Storms are usually heralded by some premonitory symptoms:  the atmosphere becomes oppressive, the clouds increase in density, the sky gradually becomes obscure and large drops of rain begin to fall, then follows the deluge, and the elements commence their strife.  It is much the same with impending misfortunes:  gloom gathers on the countenance, our movements become constrained, our thoughts wander, and a tear lingers in the corner of the eye.  Fritz and Jack endeavored in vain to appear unconcerned, but, in spite of their efforts, it was painfully evident that their minds were burdened by some heavy weight.  They were more tender and more affectionate, particularly towards their mother.  Towards evening, when they quitted the family circle for Rockhouse, their adieus were so earnest, so warm, and so often repeated, that it almost appeared as if they were laying in a stock of them for their voyage, to store up and preserve with the bacon and biscuits.  Even the animals came in for an extra share of caresses, and, if they were capable of reflection, it must have puzzled them sorely to account for all the endearments that were lavished upon them by the two brothers.

Becker himself was no less affected than his sons; sometimes, when the latter were busily occupied with some preparation for the voyage, he would fix his eyes sadly upon them, just as if every trait of these cherished features had not already been deeply graven on his soul.

During the preceding rainy season, the two young men felt the days long and tedious, and wished in their inmost hearts that they would pass away more swiftly; now, the hours seemed to fly with unaccountable rapidity, and they would gladly have lengthened them if they had had the power.  But no one can arrest

  Le temps, cette image mobile
  De l’immobile eternite.

And time is right in holding on the even tenor of its way; for if it once yielded to the desires of mortals, there would be no end of confusion and perplexity.  It takes unto itself wings and flies away, say the fortunate; it lags at a snail’s pace, say the unfortunate.  The idler knows not how to pass it away.  The man of action does not observe its progress.  Those who are looking forward to some favorite amusement exclaim, “Would that it were to-morrow!” but how many there are that might well ejaculate, from the bottom of their souls, “Would that to-morrow may never arrive!” How, then, could such wishes be met in a way to satisfy all?

A day at length arrived when everything was ready for departure, and when nothing was wanted to weigh anchor but courage on the part of the voyagers.  The pinnace was laden to the gunwale, the compass was in its place, the casks were filled with fresh water from the Jackal River, and Willis reported that both wind and sea were propitious for a start.

The morning of that day was lovely in the extreme.  Willis, Fritz, and Jack were early at Falcon’s Nest; the two families breakfasted together under the trees in the open air.  After breakfast an adjournment to the umbrageous shade of the bananas was proposed and agreed to.