CHAPTER LVIII

Adventures of Fritz—Sir Edward Montrose—Our Adopted Sister—Attack of Wolves—Preparations for Return

When we had freed Fritz from our oft-repeated embraces, we commenced asking him all manner of questions; and, speaking all together, the poor fellow was so confused he did not know what to do. I demanded an answer on two points only—whether his excursion had been satisfactory, and why he had played this farce of dressing himself like a savage, and causing us such anxiety.

“As to the purpose of my excursion,” said he, with a joy he could scarcely conceal, “I have attained it”; and the young man, as he said these words, pressed my hand, which he held in his. “As for my costume, I mistook you for a tribe of Malays, or some other nation, and, in the fear that you were enemies, I endeavoured to disguise myself by painting the upper part of my body with powder, soaked in water. The two reports of the cannon that I heard convinced me more and more that you were enemies; the Malay words that you addressed to me confirmed me, and I should still have been endeavouring to deceive you, and you would still have been in fear of me, if Jack had not bawled out those sailor-phrases in his unmistakable voice.”

We all began to laugh over the farce we had been enacting; and Fritz, drawing me aside, said, in an eager, joyous tone, “I have succeeded, papa: the hand of God conducted me to the dwelling-place of the poor shipwrecked girl—for it was a woman that had written those lines. Three years has she lived on that smoking rock, all alone, destitute of everything! Can you believe it, but the poor girl has conjured me not to betray her sex, except to you and my mother. I have brought her with me: she is near by, on a little island just beyond the Bay of Pearls; come and see her. Oh! do not say anything to my brothers. I want to enjoy their surprise when they find I have brought them back a sister, for I am sure she will allow them to call her so.”

I consented to the wish of my son, and, without saying anything to the rest of the family, I ordered them to hoist the sails, weigh anchor, and make ready to depart. Fritz, who had changed his dress and washed off his disguise, flew about, hastening his less eager brothers; then, jumping into his cajack, he piloted us through the shoals and reefs that were scattered along the coast. After an hour’s sailing he turned off, and directed his course toward a shady island not far from the Bay of Pearls; we sailed close up to the shore, and fastened the pinnace to the trunk of a fallen tree. Fritz, however, was quicker than we, and he was on shore, and had entered a little wood in the middle of the island before we had yet landed. We followed him into the wood, and soon found ourselves in the vicinity of a hut, built like those of the Hottentots, with a fire burning before it, on which some fish were cooking in a large shell. Fritz uttered a peculiar kind of halloo, and what was our surprise to see, descending from a large tree, a young and handsome sailor, who, turning his timid eyes on us, stood still, as if he dared not approach!

It was such a long time since we had seen a man—ten years!—society had become so strange a thing to us, that we remained stupefied; our hearts felt for the young stranger, but our tongues remained dumb.

The silence was broken by Fritz, who, taking the young sailor by the hand, advanced toward us. “My father, my mother, and you, my brothers,” said he, in a voice broken by emotion, “behold a friend—a brother—that I present you, a new companion in misfortune—Sir Edward Montrose, who, like ourselves, has been shipwrecked on the coast.”

“He is welcome among us,” was the general cry; and, approaching the young sailor, whom I easily recognized as being a woman, and taking her by the hand, I comforted and encouraged her, assuring the seeming man, that among us he would always find food and sustenance; my wife and myself would be his parents, and my sons his brothers. My wife, moved by compassion, opened her arms, and the young sailor rushed into them, bursting into a flood of tears, as he thanked us for our kindness. The most lively joy now reigned in our little circle, and his brothers poured question after question upon Fritz, who joyfully replied, “I will tell you all afterward; let us attend now to our new brother.” Supper was served, and my wife brought out a bottle of her spiced hydromel to add to the feast. Everybody spoke at once, and my sons addressed their new companion with such vivacity as to embarrass the timid stranger: my wife saw his distress, and, as it was late, she gave the signal for retirement, taking the sailor with her on the pinnace where she said she intended to provide a bed for him that would amply console him for the uncomfortable nights he had hitherto passed. We then separated, my wife and the stranger retiring to the boat, while my sons and I stopped to light and arrange our watch-fires.

The new-comer naturally became the subject of conversation, and Fritz recounted to his brothers the whole history of the albatross. He spoke of his thoughts and actions, but he became so excited in his narration, that he forgot himself and the secret he had to keep. A word escaped him, and he called the young sailor “Emily.”

“Emily!—Emily!” repeated his brothers, who had begun to doubt the mystery; “Emily!—Fritz has deceived us, and Sir Edward is a girl!—our adopted brother turned into a sister!”

I leave to the imagination to picture the embarrassment of Fritz when he discovered his imprudence. In vain he endeavoured to bring back his words: it would not do, and the girl could no longer hide her sex by the hat and pantaloons.

The next morning it was a comic sight to see the embarrassment and awkwardness with which my sons approached one whom they had the day before embraced as a companion and a brother. My poor boys were not acquainted with the usages of polite society and the ease it inspires, and they appeared to a great disadvantage by the side of the beautiful English girl. The name of sister was substituted for that of brother, but pronounced with reserve and embarrassment. As for Emily, she was very much astonished at the discovery the young men had made, and she retreated, as if for protection, to the arms of my wife; but a moment after, recovering herself, she advanced, and extending her hand to each one of the boys, gracefully demanded for the sister the friendship they had extended to the brother. Gaiety was re-established, and we sat down to breakfast, which was composed of fruits, cold meat, and chocolate of our own making, which was a great treat to my new daughter, and recalled her native land to her mind. After breakfast I proposed to weigh anchor and return to the Bay of Pearls, where the cachalot stranded on the shore offered us a magnificent prey. Arrived there, we debated in what manner we could carry away the oily substance with which the head and dorsal bone of this animal is filled. Unfortunately we had no barrels in which we could gather the precious product. Emily rescued us from our dilemma, by mentioning a process she had seen employed in India, which was, to put the half-liquid substance in wet linen bags. The idea appeared excellent, and we immediately put it into practice. I gathered all the sacks I could find, and dipping them in the sea-water, stretched them open with pieces of branches. We were two hours engaged in these preparations. The tide was not yet high enough to allow the pinnace to approach the bank, where the whale lay; but we took the canoe and the cajack and set off, leaving the two women under the safeguard of Turk, and taking with us Folb, Braun, and the jackal. The monster lay extended like a huge wall; our dogs ran up to it, and a moment after we heard some animals howling dreadfully. We hastened up, and found our brave dogs valiantly contending with a troop of black wolves, who were devouring the whale. Two of their number were already stretched on the sand, two others were yet engaged with the dogs, and the rest fled at our approach toward a little wood.

Our dogs acquitted themselves bravely: four wolves lay stretched upon the sand, but the noble animals had paid dearly for their victory; the blood streamed from all parts of their bodies, and the ears of Folb especially were dreadfully torn. Jack dressed their wounds with some hydromel, while Fritz and Francis aided me in another work. The former, after having armed his feet with cramp-irons, climbed like a cat up the back of the monster, and cut open the enormous head of the cachalot with a hatchet, and then with a ladle dipped the spermaceti out of the head, and emptied it into one of the sacks which I held ready, while Francis covered the outside with wet sand and mortar, forming a solid crust through which none of the grease could escape. Our sacks were soon full, for as fast as Fritz emptied the head the cavity was filled by a fresh supply from the backbone. The operation was very fatiguing, and I was glad when it was over. We then cut a quantity of willows, and wove them into little pointed caps, with which we covered the sacks, in order to shield them from the sun and the birds of prey, who were fast assembling in great numbers.

We now thought of returning. The tide was high, but the load was too heavy for the boat; we therefore were obliged to leave it and return to the verdant little island, which we had named “Good Rencounter,” because there we had first found Emily. The appearance of the sacks ranged on the sand was very droll; they exactly resembled little Chinese with their pointed hats, and we could not help laughing heartily at the sight.

After having recounted our adventures, and shown our four fine black wolves, with their superb skins, we were invited by our dear housekeepers to sit down to an excellent dinner, enriched by a new dish—a sauce after the manner of the Caribbees, made with eggs of land-crabs, with which the island abounded. I was undecided as to what means I should adopt to transport the spermaceti to the island, for the pinnace could not approach the bank near enough, without risk of running aground, and our other boats were not large enough. Every one gave his advice; when it came to Emily’s turn, she observed, in her soft, silvery tone, “If you are willing, my dear papa”—for already she had accustomed herself to address me by that endearing name—“if you are willing, while you and my brothers are engaged in that disgusting tannery, I will promise to bring over your sacks.”

The next morning, before my sons were awake, Emily prepared for her expedition; she took a bladder of fresh water, a basket of provisions, and lightly descending the ladder of the pinnace, she seated herself in Fritz’s cajack, untied it, and rowed off with a grace and ease that surprised me. I would have called her back, but the little vixen gaily kissed her hand, and soon was far on her way toward the bank of sand. She had chosen just the right time; the tide was rising, and had just commenced to wet the bottom of the sacks. The adventurous girl jumped on shore, fastened all the sacks by cords to a rope which she had with her, and tied the rope to the cajack, and again embarking, drew after her all the sacks, the contents of which, being light, floated like bladders on the water.

It was now full noon; we sat down to table, and, after dinner, began our preparations for setting out for Felsenheim, where we desired to instal our new companion. We packed up everything we had, including Emily’s treasures, both those she had saved from shipwreck and those she had made herself. Fritz had made her a box which held them all, and they really were very curious, consisting of clothes, ornaments, domestic utensils, and all sorts of articles which she had made in her exile, out of the scanty material she had at her disposal.

Emily now bade adieu to the island that had received her, and the trees that had sheltered her, during her short sojourn. We could not leave the place without giving it a name, so we called the bay in which we anchored “Happy Bay,” in allusion to the joyful meeting we had had there. We now took the direction of the Bay of Pearls, where we were obliged to make a short stay before returning to Felsenheim, to which we were impatient to introduce our new companion.