“Worse and worse,” said Fritz; “I have a particular regard for those heavy useless sticks. Did you ever hear of sugarcanes?”
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when Ernest began to suck vigorously at the end of the cane with no better result, however, than Fritz had obtained as we were on the march.
“Here,” said Fritz, “let me show you the trick of it,” and he speedily set all the youngsters to work extracting the luscious juice.
My wife, as a prudent housekeeper, was no less delighted than the children with this discovery; the sight of the dishes also pleased her greatly, for she longed to see us eat once more like civilized beings. We went into the kitchen and there found preparations for a truly sumptuous meal. Two forked sticks were planted in the ground on either side of the fire, on these rested a rod from which hung several tempting looking fish, opposite them hung a goose from a similar contrivance, slowly roasting while the gravy dropped into a large shell placed beneath it. In the centre sat the great pot from which issued the smell of a most delicious soup. To crown this splendid array, stood an open hogshead full of Dutch cheeses. All this was very pleasant to two hungry travellers, but I was about to beg my wife to spare the poultry until our stock should have increased, when she, perceiving my thought, quickly relieved my anxiety. “This is not one of our geese,” she said, “but a wild bird Ernest killed.”
“Yes,” said Ernest, “it is a Penguin, I think; it let me get quite close, so that I knocked it on the head with a stick. Here are its head and feet which I preserved to show you; the bill is, you see, narrow and curved downwards, and the feet are webbed. It had funny little bits of useless wings, and its eyes looked so solemnly and sedately at me, that I was almost ashamed to kill it. Do you not think it must have been a Penguin?”
