CHAPTER XLII

Discovery of a Crystal Grotto—Further Exploration

We had nothing more to fear from the neighbourhood of the boa; but I was afraid it might have either left its mate (it was a female) behind it, or else a nest of little ones, which in time would spread terror through the land. I resolved, in consequence, to undertake two expeditions—the one through the marsh, the other toward Falcon’s Nest, through the passage in the rock, where I supposed the boa had got through.

We set out loaded with our hunting equipage. We carried, besides our arms, some boards, and the bladders of sea-dogs, to sustain us on the water if necessary. The boards we wanted to assist us in our march; for, by placing one before the other, and taking them up, we made a solid walk of wood. This was a great convenience, and enabled us to search the marsh thoroughly. We easily recognized traces of the boa; the rushes were bent down where it had passed through, and there were deep spiral impressions in the wet ground where it had rested its enormous rings. But we discovered nothing that induced us to believe that the boa had a companion: we found neither eggs, nor little ones—nothing but a nest of dried rushes, and I did not think that the boa had constructed even that. Arrived at the end of the marsh, we made an interesting discovery; it was that of a new grotto, which opened out of the rock, and out of which flowed a little stream that passed on among the rushes of the marsh.

The grotto was hung with stalactites, which rose in immense columns on each side, as if to sustain the vault, and formed themselves into singular and beautiful designs. We remained some time in admiration of this miracle of nature, and as we walked on, I remarked that the ground upon which we trod was composed of an extremely fine and white sort of earth, which, after examining it, I recognized as being “fullers’ clay.” I immediately gathered some handfuls, and carefully placed them in my pocket-handkerchief.

“Here,” said I to my sons, who were regarding me with astonishment, “here is a discovery that will be very welcome to your mother; and henceforth, if we bring her dirty clothes, we will bring her something to wash them with, for here is soap.”

“I thought,” said Ernest, “that soap was the result of human industry, and not a production of the earth.”

“You thought right; the soap that is ordinarily used is composed of a certain salt, the acidity of which is corrected by the addition of grease and so forth, which weakens its power greatly. But this fabrication is tedious and costly, and men have been so fortunate as to find a sort of earth in which is united certain qualities of the soap; it is this we have found, and it is called ‘fullers’ clay,’ because it is used to clean woollen goods.”

We had approached the source of the spring while conversing; and Fritz, who was a little in advance, cried out that the rock had a large opening on one side. We ran forward, and soon found ourselves in a new cavern. We fired off a pistol, and we were able to judge by the echo that the grotto extended to a great distance. We then lighted two candles, with which our knapsacks were provided; they burned without obstacle, and the pure light assured us of the salubrity of the air. Having left the others behind, Fritz and I continued to advance, when suddenly we saw our torches reflected from every side of the rock.

“Ah, papa,” cried Fritz, in a transport of joy, “see! see! a salt grotto! look at the enormous blocks of salt lying at our feet.”

“You are very much mistaken, indeed,” I answered; “these masses are not salt; if they were, the water which drips from the rock would have melted them long ago; instead of salt it is crystal: we are really in a palace of rock-crystal.”

“Better yet—a palace of crystal! what an immense treasure for us!”

“Yes; such a treasure as the gold mine was to Robinson Crusoe.”

When we reappeared at the entrance of the grotto, we found Jack alone. He conducted us to the border of the swamp, where we found Ernest tranquilly employed in making a rush basket such as fishermen use, consisting of a frame of long stalks, terminated at the end by a funnel, through which the fish passed, but could not return.

“Quick, quick!” he cried, when he saw us approaching, “I have killed a young boa.”

We had been talking so much of serpents, etc., that the poor boy had mistaken a superb eel, four feet in length, for a snake; he had walked straight up to it, hit it two or three blows on the head with his gun, with as much courage as would have sufficed to kill a dozen boas.

The examination that I made of the snake humbled the pride of the victor; but the eel was a great treat for us, and we returned home to Felsenheim.

I had as yet only half accomplished my design, and there remained all the country about the farmhouse yet unexplored; and besides, I wished, if it were possible, by fortifying the passages in the rock, to keep out all such visitors as the one we had lately received. I made sure, before we set out, against any accident that might happen: we took plenty of provisions, arms, vessels of all sorts, torches to scare away all intruders on our night encampments, in short, everything that would render our excursion safer and less disagreeable.

We advanced in good order along the avenue of Falcon’s Nest, and discovered the marks of the boa’s progress half effaced by the wind. We found everything in good order at the Nest; the harvest and the fruit-trees gave promise of an abundant crop. The goats and sheep received us joyfully, and came up of their own accord to receive some salt we threw them in passing. We did not stop, as the Lake farmhouse was the object of our expedition; and we wished to arrive as soon as possible, in order to gather, before night, cotton enough to make some pillows and mattresses that might render our slumbers more agreeable.

The farther we advanced, the fewer traces we found of the serpent. We could not see a single monkey in the cocoa-wood; and the crowing of our cocks, mingled with the bleating of our herds, gave promise of good order at the farmhouse; and we were not disappointed. As soon as we arrived, our good housekeeper set about procuring us some dinner, while we went to gather the cotton.

After dinner I announced that we would immediately commence our search, and we divided into three parties, each one charged to explore a part of the country. Ernest and his mother had, for their division, the guard of the provisions and the collection of all the ripe blades in the rice-field; to defend them we left our brave dog Billy. Fritz and Jack, accompanied by Turk and the jackal, took the right bank of the lake, while I followed the left, with Francis, and his two young dogs. It was the first time that the little fellow had shared in any of our expeditions, or had had a gun entrusted to him; he marched along with his head up, and as proud as a new-made officer; and he burned with ardour to make trial of his new weapon. But the noise of our steps among the dried rushes frightened only some herons, and they flew so suddenly and quickly that it was impossible to shoot them. Francis began to grow despairing at his ill success, when suddenly we found ourselves in presence of an innumerable quantity of wild geese and black swans, which covered the waters in all directions. Frank was just about to fire into the mass, when suddenly a sort of deep, prolonged cry, like a bellow, issued from the middle of the rushes. We stopped, astonished, and a second after the cry was repeated.

“I am sure,” said Francis, “that it is the little onagra.”

“Impossible,” said I; “he would not leave his mother; and, besides, we must have heard him as he passed along. It is more likely to be a swamp-bird, called a bittern.”

I called the dogs to my side, and, setting them in the rushes, presently heard the report of Francis’s gun. But, instead of firing in the air, he had discharged his gun right into the thickest part of the rushes, and I saw the birds that the dogs had disturbed flying away safe and sound.

“You awkward fellow,” said I; “you have let your game escape you.”

“On the contrary, papa, I have him! I have him!” repeated he, with passionate emotion. “Look!”

So saying, he pulled out of the rushes an animal resembling an agouti, and which the little hunter had already christened by that name.

I examined it with attention, and discovered that there was much difference between it and the agouti.

This one was about two feet in length, had incisor teeth like the rabbit, webbed feet, long snout, but no tail at all.

“You have killed a rare and curious beast,” said I to my little boy. “It is an inhabitant of South America, of the same family as the agouti and peccaries, but much rarer. It is a cabiai, and what is more, a cabiai of the largest size.”

“And what sort of an animal is this cabiai? I have never heard of him before.”

“Oh, yes; you heard him bray just now; for it was his cry that I attributed to the bittern. This animal profits by the darkness of night to provide his food: he runs fast, can swim well, and has the power of remaining a long time under water; he eats seated on his hind legs; and as to his cry, it sounds exactly like the braying of an ass.”

But it was now time to return home, and Francis rejoiced at the prospect of his triumph over his brothers. He took up his cabiai, threw it over his shoulder, and although I saw that it was much too heavy for him, I thought I would let him have the merit of the whole affair.

We found, on returning, Master Ernest tranquilly seated on the bank of the river, and surrounded by a prodigious number of enormous rats which he had killed. The phlegmatic philosopher then recounted to us the history of this massacre.

“We were occupied,” said he, “my mother and I, in collecting the ripe rice-blades, when I discovered, at a little distance, a sort of high, solid causeway, which looked like a road constructed in the middle of the swamp. I immediately set off to discover what it was, and Master Knips with me. But we had scarcely advanced one step when he darted from my side in pursuit of an animal that quickly disappeared in a sort of hole bored in the causeway. I remarked, on advancing, that the two sides of the bank were pierced all along with these holes, all of the same form and size. I was curious to know what they contained, and I introduced into the opening a long bamboo cane that I had in my hand. I had scarcely drawn it out when there issued forth a legion of animals similar to the first. Knips ran after them; but the rice grew so thick that he could not get along. An idea then occurred to me to place my rice-sack over the hole. I did so; and beating the top of the causeway with a stick, a great number ran into the sack. I then began to beat the bag with my stick, so as to kill the prisoners. But imagine my surprise when I found myself assailed by a whole army of rats who emerged from every side, and began to run up my pantaloons. Knips made most desperate attempts. I could do nothing with my stick, and I cannot tell what might have happened if Billy had not heard my voice, and come to my assistance. He rushed bravely upon the army of rats, and made so terrible a slaughter that the enemy fled in terror. Those that you behold fell victims to my stick and the formidable teeth of Billy; the rest of the army took refuge in their holes.”

The narration of Ernest excited my curiosity, and I wished to see for myself the causeway with its inhabitants, and I recognized a series of works similar to those of the beaver, with the single difference, that they were not so extensive. I made my sons observe the conformity that existed between these animals and the beaver of the north; both had the same membrane at the feet to facilitate swimming; both had the flat tail, and both were provided with two little bags of musk.

Fritz and Jack returned during these conversations; they brought back a ruffled moor-hen and a nest of eggs: we placed them under one of our hens that happened to be sitting at the time. We then all united around a savoury mess of rice that my good wife had prepared. She had cooked a small piece of the cabiai; but it was detestable, and we abandoned it to our dogs, who would not taste the flesh of the rats on account of the smell of musk.

The repast was a merry one. We were all delighted to have found no traces of the boa; and my mischievous boys showered a flood of epigrams upon the “Conqueror of Rats,” as they called poor Ernest.

The conversation naturally turned upon what we should do with our rat-skins; and it was determined upon to make a carpet of them, to preserve the floor of our house dry. Our first care was to clean them with sand and ashes, as we were accustomed to do.

Presently Jack and Francis ran to their knapsacks.

“Look here, sir!” said the youngest, as he threw some pine cones before the philosopher.

“Look here, sir!” said Jack, placing on the table some little shining apples, of a pale green, which exhaled a strong odour of cinnamon.

A general cry of admiration greeted them.

“Stop!” cried I. “Before tasting this fruit, Master Knips must undergo the customary trial, for I am afraid these are the fruit of the manchineel tree; and the manchineel apples produce most terrible colics.”

I then opened one of the fruit, and discovered that I had been deceived by the appearance. The manchineel apple has a nut, and these had very small seeds, like the common apple. While I was showing this difference to my children, Master Knips snatched one of the apples from the table and commenced to eat it, smacking his lips as if it were something excellent. This determined the matter. I distributed the fruit, and on tasting them we declared them most excellent. Fritz wished to know their name.

“They are,” said I, “cinnamon apples; I think you gathered them from a low shrub; did you not, Jack?”

“Oh, yes, yes—shrub—cinnamon. I am falling asleep,” stammered out the stupid fellow.

I then gave the signal for retiring. We took all necessary precautions for safety during the night, and we sought, on our mattresses of cotton, the repose that the fatigues of the day had rendered necessary.