XVI.

A Sign for the outer World.--A Shelter for the Outcast's Head.--Tom's

Camp and Camp-bed.--A Search after Something to vary a too monotonous

Diet.--Brilliant Success.

Tom sat down after his eventful day, and took his evening meal, as has

been said. He rested then for some time. His excessive labors had

fatigued him less than the great excitement which he had undergone, and

now he felt disinclined to exert himself. But the sun had set, and

darkness was coming on rapidly; so he rose, at last, and went over to

the drift-wood. Here, after a search of about half an hour, he found

something which was very well suited to his purpose. It was a piece of

scantling about twenty feet long, and not very thick; and to this he

saw that he could fasten the pole that he had made up in the woods.

These two pieces would make, when joined, a very good flag-staff.

These he brought up to the bank. Then he collected an armful of dry

chips and sticks, which he carried over to a spot near where the boat

lay. A rock was there, and against one side of this he built a pile of

the chips. He then tried a match, and found that it was quite dry, and

lighted it without any difficulty. With this he kindled the fire, and

soon saw, with great satisfaction, a bright and cheerful blaze.

He was so delighted with the fire that he brought up a dozen more loads

of wood, which he laid near. Then he drew up the bit of scantling, and

bringing the coil of rope, he cut a piece off, and proceeded to fasten

to the scantling the pole which he had procured in the woods. He did

this by winding the rope around in a close and even wind; and, finally,

on concluding his task, he found that it was bound firmly enough to

stand any breeze. It took a long time to finish this; but Tom had

slept late in the morning, and, though fatigued, he was not sleepy.

After this he sat down in front of the fire, and enjoyed its friendly

light and its genial glow. He kept heaping on the fuel, and the bright

flames danced up, giving to him the first approach to anything like the

feeling of comfort that he had known since he had drifted away from the

Antelope. Nor was it comfort only that he was mindful of while he

watched and fed the fire. He saw in this fire, as it shone out over

the water, the best kind of a signal, and had some hope of being seen

and hailed by some passing vessel. In this hope he sat up till

midnight, looking out from time to time over the water, and expecting

every instant to see the shadow of some approaching vessel.

But midnight came, and Tom at length thought of sleep. The sail had

dried thoroughly through the day; so now he used it once more as a

coverlet, and, folding himself in it, he reclined, as before, against

the mossy bank, and slept.

On awaking the next day, he arose and looked around. To his deep

disappointment, he could see nothing. There was a fog over all the

scene. The wind had changed, and his old enemy was once more besieging

him. It was not so thick, indeed, as it had been, being light and dry,

so that the ground was not at all moistened; but still the view was

obscured, so that no vessel could be seen unless it came within half a

mile; and that was rather closer than most vessels would care to come

to his island.

This day was Sunday, and all Tom's plans had to be deferred until the

following day. However, it was not at all disagreeable to him to get

rid of the necessity of work; and, indeed, never before did he fully

appreciate the nature of the Day of Rest. The rest was sweet indeed to

his exhausted and overworn frame, and he did not go far away from his

fire. He had found some embers still glowing in the morning, and had

kindled the fire anew from these, without drawing any more upon his

precious store of matches. He resolved now to keep the coals alive all

the time, by feeding the fire during the day, and covering it up with

ashes by night.

It was Sunday,--the Day of Rest,--and Tom felt all the blessedness of

rest. On the whole, it turned out to be the pleasantest day which he

had known since he left the schooner. Left now to quiet reflection, he

recalled the events of the last week, and had more leisure to feel

thankful over the wonderful safety which he had met with. Even now on

the island he was not without his comforts. He had food and warmth.

So, on the whole, though he had his moments of sadness, yet the sadness

was driven out by cheerfulness. It was not all dismal. The words of

that poem which is familiar to every school-boy rang in his ears:--

"O, Solitude, where are the charms

That sages have seen in thy face?

Better dwell in the midst of alarms

Than reign in this horrible place."

Yet these words were accompanied and counterbalanced by the more

pleasing and consoling sentiments of others, which on this day accorded

better with Tom's mood:--

"There's mercy in every place;

And mercy--encouraging thought!--

Gives even affliction a grace,

And reconciles man to his lot."

Nothing occurred during the day to disturb the quiet of the island, and

Tom went to bed early that night, so as to have a long sleep, and

fortify himself for the labors of the morrow. The ashes were raked

carefully round the coals, which, when Tom waked in the morning, were

easily kindled again.

He was up early on that Monday morning. He saw, with deep

disappointment, that the fog still covered every thing, and that the

wind was blowing quite brisk from the south-west, and raising rather a

heavy sea. But he had a great deal to do now, and to this he turned

his attention.

First of all, he had to finish his signal-staff and set it up. He was

very much troubled about the proper material for a flag. The canvas

was rather too heavy; but as he had nothing else, he had to take this.

He fastened a bit of the rope to the head of the staff, so as to form a

loop, and through this he ran a piece which was long enough to serve

for halyards. Thus far he had not used up more than a quarter of the

coil of rope; but he needed all that was left for other purposes. The

next thing was to set up his staff. To do this required much labor. He

had already selected the place which seemed most suitable. It was at

the extreme point of a tongue of land which projected beside the brook,

and only a little distance from his resting-place. Here the ground was

soft; and choosing a sharp stone, he worked diligently for about a

couple of hours, until at length he succeeded in digging a hole which

was about eighteen inches in depth. Then he fastened ropes to the

staff, where the pole joined it, so that four lines came down far

enough to serve as stays. Having done this, he inserted the end of the

staff in the hole, and thrust in the earth all around it, trampling it

in, and beating it down as tight as he could with a stone. After this

he procured some sticks from the drift-wood, and, sharpening the ends,

he secured the stays by fastening them to these sticks, which he drove

into the ground. The staff then seemed to be as secure as was

necessary. It only remained now to hoist up his flag; and this he did

without any difficulty, securing it at half mast, so that it might

serve unmistakably as a signal of distress.

Upon completing this, Tom rested on the mound, and from that distance

he contemplated the signal with a great deal of calm and quiet

satisfaction. It was his own device, and his own handiwork, and he was

very proud of it. But he did not allow himself a long rest. There yet

remained much to be done, and to this he now directed his attention.

He had been thinking, during his last employment, upon the necessity

which he had of some shelter. A plan had suggested itself which he

felt confident that he could carry into execution without any very

great trouble. The fog that now prevailed, and which was far different

from the light mist of the previous day, accompanied also, as it was,

by the damp south-west wind, made some sort of a shelter imperatively

necessary, and that, too, before another night. To pass this night in

the fog would be bad enough; but if it should happen to rain also, his

situation would be miserable indeed.

He now set out for the beach, and found, without much difficulty, some

pieces of wood which were necessary to his purpose. Bringing these

back, he next looked about for a good situation. There was a rock not

far from the fire, and in front of this was a smooth spot, where the

land was flat, and covered with short grass. On the left it sloped to

the brook. This seemed to him to be the best place on the island. It

was sufficiently sheltered. It was dry, and in case of rain the water

would not be likely to flood it. With all these it also possessed the

advantage of being sufficiently conspicuous to any passing vessel which

might be attracted by the signal-staff. Here, then, Tom determined to

erect his place of residence.

His first work was to select two long and slender pieces of wood, and

sharpen the ends of them. Then he drove each of them into the ground

in such a way that their tops crossed one another. These he bound fast

together. Two other stakes were driven into the ground, and secured in

the same way, about six or seven feet off. Another long piece of

scantling was then placed so as to pass from one to the other of the

two crossed sticks, so that it rested upon them. This last was bound

tight to the crossed sticks, and thus the whole structure formed a

camp-shaped frame.

Over this Tom now threw the sail, and brought it down to the ground on

either side, securing it there with pegs. At the back of the camp a

piece of the sail was folded over and secured so as to cover it in;

while in front another piece of the sail hung down until it nearly

reached the ground. This could hang down at night, and be folded over

the top by day. Tom now tore up some sods, and laid them over the edge

of the canvas on each side, where it touched the ground, and placed on

these heavy stones, until at length it seemed sufficiently protected

from the entrance of any rain that might flow down the roof. His last

task consisted in collecting a large quantity of moss and ferns from

the woods, which he strewed over the ground inside, and heaped up at

one end, so as to form a soft and fragrant bed. When this was

accomplished the camp was finished.

It had taken a long time, and when at last the work was done, it began

to grow dark. Tom noticed this with surprise. He had been working so

incessantly that he was not mindful of the flight of time, and now the

day was done, and the evening was upon him before he was aware. But

there were other things still for him to do before he could rest from

his labors. His fire was just flickering around its last embers, and

if he wished to have a pleasant light to cheer the solitude and the

darkness of his evening hours, it would be necessary to prepare a

supply of fuel. To this he attended at once, and brought up several

armfuls of drift-wood from the beach. Placing these near the fire, he

kindled it up afresh, and flung upon the rising flames a generous

supply of fuel. The fires caught at it, and crackled as they spread

through the dry wood, and tossed up their forked tongues on high, till

in the dusk of evening they illuminated the surrounding scene with a

pleasant light. A few more armfuls were added, and then the work for

the day was over. That work had been very extensive and very

important. It had secured a means of communication with the outer

world, and had also formed a shelter from the chill night air, the fog,

and the storm. It was with a very natural pride that Tom cast his eyes

around, and surveyed the results of his ingenuity and his industry.

The camp opened towards the fire, from which it was not so far distant

but that Tom could attend to it without any very great inconvenience.

The fire shone pleasantly before him as he sat down at his evening

repast. As the darkness increased, it threw a ruddier glow upon all

the scene around, lighting up field and hill, and sending long streams

of radiance into the fog that overhung the sea. Tom had prepared an

unusually large supply of fuel, this evening, for the express purpose

of burning it all up; partly for his own amusement, and partly in the

hope that it might meet the eyes of some passing navigator. It was his

only hope. To keep his signals going by night and day was the surest

plan of effecting a speedy escape. Who could tell what might be out on

the neighboring sea? How did he know but that the Antelope might be

somewhere near at hand, with his companions on board, cruising

anxiously about in search after the missing boat? He never ceased to

think that they were following after him somewhere, and to believe

that, in the course of their wanderings, they might come somewhere

within sight of him. He knew that they would never give him up till

they assuredly knew his fate, but would follow after him, and set other

vessels on the search, till the whole bay, with all its shores and

islands, should be thoroughly ransacked.

Fortunate was it for him, he thought, that there was so large a supply

of drift-wood at hand on the beach, dry, portable, and in every way

convenient for use. Thanks to this, he might now disperse the gloom of

dark and foggy nights, and keep up a better signal in the dark than he

could do in the light. Thus the fuel was heaped on, and the fire

flamed up, and Tom sat near, looking complacently upon the brilliant

glow.

Thus far, for nearly a week, he had fed on biscuit only; but now, as he

ate his repast, he began to think that it was a very monotonous fare,

and to wonder whether it might not be possible to find something which

could give a zest to his repasts. The biscuit were holding out well,

but still he felt a desire to husband his resources, and if any

additional food could in any way be procured, it would not only be a

relish, but would also lessen his demand upon his one sole source of

supply. He thought earnestly upon the subject of fish. He turned his

thoughts very seriously to the subject of fish-hooks, and tried to

think of some way by which he could capture some of the fish with which

these waters abounded. But this idea did not seem to promise much. In

the first place, he could think of no possible way in which he could

procure any serviceable hook; in the second place, even if he had a

hook and line all ready and baited, he did not see how he would be able

to cast it within reach of any fish. His boat would not float him even

for the little distance that was required to get into the places where

fish might be. He could only stand upon the beach out of their reach.

But, in the course of his thoughts, he soon perceived that other

sources of food were possible to him besides the fish that were caught

by hook and line. His mind reverted to the populous realm of

shell-fish. These were all before him. Round the rocks and amid the

sea-weed there certainly must be mussels. At low tide, amid the ledges

and the sand, there surely must be some lobsters. Before him there was

an extensive mud flat, where there ought to be clams. Here was his

fire, always ready, by night and by day. Why should he not be able to

make use of that fire, not only for cheering his mind, and giving him

warmth, and signaling to passers-by, but also for cooking his meals?

This was the question that he asked himself as he ate his biscuit. He

could not see why he should not be able to accomplish this. As far as

he could see, there ought to be plenty of shell-fish of various kinds

on these shores. The more he thought of it, the more probable it

seemed. He determined to solve the difficulty as soon as possible. On

former occasions he had arranged his work on the evening for the

succeeding day. On this evening he marked out this work for the

morrow, and arranged in his mind a comprehensive and most diligent

search for shell-fish, which should embrace the whole circuit of the

island.

With this in his mind, he arranged the fire as usual, so as to keep it

alive, and then retired to his camp for the night. The presence of a

roof over his head was grateful in the extreme. He let down the canvas

folds over the entrance, and felt a peculiar sense of security and

comfort. The moss and ferns which he had heaped up were luxuriously

soft and deliciously fragrant. Over these he stretched his wearied

limbs with a sigh of relief, and soon was asleep.

So comfortable was his bed, and so secure his shelter, that he slept

longer than usual. It was late when he awaked. He hurried forth and

looked around. The fog still rested over everything. If possible it

was thicker and more dismal than even on the preceding day. To his

surprise, he soon noticed that it had been raining quite heavily

through the night. Around, in many places, he saw pools of water, and

in the hollows of the rocks he saw the same. This could only have been

done by the rain. Going back to his camp, he saw that the canvas was

quite wet. And yet the rain had all rolled off. Not a drop had

entered. The moss and the fern inside were perfectly dry, and he had

not the slightest feeling of dampness about him. His camp was a

complete success.

He now went off to search for clams. The tide had been high at about

six in the morning. It was now, as he judged, about ten or eleven, and

the water was quite low. Selecting a piece of shingle from his

wood-pile, he walked down over the mud flat that extended from the

point, and, after going a little distance, he noticed the holes that

give indications of the presence of clams beneath. Turning up the sand,

he soon threw out some of them. He now dug in several different

places, and obtained sufficient for the day. These he carried back to

the bank in triumph. Then he stirred up his fire, heaped on plenty of

wood, and arranged his clams in front so as to roast them.

In spite of Mrs. Pratt's theories, the clams were found by Tom to be

delicious, and gave such relish to the biscuit, that he began to think

whether he could not make use of the baling dipper, and make a clam

chowder.

This breakfast was a great success, and Tom now confidently expected to

find other shell-fish, by means of which his resources might be

enlarged and improved.