CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
SEALING.
It was well on in the month of September--the spring of the year in South Atlantic latitudes--when the brothers commenced their crusoe-like life on Inaccessible Island; and, by the time that Fritz had recovered from the effects of his sprained ankle, so far as to be able to hobble about the place, it was nearly the end of October.

This was the beginning of the early summer at Inaccessible Island; and, the season being but a short one, not an hour of it could be wasted if they wished to carry out to advantage the special purpose that had taken them away from the haunts of men.
The sealing season would soon begin; and, it behoved them to be ready for it, so that they should lose no chance of securing as many skins as they could get.

The amount of oil they might procure from the boiled- down blubber was also a consideration, but only a secondary one in comparison with the pelts; for, owing to the market demand for sealskins and the wholesale extermination of the animal that supplies them that is now continually going on in arctic and antarctic seas alike, the pursuit is as valuable as it is more and more precarious each year--the breeding-grounds now being almost deserted to what they once were, even in the most out-of-the-way spots, the Esquimaux to the north and American whalers in the south having depopulated the whilom numerous herds.
The garden was the first point Fritz aimed for, when he found he could put his foot to the ground; and he proceeded thither slowly, with the aid of a stick to lean upon and with Eric "frisking round him," as he said, just like old Gelert would have done! In the comparatively short space of time since Fritz had last seen the little plot, a wonderful transformation had been effected--thanks to the richness of the virgin soil, the productiveness of the climate, and, lastly, the super-stratum of guano which Eric had suggested being placed over the clearing.
The sailor lad, too, had not forgotten each morning to water the newly planted land, which was exposed all day to the sun's heat, with the exception of a brief period in the afternoon when the shade of the cliffs extended over it; so, now, the garden presented a smiling appearance, with the potatoes just sprouting above their ridges, and cabbages and radishes coming up in clusters, while rows of peas and scarlet runners were sprouting as thick as hedges--not to speak of the slender onion stems, like tiny spears, each bearing its own seed back above ground after it had performed its creative mission below the surface, leaving a root behind.
"This looks well," said Fritz, delighted at the result of their joint handiwork.

"Bye-and-bye, we ought to reap a good return for all our labour.

I'm glad we got the job done when we did; otherwise, we should not have such a charming prospect before us." "I'm jolly glad we haven't got to do it now!" replied Eric, with a shrug of his shoulders and laughing as usual.