Shipwrecked Six Pack (Illustrated)

Chapter IX-2

As the barrels were filled, we closed them carefully, and rolled them away to the cool vaults at the back of our cave.

Our good fortune, however, was not to end here. A day after the herring fishery was over, and the shoal had left our bay, a great number of seals appeared, attracted by the refuse of the herrings which we had thrown into the sea. Though I feared they would not be suitable for our table, we yet secured a score or two for the sake of their skins and fat. The skins we drew carefully off for harness and clothing, and the fat we boiled down for oil, which we put aside in casks for tanning, soap-making, and burning in lamps.

These occupations interfered for some time with our work at Rock House; but as soon as possible we again returned to our labor with renewed vigor.

I had noticed that the salt crystals had for their base a species of gypsum, which I knew might be made of great service to us in our building operations as plaster.

As an experiment, I broke off some pieces, and, after subjecting them to great heat, reduced them to powder. The plaster this formed with water was smooth and white, and as I had then no particular use to which I might put it, I plastered over some of the herring casks, that I might be perfectly certain that all air was excluded. The remainder of the casks I left as they were, for I presently intended to preserve their contents by smoking. To do this, the boys and I built a small hut of reeds and branches, and then we strung our herrings on lines across the roof. On the floor we lit a great fire of brushwood and moss, which threw out a dense smoke, curling in volumes round the fish, and they in a few days seemed perfectly cured.

About a month after the appearance of the herrings, we were favored by a visit from other shoals of fish. Jack espied them first, and called to us that a lot of young whales were off the coast. We ran down and discovered the bay apparently swarming with great sturgeons, salmon, and trout, all making for the mouth of Jackal River, that they might ascend it and deposit their spawn among the stones.

Jack was delighted at his discovery.

"Here are proper fish!" he exclaimed; "none of your paltry fry. How do you preserve these sorts of fish? Potted, salted, or smoked?"

"Not so fast," said I, "not so fast; tell me how they are to be caught, and I will tell you how they are to be cooked."

"Oh! I'll catch them fast enough," he replied, and darted off to Rock House.

While I was still puzzling my brains as to how I should set to work, he returned with his fishing apparatus in hand; a bow and arrow, and a ball of twine.

At the arrow-head he had fastened a barbed spike, and had secured the arrow to the end of the string. Armed with this weapon, he advanced to the river's edge.

His arrow flew from the bow, and, to my surprise, struck one of the largest fish in the side.

"Help, father, help!" he cried, as the great fish darted off, carrying arrow and all with it; "help! or he will pull me into the water."

I ran to his assistance, and together we struggled with the finny monster. He pulled tremendously, and lashed the water around him; but we held the cord fast, and he had no chance of escape. Weaker and weaker grew his struggles, and, at length, exhausted by his exertions and loss of blood, he allowed us to draw him ashore.

He was a noble prize, and Fritz and Ernest, who came up just as we completed his capture, were quite envious of Jack's success. Not to be behindhand, they eagerly rushed off for weapons themselves.

We were soon all in the water, Fritz with a harpoon, Ernest with a rod and line, and I myself, armed, like Neptune, with an iron trident, or more properly speaking, perhaps, a pitchfork. Soon the shore was strewn with a goodly number of the finest fish—monster after monster we drew to land. At length Fritz, after harpooning a great sturgeon full eight feet long, could not get the fish ashore; we all went to his assistance, but our united efforts were unavailing.

"The buffalo!" proposed my wife, and off went Jack for Storm. Storm was harnessed to the harpoon rope, and soon the monstrous fish lay panting on the sand.

We at length, when we had captured as many fish as we could possibly utilize, set about cleaning and preparing their flesh. Some we salted, some we dried like the herrings, some we treated like the tunny of the Mediterranean—we prepared them in oil. Of the roe of the sturgeon I decided to form caviar, the great Russian dish. I removed from it all the membranes by which it is surrounded, washed it in vinegar, salted it, pressed out all the moisture caused by the wet-absorbing properties of the salt, packed it in small barrels, and stowed it away in our storehouse.

I knew that of the sturgeon's bladder the best isinglass is made, so carefully collecting the air-bladders from all those we had killed, I washed them and hung them up to stiffen. The outer coat or membrane I then peeled off, cutting the remainder into strips, technically called staples. These staples I placed in an iron pot over the fire, and when they had been reduced to a proper consistency I strained off the glue through a clean cloth, and spread it out on a slab of stone in thin layers, letting them remain until they were dry. The substance I thus obtained was beautifully transparent, and promised to serve as an excellent substitute for glass in our window-frames.

Fortunately, in this beautiful climate little or no attention was necessary to the kitchen garden, the seeds sprang up and nourished without apparently the slightest regard for the time or season of the year. Peas, beans, wheat, barley, rye, and Indian corn seemed constantly ripe, while cucumbers, melons, and all sorts of other vegetables grew luxuriantly. The success of our garden at Tentholm encouraged me to hope that my experiment at Falconhurst had not failed, and one morning we started to visit the spot.

As we passed by the field from which the potatoes had been dug, we found it covered with barley, wheat, rye, and peas in profusion.

I turned to the mother in amazement.

"Where has this fine crop sprung from?" said I.

"From the earth," she replied laughing, "where Franz and I sowed the seed I brought from the wreck. The ground was ready tilled by you and the boys; all we had to do was to scatter the seed."

I was delighted at the sight, and it augured well, I thought, for the success of my maize plantation. We hurried to the field. The crop had indeed grown well, and, what was more, appeared to be duly appreciated. A tremendous flock of feathered thieves rose as we approached. Among them Fritz espied a few ruffed grouse, and, quick as thought, unhooding his eagle, he started him off in chase, then sprung on his onager and followed at full gallop. His noble bird marked out the finest grouse, and, soaring high above it, stooped and bore his prey to the ground. Fritz was close at hand, and springing through the bushes he saved the bird from death, hooded the eagle's eyes, and returned triumphantly. Jack had not stood idle, for slipping his pet, Fangs, he had started him among some quails who remained upon the field, and to my surprise the jackal secured some dozen of the birds, bringing them faithfully to his master's feet.

We then turned our steps toward Falconhurst, where we were refreshed by a most delicious drink the mother prepared for us: the stems of the young Indian corn, crushed, strained, and mixed with water and the juice of the sugar-cane.

We then made preparations for an excursion the following day, for I wished to establish a sort of semi-civilized farm at some distance from Falconhurst, where we might place some of our animals, which had become too numerous with our limited means to supply them with food. In the large cart, to which we harnessed the buffalo, cow, and ass, we placed a dozen fowls, four young pigs, two couple of sheep, and as many goats, and a pair of hens and one c**k grouse. Fritz led the way on his onager, and by a new track we forced a passage through the woods and tall grasses toward Cape Disappointment.

The difficult march was at length over, and we emerged from the forest upon a large plain covered with curious little bushes; the branches of these little shrubs and the ground about them were covered with pure white flakes.

"Snow! snow!" exclaimed Franz. "Oh, mother, come down from the cart and play snowballs. This is jolly; much better than the ugly rain."

I was not surprised at the boy's mistake, for indeed the flakes did look like snow; but before I could express my opinion, Fritz declared that the plant must be a kind of dwarf cotton tree. We approached nearer and found he was right—soft fine wool inclosed in pods, and still hanging on the bushes or lying on the ground, abounded in every direction. We had indeed discovered this valuable plant. The mother was charmed; and gathering a great quantity in three capacious bags, we resumed our journey.

Crossing the cotton field we ascended a pretty wooded hill. The view from the summit was glorious: luxuriant grass at our feet stretching down the hillside, dotted here and there with shady trees, among which gushed down a sparkling brook, while below lay the rich green forest, with the sea beyond.

What better situation could we hope to find for our new farm? Pasture, water, shade, and shelter, all were here.

We pitched our tent, built our fireplace, and leaving the mother to prepare our repast, Fritz and I selected a spot for the erection of our shed. We soon found a group of trees so situated that the trunks would serve as posts for our intended building. Thither we carried all our tools, and then, as the day was far advanced, enjoyed our supper, and lay down upon most comfortable beds, which the mother had prepared for us with the cotton.

The group of trees we had selected was exactly suited to our purpose, for it formed a regular rectilinear figure, the greatest side of which faced the sea. I cut deep mortices in the trunks about ten feet from the ground, and again ten feet higher up to form a second story. In these mortices I inserted beams, thus forming a framework for my building, and then, making a roof of laths, I overlaid it with bark, which I stripped from a neighboring tree, and fixed with acacia thorns, and which would effectually shoot off any amount of rain.

While clearing up the scraps of bark and other rubbish for fuel for our fire, I noticed a peculiar smell, and stooping down I picked up pieces of the bark, some of which, to my great surprise, I found was that of the terebinth tree, and the rest that of the American fir. The goats, too, made an important discovery among the same heap, for we found them busily rooting out pieces of cinnamon, a most delicious and aromatic spice.

"From the fir," said I to the boys, "we get turpentine and tar, and thus it is that the fir tree becomes such a valuable article of commerce. So we may look forward to preparing pitch for our yacht, with tar and oil, you know, and cart-grease, too, with tar and fat. I do not know that you will equally appreciate the terebinth tree. A gum issues from incisions in the bark which hardens in the sun, and becomes as transparent as amber; when burned it gives forth a most delicious perfume, and when dissolved in spirits of wine, forms a beautiful transparent varnish."