Swiss Family Robinson

issued from the woods, afforded them welcome relief from their fears, although the dreadful creature on my back startled them not a little.
    There was so much to tell, so much to be seen, that for a time hunger and thirst were forgotten; and no one thought even of the water we had vainly gone in search of, until Master Knips , having slyly possessed himself of some of our new-found apples, was discovered munching away and enjoying them amazingly--which instantly gave the boys a strong wish to eat some also; and as the bustard likewise pecked at them without hesitation, I felt sure there could be no danger; and on tasting them, I concluded it was the fruit of the guava, a West Indian plant, which we were delighted to have.
    Although refreshing, this fruit rather sharpened than appeased our appetites, and we were glad to eat the provisions we had brought from home, without waiting to cook anything, as we had originally intended.
    It was, in fact, high time to move homewards, and we thought it best not to encumber ourselves with the sledge and the greater part of its load, but to leave it until the next day. The ass was laden with the iguana and the bustard; and little Franz, tired as he was, looked in vain for a spare seat on its back.
    Our road home lay through a majestic forest of oak trees, beneath which lay numberless acorns, some of which we gathered as we went along; and at length, before night closed in, we all reached Falconhurst in safety. When supper was ready, we were thankful to recruit our exhausted strength by eating heartily of a piece of broiled iguana, with potatoes and roast acorns, which tasted like excellent chestnuts.

    Chapter 7

    The first thing to be done on the following day was to return to the Calabash Wood, to fetch the sledge with the dishes, bowls and baskets we had made.
    Fritz alone accompanied me. I desired the other boys to remain with their mother, intending to explore beyond the chain of rocky hills, and thinking a large party undesirable on the occasion.
    Passing through the wood of evergreen oaks, we observed our sow feasting on the acorns, evidently not a whit the worse for the fright we had given her the previous day--in fact, she appeared more friendly disposed towards us than usual, possibly considering us as her deliverers from the jaws of the savage dogs.
    Many birds tenanted this grove, and were undisturbed by our movements, until Fritz fired and shot a beautiful blue jay, and a couple of parakeets, one a brilliant scarlet, the other green and gold. Fritz was in the act of reloading his gun, when an unaccountable noise struck our ears, and put us instantly on the alert, because it appeared like the dull thumping sound of a muffled drum, and reminded us of the possible presence of savages.
    With the greatest caution we drew nearer the sound, concealing ourselves among the low bushes and thick grass and creepers, until we reached an open glade; where, standing on an old prostrate log, was a beautiful bird, about the size of a cock, of a rich chestnut brown colour , finely mottled with dark brown and grey. On the shoulders were curious tufts of velvety black feathers, glossed with green. He was ruffling his wings, erecting his tail and neck feathers, strutting and wheeling about in a most strange and stately fashion.
    After manoeuvring for some time in this manner, greatly to the edification of a party of birds resembling him but without any ruff, who, assembled round the stump, were enjoying his performances, he spread out his tail like a fan, stiffened his wings, and began to strike with them in short, rapid beats, faster and faster, until a rumbling sound like very distant thunder was produced, and the whirring wings enveloped him as in a cloud.
    This was the drumming noise which had alarmed us, increased, as I imagine, by the wing strokes falling at times on the decayed and hollow stump on which the curious pantomime was acted.
    I was watching it with the utmost interest, when a shot from behind me was fired, and in a moment the play was at an end; my over-hasty son had changed the pretty comedy into a sad and needless tragedy. The enthusiastic drummer fell dead from his perch, and the crowd of admiring companions fled in dismay.
    The cruel interruption of a scene so rare and remarkable annoyed me extremely, and I blamed Fritz for firing without my leave. I felt sure the bird was the ruffed grouse, and a very fine specimen.
    We placed it on the ass, which was patiently