To all this wealth must be added the resources rendered available to bold hunters by the fauna of New Switzerland. Among the wild animals from which they had, though very occasionally, to defend themselves were the tapir, lion, bear, jackal, tiger-cat, tiger, crocodile, panther, and elephant; while the depredations of the apes were so serious as to necessitate a general massacre. Among the quadrupeds, some of which were capable of domestication, were the onager and the buffalo, and among the winged tribe were an eagle, which became Fritz's hunting bird, and an ostrich which Jack trained to be his favourite mount.
As for game, both furred and feathered, there was abundance in the woods round about Wood Grange and the hermitage at Eberfurt. Jackal River supplied excellent crayfish. Among the rocks on the shore molluscs and crustaceans swarmed. And finally, the sea teemed with herrings, sturgeon, salmon, and other fish.
During this long period no journeys of exploration were carried out beyond the country between Nautilus Bay and Deliverance Bay. The coast beyond False Hope Point was explored later, to a distance of about twenty-five miles. Besides the pinnace M. Zermatt now possessed a long-boat, built under his direction. And further, at Fritz's request, they made a light canoe of the Greenlander pattern known as a kayak, using the whalebone taken from a whale which had been stranded at the entrance to Flamingo Bay for the ribs of the craft and the skins of dog-fish for her hull. This portable canoe, which careful caulking and tarring rendered quite water-tight, was provided with openings in which two paddlers could sit; the second could be hermetically closed when only the first was occupied.
Ten years passed without any incidents of serious importance. M. Zermatt, now forty-five years of age, enjoyed invariable good health and possessed a moral and physical endurance which had been developed to a higher degree by the uncertainties of an existence so far removed from the ordinary. Betsy, the energetic mother of four sons, was entering upon her forty-third year. Neither her physical strength nor her courage was abated, nor yet her love for her husband and children.
Fritz, now twenty-five, and the possessor of astonishing strength, suppleness, and skill, with a frank countenance, open face and amazingly keen eyes, had improved enormously in character.
Ernest, of graver bent than his twenty-two years warranted, and more skilled in mental than in physical exercises, was a great contrast to Fritz, and had educated himself highly by drawing upon the library taken from the Landlord.
Jack at twenty bubbled over with the joy of life. He was vivacity and perpetual motion incarnate, as adventurous as Fritz and as passionately fond of sport.
Although little Frank had now become a big boy of sixteen, his mother still petted and made much of him as if he were only ten.
Thus the existence of this family was as happy as could be, and many a time Mme. Zermatt used to say to her husband:
"Ah, my dear, would it not be real happiness if we could always live with our children, and if, in this solitude, we were not obliged to pass away one after another, leaving the survivors to sorrow and forlornness! Yes, I would bless the God who has given us this paradise on earth! But, alas, a day will come when we must close our eyes."
That was, and had ever been, the gravest preoccupation of Betsy's mind. Often did she and M. Zermatt confide to one another their only too well-founded apprehensions on this score. But this year, an unexpected event happened which was destined to modify their present and perhaps their future situation.
On the 9th of April, about seven o'clock in the morning, when M. Zermatt came out of the house with Ernest, Jack and Frank, he looked in vain for his eldest son, whom he supposed to be engaged in some work outside.
Fritz was often absent, and there was nothing in his being away now to make his father or his mother uneasy, although Mme. Zermatt was always rather nervous when her son ventured out on the open sea beyond Deliverance Bay.
It was practically certain that the intrepid young fellow was at sea, since the canoe was not in its shelter.
As the afternoon was wearing on M. Zermatt, with Ernest and Jack, took the boat to Shark's Island, there to watch for Fritz's return. It was arranged that M. Zermatt should fire a cannon if he were delayed in getting home, in order that his wife might not be left in a state of uncertainty.
There was, however, no occasion for this. Father and sons had barely set foot on the island when Fritz came round False Hope Point. Directly they saw him, M. Zermatt, Ernest, and Jack took to their boat again. They landed in the bay at Rock Castle at the same moment that Fritz jumped out onto the beach.
Fritz was then obliged to narrate the events of his voyage, which had lasted for nearly twenty-four hours. For some time past he had been contemplating an exploration of the northern coast. So that morning he had taken his eagle, Blitz, and put his canoe in the water. He took some provisions, an axe, a harpoon, a boat-hook, fishing lines, a gun, a pair of pistols, a game-bag, and a flask of mead. The wind blowing off shore, the ebb tide carried him rapidly beyond the cape, and he followed the line of shore, sloping somewhat towards the south-west.
Behind the point, and behind a succeeding mass of enormous rocks piled up by nature in awful disorder as the result of some violent volcanic convulsion, a spacious bay was hollowed out in the coast, bounded on the far side by a perpendicular promontory. This bay furnished an asylum for all kinds of sea-birds, which made the welkin ring with their cries. On the shore huge amphibians snored in the sun, seabears, seals, walruses and others, while countless myriads of graceful nautiluses rode on the surface of the water.
Fritz was not anxious to have any dealings with these formidable sea-monsters in his frail boat. So, pushing out towards the mouth of the bay, he continued his voyage westward.
After rounding a point of singular shape, to which he gave the name of Cape Snub-nose, he entered a natural archway, the foot of whose pillars was washed by the surf. Here there were thousands of swallows, whose nests were plastered to the crannies of the walls and roof. Fritz detached several of these nests, which were of strange construction, and put them in a bag.
"These swallows' nests," said M. Zermatt, interrupting his son's story, "are a very valuable article of commerce in China."
Outside the archway Fritz found another bay, contained between two capes situated about four miles apart. These were linked together, so to speak, by a sprinkling of reefs with an opening only wide enough to permit the passage of a ship of three or four hundred tons at most.
Behind the bay, as far as eye could see, rolled broad savannahs watered by clear streams, woods, marshes, and landscapes of every variety. The bay itself held treasure of inexhaustible value in the shape of pearl oysters, some magnificent samples of which Fritz brought back with him.
After partly rounding the inside of the bay, and crossing the mouth of a river teeming with aquatic plants of every kind, the canoe reached the promontory opposite the archway.
Fritz then decided that he must not carry his expedition any further. The hour was getting late, so he resumed his course to the coast, making for False Hope Point, which he rounded before the gun on Shark's Island had been fired.
This was the story the young man told of the voyage which resulted in the discovery of Pearl Bay. But when he was alone with M. Zermatt, he amazed his father by telling him more in confidence.
Among the countless birds which wheeled and wound above the promontory—sea-swallows, sea-gulls and frigate-birds—there were also several pairs of albatrosses, one of which Fritz knocked down with a blow from his boat-hook.
While he was holding the bird on his knees, Fritz saw a scrap of coarse linen tied round one of its feet, and on this was legibly written in English:
"Whoever you may be to whom God may send this message from an unhappy woman, look for a volcanic island which you will know by the flames escaping from one of its craters. Save the unfortunate woman who is alone on the Burning Rock!"
Somewhere in the waters of New Switzerland, a hapless girl or woman was living, had perhaps bee
n living for several years, upon an island, with none of the resources which the Landlord had provided for the shipwrecked family 1
"What did you do?" M. Zermatt asked.
"The only thing that could be done," Fritz replied. "I tried to restore the albatross, which was only stunned by the blow from the boat-hook, and I succeeded in doing so by pouring a little mead down its beak. On a piece of my handkerchief I wrote with the blood of a sea otter these words in English: Tut your trust in God. Perhaps His help is near.' Then I tied the piece of handkerchief to the albatross's foot, feeling sure that the bird was a tame one, and would go back to Burning Rock with my message. The minute I set it free the albatross flew off towards the west, so fast that I soon lost sight of it, and it was quite impossible for me to go after it."
M. Zermatt was deeply concerned. What could he do to rescue this unfortunate woman? Where was the Burning Rock? In the near neighbourhood of New Switzerland or hundreds of miles to the west? The albatross is powerful and tireless in flight, and can travel vast distances. Had this one come from some far distant sea which the pinnace could not reach?
Fritz was warmly commended by his father for having confided the secret to him only, since its disclosure might only have upset the other boys and Mme. Zermatt to no good purpose. The shipwrecked girl on Burning Rock might now be dead. The note had no date on it. Several years might have passed since the message was tied to the foot of the albatross.
So the secret was kept. Unhappily it was only too plain that no attempt could be made to discover the English girl on her island.
However, M. Zermatt resolved to explore Pearl Bay and ascertain the value of the oyster beds it contained. Betsy agreed, though rather reluctantly, to remain at Rock Castle with Frank. Ernest and Jack were to accompany their father.
The next day but one, the nth of April, the longboat left the little cove by Jackal River and was rapidly borne by the current towards the north. Several of the pet animals joined the ship's company: the monkey, Nip the Second, Jack's jackal, the old dog Floss, and lastly Brownie and Fawn, two dogs in the prime of life.
Fritz, in his canoe, went in front of the boat, and having rounded False Hope Point he took the westerly course through the midst of the rocks where the walruses and other amphibian creatures of this shore abounded.
But it was not these creatures that attracted M. Zermatt's attention so much as the countless nautiluses already observed by Fritz. The whole bay was covered with these graceful creatures, their little sails spread out to catch the breeze, like a fleet of moving flowers.
After covering some seven miles from False Hope Point, Fritz pointed out at the far end of Nautilus Bay Cape Snub-nose, a cape which really was exactly like a nose of that shape. Four miles further on the archway curved up, and beyond that was Pearl Bay.
As they went through this archway Ernest and Jack collected a quantity of nests of the esculent swallow, though the birds defended them with fury.
When the boat had passed through the narrow strait between the archway and the ridge of reefs, the spacious bay was revealed in its full extent, twenty to twenty-five miles in circumference.
It was a pure delight to sail over the surface of this splendid sheet of water, from the midst of which three or four wooded islands emerged. The bay was enclosed by verdant pasture lands, dense groves, and picturesque hills. On the west, there ran into it a pretty river, whose bed was hidden among the trees.
The boat touched shore in a little creek, close to the pearl oyster bed. As evening was closing in, M. Zermatt pitched camp by the edge of a stream. A fire was lighted, and some eggs were roasted in its ashes; these, with pemmican, potatoes, and maize biscuits, furnished the repast. Then, as a matter of precaution, all found quarters in the boat, leaving to Brownie and Fawn the duty of defending the camp against the jackals which could be heard howling all along the stream.
Three days, from the 12th to the 14th, were spent in fishing for oysters, all of which held pearls. In the evening Fritz and Jack went out after duck and partridge in a little wood on the right bank of the watercourse. They were obliged to be on their guard. Boars were plentiful in this wood, and there were other more formidable animals.
Indeed, in the evening of the 14th, a huge lion and lioness appeared, roaring and waving their tails in fury. After the lion had fallen, shot through the heart by Fritz, the lioness fell too, but not before, with a blow of her paw, she had broken the skull of poor old Floss, to her master's keen regret.
Thus it was established that some wild beasts inhabited this portion of New Switzerland, to the south and west of Pearl Bay, and outside the Promised Land. It was a happy chance that hitherto none of these creatures had forced their way into that district through the defile of Cluse; but M. Zermatt determined to block up this defile, which cut through the rampart of rock, as effectually as he could.
In the meanwhile a general instruction was issued, especially to Fritz and Jack, whose passion for hunting sometimes led them into imprudent excursions, that care should be taken to avoid such encounters as this.
The whole of this day was devoted to emptying the oysters piled up on the shore, and as this mass of molluscs was beginning to throw off exhalations that were anything but healthy, M. Zermatt and his sons determined to leave next morning at daybreak. It was necessary to return to Rock Castle, for Mme. Zermatt would be anxious. So the boat set out, preceded by the canoe. But when they reached the archway, Fritz passed a note to his father, and then sped away in the direction of the west. M. Zermatt could not fail to understand that he was going off to find the Burning Rock.
CHAPTER V - THE STORY OF JENNY MONTROSE
M. ZERMATT felt very anxious when he thought of the risks his son was about to run. But as he could neither stop him nor go with him the boat was obliged to continue its course towards False Hope Point.
When he got back to Rock Castle M. Zermatt decided still to say nothing to his children, or even to his wife. It would only have meant exciting useless fears, and possibly raising idle hopes. He only talked about an exploration to be conducted towards the west side of the shore. But when the absent one had not come back, at the end of three days, M. Zermatt was so uneasy that he resolved to go to look for him.
At daybreak on the 20th of April the Elizabeth got under way. She had been properly provisioned for this voyage, and had on board father, mother, and the three sons.
A better wind could not have been wished for. A good breeze blew from the south-west, allowing the pinnace to sail along the coast. In the afternoon she rounded the rocks of the archway and entered Pearl Bay.
M. Zermatt dropped anchor near the oyster bed, at the mouth of the river, where traces of the last camp were still to be seen. They were all preparing to go ashore when Ernest exclaimed: "A savage! A savage!''
And there indeed, towards the west of the bay, between the wooded islets, was a canoe moving about, seemingly mistrustful of the pinnace.
Never as yet had there been any ground for believing that New Switzerland was inhabited. Now, in view of a possible attack, the Elizabeth put herself on the defensive, with cannon loaded and guns ready to fire. But as soon as the savage had approached within a few cables' length, Jack cried out:
"It is Fritz!"
Fritz it was, alone in his canoe. Not having recognised from a distance the pinnace, which he had not expected to see in these waters, he was advancing cautiously, having even taken the precaution to blacken his face and hands.
When he had joined his family and embraced his mother and brothers, not without leaving a few smuts upon their cheeks, he led his father to one side.
"I have succeeded," he said.
"What? The English girl on Burning Rock?"
"Yes, she is there, quite close, on an island in Pearl Bay," Fritz replied.
Without a word to his wife or children, M. Zermatt turned the pinnace towards the island pointed out by Fritz near the western shore of the bay. As they approached they could see a little wood of palms
close to the beach, and in the wood a hut built in the Hottentot fashion.
They all landed, and Fritz fired a pistol in the air. Then they saw what looked like a young man come down from a tree in whose branches he was hiding.
But it was not a young man. It was a girl of about twenty, dressed like a midshipman. She was Jenny Montrose, the young English girl of the Burning Rock.
Mme. Zermatt, Ernest, Jack, and Frank now learnt the circumstances in which Fritz had discovered the situation of the deserted creature on a volcanic island in the open sea outside Pearl Bay, and how he had replied in a note which the young girl had never received, for the albatross did not return to Burning Rock.