more solid nourishment, Virginia perceived inthe thickest part of the forest, a young palm-tree. The kind of cabbagewhich is found at the top of the palm, enfolded within its leaves,is well adapted for food; but, although the stock of the tree is notthicker than a man's leg, it grows to above sixty feet in height. Thewood of the tree, indeed, is composed only of very fine filaments; butthe bark is so hard that it turns the edge of the hatchet, and Paul wasnot furnished even with a knife. At length he thought of setting fire tothe palm-tree; but a new difficulty occurred: he had no steel with whichto strike fire; and although the whole island is covered with rocks,I do not believe it is possible to find a single flint. Necessity,however, is fertile in expedients, and the most useful inventions havearisen from men placed in the most destitute situations. Paul determinedto kindle a fire after the manner of the negroes. With the sharp end ofa stone he made a small hole in the branch of a tree that was quite dry,and which he held between his feet: he then, with the edge of the samestone, brought to a point another dry branch of a different sort ofwood, and, afterwards, placing the piece of pointed wood in the smallhole of the branch which he held with his feet and turning it rapidlybetween his hands, in a few minutes smoke and sparks of fire issuedfrom the point of contact. Paul then heaped together dried grass andbranches, and set fire to the foot of the palm-tree, which soon fell tothe ground with a tremendous crash. The fire was further useful to himin stripping off the long, thick, and pointed leaves, within which thecabbage was inclosed. Having thus succeeded in obtaining this fruit,they ate part of it raw, and part dressed upon the ashes, which theyfound equally palatable. They made this frugal repast with delight,from the remembrances of the benevolent action they had performed in themorning: yet their joy was embittered by the thoughts of the uneasinesswhich their long absence from home would occasion their mothers.Virginia often recurred to this subject; but Paul, who felt his strengthrenewed by their meal, assured her, that it would not be long beforethey reached home, and, by the assurance of their safety, tranquillizedthe minds of their parents.
After dinner they were much embarrassed by the recollection that theyhad now no guide, and that they were ignorant of the way. Paul, whosespirit was not subdued by difficulties, said to Virginia,--"The sunshines full upon our huts at noon: we must pass, as we did this morning,over that mountain with its three points, which you see yonder. Come,let us be moving." This mountain was that of the Three Breasts, socalled from the form of its three peaks. They then descended the steepbank of the Black River, on the northern side; and arrived, after anhour's walk, on the banks of a large river, which stopped their furtherprogress. This large portion of the island, covered as it is withforests, is even now so little known that many of its rivers andmountains have not yet received a name. The stream, on the banks ofwhich Paul and Virginia were now standing, rolls foaming over a bed ofrocks. The noise of the water frightened Virginia, and she was afraidto wade through the current: Paul therefore took her up in his arms, andwent thus loaded over the slippery rocks, which formed the bed ofthe river, careless of the tumultuous noise of its waters. "Do not beafraid," cried he to Virginia; "I feel very strong with you. If thatplanter at the Black River had refused you the pardon of his slave,I would have fought with him."--"What!" answered Virginia, "with thatgreat wicked man? To what have I exposed you! Gracious heaven! howdifficult it is to do good! and yet it is so easy to do wrong."
When Paul had crossed the river, he wished to continue the journeycarrying his sister: and he flattered himself that he could ascendin that way the mountain of the Three Breasts, which was still at thedistance of half a league; but his strength soon failed, and he wasobliged to set down his burthen, and to rest himself by her side.Virginia then said to him, "My dear brother, the sun is going down; youhave still some strength left, but mine has quite failed: do leave mehere, and return home alone to ease the fears of our mothers."--"Oh no,"said Paul, "I will not leave you if night overtakes us in this wood, Iwill light a fire, and bring down another palm-tree: you shall eat thecabbage, and I will form a covering of the leaves to shelter you." Inthe meantime, Virginia being a little rested, she gathered from thetrunk of an old tree, which overhung the bank of the river, some longleaves of the plant called hart's tongue, which grew near its root. Ofthese leaves she made a sort of buskin, with which she covered her feet,that were bleeding from the sharpness of the stony paths; for in hereager desire to do good, she had forgotten to put on her shoes. Feelingher feet cooled by the freshness of the leaves, she broke off a branchof bamboo, and continued her walk, leaning with one hand on the staff,and with the other on Paul.
They walked on in this manner slowly through the woods; but from theheight of the trees, and the thickness of their foliage, they soon lostsight of the mountain of the Three Breasts, by which they had hithertodirected their course, and also of the sun, which was now setting. Atlength they wandered, without perceiving it, from the beaten path inwhich they had hitherto walked, and found themselves in a labyrinth oftrees, underwood, and rocks, whence there appeared to be no outlet.Paul made Virginia sit down, while he ran backwards and forwards, halffrantic, in search of a path which might lead them out of this thickwood; but he fatigued himself to no purpose. He then climbed to the topof a lofty tree, whence he hoped at least to perceive the mountain ofthe Three Breasts: but he could discern nothing around him but the topsof trees, some of which were gilded with the last beams of the settingsun. Already the shadows of the mountains were spreading over theforests in the valleys. The wind lulled, as is usually the case atsunset. The most profound silence reigned in those awful solitudes,which was only interrupted by the cry of the deer, who came to theirlairs in that unfrequented spot. Paul, in the hope that some hunterwould hear his voice, called out as loud as he was able,--"Come, come tothe help of Virginia." But the echoes of the forest alone answered hiscall, and repeated again and again, "Virginia--Virginia."
Paul at length descended from the tree, overcome with fatigue andvexation. He looked around in order to make some arrangement for passingthe night in that desert; but he could find neither fountain, norpalm-tree, nor even a branch of dry wood fit for kindling a fire. He wasthen impressed, by experience, with the sense of his own weakness, andbegan to weep. Virginia said to him,--"Do not weep, my dear brother, orI shall be overwhelmed with grief. I am the cause of all your sorrow,and of all that our mothers are suffering at this moment. I find weought to do nothing, not even good, without consulting our parents. Oh,I have been very imprudent!"--and she began to shed tears. "Let us prayto God, my dear brother," she again said, "and he will hear us." Theyhad scarcely finished their prayer, when they heard the barking of adog. "It must be the dog of some hunter," said Paul, "who comes here atnight, to lie in wait for the deer." Soon after, the dog began barkingagain with increased violence. "Surely," said Virginia, "it is Fidele,our own dog: yes,--now I know his bark. Are we then so near home?--atthe foot of our own mountain?" A moment after, Fidele was at their feet,barking, howling, moaning, and devouring them with his caresses. Beforethey could recover from their surprise, they saw Domingo running towardsthem. At the sight of the good old negro, who wept for joy, they beganto weep too, but had not the power to utter a syllable. When Domingohad recovered himself a little,--"Oh, my dear children," said he, "howmiserable have you made your mothers! How astonished they were when theyreturned with me from mass, on not finding you at home. Mary, who was atwork at a little distance, could not tell us where you were gone. I ranbackwards and forwards in the plantation, not knowing where to lookfor you. At last I took some of your old clothes, and showing them toFidele, the poor animal, as if he understood me, immediately began toscent your path; and conducted me, wagging his tail all the while, tothe Black River. I there saw a planter, who told me you had brought backa Maroon negro woman, his slave, and that he had pardoned her at yourrequest. But what a pardon! he showed her to me with her feet chained toa block of wood, and an iron collar with three hooks fastened round herneck! After that, Fidele, still on the scent, led me up
the steep bankof the Black River, where he again stopped, and barked with all hismight. This was on the brink of a spring, near which was a fallenpalm-tree, and a fire, still smoking. At last he led me to this veryspot. We are now at the foot of the mountain of the Three Breasts,and still a good four leagues from home. Come, eat, and recover yourstrength." Domingo then presented them with a cake, some fruit, anda large gourd, full of beverage composed of wine, water, lemon-juice,sugar, and nutmeg, which their mothers had prepared to invigorate andrefresh them. Virginia sighed at the recollection of the poor slave,and at the uneasiness they had given their mothers. She repeated severaltimes--"Oh, how difficult it is to do good!" While she and Paul weretaking refreshment, it being already night,