CHAPTER XLIX

Return of the Rainy Season—A New Want—The Cajack

The rainy season was now rapidly approaching, and we were soon obliged to give up our excursions. The winds and the rain commenced; the sky that had so long been clear became dark with storm-clouds; terrible tempests announced the approach of winter; and we closed the door of our grotto, happy in having such a comfortable shelter.

The turning-wheel was continually in motion. We improved the quality of our fabrications more and more, and we manufactured utensils that at the outset we had despaired of ever possessing.

We had preserved the shells of the ostrich-eggs, and having divided them by means of a string steeped in vinegar, we converted the halves into elegant vases. I turned some wooden pedestals on which they were placed, and we thus obtained drinking-cups and vases for flowers in summer.

But these labours were much more interesting to me than to my young family, and I feared that the inactivity to which I saw them reduced would render them indolent. Ernest found occupation enough in his books; but his brothers never entered the library unless when driven by necessity. I felt the urgency of providing some active occupation for them, and one more to their taste than literature; but I could not think of anything, when Fritz came to my assistance.

“We have,” said he, “in the person of our ostrich, a splendid post-horse, with which to travel the highways of our kingdom; we have carts to transport our provisions; a pinnace, and a canoe, which are riding majestically at anchor in Safety Bay; but one thing is yet wanting: we have need of an equipage that will glide over the surface of the water, as the ostrich does over the sand. I have read that the Greenlanders have a sort of vessel which they call ‘cajack,’ and which I must have. Why cannot we construct one? We have constructed a canoe—why should we, civilized Europeans, not succeed in that which barbarous savages have attempted?”

I joyfully received the proposition of my son. The cajack, the only vessel of the Greenlander, is a sort of canoe in the form of a shell; and a piece of walrus-skin, with three or four strips of whalebone, are almost the only requisites for its construction. It is extremely light, and the navigator who has glided in it over the surface of the wave can easily carry it on his shoulder when he has arrived at land.

The strips of whalebone, bamboo-cane, and Spanish rushes, with some sea-dog skin, were the materials that we employed in making our cajack. Two arched strips of whalebone fastened at each end, and separated in the middle by a piece of bamboo fixed transversely across, formed the two sides of our canoe; other pieces of whalebone, woven in with rushes and moss, well covered with pitch, formed the skeleton.

When the skeleton was finished, and the interior covered with a coat of gum and moss, we commenced the construction of an envelope. For this I took the two entire skins of sea-calves, fastened one at each end of the canoe, and then drew them down under it, where they were strongly sewed together, and covered with a gum elastic coat, to render them impervious to water. I also cut out oars of bamboo, and fastened bladders to one end, so that they might be useful in case of accident. I also constructed, in the bow, a place to receive a sail, in case we should decide, at a future period, to put one there.

There was yet an important thing wanting in the completion of our Greenland boat: it was the equipment of him who was to manage it. I had often heard of a sort of apparel well known to those who dwell near the sea, and which consisted in enveloping a person in an airtight dress, lighter than the volume of liquid his body displaced. I described this apparel to my sons, narrated to them how the head of the swimmer was covered with a hood, furnished with a pipe intended to let in air when it was necessary to breathe under water. My description of the costume and the air-chimney fairly turned the boys’ heads, and they would not rest, night or day, until they persuaded me to ask their mother to construct such a suit for them.

My good Elizabeth, to whom our desires were as laws, kindly undertook the work; and so nimbly did her needle ply, that in a few days she had made a complete swimming-costume for Fritz.

A jacket of the skin of the whale’s entrails, hermetically sealed and sewed round the borders, so that the air could not possibly escape, was furnished with a flexible pipe, closed with a valve, so that it could be inflated or exhausted at the pleasure of its wearer.

The winter had glided insensibly away: reading, the study of languages, and other literary pursuits had been mingled with our domestic avocations, and helped to render the gloomy days we passed in the grotto more pleasant and agreeable. But our emancipation from the grotto was approaching: the wind calmed, the sea resumed its wonted placidity, the grass sprang up under our feet, and we revisited Falcon’s Nest, with its giant trees and its rich harvest of springing grain.

The swimming-costume was the last thing that we had made, and Fritz was anxious to make a trial of it; consequently, one fine afternoon, dinner over, he put on his jacket, which was drawn close round his neck; then his hood, with its pipe for air, was fitted to the jacket, and two pieces of talc inserted in such a manner as to enable him to see.

Our first movement, on seeing him thus accoutred, was to burst into a fit of laughter; but Fritz plunged gravely into the water, and struck out for Shark Island. We followed him in the canoe, and arrived about the same time. We unfastened his hood, and found that not a particle of water had penetrated it; every one was rejoiced at the success of the experiment, and we all persuaded our kind mother to make us one each.

We then set off to explore the island, and endeavour to discover what had become of the colony we had planted there. Our first visit was to the antelopes. They fled at our approach; but we saw with pleasure that they had devoured all the provisions we had provided them with. We strewed some rushes in their little hut, for a litter; and after renewing the stock of provisions, left the spot, so that the timid animals could return. My sons and I wandered over the island, gathering pieces of coral and beautiful shells to adorn our museum.

A second excursion to Shark Island gave us leisure to examine the different plantations we had made: they had succeeded admirably, and we found several young trees already some feet above the ground. Our rabbits had also prospered, and the family had increased to an enormous extent.

We made, too, a short excursion to Whale Island; our plantations here had also succeeded—all was prosperity around us. Our maritime possessions and those on terra firma afforded a most agreeable spectacle to the eyes of the proprietors. Abundance, richness, and a luxuriant vegetation gave promise of an excellent harvest.

One day, when I was occupied by my domestic cares in the interior of the grotto, three of my sons disappeared without saying anything; they carried with them their arms, provisions, and a number of rat-traps. The latter easily explained the secret of their expedition; they had gone for rat-skins in order to make some new hats. I wished them good luck, and thought nothing more of the matter.

Ernest, always fond of home, had remained reading in the library: my wife was occupied in the kitchen; and I resolved to imitate my sons, and attempt an excursion alone. I had need of some large blocks of wood with which to grind the grain we had gathered; but I would not cut down one of the trees around our habitation for fear of disfiguring our residence. I went to the stable for a horse; but all except the buffalo had disappeared, and I was obliged to be content with him. I soon fastened him to the sledge, and we set off in company in the direction of the Jackal’s River. I took with me Folb and Braun; the faithful Billy remained with Ernest, and Turk had gone off in the morning with his young masters.

My intention in choosing the river road was that in passing I might take a look at our plantations of manioc and potatoes which extended along its bank. I had not seen this land, which we had prepared with a great deal of trouble, for four months prior, and I expected to find an abundant harvest preparing for us. Judge, then, of my surprise, on approaching, to find the whole plantation a scene of ruin: the roots that had just begun to sprout were all trodden under foot, or scattered over the ground—in a word, it was a scene of utter desolation. I thought at first that perhaps my sons had gathered the harvest; but the prints in the moist earth soon revealed the authors of this devastation: it had been done either by the wild pigs, or else by the family of our old sow.

My brave companions, Folb and Braun, had gone off in search of the despoilers; and they soon returned, driving before them a whole herd of pigs, at the head of which trotted our old sow, grunting most melodiously. I was so irritated at the unlucky animals, that almost instinctively I raised my gun, and by a single shot brought down two young porkers. The others took to flight, and the dogs would have pursued them, but I called them back, and, cutting off the heads of the two pigs, gave them to them. I then placed the bodies on the sledge, and having marked with a hatchet the trees I had chosen, so that I should know them again, I set off for Felsenheim, with a saddened heart at the devastation I had witnessed.