stone. With it he picked up the hard earth, but had to bend almost
double in using it. "At home," he thought, "they have handles to picks."
The handle was put through a hole in the iron. He turned the matter
over and over in his mind, how he might put a hole through the stone.
But he found no means. He searched out a branch with a crotch at one
end. He tied the stone to this with strong cocoa fiber and bark. How his
eye glistened as he looked at the new tool! Now he began to work. He
first loosened up the earth with his pick, then he dug it out with his
spade and planted in a high thistle. Many days he had to work, but
finally one evening the hedge was ready. He had a row in a semi-circle
in front of his cave. He counted the marks on his calendar tree. The day
on which he had begun to make his hedge he had especially marked out.
He had worked fourteen days.
[Illustration: ROBINSON'S TOOLS]
He had completed his hedge with the exception of a small hole that must
serve for a door. But the door must not be seen from without.
As Robinson thought, it came to him that there was still place for two
thistles on the outside. He could easily get in, but the entrance was
difficult to find from the outside.
Robinson looked on his hedge from without. It was not yet thick enough.
For this reason he planted small thistles between the larger ones. With
the digging them out and transplanting them he was a whole week longer.
Finally, the hedge and the yard were ready. Now Robinson could rest
without fear and sleep in his cave, and could have his goat near him all
the time. It delighted him greatly. It ran after him continually like a
dog. When he came back from an absence, it bleated for joy and ran to
meet him as soon as he got inside the hedge. Robinson felt that he was
not entirely alone. He had now a living being near him.
XX
ROBINSON GETS READY FOR WINTER
There was one thing that troubled Robinson greatly. "What will become of
me when the winter comes? I will have no fire to warm me. I have no
clothing to protect me from the cold, and where shall I find food when
snow and ice cover all the ground and when the trees are bare and the
spring is frozen? It will be cold then in my cave; what shall I do? It
is cold and rainy already. I believe this is harvest time and winter
will soon be here. Winter and no stove, no winter clothing, no winter
store of food and no winter dwelling. What shall I do?"
He considered again the project of making fire. He again sought out two
pieces of wood and sat down and rubbed them together. The sweat rolled
down his face. When the wood began to get warm, his hand would become
tired, and he would have to stop. When he began again the wood was cold.
He worked for an hour or two, then he laid the wood aside and said, "I
don't believe I can do it. I must do the next best thing. I can at least
get warm clothing to protect me from the rain and snow." He looked down
at his worn, thin clothing, his trousers, his shirt, his jacket; they
had become so thin and worn that they were threadbare.
"I will take the skins of the hares which I have shot and will make me
something," he thought. He washed and cleaned them, but he needed a
knife and he set about making one. He split one end of a tough piece of
wood, thrust his stone blade in it and wound it with cocoa fibre. His
stone knife now had a handle. He could now cut the skins quite well. But
what should he do for needle and thread? Maybe the vines would do. "But
they are hardly strong enough," he thought. He pulled the sinews from
the bones of the rabbit and found them hard. Maybe he could use them. He
found fish skeletons on the seashore and bored a hole in the end of the
small, sharp rib bones. Then he threaded his bone needle with the rabbit
sinews and attempted to sew, but it would not go. His needle broke. The
skin was too hard. He bored holes in the edge of the pieces of skin and
sewed through the holes. This went very well.
He sewed the skins together with the hair side inward, made himself a
jacket, a pair of trousers, a hat, and finally covered his parasol with
rabbit skin, for the rain had already dripped through the leaves of it.
All went well, only the trousers did not fit. He loosened them and
puckered them to no purpose. "Anyway," he thought, "I am now well
protected from the cold, when it does come."
[Illustration: ROBINSON IN HIS NEW SUIT]
XXI
HOW ROBINSON LAYS UP A STORE OF FOOD
Now for the food. Could Robinson preserve the meat? He had often heard
his mother tell about preserving meat in salt. He had even eaten salt
meat, pickled meat. But where could he get salt?
One day when the wind blew hard the water was driven upon the shore and
filled a little hollow. After a few days the ground glistened white as
snow where the water had been. Was it snow? Robinson took it in his
hands and put it in his mouth. It was salt. The sun had evaporated the
water in the hollow--had vaporized it--and the air had drunk it up. What
was left behind? Salt. Now he could get salt as long as he needed it.
He took cocoanut shells and strewed salt in them. Then he cut the rabbit
meat in thin strips, rubbed them with salt, and laid them one on the
other in the salt in the shells. He covered it over with a layer of
salt. He put over each shell the half of a larger one and weighted it
down with stones. After a period of fourteen days he found the meat
quite red. It had pickled.
But he did not stop here. He gathered and stored in his cellar cocoanuts
and corn in such quantities that he would be supplied for a whole
winter. It seemed best to catch a number of rabbits, build a house for
them and keep them. Then he could kill one occasionally and have fresh
meat. Then it came to him that goats would be much better, for they
would give milk. He determined immediately to have a herd of goats. He
made a string or lasso out of cocoa fibre.
Then he went out, slipped up quietly to a herd of goats and threw the
lasso over one. But the lasso slipped from the horns and the goat ran
away. The next day he had better luck. He threw the lasso, drew it tight
and the goat was captured. He brought it home. He rejoiced when he saw
that it gave milk. He was happy when he got his first cocoanut shell
full of sweet rich milk. His goat herd grew. He soon had five goats. He
had no more room in his yard. He could not provide food enough. He must
let them out. He must make another hedge around his yard so that the
goats could get food and yet be kept from going away. He got stakes
from the woods and gathered them before his cave. He sharpened them and
began to drive them in the earth. But it rained more and more each day.
He was wet through as he worked. He had finally to stop work, for the
rain was too heavy.
XXII
ROBINSON'S DIARY
Robinson was much disturbed because he had no means of keeping a record
of things as they happened from day to day. He had his calendar, it is
true. He would not lose track of the time. But he wished for some way to
write down his thoughts and what happened. So he kept up keen search for
anything that would serve him for this purpose.
Every time he journeyed about the island he kept careful watch for
something that he might write upon. He thought of the leaves of the palm
tree, the white under surface of the shelf fungus. But these he found
would not do. He tried many kinds of bark and leaves. There was a kind
of tall reed or grass growing in the marshes whose rind seemed good when
dried. He examined the inner bark of many trees. He at last found that
the inner bark of a tree which resembled our elm tree worked best. He
would cut through the bark with his stone knife around the tree. At
about one foot from this he would cut another ring. He then would cut
through the bark lengthwise from one circular cut to the other. He could
then peel off the section easily. While it was yet full of sap he would
separate the soft, tough, thin inner layer of the bark. This usually
came off in sheets without a break. When these sheets of bark were
stretched and dried they could be used very nicely instead of paper.
Robinson next searched for something that would serve him as ink, and
this was much easier to find than paper. He had noticed many kinds of
galls of many different colors growing on trees. He did not know what
they were, or how they grew, but he had learned in his father's store
that ink was often made from galls gathered from trees. "Anyway," he
thought, "I can get ink from the cuttle-fish." He had watched this
animal get away from its enemies by sending out a cloud of purplish
fluid, in which to hide as it darted away. He had learned also that
indigo is made from the leaves of a plant. He had noticed a plant
growing in the open places in the forest whose leaves turned black when
dried.
Robinson gathered a quantity of gall-nuts and soaked them in water. To
the black fluid thus obtained he added a little rice water to make it
flow well, and this served very well as an ink. He kept his ink in a cup
made from a cocoanut shell.
He was not long in getting a pen, though the lack of a good sharp knife
made it hard to make a good one. In going about he had gathered a
quantity of large feathers. He saved these for the time when he should
have his paper and ink ready. Now, he cut away a quill to a point and
split it up a little way. He was now supplied with writing materials.
"Is it not wonderful," he thought, "how all our wants are filled? We
have only to want a thing badly enough and it comes."
Robinson began at once to write down the date for each day and the main
thing he did or that happened on it. He called this his diary. He had
now a better way of keeping time than on his tree calendar. He did not
need it any more.
You have no doubt wondered how Robinson could work in his cave,
especially at night without a light. The truth is, it was a great source
of discomfort to him. At sunset he was in total darkness in his cave.
During the day light enough streamed in from the open doorway. To be
alone in total darkness is not pleasant. "If I only had fire!" he said
again and again.
He watched the many large beetles and fire-flies flash their light in
the dark of the evening as he sat in front of his shelter. The thought
came to him that if he only had some way of keeping together a number of
them, they would serve very well for a candle in his cave at night. How
he longed for a glass bottle such as he had so often wantonly broken
when at home! Back of his shelter there was a hill where the rock layers
jutted out. He had noticed here several times the thin transparent rock
that he had seen in his father's store. It is called isinglass.
"I will make a living lantern," he said aloud in his eagerness.
He soon had a suitable piece pried loose. He cut a part of a cocoanut
shell away and in its place he put a sheet of isinglass. That evening at
dark he gathered several handfuls of the great fire beetles and put them
in his lantern. What joy their glow gave him in his cave at night. It
was almost as much comfort as a companion. But while it lighted up the
deep dark of the cave and enabled him to move about, he was unable after
all to write in his diary at night. Every morning he set his captives
free. In the evening he would go out and capture his light.
XXIII
ROBINSON IS SICK
One evening Robinson went to bed sound and well. The next morning he was
sick. Before he had only the heat of the day to complain of. To-day he
was freezing. He wanted to go to work to get warm, but even this did not
break his chill. It increased till his teeth chattered with the cold.
"Perhaps," thought he, "if I can sleep a little I will get better." But
he could not sleep. He was burning with fever and then shaking with cold
by turns. He felt a strong thirst, but he was so weak that he could
scarcely get the goat's milk. He had no sooner drunk the milk than his
tongue was as dry as before. He felt better after a night of sleep, but
the next day his fever and chills were worse than before. Then he
bethought him of his parents. How kindly his mother had taken care of
him! Now no one was near that could assist him.
"Ah," he sighed, "must I die here? Who would bury me? There is no one
to miss me." At this the tears came to his eyes.
His sickness increased with each day. Occasionally the fever would go
down sufficiently to allow him to get something to eat. Then it would be
worse than before. In his dire need he wanted to pray, but he was so
weak that he could only stammer, "Dear God, help me, or I shall die!"
One night he had a strange dream. He thought he saw his good old father
standing before him calling to him. He spread out his arms and cried
aloud, "Here I am, here I am!" He tried to get up, but he was so weak
that he fell back fainting.
He lay there a long time, but finally came to. He felt a burning thirst,
but no one reached him a drop of water. He prepared to die. He folded
his hands and prayed to God that he would be merciful to him. He prayed
forgiveness from his parents. Once more he raised his head and gazed
wildly around, then he sank back and knew no more.
When he again awoke he felt better. His hot fever had gone. He attempted
to walk. He had just enough strength to crawl to the table and fetch a
shell of water. When he tried to walk he had to sit down at every two or
three steps.
From this he recovered gradually, growing better and better, and he
thanked God inwardly for his recovery. His sickness had continued from
June 18 to July 3.
XXIV
ROBINSON'S BOWER
Robinson's sickness set him thinking about his home. He had been so
afraid of animals when he came to the island that he thought of nothing
but protection from them. He had been now a year on the island and had
seen nothing more dangerous than a goat. The fear of animals had
practically faded away. In thinking over his sickness he made up his
mind that it was caused by sleeping in his cave where the sun never
shone. The ventilation seemed good, but the walls were damp, especially
in the rainy season. Then the water would trickle down through the cleft
in spite of all he could do.
He resolved to build, if possible, a little cottage, or, as he called
it, a bower, in the yard in front of his shelter. The hedge of thistles
was growing and formed a fence that an animal could not get through. His
screen of willows on the outside of this would soon hide him from view
from the sea. He had the wall of rock and the hill behind him.
He planned out his way of building it very carefully. "It must be done,"
he said (Robinson formed the habit of talking to himself, so that he
would not forget how to talk), "without hammer, nails, or saw."
He first sought out four posts, as large as he could well handle. There
were always broken trees and branches in the forest. If he searched long
enough he could find posts just suited to his need. He wanted four of
the same thickness and height and with a fork at the end. After long
searching he found what he wanted. He was careful to get those that he
could drag to his shelter.
He placed these in the ground, forming the corners of a square about ten
feet long. In the forks he placed poles running around about eight feet
from the ground. At about every three feet he fastened others, running
in the same way, with heavy cords made of fibre. He found his greatest
trouble with the roof. It must be sloped to shed rain. He had to find
two more forked posts, three or four feet longer than the others. These
he placed opposite each other in the centers of two sides. Upon these he
placed a ridge pole. He then laid other poles lengthwise from ridge pole
to the edge of the frames.
His frame was now done. His plan was now to cover this frame with straw
or grasses tied in bundles. He had seen the barns in the country
thatched in this way by the Dutch farmers in New York State. He gathered
the straw of the wild rice. It was long, straight and tough. It was
easily tied into flat bundles. These he bound securely on to the frame
work with cords. He began at the bottom so that the ends of the row
would lap over the tops of the last one put on.
[Illustration: ROBINSON'S BOWER]
In this way he built a very comfortable and rainproof bower. It was
easy to make a bed of poles covered with straw. A table and bench were
added and shelves of poles.
Robinson felt great joy over this new home. "I will not now be sick any
more," he said. "In case of danger I can get into my cave. But at all
other times I will live in my bower." He had use still for his cave. He
could use it to store some things in. But he had to be careful about the
dampness in wet weather.
Robinson was getting to feel at home. He was no longer so sad. He did
not grieve so much for home. He looked upon his home with great delight.
It was secure. He had his herd of goats always in his sight. At evening
he would do his milking. He found he could keep the milk for some time
in the cave. He was tempted to try making some butter from the good,
rich cream. "But," said Robinson, "I have neither vessels to make it in
nor bread to eat it on."
He planned many things to do. "I will make a hammock some day for my
bower and some vessels to use in my work," he thought.
XXV
ROBINSON AGAIN EXPLORES HIS ISLAND
When Robinson recovered his strength he had a strong desire to see more
of the island. At first he had been in constant fear of wild animals,
but now he thought he would like to see all there was to see in the
island. On the 15th of July he started out. First he went to a brook
which ran into the sea near his cave. Its water was clear and pure;
along its shore lay beautiful meadows. As he came to the upper course of
the brook the meadow gave way to forest. On the border of the forest he
found melons and grapes.
The night came on and he slept again in a tree. The next morning he went
farther and came to a clear rivulet. Here the region was wonderfully
beautiful. The flowers bloomed as in a garden, and near the flowers
stood splendid apple and orange trees. He took as much of the fruit as
he could carry and went on his way. This journey continued three days.
The grapes which he had carried he dried in the sun and made raisins.
The 10th of September came, one year had passed on the island. He was
many hundred miles from home, alone on an island. With tears he cried
out, "Ah! what are my dear parents saying? They have no doubt long given
me up as dead. If I could only send them a message to comfort them and
let them know how much I love them!"
The day was celebrated as a holiday. He thanked God that He had given
him so many good things. Often he had lived the whole day in care and
anxiety. Now he tried to be more cheerful and to meet the troubles of
each day with courage.
But Robinson was not yet satisfied. He longed to know more of the island
and prepared himself for a greater journey. He slung his hunting pouch
over his shoulder, filled it full of food, took his bow and arrows,
stuck his stone hatchet in his belt and started on his way. He traveled
over meadows, through beautiful forests in which were hundreds of birds.
He was delighted as they sang and fluttered about.
The journey was beautiful and pleasant to Robinson. In the forests he
often saw small wild creatures, but he shot nothing. After the first
night he slept under a tree in the soft grass, for he had now no fear of
wild animals.
Along the shore he saw great groves of palms with their large nuts. He
saw, too, many goats in all parts of the island.
Now he was ready to take the shortest way home. He had not gone far
before he came into a dark forest. He became confused and wandered about
for several days. On the fourth day he came to a little pile of stones,
which he had made to mark the way as he was going out. From this place
the way was easy to find. On this trip he was gone already two weeks.
XXVI
ROBINSON AND HIS BIRDS
Of all the things he saw on his journey Robinson was most delighted with
the birds. They were of the most beautiful colors. The forest was full
of them. They gleamed like jewels in the deep masses of foliage. In the
morning their singing filled the air with sound.
Robinson had never taken much notice of the birds at home. But now every
living thing attracted him. He loved to see them happy. He would watch
often by the hour and learn the habits of nesting and getting food of
nearly every bird on the island.
Robinson did not know the names of many of the birds he saw on the
island. He had to make names for them. The strangest thing he saw on his
journey was the nest of what he called the yellow-tail. This bird lives
in colonies and makes its nest at the ends of the long leaves of the
mountain palm. When he first saw these queer looking sacks hanging from
the leaves he was amazed. He had never seen so strange a sight. From
the end of each great leaf hung a long, closely woven nest. Robinson
could not make out at first what they were. Soon, however, he saw the
birds come out of the mouths of the nests. Here, one hundred feet from
the ground, they hung their nests. But they were perfectly safe.
He had not gone far from the tree in which the yellow tails had their
nests when he was suddenly startled by a voice crying, "Who, who are
you?" Robinson was greatly frightened and hid beneath the drooping
branches of a cedar tree. He feared every moment that the owner of the
voice would make his appearance. But it kept at a distance. Every few
minutes from the depths of the forest would come the doleful cry, "Who,
who are you?" Robinson did not dare to stir from his hiding place. He
remained there over night. After the night came on he heard the strange
voice no more.
The next day he renewed his journey. He saw many birds that were wholly
strange to him. There was a kind of wild pigeon that built its home in a
hole in the rock. It was a most beautiful bird with long, slender,
graceful feathers in its tail. He saw the frigate bird soaring high
above the island. The number and beauty of the humming-birds amazed
Robinson. They were of all colors. One had a bill in the shape of a
sickle. The most brilliant of them all was the ruby-crested
humming-bird.
Near noon, while Robinson was shielding himself from the scorching heat
of the sun in a deep, shaded glen, he was startled again by the strange
voice crying, "Who, who, who are you?" He lay quite still, determined if
possible to allow the voice to come, if it would, within sight. He heard
it slowly coming up the glen. Each time it repeated the cry it sounded
nearer. At last he saw spying at him through the boughs of the tree
under which he was lying a large bird with soft, silky feathers of green
and chestnut. "Who, who, who are you?" said the bird. Robinson could not
help but laugh. He had been frightened at the cry of a bird.
But the bird that interested Robinson most was the parrot. There were
several kinds of them. They flew among the trees with great noise and
clatter and shrieking. Robinson determined if possible to secure one for
a pet. "I can teach it to talk," he said, "and I will have something to
talk to." As soon as he returned home he set about catching one. He
noticed that a number were in the habit of visiting an old tree near
the shelter every morning. He planned to snare one and tried several
mornings, but he could not get one into the snare. He tried to hit one
with his bow and arrow. He at last succeeded in hitting one and stunning
it so that it fell to the ground. He ran rapidly to pick it up, but
before he could get to where it lay in the bushes it had disappeared.
After thinking the matter over he concluded that it would be much better
to get a pair of young birds and raise them. The old ones would be hard
to tame and difficult to teach. It was easy enough to find a nest in a
hollow tree. He secured from the nest two birds just ready to fly. He
made a cage for them out of willow rods. He placed the cage at the
entrance of his cave and studied how he would feed them. Much to his
surprise the parent birds discovered their young ones and brought them
food and fed them through the open work of the cage.
When the birds were grown they rapidly learned to talk. Robinson took
great delight in teaching them. He taught them to call his name and when
he came near they would call out, "Poor old Robinson Crusoe!"
These birds remained for many years with Robinson. In fact, he was never
afterward without a parrot. They helped him to pass away very
pleasantly many hours that without them would have been sad.
Another bird that Robinson loved was the little house wren. This bird
was exceedingly tame and friendly. It was a very sweet and strong
singer. It loved to make its nest in or near his shelter. There it would
build and rear its young, within reach of his hands, while its throat
was always bursting with melody.
The mocking bird, too, always nested near and awakened him in the
morning with its wonderful song.
Robinson became a great friend and favorite of the bird inhabitants of
the island. They seemed to know him and showed no fear when near him.
This pleased him very much.
XXVII
ROBINSON GETS FIRE