The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe
life in him.
I immediately cut the twisted flags or rushes which they had bound him
with, and would have helped him up; but he could not stand or speak,
but groaned most piteously, believing, it seems, still, that he was
only unbound in order to be killed. When Friday came to him I bade him
speak to him, and tell him of his deliverance; and pulling out my
bottle, made him give the poor wretch a dram, which, with the news of
his being delivered, revived him, and he sat up in the boat. But when
Friday came to hear him speak, and look in his face, it would have
moved any one to tears to have seen how Friday kissed him, embraced
him, hugged him, cried, laughed, hallooed, jumped about, danced, sang;
then cried again, wrung his hands, beat his own face and head; and then
sang and jumped about again like a distracted creature. It was a good
while before I could make him speak to me or tell me what was the
matter; but when he came a little to himself he told me that it was his
father.
It is not easy for me to express how it moved me to see what ecstasy
and filial affection had worked in this poor savage at the sight of his
father, and of his being delivered from death; nor indeed can I
describe half the extravagances of his affection after this: for he
went into the boat and out of the boat a great many times: when he went
in to him he would sit down by him, open his breast, and hold his
father’s head close to his bosom for many minutes together, to nourish
it; then he took his arms and ankles, which were numbed and stiff with
the binding, and chafed and rubbed them with his hands; and I,
perceiving what the case was, gave him some rum out of my bottle to rub
them with, which did them a great deal of good.
This affair put an end to our pursuit of the canoe with the other
savages, who were now almost out of sight; and it was happy for us that
we did not, for it blew so hard within two hours after, and before they
could be got a quarter of their way, and continued blowing so hard all
night, and that from the north-west, which was against them, that I
could not suppose their boat could live, or that they ever reached
their own coast.
But to return to Friday; he was so busy about his father that I could
not find in my heart to take him off for some time; but after I thought
he could leave him a little, I called him to me, and he came jumping
and laughing, and pleased to the highest extreme: then I asked him if
he had given his father any bread. He shook his head, and said, “None;
ugly dog eat all up self.” I then gave him a cake of bread out of a
little pouch I carried on purpose; I also gave him a dram for himself;
but he would not taste it, but carried it to his father. I had in my
pocket two or three bunches of raisins, so I gave him a handful of them
for his father. He had no sooner given his father these raisins but I
saw him come out of the boat, and run away as if he had been bewitched,
for he was the swiftest fellow on his feet that ever I saw: I say, he
ran at such a rate that he was out of sight, as it were, in an instant;
and though I called, and hallooed out too after him, it was all
one—away he went; and in a quarter of an hour I saw him come back
again, though not so fast as he went; and as he came nearer I found his
pace slacker, because he had something in his hand. When he came up to
me I found he had been quite home for an earthen jug or pot, to bring
his father some fresh water, and that he had got two more cakes or
loaves of bread: the bread he gave me, but the water he carried to his
father; however, as I was very thirsty too, I took a little of it. The
water revived his father more than all the rum or spirits I had given
him, for he was fainting with thirst.
When his father had drunk, I called to him to know if there was any
water left. He said, “Yes”; and I bade him give it to the poor
Spaniard, who was in as much want of it as his father; and I sent one
of the cakes that Friday brought to the Spaniard too, who was indeed
very weak, and was reposing himself upon a green place under the shade
of a tree; and whose limbs were also very stiff, and very much swelled
with the rude bandage he had been tied with. When I saw that upon
Friday’s coming to him with the water he sat up and drank, and took the
bread and began to eat, I went to him and gave him a handful of
raisins. He looked up in my face with all the tokens of gratitude and
thankfulness that could appear in any countenance; but was so weak,
notwithstanding he had so exerted himself in the fight, that he could
not stand up upon his feet—he tried to do it two or three times, but
was really not able, his ankles were so swelled and so painful to him;
so I bade him sit still, and caused Friday to rub his ankles, and bathe
them with rum, as he had done his father’s.
I observed the poor affectionate creature, every two minutes, or
perhaps less, all the while he was here, turn his head about to see if
his father was in the same place and posture as he left him sitting;
and at last he found he was not to be seen; at which he started up,
and, without speaking a word, flew with that swiftness to him that one
could scarce perceive his feet to touch the ground as he went; but when
he came, he only found he had laid himself down to ease his limbs, so
Friday came back to me presently; and then I spoke to the Spaniard to
let Friday help him up if he could, and lead him to the boat, and then
he should carry him to our dwelling, where I would take care of him.
But Friday, a lusty, strong fellow, took the Spaniard upon his back,
and carried him away to the boat, and set him down softly upon the side
or gunnel of the canoe, with his feet in the inside of it; and then
lifting him quite in, he set him close to his father; and presently
stepping out again, launched the boat off, and paddled it along the
shore faster than I could walk, though the wind blew pretty hard too;
so he brought them both safe into our creek, and leaving them in the
boat, ran away to fetch the other canoe. As he passed me I spoke to
him, and asked him whither he went. He told me, “Go fetch more boat;”
so away he went like the wind, for sure never man or horse ran like
him; and he had the other canoe in the creek almost as soon as I got to
it by land; so he wafted me over, and then went to help our new guests
out of the boat, which he did; but they were neither of them able to
walk; so that poor Friday knew not what to do.
To remedy this, I went to work in my thought, and calling to Friday to
bid them sit down on the bank while he came to me, I soon made a kind
of hand-barrow to lay them on, and Friday and I carried them both up
together upon it between us.
But when we got them to the outside of our wall, or fortification, we
were at a worse loss than before, for it was impossible to get them
over, and I was resolved not to break it down; so I set to work again,
and Friday and I, in about two hours’ time, made a very handsome tent,
covered with old sails, and above that with boughs of trees, being in
the space without our outward fence and between that and the grove of
young wood which I had planted; and here we made them two beds of such
things as I had—viz. of good rice-straw, with blankets laid upon it to
lie on, and another to cover them, on each bed.
My island was now peopled, and I thought myself very rich in subjects;
and it was a merry reflection, which I frequently made, how like a king
I looked. First of all, the whole country was my own property, so that
I had an undoubted right of dominion. Secondly, my people were
perfectly subjected—I was absolutely lord and lawgiver—they all owed
their lives to me, and were ready to lay down their lives, if there had
been occasion for it, for me. It was remarkable, too, I had but three
subjects, and they were of three different religions—my man Friday was
a Protestant, his father was a Pagan and a cannibal, and the Spaniard
was a Papist. However, I allowed liberty of conscience throughout my
dominions. But this is by the way.
As soon as I had secured my two weak, rescued prisoners, and given them
shelter, and a place to rest them upon, I began to think of making some
provision for them; and the first thing I did, I ordered Friday to take
a yearling goat, betwixt a kid and a goat, out of my particular flock,
to be killed; when I cut off the hinder-quarter, and chopping it into
small pieces, I set Friday to work to boiling and stewing, and made
them a very good dish, I assure you, of flesh and broth; and as I
cooked it without doors, for I made no fire within my inner wall, so I
carried it all into the new tent, and having set a table there for
them, I sat down, and ate my own dinner also with them, and, as well as
I could, cheered them and encouraged them. Friday was my interpreter,
especially to his father, and, indeed, to the Spaniard too; for the
Spaniard spoke the language of the savages pretty well.
After we had dined, or rather supped, I ordered Friday to take one of
the canoes, and go and fetch our muskets and other firearms, which, for
want of time, we had left upon the place of battle; and the next day I
ordered him to go and bury the dead bodies of the savages, which lay
open to the sun, and would presently be offensive. I also ordered him
to bury the horrid remains of their barbarous feast, which I could not
think of doing myself; nay, I could not bear to see them if I went that
way; all which he punctually performed, and effaced the very appearance
of the savages being there; so that when I went again, I could scarce
know where it was, otherwise than by the corner of the wood pointing to
the place.
I then began to enter into a little conversation with my two new
subjects; and, first, I set Friday to inquire of his father what he
thought of the escape of the savages in that canoe, and whether we
might expect a return of them, with a power too great for us to resist.
His first opinion was, that the savages in the boat never could live
out the storm which blew that night they went off, but must of
necessity be drowned, or driven south to those other shores, where they
were as sure to be devoured as they were to be drowned if they were
cast away; but, as to what they would do if they came safe on shore, he
said he knew not; but it was his opinion that they were so dreadfully
frightened with the manner of their being attacked, the noise, and the
fire, that he believed they would tell the people they were all killed
by thunder and lightning, not by the hand of man; and that the two
which appeared—viz. Friday and I—were two heavenly spirits, or furies,
come down to destroy them, and not men with weapons. This, he said, he
knew; because he heard them all cry out so, in their language, one to
another; for it was impossible for them to conceive that a man could
dart fire, and speak thunder, and kill at a distance, without lifting
up the hand, as was done now: and this old savage was in the right;
for, as I understood since, by other hands, the savages never attempted
to go over to the island afterwards, they were so terrified with the
accounts given by those four men (for it seems they did escape the
sea), that they believed whoever went to that enchanted island would be
destroyed with fire from the gods. This, however, I knew not; and
therefore was under continual apprehensions for a good while, and kept
always upon my guard, with all my army: for, as there were now four of
us, I would have ventured upon a hundred of them, fairly in the open
field, at any time.
CHAPTER XVII. VISIT OF MUTINEERS
In a little time, however, no more canoes appearing, the fear of their
coming wore off; and I began to take my former thoughts of a voyage to