As soon as Ernest and I had dined, we prepared for our departure. Fritz presented each with one of the best cases of his own workmanship, which we stuck through our belts, and which, in reality, were ingeniously contrived for holding spoons and knives and forks, while room was left in the middle for a little hatchet. I praised Fritz for having thus brought his idea to perfection, and for contriving to make two cases with his skin instead of one. He had used the skin of the two fore-legs of the animal for one, and of the two hind legs for the other, and reserved the place in the middle, for the hatchet. Ernest showed a warmth of gratitude for his share in the benefit, of which I had not thought him capable.
We now set about harnessing the ass and cow to our sledge; each took a piece of bamboo-cane in hand, to serve as a whip; and resting our guns upon our shoulders, we began our journey. Ponto was to accompany us, and Turk to remain behind. We bade adieu to our companions, and put our animals in motion. We took the road by the sea-shore, where the sands afforded better travelling for our vehicle, than the thick wild grass. We reached Family Bridge, on Jackall’s River, and arrived at Tent House, without either obstacle or adventure. We immediately unharnessed the animals to let them graze, while we set to work to load the sledge, with the cask of butter, the cask of cheese, a small barrel of gunpowder, different instruments, some ball, some shot, and Turk’s coat of mail. These exertions had so occupied our thoughts, that it was late when we first observed that our animals, attracted by the excellent quality of the grass on the other side of the river, had repassed the bridge, and wandered so far as to be out of sight. I was in hopes they would be easily found, and I directed Ernest to go with Ponto and bring them back, intending in the mean time to look for a convenient place, on the other side of Tent House, to bathe in. In a short time I found myself at the extremity of Providence Bay, and which ended, as I now perceived, in a marsh, producing the finest bulrushes it was possible to imagine; and further on, a chain of steep rocks, advancing somewhat into the sea, and forming a kind of creek, as if expressly contrived for bathing. The juttings of the rock even seemed like little separate cabinets, where one might be concealed from one’s companions. Enchanted with this discovery, I called out to Ernest to come and join me, and in the mean time, I amused myself with cutting some of the rushes, and imagining what use I could apply them to. Ernest neither replied nor came: so, after waiting a little, I resolved to go in pursuit of him, for I was unable to refrain from some uneasy sensations at his absence. Looking about in all directions, I at length discovered him at a distance, extended at his length on the ground, in the shade produced by Tent House. I approached him with a beating heart, fearing he might have been attacked by some wild beast; and was agreeably surprised at finding him in a sound and quiet sleep, while the ass and the cow were eating the grass close to the place where he lay.
Come, come, young traveller, you must awake, cried I, shaking him: while you are sleeping here, your animals may once more make their escape. He instantly awoke starting, and was soon on his feet. Oh! but I defy them to escape across the bridge, said he, rubbing his eyes; for I have taken away some of the planks, and left a space which they will have no great inclination to jump over.
Father.—Since your idle fit has rendered you inventive, I forgive it with all my heart; but is it not a pity to lose in sleeping the opportunity of doing something useful? Did you not promise your mother to carry her some salt? Slothfulness is always a fault, where labour is a necessity.
Ernest.—But, father, my head was not idle, I assure you. I was planning something all the time.
Father.—Really, Ernest! Why, this is quite a novelty, for a boy of your age. Pray tell me what important and profound study it was, which made you go to sleep.
Ernest.—I will tell you. I was thinking, deeply, how difficult it would be to bring away from the vessel every thing which it contains.
Father.—And did you hit upon some method for removing the difficulty?
Ernest.—No, father, no great things; I fell asleep in the middle of my reflections.
Father.—So, this is the hard work your poor head was engaged in!—Discovering a difficulty, and finding no means for conquering it!
Ernest.—At this very moment an idea strikes me.—We ought to have a large raft; but the beams of the ship are too heavy for the purpose: I think it would be better to take a number of the empty casks, and nail some planks upon them to keep them all together. I have read that the savages of America fill the skins of goats with air, tie them to each other, and are thus enabled to use them as rafts upon the largest rivers.
Father.—This is a sound idea, and one day or other we may perhaps derive advantage from it: but for the present, my boy, we must make up for lost time: run, therefore, and fill this little bag with salt, which you will then empty into the large one that the ass is to carry; and which you will take care to fill equally on each side. During this time, I will take the refreshment of bathing; and then it will be your turn to bathe, and mine to take care of the animals. I returned to the rocks, and was not disappointed in my expectation of an enjoyment the most delicious; but I did not stay long, fearing my boy might be impatient for his share of so new a pleasure. When I had dressed myself, I returned to the place, to see if his work had advanced; but he was not there, and I supposed that he had again fallen asleep in some corner. Presently, however, I heard his voice calling out, Father, father, a fish! a fish of monstrous size! Run quickly, father, I can hardly hold him! he is eating up the string of my line! I ran to the place from which the voice proceeded, and found Ernest lying along the ground on his face, upon the extremity of a point of land, and pulling in his line, to which a large fish was hanging, and beating about with all his strength. I ran hastily and snatched the rod out of his hand, for I had some apprehension that the weight and activity of the fish, would pull him into the water. I gave a certain liberty to the line, to calm the fish, and then contrived to draw him gently along, till I had got him safely into a shallow, from which he could no longer escape, and thus the animal was effectually secured. We next examined him thoroughly, and it appeared to me that it could not weigh less than fifteen pounds; so that our capture was magnificent, and would afford the greatest pleasure to our good steward of provisions at Falcon’s Stream. You have now really laboured, said I to Ernest, not only with your head, but with your whole body; and I would advise you to wipe the perspiration from your face, and keep a little quiet before you venture into the water. You have procured us a dish of great excellence, which will last for several days, and have conducted yourself like a true chevalier, without fear and without reproach.1
It was at least fortunate, observed he in a modest tone, that I thought of bringing my fishing-rod.
Father.—Certainly it was. But tell me how you came to see this large fish, and what made you think you could catch it?
Ernest.—I used to remark when we lived at Tent House, that there were innumerable quantities of fish in the water, just hereabout; the recollection of this circumstance made me determine to bring my fishing-tackle with me. In my way to the place where we keep the salt, I perceived a great number of little crabs, upon which fishes feed, near the water’s brink; I thought I would try to bait my hook with one of them; so I hurried my task of fetching the salt, and came to this spot, where at first I caught only about a dozen little fish, which are there in my handkerchief; but at the same time I remarked, that they were chased in the water by fishes of larger size. This gave me the idea of baiting my hook with one of the small ones; but the hook was too small, and my rod too weak. I then took one of the finest of the bulrushes you had just gathered, and put a larger hook to my line, and in a short time the large fish you see there seized upon the bait, and paid his life for his voracity. However, I must confess, that if you had not come to my assistance, I must either have let go my line, or have been dragged into the water; for the fish was stronger than I.
We now examined the smaller fishes he had caught, which for the most part appeared to me to consist of trout and herrings, while I felt certain that the large one was a salmon. I immediately cut them all open, and rubbed them in the inside with salt, that they might not be injured by the heat. While I was employed in this occupation, Ernest went to the rocks and bathed, and I had time to fill some more bags with salt, before his return. We then set about harnessing and loading our animals; after which we restored the planks which had been taken from the bridge, and then resumed the road to Falcon’s Stream.
When we had proceeded about half way, Ponto, who had been walking quietly on before us, suddenly escaped, and by his barking gave us notice that he scented some game. We soon after saw him pursuing an animal, which seemed endeavouring to escape, and made the most extraordinary jumps imaginable. The dog continuing to follow, the creature in trying to avoid him, passed within gun-shot of the place where I stood. I fired, but its flight was so rapid, that I did not hit. Ernest, who was at a small distance behind, hearing the report of my gun, prepared his own, and fired it off at the instant the singular animal was passing near him, in pursuit of a biding place among the tall herbage just by: he had fired so skilfully, that the animal fell dead at the same instant. I ran hastily, and with extreme curiosity, to ascertain what kind of quadruped it might be. We found it, in form and general appearance, the most remarkable possible to conceive. It was of the size of a sheep, with a tail resembling that of a tiger; both its snout and hair were like those of a mouse, and its teeth were like a hare’s, but much larger; the fore legs resembled those of the squirrel, and were extremely short; but to make up for this, its hind legs were as long as a pair of stilts, and of a form strikingly singular. We examined the creature for a long time in silence; I could not be sure that I had ever seen an engraving of it in any Natural History, or a description of it in any book of Travels. Ernest, after a long and close examination, interrupted our silence by an exclamation of joy: And have I really killed this extraordinary animal? said he, clapping his hands together. What will my mother and my brothers say? How astonished they will be! and how fortunate I am in securing so fine a prize! What do you think is its name, father? I would give all the world to know.
Father.—And so would I, my boy; but I am as ignorant as you. One thing, however, is certain, that this is your lucky day; for you have already performed two wonderful feats, by destroying two monsters, in the course of it; so that I shall be tempted to give you the name of my little Hercules.2 You also sometimes deserve that of my little Solomon. So let us both examine this interesting stranger with attention, that we may be certain to what family of quadrupeds it belongs: this will perhaps throw a light upon its name.
Ernest.—I think it can hardly be named a quadruped; for the little fore legs look much more like hands, as is the case with monkeys.
Father.—They are notwithstanding legs, I can assure you. Let us look for its name among the animals who give suck; on this point we cannot be mistaken. Now let us examine its teeth.
Ernest.—Here are the four incisory teeth, like the squirrel——.
Father.—Thus we see that it belongs to the order of Nibblers. Now let us look for some names of animals of this kind.
Ernest.—Besides the squirrels, I recollect only the mice, the marmots, the hares, the beavers, the porcupines, and the jumpers.
Father.—The jumpers! That word furnishes the necessary clue; the animal is completely formed like the gerboa or jumping hare, except that it is twice the size of those of which I have read a description……Wait a moment, an idea strikes me. I will lay a wager that our animal is one of the large jumpers, called kangaroo;3 it belongs properly to the genus Didelphis or Philander; because the female, who never bears more than one young one, carries it in a kind of purse placed between her hind legs. To the best of my knowledge, this animal has never been seen but on the coast of New Holland,4 where it was first observed by the celebrated navigator Captain Cook.5 You may then be highly flattered with your adventure, in killing an animal at once so rare and so remarkable.
Ernest.—You had very nearly, however, deprived me of the honour. How happened it, father, that you missed him? you, who are so much better a shot than I! I confess I should have been much mortified in your place.
Father.—I, on the contrary, rejoice in the circumstance.
Ernest.—Well, that is droll enough; and I cannot understand how any one can rejoice at having missed an animal in firing. Will you explain it to me?
Father.—I rejoice, because I love my son better than myself, and take a more lively interest in his pleasure, and in any little cause of exultation he may have, than if the occasion were more immediately connected with myself.—Ernest, affected by my remark, ran to embrace me. How truly I recognise in this assurance the kind temper of my ever indulgent father! cried he.—Your gratitude but increases my satisfaction, added I, embracing him in my turn; but now let us see if we shall be able to drag the animal to the sledge. Ernest requested that I would rather assist him to carry it, as he was afraid of spoiling its beautiful mouse-coloured skin, by dragging it on the ground. I therefore tied the fore legs of the kangaroo together; and by means of two canes, we with considerable trouble contrived to carry it to the sledge, upon which it was securely fastened.
Ponto, who first discovered the kangaroo, had lost the scent, and was scampering about in the tall grass, no doubt with the hope of recovering his prey. We called him to us, and loaded him with caresses and applauses: but he seemed indifferent to our most flattering addresses; he kept close to the kangaroo, and licked its wound, which was still bleeding. Having now nothing more to detain us, we continued our road towards Falcon’s Stream. As we walked along, we conversed on the subject of natural history, and on the necessity of studying it in our youth, that we might learn to class plants and animals according to their characteristic marks; and we observed, that to such a knowledge as this it was owing, that we had recognised the kangaroo. Ernest entreated me to tell him all I knew about the animal. It is, said I, a most singular kind of creature; and having hitherto been little observed, it furnishes but few particulars for narration. Its fore legs, as you see, have scarcely the third part of the length of the hind ones, and the most it can do, is to make them serve the purpose of walking; but the hind legs enable it to make prodigious jumps, the same as in the flea and the grasshopper. The food of the kangaroo consists of herbs and roots, which they dig up very skilfully with their fore legs. They place themselves upon their hind legs, which are doubled under them, as if on a chair, and by this means are able to look above even the tall kinds of grass; they rest too upon their tail, which is exceedingly strong, and is also of great use to them in jumping, by assisting the spring from the ground. It is said that the kangaroo, if deprived of its tail, would scarcely be able to jump at all.
We at length arrived happily, though somewhat late, at Falcon’s Stream, having heard from a great distance the kind welcome of the salutations of our family. Our companions all ran to meet us: but it was now, on seeing the ludicrous style of the dress of the three boys, our turn for immoderate fits of laughter: one had on a sailor’s shirt, which trained round him like the robe of a spectre; another was buried in a pair of pantaloons, which were fastened round his neck and reached to the ground; and the third had a long waistcoat which came down to the instep, and gave him the exact form of a travelling portmanteau. They all tried to jump about; but finding this impossible from the length of their garments, they next resolved to carry off the whole with an air, by strutting slowly to and fro in the manner of a great personage in a theatre. After some hearty laughing, I inquired of my wife what could be the cause of this masquerade, and whether she had assisted them in attempting to act a comedy for our amusement. She disclosed the mystery by informing me, that her three boys had also been into the water, to bathe, and that while they were thus engaged, she had washed all their clothes; but as they had not dried so soon as she expected, her little rioters had become impatient, and had fallen on the chest of sailor’s clothes, and each had taken from it what article he pleased. I preferred, said she, that you should see them in this odd sort of a disguise rather than quite naked, like little savages; in which opinion, I assured her that I heartily joined.
It was now our turn to give an account of our journey: in proportion as we advanced in our narrative, we presented, one after another, casks, bulrushes, salt, fish, and lastly, with infinite triumph, our beautiful kangaroo. In a trice it was surrounded, examined, and admired by all, and such a variety of questions asked, that Ernest and I scarcely knew which to answer first. Fritz was the only one who was a little silent. I saw plainly by his countenance, what was passing in his mind. He was jealous of the good fortune of his brother Ernest; but I also saw, that he was struggling manfully against the ascendancy of so mean a passion, and was resolving to conquer it. In a short time, he had succeeded so completely, that he joined frankly and unaffectedly in our conversation and merriment, and I am persuaded, no one but myself perceived what was passing in his mind. He came near the kangaroo, and examined it with great attention; then turning to his brother, he observed to him in a kind tone, that he had had good luck, and that he must be a good shot to have killed the kangaroo with so little difficulty. But, father, said he, when you go again to Tent House, or on any other excursion, will it not be my turn to go with you? For here at Falcon’s Stream there is nothing new to amuse us; a few thrushes, and some pigeons; this is all we have from day to day, and I find it very tiresome.
I will promise you with all my heart what you desire, my dear boy, said I, for you have valiantly combated the ill humour and the jealousy which assailed your temper, on witnessing your brother’s success with the kangaroo. I therefore promise, that you shall accompany me in my very next excursion, which will probably take place at no greater distance of time than tomorrow; and it will be another journey to the vessel. But in the mean time, let me observe to you, my dear Fritz, that you ought to be more flattered with the high opinion I must entertain of your prudence and judgement, in leaving you here, in charge of your mother and your brothers, than with the applause due to the event of killing a kangaroo. You have accomplished an important duty, in keeping near them all the time, and not suffering yourself to be allured by such amusements as presented themselves to your fancy; and this conduct has increased my affection and respect for you. Some praise is also due to Ernest, for the moderation with which he has felt his triumph, in so extraordinary an occurrence; for he has not even told you of my humiliating failure in attempting to shoot the kangaroo. To triumph over our passions, and to have on all occasions a perfect government of our temper, is an acquisition of infinitely more value, than the showing a certain skill in firing off a gun, and killing an innocent animal. We happen, in our situation, to be forced upon the cultivation of such arts as these; but though we may practise them as necessary for our existence, we have no reason to be proud of them.
We concluded the day with our ordinary occupations; I gave some salt to each of our animals, to whom it was an acceptable treat. We next skinned our kangaroo, and put it carefully aside till the next day, when we intended to cut it to pieces, and lay such parts in salt, as we could not immediately consume. We made an excellent supper on our little fish, to which we added some potatoes, nor were our faithful companions Turk and Ponto neglected. The labours of the day had more than usually disposed us all to seek repose; we therefore said our prayers at an early hour, mounted our ladder, and were soon asleep.