Humphry sat down on his chest, feeling very forlorn. Here he was on a
desert island, a mere speck in the ocean, hundreds of miles away perhaps
from any place inhabited by civilised man. He might perhaps never be
able to make his escape, or again hold intercourse with his
fellow-creatures. All alone, without speaking, without exchanging an
idea with another human being, he might have to drag out a weary
existence; and then, should sickness overtake him, have to lie down and
breathe out his life, leaving his bones to whiten in the sun.
He had read Robinson Crusoe, but then his case was very different to
that of the far-famed voyager. Robinson Crusoe had the companionship of
Friday, and his island was fertile and smiling, and he had goats and
fowls and other animals to cheer him or to serve him as food. He would
have to go in search of fish and birds for his daily food, and as yet
was uncertain whether any were to be found, though at present he did not
fear starvation, as he had the salted beef and pork and biscuits with
which Ned had supplied him. But then when they were gone, how should he
live?
"It won't do to indulge in these thoughts," he exclaimed to himself,
suddenly starting up. "I must think about building a house in the first
place; and then as soon as I can prepare the ground I will put in the
seed, and, as I hope, some may produce good edible vegetables, I shall
have a variety in diet and keep myself in health."
As he began to examine the articles which had been brought on shore, he
found a large roll of canvas. It was part of an old sail.
"This Ned must have intended to serve as a tent till I can put up a more
substantial building. I am much obliged to him, and I need not be in
any great hurry about building my house."
He spoke his thoughts aloud on nearly all occasions. It gave him some
relief to hear his own voice.
"I must get some poles for the tent, though; and no spars, I see, have
been brought on shore."
He looked out an axe, and sticking it in his belt, set out to search for
what he wanted.
"I shall not lose my way in this new kingdom of mine, that's one
advantage in having it of moderate size; and if I climb to the top of
the hill, I shall be able to sing with Robinson Crusoe, `I am lord of
all I survey,'--ah, ah, ah!" and he laughed for the first time for many
a day.
There was nothing to excite his risibility on board. He felt his
spirits rising.
"Stay!" he exclaimed suddenly. "What an ungrateful wretch I am! Here
have I been saved from a great danger, and placed in safety, at all
events for the present, and yet I have not uttered one word of thanks to
Him who has preserved me."
He knelt down, and lifted up his heart as well as he could to God.
"Careless, worthless fellow that I have been! yet God promises to hear
all those that come to Him, not trusting to themselves or to their own
good deeds, but to the perfect and complete atonement Jesus Christ made
for their sins on the cross, so I know that He will hear me; and I am
sure, though I am unworthy of His care, that He put it into the hearts
of those men to bring me on shore instead of throwing me overboard, or
what would have been worse, keeping me among them."
He felt his heart much lighter when he rose from his knees.
He then, carefully observing the appearance of the rocks, that he might
find his way back without difficulty, proceeded on his expedition.
Clambering over them, he came to more level ground covered with various
bushes, and soon reached a hill-side on which grew a number of trees,
palms and others, with the names of which he was unacquainted. He
looked in vain for cocoa-nuts, not being aware that the trees are only
generally found on the level shore to which the nuts have been borne by
the wind and tides of the ocean from other islands. He cut two stout
poles for uprights, and a longer one for a ridge-pole, and shouldering
them, returned to his camp.
"I shall want a fire, though," he thought, as he got back, and throwing
them down he again set out to get fuel.
This he had no difficulty in finding among the brushwood, and with the
aid of his axe he quickly made up a number of faggots.
"I shall not be obliged to have a fire burning all night to keep off
wild beasts, that is another comfort," he observed. "But it will be
cheerful to sit by when it grows dark. I shall not find the time hang
heavily on my hands for some days to come, that's another comfort."
His first thought was to do the most necessary work. Having brought the
faggots to his camp, he next put up his tent.
This accomplished, as soon as he sat down to rest he began to feel
hungry. He rummaged in a small cask, which contained a number of
miscellaneous articles, and discovered a tinder-box. He had soon a fire
blazing in front of his tent. He had prudently made it up at a
sufficient distance to prevent the risk of the flames reaching the
canvas. While he stayed his hunger with some biscuit, he prepared a
piece of beef, which he spitted and placed before the fire on two small
sticks, such as he had read of people doing under similar circumstances.
He turned the meat on the spit, which grew blacker and blacker.
"I think it must be done now," he said at length, taking it off.
When he cut it with his knife, he found it almost as hard as wood. He
attempted to eat a few mouthfuls, but he could scarcely get them down.
"This won't do," he said. "I must get some water, to enable me to
swallow this dry food."
On searching for something to hold the water, he found a saucepan, and
on his way with it to the cascade it occurred to him that he might have
cooked his beef much better by boiling. "I must try that way for
dinner," he thought.
A draught of pure water greatly refreshed him. He returned to the camp
with his saucepan filled. He put it on at once with a small piece of
meat in it, recollecting that salted beef requires a long time to boil,
and he hoped to have better success in his second attempt at cooking.
He now made a survey of the articles his shipmates had left with him.
There was enough beef and pork to serve him for many months, but he
regretted to find that the bread would not last him nearly so long.
"I must try and find some substitute for it," he said, "and economise it
in the meantime. I would rather have had much more bread and less meat,
as I hope to catch some fish and kill some birds. However, I need not
go hunting till I have put my home to rights."
Then he thought of his seeds. He had no spade, however, to dig the
ground; so going to the wood he shaped one, which he hoped would answer
the purpose, out of the stem of a small tree. It did better than
nothing, but he would have been very glad of an iron spade. He at once
began to dig up the ground. It was covered thickly with grass with long
roots, but the soil was rather sand than earth. "I must dig all this
up," he said, "or they will soon sprout up again, and destroy the seed."
So he marked out a small plot, carefully throwing the roots and grass
into a heap. It then struck him that if they were scattered about on
the ground in the sun they would more quickly dry, and he might then
burn them, and the ashes would contribute to fertilise the ground.
He worked away till he felt quite weary. He then went back to his fire
to see how the beef was boiling. As it was not yet done, after resting
a short time he returned to his digging. It was a very long operation,
but after labouring for four or five hours he found that he had dug up
almost ten square yards of ground. "It is thoroughly done, though there
is not much of it, and that's a satisfaction," he said. He thought,
however, even when the ashes of the grass were mixed with it, it would
scarcely be sufficiently fertile for the seeds. "I will go into the
woods and collect rotten leaves, and with the ashes of my fire I hope in
time to make the soil good." This was a wise thought, but the sun was
already getting low, and he determined to wait till the next day to do
so. "It will be better to have a small piece of good ground than to dig
up the whole plot, and I will only put in a few seeds at first, to see
how they answer; so that if some fail, I may try a different way of
cultivating them. I shall, at all events, have work enough. How sad it
would have been if I had had nothing to do but to sit still and bemoan
my hard fate. I may not, after all, find my life so miserable alone as
I had expected, that's another comfort."
With these reflections he went back to his fire, and now, to his
satisfaction, he found that his beef was thoroughly boiled. Ned had
forgotten to put in any salt or mustard, but as the beef was salt in
itself, that did not signify. It reminded him, however, that if he shot
any birds or caught fish, he should require some. That made him resolve
to try and look for it amongst the rocks, or to try and manufacture it
from salt water, as he had read of being done. He had been accustomed
to read a good many books of travels before he came to sea, and he now
found the advantage of having done so, by being reminded of the various
ways people, when placed in situations similar to his, had been enabled
to support existence. This contributed to keep up his spirits, as it
made him have no doubts of obtaining food. His only dread was that he
might meet with an accident, or might fall ill, when there would be no
one to help him.
"Well, well, I ought not to trouble myself about that either," he said.
"I must pray to God to preserve me, and do my best not to run any
unnecessary risk."
He then recollected the dreadful complaint, the scurvy, which had
already attacked some of the crew of the _Wolf_.
"That is brought on by people living too exclusively on salt provisions.
I must try to find some roots or herbs till the seeds come up: and
then, if they produce vegetables, as I hope they will, I need not be
anxious about that."
Such were his cogitations during his meal. Having finished, he hung up
the remainder of his beef in his tent, to serve as breakfast for the
next morning, and then went back to the fountain to enjoy a draught of
pure water.
He felt but little inclined to do any more work, and the sun had not set
when he recollected that he had not yet read from his Testament. He
took it from the pocket of his jacket, which hung up in his tent, and
sat down to read. He read on for some time, feeling his spirits greatly
refreshed, till, by the increasing darkness, he found that the sun had
gone down, and that it was time to prepare for rest. Ned had thrown a
bed into the boat and a blanket.
"Few people left on a desert island as I am have enjoyed so luxurious a
couch as this is," thought Humphry, as he laid himself down after
offering up his prayers, as he had been accustomed to do before he came
to sea. Since then, shame, and the indifference which arises from it,
had prevented him ever kneeling in prayer. He now, left all alone as he
was, felt that prayer was his greatest comfort; though he had no
fellow-creature to talk to, he had the privilege of speaking to his
Maker. He had not been reading his Testament without gaining
enlightenment. He had learned that he must come to God in His appointed
way--through Jesus Christ; that he had no right to approach Him in any
other way.
He had scarcely placed his head on the bundle of clothes which he had
rolled up to make a pillow, and drawn his blanket round him, than he
fell fast asleep.