Swiss Family Robinson - Johann David Wyss (poetry books to read txt) 📗

all occasions any breach of

the good fellowship and brotherly love which was the mainstay of our

strength and happiness.

 

Good humour was soon restored, Ernest himself helped to unharness the

beasts, and got some handfuls of salt and barley to reward their

exertions, saying, that they must have some more palanquin-practise

another day.

 

I was seated with my wife and Fritz beneath the shade of the verandah,

engaged in wickerwork, and chatting pleasantly, when suddenly Fritz

got up, advanced a step or two, gazing fixedly along the avenue which

led from Jackal River, then he exclaimed:

 

`I see something so strange in the distance, father! What in the world

can it be? First it seems to be drawn in coils on the ground like a

cable, then uprises as it were a little mast, then that sinks, and the

coils move along again. It is coming towards the bridge.’

 

My wife took alarm at this description, and calling the other boys,

retreated into the cave, where I desired them to close up the

entrances, and keep watch with firearms at the upper windows.

 

These were openings we had made in the rock at some elevation, reached

within by steps, and a kind of gallery which passed along the front of

the rooms.

 

Fritz remained by me while I examined the object through my spy-glass.

 

`It is, as I feared, an enormous serpent!’ cried I. `It advances

directly this way, and we shall be placed in the greatest possible

danger, for it will cross the bridge to a certainty.’

 

`May we not attack it, father?’ exclaimed the brave boy.

 

`Only with the greatest caution,’ returned I. `It is far too

formidable, and too tenacious of life, for us rashly to attempt its

destruction. Thank God we are at Rockburg, where we can keep in safe

retreat, while we watch for an opportunity to destroy this frightful

enemy. Go up to your mother now, and assist in preparing the firearms;

I will join you directly, but I must further observe the monster’s

movements.’

 

Fritz left me unwillingly, while I continued to watch the serpent,

which was of gigantic size, and already much too near the bridge to

admit of the possibility of removing that means of access to our

dwelling. I recollected, too, how easily it would pass through the

walls. The reptile advanced with writhing and undulatory movements,

from time to time rearing its head to the height of fifteen or twenty

feet, and slowly turning it about, as though on the look-out for prey.

 

As it crossed the bridge, with a slow, suspicious motion, I withdrew,

and hastily rejoined my little party, which was preparing to garrison

our fortress in warlike array, but with considerable trepidation, which

my presence served in a measure to allay.

 

We placed ourselves at the upper openings, after strongly barricading

everything below, and, ourselves unseen, awaited with beating hearts

the further advance of the foe, which speedily became visible to us.

 

Its movements appeared to become uncertain, as though puzzled by the

trace of human habitation; it turned in different directions, coiling

and uncoiling, and frequently rearing its head, but keeping about the

middle of the space in front of the cave, when suddenly, as though

unable to resist doing so, one after another the boys fired, and even

their mother discharged her gun. The shots took not the slightest

effect beyond startling the monster, whose movements were accelerated.

Fritz and I also fired with steadier aim, but with the same want of

success, for the monster passing on with a gliding motion, entered the

reedy marsh to the left, and entirely disappeared.

 

A wonderful weight seemed lifted from our hearts, while all eagerly

discussed the vast length and awful though magnificent appearance of

the serpent. I had recognized it as the boa constrictor. It was a vast

specimen, upwards of thirty feet in length.

 

I explained to the children that its name in South America is

Boaguacu; the first syllable of that name, with the Latin addition,

which indicates that it kills its prey by pressure, or ‘constriction,’

gives the name by which it is commonly known.

 

The near neighbourhood of this terrific reptile occasioned me the

utmost anxiety; and I desired that no one should leave the house on any

pretence whatever, without my express permission.

 

During three whole days we were kept in suspense and fear, not daring

to stir above a few hundred steps from the door, although during all

that time the enemy showed no sign of his presence.

 

In fact, we might have been induced to think the boa had passed across

the swamp, and found his way by some cleft or chasm through the wall of

cliffs beyond, had not the restless behaviour of our geese and ducks

given proof that he still lurked in the thicket of reeds which they

were accustomed to make their nightly resting place.

 

They swam anxiously about, and with much clapping of wings and

disturbed cackling, showed their uneasiness; finally, taking wing, they

crossed the harbour, and took up their quarters on Shark’s Island.

 

My quandary increased, as time passed on. I could not venture to

attack with insufficient force a monstrous and formidable serpent

concealed in dense thickets amidst dangerous swamps; yet it was

dreadful to live in a state of blockade, cut off from all the

important duties in which we were engaged, and shut up with our

animals in the unnatural light of the cave, enduring constant anxiety

and perturbation.

 

Out of this painful state we were at last delivered by none other than

our good old simple-hearted donkey; not, however, by the exercise of a

praiseworthy quality, but by sheer stupidity.

 

Our situation was rendered the more critical from having no great

stock of provisions, or fodder for the animals; and the hay failing us

on the evening of the third day, I determined to set them at liberty by

sending them, under the guidance of Fritz, across the river at the

ford.

 

He was to ride Lightfoot, and they were to be fastened together until

safely over.

 

Next morning we began to prepare for this by tying them in a line, and

while so engaged my wife opened the door, when old Grizzle, who was

fresh and frolicsome after the long rest and regular feeding, suddenly

broke away from the halter, cut some awkward capers, then bolting out,

careered at full gallop straight for the marsh.

 

In vain we called him by name. Fritz would even have rushed after him,

had not I held him back. In another moment the ass was close to the

thicket, and with a cold shudder of horror, we beheld the snake rear

itself from its lair, the fiery eyes glanced around, the dark deadly

jaws opened widely, the forked tongue darted greedily forth—poor

Grizzle’s fate was sealed.

 

Becoming aware on a sudden of his danger, he stopped short, spread out

all four legs, and set up the most piteous and discordant bray that

ever wrung echo from rocks.

 

Swift and straight as a fencer’s thrust, the destroyer was upon him,

wound round him, entangled, enfolded, compressed him, all the while

cunningly avoiding the convulsive kicks of the agonized animal.

 

A cry of horror arose from the spectators of this miserable tragedy.

`Shoot him, father! Oh, shoot him—do save poor Grizzle!’

 

`My children, it is impossible!’ cried I. `Our old friend is lost to us

for ever! I have hopes, however, that when gorged with his prey, we may

be able to attack the snake with some chance of success.’

 

`But the horrible wretch is never going to swallow him all at once,

father?’ cried Jack. `That will be too shocking!’

 

`Snakes have no grinders, but only fangs, therefore they cannot chew

their food, and must swallow it whole. But although the idea is

startling, it is not really more shocking than the rending, tearing and

shedding of blood which occurs when lions and tigers seize their prey.’

 

`But,’ said Franz, `how can the snake separate the flesh from the

bones without teeth? And is this kind of snake poisonous?’

 

`No, dear child,’ said I, `only fearfully strong and ferocious. And it

has no need to tear the flesh from the bones. It swallows them, skin,

hair and all, and digests everything in its stomach.’

 

`It seems utterly impossible that the broad ribs, the strong legs,

hoofs and all, should go down that throat,’ exclaimed Fritz.

 

`Only see,’ I replied, `how the monster deals with his victim; closer

and more tightly he curls his crushing folds, the bones give way, he is

kneading him into a shapeless mass: He will soon begin to gorge his

prey, and slowly but surely it will disappear down that distended maw!’

 

My wife, with little Franz, found the scene all too horrible, and

hastened into the cave, trembling and distressed. To the rest of us

there seemed a fearful fascination in the dreadful sight, and we could

not move from the spot. I expected that the boa, before swallowing his

prey, would cover it with saliva, to aid in the operation, although it

struck me that its very slender forked tongue was about the worst

possible implement for such a purpose.

 

It was evident to us, however, that this popular idea was erroneous.

The act of lubricating the mass must have taken place during the

process of swallowing; certainly nothing was applied beforehand. This

wonderful performance lasted from seven in the morning until noon. When

the awkward morsel was entirely swallowed, the serpent lay stiff,

distorted, and apparently insensible along the edge of the marsh.

 

I felt that now or never was the moment for attack!

 

Calling on my sons to maintain their courage and presence of mind, I

left our retreat with a feeling of joyous emotion quite new to me, and

approached with rapid steps and levelled gun, the outstretched form of

the serpent. Fritz followed me closely.

 

Jack, somewhat timidly, came several paces behind; while Ernest, after

a little hesitation, remained where he was.

 

The monster’s body was stiff and motionless, which made its rolling and

fiery eyes, and the slow spasmodic undulations of its tail more fearful

by contrast.

 

We fired together, and both balls entered the skull: the light of the

eye was extinguished, and the only movement was in the further

extremity of the body, which rolled, writhed, coiled and lashed from

side to side.

 

Advancing closer, we fired our pistols directly into its head, a

convulsive quiver ran through the mighty frame, and the boa

constrictor lay dead.

 

As we raised a cry of victory, Jack, desirous of a share in the glory

of conquest, ran close to the creature, firing his pistol into its

side, when he was sent sprawling over and over by a movement of its

tail, excited to a last galvanic effort by the shot.

 

Being in no way hurt, he speedily recovered his feet, and declared he

had given it its quietus.

 

`I hope the terrific noise you made just now was the signal of

victory,’ said my wife, drawing near, with the utmost circumspection,

and holding Franz tightly by the hand. `I was half-afraid to come, I

assure you.’

 

`See this dreadful creature dead at our feet; and let us thank God that

we have been able to destroy such an enemy.’

 

`What’s to be done with him now?’ asked Jack.

 

`Let us get him stuffed,’ said Fritz, `and set him up in the museum

amongst our shells and corals.’

 

`Did anybody ever think of eating serpents?’ inquired Franz.

 

`Of course not!’ said his mother. `Why, child, serpents are

poisonous—it would