempted to climb the tree, when I, luckily having a loaded pistol, gave it a quietus. And do tell me, father, what sort of cat it is.’

      ‘It is a mercy the brute did not fly at your throat instead of attempting to escape,’ said I. ‘It belongs to a fierce and blood-thirsty race – that of the ocelots or tiger-cats, natives of the tropical parts of America. I should say this was a margay, and as it would have proved a cruel foe, not only of our poultry, but also of our sheep and goats, I am well pleased that you have rid us of it.’

      ‘May I have the beautiful skin, father? And will you tell me what will be the best use to make of it?’

      ‘I advise you to skin the animal very carefully, and of the handsome black and yellow tail, make a hunting-belt for yourself. The paws – let me see – why, I fancy the paws might be made famous cases for knife, fork and spoon, and look well hanging from the belt. The skin of the body you had better preserve until you find some suitable use for it.’

      ‘Oh, father, what a splendid plan!’ cried Jack. ‘Do tell me some good use for my porcupine.’

      ‘I think its feet may make cases also; at least, you may try. The quills, I am sure, may be used for packing needles, and for tipping arrows, and I should try to make defensive armour for the dogs out of the rest. They may fall in with foes more dangerous than any we have yet seen.’

      ‘To be sure, father, the very thing!’ shouted Jack in high glee. ‘I have seen pictures of boar-hunts, in which the dogs were protected by a sort of leather coat of mail. That will be grand!’

      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 fire-place, while Franz gathered sticks, as his mother was anxious to prepare some food.

      ‘What sort of 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,