Swiss Family Robinson, Johann David Wyss [tools of titans ebook txt] 📗

Chapter 1

For many days we had been tempest-tossed. Six times had the darkness

closed over a wild and terrific scene, and returning light as often

brought but renewed distress, for the raging storm increased in

fury until on the seventh day all hope was lost.

 

We were driven completely out of our course; no conjecture

could be formed as to our whereabouts. The crew had lost heart,

and were utterly exhausted by incessant labour. The riven masts

had gone by the board, leaks had been sprung in every direction,

and the water, which rushed in, gained upon us rapidly.

 

Instead of reckless oaths, the seamen now uttered frantic cries to

God for mercy, mingled with strange and often ludicrous vows, to

be performed should deliverance be granted. Every man on board

alternately commended his soul to his Creator, and strove to

bethink himself of some means of saving his life.

 

My heart sank as I looked round upon my family in the midst of

these horrors. Our four young sons were overpowered by terror.

`Dear children,’ said I, `if the Lord will, He can save us even

from this fearful peril; if not, let us calmly yield our lives

into His hand, and think of the joy and blessedness of finding

ourselves for ever and ever united in that happy home above.

Even death is not too bitter, when it does not separate those

who love one another.’

 

At these words my weeping wife looked bravely up, and, as the

boys clustered round her, she began to cheer and encourage them

with calm and loving words. I rejoiced to see her fortitude,

though my heart was ready to break as I gazed on my dear ones.

 

We knelt down together, one after another praying with deep

earnestness and emotion. Fritz, in particular, besought help

and deliverance for his dear parents and brothers, as though

quite forgetting himself. Our hearts were soothed by the never-failing comfort of child-like confiding prayer, and the horrors

of our situation seemed less overwhelming. `Ah,’ thought I,

`the Lord will hear our prayer! He will help us.’

 

Amid the roar of the thundering waves I suddenly heard the cry

of `Land! land!’, while at the same instant the ship struck with

a frightful shock, which threw everyone to the deck, and seemed

to threaten her immediate destruction. Dreadful sounds betokened

the breaking up of the ship, and the roaring waters poured in on

all sides.

 

Then the voice of the captain was heard above the tumult, shouting,

`Lower away the boats! We are lost!’

 

`Lost!’ I exclaimed, and the word went like a dagger to my heart;

but seeing my children’s terror renewed, I composed myself,

calling out cheerfully, `Take courage, my boys! We are all above

water yet. There is the land not far off, let us do our best to

reach it. You know God helps those that help themselves! Remain

with your mother, while I go on deck to see what is best to be

done now.’ With that, I left them and went on deck.

 

A wave instantly threw me down; another followed, and then another,

as I contrived to find my footing. The ship was shattered on all

directions, and on one side there was a large hole in the hull.

 

Forgetting the passengers, the ship’s company crowded into the

lifeboats, and the last who entered cut the davit ropes to cast

each boat into the sea.

 

What was my horror when through the foam and spray I beheld the

last remaining boat leave the ship, the last of the seamen spring

into her and push off, regardless of my cries and entreaties that

we might be allowed to share their slender chance of preserving

their lives. My voice was drowned in the howling of the blast,

and even had the crew wished it, the return of the boat was

impossible, for the waves were mountain-high.

 

Casting my eyes despairingly around, I became gradually aware

that our position was by no means hopeless, inasmuch as the

stern of the ship containing our cabin was jammed between two

high rocks, and was partly raised from among the breakers which

dashed the forepart to pieces. As the clouds of mist and rain

drove past, I could make out, through rents in the vaporous

curtain, a line of rocky coast, and, rugged as it was, my heart

bounded towards it as a sign of help in the hour of need.

 

Yet the sense of our lonely and forsaken condition weighed heavily

upon me as I returned to my family, constraining myself to say

with a smile, `Courage, dear ones! Although our good ship will

never sail more, she is so placed that our cabin will remain

above water, and tomorrow, if the wind and waves abate, I see no

reason why we should not be able to get ashore.’

 

These few words had an immediate effect on the spirits of my

children, for my family had the habit of trusting in my assurances.

The boys at once regarded our problematical chance of escaping as

a happy certainty, and began to enjoy the relief from the violent

pitching and rolling of the vessel.

 

My wife, however, perceived my distress and anxiety in spite of

my forced composure, and I made her comprehend our real situation,

greatly fearing the effect of the intelligence on her nerves. Not

for a moment did her courage and trust in Providence forsake her,

and on seeing this, my fortitude revived.

 

`We must find some food, and take a good supper,’ said she, `it

will never do to grow faint by fasting too long. We shall require

our utmost strength tomorrow.’

 

Night drew on apace, the storm was as fierce as ever, and at

intervals we were startled by crashes announcing further damage

to our unfortunate ship. We thought of the lifeboats, and feared

that all they contained must have sunk under the foaming waves.

 

`God will help us soon now, won’t He, father?’ said my youngest

child.

 

`You silly little thing,’ said Fritz, my eldest son, sharply,

`don’t you know that we must not settle what God is to do for

us? We must have patience and wait His time.’

 

`Very well said, had it been said kindly, Fritz, my boy. You too

often speak harshly to your brothers, although you may not mean

to do so.’

 

A good meal being now ready, my youngsters ate heartily, and

retiring to rest were speedily fast asleep. Fritz, who was of

an age to be aware of the real danger we were in, kept watch

with us. After a long silence, `Father,’ said he, `don’t you

think we might contrive swimming-belts for mother and the boys?

With those we might all escape to land, for you and I can swim.’

 

`Your idea is so good,’ answered I, `that I shall arrange something

at once, in case of an accident during the night.’

 

We immediately searched about for what would answer the purpose,

and fortunately got hold of a number of empty flasks and tin

canisters, which we connected two and two together so as to form

floats sufficiently buoyant to support a person in the water, and

my wife and young sons each willingly put one on. I then provided

myself with matches, dry tinder, knives, cord, and other portable

articles, trusting that, should the vessel go to pieces before

daylight, we might gain the shore, not wholly destitute.

 

Fritz, as well as his brothers, now slept soundly. Throughout the

night my wife and I maintained our prayerful watch, dreading at

every fresh sound some fatal change in the position of the wreck.

 

At length the faint dawn of day appeared, the long weary night was

over, and with thankful hearts we perceived that the gale had begun

to moderate; blue sky was seen above us, and the lovely hues of

sunrise adorned the eastern horizon.

 

I aroused the boys, and we assembled on the remaining portion of

the deck, when they, to their surprise, discovered that no one

else was on board.

 

`Hallo, papa! What has become of everybody? Are the sailors gone?

Have they taken away the boats? Oh, papa! why did they leave us

behind? What can we do by ourselves!’

 

`My good children,’ I replied, `we must not despair, although we

seem deserted. See how those on whose skill and good faith we

depended have left us cruelly to our fate in the hour of danger.

God will never do so. He has not forsaken us, and we will trust

Him still. Only let us bestir ourselves, and each cheerily do his

best. Who has anything to propose?’

 

`The sea will soon be calm enough for swimming,’ said Fritz.

 

`And that would be all very fine for you,’ exclaimed Ernest, `for

you can swim, but think of mother and the rest of us! Why not

build a raft and all get on shore together?’

 

`We should find it difficult, I think, to make a raft that would

carry us safe to shore. However, we must contrive something, and

first let each try to procure what will be of most use to us.’

 

Away we all went to see what was to be found, I myself proceeding

to examine, as of greatest consequence, the supplies of provisions

and fresh water within our reach.

 

My wife took her youngest son, Franz, to help her to attend to the

unfortunate animals on board, who were in a pitiful plight,

having been neglected for several days.

 

Fritz hastened to the arms chest, Ernest to look for tools;

and Jack went towards the captain’s cabin, the door of which

he no sooner opened, than out sprang two splendid large dogs,

who testified their extreme delight and gratitude by such

tremendous bounds that they knocked