‘Certainly,’ replied she, ‘I think that a ball of thread was the first thing to enter the bag,’ and diving her hand deep in, she drew out the very thing I wanted.
‘Now, boys,’ I said, ‘I am going to fire the first shot,’ and I fastened one end of the thread to one of my arrows and aimed at a large branch above me. The arrow flew upwards and bore the thread over the branch and fell at our feet. Thus was the first step in our undertaking accomplished. Now for the rope ladder!
Fritz had obtained two coils of cord each about forty feet in length; these we stretched on the ground side by side; then Fritz cut the bamboos into pieces of two feet for the steps of the ladder, and as he handed them to me, I passed them through knots which I had prepared in the ropes, while Jack fixed each end with a nail driven through the wood. When the ladder was finished, I carried over the bough a rope by which it might be hauled up. This done, I fixed the lower end of the ladder firmly to the ground by means of stakes, and all was ready for an ascent. The boys who had been watching me with intense interest were each eager to be first.
‘Jack shall have the honour,’ said I, ‘as he is the lightest, so up with you, my boy, and do not break your neck.’
Jack, who was as active as a monkey, sprang up the ladder and quickly gained the top.
‘Three cheers for the nest!’ he exclaimed, waving his cap. ‘Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for our jolly nest! What a grand house we will have up here; come along, Fritz!’
His brother was soon by his side, and with a hammer and nails secured the ladder yet more securely. I followed with an axe, and took a survey of the tree. It was admirably suited to our purpose; the branches were very strong and so closely interwoven that no beams would be required to form a flooring, but when some of the boughs were lopped and cleared away, a few planks would be quite sufficient.
I now called for a pulley, which my wife fastened to the cord hanging beside the ladder, I hauled it up, and finding the boys rather in my way, told them to go down while I proceeded to fasten the pulley to a stout branch above me, that we might be able to haul up the beams we should require the next day. I then made other preparations that there might be no delay on the morrow, and a bright moon having arisen, I by its light continued working until I was quite worn out, and then at length descended. I reached the ground, but to my surprise found that the two boys were not there. They had not been seen. A moment afterwards, however, all anxiety was dispelled, for amongst the topmost boughs I heard their young voices raised in the evening hymn. Instead of descending, they had, while I was busy, climbed upwards, and had been sitting in silent admiration of the moonlight scene, high above me. They now joined us, and my wife showed me the results of her labour. She had made two complete sets of harness. I congratulated her upon her success, and we then sat down to supper. On a cloth spread out upon the grass were arranged a roast shoulder of porcupine, a delicious bowl of soup made from a piece of the same animal, cheese, butter, and biscuits, forming a most tempting repast. Having done this ample justice, we collected our cattle, and the pigeons and fowls having retired to roost on the neighbouring trees, and on the steps of our ladder, we made up a glorious fire to keep off any prowling wild beasts, and ourselves lay down. The children, in spite of the novelty of the hammocks, were quickly asleep. In vain I tried to follow their example; a thousand anxious thoughts presented themselves, and as quickly as I dispelled them others rose in their place. The night wore on, and I was still awake; the fire burned low, and I rose and replenished it with dry fuel. Then again I climbed into my hammock, and towards morning fell asleep.
Early next morning we were astir, and dispersed to our various occupations. My wife milked the goats and cow, while we gave the animals their food, after which we went down to the beach, to collect more wood for our building operations. To the larger beams we harnessed the cow and ass, while we ourselves dragged up the remainder. Fritz and I then ascended the tree, and finished the preparations I had begun the night before; all useless boughs we lopped off, leaving a few about six feet from the floor, from which we might sling our hammocks, and others still higher, to support a temporary roof of sailcloth. My wife made fast the planks to a rope passed through the block I had fixed to the bough above us, and by this means Fritz and I hauled them up. These we arranged side by side on the foundation of boughs, so as to form a smooth solid floor, and round this platform built a bulwark of planks, and then throwing the sailcloth over the higher branches, we drew it down and firmly nailed it. Our house was thus enclosed on three sides, for behind the great trunk protected us, while the front was left open to admit the fresh sea breeze which blew directly in. We then hauled up our hammocks and bedding and slung them from the branches we had left for that purpose. A few hours of daylight still remaining, we cleared the floor from leaves and chips, and then descended to fashion a table and a few benches from the remainder of the wood. After working like slaves all day, Fritz and I flung ourselves on the grass, while my wife arranged supper on the table we had made.
‘Come,’ said she at length, ‘come and taste flamingo stew, and tell me how you like it. Ernest assured me that it would be much better stewed than roasted, and I have been following his directions.’
Laughing at the idea of Ernest turning scientific cook we sat down. The fowls gathered round us to pick up the crumbs, and the tame flamingo joined them, while master Knips skipped about from one to the other, chattering and mimicking our gestures continually. To my wife’s joy, the sow appeared shortly after, and was presented with all the milk that remained from the day’s stock that she might be persuaded to return every night.
‘For,’ said my wife, ‘this surplus milk is really of no use to us, as it will be sour before the morning in this hot climate.’
‘You are quite right,’ I replied, ‘but we must contrive to make it of use. The next time Fritz and I return to the wreck we will bring off a churn amongst the other things we require.’
‘Must you really go again to that dreadful wreck?’ said my wife shuddering. ‘You have no idea how anxious I am when you are away there.’
‘Go we must, I am afraid,’ I replied, ‘but not for a day or two yet. Come, it is getting late. We and the chickens must go to roost.’
We lit our watch fires, and, leaving the dogs on guard below, ascended the ladder. Fritz, Ernest and Jack were up in a moment. Their mother followed very cautiously, for though she had originated the idea of building a nest, she yet hesitated to entrust herself at such a terrific height from the ground. When she was safely landed in the house, taking little Franz on my back, I let go the fastenings which secured the lower end of the ladder to the ground, and swinging to and fro, slowly ascended.
Then for the first time we stood all together in our new home. I drew up the ladder, and, with a greater sense of security than I had enjoyed since we landed on the island, offered up our evening prayer, and retired for the night.
*German, ‘Knipps’, a manikin.
Next morning all were early awake, and the children sprang about the tree like young monkeys.
‘What shall we begin to do, father?’ they cried. ‘What do you want us to do, today?’
‘Rest, my boys,’ I replied, ‘rest.’
‘Rest?’ repeated they. ‘Why should we rest?’
‘“Six days shalt thou labour and do all that thou hast to do, but on the seventh, thou shalt do no manner of work.” This is the seventh day,’ I replied, ‘on it, therefore, let us rest.’
‘What, is it really Sunday?’ said Jack. ‘How jolly! Oh, I won’t do any work; but I’ll take a bow and arrow and shoot, and we’ll climb about the tree and have fun all day.’
‘That is not resting,’ said I, ‘that is not the way you are accustomed to spend the Lord’s day.’
‘No! But then we can’t go to church here, and there is nothing else