Swiss Family Robinson

and began to lick the hands which fed her; but Turk, who was of a more fierce and independent temper, still held off, and seemed to lack confidence in Fritz's advances.
    `Give him a claw of my lobster,' cried Jack, `for I meant to give it to you anyway, for your journey.'
    With that treat, Turk seemed ready to forgive Fritz. We then armed ourselves, each taking a gun and a game-bag; Fritz, in addition, sticking a pair of pistols in his belt, and I a small hatchet in mine; breakfast being over, we stowed away the remainder of the lobster and some biscuits, with a flask of water, and were ready for a start.
    `Stop!' I exclaimed, `we have still left something very important undone.'
    `Surely not,' said Fritz.
    `Yes,' said I, `we have not yet joined in morning prayer. We are only too ready, amid the cares and pleasures of this life, to forget the God to whom we owe all things.' Then having commended ourselves to his protecting care, I took leave of my wife and children, and bidding them not wander far from the boat and tent, we parted not without some anxiety on either side, for we knew not what might assail us in this unknown region.
    We now found that the banks of the stream were on both sides so rocky that we could get down to the water by only one narrow passage, and there was no corresponding path on the other side. I was glad to see this, however, for I now knew that my wife and children were on a comparatively inaccessible spot, the other side of the tent being protected by steep and precipitous cliffs.
    Fritz and I pursued our way up the stream until we reached a point where the waters fell from a considerable height in a cascade, and where several large rocks lay half covered by the water; by means of these we succeeded in crossing the stream in safety. We thus had the sea on our left, and a long line of rocky heights, here and there adorned with clumps of trees, stretching away inland to the right.
    We had forced our way scarcely fifty yards through the long rank grass, which was here partly withered by the sun and much tangled, when we were much alarmed on hearing behind us a rustling, and on looking round, we saw the grass waving to and fro, as if some animal were passing through it. Fritz instantly turned and brought his gun to his shoulder, ready to fire the moment the beast should appear.
    I was much pleased with my son's coolness and presence of mind, for it showed me that I might thoroughly rely upon him on any future occasion when real danger might occur. This time, however, no savage beast rushed out, but our trusty dog Turk, whom, in our anxiety at parting, we had forgotten, and who had been sent after us doubtless by my thoughtful wife. I did not fail to commend both the bravery and the discretion of my son, in not yielding to even a rational alarm, and for waiting until he was sure of the object before he resolved to fire.
    From this little incident, however, we saw how dangerous was our position , and how difficult escape would be should any fierce beast steal upon us unawares: we therefore hastened to make our way to the open seashore. Here the scene which presented itself was indeed delightful. A background of hills, the green waving grass, the pleasant groups of trees stretching here and there to the very water's edge, formed a lovely prospect.
    On the smooth sand we searched carefully for any trace of our hapless companions, but not the mark of a footstep could we find. `Shall I fire a shot or two?' said Fritz. `That would bring our companions, if they are within hearing.'
    `It would indeed,' I replied, `or any savages that may be here. No, no; let us search diligently, but as quietly as possible.'
    `But why, father, should we trouble ourselves about them at all? They left us to shift for ourselves, and I for one don't care to set eyes on them again.'
    `You are wrong, my boy,' said I. `In the first place, we should not return evil for evil; then, again, they might be of great assistance to us in building a house of some sort; and lastly, you must remember that they took nothing with them from the vessel, and may be perishing of hunger.'
    `But father, while we are wandering here and losing our time almost without a hope of benefit to them, why should we not instead return to the vessel and save the animals on board?'
    `When a variety of duties present themselves for our choice, we should always give the preference to that which can confer the most solid advantage,' I replied. `The saving of the