"A violent storm causes "Unicorn" to seek protection of the coast."
"A violent storm causes "Unicorn" to seek protection of the coast."
"A violent storm causes "Unicorn" to seek protection of the coast."
On the 13th of October several reports of cannon were heard from the same direction as the former ones.
To this fire, each discharge of which was separated by an interval of two minutes, theUnicornreplied with seven guns fired at equal intervals. Inasmuch as the new reports did not seem to come from any nearer point than those which had preceded them, the commander concluded that the ship whence they proceeded could not have changed her position in the meantime.
On this same day, about four o'clock in the afternoon, Lieutenant Littlestone, while pacing the bridge with his spyglass in use, caught sight of a little boat. Manned by two men, it was gliding between the rocks, coming from the promontory. These men, who were black-skinned, could only be Malay or Australian aborigines. Their presence was proof that this portion of the coast was inhabited, and accordingly steps were taken to be prepared for an attack, an eventuality always to be feared in these waters of the Indian Ocean.
However, the canoe drew near, a craft resembling an Esquimau kayak. It was allowed to approach. But when it was within three cables' length of the corvette, the two savages spoke in a language which was absolutely unintelligible.
Lieutenant Littlestone and his officers waved their handkerchiefs and held up their hands to show that they were unarmed. But the canoe showed no disposition to draw nearer. A moment later it sped rapidly away, to disappear behind the promontory.
At nightfall Lieutenant Littlestone took counsel with his officers as to sending the ship's longboat to reconnoitre the northern coast. The situation was certainly one which required to be cleared up. It could not have been the aborigines who had fired the guns which had been heard in the morning. Beyond all question there must be a ship on the west of the island, and perhaps she was in distress and asking for assistance.
Accordingly it was decided that a reconnaissance should be made next morning in that direction and the ship's boat was on the point of being launched, at nine o'clock, when Lieutenant Littlestone stopped the proceedings.
There had just appeared at the extreme point of the cape, not a kayak, nor yet one of the canoes commonly in use among the aborigines, but a light vessel of modern construction, a pinnace of some fifteen tons. As soon as she had drawn near theUnicornshe hoisted a red and white flag.
The astonishment of the commander, officers, and crew of the corvette can be imagined when they saw a canoe put off from the pinnace, carrying a white flag at the stern in sign of friendship, and make straight for the corvette.
Two men came aboard theUnicornand introduced themselves. They were Swiss, Jean Zermatt and his eldest son Fritz, survivors of the wreckedLandlord, of whom no news had ever been heard.
The Englishmen welcomed most heartily the father and son, and Lieutenant Littlestone responded with alacrity to the invitation they gave him to go on board their pinnace.
It was only natural that M. Zermatt should feel some pride when presenting the commander of theUnicornfirst to his brave helpmate and then to his other three sons. It was impossible not to admire their resolute bearing, their intelligent faces, their splendid health. Every member of this family was good to look upon. Then Jenny was introduced to Lieutenant Littlestone.
"But what land is this, where you have been living for these twelve years past, M. Zermatt?" he enquired.
"We have named it New Switzerland," M. Zermatt replied, "a name which it will always keep, I hope."
"Is it an island, commander?" Fritz asked.
"Yes: an island in the Indian Ocean, which was not marked on the charts."
"We did not know that it was an island," Ernest observed, "for we have never left this part of the coast, fearing that we might meet with danger."
"You did right, for we have seen some aborigines," Lieutenant Littlestone replied.
"Aborigines?" echoed Fritz, unable to conceal his surprise.
"Sure," the commander declared. "Yesterday—in a kind of canoe, or rather a kayak."
"Those aborigines were only my brother and myself," Jack answered, laughing. "We blackened our faces and arms in order to be taken for savages."
"Why disguise yourselves?"
"Because we did not know whom we had to deal with, commander, and your ship might have been a pirate ship!"
"Oh!" said Lieutenant Littlestone. "One of the ships of His Majesty King George III.!"
"I quite agree," Fritz replied, "but we thought it better to get back to our dwelling at Rock Castle so as to return all together."
"I must add," M. Zermatt put in, "that we should have done so at break of day. Fritz and Jack had observed that your corvette was undergoing repairs, and so we were sure of finding her in this bay."
Jenny's happiness was great when the commander told her that he knew Colonel Montrose by name. Further, before theUnicornhad sailed for the Indian Ocean the papers had reported the Colonel's arrival at Portsmouth, and later in London. But since, subsequently to this, the news had been published that the passengers and crew of theDorcashad all perished, with the exception of the second mate and the three sailors landed at Sydney, one can imagine the despair that must have racked the unhappy father at the thought of his daughter's death. His grief could only be equalled by his joy when he should learn that Jenny had survived the wreck of theDorcas.
Meanwhile the pinnace was getting ready to return to Deliverance Bay, where M. and Mme. Zermatt proposed to offer hospitality to Lieutenant Littlestone. The latter, however, wished to keep them until the end of the day. And then, as they agreed to spend the night in the bay, three tents were pitched at the foot of the rocks, one for the four sons, another for the father and mother, and the third for Jenny Montrose.
And then the history of the Zermatt family could be related in full detail, from the moment of their setting foot on this land of New Switzerland. It was only natural that the commander and his officers should express their keen desire to go and see the arrangements of the little colony and the comfortable accommodations they had made at Rock Castle and Falconhurst.
After an excellent repast served on board theUnicorn, M. and Mme. Zermatt with their four sons and Jenny took leave of Lieutenant Littlestone and sought the shelter of the tents within the bay.
When he was alone with his wife M. Zermatt spoke to her as follows:
"My dear Betsy, an opportunity is afforded us of returning to Europe, of seeing our fellow-countrymen and our friends once more. But it behooves us to think that our position is altered now. New Switzerland is no longer an unknown island. Other ships will be putting in here before long."
"Of what are you doubtful?" Mme. Zermatt asked.
"I am trying to decide whether or not we should take advantage of this opportunity."
"My dear," Betsy replied, "ever since yesterday I have been thinking earnestly, and this is the result. Why should we leave this land, where we are so happy? Why should we try to renew relations which time and absence must have broken altogether? Have we not come to an age when one longs too ardently for rest to face the risks of a long voyage?"
"Ah! my dear wife," cried M. Zermatt, embracing her, "you have understood me! Yes, it would be almost like ingratitude to Heaven to forsake our New Switzerland! But it is not we alone who are concerned. Our children——"
"Our children," Betsy rejoined. "I quite understand that they should long to return to their own country. They are young; they have the future before them; and although their absence must be a great grief to us, it is only right to leave them free."
"You are right, Betsy; I agree with you."
"Let our boys sail on theUnicorn, my dear. If they go, they will come back."
"And we must think of Jenny, too," said M. Zermatt. "We cannot forget that her father, Colonel Montrose, has been in England two years, has been mourning her for two years. It is only natural that she should want to see her father again."
"It will be a great sorrow for us when we see her go," Betsy replied; "she has become a daughter to us. Fritz has a deep affection for her, and the affection is returned. But Jenny is not ours to dispose of."
M. and Mme. Zermatt talked long of all these things. They quite realised the consequences involved by the alteration in their situation, and it was at a very late hour that night that sleep came to them.
The next day, after having left the bay, rounded Cape East, and gained Deliverance Bay, the pinnace landed Lieutenant Littlestone, two of his officers, the Zermatt family, and the Wolstons at the mouth of Jackal River.
The Englishmen were as full of admiration and surprise as Jenny Montrose had been when visiting Rock Castle for the first time. M. Zermatt received his guests at his winter habitation before taking them to see the chateau of Falconhurst, the villa at Prospect Hill, the farms at Wood Grange and Sugar-cane Grove, and the hermitage at Eberfurt. Lieutenant Littlestone and his officers could not fail to marvel at the prosperity of this Promised Land, all due to the courage and intelligence of a shipwrecked family during their eleven years' stay on this island. At the end of the repast which was served to them in the great hall of Rock Castle they did not forget to drink a toast in honour of the colonists of New Switzerland.
In the course of this day Mr. Wolston, with his wife and his two daughters, had an opportunity of becoming much more intimate with M. and Mme. Zermatt. Before they separated for the night, Mr. Wolston spoke thus:
"M. Zermatt, have I your permission to speak quite frankly and confidentially?"
"Of course."
"The existence you lead upon this island delights me," said Mr. Wolston. "I fancy I am better already in the midst of all these beauties of nature, and I should think myself fortunate to live in a corner of your Promised Land, provided, of course, you would be so kind as to give your consent."
"Rest assured of it, Mr. Wolston!" M. Zermatt replied with enthusiasm. "My wife and I would be enchanted to admit you a member of our little colony and to share its happiness with you. Moreover, so far as we two are concerned, we have made up our minds to end our days in New Switzerland, which has become our second fatherland, and our intention is never to leave it."
"Three cheers for New Switzerland!" cried their guests gaily.
And in honour of New Switzerland they emptied their glasses which had been filled with the Canary wine which Mme. Zermatt substituted for the native wine on great occasions.
"And three cheers for those who want to stay here whatever happens!" added Ernest and Jack.
Fritz had not said a word, and Jenny was silent and hung her head.
Afterwards, when the visitors had gone in the ship's boat sent from theUnicornto fetch them, and Fritz was alone with his mother he embraced her without venturing to speak.
Then seeing her so affected by the idea that her eldest son was thinking of leaving her, he dropped upon his knees beside her and cried:
"No, mother, no; I will not go away!"
And Jenny, who had joined them, threw herself into Mme. Zermatt's arms and said over and over again:
"Forgive me! forgive me, if I am causing you pain; I who love you as if you were my own mother! But, over there ... my father ... have I any right to hesitate?"
Mme. Zermatt and Jenny remained together. And when their conversation was ended it seemed as if Betsy were almost resigned to a separation.
M. Zermatt and Fritz came back at this moment and Jenny returned to M. Zermatt.
"My father," she said—it was the first time that she had so addressed him—"bless me as my mother has just blessed me! Let me—let us—leave for Europe! Your children will come back to you, and you need not fear that anything can ever separate them from you. Colonel Montrose is a man of feeling who will wish to pay his daughter's debt. Let Fritz come to England to meet him. Trust us to each other. Your son will answer for me as I will answer for him!"
Finally, this was what was arranged, with the consent of the commander of theUnicorn. The landing of the Wolstons would set some berths on the corvette free. Fritz, Frank, and Jenny were to embark upon her accompanied by Dolly, the younger of the Wolston girls. Dolly was to go to Cape Town to join her brother whom she would then bring back to New Switzerland with his wife and child. As for Ernest and Jack, they would not hear of leaving their parents.
Lieutenant Littlestone's mission was accomplished, for he had found Jenny Montrose, the sole survivor of the passengers on theDorcas, and in this island of New Switzerland had discovered an excellent anchorage in the Indian Ocean. And since M. Zermatt, who in his capacity of its first occupier was its owner, desired to offer it to Great Britain, Lieutenant Littlestone promised to take the matter to a satisfactory conclusion and to bring back the formal acceptance of the British Government.
The presumption, therefore, was that theUnicornwould return to take possession of the island. She would bring back Fritz, Frank, and Jenny Montrose, and would also embark at Cape Town James Wolston with his sister Dolly, and his wife and child. Fritz would provide himself, with the consent of M. and Mme. Zermatt, with the papers necessary for his marriage—a marriage of which Colonel Montrose would be delighted to approve. Everybody took it for granted that the colonel would want to accompany the young couple to New Switzerland.
So everything was arranged. But still it would not be without much sorrow that the members of the Zermatt family would be separated for a time. Of course when Fritz came back, with Frank and Jenny, and Jenny's father, with perhaps other colonists who might ask leave to accompany them, there would be nothing but happiness—happiness that nothing would disturb thereafter, and a prosperous future for the colony!
Preparations were made at once for the start. A few days more and theUnicornwould be ready to leave the bay upon the coast to which her name had been given. Directly her rigging had been repaired and reset, the corvette would stand out to sea again and turn her course towards the Cape of Good Hope.
Jenny naturally wanted to take away, or, rather, take to Colonel Montrose, the few articles she had made with her own hands upon Burning Rock. Each one of them would be a reminder of the existence she had endured so bravely during more than two years of utter solitude. So Frank took charge of these things, which he would guard like priceless treasure.
M. Zermatt placed in the hands of his two sons everything that had marketable value and could be converted into money in England, the pearls, which would produce a considerable sum, the coral picked up along the islands in Nautilus Bay, the nutmegs and vanilla pods, with which several sacks were filled. With the cash realised by the sale of these various products, Fritz was to buy the material and stores necessary to the colony—stores which would be sent out by the first ship on which the future colonists might take passage with their own outfit. The whole would form a cargo large and valuable enough to require a vessel of several hundred tons.
M. Zermatt, on his part, made various exchanges with Lieutenant Littlestone. He thus procured several casks of brandy and of wine, clothes, linen, stores, and a dozen barrels of powder, shot, lead and bullets. Inasmuch as New Switzerland was able to supply the needs of her inhabitants, it was of the first importance to make sure of an adequate supply of fire-arms. These were indispensable, not only for hunting but also for purposes of self-defence in the event, possible if unlikely, of the colonists being attacked by pirates or even by aborigines.
At the same time the commander of theUnicornundertook to return to the families of the passengers who had perished the valuable securities and the jewelry that had been found on board theLandlord. As for the journal of his life which M. Zermatt had kept from day to day, Fritz was to arrange for its publication in England in order to secure the place to which New Switzerland was entitled in geographical nomenclature.[1]
All these preparations were completed the day before the departure. Every moment that Lieutenant Littlestone could spare from his work he spent in the bosom of the Zermatt family. All hoped that before a year should have passed, after touching at the Cape, and after having received in London the Admiralty's orders with respect to the colony, he would return to take official possession of it in the name of Great Britain. When theUnicornreturned the Zermatt family would be reunited for good and all.
At last the 19th of October arrived.
The day before the corvette had left Unicorn Bay and dropped anchor within a cable's length from Shark's Island.
It was a sad day for M. and Mme. Zermatt, and for Ernest and Jack, from whom Fritz and Frank and Jenny would be parting the next morning, and it was a sad day for Mr. and Mrs. Wolston, too, since their daughter Dolly was leaving also.
At daybreak the launch took the passengers to Shark's Island. M. and Mme. Zermatt, Ernest and Jack, Mr. and Mrs. Wolston, and Hannah accompanied them.
It was on that island at the entrance into Deliverance Bay that the last farewells were exchanged, while the launch took the baggage to the corvette.
There could be no question of writing, since no means of communication existed between England and New Switzerland. No; they only spoke of seeing each other once more, of returning as speedily as might be, and of resuming their life together again.
Then the ship's boat of theUnicorncame for Jenny Montrose, for Dolly Wolston entrusted to her care, and for Fritz and Frank, and took them on board.
Half an hour later theUnicornweighed anchor, and with a fair north-east breeze behind her she stood out to the open sea, after having saluted the flag of New Switzerland with a discharge of three guns.
To this salute the guns from the battery on Shark's Island, fired by Ernest and Jack, replied.
An hour later the top sails of the corvette had disappeared behind the farthest rocks of False Hope Point.
It will now be proper to give the reader a summary of the first ten years spent in New Switzerland by the survivors of the wreck of theLandlord.
On the 7th of October, in the year 1803, a family was cast upon an unknown land situated in the east of the Indian Ocean.
The head of this family, of Swiss origin, was named Jean Zermatt, his wife was named Betsy. The former was thirty-five years of age, the latter thirty-three. They had four children, all sons, in the following order of birth: Fritz, then fifteen; Ernest, twelve; Jack, ten; and Frank, six.
It was on the seventh day of an appalling storm that theLandlord, on which they had embarked, was driven out of her course in the midst of the ocean. Blown southwards, far beyond Batavia, her port of destination, she struck a mass of rock about four miles from the coast.
M. Zermatt was an intelligent and well-informed man, his wife a brave and devoted woman. Their children presented varieties of character. Fritz was bold and active, Ernest the most serious and studious of the four, though inclined to be selfish, Jack thoughtless and full of fun, Frank still almost a baby. They were a most united family, quite capable of doing well even in the terrible conditions into which evil fortune had just plunged them. Moreover, all of them were animated by deep religious feeling.
M. Zermatt had realised his few effects and left the land of his birth to settle in one of those Dutch over-sea possessions which at that time were at the height of their prosperity, and offered so much promise to active and hardworking men. Now, after a fair voyage across the Atlantic and the Indian Oceans, the ship which carried him and his family had been cast away. He and his wife and children, alone of all the crew and passengers of theLandlord, had survived the wreck. But it was necessary to abandon without the least delay the ship, entangled among the rocks of the reef. Her hull rent, her masts broken off, her keel snapped in half, and exposed to all the waves of the open sea, the next gale would complete her destruction and scatter her fragments far and wide.
Fastening half-a-dozen tubs together by means of ropes and planks, M. Zermatt and his sons succeeded in making a sort of raft, on which all the family took their seats before the day drew to an end. The sea was calm, scarcely heaving with a slow swell, and the flowing tide ran towards the coast. After leaving a long promontory on the starboard side, the floating raft came ashore in a little bay where a river emptied itself.
As soon as the various articles brought from the ship had been set ashore a tent was pitched in this spot which afterwards received the name of Tent Home. The encampment was gradually completed with the ship's cargo which M. Zermatt and his sons went on the following days to take from the hold of theLandlord, utensils, furniture, bedding, tinned meats, grain of various kinds, plants, sporting guns, casks of wine and liqueurs, tins of biscuits, cheeses and hams, clothes, linen, everything, in short, which was carried in this four hundred ton vessel freighted to supply the requirements of a new colony.
They found that game, both furred and feathered, swarmed upon this coast. Whole flocks and herds were seen, of agoutis, a kind of hare with head like that of a pig, ondatras, a species of musk rat, buffaloes, ducks, flamingoes, bustards, grouse, peccaries, and antelopes. In the waters of the bay which spread beyond the creek was abundance of salmon, sturgeon, herrings, and a score of other species of fish, as well as mussels, oysters, lobsters, crayfish, and crabs. In the surrounding country, where cassava and sweet potatoes flourished, cotton trees and cocoa trees were growing together with mangroves, palms and other tropical species.
Thus existence seemed to be assured to these shipwrecked folk, upon this land of whose bearings they knew nothing at all.
It had been found possible to land a number of domestic animals—Turk, an English dog; Floss, a Danish bitch; two goats, six sheep, a sow in farrow, an ass, a cow, and a perfect poultry yard of cocks, hens, turkeys, geese, ducks, and pigeons, which soon acclimatised themselves to the surface of the ponds and marshes and the grass lands adjoining the coast.
The final trips to the ship had emptied it of everything valuable or useful that it contained. Several four-pounder cannons were conveyed to the shore for the defence of the encampment, and also a pinnace, a light vessel which, as all its pieces were numbered, could easily be put together, and to which the nameElizabethwas given in compliment to Betsy. M. Zermatt was then master of a ship, brigantine-rigged, fifteen tons burthen, with square stern and after deck. Thus he had every facility for exploring the seas either to the east or the west, and for rounding the neighbouring promontories, one of which broke away towards the north in a sharp point while the other stretched out opposite Tent Home.
The mouth of the river was framed within lofty rocks which rendered it difficult of access, and self-defence there would be easy, at any rate against wild beasts.
One question which arose was as to whether the Zermatts had reached the shore of an island or of a continent washed by the waters of the Indian Ocean. The only information they had on this point was derived from the bearings taken by the commander of theLandlordbefore the shipwreck.
The ship was approaching Batavia when she was struck by a storm which lasted for six days and threw her far out of her course, to the south-east. The day before the captain had fixed his position as being latitude 13° 40′ south, and longitude 114° 5′ east of the island of Ferro in the Canary Group. As the wind had blown constantly from the north, it was a fair assumption that the longitude had not varied appreciably. By keeping the meridian at about the hundred and fourteenth degree, M. Zermatt concluded from an observation of latitude, taken with a sextant, that theLandlordmust have drifted approximately six degrees southward, and consequently, that the coast of Tent Home could be located between the nineteenth and the twentieth parallels.
It followed that this land must be, in round figures, between six and seven hundred miles west of Australia. And so, although he did possess the pinnace, M. Zermatt would never have dared, however ardent his desire to return to his native country, to trust his family to so fragile a vessel and expose them to the dangers of the violent cyclones and tornadoes common in these seas.
In the predicament in which they now found themselves, the shipwrecked family could only look to Providence for help. At this date, sailing vessels making for the Dutch colonies hardly touched this part of the Indian Ocean. The western coast of Australia was almost unknown, offered the greatest difficulties in the way of landing, and had no geographical or commercial importance.
At the outset the family were content to live under canvas at Tent Home, near the right bank of the water-course which they had named Jackal River, in commemoration of an attack made upon them by those carnivorous animals. But the heat, untempered by the sea-breeze, became stifling between these lofty rocks. So M. Zermatt resolved to settle upon the portion of the coast which ran south and north, a little beyond Deliverance Bay, as the place was significantly named.
In the course of an excursion to the end of a magnificent wood not far from the sea, M. Zermatt stopped before a huge mangrove, of the mountain variety, the lower branches of which spread out quite sixty feet above the ground. Upon these branches the father and his sons succeeded in building a platform made of planks taken from the ship. Thus they constructed an aerial dwelling, covered in with a solid roof and divided into several chambers. It was called Falconhurst, "The Falcon's Nest." What was more, like certain willows which only subsist through their bark, this mangrove had lost its inner core, which had been taken possession of by numerous swarms of bees, and it was possible to put in a winding staircase, to replace the rope ladder by which access to the Falcon's Nest had been gained originally.
Meanwhile exploring trips were extended to a distance of seven or eight miles as far as False Hope Point, as the cape was called after M. Zermatt had given up all hope of finding any passengers or members of the crew of theLandlord.
At the entrance to Deliverance Bay, opposite Falconhurst, lay an island about a mile and a quarter in circumference, and this was christened Shark's Island because one of those enormous creatures got stranded there the day the tub boat was taking the domestic animals to Tent Home.
Just as a shark was responsible for the naming of this island, so a whale, a few days later, gave its name to another island about three-quarters of a mile in circumference, situated in front of Flamingo Bay, to the north of Falconhurst. Communication between this aerial dwelling-place and Tent Home, which was about two and a half miles distant, was facilitated by the construction of "Family Bridge," subsequently replaced by a swing bridge, thrown across Jackal River.
After passing the first few weeks under canvas, as the fine weather had not come to an end before Falconhurst was completed, M. Zermatt removed there with all the domestic animals. The enormous roots of the mangrove, covered with tarpaulins, served as cattlesheds. No traces of wild beasts had been found as yet.
However, it was necessary to think of preparing for the return of the winter season, which, if not cold, was at any rate disturbed by those torrential rains of the intertropical regions, which last from nine to ten weeks. To remain at Tent Home, where all the stores from theLandlordwould be kept, would mean risking the precious cargo saved from the wreck. The encampment could not promise absolute safety. The rains must swell the river into a torrent, and if it overflowed its banks all the arrangements and fittings of Tent Home might be swept away.
Thus M. Zermatt was justifiably anxious about finding a safe shelter, when chance came to his rescue in the following circumstances.
On the right bank of Jackal River, a little to the rear of Tent Home, there arose a wall of thick rock, in which with pick and hammer, and perhaps with mine, a grotto could be excavated. Fritz, Ernest, and Jack set about the task, but the work was making poor progress when, one morning, the tool that Jack was wielding went right through the rock.
"I have gone through the mountain!" the lad cried out.
The fact was there was a vast hollow inside the solid mass. Before entering it, in order to purify the air, bunches of burning grass were thrown inside, followed by rockets found in theLandlord'spowder chest. Then by the light of torches, father, mother, and sons gazed with wonder and admiration at the stalactites which hung from its vault, the crystals of rock salt which jewelled it, and the carpet of fine sand with which its floor was covered.
A dwelling-place was speedily fitted up within it. It was furnished with windows taken from the ship's stern gallery and escape pipes to carry off the smoke from the stoves. On the left hand were the work-shop, the stables and the cattlesheds; to the rear, the storerooms, separated by partitions of planking.
On the right hand there were three rooms: the first allotted to the father and mother; the second intended to serve as a dining-room; the third occupied by the four boys, whose hammocks were hung from the roof. A few weeks more, and this new installation left nothing to be desired.
Later on, other establishments were founded in the midst of the grass lands and the woods to the west of the coast line, which ran seven miles between Falconhurst and False Hope Point. The farmstead of Wood Grange was created, near Swan Lake; then, a little further inland, the farmstead of Sugar-cane Grove; then, on a little hill near the cape, the villa of Prospect Hill; and finally, the hermitage of Eberfurt, at the entrance to the defile of Cluse, which bounded the Promised Land on the west.
The Promised Land was the name given to the fertile country protected on the south and west by a lofty barrier of rock which ran from Jackal River to the shore of Nautilus Bay. On the east extended the coast between Rock Castle and False Hope Point. On the north lay the open sea. This territory, seven and a half miles wide by ten miles long, would have been adequate to the needs of quite a little colony. It was there that the family kept the domestic animals and the wild animals which they had tamed—an onager, two buffaloes, an ostrich, a jackal, a monkey, and an eagle. There the plantations of native growths flourished, with all the fruit trees of which theLandlordhad carried a complete assortment, oranges, peaches, apples, apricots, chestnuts, cherries, plums, and even vines, which, under the warm sun of this land, were destined to produce a wine far superior to the palm wine of intertropical regions.
Beyond doubt nature had befriended the shipwrecked family; but their contribution in hard work, energy, and intelligence, was considerable. From these sprang the prosperity of this land, to which, in memory of their own fatherland, they gave the name of New Switzerland.
Within a year nothing remained of the wrecked vessel. An explosion carefully prepared by Fritz scattered its last fragments, which were picked up at various points along the coast. Before this was done everything of value which it contained had been removed: the articles which had been intended for trade with the planters of Port Jackson and the savages of Oceania, the property of the passengers—jewels, watches, snuff-boxes, rings, necklaces, and money amounting to a large sum, which was, however, valueless on this isolated land in the Indian Ocean. But other articles taken from theLandlordwere of incalculable benefit, iron bars, pig lead, cart wheels ready to be fitted, whetstones, pickaxes, saws, mattocks, spades, ploughshares, iron wire, benches, vices, carpenter's, locksmith's, and blacksmith's tools, a hand mill, a saw mill, an entire assortment of cereals, maize, oats, and the like, and quantities of vegetable seeds.
The family spent the first rainy season under favourable conditions. They lived in the grotto, and busied themselves in arranging it to the best advantage. The furniture from the ship—seats, presses, pier tables, sofas, and beds—were distributed among the rooms of this dwelling-place, and now that it no longer consisted of tents the name of Rock Castle was substituted for the former one of Tent Home.
Several years passed. No ship was seen in these remote waters. Yet nothing had been omitted to draw attention to the situation of the survivors of theLandlord. A battery was installed on Shark's Island, containing two small four-pounder cannon. Fritz and Jack fired these guns from time to time, but never obtained any reply from the open sea.
There was no indication that New Switzerland was inhabited anywhere in the neighbourhood of this district. The country was almost certainly a rather large one, and one day while making a journey of exploration southwards as far as the barrier of rock which was pierced by the defile of Cluse, M. Zermatt and his sons reached the far end of a verdant valley, the "Green Valley." Thence a wide horizon spread before their eyes, bounded by a range of mountains at a distance estimated at five and twenty miles.
The possibility that this unknown land was roamed by savage tribes caused them grave anxiety. But none had been seen in the neighbourhood of the Promised Land. The only danger there was from the attacks of a few wild animals, outside the actual district—bears, tigers, lions, and serpents—amongst others one enormous boa-constrictor, which had penetrated as far as the outer premises of Rock Castle, and to which the ass fell a prey.
The following are some of the native products from which M. Zermatt derived much advantage, for he had a very full knowledge of natural history, botany, and geology. A tree resembling the wild fig-tree, from whose cracked bark a gum was distilled, yielded india-rubber, which rendered possible the manufacture of several articles, among them water-proof boots. From certain other trees, they gathered a kind of wax which was used in making candles. The cocoanuts, besides supply food, were converted into almost unbreakable bowls and cups. The cabbage palm yielded a refreshing drink, known as palm wine; the beans of a cacao furnished a rather bitter chocolate, and the sago-tree a pith which, when soaked and kneaded, yielded a most nutritious flour constantly used in cooking. There was never any lack of sweetening, thanks to the swarms of bees, which produced honey in abundance. There was flax from the lanceolate leaves of thephormium tenax, though the carding and spinning of this was not effected without some trouble. Plaster was obtained by making red hot and then reducing to powder fragments of the actual rock wall of Rock Castle. Cotton was found in seed pods full to bursting. From the fine dust of another grotto fuller's earth was taken and used to make soap. There were clove-apples of extraordinary succulence. From the bark of theravensaraan aromatic flavouring was obtained in which the savours of nutmeg and cinnamon were mingled. From a mica shot with long asbestos threads, discovered in an adjacent cave, a kind of glass was manufactured. Beavers and rabbits supplied fur for clothing. There were euphorbium gum, useful for various medicinal purposes, china-clay, mead for a refreshing beverage, and delicious jellies made from seaweed collected on Whale Island in accordance with a method which Mme. Zermatt had learned at Cape Town.
To all this wealth must be added the resources rendered available to bold hunters by the fauna of New Switzerland. Among the wild animals from which they had, though very occasionally, to defend themselves were the tapir, lion, bear, jackal, tiger-cat, tiger, crocodile, panther, and elephant; while the depredations of the apes were so serious as to necessitate a general massacre. Among the quadrupeds, some of which were capable of domestication, were the onager and the buffalo, and among the winged tribe were an eagle, which became Fritz's hunting bird, and an ostrich which Jack trained to be his favourite mount.
As for game, both furred and feathered, there was abundance in the woods round about Wood Grange and the hermitage at Eberfurt. Jackal River supplied excellent crayfish. Among the rocks on the shore molluscs and crustaceans swarmed. And finally, the sea teemed with herrings, sturgeon, salmon, and other fish.
During this long period no journeys of exploration were carried out beyond the country between Nautilus Bay and Deliverance Bay. The coast beyond False Hope Point was explored later, to a distance of about twenty-five miles. Besides the pinnace M. Zermatt now possessed a longboat, built under his direction. And further, at Fritz's request, they made a light canoe of the Greenlander pattern known as a kayak, using the whalebone taken from a whale which had been stranded at the entrance to Flamingo Bay for the ribs of the craft and the skins of dog-fish for her hull. This portable canoe, which careful caulking and tarring rendered quite water-tight, was provided with openings in which two paddlers could sit; the second could be hermetically closed when only the first was occupied.
Ten years passed without any incidents of serious importance. M. Zermatt, now forty-five years of age, enjoyed invariable good health and possessed a moral and physical endurance which had been developed to a higher degree by the uncertainties of an existence so far removed from the ordinary. Betsy, the energetic mother of four sons, was entering upon her forty-third year. Neither her physical strength nor her courage was abated, nor yet her love for her husband and children.
Fritz, now twenty-five, and the possessor of astonishing strength, suppleness, and skill, with a frank countenance, open face and amazingly keen eyes, had improved enormously in character.
Ernest, of graver bent than his twenty-two years warranted, and more skilled in mental than in physical exercises, was a great contrast to Fritz, and had educated himself highly by drawing upon the library taken from theLandlord.
Jack at twenty bubbled over with the joy of life. He was vivacity and perpetual motion incarnate, as adventurous as Fritz and as passionately fond of sport.
Although little Frank had now become a big boy of sixteen, his mother still petted and made much of him as if he were only ten.
Thus the existence of this family was as happy as could be, and many a time Mme. Zermatt used to say to her husband:
"Ah, my dear, would it not be real happiness if we could always live with our children, and if, in this solitude, we were not obliged to pass away one after another, leaving the survivors to sorrow and forlornness! Yes, I would bless the God who has given us this paradise on earth! But, alas, a day will come when we must close our eyes."
That was, and had ever been, the gravest preoccupation of Betsy's mind. Often did she and M. Zermatt confide to one another their only too well-founded apprehensions on this score. But this year, an unexpected event happened which was destined to modify their present and perhaps their future situation.
On the 9th of April, about seven o'clock in the morning, when M. Zermatt came out of the house with Ernest, Jack and Frank, he looked in vain for his eldest son, whom he supposed to be engaged in some work outside.
Fritz was often absent, and there was nothing in his being away now to make his father or his mother uneasy, although Mme. Zermatt was always rather nervous when her son ventured out on the open sea beyond Deliverance Bay.
It was practically certain that the intrepid young fellow was at sea, since the canoe was not in its shelter.
As the afternoon was wearing on M. Zermatt, with Ernest and Jack, took the boat to Shark's Island, there to watch for Fritz's return. It was arranged that M. Zermatt should fire a cannon if he were delayed in getting home, in order that his wife might not be left in a state of uncertainty.
There was, however, no occasion for this. Father and sons had barely set foot on the island when Fritz came round False Hope Point. Directly they saw him, M. Zermatt, Ernest, and Jack took to their boat again. They landed in the bay at Rock Castle at the same moment that Fritz jumped out onto the beach.
Fritz was then obliged to narrate the events of his voyage, which had lasted for nearly twenty-four hours. For some time past he had been contemplating an exploration of the northern coast. So that morning he had taken his eagle, Blitz, and put his canoe in the water. He took some provisions, an axe, a harpoon, a boat-hook, fishing lines, a gun, a pair of pistols, a game-bag, and a flask of mead. The wind blowing off shore, the ebb tide carried him rapidly beyond the cape, and he followed the line of shore, sloping somewhat towards the south-west.
Behind the point, and behind a succeeding mass of enormous rocks piled up by nature in awful disorder as the result of some violent volcanic convulsion, a spacious bay was hollowed out in the coast, bounded on the far side by a perpendicular promontory. This bay furnished an asylum for all kinds of sea-birds, which made the welkin ring with their cries. On the shore huge amphibians snored in the sun, seabears, seals, walruses and others, while countless myriads of graceful nautiluses rode on the surface of the water.
Fritz was not anxious to have any dealings with these formidable sea-monsters in his frail boat. So, pushing out towards the mouth of the bay, he continued his voyage westward.
After rounding a point of singular shape, to which he gave the name of Cape Snub-nose, he entered a natural archway, the foot of whose pillars was washed by the surf. Here there were thousands of swallows, whose nests were plastered to the crannies of the walls and roof. Fritz detached several of these nests, which were of strange construction, and put them in a bag.
"These swallows' nests," said M. Zermatt, interrupting his son's story, "are a very valuable article of commerce in China."
Outside the archway Fritz found another bay, contained between two capes situated about four miles apart. These were linked together, so to speak, by a sprinkling of reefs with an opening only wide enough to permit the passage of a ship of three or four hundred tons at most.
Behind the bay, as far as eye could see, rolled broad savannahs watered by clear streams, woods, marshes, and landscapes of every variety. The bay itself held treasure of inexhaustible value in the shape of pearl oysters, some magnificent samples of which Fritz brought back with him.
After partly rounding the inside of the bay, and crossing the mouth of a river teeming with aquatic plants of every kind, the canoe reached the promontory opposite the archway.
Fritz then decided that he must not carry his expedition any further. The hour was getting late, so he resumed his course to the coast, making for False Hope Point, which he rounded before the gun on Shark's Island had been fired.
This was the story the young man told of the voyage which resulted in the discovery of Pearl Bay. But when he was alone with M. Zermatt, he amazed his father by telling him more in confidence.
Among the countless birds which wheeled and wound above the promontory—sea-swallows, sea-gulls and frigate-birds—there were also several pairs of albatrosses, one of which Fritz knocked down with a blow from his boat-hook.
While he was holding the bird on his knees, Fritz saw a scrap of coarse linen tied round one of its feet, and on this was legibly written in English:
"Whoever you may be to whom God may send this message from an unhappy woman, look for a volcanic island which you will know by the flames escaping from one of its craters. Save the unfortunate woman who is alone on the Burning Rock!"
Somewhere in the waters of New Switzerland, a hapless girl or woman was living, had perhaps been living for several years, upon an island, with none of the resources which theLandlordhad provided for the shipwrecked family!
"What did you do?" M. Zermatt asked.
"The only thing that could be done," Fritz replied. "I tried to restore the albatross, which was only stunned by the blow from the boat-hook, and I succeeded in doing so by pouring a little mead down its beak. On a piece of my handkerchief I wrote with the blood of a sea otter these words in English: 'Put your trust in God. Perhaps His help is near.' Then I tied the piece of handkerchief to the albatross's foot, feeling sure that the bird was a tame one, and would go back to Burning Rock with my message. The minute I set it free the albatross flew off towards the west, so fast that I soon lost sight of it, and it was quite impossible for me to go after it."
M. Zermatt was deeply concerned. What could he do to rescue this unfortunate woman? Where was the Burning Rock? In the near neighbourhood of New Switzerland or hundreds of miles to the west? The albatross is powerful and tireless in flight, and can travel vast distances. Had this one come from some far distant sea which the pinnace could not reach?
Fritz was warmly commended by his father for having confided the secret to him only, since its disclosure might only have upset the other boys and Mme. Zermatt to no good purpose. The shipwrecked girl on Burning Rock might now be dead. The note had no date on it. Several years might have passed since the message was tied to the foot of the albatross.
So the secret was kept. Unhappily it was only too plain that no attempt could be made to discover the English girl on her island.
However, M. Zermatt resolved to explore Pearl Bay and ascertain the value of the oyster beds it contained. Betsy agreed, though rather reluctantly, to remain at Rock Castle with Frank. Ernest and Jack were to accompany their father.
The next day but one, the 11th of April, the longboat left the little cove by Jackal River and was rapidly borne by the current towards the north. Several of the pet animals joined the ship's company: the monkey, Nip the Second, Jack's jackal, the old dog Floss, and lastly Brownie and Fawn, two dogs in the prime of life.
Fritz, in his canoe, went in front of the boat, and having rounded False Hope Point he took the westerly course through the midst of the rocks where the walruses and other amphibian creatures of this shore abounded.
But it was not these creatures that attracted M. Zermatt's attention so much as the countless nautiluses already observed by Fritz. The whole bay was covered with these graceful creatures, their little sails spread out to catch the breeze, like a fleet of moving flowers.
After covering some seven miles from False Hope Point, Fritz pointed out at the far end of Nautilus Bay Cape Snub-nose, a cape which really was exactly like a nose of that shape. Four miles further on the archway curved up, and beyond that was Pearl Bay.
As they went through this archway Ernest and Jack collected a quantity of nests of the esculent swallow, though the birds defended them with fury.
When the boat had passed through the narrow strait between the archway and the ridge of reefs, the spacious bay was revealed in its full extent, twenty to twenty-five miles in circumference.
It was a pure delight to sail over the surface of this splendid sheet of water, from the midst of which three or four wooded islands emerged. The bay was enclosed by verdant pasture lands, dense groves, and picturesque hills. On the west, there ran into it a pretty river, whose bed was hidden among the trees.
The boat touched shore in a little creek, close to the pearl oyster bed. As evening was closing in, M. Zermatt pitched camp by the edge of a stream. A fire was lighted, and some eggs were roasted in its ashes; these, with pemmican, potatoes, and maize biscuits, furnished the repast. Then, as a matter of precaution, all found quarters in the boat, leaving to Brownie and Fawn the duty of defending the camp against the jackals which could be heard howling all along the stream.
Three days, from the 12th to the 14th, were spent in fishing for oysters, all of which held pearls. In the evening Fritz and Jack went out after duck and partridge in a little wood on the right bank of the water-course. They were obliged to be on their guard. Boars were plentiful in this wood, and there were other more formidable animals.
Indeed, in the evening of the 14th, a huge lion and lioness appeared, roaring and waving their tails in fury. After the lion had fallen, shot through the heart by Fritz, the lioness fell too, but not before, with a blow of her paw, she had broken the skull of poor old Floss, to her master's keen regret.
Thus it was established that some wild beasts inhabited this portion of New Switzerland, to the south and west of Pearl Bay, and outside the Promised Land. It was a happy chance that hitherto none of these creatures had forced their way into that district through the defile of Cluse; but M. Zermatt determined to block up this defile, which cut through the rampart of rock, as effectually as he could.
In the meanwhile a general instruction was issued, especially to Fritz and Jack, whose passion for hunting sometimes led them into imprudent excursions, that care should be taken to avoid such encounters as this.
The whole of this day was devoted to emptying the oysters piled up on the shore, and as this mass of molluscs was beginning to throw off exhalations that were anything but healthy, M. Zermatt and his sons determined to leave next morning at daybreak. It was necessary to return to Rock Castle, for Mme. Zermatt would be anxious. So the boat set out, preceded by the canoe. But when they reached the archway, Fritz passed a note to his father, and then sped away in the direction of the west. M. Zermatt could not fail to understand that he was going off to find the Burning Rock.
M. Zermatt felt very anxious when he thought of the risks his son was about to run. But as he could neither stop him nor go with him the boat was obliged to continue its course towards False Hope Point.
When he got back to Rock Castle M. Zermatt decided still to say nothing to his children, or even to his wife. It would only have meant exciting useless fears, and possibly raising idle hopes. He only talked about an exploration to be conducted towards the west side of the shore. But when the absent one had not come back, at the end of three days, M. Zermatt was so uneasy that he resolved to go to look for him.
At daybreak on the 20th of April theElizabethgot under way. She had been properly provisioned for this voyage, and had on board father, mother, and the three sons.
A better wind could not have been wished for. A good breeze blew from the south-west, allowing the pinnace to sail along the coast. In the afternoon she rounded the rocks of the archway and entered Pearl Bay.
M. Zermatt dropped anchor near the oyster bed, at the mouth of the river, where traces of the last camp were still to be seen. They were all preparing to go ashore when Ernest exclaimed:
"A savage! A savage!"
And there indeed, towards the west of the bay, between the wooded islets, was a canoe moving about, seemingly mistrustful of the pinnace.
Never as yet had there been any ground for believing that New Switzerland was inhabited. Now, in view of a possible attack, theElizabethput herself on the defensive, with cannon loaded and guns ready to fire. But as soon as the savage had approached within a few cables' length, Jack cried out:
"It is Fritz!"
Fritz it was, alone in his canoe. Not having recognised from a distance the pinnace, which he had not expected to see in these waters, he was advancing cautiously, having even taken the precaution to blacken his face and hands.
When he had joined his family and embraced his mother and brothers, not without leaving a few smuts upon their cheeks, he led his father to one side.
"I have succeeded," he said.
"What? The English girl on Burning Rock?"
"Yes, she is there, quite close, on an island in Pearl Bay," Fritz replied.
Without a word to his wife or children, M. Zermatt turned the pinnace towards the island pointed out by Fritz near the western shore of the bay. As they approached they could see a little wood of palms close to the beach, and in the wood a hut built in the Hottentot fashion.
They all landed, and Fritz fired a pistol in the air. Then they saw what looked like a young man come down from a tree in whose branches he was hiding.
But it was not a young man. It was a girl of about twenty, dressed like a midshipman. She was Jenny Montrose, the young English girl of the Burning Rock.
Mme. Zermatt, Ernest, Jack, and Frank now learnt the circumstances in which Fritz had discovered the situation of the deserted creature on a volcanic island in the open sea outside Pearl Bay, and how he had replied in a note which the young girl had never received, for the albatross did not return to Burning Rock.
How can one hope to describe the reception Jenny Montrose had, or the tenderness with which Mme. Zermatt folded her in her arms? While they had to wait for her to tell her story, Jenny had already heard from Fritz the story of New Switzerland and of the shipwrecked passengers on theLandlord.
The pinnace immediately left Pearl Bay, with all the family, now augmented by the young English girl. On both sides English and German were spoken sufficiently well for mutual understanding, and it was as though Jenny had at once become a member of the Robinson family.
Of course theElizabethcarried home the few useful articles which Jenny had made with her own hands during her stay on Burning Rock. It was only natural that she should cling to these things, which had so many memories for her.
Also there were two living creatures, two faithful companions from which the young girl could never have parted—a cormorant that she had trained to fish, and a tame jackal.
TheElizabethwas favoured with a fresh breeze which enabled her to carry every stitch of her canvas. The weather was so settled that M. Zermatt could not resist the desire to put in at the various establishments in the Promised Land as each came into view, when the pinnace had rounded False Hope Point.
The villa on Prospect Hill was the first, situated on that green hill, whence a view extended right to Falconhurst. The night was spent there, and it was a long time since Jenny had enjoyed so quiet a sleep.
Fritz and Frank, however, started at earliest dawn in the canoe in order to get everything ready at Rock Castle for the proper reception of the young English girl. Some time afterwards the pinnace put to sea again, and put in first at Whale Island, where a colony of rabbits was swarming. M. Zermatt insisted on Jenny accepting this island for her own—a present which she gratefully accepted.
From this point the passengers on theElizabethmight have taken the land route and visited the farmstead at Wood Grange and the aerial dwelling, Falconhurst. But M. Zermatt and his wife wanted to leave Fritz the pleasure of taking their new companion to these.
Accordingly the pinnace continued to follow the windings of the shore as far as the mouth of Jackal River. When she reached the opening into Deliverance Bay she was received with a salute of three guns from the battery on Shark's Island. At the same moment Fritz and Frank hoisted the red and white flag in honour of the young girl.
When the salute had been returned by the two small guns aboard the pinnace M. Zermatt came alongside just as Fritz and Frank landed from the canoe. Then the entire family went up the beach to gain Rock Castle.
Jenny was overcome with wonder and admiration as she entered the fresh and verdant verandah and saw the arrangement and the furniture of the various rooms; when, too, she saw the dining table carefully laid by Fritz and his brother, with bamboo cups, cocoanut plates, and ostrich egg vessels side by side with utensils of European manufacture taken from theLandlord.
The dinner consisted of fresh fish, roast fowl, peccary ham, and fruit, with mead and canary wine as drinks.
Jenny Montrose was given the place of honour, between M. Zermatt and his wife. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes when, on a banner garlanded with flowers hung above the table, she read these words:
"Welcome to Jenny Montrose! God bless her entrance into the home of the Swiss Family Robinson!"
Then she told her story.
Jenny was the only child of Major William Montrose, an officer in the Indian army. While she was still quite young, a child indeed, she had followed her father from garrison to garrison. Deprived of her mother at the age of seven, she was brought up under her father's watchful care, and equipped to meet all the struggles of life unaided, if her last support should ever fail her. She was thoroughly instructed in everything right for a girl to know, and physical exercises had been an important part of her education—riding and hunting in particular.
In the middle of the year 1812 Major Montrose, now promoted Colonel, was ordered to return to Europe on board a man-of-war bringing home time-expired men from the Anglo-Indian army. He had been appointed to the command of a regiment in a distant expedition, and there was every probability that he would not return until he retired. This made it necessary for his daughter, now seventeen, to journey to her native country and make her home with an aunt in London. There she was to await the return of her father when at last he should rest from the fatigues of a life devoted to the service of arms.
As Jenny could not travel on a troopship, Colonel Montrose put her, with a maid to attend her, in the charge of a friend of his, Captain Greenfield, commander of theDorcas. This ship sailed a few days before the one which was to take the colonel.
The voyage was ill-starred from the very first. On leaving the Bay of Bengal theDorcasencountered storms of fearful violence; later she was chased by a French frigate, and compelled to seek refuge in the harbour of Batavia.
When the enemy had left these waters, theDorcasset sail once more, and steered her course for the Cape of Good Hope. Her passage was a most difficult one at this stormy season. Contrary winds continued to blow with astonishing persistence. TheDorcaswas put out of her course by a storm which swept up from the south-west. For an entire week Captain Greenfield was unable to take his bearings. In fact he could not have told whereabouts in the Indian Ocean he had been carried by the storm, when during the night his ship struck a reef.
An unknown coast rose some little distance off and the crew, jumping into the first boat, made an attempt to reach it. Jenny Montrose, with her maid and a few passengers, got into the second boat. The ship was breaking up already, and had to be abandoned as speedily as possible.
Half an hour later the second boat was capsized by a huge wave just as the first boat was disappearing in the darkness.
When Jenny recovered consciousness she found herself upon a beach where the surf had laid her, probably the sole survivor of the wreck of theDorcas.
The girl did not know what length of time had elapsed since the boat was swamped. It was almost a miracle that she had strength enough left to drag herself into a cave, where, after she had eaten a few eggs, she found a little rest in sleep.
When she awoke she dried in the sun the man's clothes which she had put on at the time the ship struck, in order to be less hampered in her movements, and in one of the pockets of which there was a tinder-box which would enable her to make a fire.
Jenny walked all along the shore of the island but could not see any of her shipmates. There was nothing but fragments of the ship, a few pieces of wood from which she used to keep up her fire.
But, so great was the physical and moral strength of this young girl, so potent was the influence of her almost masculine education, that despair never took hold of her. She set her home within the cave in order. A few nails taken from the wreckage of theDorcaswere her only tools. Clever with her fingers, and of an inventive mind, she contrived the few things that were absolutely necessary. She succeeded in making a bow and fastening a few arrows, with which to hunt the furred and feathered game, and so provide for her daily food. There were a few animals which she was able to tame, a jackal and a cormorant, for instance, and these never left her side.
In the centre of the little island upon which she had been cast by the sea there rose a volcanic mountain from whose crater smoke and flames constantly belched. Jenny climbed to the top of this, a hundred fathoms or so above the level of the sea, but could see no glimpse of land on the horizon.
Burning Rock, which was about five miles in circumference, had on its eastern side only a narrow valley through which a little stream ran. Trees of various kinds sheltered here from too keen winds, covered it with their thick boughs and foliage; and on one of these mangroves Jenny established her dwelling-place, just as the Zermatt family had done at Falconhurst.
Hunting in the valley and neighbourhood, fishing in the stream and among the rocks with hooks fashioned out of nails, edible pods, and berries from different trees—these, supplemented by a few cases of preserved food and casks of wine, cast up on the shore during the three or four days following the wreck, enabled the young English girl to make an addition to the roots and shellfish which were her only food at first.
How many months had Jenny Montrose lived in this fashion on Burning Rock until the hour of her deliverance came?
At the beginning she had not thought of keeping count of time. But she was able to calculate roughly that two years and a half had passed since the wreck of theDorcas.
Throughout all those months, rainy season and hot weather alike, not a day passed when she did not search the horizon. But never once did a sail appear on the background of the sky. From the highest point of the island, however, when the atmosphere was clear, she fancied two or three times that she could detect land to the eastward. But how was she to cover the intervening distance? And what was this land?
Although in this intertropical region the cold was not severe, Jenny's sufferings were great during the rainy season. Ensconced within her cave, which she was unable to leave either to hunt or to fish, she was still obliged to find food for herself. Happily the eggs, of which there were numbers among the rocks, the shellfish densely packed at the mouth of the cave, and the fruit stored in readiness for this season, made her food supply secure.
More than two years had passed when the idea occurred to her, like an inspiration from on high, to fasten to the foot of an albatross which she had caught a note telling of her deserted state upon the Burning Rock. She was quite unable to indicate its position. As soon as she set the bird free it took flight towards the north-east. What likelihood was there of its ever coming back to Burning Rock?
Several days went by without its reappearing. The faint hope the girl had had from this venture gradually faded away. But she would not lose all hope. If the help that she waited for did not come from this source, it would from some other.
Such was the story which Jenny told to the Zermatts.
They still had to learn the circumstances in which Fritz had discovered the Burning Rock.
When the boat left Pearl Bay, Fritz, who was in front of it in his canoe, passed a note to his father acquainting him with his intention to go to find the young English girl. So after passing the archway, instead of following the coast to the east, he went off in the opposite direction.
The shore was sown with reefs and fringed by enormous rocks. Beyond were masses of trees as fine as those at Wood Grange and Eberfurt. Numerous water-courses found their outlet in little bays. This north-west coast was unlike that between Deliverance Bay and Nautilus Bay.
Fritz was compelled by the heat, which was very great the first day, to go ashore in order to find a little shade. He had to be rather cautious, for the hippopotami which lived at the mouth of the streams could easily have reduced the canoe to fragments.
Arriving at the outskirts of a dense wood, Fritz drew his light boat to the foot of a tree. Then, tired out he sank to sleep.
Next morning the voyage was continued until midday. When he put in to shore on this occasion Fritz was obliged to repulse the attack of a tiger which he wounded in the flank while his eagle tried to tear out the eyes of the brute. Two pistol shots stretched it dead at his feet.
But, to Fritz's bitter regret, the eagle, disembowelled by a blow from the tiger's claw, had ceased to breathe. Poor Blitz was buried in the sand, and his master resumed his voyage, grieved by the loss of his faithful hunting companion.
The second day had been spent following the winding coastline. No smoke out at sea indicated the presence of the Burning Rock. Now, as the sea was calm, Fritz determined to go farther out, in order to see if any smoke was visible above the south-western horizon. Accordingly he drove his canoe in that direction. His sail bellied out in the brisk breeze off the land. After sailing for a couple of hours he was preparing to put about when he thought he could perceive a faint smoke.
At once Fritz forgot everything, the uneasiness his prolonged absence would cause at Rock Castle, his own fatigue, and the risks he would run in venturing out so far to sea. Driven by paddle as well as the wind, the canoe flew over the sea.
An hour later Fritz found himself within half-a-dozen cable-lengths of an island topped by a volcano, from which smoke and flame were escaping.
The eastern coast of the island seemed to be quite barren. But as he wound round it Fritz saw that it was intersected by the mouth of a stream at the extremity of a green valley.
The canoe was driven into a narrow creek and pulled up on the strand.
On the right hand was a cave, at the entrance to which a human being was lying, sunk in a deep sleep.
Fritz gazed at her with profound emotion. She was a girl of seventeen or eighteen, dressed in coarse sailcloth, which yet was clean and decently arranged. Her features were charming, and her face was very gentle. Fritz did not dare to waken her, and yet it was salvation which would greet her when she woke.
At last the girl opened her eyes. At the sight of a stranger she uttered a cry of alarm.
Fritz reassured her with a gesture, and then said in English:
"Do not be frightened, miss. I intend you no harm. I have come to save you."
And before she had time to reply he told her how an albatross had fallen into his hands, bearing a note begging help for the Englishwoman on the Burning Rock. He told her that a few miles to the east there was a land where a whole shipwrecked family was living.
Then, after throwing herself on her knees to thank God, the girl stretched out her hands to him in gratitude. She told her story briefly and invited Fritz to visit her wretched abode.
Fritz accepted the invitation, but stipulated that the visit must be a short one. Time pressed, and he was longing to take the young English girl to Rock Castle.
"To-morrow," she said, "we will start to-morrow, Mr. Fritz. Let me pass this one night more upon Burning Rock, since I shall never see it again."
"Very well, to-morrow," the young man answered.
And together they shared a meal provided from Jenny's stores, and the food carried in the canoe.
At length Jenny said her evening prayers and withdrew inside the cave, while Fritz lay down at the entrance to it, like a faithful watchdog.
Next day at earliest dawn they put into the canoe the little articles which Jenny did not want to leave behind, not forgetting her cormorant and her jackal. The young girl, in her man's dress, took the stern seat in the light vessel. The sail was hoisted, the paddles were wielded, and an hour later the last trails of smoke from the Burning Rock were lost on the far horizon.
Fritz had intended to make direct for False Hope Point. But the canoe, being heavily loaded, struck a snag of rock, and it was necessary to repair it. So Fritz was obliged to put into Pearl Bay, and he took his companion to the island, where the pinnace picked them up.
That was the narrative which Fritz related.
The addition of Jenny Montrose to the family circle increased its happiness. The weeks went by, busy with the up-keep of the farmsteads and the care of the animals. A beautiful avenue of fruit trees now connected Jackal River with Falconhurst. Improvements had been carried out at Wood Grange, at Sugar-cane Grove, at the hermitage at Eberfurt, and at Prospect Hill. Many delightful hours were spent in this last-named villa, built of bamboo on the plan of the Swiss chalet. From the top of the hill the eye could range on one side over a large part of the Promised Land, and on the other over a vista of twenty-five miles, bounded by the line where sea and sky met.