CHAPTER L

Return of the Boys—Their Adventures—Harvesting—Partridges and Quails

Toward evening we began to grow anxious about the return of the boys, when suddenly Jack appeared in the distance. He arrived at full gallop on his ostrich, having left his brothers far behind. He brought nothing with him, pretending that his courser would receive no other burden than himself. Fritz and Francis coming up, we discovered that each of them carried before him a sack full of game, the products of the chase, in which they had been extremely fortunate; and they had brought back with them four of those beasts whom we had christened “beasts with a bill,” twenty ondatras, one monkey, a kangaroo, and two varieties of the musk-rat, which they had found in the swamp.

During supper, each one recounted his adventures, Fritz describing their passage through the valley, the attack of the ondatras and the beavers. “We also,” said he, “then saw those ‘beasts with a bill’ coming out of the swamp to partake of a repast not intended for them. We then caught a fish or two in the lake; and relieving our dinner with a plate of ginseng cooked in the ashes, sat down to our humble meal.”

“Pooh, pooh!” cried Jack the boaster; “who cares for rats and fishes? It is to my courser and me that you owe this royal prize, this noble kangaroo.”

“Oh, yes,” added Francis, “a prize very easy to take, as it remained quiet until you came up and shot it.”

“For my part,” continued Fritz, “I have brought home nothing but a plant: but it is of more value than the kangaroo. Examine these thistles, I beg of you; see their hard, sharp points. Will they not be excellent to card the hair in manufacturing our hats?”

Each one of our young adventurers had a thousand different stories to relate, each one vaunting his own prowess and extolling his share in the events of the day. I had no time to listen to their boastings, and I turned to examine the products of the expedition and determine their use. The thistles of Fritz, which I recognized as being the “carding-thistle,” were received by me as a precious discovery—one more instrument added to our resources. My sons had also brought home some cuttings of sweet potatoes and cinnamon: their good mother received them with joy; and the next morning they were carefully planted in the kitchen garden.

The grain that we had sown before the rainy season, I perceived, had now come to maturity, although it was not more than five months since we had confided it to the earth. We now had our hands full of business. The herrings would soon arrive, then the sea-dogs would come; and my dear Elizabeth lamented piteously while she enumerated all the labour we yet had to perform. There was the manioc to dig up, the potatoes to gather and sow—in short, a thousand cares to attend to, a thousand labours to undertake, that would occupy more time than the year has days.

I tranquillized my good companion as well as I was able, assuring her that the manioc would not be injured by remaining in the ground; and as to the potatoes, I informed her that she had nothing to fear for this precious fruit, as our soil was warm and sandy, and they would keep a great while in the earth.

I decided that our labours should commence with the grain, the chief and best of our resources; but wishing to effect the harvest in the shortest possible time, and with the smallest expenditure of strength, I resolved to adopt the Italian method rather than the Swiss.

I commenced by levelling a large space before the grotto, to serve as a threshing-floor. We then, after having well watered it, beat the earth for a long time with clubs. When the sun had dried it up, the operation was repeated, and we continued it until we obtained a solid, flat surface, without a crack in it, and almost as impenetrable to water as to the sun’s rays.

On arriving at the field we were about to reap, my wife asked me where I would find anything with which to tie up the blades into sheaves.

“We will need nothing of the sort,” said I; “everything is to be done according to the Italian method. Those people, naturally averse to labour, never use sheaves, as being too heavy to carry.”

“How, then,” asked Fritz, “do they manage to carry their harvest home?”

“You will soon see,” said I.

At the same time I gathered up in my left hand all the stalks it could contain, and taking a long knife in my right hand, I cut off the stalks about six inches below the head. I then threw the handful into a basket. “There,” said I, laughing, to Fritz, “there is the first act of an Italian harvest.”

My children thought it was an admirable plan; and in a short time the plain presented but an unequal surface, bristling with decapitated stalks, here and there dotted with a forgotten blade.

We now hastened to the grotto, taking with us the grain we had cut. When we arrived there, Ernest and his mother received orders to sprinkle the blades over the threshing-floor I had prepared, while my three cavaliers stood by their coursers’ sides, laughing at our new invention for threshing grain.

When everything was prepared, “To the saddle!” cried I, “to the saddle!” and I told them they had nothing to do but display their horsemanship among the grain. I leave the screams, the shouts of laughter to the imagination of readers; the bull, the onagra, and the ostrich rivalled each other in swiftness; my wife, Ernest, and I, each one armed with a pitchfork, followed after them, throwing the grain under the feet of the animals.

When the grain was all threshed, we set to work to clear it of the straws and dirt that had become mixed with it. This was the most difficult and the most painful part of all the labour. We laid the grain on close hurdles, and with wooden flails we endeavoured to disengage the dirt; but this was not to be effected, except at the expense of our eyes, mouth, or nose. The poor little workmen coughed terribly, and we were obliged to desist every few moments to clear our throats.

We were several days engaged in these works, and we wished to see exactly how much we possessed. We found ourselves rich enough to defy all attacks of famine; we had sixty bushels of barley, eighty of wheat, and more than a hundred of maize, from which I concluded that the soil was more favourable to this last than to the barley and the other European grains we had sown at the same time. We had not prepared the maize as we had the other grains; but after having dried the stalks, we detached the grains by beating them with long, flexible whips; we took this care because we wanted its soft and elastic leaves to stuff our mattresses.

I had not lost sight of my intention of obtaining a second harvest before the end of the season, and we now set to work to clear our fields of the straw; but we had scarcely commenced when we beheld an innumerable swarm of quails and partridges start up from the dried stalks, where they had been enticed by the few blades of grain we had left behind. As we were unprepared for them, they all escaped, save one quail, which Fritz brought down with a stone; but the presence of these birds after the harvest was a precious discovery for following years, and we anticipated with pleasure the superb chase of quails and partridges we should have after our harvests.

When the land was all cleared I sowed it anew; but remembering what I had learned in Europe, not to exhaust the soil, I varied my original mode of operation, and contented myself by sowing, for the second crop, wheat and oats.

Our agricultural labours were scarcely finished, when the bank of herrings appeared off Safety Bay. Our winter provisions being so abundant, we did not take as many as customary of these; and we contented ourselves with preparing two barrels, one of salted and one of smoked herrings; we also preserved some of the fish alive, which we put in the Jackal’s River, so that at any time we could obtain them.