Jack had finished the trial of his arrows: they flew to admiration; and he practised his new art incessantly. Little Francis waited with impatience for the moment when he should do the same, and followed with his eyes every stroke I made. But when I had finished my bow, and prepared some little arrows for him, I must next undertake to make him a quiver; for, said he, an archer can no more be without a quiver, than a sportsman without a game-bag. I found I must submit. I took some bark from the branch of a tree, which came off in a round form; and folding the edges over each other, I stuck them together with some glue produced from the soup cakes, and which answered the purpose extremely well. I next stuck on a round piece to serve for the bottom; and then tied to it a loop of string, which I hung round his neck. He put his arrows into it; and, happy as a chevalier in full armour, he took his bow in his hand, and ran to try his skill by the side of his brother. Fritz had also cleaned and prepared his materials for the cases, when his mother summoned us to dinner. We cheerfully placed ourselves under the shade of our tree, round the table I had manufactured. At the end of the repast, I made the following proposition to the boys, which I was sure would give them pleasure. + 

What think you, my good friends, said I, of giving a name to the place of our abode, and to the different parts of the country which are known to us? I do not mean a general name to the whole island, for who knows, but that some illustrious European traveller may have already bestowed on it the name either of a great navigator, or of some saint; and that our island may not already make a figure in certain maps of geography? But this need not prevent us from also giving names to the objects we are concerned with, and which will make us better understand each other, when we are conversing about them: this ceremony will also present to us the soothing illusion, of inhabiting a country already known and peopled. + 

They all exclaimed, joyfully, that the idea was excellent. + 

Jack.⁠—Oh! pray, papa, let us invent some very long names, and that are very difficult to be pronounced. I should be glad that those who shall read about us, should be a little puzzled to remember the names of the places and things that belonged to us. What pains has it not cost me to remember their Monomotapa, their Zanguebar, their Coromandel, and many other still more difficult appellations! Ah! now we shall take our revenge of them. + 

Father.⁠—This would all be very well, if it were probable that our history in this country, and the names we shall have bestowed, were likely to be objects of public curiosity; but in the meanwhile, you forget that our own organs will be fatigued, by frequently pronouncing such barbarous names as you propose. + 

Jack.⁠—How shall we manage then? What pretty names can we find? + 

Father.⁠—We will do as all sorts of nations have done before us. We will name the places by different words from our own language, that shall express some particular circumstance with which we have been concerned. + 

Jack.⁠—Well, so we will; I shall like this still better. Where shall we begin? + 

Father.⁠—We shall naturally begin with the bay by which we entered this country. What shall we call it? What say you, Fritz? You must speak first, for you are the eldest. + 

Fritz.⁠—Let us call it Oyster Bay: you remember what quantities of oysters we found in it. + 

Jack.⁠—Oh, no! let it rather be called Lobster Bay; for you cannot have forgot what a large one it was that caught hold of my leg, and which I carried home to you. + 

Ernest.⁠—Why then we may as well call it the Bay of Tears, for you must remember that you roared loud enough for all of us to hear you. + 

My Wife.⁠—My advice would be that, out of gratitude to God, who conducted us hither in safety, we ought to call it Providence Bay, or the Bay of Safety. + 

Father.⁠—This name is both appropriate and sonorous, and pleases me extremely. But what name shall we give to the spot where we first set up our tent? + 

Fritz.⁠—Let us call it simply Tent-House. + 

Father.⁠—That name will do very well. And the little islet at the entrance of Providence Bay, in which we found so many planks and beams that enabled us to make our bridge, how shall it be named? + 

Ernest.⁠—It may be called Seagull Island, or Shark Island, for it was here we saw both those animals. + 

Father.⁠—I am for the last of these names, Shark Island; for it was the shark that was the cause of the seagulls being there; and it will also be a means of commemorating the courage and the triumph of Fritz, who had killed the monster. + 

Jack.⁠—For the same reason we will call the marsh, in which you cut the canes for our arrows, Flamingo Marsh. + 

Father.⁠—Quite right, I think; and the plain, through which we passed on our way to this place, Porcupine Field, in memory of your skilful encounter with him. But now comes the great question⁠—What name shall we give to our present abode? + 

Ernest.⁠—It ought to be called, simply, Tree Castle. + 

Fritz.⁠—No, no, that will not do at all; that is the same as if, when we wanted to name a town, we called it The Town. Let us invent a more noble name. + 

Jack.⁠—Yes, so we will. I say Fig Town. + 

Fritz.⁠—Ha, ha, ha! a noble name, it must be confessed! Let us call it The Eagle’s Nest, which I am sure has a much better sound. Besides, our habitation in the tree, is really much more like a nest, than a town, and the eagle cannot but ennoble it, since he is the king of birds. + 

Father.⁠—Will you let me decide the question for you? I think our abode should be called The Falcon’s Nest; for, my boys, you are not yet arrived at the dignity of eagles, but are simply, poor birds of prey; and like the falcon, you also are, I trust, obedient, docile, active, and courageous. Ernest can have no objection to this; for, as he knows, falcons make their nests in large trees. All exclaimed, clapping their hands, Yes, yes, we will have it The Falcon’s Nest! the sound is quite chivalrous; so, Health to Falcon’s Nest Castle! cried they all, looking up to the tree, and making low bows. I poured out a small quantity of sweet wine, and presented it to each, to solemnize our baptism. And how, said I, shall we name the promontory, where Fritz and I in vain wearied our eyes, in search of our companions of the vessel? I think it may properly be called, Cape Disappointment. + 

All.⁠—Yes, this is excellent. And the river with the bridge⁠— + 

Father.⁠—If you wish to commemorate one of the greatest events of our history, it ought to be called The Jackall’s River; for these animals crossed it when they came and attacked us, and it was there that one of them was killed. The bridge I should name Family Bridge, because we were all employed in its construction, and all crossed it together in our way to this place. It will be quite a pleasure to converse about the country we inhabit, now that we have instituted names as if everything belonged to us. + 

Ernest.⁠—It will be just as if we had farms and country houses, all dependent upon our castle. + 

Francis.⁠—It is the same as if we were kings. + 

My Wife.⁠—And the queen-mother is not without hope, that her little slips of majesty will conduct themselves mercifully towards their subjects⁠—the birds, the agoutis, the geese, and the flamingoes; the⁠ ⁠… What more shall I say? for I do not know the family name of all your vassals. Let me, therefore, end, by hoping that you will not depopulate your kingdom. + 

Fritz.⁠—No, mother, we will take care of that. We will endeavour to extirpate, only those among our subjects, who are wicked. + 

In this pleasing kind of chat, the time of dinner passed agreeably away. We settled the basis of a geography of our own country; and amused ourselves with saying that it must go by the first post to Europe. + 

After dinner, Fritz again set to work upon his case; and, to my great astonishment, he had possession of one of the cork-jackets, and was preparing to cut it to pieces, and use it as a lining to the cylinders. In the name of Heaven, cried I, where did you get the jacket? I was quite sure we had left them all at Tent-House; and when I gave you leave this morning, to take one of them, it was in the hope that, tired with waiting, you would use some other wood, and that the jacket would escape. As it is, I must shut my eyes while you cut it, for I will not retract my word. But tell me where you got it? It was I, said my wife, who placed it as a saddle on the ass’s back, for little Francis to sit upon. You, it seems, did not observe it; but nothing escapes that lynx-eyed boy of ours, called Fritz. + 

Well, well, since it is thus, replied I, let him make use of it if he can; the cutting it will at least exercise his patience. I shall soon find how to manage it, said Fritz, by holding it near the fire. We let him do as he liked, and I went out to look for Jack, whom I met, dragging the skin of his porcupine with great difficulty along; for it was still armed with all the quills, with the exception of about a dozen, which we had taken for the arrows. He spread it at my feet, entreating me to assist him in making some coats of mail, or cuirasses, of it, for the dogs, as I had before recommended to him, and which he had taken care not to forget. After making him clean the skin completely on the inside, with some cinders and sand mixed together, I assisted him in cutting it, and his mother helped him in the sewing. When this was done, we put the first that was dried on the back of the patient Turk, which gave him a respectable warlike sort of an appearance, and no one could doubt that he was sufficiently well armed to encounter even an hyena. + 

His companion, Ponto, had less reason to be pleased with this new kind of spiked accoutrement. Turk, unconsious of one particular quality in his new dress, approached near to Ponto and lay down by his side, who sprang off in a fright, searching about, for some place where he might be sheltered from the perforating familiarities of his companion. Jack’s concluding business, was, stripping the skin from the head of the porcupine, and stretching it on one of the roots of our trees to dry, intending to make a cap of it, like those worn by the savages, which, he said, would frighten our enemies should they approach; while, in the meantime, his friends, if they liked it, might set it on a pole and make merry with it. + 

During our employment, Ernest and Francis had been exercising themselves in shooting their arrows: the evening was advancing, and the intense heat of the day began to diminish. I invited all my family to take a walk: Leave your work for this time, my boys, said I, and let us make a short excursion; and, as a suitable conclusion to the day, let us seek in the beautiful face of Nature, for traces of the wisdom and goodness of the Creator. Which way shall we direct our steps? + 

Fritz.⁠—Let us go to Tent-House, father; we are in want of powder and shot for the little consumers of our figs; nor must we miss our dinner for tomorrow, or forget that we are to secure a supply for winter. + 

My Wife.⁠—I too vote for Tent-House; my butter is nearly gone, for Fritz took an unreasonable share for his new trade of tanning; also, I have never failed to observe, that those who most zealously preach a life of frugality and economy, are at least as well satisfied as the rest, when I take care to present them with an excellent and well dressed dinner. + 

Ernest.⁠—If we go to Tent-House, let us try to bring away some of the geese and ducks with us: they will look very well swimming about in our stream here, by Falcon’s Nest. + 

Jack.⁠—I will undertake to catch them, if anyone will help to bring them home. + 

Francis.⁠—And I will catch my handkerchief full of lobsters in the Jackall’s River, and we will put them into Falcon’s Stream, where, no doubt, they will thrive to admiration. + 

Father.⁠—You really all of you assign such good reasons, that I see I must yield to them. To Tent-House, then, we will go; but we will not take our accustomed road along the seashore, but rather vary our pleasure, by trying to explore some other way. We will keep along our own little stream as far as the wall of rocks, whose agreeable shade will accompany us almost as far as the cascade formed by Jackall’s River: it will, I hope, as we have no burden to carry, be easy for us to cross it, by jumping from stone to stone, and so to get to Tent-House: we will return with our provisions by the road of Family Bridge, and along the seashore; the sun, if not gone down, will then be at our backs. This new route may possibly furnish some additional discoveries. + 

My idea was highly applauded, and all was soon arranged for our setting out. Fritz was adorned with his fine tiger-cat-made belt, but he had not been able to finish his cases in time. Jack walked gravely on, his porcupine cap upon his head, and his jackall belt, armed with his two pistols, round his waist. Each carried a gun and a game-bag; even little Francis had his bow in his hand, and his quiver on his shoulder; and being both pretty and of a fair complexion, he resembled a little Cupid. Their mother was the only person not burdened with a gun; but she carried her large butter-pot, to fill it at our storehouse. Turk marched before us with his coat of mail studded with spikes, but it was apparent that he felt intimidated and ill at ease; his step was therefore slow and quiet. The monkey also, having a great desire to accompany us, leaped without ceremony on his accustomed seat, the back of Turk. But when he perceived the formidable saddle and the projecting spikes, he sprang four times forward, making the most comical grimaces imaginable. He was not long, however, in choosing what to do. Ponto, he saw, was without such a frightful instrument; so he jumped upon him in a trice, and clung so closely to his back, that the dog could not shake him off: he therefore gave up the endeavour, and quietly submitted to carry him. Even our new friend, the flamingo, seemed to understand that some extraordinary movement was in agitation, and prepared to make one of the party. The pretty kind-tempered animal had become every day more tame, and attached himself to us with a confidence which increased our goodwill towards him. The boys, enchanted by the manner in which he placed himself in the ranks with us, all contended for being his companion; but the flamingo adopted the prudent measure of coming up to me, and showing his reliance on my protection, by walking gravely by my side. + 

Our route along the stream, was at first extremely agreeable, being sheltered by the shade of large trees, while the ground under our feet was a short and soft kind of grass. To prolong the pleasure of our walk, we proceeded slowly, amusing ourselves with looking about us to the right and left; the eldest boys made frequent escapes on before, so that we sometimes lost sight of them. In this manner we reached the end of the wood; but the country now appearing to be less open, we thought it would be prudent to bring our whole company together. On looking forward, we saw the boys approaching us full gallop, and this time, for a wonder, the grave Ernest was first. He reached me panting for breath, and so full of joy and eagerness, that he could not pronounce a single word distinctly; but he held out his hand, which contained three little balls of a light green colour. + 

We have found a prize indeed, father, cried he at last, when he had recovered his voice; we have found some potato seed! + 

What say you? potato seed? inquired I joyfully; have you really been so fortunate? Come near, every one of you, and let me look at your little balls; for I scarcely dared believe in so happy an event, as the discovery of a plant which would place us forever beyond the reach of hunger, and even of apprehension. It was you then, Ernest, who found the prize, and our grateful thanks are your due. + 

Jack.⁠—I do not see any great merit there was in the case. I should have found them as soon as he, if I had been in the right place. I see no great talent in what he has done. + 

My Wife.⁠—But, Jack, there is still less talent in your attempt to undervalue the useful discovery your brother has made, and in seeking to diminish the obligation, which we ought rather to feel a pleasure in acknowledging. This little movement of envy in your bosom occasions me uneasiness; I must add, that it is by no means certain that, even if you had been in the same place, you would have remarked the potatoes; that you, who are so thoughtless and unobserving, would have known the leaves for those of the potato plant. Ernest gives more attention to what he sees, and his discoveries are not merely the effect of hazard, but of observation also. Perhaps, too, you do not know a potato when you see it; and it is even possible that we may ourselves mistake the plant, from our great eagerness to meet the confirmation of our wishes; for there are, no doubt, other plants which also produce small green round balls upon their stalks. + 

Francis.⁠—Why, do potato plants bear fruit on their branches as well as at the roots? + 

Ernest.⁠—Little blockhead! do you think, then, that the roots bear blossoms? Do you not know that the vegetable called the potato, is only the root of the plant, or at least a part of the root, and not a fruit? The fruit, in all plants, is the depository of the seed, which must ripen in the sun, and consequently above ground: these little green balls, therefore, are the real fruit which succeed to the blossom, and contain the seed. + 

I did not fail to applaud Ernest for this clear and sensible explanation. We all hastened to the place where he had seen these tubercles, and, with extreme joy, we found there a large plantation of potato plants; a part of them were covered with their lilac and yellow blossoms, the sight of which conveyed more pleasure to our hearts than if they had been the most fragrant roses; another portion of the plantation was in seed; and in several places, some younger plants were pushing through the earth. Our petulant Jack bawled out, jumping for joy, They are really potatoes! and though it was not I who discovered them, at least it shall be I who will dig them up. Saying this, he knelt down and began to scratch up the earth with all ten fingers of his feeble hands. He would not, however, have made much progress, if the monkey, excited by his example, had not also set himself to work. He dug up several with great dexterity; and after smelling at them, he was going to throw them to a distance: but Jack snatched them eagerly out of his paws, and gave them to his mother; and afterwards the monkey and he continued digging up the potatoes together, and soon obtained enough to serve up for a dinner. The rest of us, unwilling to be idle spectators, set to work also; with our knives and sticks we soon procured a sufficient number, to fill our bags and our pockets. When we were well loaded, we again began to think of our walk to Tent-House. Some of our company raised their voices in favour of returning immediately to Falcon Stream, to unload our cargo, and prepare our booty for a delicious meal; but so many pressing motives presented themselves for proceeding to our storehouse, that it was decided we should continue our route, which we accordingly resumed. + 

My children, said I, as we pursued our way, this discovery of the potatoes is one of inestimable value; it reminds me of a passage in the Bible, which is strikingly applicable to our situation, and ought to awaken a sentiment of the warmest gratitude in our hearts, towards our heavenly Father: it is a part of the hundred-and-seventh psalm, and these are the words: + 

“They wandered in the wilderness, in a solitary way; they found no city to dwell in: hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted within them: then they cried unto the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them out of their distress: he led them forth by the right way, that they might go to the place of their habitation. He satisfieth the longing spirit, and filleth the hungry soul with his goodness.” + 

Fritz.⁠—This is truly applicable to our situation, and we will all return thanks to God for so inestimable a gift. + 

Father.⁠—There are, no doubt, different kinds of vegetables, more succulent and more delicate than the potatoe; but it is precisely this plain tasteless kind of sustenance, that can be eaten for the longest time together, without satiety: accordingly, food of this nature, such as bread, rice, potatoes, obtains, on the whole, a preference over provisions possessing a higher flavour. Can you tell me, boys, the reason of this? + 

Ernest.⁠—I know; it is because they are more wholesome. + 

Jack.⁠—And because they occasion no disgust; I could eat potatoes every day of my life, without being tired of them. + 

Father.⁠—All you say is true; in future they will serve us for bread, and often indeed for our whole dinner. But let us for the present dismiss the subject of our unexpected good fortune, and resume our expedition. + 