The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe
the wind also freshening, how gladly I spread my sail to it, running
cheerfully before the wind, and with a strong tide or eddy underfoot.
This eddy carried me about a league on my way back again, directly
towards the island, but about two leagues more to the northward than
the current which carried me away at first; so that when I came near
the island, I found myself open to the northern shore of it, that is to
say, the other end of the island, opposite to that which I went out
from.
When I had made something more than a league of way by the help of this
current or eddy, I found it was spent, and served me no further.
However, I found that being between two great currents—viz. that on the
south side, which had hurried me away, and that on the north, which lay
about a league on the other side; I say, between these two, in the wake
of the island, I found the water at least still, and running no way;
and having still a breeze of wind fair for me, I kept on steering
directly for the island, though not making such fresh way as I did
before.
About four o’clock in the evening, being then within a league of the
island, I found the point of the rocks which occasioned this disaster
stretching out, as is described before, to the southward, and casting
off the current more southerly, had, of course, made another eddy to
the north; and this I found very strong, but not directly setting the
way my course lay, which was due west, but almost full north. However,
having a fresh gale, I stretched across this eddy, slanting north-west;
and in about an hour came within about a mile of the shore, where, it
being smooth water, I soon got to land.
When I was on shore, I fell on my knees and gave God thanks for my
deliverance, resolving to lay aside all thoughts of my deliverance by
my boat; and refreshing myself with such things as I had, I brought my
boat close to the shore, in a little cove that I had spied under some
trees, and laid me down to sleep, being quite spent with the labour and
fatigue of the voyage.
I was now at a great loss which way to get home with my boat! I had run
so much hazard, and knew too much of the case, to think of attempting
it by the way I went out; and what might be at the other side (I mean
the west side) I knew not, nor had I any mind to run any more ventures;
so I resolved on the next morning to make my way westward along the
shore, and to see if there was no creek where I might lay up my frigate
in safety, so as to have her again if I wanted her. In about three
miles or thereabouts, coasting the shore, I came to a very good inlet
or bay, about a mile over, which narrowed till it came to a very little
rivulet or brook, where I found a very convenient harbour for my boat,
and where she lay as if she had been in a little dock made on purpose
for her. Here I put in, and having stowed my boat very safe, I went on
shore to look about me, and see where I was.
I soon found I had but a little passed by the place where I had been
before, when I travelled on foot to that shore; so taking nothing out
of my boat but my gun and umbrella, for it was exceedingly hot, I began
my march. The way was comfortable enough after such a voyage as I had
been upon, and I reached my old bower in the evening, where I found
everything standing as I left it; for I always kept it in good order,
being, as I said before, my country house.
I got over the fence, and laid me down in the shade to rest my limbs,
for I was very weary, and fell asleep; but judge you, if you can, that
read my story, what a surprise I must be in when I was awaked out of my
sleep by a voice calling me by my name several times, “Robin, Robin,
Robin Crusoe: poor Robin Crusoe! Where are you, Robin Crusoe? Where are
you? Where have you been?”
I was so dead asleep at first, being fatigued with rowing, or paddling,
as it is called, the first part of the day, and with walking the latter
part, that I did not wake thoroughly; but dozing thought I dreamed that
somebody spoke to me; but as the voice continued to repeat, “Robin
Crusoe, Robin Crusoe,” at last I began to wake more perfectly, and was
at first dreadfully frightened, and started up in the utmost
consternation; but no sooner were my eyes open, but I saw my Poll
sitting on the top of the hedge; and immediately knew that it was he
that spoke to me; for just in such bemoaning language I had used to
talk to him and teach him; and he had learned it so perfectly that he
would sit upon my finger, and lay his bill close to my face and cry,
“Poor Robin Crusoe! Where are you? Where have you been? How came you
here?” and such things as I had taught him.
However, even though I knew it was the parrot, and that indeed it could
be nobody else, it was a good while before I could compose myself.
First, I was amazed how the creature got thither; and then, how he
should just keep about the place, and nowhere else; but as I was well
satisfied it could be nobody but honest Poll, I got over it; and
holding out my hand, and calling him by his name, “Poll,” the sociable
creature came to me, and sat upon my thumb, as he used to do, and
continued talking to me, “Poor Robin Crusoe! and how did I come here?
and where had I been?” just as if he had been overjoyed to see me
again; and so I carried him home along with me.
I had now had enough of rambling to sea for some time, and had enough
to do for many days to sit still and reflect upon the danger I had been
in. I would have been very glad to have had my boat again on my side of
the island; but I knew not how it was practicable to get it about. As
to the east side of the island, which I had gone round, I knew well
enough there was no venturing that way; my very heart would shrink, and
my very blood run chill, but to think of it; and as to the other side
of the island, I did not know how it might be there; but supposing the
current ran with the same force against the shore at the east as it
passed by it on the other, I might run the same risk of being driven
down the stream, and carried by the island, as I had been before of
being carried away from it: so with these thoughts, I contented myself
to be without any boat, though it had been the product of so many
months’ labour to make it, and of so many more to get it into the sea.
In this government of my temper I remained near a year; and lived a
very sedate, retired life, as you may well suppose; and my thoughts
being very much composed as to my condition, and fully comforted in
resigning myself to the dispositions of Providence, I thought I lived
really very happily in all things except that of society.
I improved myself in this time in all the mechanic exercises which my
necessities put me upon applying myself to; and I believe I should,
upon occasion, have made a very good carpenter, especially considering
how few tools I had.
Besides this, I arrived at an unexpected perfection in my earthenware,
and contrived well enough to make them with a wheel, which I found
infinitely easier and better; because I made things round and shaped,
which before were filthy things indeed to look on. But I think I was
never more vain of my own performance, or more joyful for anything I
found out, than for my being able to make a tobacco-pipe; and though it
was a very ugly, clumsy thing when it was done, and only burned red,
like other earthenware, yet as it was hard and firm, and would draw the
smoke, I was exceedingly comforted with it, for I had been always used
to smoke; and there were pipes in the ship, but I forgot them at first,
not thinking there was tobacco in the island; and afterwards, when I
searched the ship again, I could not come at any pipes.
In my wicker-ware also I improved much, and made abundance of necessary
baskets, as well as my invention showed me; though not very handsome,
yet they were such as were very handy and convenient for laying things
up in, or fetching things home. For example, if I killed a goat abroad,
I could hang it up in a tree, flay it, dress it, and cut it in pieces,
and bring it home in a basket; and the like by a turtle; I could cut it
up, take out the eggs and a piece or two of the flesh, which was enough
for me, and bring them home in a basket, and leave the rest behind me.
Also, large deep baskets were the receivers of my corn, which I always
rubbed out as soon as it was dry and cured, and kept it in great
baskets.
I began now to perceive my powder abated considerably; this was a want
which it was impossible for me to supply, and I began seriously to
consider what I must do when I should have no more powder; that is to
say, how I should kill any goats. I had, as is observed in the third
year of my being here, kept a young kid, and bred her up tame, and I
was in hopes of getting a he-goat; but I could not by any means bring
it to pass, till my kid grew an old goat; and as I could never find in
my heart to kill her, she died at last of mere age.
But being now in the eleventh year of my residence, and, as I have
said, my ammunition growing low, I set myself to study some art to trap
and snare the goats, to see whether I could not catch some of them
alive; and particularly I wanted a she-goat great with young. For this
purpose I made snares to hamper them; and I do believe they were more
than once taken in them; but my tackle was not good, for I had no wire,
and I always found them broken and my bait devoured. At length I
resolved to try a pitfall; so I dug several large pits in the earth, in
places where I had observed the goats used to feed, and over those pits
I placed hurdles of my own making too, with a great weight upon them;
and several times I put ears of barley and dry rice without setting the
trap; and I could easily perceive that the goats had gone in and eaten
up the corn, for I could see the marks of their feet. At length I set
three traps in one night, and going the next morning I found them, all
standing, and yet the bait eaten and gone; this was very discouraging.
However, I altered my traps; and not to trouble you with particulars,
going one morning to see my traps, I found in one of them a large old
he-goat; and in one of the others three kids, a male and two females.
As to the old one, I knew not what to do with him; he was so fierce I
durst not go into the pit to him; that is to say, to bring him away
alive, which was what I wanted. I could have killed him, but that was
not my business, nor would it answer my end; so I even let him out, and
he ran away as if he had been frightened out of his wits. But I did not
then know what I afterwards learned, that hunger will tame a lion. If I
had let him stay three or four days without food, and then have carried
him some water to drink and then a little corn, he would have been as
tame as one of the kids; for they are mighty sagacious, tractable
creatures, where they are well used.
However, for the present I let him go, knowing no better at that time:
then I went to the three kids, and taking them one by one, I tied them
with strings together, and with some difficulty brought them all home.
It was a good while before they would feed; but throwing them some
sweet corn, it tempted them, and they began to be tame. And now I found
that if I expected to supply myself with goats’ flesh, when I had no
powder or shot left, breeding some up tame was my only way, when,
perhaps, I might have them about my house like a flock of sheep. But
then it occurred to me that I must keep the tame from the wild, or else
they would always run wild when they grew up; and the only way for this
was to have some enclosed piece of ground, well fenced either with
hedge or pale, to keep them in so effectually, that those within might
not break out, or those without break in.