Oh, those dear letters from home!

Did not Fritz pore over them, when he and Eric got back to their little hut, glad to sit down and be quiet again, all to themselves after the excitement of the schooner’s visit and the fatigue of shipping the produce of their labours during the past?

Madame Dort’s missive was a long, voluminous epistle of ever so many pages, written in their dear mother’s clear hand, without a blot or a scratch out, or any tedious crossing of the pages to make the writing indistinct.  She had been a teacher, and able to write well, if only because she had formerly to instruct others?  The letter was public property for both, being addressed to Eric as well as Fritz, and it contained much loving news-news that caused the elder brother frequently to pause in his reading and Eric to dash away the quick tears from his bright eyes; while, anon, it made them both laugh by some funny allusion to household arrangements as they recalled the well-remembered little home scene in the old-fashioned house in which the two had been brought up, in the Gulden Straße at Lubeck.

The communication was so lengthy that it was almost a journal, Madame Dort recounting all the haps and mishaps of the family since Fritz had gone away, taking it for granted that he would have informed Eric of all that had transpired during the lad’s previous absence.

The letter mentioned, too, that the neighbours were all interested in the brothers’ adventures and called frequently to ask her about them.  Herr Grosschnapper, she also related, had especially told her that he had never employed so accurate a book-keeper as Fritz; for, the new clerk had, like a new broom, swept so clean that he had swept himself out of favour, the old merchant longing to have the widow’s son back in his counting-house again.

“I don’t wonder at that,” exclaimed Eric, interrupting the reading here.  “He should have known when he was well off and kept your place open for you until your return from the war!”

“So he did, brother, he waited as long as he could,” said Fritz, taking the part of the absent, although the matter was still a sore subject with him; and, then, he continued reading out his mother’s letter, which went on to detail Lorischen’s many dreams about the children of her nursing-how she prophesied that Eric would be such a big strapping fellow that the house would not be able to contain him, and how Mouser had developed such an affection for Gelert, that he even followed the dog, when the latter went out to take his walks abroad, in the most fearless manner possible, trusting evidently to the kindness of his canine protector to prevent other obnoxious animals like Burgher Jans terrier from molesting him!  Oh, and while mentioning the little fat man’s dog, Madame Dort said she had such a wonderful story to relate.  What would they think of Lorischen-

“I said it would turn out so!” cried Eric, interrupting his brother a second time.  “I always said it would turn out so, in spite of all our old nurse’s cruel treatment of the little Burgher.”

“What did you say, Mr Prophet?” asked Fritz good-humouredly.

“That he and Lorischen would make a match of it yet,” replied Eric, clapping his hands in high glee.  “What fun that would be!  Is it not so, brother?”

“You might be further out in your guessing than that,” said Fritz, going on to the denouement of the story told in his mother’s letter.  Yes, Madame Dort wrote, the little fat man had really, one day when Lorischen had received him more affably than usual and invited him to partake of some nice cheese-cakes she had just made, asked her to marry him!  And, more wonderful still, in spite of all their old nurse used to say about the Burgher, and how she pretended to detest him, as they must remember well, Lorischen had finally agreed to an engagement with him, promising to unite her fate with his when Herr Fritz and Master Eric came home.  “So now, dear boys both, you know how much depends on your return,” concluded their mother in her quaint way, for she had a keen appreciation of humour.  “If only to hasten the happiness of old Lorischen and her well-beloved little fat man, pray do not delay your coming back as soon as ever you can conveniently manage it.  I say nothing about myself or of Madaleine, my new daughter; for, you must be able to imagine without the aid of any words of mine, how we are both longing and praying to see you again!”

“And now for sister Madaleine’s letter,” cried Eric, when he had kissed the signature to that of his mother’s which Fritz handed over to him as soon as he had done reading it aloud.  “It seems almost as big a one as mutterchen’s and I dare say there’ll be lots more news in it!”

“Ah, I think I’ll read this first to myself,” said Fritz dryly; adding a moment after when he noticed Eric’s look of intense disgust:  “you see, she only writes to me, you know.”

“Oh yes, that’s very fine!” exclaimed the other, in a highly aggrieved tone.  “Never mind, though, I can pay you out sooner than you think, Master Fritz!  See this little note here!”

“No-yes-what is it?” said Fritz, looking up in an absent way from the second of the home letters, which now lay open on his knee.

“Ah, wouldn’t you like to know, Mr Selfish-keep-his-letters-to-himself sort of a brother, eh?  Well, then, this note here contains some of the dearest words you ever saw penned!  It was enclosed by Miss Celia Brown in a letter of her father’s to you-which you’ve taken such little account of that you chucked it down on the floor in your ridiculous hurry to read that letter which you won’t tell me about.  Now, I did intend, Master Fritz, to give you this delightful little note, which I would not part with for the world, for you to read it your own self; but, now, I shan’t let you once cast your eyes over it, there!  It is only a little tiny note; still, I think much more of it than all your big letters from that Madaleine Vogelstein, who I don’t believe is half as handsome as Celia!”

“All right then, we’re both satisfied if such is the case,” rejoined Fritz, in no way put out by this outburst, or alarmed at the terrible reprisals threatened by Eric, and then, the elder brother bowed his head again over the unfolded sheets of scented paper lying on his knee that came from his sweetheart across the sea.

The letter was all that the fondest lover could wish; and, with the omission of a few endearing terms, Fritz subsequently read it to Eric, who thereupon relented from his previous resolution and showed him Miss Celia Brown’s note.  This, however, contained nothing very remarkable, after all; unless a postscript, saying that the writer “expected to have a good time” when the sailor lad returned to Providence, deserves to be described in Eric’s extravagant language.

The schooner’s visit having settled their minds, so to speak, the brother crusoes were able after her departure to devote themselves anew, with all the greater zest, to what they now considered their regular work.

As in the previous year, before adventuring beyond their own special domain, the garden was dug up and replanted; the labour this time, of course, being far less than on the first occasion, for they had no longer virgin soil to tackle with as then.

A much larger lot of potatoes were put into the ground, the brothers having learnt by experience that, after once planting, these useful “apples of the earth” necessitated little further trouble, one good hoeing up when the sprouts had appeared above the surface and an occasional rake over to keep down the weeds being quite sufficient to make the plot look neat; while, should they have more than they required for themselves when harvest time came, they could easily store them up for the use of the Pilot’s Bride crew, as a slight return for all Captain Brown’s kindness.

A good crop of cabbages and onions was also provided for; while Eric did not forget his favourite peas and beans for their next Christmas banquet.

This task done and things tidied up about the hut, so as to make their immediate surroundings snug and comfortable, the brothers determined, the weather being now settled and fair, to have a cruise round the coast again.  They were anxious to find out whether the seals were about yet, besides wishing to pay another visit to the tableland, which they had been debarred from exploring since the bonfire had burnt up their ladder at the beginning of the winter season.

They would, naturally, have made this expedition long before, had the wind and sea not been so boisterous-very unlike, indeed, the genial spell they had experienced in the previous year; but, really, from the month of August, a succession of gales had set in from different points of the compass and the navigation was so dangerous that it would not have been safe to have ventured out beyond the bay.  Indeed, as it was, the whale-boat got so much knocked about by a heavy sea, which came rolling in on the beach one night when they had not drawn her up far enough, that she was now far too cranky for them to trust their lives in her in bad weather.

However, one fine day, late in November, with all their shooting and hunting gear, in addition to a supply of provisions for a week or ten days, they set sail from the bay bound westward round the headland, intending to have a regular outing.

Seals they found plentiful enough, the animals having returned to their breeding haunts much earlier than the year before.  They seemed, besides, so tame that the new-comers must either have been quite a fresh family of the mammals, or else the brothers had stolen a march on the Tristaners and would therefore have the advantage of the first assault on the seals.

There was nothing like taking time by the forelock, and so, without frightening the animals by any display of hostility, the brothers quietly landed their traps in a little creek some distance away from the principal cove they frequented; and then, the two organised a regular campaign against their unsuspecting prey.

Eric with a rifle and harpoon got round the seals by way of the land; while Fritz, equally well provided with weapons, assailed them from the sea in the boat, both making a rush together by a preconcerted signal.

Their strategy was triumphant this time; for, after a very one-sided battle between the intrepid seal killers on the one hand and the terrified, helpless creatures on the other, eighty-five victims were counted on the field of battle-six of the animals being sea elephants, and five sea bears, or “lions,” a species having a curious sort of curly mane round their necks, while the remainder of the slain consisted of specimens of the common seal of commerce.

“Why, brother, this is grand!” exclaimed Eric, as he and Fritz counted over the spoil.  “But, how shall we get the blubber and skins round to the bay?  Our boat will never carry them all in her leaky state.”

“Well, laddie, I thought you were the inventive genius of the family,” said the other.  “Can’t you think of an easier plan than lugging them round the headland all that way by sea?”

“I’m sure I can’t,” Eric replied, with a hopeless stare.

“Then, I’ll tell you,” said Fritz.  “What think you of our just taking them up to the top of the plateau; and, after a short walk across the tableland, pitching our bundle of spoil down right in front of our hut- without first loading up the boat and then unloading her again, besides having the trouble of toiling all the way from the beach to the cottage afterwards?”

“Why, that’s a splendid plan!” cried Eric; “almost good enough for me to have thought of it.”

“I like your impudence!” said Fritz, laughing.  “Certainly, a young sailor of my acquaintance has a very good opinion of himself!”

“Right you are,” rejoined Eric, with his time-honoured phrase; and then the two, as usual, had a hearty laugh.

Skinning the seals and packing up the layers of blubber within the pelts was then the order of the day with them for some hours, Fritz pointing out, that, if they removed all the traces of the combat before nightfall, the seals would return to their old haunt the next day, the evening tide being sufficient to wash away the traces of blood on the rocks as well as bear to the bottom the bodies of the slain victims; otherwise, the sad sight of the carcases of their slain comrades still lying about the scene of battle would prevent the scared and timid animals from coming back.

Consequently, the brothers worked hard; and, practice having made them proficients in the knack of ripping off the coats of the seals with one or two dexterous slashes with a keen knife along the stomach and down the legs of the animals, they stripped off the skins in much less time than might be imagined.

Then, the pelts and layers of blubber were rolled up together in handy bundles and conveyed up to the plateau.  This was a very tedious job, necessitating, first, a weary tramp to and from the beach to where the path led up to the summit of the tableland; and, secondly, a scramble up the rocky and wearisome ascent of the plateau, this latter part of their labour being rendered all the more difficult and disagreeable by the bundles of blubber and skins, which they had to carry up on their heads in the same fashion as negroes always convey their loads-a thing apparently easy enough to the blacks by reason of their strong craniums, but terribly “headachy” for Europeans unaccustomed to such burdens!

Fritz and Eric did not hurry over this job, however, deferring its completion till the morning.  They camped out on the plateau so as to be out of the way of the seals, glad enough to rest after their day’s labour, without going hunting after the goats, as they had intended at first doing, the same afternoon.

Next morning, seeing no seals about-the animals probably not having recovered from their fright yet-they continued carrying up the skins and blubber, until they had quite a respectable pile on the plateau; when, the next question arose about its transportation across the tableland to the eastern side, immediately over the gully by which they used to climb up, near their hut.

“I wish we had brought your carriage, Fritz,” said Eric, alluding to the wheelbarrow, which had been so styled by the sailor lad after he had utilised it as an ambulance waggon.

“It’s too late to wish that now,” replied the other.

“I could soon go round in the boat and fetch it, brother,” cried Eric, looking as if he were going to start off at the moment.

“No, stop, laddie; we could not spare the boat,” said Fritz, laying his hand on his arm.  “It would be more than likely that, the moment you were out of sight the seals would land again on the rocks, when we should miss the chance of taking them!  I don’t believe we shall have more than one other chance of getting their skins; for the Tristaners will soon be here again on their annual excursion, with that fellow Slater in their company, and, I confess, I should not like us to be here when they came.”

“I wouldn’t mind a row at all!” cried Eric defiantly; “still, as you don’t want me to go for the wheelbarrow, how do you suggest that we should carry the skins across this dreary expanse here?”

“Let us make a stretcher with the oars,” said Fritz.

“Bravo, the very thing,” replied Eric.  “Why, you are the inventive genius this time!”

“Well, one must think of something sometimes,” said Fritz, in his matter-of-fact way; and the two then proceeded to carry out the plan of the elder brother, which simplified their labour immensely.  They only had to make some three journeys across the plateau with the skins, which, when the bundles were all transported to the eastern side of the tableland, were incontinently tumbled over to the foot of the cliff below, alighting quite close to the cauldron in which the blubber would be subsequently “tried out” into oil.

Then, and not till then, did they pick up their guns and think of the goats, which had hitherto led a charmed life as far as they were concerned.

They soon noticed, however, that, in lieu of the large number they had observed when they last saw them, the flock had been now reduced to five.  The Tristaners must evidently have paid another visit to the west coast since they had met them there when going sealing the previous season; and, this second visit the brothers put down to the instigation of the whilom “deck hand,” who had no doubt incited the islanders to do everything they could to annoy them.

Fritz only shot one goat, leaving “Kaiser Billy” and the other three, on the chance of their numbers being afterwards increased.  He and Eric then went for a hunt after the wild pigs, killing a fine young porker, which they roasted on the plateau and made a feast of at their camp.  The flesh, however, was very coarse, tasting fishy and rank, probably on account of the pigs feeding on the penguins, the young of which they could easily secure by going down to the beach by the same pathway that the brothers had climbed.

Fritz and Eric stayed ten days on the western shore; but during all the time they remained they only were able to capture eleven more seals, which made up their quota to ninety-six.  Eric longed to run it up to the even hundred, but they did not see another single mammal, although they remained a day longer on the coast than they had intended.

This delay led to the most disastrous consequences; for, a gale sprang up right in their teeth when they were on their way back to the bay with the goat and the remaining sealskins, which they had not taken the trouble of transporting across the plateau, but took along with them in the boat.

It was something wonderful to notice the sea, which a short time previously had been so placid, presently running high with mighty rollers, that threatened each moment to engulf their little craft; and they had to allow her to run before the wind some little time for fear of getting her swamped.

This danger avoided, a worse one arose, which Fritz had not thought of, but which soon became apparent to the sailor lad, his intelligence heightened by his former painful experience when adrift in a boat at sea, out of sight of land.

“I say, Fritz,” he cried; “we are leaving the land!”

“What?” asked the other, not understanding him.

“We are getting away too far from the island; and if we go on like this, we’ll never get back.”

“Good heavens, what shall we do?” said Fritz.

“I’m sure, I can’t say,” replied Eric despondently.

“Can’t we put back?”

“No; we’d be upset in an instant, if we attempted it.”

“Then, we’re lost!” exclaimed Fritz.  “The land is now growing quite faint in the distance and each moment it sinks lower and lower!”

This was not the worst, either.

The afternoon was drawing to a close; and, the sky being overcast, darkness threatened presently to creep over the water and shut out everything from their gaze.