Here are some excerpts from the book The Swiss Family Robinson by Johann David Wyss, written in 1812, that relate to the treehouse that later became a Disneyland attraction-- over 140 years later!
(pp. 44-45)
"Thus chatting, we at length approached my pretty wood. Numbers of birds fluttered and sang among the high branches, but I did not encourage the boys in their wish to try to shoot any of the happy little creatures. We were lost in admiration of the trees in this grove, and I cannot describe to you how wonderful they are, nor can you form the least ideas of their enormous size without seeing them yourself. What we had been calling a wood proved to be a group of about a dozen trees only, and, what was strange, the roots sustained the massive trunks exalted in the air, forming strong arches, and props and stays all around each individual stem, which was firmly rooted in the center.
"I gave Jack some twine, and scrambling up one of the curious open-air roots, he succeeded in measuring round the trunk itself, and made it out to be about eighteen yards. I saw no sort of fruit, but the foliage is thick and abundant, throwing delicious shade on the ground beneath, which is carpeted with soft green herbage, and entirely free from thorns, briers, or bushes of any kind. It is the most charming resting place that ever was seen, and I and the boys enjoyed our midday meal immensely in this glorious palace of the woods, so grateful to our senses after the glare and heat of our journey thither. The dogs joined us after a while. They had lingered behind on the seashore, and I was surprised to see them lie down and go comfortably to sleep without begging for food, as they do usually when we eat.
"The longer we remained in this enchanting place the more did it charm my fancy; and if we could but manage to live in some sort of dwelling up among the branches of those grand, noble trees, I should feel perfectly safe and happy. It seemed to me absurd to suppose we should ever find another place half so lovely, so I determined to search no farther, but return to the beach and see if anything from the wreck had been cast up by the waves, which we could carry away with us.
(p. 46)
"Now I hope you approve of the proceedings of our exploring party, and that tomorrow you will do me the favor of packing everything up, and taking us away to live among my splendid trees."
"Aye, little wife," said I, "so that is your idea of comfort and security, is it? A tree, I do not know how many feet high, on which we are to perch and roost like the birds? If we had but wings or a balloon, it would, I own, be a capital plan."
"Laugh as much as you like," returned my wife, "my idea is not so absurd as you make it out. We should be safe up there from jackals' visits during the night. And I know I have seen at home, in Switzerland, quite a pretty arbor, with a strong floor, up among the branches of a lime tree, and we went up a staircase to reach it. Why could not we contrive a place like that, where we could sleep safely at night?"
"I will consider the idea seriously, my wife," said I; "perhaps something may come of it, after all! Meantime, as we have finished our supper and night is coming on, let us commend ourselves to Almighty protection and retire to rest."
(p. 56)
The wonderful appearance of the enormous trees, and the calm beauty of the spot altogether, fully came up to the enthusiastic description which had been given me. And my wife gladly heard me say that, if an abode could be contrived among the branches, it would be the safest and most charming home in the world.
(pp. 56-57)
"What sort of tree do you suppose this to be, father?" inquired Ernest, seeing me examining that under which we were encamping. "Is not the leaf something like the walnut?"
"There is a resemblance, but in my opinion these gigantic trees must be mangroves, or wild figs. I have heard of their enormous height described, and also the peculiarity of the arching roots supporting the main trunk raised above the soil."
Just then little Franz came up with a large bundle of sticks, and his mouth full of something he was eating with evident satisfaction.
"Oh, mother," cried he, "this is so good! So delicious!"
"Greedy little boy!" exclaimed she in a fright. "What have you got there? Don't swallow it, whatever you do. Very likely it is poisonous! Spit it all out this minute!" And the anxious mother quickly extracted from the rosy little mouth the remains of a small fig.
"Where did you find this?" said I.
"There are thousands lying among the grass yonder," replied the little boy. "They taste very nice. I thought poison was nasty. Do you think they will hurt me? The pigeons and the hens are gobbling them up with all their might and main, papa!"
"I think you have no cause for alarm, dear wife," I said. "The trees seem to be the fig-bearing mangrove of the Antilles. But remember, Franz, you must never eat anything without first showing it to me, never mind how good it seems. If birds and monkeys eat a fruit or vegetable, it is usually safe to believe it wholesome," added I, turning to the other boys, who, instantly taking the hint, coaxed Franz to give them the figs he still had in his pocket, and ran to offer them to Knips, who was closely watching the skinning of the porcupine, apparently giving his opinion on the subject with much chattering and gesticulation.
(p. 58)
For some time we hunted in vain nothing but rough driftwood was to be seen utterly unfit for our purpose. Ernest as length pointed out a quantity of bamboos, half buried in the sand. These were exactly what I wanted, and stripping them of their leaves I cut them into lengths of about five feet each. These I bound in bundles to carry to the tree, and then began to look about for some slight reeds to serve as arrows.
(p. 60)
"Now, boys," I said, "I am going to fire the first shot." I fastened one end of the thread to one of my arrows and aimed at a large branch above me. The arrow flew upward, bore the thread over the branch, and fell at our feet. Thus was the first step in our undertaking accomplished. Now for the rope ladder!
Fritz had obtained two coils of cord, each about forty feet in length; these we stretched on the ground side by side. Then Fritz cut the bamboos into pieces of two feet for the steps of the ladder, and as he handed them to me, I passed them through knots which I had prepared in the ropes, while Jack fixed each end with a nail driven through the wood. When the ladder was finished, I carried over the bough a rope by which it might be hauled up. This done, I fixed the lower end of the ladder firmly to the ground by means of stakes, and was all ready for the ascent. The boys, who had been watching me with intense interest, were each eager to be first.
"Jack shall have the honor," said I, "as he is the lightest. So up with you, my boy, and do not break your neck."
Jack, who was as active as a monkey, sprang up the ladder and quickly gained the top.
"Three cheers for the nest!" he exclaimed, waving his cap. "Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah for our jolly nest! What a grand house we will have up here. Come along, Fritz!"
His brother was soon by his side, and with a hammer and nails fastened the ladder yet more securely. I followed with an ax, and took a survey of the tree. It was admirably suited to our purpose. The branches were very strong and so closely interwoven that no beams would be required to form a flooring, but when some of the boughs were lopped and cleared away, a few planks would be quite sufficient.
I now called for a pulley, which my wife fastened to the cord hanging beside the ladder. I hauled it up, and while I proceeded to fasten the pulley to a stout branch above me, that we might be able to haul up the beams we should require the next day. I then made other preparations, that there might be no delay on the morrow, and a bright moon having arisen, I by its light continued working until I was quite worn out, and then at length descended to have our supper.
(p. 62)
Fritz and I then ascended the tree, and finished the preparations I had begun the night before. All useless boughs we lopped off, leaving a few about six feet from the floor, from which we might sling our hammocks, and others still higher, to support a temporary roof of sailcloth. My wife made fast the planks to a rope passed through the block I had fixed to the boughs above us, and by this means Fritz and I hauled them up. These we arranged side by side on the foundation of boughs, so as to form a smooth solid floor, and round this platform built a bulwark of planks, and then throwing the sailcloth over the higher branches, we drew it down and firmly nailed it.
Our house was thus enclosed on three sides, for behind the great trunk protected us, while the front was left open to admit the fresh sea breeze which blew directly in. We then hauled up our hammocks and bedding and slung them from the branches we had left for that purpose. A few hours of sunlight still remaining, we cleared the floor of leaves and chips, and then descended to fashion a table and a few benches from the remainder of the wood. After working like slaves all day, Fritz and I flung ourselves on the grass, while my wife arranged supper on the table we had made.
(p. 63)
We lit our watch fires and, leaving the dogs on guard below, ascended the ladder. Fritz, Ernest, and Jack were up in a moment. Their mother followed very cautiously, she yet hesitated to entrust herself to such a terrific height from the ground. When she was safely landed in the house, taking little Franz on my back, I let go the fastenings which secured the lower end of the ladder to the ground, and swinging to and fro, slowly ascended.
Then for the first time we stood all together in our new home. I drew up the ladder and, with a greater sense of security than I had enjoyed since we landed on the island, offered up our evening prayer and retired for the night.
(pp. 66-67)
"I think," observed his mother, "that, in token of gratitude for our escape, we should call it Safety Bay."
This name met with general approbation, and was forthwith fixed upon.
Other names were quickly chosen. Our first place of abode we called Tentholm; the islet in the bay, Shark Island; and the reedy swamp, Flamingo Marsh. It was some time before the serious question of a name for our leafy castle could be decided. But finally it was entitled Falconhurst; and we then rapidly named the remaining points: Prospect Hill, the eminence we first ascended; Cape Disappointment, from whose rocky heights we had strained our eyes in vain search for our ship's company; and Jackal River, as a name for the large stream at our landing place, concluded our geographical nomenclature.
Updated: January 25, 2002