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LIFE AND ADVENTURES

ROBINSON CRUSOE.ROBINSON FINISHING OFF

HIS BOAT.i ia AW
Wor

a

ANTHE

LIFE AND ADVENTURES

OF

ROBINSON CRUSOE,

OF YORK, MARINER.
INCLUDING AN

ACCOUNT OF HIS TRAVELS ROUND THREE
PAETS OF THE. GHOBE

WITH A

Memoir of the Author and anv Essay on bis Genius,

By SIR WALTER SCOTT,

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME, WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS.

 

NEW YORK:
C. S. FRANCIS & CO., 554 BROADWAY.

M,DOOC. LIX.MEMOIR

DANIEL DE FOE,

AUTHOR OF ROBINSON CRUSOE.

WiTH

AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS AND WRITINGS.

 

BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.

 

Peruaps there exists no work, either of instruction or entertainment, in the
English language, which has been more generally read, and more universally
admired, than the life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe. It is difficult to
Say in what the charm consists, by which persons of all classes and denomi-
nations are thus fascinated; yet the majority of readers will recollect it as
among the first works which awakened and interested their youthful atten-
tion ; and feel, even in advanced life, and in the maturity of their under-
standing, that there are still associated with Robinson Crusoe, the sentiments
peculiar to that period, when all is new, all glittering in prospect, and when
those visions are most bright, which the experience of after life tends only
to darken and destroy.

This work was first published in April, 1719; its reception, as may be
supposed, was universal. It is a singular circumstance, that the author,
(the subject of our present memoir,) after a life spent in political turmoil,
danger, and imprisonment, should have occupied himself, in its decline, in
the production of a work like the present; unless it may be supposed, that
his wearied heart turned with disgust from society and its institutions, and
found solace in picturing the happiness of a state, such as he has assigned
to his hero. Be this as it may, society is for ever indebted to the memory
of De Foe for his production of a work, in which the ways of Providence
are simply and pleasingly vindicated, and a lasting and useful moral is con-
veyed through the channel of an interesting and delightful story.

Daniel De Foe was born in London in the year 1668. His father was
James Foe, of the parish of St. Giles, butcher. Much curious speculation,
with which we shall not trouble our readers, has arisen from the circum-
stance of Daniel’s having, in his own instance, prefixed the De to the family
name. We are inclined to adopt the opinion of that critical inquirer, who
supposes that Daniel did so, being ashamed of the lowness of his origin,
and conceived the prefixed De had the sound of Norman dignity with it,vi MEMOIR OF DANIEL DE FOR,

His family, as well as himself, were dissenters; but it does not appear that
his tenets were so strict as his sect required; for he complains, in the Pre-
face to his More Reformation, that some Dissenters had reproached him, as
if he had said, that ‘the gallows and the galleys ought to be the penalty
of going to the conventicle ; forgetting, that I must design to have my father,
my wife, six innocent children, and myself, put into the same condition.

De Foe’s education was rather circumscribed, which is the more to be
lamented, as in so many instances, he has exhibited proofs of rare natural
genius. He was sent by his father, at twelve years old, to the Newington
Green Dissenting Academy, then kept by Mr. Morton, where he remained
about four years; and this appears to have been all the education he ever
received. When he was remanded from school, it would seem that, his
genius not lying towards the marrow-bone and cleaver, his father had put
him to some other trade; of what r&ture we are unable to learn, De Foe
himself being very reserved on the subject. When charged by Tutchin
with having his breeding as an apprentice to a hosier, he asserts, (May,
1705,) “that he never was a hosier, or an apprentice, but admits that he
had been a trader.”

This, however, had occupied but a short time of his youth; for in 1685,
when hewas in his twenty-second year, he took up arms in the cause of the
Duke of Monmouth. On the destruction of Monmouth’s party, Daniel had
the good fortune to escape unpunished amidst the herd of greater delin-
quents; but, in his latter years, when the avowal was no longer dangerous,
he boasted himself much of his exploits, in His Appeal to Honor and Justice,
being a true Account of his Conduct in Public Affairs.

Three years afterwards, (1688,) De Foe was admitted a Liveryman of
London. As he had been throughout a steady advocate for the Revolution,
he had now the satisfaction of witnessing that great event. Oldmixon
says, (Works, vol. ii. p. 276,) that ata feast given by the Lord Mayor of
London to King William, on the 29th October, 1689, De Foe appeared gal-
lantly mounted, and richly accoutred, among the troopers commanded by
Lord Peterborough, who attended the king and queen from Whitehall to
the Mansion House. All Daniel’s horsemanship, however, united to the
steady devotion of his pen to the cause of William, were unable to procure
him the notice of that cold-charactered monarch; and our author was fain
to content himself (as his adversary Tutchin asserts) with the humble occu-
pation of a hosier in Freeman’s Yard, Cornhill ;—wisely considering, that
if the court could do without political tracts, the people could not do with-
out stockings.

With the ill fortune, however, attendant upon those men of genius, who
cultivate their superior powers to the neglect of that common sense
which is requisite to carry a man ereditably through this every-day world,
De Foe’s affairs declined from bad to worse; he spent those hor
he ought to have devoted to his shop, in a society for the
lite learning, and he was under the necessity of absconding from his credi-
tors in 1692. Qne of those creditors, who had less consideration for polite
learning, and more irritability than the rest, took out a commission of
bankruptcy against him; but, fortunately for our author, this was super-
seded on a petition of those to whom he was most indebted, and a compo-
sillon was accepted, This composition he punctually paid by efforts of un-

irs which
cultivation of po-WITH AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS. Vil

wearied diligence; and some of the creditors whose claims had been thus
satisfied, falling into distress themselves, he waited upon them, and paid
their debts in full. He was next engaged in carrying on tile-works, on the
banks of the Thames, near Tilbury, but with little success; for it was sar-
castically said of him, that he did not, “like the Egyptians, require bricks
without straw, but, like the Jews, required bricks without paying his
laborers.” United to his tile-making, our author, stimulated by an active
mind and embarrassed circumstances, devised many other schemes, or, as
he called them, projects. He wrote many sheets about the English coin ;
he projected banks for every county, and factories for goods; he exhibited
a proposal (very feelingly, no doubt) for a commission of inquiry into bank-
rupts’ estates ; he contrived a pension-office for the relief of the poor, and
finished, by publishing a leng Essay upon projects themselves.

About this period, (1695,) our author’s indefatigable endeavors procured
him some notice from the court, and he was appointed accountant to the
commissioners for managing the duties on glass. Here also his usual ili
luck attended him; he was thrown out of his situation by the suppression
of the tax in 1699.

But the time at length arrived when the sun of royal favor was to shine
out upon our author’s prospects. About the end of 1699, there was pub-
lished, what De Foe calls, “an horrid pamphlet, in very ill verse, written
by one Tutchin, and called Zhe Foreigners: in which the author fell person-
ally upon the king, then upon the Dutch nation, and, after having reproach-
ed his majesty with crimes, that his worst enemies could not think of without
horror, he sums up all in the odious name of Foreigner. This filled me with
rage against the book, and gave birth to a trifle, which I never could hope
should have met with so general an acceptation.”

‘The trifle, which De Foe here alludes to, was his Zrue-born Englishman ;
a poetical satire on the Foreigners, and a defence of King William and the
Dutch ; of which the sale was great without example, and our author’s re-
ward proportionate. He was even admitted to the honor of a personal
interview with the king, and became with more ardor than ever a professed
partizan of the court. In this composition the satire was strong, powerful,
and manly, upbraiding the English tories for their unreasonable prejudice
against foreigners; the rather that there were so many nations blended in
the mass now called Englishmen. The verse was rough and mistuned, for
De Foe never seems to have possessed an ear for the melody of language,
whether in prose or verse. But, though wanting the long resounding verse
and energy divine of Dryden, he had often masculine expressions and
happy turns of thought, not unworthy of the author of Absalom and Achi-
tophel, though, upon the whole, his style seems rather to have been formed
on that of Hall, Oldham, and the elder satirists. The first verses are well

known:
‘Wherever God erects a house of prayer,
The devil always builds a chapel there;
And ’twill be found, upon examination,
The latter has the largest oongregation.”

The author’s first publication after The True-born Englishman was, The
Original Power of the Collective Body of the People of England examined and
asserted ; next, An Argument to prove that a Standing Army, with Consent ofvii MEMOIR OF DANINL DE FOE,

Parliament, was not inconsistent with a Free Government ; but, as we do not
mean to follow De Foe through the career of his politics, and intend only to
notice such works, as, in their consequences, materially affected his per-
sonal situation and affairs, we shall pass to the death of his sovereign and
patron, which took place 8th March, 1702. :

The accession of Anne having restored the line of Stuart, to whom the
politics and conduct of De Foe had been peculiarly obnoxious, our author
was shortly reduced, as before, to live on the produce of his wits : and it is
perhaps lucky for the world that there is so much truth in the universal
outcry against the neglect of living authors; for there seems a certain lazi-
ness concomitant with genius, which can only be incited to action by the
pressure of necessity. Had William lived, probably the world would never
have been delighted with the Adventures of Robinson Crusoe.

Whether De Foe found politics the most vendible produce of the press, or,
like Macbeth, felt himself

“ Stept in so far, that should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go 0’er,—”

we are yet to learn; but he ventured to reprint his Shortest Way with the
Dissenters ; and to publish several other treatises, which were considered
libellous by the Commons; and on the 25th of February, 1702-3, a com-
plaint being made in the House, of a book entitled The Shortest Way with
the Dissenters ; and the folios 11—18 and 26 being read, “ Resolved, that
this book, being full of false and scandalous reflections on this Parliament,
and tending to. promote sedition, be burnt by the hands of the common
hangman, in New Palace-Yard.”

Our unfortunate author’s political sins were now all mustered in array
against him, and a tremendous catalogue they made. He had been the
favorite and panegyrist of William ; he had fought for Monmouth, and op-
posed James ; he had vindicated the Revolution, and defended the rights
of the people; he had bantered, insulted, and offended, the whole Tory
leaders of the Commons; and, after all, he could not be quiet, but must re-
publish his most offensive productions.

Thus overpowered, De Foe was obliged to secrete himself; and we are
indebted to a very disagreeable circumstance for the following accurate de-
scription of his person. A proclamation wa

8 issued by the secretaries of
state, in January, 1708, in the following terms:

“St. James’s, Jan. LOS L02=—8.
“Whereas, Daniel De Foe, alias De Fooe, is charged with
dalous and seditious pamphlet, entitled, 7he Shortest W
ers ; he is a middle-sized Spare man, about forty
plexion, and dark-brown colored hair, but wears a wig, a hooked nose a
sharp chin, gray eyes, and a large mole near his mouth ; was born in Lon-
on, and for many years was a hose factor, in Freeman’s Yard, in Cornhill,
d pantile works near Tilburyfort, in Es-
Sex; whoever shall discover the said Daniel De Foe to one of her majesty’s
principal secretaries of state, or any of her majesty’s justices of peace, so
as he may be apprehended, shall have a reward o

: f 50/., which her majest
has ordered immediately to be paid upon such discovery.”

writing a scan-
‘ay with the Dissent-
years old, of a brown com-WITH AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS. 1X

He was shortly after caught, fined, pilloried, and imprisoned. “ Thus,”
Says he, “was I a second time ruined ; for by this affair I lost above 35001.
sterling.”

While he was confined in Newgate, he occupied his time in correcting
for the press a collection of his own writings, which was published in the
course of the year; and he even amused himself by writing an Ode to the
Pillory ; of which he had so lately been made the unwilling acquaintance.
Hence Pope’s insulting verse, which classes De Foe with his Tory rival :

“ Earless on high stood unabashed De Foe,
And Tutchin flagrant from the scenes below.”

His Hymn to the Pillory, in rough and harsh iambics, has, like the Zrzve-
born Englishman, and indeed all De Foe’s poetry, a strong fund of manly
satire, and we are mistaken if, in the lines which follow, the author does
not successfully retort upon his prosecutors the shame at least of the pun-
ishment to which he had been subjected. They are in the spirit, though
without the eloquence, of the gallant old cavalier, Lovelace.

** Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for a hermitage.”

The hymn of De Foe commences thus:

“‘ Hail! Hi’roglyphic State Machine,
Condemned to punish fancy in;
Men, that are men, can in thee feel no pain,
And all thy insignificance disdain.
Contempt, that false new word for shame,
Is without crime an empty name—
A shadow to amuse mankind,
But never frights the wise or well-fixed mind:
Virtue despises human scorn,
And scandals innocence adorn.”’

Not satisfied with this unpleasant subject for iambics, De Foe afterwards
wrote a Hymn to the Gallows.

But the chief object to which the author directed his mind, was the pro-
jection of Zhe Review. The publication of this periodical work commenced
in 4to., on the 19th of February, 1704, and continued at the rate of two num-
bers a week, till March, 1705, when an additiona] weekly number was pub-
lished, and it was continued every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, till
May, 1713, forming, in whole, nine thick volumes. De Foe was the sole
writer. This work treats of foreign and domestic intelligence, politics aud
trade; but as our author foresaw that it was not likely to become popular
unless amusing, he discusses various other topics, under the head of a
Scundal Club ; Love, Marriage, Poetry, Language, and the prevailing tastes
and habits of the times. Neither did these occupations find sufficient em-
ployment for his active mind. While he was still in Newgate, (1704,) he
published The Storm; or a collection of the most remarkable casualties
which happened in the tempest, 26th November, 1703. Nor was this work
a dry detail of disasters only, De Foe having taken the occasion, with hisx MEMOIR OF DANIEL DE FOE,

usual felicity, to inculcate the truths of religion, and the superintendency of
Providence, :

About the end of 1704, when, as our author tells us, he lay ruined and
friendless in Newgate, without hope of deliverance, Sir Robert Harley,
then secretary of state, of whom De Foe had no previous. personal knowl-
edge, sent a verbal message to him, desiring to know “what he could do
for him.” Our author, no doubt, made a suitable reply ; in consequence of
which, Sir Robert took an opportunity to represent to the queen his present
misery, and unmerited sufferings. Anne, however, did not Immediately
consent to his liberation, but she inquired into the circumstances of his
family, and sent, by Lord Godolphin, a considerable sum to his wife. She
afterwards, through the same medium, conveyed a sum to himself, equal to
the payment of his fine and discharge, and thus bound him eternally to her
interest. He was liberated from Newgate the end of 1704, and retired im-
mediately to his family at St. Edmund’s-Bury. He was not allowed, how-
ever, to enjoy the quiet he courted. Booksellers, news-writers, and wits,
circulated every where reports that he had fled from justice, and deserted
his security. - He despised their spite, and resumed his labors: the first
fruits of which were, a Hymn to Victory, and a Double Welcome to the Duke of
Marlborough ; the subjects for both of which were furnished by the glo-
rious achievements of that general.

Our author now continued his Review
for several years; in the course of w
quiet, and frequently to danger; but the consciousness of his situation as
an English freeholder, and a liveryman of London, united to a considerable
degree of resolution and personal courage, enabled him to encounter and
overcome the machinations of his enemies. It will scarcely be believed, at
this time of day, that, on a Journey which his affairs led him to take to the
western parts of England, a project was formed to kidnap and send him as
a soldier to the army ; that the westery justices, in the ardor of their party
zeal, determined to apprehend him as a vagabond ; and that suits were
commenced against him in his absence for fictitious debts: yet all these
circumstances De Foe has asserted in his Review ; and we have not learnt
that any attempt was ever made to controvert the truth of his statements,

About this time (1706) a situation occurred, for which our author’s abili-
ties were peculiarly fitted. The cabinet of Queen Anne w
person of general commercial knowledge,
manners, to go to Scotland for the purpose
of the Union. Lord Godolphin determined to employ De Foe; he accord-
ingly carried him to the queen, by whom our author was
ed, and in a few days he was sent to Edinburgh. The particular nature of
his instructions has never been made public; but on his arrival at Edin-
burgh, in October, 1706, De Foe was tecognized as a character almost diplo-
matic. We must refer our readers to his History of the Un ton, for the vari-
ous and interesting particulars of this mission ; the detail of which, here,
would occupy an extent beyond the limits of our biography,

e Foe appears to have been no great favorite in Scotland, although,
While there, he published Caledonia, a poem in honor of the nation. He
mentions many hair-breadth "scapes, which, by “his own prudence, and
God’s providence,” he effected ; and it is not wonderful, that where almost

, and his political pamphleteering,
hich he was subjected to much dis-

as in watt of a
ready talents, and insinuating
of promoting the great measure

graciously receiy-WITH AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS. x1

fhe whole nation was decidedly averse to the Union, a character like De Foe,
sent thither to promote it by all means, direct and indirect, should be re-
garded with dislike, and even exposed to the danger of assassination. The
act for the Union was passed by the Scotch parliament in January, and De
Foe returned to London, in February, 1707, to write a history of that great
international treaty. Itis believed that his services were rewarded by a
pension from Queen Anne,

During the troublous period which followed, until the cenclusion of the
war by the treaty of Utrecht, De Foe, wiser by experience, lived quietly at
Newington, publishing his Review. He encountered, however, in the fulfil-
ment of this task, much contentious opposition and obloquy, which he man-
fully resisted and retorted; but, after the political changes, by which his
first patron Sir Rebert Harley, and next Lord Godolphin, were turned out
of power, his pecuniary allowance from the Treasury seems to have ceased,
and he was compelled, as before, to launch cut as a general writer for the
supply of his necessities. The political agitation of the times dictated his
subjects; but, unfortunately for De Foe, both Tories and Jacobites, in
those days, were such plain matter-of-fact men, that his raillery was mis-
understood, and he was arrested, and committed to his old habitation, for
several squibs, which were obviously ironical.

The writings on which he was indicted were two: What if the Pretender
should come? and What if the Queen should die? “Nothing,” says De Foe,
“could be more plain, than that the titles of these are amusements, in order
to get the books into the hands of those who had been deluded by the Jaco-
bites.” His explanation would not suffice; he was tried and found guilty,
fined in 800/., and committed te Newgate. He was now compelled to drop
the publication of his Heview ; and it is singular, that he did so while con-
fined in Newgate, the very place in which its idea had first entered his
head nine years before.

After lying in jail a few months, he was liberated by the queen’s order in
November, 1718.

Although thus released, and the innocence of his intentions admitted, if
not established, nothing was done for him; and the queen’s death, which
took place shortly after, (in July, 1714,) left him defenceless to the attacks
of his rancorous_enemies. ‘‘No sooner,” says he, “was the queen dead,
and the king, as right required, proclaimed, but the rage of men increased
upon me to that degree, that their threats were such as I am unable to ex-
press; and though I have written nothing since the queen’s death, yet a
great many things are called by my name, and I bear the answerer’s insults.”
This was the darkest period of our author’s life. He had lest his appoint-
ment, whatever it was; he had been obliged to give up his Review ; every
thing he ventured to publish besides, was received with suspicion, and he
was on all hands overborne by faction, injury, and insult. His health de-
clined fast under these uvnmerited sufferings, but the viger of his mind re-
mained; and he determined to assert the innocence of his conduct, and to
clear his blemished fame. He accordingly published, in 1715, “ An Appeal
to Honor and Justice, though it be of his worst Enemies, being a True Account
of his Conduct in Public Affairs.” This work contains a long account and

defence of his political conduct from the outset, and a most affecting de-xi MEMOIR OF DANIEL DE FOR,

tail of his sufferings; but the subject had been too much for him. When
he reviewed what he had done, and how he had been rewarded ; how much
he had deserved, and how heavily he had suffered; the ardent spirit of De
Foe sunk before the picture, and he was struck with apoplexy before he
could finish his work. It was published, nevertheless, by his friends, and
the profits of its sale seem to have been the only source of his support.
This was the terminating period of our author’s political career. He re-
covered his health, but his mind had changed its tone; and it was now that
the history of Selkirk first suggested to him the idea of Robinson Orusoe. Tt
has been thought by some, to detract from the merit of De Foe, that the
idea was not originally his own; but really the story of Selkirk, which had
been published a few years before in Woodes Rogers’s Voyage round the
World, appears to have furnished our author with so little beyond the bare
idea of a man living upon an uninhabited island, that it seems quite imma-
terial whether he took his hint from that, or from any other similar story,
of which many were then current.

The sale of Robinson Crusoe was, as we have already stated, rapid and ex-
tensive, and De Foe’s profits were commensurate. The work was attacked
on all sides by his ancient opponents, whose labors have long since quietly
descended with their authors to merited oblivion; bat our author, baving
the public on his side, set them all at defiance; and the same year he pub-
lished a second volume with equal success. Thus far,

** With steady bark and flowing sail
He ran before the wind ;”

but, incited by the hope of further profit, and conceiving the theme of Cru-
soe inexhaustible, he shortly after published Serious Reflections during the
Life of Robinson Crusoe, with his Vision of the Angelic World. These Visions
and Reflections were well received at the time, although by no means so
much in requisition now.

With the return of his good fortune, our author’s health was re-estab-
lished, and the vigor of his mind restored. He published, in 1720, The Life
and Piracies of Captain Singleton ; and finding it safer, it would seem, as
well as more profitable, to amuse the public, than to reform them, he con-
tinued this course, with little variation, for the remainder of his life.

His subsequent publications, to all of which a considerable degree of
popularity was attached, though none of them equalled the reputation of
Leobinson Crusoe, were, The Dumb Philosopher, History of Duncan ( fampbell,

vemarkable Life of Colonel Jack, Fortunate Mistress, and New Voyage round
the World.

We are now to take leave of our author, who died in 1791, at the age of
sixty-eight, in Cripplegate, London, leaving a widow and large family in
tolerable circumstances. r :

That De Foe was a man of powerful intellect and lively imagination, is
obvious from his works; that he was possessed of an ardent temper, a Treso-
lute courage, and an unwearied spirit of enterprise, is ascertained by the
events of his changeful career ; and whatever may be thought of that rash-
ness and improvidence, by which his progress in life was so frequently im-
peded, there seems no reason to withhold from him the praise of as much,WITH AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS. xi

nay more, integrity, sincerity, and consistency, than could have been ex-
pected in a political author writing for bread, and whose chief protector,
Harley, was latterly of a different party from his own. As the author of
fiobinson Crusoe, his fame promises to endure as long as the language in
which he wrote.

So far my late regretted friend.* It seems injustice to the author of Rob-
mson Crusoe to permit his memoirs to be concluded without a brief attempt
to account for that popularity, which, in his principal work at least, has
«jualled that of any author who ever wrote.

And we must, in the first place, remark, that the fertility of De Foe was
astonishing. He wrote on all occasions, and on all subjects, and seemingly
had little time for preparation upon the subject in hand, but treated it from
the stories which his memory retained of early reading, and such hints as
ae had caught up in society, not one of which seems to have been lost upon
him. <A complete list of De Foe’s works, nothwithstanding the exertions
of the late George Chalmers, has not yet been procured, and a perfect col-
lection even of such booksas he is well known to have written, can scarcely be
procured, even by the most active bibliomaniac. The preceding memoir does
not notice one-half of his compositions, all, even the meanest of which, have
something in them to distinguish them as the works of an extraordinary
man. It cannot, therefore, be doubted, that he possessed a powerful memory
to furnish him with materials, and a no less copious vein of imagination to
weave them up into a web of his own, and supply the rich embroidery which
in reality constitutes their chief value. De Foe does not display much ac-
quaintance with classic learning, neither does it appear that his attendance
on the Newington Seminary had led him deep into the study of ancient lan-
guages. His own language is genuine English, often simple even to vul-
garity, but always so distinctly impressive, that its very vulgarity had, as
we shall presently show, an efficacy, in giving an air of truth or probability
to the facts and sentiments it conveys. Exclusive of politics, De Foe’s
studies led chiefly to those popular. narratives, which are the amuse-
ment of children and of the lower classes ; those accounts of travellers who
have visited remote countries; of voyagers who have made discoveries of
new lands and strange nations; of pirates and bucaniers who have acquired
wealth by their desperate adventures on the ocean. His residence at Lime-
house, near the Thames, must have made him acquainted with many of
those wild mariners, half privateers, half robbers, whom he must often have
heard relate their adventures, and with whose manners and sentiments he
thus became intimately acquainted. There is reasen to believe, from a
passage in his Review, (we have unfortunately mislaid the reference, ) that
he was acquainted with Dampierre, a mariner whose scientific skill in his
profession and power of literary composition were at that time rarely found
n his profession, especially among those rough sons of the ocean who
acknowledged no peace beyond the Line, and had as natural an enmity to a
3outh American Spaniard as a greyhound to a hare, and who, though distin-
guished by the somewhat milder term of bucanier, were little better than
sbsolute pirates. The English government, it is well known, were not,

* The preceding part of this sketch was by Mr. John Ballantyne, the remainder by
ir Walter Scott.ions

peemeiam ate ace ee

XIV MEMOIR OF DANIEL DE FOR,

however, very active in destroying this class of adventurers while they
confined their depredations to the Dutch and the Spaniards, and, indeed,
seldom disturbed them, if they returned from their roving life, and sat
down to enjoy their ill-gotten gains. The courage of these men, the won-
derful risks which they incurred, their hair-breadth escapes, and the
romantic countries through which they travelled, seem to have had infinite
charms for De Foe. He has written several books on this subject, all of
which are entertaining, and remarkable for the accuracy with which he per-
sonates the character of a bucaniering adventurer. The Wew Voyages Round
the World, the Voyages and Piracies of Captain Singleton, are of this class,
and the second part of Robinson Crusoe properly belongs to it. De Foe’s
general acquaintance with nautical affairs has not been doubted, as he is
said never to misapply the various sea-phrases, or show an ignorance unbe-
coming the character under which he wrote. His remarks upon trade,
which are naturally mixed with these accounts of foreign parts, might na-
turally be expected from one whose speculations in every channel of trade
had enabled him to write An Account of Commerce, and also a work called
the English Tradesman, from which he appears to have been familiar with
foreign countries, their produce, their manners, and government, and what-
ever rendered it easy or difficult to enter into trade with them. We may
therefore conclude that Purchas’s Pilgrim, Hackluyt’s Voyages, and the
other ancient authorities, had been curiously examined by him, as well as
those of his friend Dampierre, of Wafer, and others who had been in the
South Seas, whether as privateers, or, as it was then called, Upon the account.

Shylock observes, there are land thieves and water thieves; and as De
Foe was familiar with the latter, so he was not without some knowledge of
the practices and devices of the former. We are afraid we must impute
to his long and repeated imprisonments, the opportunity of becoming ac-
quainted with the secrets of thieves and mendicants, their acts of plunder,
concealment, and escape. But whatever way he acquired his knowledge of
low life, De Foe certainly possessed it in the most extensive sense, and ap-
plied it in the composition of several works of fiction in the style termed by
the Spaniards Gusto Picaresco, of which no man was ever a greater master.
This class of the fictitious narrative may be termed the Romance of Roguery,
the subjects being the adventures of thieves, rogues, vagabonds, and swind-
lers, including viragoes and courtezans. The improved taste of the pre-
sent age has justly rejected this coarse species of amusement, which is, be-
sides, calculated to do an infinite deal of mischief among the lower classes,
as it presents in a comic, or even heroic shape, the very crimes and vices
to which they are otherwise most likely to be tempted. Nevertheless, the
strange and blackguard scenes which De Foe describes, are fit to be com-
pared to the gipsy-boys of the Spanish painter Murillo, which are so justly
admired, as being, in truth of conception, and spirit of execution, the very
chef-@ wuores of art, however low and loathsome the originals from which
they are taken.

A third species of composition, to which the author’s active and vigorous
genius was peculiarly adapted, was the account of great national convul-
sions, whether by war, or by the pestilence, or the tempest. These were
tales waich are sure, when even moderately well told, to arrest the attention
and which, narrated with that impression of reality which De Foe knew 50WITH AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS. xv

well how to convey, make the hair bristle and the skin creep. In this man-
ner he has written the Memoirs of 4 Cawalier, which have been often read
and quoted as a real production of a real personage. Born himself almost
immediately after the Restoration, De Foe must have known many of those
who had been engaged in the civil turmoils of 1642-6, to which the period
of these memoirs refers. He must have lived among them at that age when
boys, such as we conceive De Foe must necessarily have heen, cling to the
knees of those who can tell them of the darings and the dangers of their
youth, at a period when their own passions, and views of pressing forward
in life, have not begun to operate upon their minds, and while they are still
pleased to listen to the adventures which others have encountered on that
stage, which they themselves have not yet entered upon. The Memoirs of
a Cavalier have certainly been enriched with some such anecdotes as were
likely to fire De Foe’s active and powerful imagination, and hint to him in
what colors the subject ought to be treated.

The History of the Great Plague in London is one of that particular class
of compositions which hovers between romance and history. Undoubtedly
De Foe embodied a number of traditions upon this subject with what he
might actually have read, or of which he might otherwise have received
direct evidence. The subject is hideous almost to disgust, yet, even had he
not been the author of Robinson Crusoe, De Foe would have deserved im-
mortality for the genius which he has displayed in this work, as well as in
the Memoirs of a Cavalier. This dreadful disease, which, in the language
of Scripture, might be described as “the pestilence which walketh in dark-
ness, and the destruction that wasteth at noon-day,” was indeed a fit subject
for a pencil so veracious as that of De Foe; and, accordingly, he drew
pictures almost too horrible to look upon.

The Great Storm, which, on 26th November, 1703, in Addison’s phrase,
“over pale Britannia pass’d,” was seized upon by De Foe as a subject for
the exercise of his powers of description. But as it consists in a great
measure of letters from the country, wretched pastoral poetry, (for De Foe
was only a poet in prose,) and similar buckram and binding used by book-
makers, it does not do the genius of the author the same credit as the works
before-named.

Another species of composition, for which this multifarious author showed
a strong predilection, was that upon theurgy, magic, ghost-seeing, witch-
craft, and the occult sciences. De Foe dwells on such subjects with so much
unction, as to leave us little doubt that he was to a certain point a believer
in something resembling an immediate communication between the inhabit-
ants of this world, and of that which we shall in future inhabit. He is par-
ticularly strong on the subject of secret forebodings, mysterious impressions,
bodements of good or evil, which arise in our own mind, but which yet
seem impressed there by some external agent, and not to arise from the
course of our natural reflections.

Whatever were De Foe’s real sentiments on those mystic subjects, there
is no doubt that he was fond of allowing his mind to dwell on them; and,
either from his own taste, or because he reckoned them peculiarly calculated
to attract the notice of a numerous class of readers, many of his popular
publications turn upon supernatural visitation. Thus he wrote “An Essay
on the history and reality of Apparitions; being an account of what theyXvi MEMOIR OF DANIEL DE FOE,

are, and what they are not; whence they come, and whence they come not;

as also how we may distinguish between the apparitions of good and evil

Spirits, and how we ought to behave to them.” This Essay on Apparitions

was afterwards published under the name of Morton. De Foe, under the

name of John Beaumont, Ksq., wrote A Treatise of Spirits, Apparitions,

Witchcraft, and other Magical Practices ; containing an account of Gen wv and

Lumiliar Spirits, ce. In both of these works De Foe’s reasoning, if it can
be called such, belongs to the Platonic System of Dr. Henry More, but is
not very consistent either with that or with itself. On the other hand, the
examples, or, in other words, the stories of ghosts and magic, with which
we are favoured, are remarkably well told, or rather, we should say, com-
posed, and that with an air of perfect veracity, which nobody so well knew
how to preserve as our author. To this class of his writings must be added
the Life of Duncan Campbell, the Conjuror and Fortune-teller, a fellow who
pretended to be deaf and dumb, and to tell fortunes, and whose reputation
was such at the time, that De Foe thought his name would sell more than
one book, and also wrote the Spy on the Conjuror ; for, pressed by his cir-
cumstances to seek out such subjects as were popular for the moment, our
author was apt to adhere to those which he had already treated with appro-
bation. Thus, he not only wrote a second part to Robinson Crusoe, which
is greatly inferior to the first part of that inimitable romance, but he drew
a third draught on the popularity which it had acquired him, by a work of
the mystical kind to which we have just alluded. This last seems the per-
fection of book-making. It is termed, Serious Reflections during the Life of
Lobinson Crusce, with his Vision of the Angelical World. The contents are,
in general, trite enough reflections upon moral subjects; and though Robin-
son Crusoe’s solitary state is sometimes referred to, and the book is orna-
mented with a bird’s-eye view of the memorable island, yet it contains few
observations that might not have been made by any shop-keeper living at
Charing Cross. Thus may the richest source of genius be exhausted, and
the most plentiful flow of invention drained off to the very dregs.

Besides those three Several species of romantic fiction, in each of which
Daniel De Foe was a copious author, his unwearied pen was also turned to
moral and philosophical subjects, to those which relate to the economy of
life, to history, and to statistics and descriptive subjects. He wrote Travels
in North and South Britain ; he wrote a History of the Union; he wrote an
incorrect History of the Church of Scotland, from the Restoration to the Revo-
lution. None of these historical works are of much value, except, perhaps,
the History of the Union, which is little more than a dry journal of what
passed in the Scottish Parliament upon that remarkable occasion; yet De
Foe must have had an interesting tale to tell, if he had chosen ite But,
writing under Harley’s patronage, he cramped his genius, probably, to
avoid the risk of giving offence to the irritable Scottish nation. Among his
numerous political tracts, the most interesting perhaps is, The History of
Addresses, which, written with great power of sarcasm, places in a ludicrous
and contemptible light, that mode of communication between the people
and the throne.

It is not, however, of such political subjects that we have undertaken to
treat. The multifarious author whose head

imagined, and whose pen
executed, such vanety of works upon them, th

at it is a labour even to col-WITH AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS. XVil

lect their names, must be now treated of solely in his character of a writer
of fictitious composition.

And here, before proceeding to attempt a few observations on Robinson
Crusoe in particular, it may be necessary to consider what is the particular
charm which carries the reader through, not that chef-d’euvre alone, but
others of De Foe’s compositions, and inspires a reluctance to lay down the
volume till the tale is finished; and the desire, not generally felt in the
perusal of works of fiction, to read every sentence and word upon every
leaf, instead of catching up as much of the story as may enable us to under-
stand the conclusion.

It cannot be the beauty of the style which thus commands the reader’s
attention; for that of De Foe, though often forcible, is rather rendered so
by the interest of a particular situation than by the art of the writer. In
general the language is loose and inaccurate, often tame and creeping, and
almost always that of the lower classes in society. Neither does the charm
depend upon the character of the incidents; for although in Robinson Crusoe
the incidents are very fine, yet in the History of the Plague the events are
disgusting, and scarce less in those works where the scene lies in low life.
Yet, like Pistol eating his leek, we go on growling and reading to the end
of the volume, while we nod over many a more elegant subject, treated by
authors who exhibit a far greater command of language. Neither can it be
the artful conducting of the story, by which we are so much interested. De
Foe seems to have written too rapidly to pay the least attention to this cir-
cumstance; the incidents are huddled together like paving-stones discharged
from a cart, and have as little connection between the one and the other.
The scenes merely follow, without at all depending on each other. They
are not like those of the regular drama, connected together by a regular
commencement, continuation, and conclusion, but rather resemble the pic-
tures in a showman’s box, which have no relation further than as being
enclosed within the same box, and subjected to the action of the same string.

To what, then, are we to ascribe this general charm attached to the
romances of De Foe? We presume to answer, that it is chiefly to be as-
cribed to the unequalled dexterity with which our author has given an
appearance of REALITY to the incidents which he narrates. Even De Foe’s
deficiencies in style, his homeliness of language, his rusticity of thought,
expressive of what is called the Crassa Minerva, seem to claim credit for him
ys one who speaks the truth, the rather that we suppose he wants the skill
10 conceal or disguise it. The principle is almost toa simple to need illus-
tration; and yet, as it seems to include something of a paradox, since in fact
it teaches that with the more art a story is told, the less likely it is to attract
earnest attention, it may be proved by reference to common life. If we meet
with a friend in the street, who tells us a story containing something beyond
usual interest, and not of every-day occurrence, our feeling with respect to
the truth of the story will be much influenced by the character of the narra-
tor. If he is a man of wit or humour, and places the ludicrous part of the
tale in the most prominent point of view, the hearer will be apt to recollect
that his friend is a wag, and make some grains of allowance accordingly.
On the other hand, supposing the person who communicates the narrative
o be of a sentimental or enthusiastic character, with romantic ideas and a
tore of words to express them, you listen to his tale with a sort of suspicionxviil MEMOIR OF DANIEL DE FOE,

that it is too well told to be truly told, and that though it may be at bottom
real, yet it has been embroidered over by the flourishes of the narrator.
But if the same fact be told by a man of plain sense, and sufficient knowledge
of the world, the minuteness with which he tells the story, mixing up with
it a number of circumstances which are not otherwise connected with it,
than as existing at the same moment, seems to guaranty the truth of what
he says; and the bursts, whether of mirth or of emotion, which accompany
the narrative, appear additional warrants of his fidelity, because neither is
the usual mood of his mind. You believe, as coming from such a person,
that which upon other information you might have thought an imposition,
as Benedict credits the report of Beatrice’s affection towards him, because
“the fellow with the gray beard said it.”’

In the testimony of such a person upon a subject which is at all interest-
ing, we generally detect some point which ascertains the eye-witness, and
some expression which would seem to have only occurred to an individual
who had heard and seen the facts to which he speaks. Those who are in
the habit of attending courts of justice, during the leading of evidence,
frequently hear not only from men or women of observation, bat from “ iron-
witted fools and unrespective boys,” such striking circumstances as the fol-
lowing: A horrible murder had been committed by a man upon a person
whom he had invited into his house in friendship; they were alone together
when the deed was done, and the murderer, throwing on his coat, hastily
left the house before the deed was discovered. A child of twelve or thirteen
years old gaye evidence that she was playing in the under part of the dwell-
ing, and heard the accused person run hastily down stairs, and stumble at
the threshold. She said she was very much frightened at the noise she
heard; and being asked whether she had ever before thought of being
frightened by a man running hurriedly down stairs, she replied, no, but the
noise then made was like no other she had ever heard before. The poet of
the most active imagination would hardly have dared to ascribe such im-
pressive effects to the wild and precipitate retreat of guilt in making its
escape from justice. This peculiar effect upon the child’s imagination we
might have doubted if we had read it in fiction, and yet how striking it be-
comes, heard from the mouth of the child herself !

It is no doubt true, that, in assuming this peculiar style of narrative, the
author does so at a certain risk. He debars himself from the graces of lan-
guage, and the artifice of narrative; he must sometimes seem prolix, some-
times indistinct and obscure, though possessing occasional points of brillian-
cy; 1n which respect his story may resemble some old Catholic towns on the
Continent, where the streets are left in general darkness, save at those
favored spots where lamps are kept burning before the altars of particular
saints ; whereas, a regularly composed narrative represents an English
country town, so well lighted, throughout, that no particular Spot, scarce
even the dwelling of Mr. Mayor, or the window of the apothecary, can ex-
hibit any glow of peculiar lustre. And certainly it is the last style which
should be attempted by a writer of inferior genius; for though it be possible
’ £0 disguise mediocrity by fine writing, it appears in all its native inanity

when ib assumes the garb of simplicity. Besides, this peculiar style of writ-
ing requires that the author possess King Fadlallah’s secret of transmigra-
tion from one body to another, and possessing himself of all the qualitiesWITH AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS. X1x

which he finds in the assumed character, retaining his own taste and judg-
ment to direct them.

Sometimes this is done by the author avowedly taking upon himself an
imaginary personage, and writing according to his supposed feelings and
prejudices. What would be the Vicar of Wakefield’s history unless told by
the kindest and worthiest pedant that ever wore a cassock, namely, the
Vicar himself? And what would be the most interesting and effecting, as
well as the most comic, passages of Castle Rachrent, if narrated by one who
had a less regard for “the family” than the immortal Thady, who, while he
sees that none of the dynasty which he celebrates were perfectly right, has
never been able to puzzle out wherein they were certainly wrong. Mr. Galt’s
country Provost, and still more his reverend Annalist of the Parish, should
be also distinguished in this class. Wordsworth, himself, has assumed, in
one of his affecting poems, the character of a sea-faring person retired to
settle in the country.

These are, however, all characters of masquerade: We believe that of De
Foe was entirely natural to him. The high-born Cavalier, for instance,
speaks nearly the same species of language, and shows scarce a greater
knowledge of society than Robinson Crusoe ; only he has a cast of the grena-
dier about him, as the other has the trim of a seaman. It is greatly to be
doubted whether De Foe could have changed his’ colloquial, circuitous, and
periphrastic style for any other, whether more coarse or more elegant. We
have little doubt it was connected with his nature, and the particular turn
of his thoughts and ordinary expressions, and that he did not succeed so
much by writing in an assumed manner, as by giving full scope to his own.

An adventurous bookseller had ventured to print a considerable edition
of a work by the Reverend Charles Drelincourt, minister of the Calvinist
Church in Paris, and translated by M. D’Assigny, under the title of the
“Christian’s Defence against the Fear of Death, with several directions how
to prepare ourselves to die well.” But howeyer certain the prospect of
death, it is not so agreeable (unfortunately) as to invite the eager contem-
plation of the public; and Drelincourt’s book, being neglected, lay a dead
stock on the hands of the publisher. In this emergency, he applied to De
Foe to assist him, (by dint of such means as were then, as well as now,
pretty well understood in the literary world,) in rescuing the unfortunate
book from the literary death to which general neglect seemed about to con-
sign it.

De Foe’s genius and audacity devised a plan which, for assurance and in-
genuity, defied even the powers of Mr. Puff in the Oritic; for who but him-
self would have thought of summoning up a ghost from the grave to bear
witness in favor of a halting body of divinity? He wrote a pamphlet enti-
tled, “The True History of the Apparition of one Mrs. Veal the next day
after her death, to one Mrs. Bargrave, at Canterbury, the eighth of Septem-
ber, 1705, which Apparition recommends the perusal of Drelincourt’s Book
of Consolation against the Fears of Death.” There is a matter-of-fact, busi-
ness-like style in the whole account of the transaction, which bespeaks
ineffable powers of self-possession. The narrative is drawn up “by a gen-
tleman, a Justice of Peace at Maidstone, in Kent, a very intelligent person.”
And, moreover, ‘‘ the discourse is attested by a very sober and understand-
ing gentlewoman, who lives in Canterbury, within a few doors of the houseXX MEMOIR OF DANIEL DE FOE,

in which Mrs. Bargrave lives.” The Justice believes his kinswoman to be
of so discerning a spirit, as not to be put upon by any fallacy—and the kins-
woman positively assures the Justice, ‘‘ that the whole matter, as it is related
and laid down, is really true, and what she herself heard, as near as may
be, from Mrs. Bargrave’s own mouth, who, she knows, had no reason to in-
vent or publish such a story, or any design to forge and tell a lie, being a
woman of so much honesty and virtue, and her whole life a course, as it
were, of piety.” Skepticism itself could not resist this triple court of
evidence so artfully combined, the Justice attesting for the discerning spirit
of the sober and understanding gentlewoman his kinswoman, and his kins-
woman becoming bail for the veracity of Mrs. Bargrave. And here, gentle
reader, admire the simplicity of those days. Had Mrs. Veal’s visit to her
friend happened in our time, the conductors of the daily press would have
given the word, and seven gentlemen, unto the said press belonging, would,
with an obedient start, have made off for Kingston, for Canterbury, for
Dover,—for Kamtschatka if necessary,—to pose the Justice, cross-examine
Mrs. Bargrave, confront the sober and understanding kinswoman, and dig
Mrs. Veal up from her grave, rather than not get to the bottom of the story.
But in our time we doubt and scrutinize; our ancestors wondered and
believed.

The effect was most wonderful. Drelincourt wpon Death, attested by one
who could speak from experience, took an unequalled run. The copies had
hung on the bookseller’s hands as heavy as a pile of lead bullets. They now
traversed the town in every direction, like the same balls discharged from
a field-piece. In short, the object of Mrs. Veal’s apparition was perfectly
attained. :

The air of writing with all the plausibility of truth must, in almost every
case, have its own peculiar value; as we admire the paintings of some Flem-
ish artists, where, though the Subjects drawn are mean and disagreeable,
and such as in nature-we would not wish to study or look close upon, yet
the skill with which they are represented by the painter gives an interest to
the imitation upon canvas which the original entirely wants. But, on the
other hand, when the power, of exact and circumstantial delineation ig
applied to objects which we are anxiously desirous to see in their proper
shape and colors, we have a double source of pleasure both in the art of the
painter, and in the interest which we take in the subject represented. Thus
the style of probability with which De Foe invested his narratives, was per-
haps ill bestowed, or rather wasted, upon some of the works which he
thought proper to produce, and cannot recommend to us the subject of
Colonel Jack and Moll Flanders; but, on the other hand, the same talent
throws an air of truth about the delightful history of Robinson Crusoe, which
we never could have believed it possible to have united with so extraor-
dinary a situation as is assigned to the hero. Al] the usual scaffolding and
machinery employed in composing fictitious history are carefully discarded.
The early incidents of the tale, which in ordinary works of invention are

usually thrown out as pegs to hang the conclusion upon, are in this work
only touched upon, and suffered to drop out of sight. Robinson, for exam-
ple, never hears anything more of his elder brother, who enters Lockhart’s
Dragoons in the beginning of the work, and who, in any common romance,
would certainly have appeared before the conclusion, We lose sight atWITH AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS. XXi
once and for ever of the interesting Xury; and the whole earlier adventures
of our voyager vanish, not to be recalled to our recollection by the subse-
quent course of the story. His father—the good old merchant of Hull—all
the other persons who have been originally active in the drama—vanish
from the scene, and appear not again. This is not the case in the ordinary
romance, where the author, however luxuriant his invention, does not will-
ingly quit possession of the creatures of his imagination, till they have ren-
dered him some services upon the scene; whereas, in common life, it rarely
happens that our early acquaintances exercise much influence upon the for-
tunes of our future life.

Our friend Robinson, thereafter, in the course of his roving and restless
life, is at length thrown upon his Desert Island, a situation in which, exist-
ing as a solitary being, he became an example of what the unassisted ener-
gies of an individual of the human race can perform; and the author has,
with wonderful exactness, described him as acting and thinking precisely
as such a man must have thought and acted in such an extraordinary situa-
tion.

Pathos is not De Foe’s general characteristic; he had too little delicacy
of mind; when it comes, it comes uncalled, and is created by the circum-
stances, not sought for by the author. The excess, for instance, of the
natural longing for human society which Crusoe manifests while on board
of the stranded Spanish vessel, by falling into a sort of agony, as he repeated
the words, “O, that but one man had been saved !—Oh, that there had been
but one!” is in the highest degree pathetic. The agonizing reflections of
the solitary, when he is in danger of being driven to sea, in his rash attempt
to circumnavigate his island, are also affecting.

In like manner we may remark, that De Foe’s genius did not approach
the grand or terrific. The battles, which he is fond of describing, are told
with the indifference of an old bucanier, and probably in the very way in
which he may have heard them recited by the actors. His goblins, too, are
generally a common-place sort of spirits, that bring with them very little
of supernatural terror; and yet the fine incident of the print of the naked
foot on the sand, with Robinson Crusoe’s terrors in consequence, never fail
to leave a powerful impression upon the reader.

The supposed situation of his hero was particularly favorable to the cir-
cumstantial style of De Foe. Robinson Crusoe was placed in a condition
where it was natural that the slightest event should make an impression on
him; and De Foe was not an author who would leave the slightest event
untold. When he mentions that two shoes were driven ashore, and adds
that they were not neighbors, we feel it an incident of importance to the
poor solitary.

The assistance which De Foe derived from Selkirk’s history, seems of a
very meagre kind. It is not certain that he was obliged to the real merit
of Juan Fernandez even for the original hint; for the putting mutineers or
turbulent characters on shore upon solitary places, was a practice so general
among the bucaniers, that there was a particular name for the punishment;
it was called marooning aman. De Foe borrowed, perhaps, from the account
of Woodes Rogers, the circumstance of the two huts, the abundance of
goats, the clothing made out of their skins; and the turnips of Alexander
Selkirk may have perhaps suggested the corn of Robinson Crusoe. Evenxxii MEMOIR OF DANIEL DE FOE,

these incidents, however, are so wrought up and heightened, and so much
is added to make them interesting, that the bare circumstances occurring
elsewhere, cannot be said to infringe upon the author’s claim to originality.
On the whole, indeed, Robinson Crusoe is put to so many more trials of
ingenuity, his comforts are so much increased, his solitude is so much diver-
Sified, and his account of his thoughts and occupations so distinctly traced,
that the course of the work embraces a far wider circle of investigation into
human nature, than could be derived from that of Selkirk, who, for want of
the tools and conveniences supplied to Crusoe by the wreck, relapses into a
sort of savage state, which could have afforded little scope for delineation.
It may, however, be observed, that De Foe may have known so much of
Selkirk’s history, as to be aware how much his stormy passions were
checked and tamed by his long course of solitude, and that, from being a
kind of Will Atkins, a brawling dissolute seaman, he became (which was
certainly the case) a grave, sober, reflective man. The manner in which
Robinson Crusoe’s moral sense and religious feeling are awakened and
brought into action, are important passages in the work.

Amid these desultory remarks, it may be noticed, that, through all hig
romances, De Foe has made a great deal of the narrative depend upon lucky
hits and accidents, which, as he is usually at some pains to explain, ought
rather to be termed providential occurrences. This is coupled with a belief
in spiritual communication in the way of strong internal suggestions, to
which De Foe, as we have Seen, was himself sufficiently willing to yield
belief. Odd and surprising accidents do, indeed, frequently occur in human
life; and when we hear them narrated, we are interested in them, not only
from the natural tendency of the human mind towards the extraordinary
some disposition to receive as
truths circumstances, which, from their improbability, do not seem likely to
be invented. It is the kind of good fortune, too, which every one wishes to

i comes without exertion, and just at the moment it is wanted;
So that it gives a sort of pleasure to be reminded of the possibility of its
arrival even in fiction.

The continuation of Leobinson Crusoe’s history, after he obtains the society
of his man Friday, is less philosophical than that which turns our thoughts
upon the efforts which a solitary individual may make for extending his own
comforts in the melancholy situation in which he is placed, and upon the
natural reflections Suggested by the progress of his own mind. The char-
acter of Friday is nevertheless extremely pleasing; and the whole subsequent
history of the shipwrecked Spaniards, and the pirate vessel, is highly inter-
esting. Here certainly the Memoirs of Robinson Crusoe ought to have
stopped. The Second Part, though containing many passages which dis-
play the author’s genius, does not rise high in character above the Memoirs
of Captain Singleton, or the other imaginary voyages of the author.

There scarce exists a work so popular as Robinson Crusoe. It is read
eagerly by young people; and there is hardly an elf so devoid of imagina-
tion, as not to have Supposed for himself a solitary isWITH AN ESSAY ON HIS GENIUS. xxiii
and Robinson Crusoe produces the same impression upon an adventurous
spirit, which the Book of Martyrs would do on a young devotee, or the New-
gate Calendar upon an acolyte of Briddewell; both of which students are
less terrified by the horrible manner in which the tale terminates, than
animated by sympathy with the saints or depredators who are the heroes
of their volume. Neither does a re-perusal of Robinson Crusoe, at a more
advanced age, diminish our early impressions. The situation is such as
every man may make his own, and, being possible in itself, is, by the exqui-
site art of the narrator, rendered as probable as ‘it is interesting. It has
the merit, too, of that species of accurate painting which can be looked at
again and again with new pleasure.

Neither has the admiration of the work been confined to England, though
Robinson Crusoe himself, with his rough good sense, his prejudices, and
his obstinate determination not to sink under evils which can be surpassed
by exertion, forms no bad specimen of the True-Born Englishman. The
rage for imitating a work so popular seems to have risen to a degree of
frenzy ; and, by a mistake not peculiar to this particular class of the servwm
pecus, the imitators did not attempt to apply De Foe’s manner of managing
the narrative to some situation of a different kind, but seized upon and cari-
catured the principal incidents of the shipwrecked mariner and the solitary
Island. It is computed that within forty years from the appearance of the
original work, no less than forty-one different Robinsons appeared, besides
fifteen other imitations, in which other titles were used. Finally, though
perhaps it is no great recommendation, the anti-social philosopher Rous-
seau will allow no other book than Robinson Crusce in the hands of Emilius,
Upon the whole, the work is as unlikely to lose its celebrity as it is to be
equalled in its peculiar character by any other of similar excellence.

 

|

AR
ANS
(Seat
i —ROBINSON CRUSOE

{ was born in the year 1632, in the city of York, of a gooa
family, though not of that country, my father being a foreign-
er of Bremen, who settled first at Hull: he got a good estate
by merchandise, and leaving off his trade, lived afterwards at
York; from whence he had married my mother, whose rela-
tions were named Robinson, a very good family in that coun-
try, and from whom I was called Robinson Kreutznaer ; but,
by the usual corruption of words in England, we are now
called, nay we call ourselves, and write our name, Crusoe; and
so my companions always called me.

I had two elder brothers, one of whom was lieutenant-colo-
nel to an English regiment of foot in Flanders, formerly com-
manded by the famous Colonel Lockhart, and was lied. at the
battle near Dunkirk against the Spaniards. What became of
my second brother I never knew, any more than my father or
mother did know what was become of me.

Being the third son of the family, and not bred to any trade,
ny head began to be filled very early with rambling thoughts :

  
 
  
   
   
  
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  

oe2 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
my father, who was very ancient, had given me a competent
share of learning, as far as house-education and a country free-
school generally go, and designed me for the law; but I would
be satistied with nothing but going to sea; and my inclination
to this led me so strongly against the will, nay, the commands
of my father, and against all the entreaties and persuasions of
my mother and other friends, that there seemed to be some-
thing fatal in that propension of nature, tending directly to the
life of misery which was to befall me.
My father, a wise and grave man, gave me serious and ex-
cellent counsel against what he foresaw was my design. tie
called me one morning into his chamber, where he was con-
fined by the gout, and expostulated very warmly with me
upon this subject: he asked me what reasons, more than a
mere wandering inclination, I had for leaving my father’s
house and-my native country, where | might be well intro-
duced, and had a prospect of raising my fortune by applica-
tion and industry, with a life of ease and pleasure. He told
me it was for men of desperate fortunes on one hand, or of as-
piring,.superior fortunes on the other, who went-abroad-upon
adventures, to rise by enterprisé, and make themselves famous
~urundertakings of a nature out of the-common road ; that these
things were all either too far above me, or too-far-below ine ;
that mine was the middle state, or-what might be called the

_upper_ station of low hfe, which he had found, by tongrexpe-
rience, was the best~state in the world, the most suited to
human happiness, not exposed to the miseries and hardships,
the labor and sufferings of the mechanic part of mankind, and
not embarrassed with the pride, luxury, ambition, and envy
of the upper part of mankind. He told me I might judge of
the happiness of this state by one thing, viz. that this was the
state of life which all other people envied; that kings have
frequently lamented the miserable consequences of being born
to great things, and wish they had been placed in the middle
of the two extremes, between the mean and the great; that the
wise man gave his testimony to this, as the just standard of
true felicity, when he prayed to have neither poverty nor
riches.

He bid me observe it, and I should always find, that the ca-
lamities of life were shared among the upper and lower part
ot nankind; but that the middle station had the fewest disas-
ters, and was not exposed to so many vicissitudes as the higher
or lower ee of mankind; nay, they were not subjected to
so many distempers and uneasinesses, either of body or mind,
as those were, who, by vicious living, luxury, and extrava-
gances, on one hand, or by hard labor, want of necessaries,

and mean and insuflicient diet, on the other hand, bring dis-
tempers upon themselves by the natural consequences of theirROBINSON GRUSOE. 3
way of living; that the middle station of life was calculated for
all kind of virtues and all kind of enjoyments; that peace and
plenty were the handmaids of a middle fortune; that tem-
pes moderation, quietness, health, society, all agreeable

iversions, and all desirable pleasures, were the blessings at-
tending the middle station of life; that this way men went si-
lently and smoothly through the world, and comfortably out
of it, not embarrassed with the labors of the hands or of the
head, not sold to the life of slavery for daily bread, or harassed
with perplexed circumstances, which rob the soal of peace,
and the body of rest; not enraged with the passion of envy, or
secret burning lust of ambition for great things; but, in easy
circumstances, sliding gently through the world, and sensibly
tasting the sweets of living, without the bitter, feeling that they
are happy, and learning by every day’s experience to know it
more sensibly,

After this, he pressed me earnestly, and in the most affec-
tionate manner, not to play the young man, not to precipitate
myself into miseries which nature, and the station of life i was
born in, seemed to have provided against; that I was under no
necessity of seeking my bread; that he would do well for me,
and endeavor to enter me fairly into the station of life which
he had been just recommending to me; and that if { was not
very easy and happy in the world, it must be my mere fate or
fault that must hinder it; and that he should have nothing ta
answer for, having thus discharged his duty in warning me
against measures which he knew would be to my hurt; ina
word, that as he would do very kind things for me if I would
stay and settle at home as he directed, so he would not have so
much hand in my misfortunes, as to give me any encourage-
ment to go away ; and, to close all, he told me I had my elder
brother for an example, to whom he had used the same earnest
persuasions to keep him from going into the Low Country
wars, but could not prevail, his young desires prompting him
to run into the army, where he was killed ; and though he said
he would not cease to pray for me, yet he would venture to
say to me, that if I did take this foolish step, God would not
bless me, and I would have leisure hereafter to reflect upon
having neglected his counsel, when there might be none to
assist In my recovery.

I observed in this last part of his discourse, which was truly
prophetic, though I suppose my father did not know it to be
so himself; I say, I observed the tears run down his face very
plentifully, and especially when he spoke of my brother who
was killed; and that when he spoke of my having leisure to
repent, and none to assist me, he was so moved, that he broke
off the discourse, and told me, his heart was so full he could
say no more to me.4 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

I was sincerely affected with this discourse, as indeed who
could be otherwise? and I resolved not to think of going
abroad any more, but to settle at home according to my father’s
desire. But, alas! a few days wore it all off; and, in short, to
prevent any of my father’s further importunities, In a few weeks
after I resolved to run quite away from him. However, I did
not act so hastily, neither, as my first heat of resolution

rompted, but I took my mother, at a time when [ though?
ier a little pleasanter than ordinary, and told her, that my
thourhts were so entirely bent upon seeing the world, that
I should never settle to any thing with resolution enough to
go through with it, and my father had better give me his con-
sent, than force me to go without it; that 1 was now eighteen
years old, which was too late to go apprentice toa trade, or
clerk to an attorney; that I was sure, if I did, I should ne er
serve out my time, and I should certainly run away from my
inaster before my time was out, and go to sea; and if she
would speak to my father to let me go one voyage abroad, if I
came home again, and did not like it, I would go no more,
and I would promise, by a double diligence, to recover that
time I had lost.

This put my mother into a great passion: she told me she
knew it would be to no purpose to speak to my father upon
any such subject; that he knew too well what was my interest
to give his consent to any such thing so much for my hurt ;
and that she wondered how I could think of any such thing
after such a discourse as I had had with my father, and such
kind and tender expressions as she knew my father had used
to me; and that, in short, if 1 would ruin myself, there was no
help for me; but I might depend I should never have their
consent to it; that for her part, she would not have so much
hand in my destruction; and I should never have it to say,
that my mother was willing when my father was not.

Though my mother refused to move it to my father, yet, as
T have heard afterwards, she reported all the discourse to him,
and that my father, after showing a great concern at it, said
to her with a sigh, “That boy might be happy if he would
stay at home; but if he goes abroad, he will be the most
miserable wretch that was ever born; I can give no con-
sent to it.”

It was not till almost a year after this that I broke loose,
though, in the mean time, I continued obstinately deaf to all
proposals of settling to business, and frequently expostulating
with my father and mother about their being so positively de-
termined against what they knew my inclinations prompted
me to. But being one day at Hull, where I went casually,
and without any purpose of making an elopement at that time;
but, I say, being there, ard one of my companions then goingROBINSON CRUSOR. 5
py sea to London, in his father’s ship, and prompting me to
go with them, with the common allurement of sea-faring men,
viz. that it should cost me nothing for my passage, I consulted
neither father or mother any more, not so much as sent them
word of it; but leaving them to hear of it as they might, with-
out asking God’s blessing, or my father’s, without any consid-
eration of circumstances or Consequences, and in an ill hour,
God knows, on the first of September, 1651, I went on board
a ship bound for London. Never any young adventurer’s
misfortunes, I believe, began sooner, or continued longer than
mine. The ship was no sooner gotten out of the Humber, but
the wind began to blow, and the waves to rise in a most fright-
ful manner; and, as I had never been at sea before, I was
most inexpressibly sick in body, and terrified in mind. I be-
gan now seriously to reflect upon what I had done, and how
justly I was overtaken by the judgment of Heaven for wick-
edly leaving my father’s house, and abandoning my duty. All
the good counsel of my parents, my father’s tears and my
mother’s entreaties, came now fresh into my mind; and my
conscience, which was not yet come to the pitch of hardness
to which it has been since, reproached me with the contempt
of advice, and the breach of my duty to God and my father.
All this while the storm increased, and the sea, which I had
1ever been upon before, went very high, though nothing like
what I have seen many times since; no, nor like what | saw

a few days after: but it was enough to affect me then, who
was but a young sailor, and had never known any thing of the
matter. J expected every wave would have swallowed us up,
and that every time the ship fell down, as I thought, in the
trough or hollow of the sea, we should never rise more; and in
this agony of mind I made many vows and resolutions, that if
it would please God here to spare my life this one voyage, 1
ever I got once my foot upon dry land again, I would go di-
rectly horne to my father, and never set it into a ship again
while I lived; that I would take his advice, and never run my-
self into such miseries as these any more. Now I saw plainly
the goodness of J observations about the middle station of
life, how easy, h: v comfortably he had lived all his days, and
never had been exposed to tempests at sea, or troubles on
shore; and I resolved that I would, like a true repenting prod-
igal, go home to my father.

-'TLese wise and sober thoughts continued during the storm
and, indeed, some time after; but the next day, as the winc
was abated, and the sea calmer, I began to be a little inured
to it: however, I was very grave for all that day, being also a
little sea-sick still; but towards night the weather cleared up,
the wind was quite over, and a charming fine evening followed ;
the sun went down perfectly clear, and rose so the next morn-

>

buen!

ee6 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

ing; and having little or no wind, and a smooth sea, the sun
shining upon it, the sight was, as | thought, the most delight-
ful that I ever saw. :

I had slept well in the night, and was now no more sea-sick,
but very cheerful, looking with wonder upon the sea, that was
so rough and terrible the day before, and could be so calm
and so pleasant in a little time after. And now, lest my good
resolutions should continue, my companion, who had, indeed,
enticed me away, came to me and said, ‘‘ Well, Bob,” clap-
ping me on the shoulder, “ how do you do after it? I warrant
you were frightened, wa’n’t you, last night, when it blew but
a cap-full of wimd?’”—‘ A cap-full do you call it?” said 1:
“it was a terrible storm.’”’—“ iy storm, you fool you,” replied
he,‘‘ do you call that a storm? why, it was nothing at all; give
us but a good ship and sea-room, and we think nothing of such
a squall of wind as that; but you’re but a fresh-water sailor,
Bob. Come, let us make a bowl of punch, and we’ll forget
all that; do you see what charming weather it is now?” 'T'o
make short this sad part of my story, we went the old way of
all sailors; the punch was made, and I was made drunk with
it; and in that one night’s wickedness I drowned all my re-
pentance, all my reflections upon my past conduct, and all
my resolutions for my future. In a word, as the sea was re-
turned to its smoothness of surface and settled calmness by
the abatement of that storm, so, the hurry of my thoughts being
over, my fears and apprehensions of being swallowed up
by the sea being forgotten, and the current of my former de-
sires returned, [ entirely forgot the vows and promises that |
made in my distress. I found, indeed, some intervals of re-
flection; and serious thoughts did, as it were, endeavor to
return again sometimes; but I shook them off, and roused
myself from them as it were from a distemper, and applying
myself to drinking and company, soon mastered the return of
those fits, for so I called them; and I had in five or six davs
got as complete a victory over conscience, as any young
fellow, that resolved not to be troubled with it, could desire :
put I was to have another trial for it still; and Providence, as
in such cases generally it does, resolved to leave me entirely
without excuse; for if I would not take this for a deliverance,
the next was to be such a one as the worst and most hardened
wretch among us would confess both the danger and the
inercy of. ;

rN : . ‘

Ihe sixth day of our being at sea, we came into Yarmouth
Roads; the wind having been contrary, and the weather calm,
we had made but little way since the storm. Here we were
obliged to come to anchor, and here we lay, the wind contin-
ulng contrary, viz. at south-west, for seven or eight days,
during which time a great many ships from Newcastle cameROBINSON CRUSOR. 7

inte the same roads, as the common harbor where the ships
might wait for a wind for the River.

We had not, however, rid here so lon , but should have
tided it up the river, but that the wind ieee too fresh; and,
after we had lain four or five days, blew very hard. However,
the roads being reckoned as good as a harbor, the anchorage
good, and our ground tackle very strong, our men were un-
concerned, and not in the least apprehensive of danger, bu
spent the time in rest and mirth, after the manner of the sea;
but the eighth day in the morning the wind increased, and we
had all hands at work to strike our top-masts, and make every
thing snug and close, that the ship might ride as easy as pos
sible. By noon the sea went very high indeed, and our ship
rode forecastle in, shipped several seas, and we thought once
or twice our anchor had ‘come home ; upon which our master
ordered out the sheet anchor; so that we rode with two an-
chors ahead, and the cables veered out to the better end.

By this time it blew a terrible storm indeed ; and now I be-
gan to see terror and amazement in the faces even of the sea-
men themselves. ‘The master, though vigilant in the business
of preserving the ship, yet as he went in and out of his cabin
by me, I could hear him softly say to himself several times,
“‘ Lord, be merciful to us! we shall be all lost; we shall be all
undone!” and the like. During these first hurries I was
stupid, lying still in my cabin, which was in the steerage, and
cannot describe my temper: I could ill reassume the first

enitence which I had so apparently trampled upon, and
Earlene myself against: I thought the bitterness of death
had been past, and that this would be nothing like the first ;
but when the master himself came by me, as I said just now,
and said we should be all lost, I was dreadfully frighted : I got
up out of my cabin, and looked out; but such a dismal sight
I never saw; the sea went mountains high, and broke upon
us every three or four minutes: when I could look about, 1
could see nothing but distress around us: two ships that rid
near us, we found, had cut their masts by the board, being
deep laden; and our men cried out, that a ship which rid
about a mile ahead of us was foundered. Two more ships,
being driven from their anchors, were run out of the roads to
sea, at all adventures, an¢@ that with not a mast standing.
The light ships fared the best, as not so much laboring in the
sea; but two or three of them drove, and came close by US,
running away with only their spritsail out before the wind.

Towards evening, the mate and boatswain begged the mas-
ter of our ship to let them cut away the fore-mast, which he
was very unwilling to do; but the boatswain protesting to him
that if he did not, the ship would founder, he consented ; an
when they had cut away the foremast, the main-mast stood so& ROBINSON CRUSOE.

-oose, and shook the ship so much, they were obliged to cut
her away also, and make a clear deck. '

Any one may judge what a condition I must be im at all
this, who was but a young sailor, and who had been in such
a fright before at but-a little. But if I can express at this
distance the thoughts that I had about me at that time, t was
in tenfold more horror of mind upon account of my former
convictions, and the having returned from them to the resolu-
tions I had wickedly taken at first, than I was at death itself;
and these, added to the terror of the storm, put me In such
condition, that I can by no words describe it. But the worst
was not come yet; the storm continued with such fury, that
the seamen themselves acknowledged they had never known a
worse. We had a good ship, but she was deep laden, and
wallowed in the sea, that the seamen every now and then cried
out, she would founder. It was my advantage in one respect,
that I did not know what they meant by founder, till 1 in-
quired. However, the storm was so violent, that I saw wha
is not often seen, the master, the boatswain, and some othe
more sensible than the rest, at their prayers, and expecti
every moment when the ship would go to the bottom. In tl
middle of the night, and under all the rest of our distresses
one of the men that had been down on purpose to see, cried
out, we had sprung a leak; another said, there was four foot
water in the hold. Then all hands were called to the pump.
At.that very word, my heart, as I thought, died within me, and
I fell backwards upon the side of my bed, where I sat, into the
cabin. However, the men roused me, and told me, that I, that
was able to do nothing before, was as well able to pump as
another; at which I stirred up, and went to the pump, and
worked very heartily. While this was doing, the master,
seeing some light colliers, who, not able to ride out the storm,
were obliged to slip and run away to sea, and would not come
near us, ordered us to fire a gun as a signal of distress. I,
who knew nothing what that meant, was so surprised, that I
thought the ship had broke, or some dreadful thing had hap-
pened. In a word, f was so surprised, that I fell down ina
swoon. As this was a time when every body had his own life
io think of, nobody minded me, or what was become of me;
but another man stepped up to the pump, and, thrusting me
thinking I had been dead; and

©

I
h
1

OU wm

aside with his foot, let me he

  

. > ‘3
it was a great while before I came to myself.
y

e

 

Ve worked on; but the water increasing in the hold, it was
apparent that the ship would founder; and though the storm
began to abate a little, yet as it was not possible she could

’
swim till we might run into a port, so the master continued
[
7

  

p; and a light ship, who had rid it out just

i
ahead of us, ventured a boat out to help us. It was with theROBINSON CRUSOE, 5

utmost hazard the boat came near us; but it was impossible
for us to get on board, or for the boat to lie near the ship’s side,
fill at last, the men rowing very heartily, and venturing their
lives to save ours, our men cast them a rope over the stern
with a buoy to it, and then veered it out a great length, which
they, after great labor and hazard, took hold of, and we hauled
them close under our stern, and got all inte their boat. It was
‘o BO purpose for them or us, after we were in the boat, to
inink of reaching to their own ship; so all agreed to let her
drive, and only to pull her in towards shore as much as we
could; and our master promised them, that if the boat was
staved upon shore, he would make it good to their master; so,
partly rowing and partly driving, our boat went away to the
northward, sloping towards the shore almost as far as Winter-
ton Ness.

We were not much more than a quarter of an hour out of
our ship but we saw her sink, and then I understood for the
first time what was meant by a ship foundering in the sea, [
must acknowledge [ had hardly eyes to look up when the sea-
men told me she was sinking; for from that moment they
rather put me into the boat, than that I might be said to £0
in: my heart was, as it were, dead within me, partly with
fright, partly with horror of mind, and the thoughts of what
was yet before me.

Vhile we were in this condition, the men yet laboring at
1€ oar to bring the boat near the shore, we could see (when,
ur boat mounting the waves, we were able to see the shore)

t many people running along the strand to assist us

ner, and so the land broke off a little the
1e wind. Here we got in, and, though not with-

 

;
A
out mucl

difficulty, got all safe on shore, and walked after-
wards on foot to Yarmouth, where, as unfortunate men, we

were used with great humanity, as well by the magistrates of
the town, who assigned us good quarters, as by particula:
inerchants and owners of ships, and had money given us

1] +t} | aele L171] 2c we
sufficient to carry us either to London or back to Hull, as we

t tte
tnought fit.

  

Pat T vein thc an 4 I awa oe r he ok to ill sack
Hiad I now had the sense to have gone back to Hu , and
have gone home, | had been nappy, and my father, an emblem
a a : : 7 rm : i C. al olf
of our blessed Savior’s parable, had even killed the fatted calf

 

7

ior me; for hearing the ship I went away in was cast away
in Yarmouth Roads, it was a great while before he had any as-

 

surance that I was not drowned.
WPF - Ate goer ere. o xs
But my ill fate pushed me on now with an obstinacy that
nothing could resist; and though J had several times loud’calls10 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

from imy reason, and my more eo ee judgment, to go
home, yet I had no power to do it. I know not what to call
this, nor will I urge that it is a secret overruling decree that
hurries us on to be the instruments of our own destruction,
even though it be before us, and that we rush upon it with our
eyes open. Certainly, nothing but some such decreed un-
avoidable misery attending, and which it was impossible for
me to escape, could have pushed me forward against the calm
reasonings and persuasions of my most retited thoughts, and
against two such visible instructions as [ had met with in my
hrst attempt. ;

My comradr, who had helped to harden me before, and who
was the master’s son, was now less forward than |, The first
time he spoke te me after we were at Yarmouth, which was
not till two or three days, for we were separated in the town
to several quarters; I say, the first time he saw me, it ap-
peared his tone was altered, and, looking very melancholy, and
shaking his head, asked me how I did, and telling his father
who | was, and how I had come this voyage only for a trial,
in order to go farther abroad: his father turning te me with a
very grave and concerned tone, ‘“ Young man,” says he,
“you ought never to go to sea any more; you ought to take
this for a plain and visible token that you are not to be a sea-
faring man.”—‘‘ Why, sir,” said I, “will you go to sea no
more ?’’—‘* T’hat is another case,” said he; ‘it is my calling,
and therefore my duty; but as you made this voyage for a
trial, you see what a taste Heaven has given you of what you
are to expect if you persist. Perhaps this has all befallen us
on your account, like Jonah in the ship of Tarshish. Pray,”
continues he, ‘‘ what are you; and on what account did you
go to sea?” Upon that I told him some of my story; at the
end of which he burst out with a strange kind of passion;
“ What had I done,” says he, “ that such an unhappy wretch
should come into my ship? I would not set my foot in the
same ship with thee again for a thousand pounds.” This, in-
deed, was, as I said, an excursion of his spirits, which were
yet agitated by the sense of his loss, and was farther than he
could have authority to go. However, he afterwards talked
very gravely to me, exhorting me to go back to my father, and
not tempt Providence to my ruin; told me I might see a vis-
ible hand of Heaven against me. ‘And, young man,” said
he, ‘depend upon it, # you do not go back, wherever vou £0
you will meet with nothing but disasters and disappointments,
tull your father’s words are fulfilled upon yous: : ;

We parted soon after; for I made him little answer, and I
Saw him no more: which way he went, I know not. As for
me, having some money in my pocket, [ travelled to London

by Jand: and there, as well as on the road, had many strug

eeROBINSON CRUSOR. ll

gles with myself, what course of life I should take, and
whether I should go home, or go to sea.

As to going home, shame opposed the best notions that offer-
ed te my thoughts; and it immediately occurred to me how I
should be laughed at among the neighbors, and should be
ashamed to see, not my father and mother only, but even
every body else; from whence I have since eften observed,
how incongruous and irrational the common temper of man-
kind is, especially of youth, to that reason which ought to
guide them in such cases, viz. that they are not ashamcd to
sin, and yet are ashamed to repent; nor ashamed of the action
for which they ought justly to be esteemed fools, but are
ashamed ef the returning, which only can make them be es-
teemed wise men.

In this state of life, however, I remained some time, uncer-
tain what measures to take, and what course of life to lead. ~
An irresistible reluctance continued to going heme; and as I
staid awhile, the remembrance of the distress I had been in
wore off; and as that abated, the little notion I had in my de-
sires to a return wore off with it, till at last I quite laid aside
the thoughts of it, and leoked out for a voyage,

That evil influence which carried me first away from my
father’s house, that hurried me into the wild and indigested
notion of raising my fortune; and that impressed those con-
ceits so forcibly upon me, as to make me deaf to all good ad-
vice, and to the entreaties and even the commands of my
father; I say, the same influence, whatever it was, presented
the mest unfortunate of all enterprises to my view; and I
went on board a vessel bound to the coast of Africa; or, as our
sailors vidgarly call it, a voyage to Guinea.

It was my great misfortune that in all these adventures I
did net ship myself as a sailor; whereby, though | might in-
deed have worked a little harder than ordinary, yet at the
same time | had learnt the duty and office of a foremast-man ;
and in time might have qualified myself for a mate or lieuten-
ant, if not fer a master. But as it was always my fate to
ehoose for the worse, so I did here; for, having money in my
pocket, and good clothes upon my back, I would always go
on board in the habit of a gentleman; and so I neither had
any business in the ship or learnt to do any.

it was my lot first of all to fall into pretty good company in
London, which dees not always happen to such loose and un
guided young fellows as I then was; the devil generally not
omitting to lay some snare for them very early: but it was not
so with me. I first fell acquainted with the master of a ship
who had been on the coast of Guinea; and who, having had
very good success there, was resolved to go again; and who,
taking a fancy te my conversation, which was not at all dis-12 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

agreeable at that time, hearing me say I had a mind to see the
world, told me if I would go the voyage with him, I should be
at no expense; | should be his messmate and his.companion ;
and if I could carry any thing with me, I should have all the
advantage of it that the trade would admit; and perhaps I
might meet with some encouragement.

Peiaieaced the offer; and entering into a strict friendship
with this captain, who was an honest and plain-dealing man,
I went the voyage with him, and carried a small adventure
with me, which, by the disinterested honesty of my friend the
captain, I increased very considerably; for f carrie
£40 in such toys and trifles as the captain directe
This £40 I had mustered together by the assi
of my relations whom | corresponded with, and w
got my father, or at least my mother, to contribute :
that to my first adventure.

This was the only voyage in which I may say i wassu
ful in all my adventures, and which I owe to the integrit
honesty of my friend the captain; under whom
competent knowledge of the mathematics and the
navigation, learnt how to keep an account of the
course, take an observation, and, in short, to understanc
things that were needful to be understood by a sailor; f
he took delight to instruct me, I took delight to learn; and, in
a word, this voyage made me both a sailor and a merchant
for | brought home five pounds nine ounces of gold-dust tor
my adventure, which yielded me, in London, at my return, a!
most £300; and this filled me with those aspiring thoughts
which have so completed my ruin. : ‘

Yet even in this voyage I had my misfortunes too; particu-
larly that I was continually sick, being thrown into a violent
calenture by the excessive heat of the climate; our principal
trading being upon the coast, from the latitude of 15 degrees
north even to the line itself. >

I was now set up for a Guinea trader; and my friend, to
my great misfortune, dying soon after his arrival. I res
to go the same voyage again; and I embarked in the same
vessel with one who was his mate in his former voyage, and
had now got the command of the ship. This was the unhap-
piest voyage that ever man made; for though 1 did not carr
gute £100 of my new-gained wealth, so that I had £200 left,
and which I lodged with my friend’s widow, who was very
just to me, yet I fell into terrible misfortunes in this voyage:
and the first was this, viz. our ship, making her course towards
the Canary Islands, or rather between those islands and the
African shore, was surprised, in the gray of the morning, by a
Turkish rover, of Sallee, who gave chase to us with all the
sail she could make. We crowded also as much canvass as

about
o buy

some

tho, I beheve,

so much as

~

    
 
 
  

  

y ve GROBINSON CRUSOR. 13

our yards would spread, or our masts carry, to have got clear;
but finding the pirate gained upon us, and would certainly
come up with us in a few hours, we prepared to fight; our
ship having twelve guns, and the rover eighteen. About three
in the afternoon, he came up with us, an bringing to, by mis-
take, just athwart our quarter, instead of athwart our stern, as
he intended, we brought eight of our guns to bear on that
side, and poured in a broadside upon him, which made him
sheer off again, after returning our fire, and pouring in also
his small-shot from near 200 men, which he had on board.
However, we had not a man touched, all our men keeping
close. He prepared to attack us again, and we to defend our.
selves; but laying us on board, the next time, upon our other

uarter, he entered sixty men upon our decks, who imme.
diately fell to cutting and hacking the sails and rigging, We
plied them with small-shot, half-pikes, powder-chests, and such
like, and cleared our deck of them twice. However, to cut
short this melancholy part of our story, our ship being dis-
abled, and three of our men killed and eight wounded, we were
obliged to yield, and were carried all prisoners into Sallee, a
port belonging to the Moors.

The usage | had there was not so dreadful as at first I ap-
prehended; nor was I carried up the country to the emperor’s
court, as the rest of our men were, but was kept by the cap-
tain of the rover as his proper prize, and made his slave, being
young and nimble, and fit for his business. At this surprising
change of my circumstances, from a merchant to a miserable
slave, 1 was perfectly overwhelmed; and now I looked back
upon my father’s prophetic discourse to me, that I should be
miserable, and have none to relieve me, which I thought was
now so effectually brought to pass, that [ could not be worse;
that now the hand of Heaven had overtaken me, and I was un-
done without redemption; but, alas! this was but a taste of
the misery I was to go through, as will appear in the sequel
of this story. ste ak

As my new patron, or master, had taken me home to his
house, so | was in hopes that he would take me with him when
he went to sea again, believing that it would some time or other
be his fate to be taken by a Spanish or Portuguese man of war ;
and that then I should be set at hberty. But this hope of mine
was soon taken away; for when he went to sea, he left me on
shore to look after his little garden, and do the common drudg-
ery of slaves about his house; and when he came home again
from his cruise, he ordered me to lie in the cabin to look after
the ship. ‘ “a

Here I meditated nothing but my escape, and what method
I might take to effect it, but found no way that had the least
probability in it: nothing presented to make the supposition14 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

of it rational; for I had nobody to communicate it to that would
embark with me, no fellow-slave, no Englishman, Irishman,
or Scotchman there but myself; so that for two years, though
{ often pleased myself: with the imagination, yet I never had
the least encouraging prospect of putting it in practice, —

After about two years, an odd circumstance presented itself,
which put the old thought of making some attempt for my
liberty again in my head. My patron lying at home longeix
than usual without fitting out his ship, which, as I heard, was
for want of money, he used constantly, once or twice a week,
sometimes oftener, if the weather was fair, to take the ship’s
pinnace, and go out into the road a-fishing; and as he always
took me and a young Moresco with him to row the boat, we
made him very merry, and I proved very dexterous in catch-
ing fish; insomuch that sometimes he would send me with a
Moor, one. of his kinsmen, and the youth of Moresco, as they
called him, to catch a dish of fish for him. :

It happened one time, that going a-fishing in a stark calm
morning, a fog rose so thick, that, though we were not half a
league from the shore, we lost sight of it; and, rowing we knew
not whither or which way, we labored all day, and all the next
night; and when the morning came, we found we had pulled
off to sea instead of pulling in for the shore; and that we were
at least two leagues from the shore: however, we got well in
again, though with a great deal of labor, and some danger ;
for the wind began to blow pretty fresh in the morning; but
particularly we were all very hungry.

But our patron, warned by this disaster, resolved to take
more care of himself for the future; and having lying by him
the long-boat of our English ship he had taken, he resolved he
would not go a-fishing any more without a compass and some
provision: so he ordered the carpenter of his ship, who also
was an English slave, to build a little state-room, or cabin, in
the middle of the long-boat, like that of a barge, with a place
to stand behind xt to steer and haul home the main-sheet; and
room before for a hand or two to stand and work the sails: she
sailed with what we call a shoulder of mutton sail; and the
boom gibbed over the top of the cabin, which lay very snug
and low, and had in it room for him to he, with a slave or two,
and a table to eat on, with some small lockers to put in some
bottles of such liquor as he thought fit to drink; and particu-
larly his bread, rice, and coffee.

We went frequently out with this boat a-fishing, and as I]
was most dexterous to catch fish for him, he never went with-
out me. It happened that he had appointed to go out in this
boat, either for pleasure or for fish, with two or three Moors
of some distinction in that place, and for whom he had provi-
ded extraordinarily, and had therefore sent on board the boatROBINSON CRUSOE. 15

over-night a larger store of provisions than ordinary ; and had
ordered me to get ready three fuzees with powder and shot,
which were on board his ship; for that they designed some
sport of fowling as well as fishing.

I got all things ready as he faa directed, and waited the
next morning with the boat washed clean, her ensign and
pendants out, and every thing to accommodate his guests ;
when, by and by, my patron came on board alone, and told me
his guests had put off going, upon some business that fell out,
jand ordered me, with the man and boy, as usual, to go out
jwith the boat and catch them some fish, for that his friends
‘were to sup at his house; and commanded that as soon as |
got some fish I should bring it home to his house; all which L
prepared to do.

This moment my former notions of deliverance darted into
my thoughts, for now | found I was like to have a little ship at
my command; and my master being gone, | prepared to fur-
nish myself, not for fishing business, but for a voyage; though
i knew not, neither did 1 so much as consider, whither I
should steer; for any where, to get out of that place, was
my way. ;

My first contrivance was to make a pretence to speak to
this Moor, to get something for our subsistence on board ; for
{ told him we must not vresume to eat of our patron’s bread:
he said, that was true; so he brought a large basket of rusk
or biscuit of their kind, and three jars with fresh water, into
the boat. I knew where my patron’s case of bottles stood,
which, it was evident by the make, were taken out of some
English prize, and I conveyed them into the boat while the
Moor was on shore, as if they had been there before for our

master: I conveyed also a great lump of bees-wax into the
boat, which weighed above half a hundred weight, with a par-
cel of twine or thread, a hatchet, a saw, and a hammer, all
which were of great use to us afterwards, especially the wax
‘to make candles, Another trick I tried upon him, which he
innocently came into also: his name was Ismael, whom they
call Muley, or Moley; so I called him; “ Moley,” said I
‘“our patron’s guns are on board the boat; can you not get a
little powder and shot? it may be we may kill some alcamies
(a fowl like our curlews) for ourselves, for I know he keeps
the gunner’s stores in the ship.” —“ Yes,” says he, “I'll bring
some;’’ and accordingly he brought a great leather pouch,
which held about a pound and a half of powder, or rather
more; and another with shot, that had five or six pounds, with
some bullets, and put all into the boat: at the same time I had
found some powder of my master’s in the great cabin, with
which I filled one of the large bottles in the case, which was
almost empty, pouring what was in it into another; and thusROBINSON CRUSUE.

 

furnished with every thing needful, we sailed out of the port
to fish. The castle, which is, at the entrance of the port,
kn2w who we were, and took no notice of us: and we were
not above a mile out of the port before we hauled in our sail,
and set us down to fish. The wind blew from the N.N.E.
which was contrary to my desire; for had it blown southerly,
I had been sure to have made the coast of Spain, and at least
reached to the bay of Cadiz; but my resolutions were, blow
which way it would, I would be gone from that horrid place
where I was, and leave the rest to fate.

After we had fished some time and catched nothing, for
when I had fish on my hook I would not pull them up, that }
might not see them, [ said to the Moor, “‘ This will not do
our master will not be thus served; we must stand farther off?
He, thinking no harm, agreed, and, being in the head of the
boat, set the sails; and as I had the helm, I run the boat out
near a league farther, and then brought her to as if I would
fish; when, giving the boy the helm, I stepped forward to
where the Moor was, and making as if I stooped for something
behind him, I took him by surprise with my arm under his
to the sea. He rose

+e

A
1e
a

t
t
oO

waist, and tossed him clear overboard in
eo eitely, for he swam like a cork, and called to me, begeed
to be taken im, told me he would go all over the world with me.
He swam so Strong alter the boat, that he would have reachedROBINSON CRUSOE. 17

me very quickly, there being but little wind; upon which [
stepped into the cabin, and fetching one of the fowling-pieces,
I presented it at him, and told him, I had done him no hurt,
and if he would be quiet, ! would do him none: “ But,” said I,
“you swim well enough to reach to the shore, and the sea ig
caim ; make the best of your way to shore, and I will do you
no harm; butif you come near the boat, I’ll shoot you through
the head, for I am resolved to have my liberty :”’ so he tumed
himself about, and swam for the shore, and I make no doubt
but he reached it with ease, for he’ was an excellent swimmer.

I could have been content to have taken this Moor with me,
and have drowned the boy, but there was no venturing to
trust him. When he was gone, I turned to the boy, whom
they called Kury, andi-sail to him, “ Xury, if you will be
faithful to me, I'll make you a great man; but if you*will not
stroke your face to be true to me,” that is, swear by Mahomet
and his father’s beard, ‘I must throw you into the sea too.”
‘The boy smiled in my face, and spoke so innocently, that I
could not mistrust him; and swore to be faithful to me, and go
all over the world with me.

While I was in view of the Moor that was swimming, I stood
out directly to sea with the boat, rather stretching to wind-
ward, that they might think me gone towards the Straits’
mouth (as indeed any one that had been in their wits must
have been supposed to do); for who would have supposed wa
were sailed on to the southward to the truly Barbarian coast,
where whole nations of Negroes were sure to surround us with
the canoes, and destroy us; where we could never once go on
shore but we should be devoured by savage beasts, or more
merciless savages of human kind?

But as soon as it grew dusk in the evening, 1 changed my
course, and steered directly south and by east, bending my
course a little toward the east, that I might keep in with the

shore; and having a fair, fi

St

resh gale of wind, and a smooth,
quiet sea, | made such sail that I believe by the next day at
three o’clock in the afternoon, when I first made the land, ]
could not be less than 150 miles south of Sallee; quite beyond
the Emperor of Morocco’s dominions, or indeed of any other
king thereabout, for we saw no people.

Yet such was the fright I had taken at the Moors, and the
dreadful apprehensions I had of falling into their hands, that
[ would not stop, or go on shore, or come to an anchor ; the
wind continuing fair till I had sailed in that manner five days;

nd then the wind shifting to the southward, I concluded also
that if any of our vessels were in chase of me, they also would
now give over; so I ventured to make to the coast, and come
to an anchor in the mouth ofa little river, I knew not what, or
where; neither what latitude, what country, what nation, or18 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

what river: I neither saw, or desired to see any people ; the
principal thing I wanted was fresh water. We came into this
creek in the evening, resolving to swim on shore as soon as it
was dark, and discover the country; but, as soon as it was
quite dark, we heard such dreadful noises of the barking,
roaring, and howling of wild creatures, of we knew not what
kinds, that the poor boy was ready to die with fear, and begged
of me not to go on shore till day. ‘ Well, Xury,” said I,
“then I won’t; but it may be we may see men by day, who
will be as bad to us as those lions.” —‘‘ Then we give them the
shoot gun,” says Xury, laughing, “make them run wey.”
Such Bueksh Xury spoke by conversing among us slaves.
However, I was glad to see the boy so cheerful, and I gave him
a dram (out of our patron’s case of bottles) to cheer him up.
After all} Xury’s advice was good, and I took it; we dropped
our little anchor, and lay still all night ; I say still, for we slept
none ; for in two or three hours we saw vast great creatures
(we knew not what to call them) of many sorts, come down to
the sea-shore, and run into the water, wallowing and washing
themselves for the pleasure of cooling themselves; and they
made such hideous howlings and yellings, that I never indeed
heard the like.

Xury was dreadfully frightened, and indeed so was I too;
but we were both more frightened when we heard one of these
mighty creatures come swimming towards our boat; we could
net see him, but we might hear him by his blowing to be a
monstrous huge and furious beast; Xury said it was a hon,
and it might be so for aught I know; but poor Xury cried to
me to weigh the anchor and row away : ‘ No,” says I, “‘ Xury;
we can slip our cable with the buoy to it, and go off to sea;
they cannot follow us far.’”’ I had no sooner said so, but I per-
ceived the creature (whatever it me) within two oars’ length,
which something surprised me; 1owever, I immediately
stepped to the cabin door, and taking up my gun, fired at him;
upon which he immediately turned about, and swam towards
the shore again.

But it is impossible to describe the horrible noises, and hid-
eous cries and howlings, that were raised, as well upon the
edge of the shore as higher within the country, upon the noise
or report of the gun, a thing I have some reason to believe
those creatures had never heard before: this convinced me
that there was no going on shore for us in the night upon that
coast, and how to venture on shore in the day was another
question too; for to have fallen into the hands of any of the
savages, had been as bad as to have fallen into the hands of
lions and tigers; at least we were equally apprehensive of the
danger of it. .

Be that as it would, we were obliged to go on SHore some-ROBINSON CRUSOE. 19

where or other for water, for we had not a pint leftin the boat:
when or where to get it, was the point : Xury said, if I would
let him go on shore with one of the jars, he would find if there
was any water and bring some to me. I asked him why he
would go; why I should not go, and he stay in the boat. The
boy answered with so much affection, that made me love him
ever after. Says he, “If wild mans come, they eat me, you
go wey.” — Well, Xury,” said I, “ we will both go, and if the
wild mans come, we will kill them; they shall eat neither of
us.’ Sol gave Xury a piece of rusk bread to eat, and a dram
out of our patron’s case of bottles, which I mentioned before ;
and we Hailed the boat in as near the.shore as we thought was
proper, and so waded to shore; carrying nothing but our arms,
and two jars for water.

I did not care to go out of sight of the boat, fearing the
coming of canoes with savages down the river; but the boy,
seeing a low place about a mile up the country, rambled to it;
and by and by I saw him come running towards me. I thought
he was pursued by some savage, or frighted with some wild beast,
and J run forward towards him to help him; but when I came
nearer to him, I saw something hanging over his shoulders,
which was a creature that he had shot, like a hare, but differ-
ent in color, and longer legs; however, we were very glad of
it, and it was very good meat; but the great joy that poor
Xury came with, was to tell me he had found good water, and
seen no wild mans.

But we found afterwards, that we need not take such pains
for water, for a little higher up the creek where we were, we
found the water fresh when the tide was out, which flows but
a little way up; so we filled our jars, and feasted on the hare
we had killed, and prepared to go on our way, having seen no
footsteps of any human creature in that part of the country.

As I had been one voyage to this coast before, I knew very
well that the islands of the Canaries, and the Cape de Verd
islands also, lay not far off from the coast. But as I had no
instruments to take an observation to know what latitude we
were in, and not exactly knowing, or at least remembering,
what latitude they were in, and knew not where to look for
them, or when to stand off to sea towards them; otherwise
I might now easily have found some of these islands. But my
hope was, that if I stood along this coast till I came to that
part where the English traded, I should find some of their
vessels upon their usual design of trade, that would relieve and
take us in.

By the best of my calculation, that place where I now was,
must be that country, which, lying between the emperor of
Morocco’s dominions and the Negroes, lies waste, and unin-
habited, except by wild beasts; the Negroes having abandoned20 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

it, and apne farther south for fear of the Moors; and the Moors
not thinking it worth inhabiting, by reason of its barrenness;
and indeed both forsaking it because of the rodigious num-
bers of tigers, lions, and leopards, and other utious creatures
which hi wrbor there; so that the Moors use it for their hunting
only, where they go like an army, two or three thousand men
at a time ; and indeed for near a hundred miles together upon
this coast, we saw nothing but a waste, uninhabited country
by day, and heard nothing but howlings and roaring of wild
beasts by night.

Once or twice in the day-time I thought I saw the Pico of
# enerifie, being the high top of the Mountain Teneriffe in

the Canaries, and had a great mind to venture out, in hopes
of reaching thither; but ‘havi ing tried twice, I was "forced in
again by contrary winds, the sea also going too high for my
little vessel; so I reso lved to pursue my “first de esign, ‘and keep
along the shore.

Several times I was obliged to land for fresh water, after we
had left this place; and once in particular, being early in the
morning, we came to an anchor under a little point of land
which was pretty high; and the tide beginning. to flow, we lay
still to go farther in. Xury, whose eyes were more about a
than it seems mine were, Calis softly to me, and tells me that w
had best go farther off the shore ; ce for,” says he,‘ look, y Pade
lies a dreadtul monster on the side of that hillock fast asleep.”
I looked where he pointed, and saw a dreadful monster indeed,
for it was a terrible great lion that lay on the side of the shore,
under the shade of a piece of the hill that hung as it were a
little over him. ‘ Xury,” says I, ‘you shall go on shore and
kill him.”? Xury looked ees and said, Me kill! ne
eat me at one mouth:” one mouthful he meant : howeve ae

said no more to the boy, but bade him lie still, and I tole our
biggest gun, which was < almost musket- bore, and loaded it with
a oh charge of powder, and with two slugs, and laid it down;
then I loaded another g gun with two bullets; and the third (for
we had three NGESs) [loaded with five smaller bullets. I took
the best aim I could with the first piece to have shot him in
the head, but he lay so with his leg cue xd a little above his
nose, that the slugs hit his leg about the knee, and broke the
bone. He started up, erowling at first, but finding his leg
broke, fell down again, and then got up upon three legs, anc
gave the most hideous roar that ever | heard. I was a little
surprised that I had not hit him on the head; however, I took
up the second piece immediately, and, though he beg: an to
move off, fired again, and shot him in the he ad, and had the
pleasure to see him drop, and make but little noise, but he
struggling for life. Then Xury took heart, and would have
me let him go on shore; ‘‘ Well, go,” said I: so the boyROBINSON CRUSOn. 21

Jumped into the water, and taking a little gun in one hand
swam to shore with the other hand, and coming close to
the creature, put the muzzle of the piece to his ear, and shot
him in the head again, which despatched him quite.

This was game indeed to us, but this was no food; and I
was very sorry to lose three charges of powder and shot upon
a creature that was good for nothing to us. Ha wever, Xury
said he would have some of him; so he comes on board, and
azked me to give him the hatchet. “ For what, Xury?” said
I. “ Me cut off his head,” said he. However, Xury could not
cut off his head, but he cut off a foot, and brought it with him
and it was a monstrous great one.

I bethought myself however, that perhaps the skin of him
might one way or other be of some value to us; and I resolved
to take off his skin if I could. So Xury and I went to work
with him; but Xury was much the better workman at it, for
I knew very ill how to do it. Indeed it took us both up the
whole day, but at last we got off the hide of him, and spread-
ing it on the top of our cabin, the sun effectually dried it in
two days’ time, and it afterwards served me to lie upon.

After this stop, we made on to the southward continually
for ten or twelve days, living very sparing on our provisions,
which began to abate very much, and going no oftener into
the shore than we were obliged to for fresh water: my design
in this was, to make the river Gambia or Senegal, that is to
say, any where about the Cape de Verd, where I was in hopes
to meet with some European ship; and if I did not, I knew
not what course I had to take, but to seek for the islands, or
pense there among the Negroes. I knew that all the ships

rom Kurope, which sailed either to the coast of Guinea, or to
Brazil, or tothe Kast Indies, made this cape, or those islands;
and in a word, I put the whole of my fortune upon this sia-
gle point, either that I must meet with some ship or must
yer Ish.
: When I had pursued this resolution about ten days longer,
as I have said, I began to see that the land was inhabited;
and in two or three places, as we sailed by, we saw people
stand upon the shore to look at us; we could also perceive
they were quite black, and stark naked. I was once inclined
to have gone on shore tothem; but Xury was my better coun-
sellor, and said to me, ‘‘ No go, no go.” However, I hauled
in nearer the shore that I might talk to them, and I found they
run along the shore by me a good way: I observed they had
no weapons in their hands, except one, who had®a long slender
stick, which Xury said was a lance, and that they would throw
them a great way with a good aim; sol kept at a distance,
but talked with them by signs as well as I could; and partic-
ularly made signs for something to eat; they beckoned to29 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

me to stup my boat, and they would fetch me some meat.
Upon this I lowered the top of my sail, and lay by, and two
of them ran up into the country, and in less than half an hour
came back, and brought with them two pieces of dry flesh and
some corn, such as 1s the produce of their country; but we
neither knew what the one or the other was: however, we
were willing to accept it, but how to come at it was our next
dispute, for I was not for venturing on shore to them, and they
were as much afraid of us: but they took a safe way for us all,
for they brought it to the shore, and laid it down, and went and
stood a great way off till we fetched it on board, and then came
close to us again.

We made signs of thanks to them, for we had nothing to
make them amends; but an opportunity offered that very in-
stant to oblige them wonderfully ; for while we were lying by
the shore came two mighty creatures, one pursuing the other
(as we took ui) with great fury from the mountains towards
the sea; whether it was the male pursuing the female, or
whether they were in sport or in rage, we could not tell, any
more than we could tell whether it was usual or strange, but |
believe it was the latter; because, in the first place, those
ravenous creatures seldom appear but in the night; and in
the second place we found the people terribly frightened, es-
pecially the women. The man that had the lance or dart did
not fly from them, but the rest did; however, as the two
creatures ran directly into the water, they did not seem to
offer to fall upon any of the Negroes, but plunged themselves
into the sea, and swam about, as if they had come for their di-
version: at last, one of them began to come nearer our boat than
I at first expected; but I lay ready for him, for I had loaded
my gun with all possible expedition, and bade Xury load both
the others. As soon as he came fairly within my reach, I fired,
and shot him directly in the head: immediately he sunk down
into the water, but rose instantly, and plunged up and down, as
if he’ was struggling for life; and so indeed he was: he imme-
diately made to the shore; but between the wound, which wag
his mortal hurt, and the strangling of the water, he died just
before he reached the shore.

It is impossible to express the astonishment of these poor
creatures at the noise and fire of my gun; some of them were
even ready to die for fear, and fell down as dead with the very
terror ; but when they saw the creature dead, and sunk in the
water, and that I made signs to them to come to the shore
they took heart, and came to the shore, and began to search
for the creature. I found him by his blood staining the water ;
and by the help of a rope which I slung round him, and gave
the Negroes to haul, they dragged him on shore, and found
that it was a most curious leopard, spotted, and fine to an ad-=

ROBINSON CRUSOE. 23

mirable degree; and the Negroes held up their hands wih
admiration, to’think what it was I had killed him with,

he other creature, frightened with the flash of fire and

the mountains from whence they came; nor could I, at that
distance, know what it was. I found quickly the Negroes
were for eating the flesh of this creature; so I was willing to
have them take it as a favor from me; which, when I made
signs to them that they might take him, they

were very
thankful for. Immediately they fell to work with him; and
though they had no knife, yet, with a sharpened piece of wood,

they took off his skin as readily, and much more readily, than
we could have done with a knife. They offered me some of
the flesh, which I declined, making as if I would give it them,
but made signs for the skin, which they gave me very freely,
and brought me a great deal more of their provisions, which,
though I did not understand, yet [ accepted. I then made
signs to them for some water, and held out one of my jars to
them, turning it bottom upward, to show that it was empty,
and that £ wanted to have it filled. They called immediately
to some of their friends, and there came two y

vomen, and
brought a great vessel made of earth, and burnt, as I suppose,
in the sun; this they set down to me, as before, and I sent

ury on shore with my Jars, and filled them all three. The
women were as stark naked as the men.

I was now furnished with Toots and corn, s
and water; and leaving my friendly Negroes, I made forward
for about eleven days more, without offering to go near the
shore, till I saw the land run out a great length into the sea,
at about the distance of four or five leagues before me; and
the sea being very calm, I kept a large offing, to make this
point. At length, doubling the poms at about two leagues
from the land, I saw plainly land on the other side, to sea-
ward; then I concluded, as it was most certain indeed, that
this was the Cape de Verd, and those the islands, called, from
thence, Cape de Verd Islands. However, they were at a
teat distance, and I could not well tell what I had best to do;
for if I should be taken with a gale of wind, I might neither
reach one nor the other.

In this dilemma, as I was very pensive, I stepped into the
cabin, and sat me down, Xury having the helm ; when, on a
sudden, the boy cried out, “ Master, master, a shi with a

sail!”? and the foolish boy was frightened out of
thinking i

uch as it was,24 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
saw, not only the ship, but what she was, viz. that it was a
Portuguese ship, and, as I thought, was bound to the coast
of Guinea, for Negroes. But, when I observed the course she
steered, I was soon convinced they were bound some other
way, and did not cosy to come any nearer to the shore;
upon which I stretched out to sea as much as I could, re-
solving to speak with them, if possible.

With all the sail I could make, I found I should nov be able
to-come in their way, but that they would be gone by before |.
could make any signal to them; but after I had crowded to
the utmost, and began to despair, they, it seems, saw me by
the help of their perspective glasses, and that it was some
European boat, which, they supposed, must belong to some
ship that was lost; so they shortened sail, to let me come up.
I was encouraged with this, and as I had my patron’s ensign
on board, I made a waft of it to them, for a signal of distress,
and fired a gun, both which they saw; for they told me they
saw the smoke, though they did not hear the gun. Upon these
signals, they very kindly brought to, and lay by for me; and
in about three hours’ time I came up with them.

They asked me what I was, in Portuguese, and in Spanish.
and in French, but I understood none of them; but, at last, a
Scotch sailor, who was on board, called to me, and I answered
him, and told him I was an Englishman, that I had made my
escape out of slavery from the Moors, at Sallee: they then
bade me come on board, and very kindly took me in, and all
my goods.

It was an inexpressible joy to me, which any one will be-
heve, that I was thus delivered, as I esteemed it, from such a
miserable, and almost hopeless condition, as I was in; and I
immediately offered all I had to the captain of the ship, as a
return for my deliverance; but he generously told me, he
would take nothing from me, but that all I had should be de-
livered safe to me, when I came to the Brazils. ‘‘ For,” says
he, “‘I have saved your life on no other terms than I would be
glad to be saved myself; and it may, one time or other, be my
lot to be taken up in the same condition. Besides,” continued
he, “when I carry you to the Brazils, so great a way from
your own country, if [ should take from you what you have
you will be starved there, and then I only take away tha
life I have given. No, no, Seignior Inglese ” (Mr. English-
man), says he; ‘I will carry you thither in charity, and these
things will help to buy your subsistence theve, and your
passage home again.”

As he was charitable in this proposal, so he was just in the
performance, to a tittle; for he ordered the seamen, that none
should offer to touch any thing I had: then he took every
thing into his own possession, and gave me back an exact insROBINSON CRUSOE. 25

ventory of them, that I might have them, even
three earthen jars.

As to my boat, it was a very good one; and that h
and told me he would buy it of me for the s]
asked me what I would have for it. I told him, he had been
So generous to me in every thing, that I could not offer to
make any price of the boat, but left it entirely to him: upon
which, he told me he would give me a note of hand to pay me
eighty pieces of eight for it at Brazil; and when it came there,
if any one offered to give more, he would make it up. He
offered me also sixty pieces of eight more for my boy Xury,
which I was loth to ie. not that I was not willing to let the
captain have him, but I was very loth to sell the poor boy’s
liberty, who had assisted me so faithfully in procuring my
own. However, when I let him know my reason, he owned It
to be just, and offered me this medium, that he would give
the boy an obligation to set him free in ten years, if he turned
Christian: upon this, and Xury saying he was willing to go

80 much as my

e saw,
up's use; and

We had a very good voyage to the Brazils, and arrived in
the Bay de Todos los Santos, or All Saints’ Bay, in about
twenty-two days after. And now I was once more delivered
from the most miserable of all conditions of life; and what to
do next with myself, I was now to consider.

The generous treatment the captain gave me, I can never
enough remember : he would take nothing of me for my pas-
sage, gave me twenty ducats for the leopard’s skin, and forty
for the lion’s skin, which I had in my boat, and caused every
thing I had in the ship to be punctually delivered to me; and
what I was willing to sell, he bought of me; such as the case
of bottles, two of my guns, and a piece of the lump of bees-
wax,—for I had made candles of the rest: in a word, I made
about two hundred and twenty pieces of eight of all m y cargo;
and with this stock, 1 went on shore in the Brazils.

I had not been long here, before I was recommended to the
house of a good, honest man, like himself, who had an ingemo,
as they call it (that is, a plantation and a sugar-hquse), f£
lived with him some time, and acquainted myself, by that
means, with the manner of planting and making of sugar; and

seeing how well the planters lived, and how they got rich sud.
denly, 1 resolved, if I could get a license to settle there, [
would turn planter among them; endeavoring, in the mean
time, to find out some way to get my money, which i had let}
in London, remitted to me. ‘'T'o this purpose, getting a kind
of a letter of naturalization, I purchased as much land that
was uncured as my money would reach, and formed a plan
for my plantation and settlement; such a one as might be
suitable to the stock which I proposed to myself to receive
from England.
oD26 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

I had a neighbor, a Portuguese of Lisbon, but born of
English parents, whose name was Wells, and in much such
circumstances as I was. I call him my neighbor, because his
plantation lay next to mine, and we went on very sociably to-
gether. My stock was but low, as well as his; and we rather
nplantéd for food than any thing else, for about two years.
However, we began to increase, and our land began to come
into order; so that, the third year we planted some tobacco,
and made each of us a large piece of ground ready for plant-
ing canes in the year to come: but we both wanted help ; and
now I found, more than before, I had done wrong in parting
with my boy Xury. fon

But, alas! for me to do wrong, that never did night, was no
great wonder. I had no remedy, but to go on: I had got into
an employment quite remote to my genius, and directly con-
trary to the life [ delighted in, and for which | forsook my
father’s house, and broke through all his good advice: nay, }
was coming into the very middle station, or upper degree of
low life, which my father advised me to before; and which, if
I resolved to go on with, I might as well have staid at home,
and never have fatigued myself in the world, as I had done:
and I used often to say to myself, I could have done this as
well in England, among my friends, as have gone five thousand
miles off to ao 14 among strangers and savages, in a wilderness,
and at such a distance as never to hear from any part of the
world that had the least knowledge of me.

In this manner, I used to look upon my condition with the
utmost regret. { had nobody to converse with, but now and
then this neighbor; no work to be done, but by the labor of
my hands; and I used to say, I lived just hike a man cast
away upon some desolate island, that had nobody there but
himself. But how just has it been! and how should all men
reflect, that when they compare their present conditions with
others that are worse, Heaven may pblige them to make the
exchange, and be convinced of their former felicity by their
experience: I say, how just has it been, that the truly solitary
life I reflected on, in an island of mere desolation, should be
my lot, Who had so often unjustly compared it with the life
which [I then led, in which, had I continued, I had, in all
probability, been exceeding prosperous and rich.

I was, in some degree, settled in my measures for carry-
ing on the plantation, before my kind friend, the captain
of the ship that took me up at sea, went back; for the
ship remained there, in providing his lading, and preparing
for his voyage, near three months; when, telling him what
little stock I had left behind me in London, he gave me this
friendly and sincere advice: “ Seignior Inglese,” says he (forROBINSON CRUSOE. OF
so he always called me), ‘if you will give me letters, and a
Procumtion here in form to me, with orders to the person who

as your money in London, to send your effects to Lisbon, to
such persons as I shall direct, and in such goods as are proper
for this country, I will bring you the produce of them, God
willing, at my return; but, since human affairs are all subject
to changes and disasters, I would have you give orders for but
one hundred pounds sterling, which, you say, is half your
stock, and let the hazard be run for the first, so that if it come
safe, you may order the rest the same way; and, if it mis-
Carry, you may have the other half to have recourse to for
your supply.”

This was so wholesome advice, and Jo

could not but be convinced it was the
take; so I accordingly prepared letters to the gentlewoman
with whom I left my money, and a procuration to the Portu-
guese captain, as he desired me.

I wrote the English captain’s widow a full
adventures ; my slavery, escape, and how [
Portuguese Captain at sea, the humanity of his behavior, and
What condition I was now in, with all other necessary direc-
tions for my supply : and when this honest captain came to
Lisbon, he found means, by some of the English merchants
there, to send over, not the order only, but a full account of
my story to a merchant at London, who represented it effect-
ually to her; whereupon she not only delivered the money,
but, out of her own pocket, sent the Portuguese captain a very

handsome present for his humanity and charity to me.

The merchant in London, vesting this hundred pounds in
English goods, such as the Captain had wrote for, sent them
directly to him at Lisbon, and he brought them all safe to me
at the Brazils; among which, without my direction (for I was
too young in my business to think of them), he had taken care
to have all sorts of tools, iron work, and utensils, necessary for
my plantation, and which were of great use to me.

hen this cargo arrived, I thought my fortune made, for I
was surprised at the joy of it: and my good steward, the cap-
tain, had laid out the five ounds, which my friend had sent
him as a present for images to purchase and bring me over a
servant, under bond for six years’ service, and
cept of any consideration, except
would have him acce t, being of my own produce.

Neither was this aie but my goods being all English man-
ufactures, such as cloths, stuffs, baize, and things particularly
valuable and desirable in the country, 1 found means to sel}
them to a very great advantage; so that I might say, I had
more than four times the value of my first cargo, and was now
infinitely beyond my poor neighbor, | mean in the advance-

oked so friendly, that
best course J could

account of all my
had met with the

| would not ac-
a little tobacco, which ]aE SE

 

 

  

28 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

ment of my plantation; for the first thing I did, I bought
me a Negro slave, and a European servant also; J mean
another besides that which the captain brought me from
Lisbon.

But as abused prosperity is oftentimes made the very means
of our adversity, so was it with me. I went on the next year
with great success In my plantation ; I raised fifty great rolls
of tobacco on my own ground, more than I had disposed of for
necessaries among my neighbors; and these fifty rolls, being
each of above a hundred weight, were well cured, and laid by
against the return of the fleet from Lisbon; and now, increas,
ing in business and in wealth, my head began to be full ot
projects and undertakings beyond my reach; such as are,
indeed, often the ruin of the best heads in businessag Had |
continued in the station 1 was now in, i had room. fogall the
happy things to have yet befallen me, for which my ather so
earnestly recommended a quiet, retired life, and which he had
so sensibly described the middle station of life to be full of;
but other things attended me, and I was still to be the wilful
agent of all my own miseries; and, particularly, to increase
my fault, and double the reflections upon myself, which, in
my future sorrows, I should have leisure to make, all these
miscarriages were procured by my apparent obstinate adhering
to my foolish inclination, of wandering about, and pursuing
that inclination, in contradiction to the clearest views of doing
myself good in a fair and plain pursuit of those prospects, and
those measures of life, which nature and Providence concurred
to present me with, and to make my duty.

As I had once done thus in breaking away from my parents,
so | could not be content now, but I] must go and leave the
happy view | bad of being a rich and thriving man in my new
plantation, only to pursue a rash and immoderate desire of
rising faster than the nature of the thing admitted; and thus
I cast myself down again into the deepest gulf of human
misery that ever man fell into, or perhaps could be consistent
with life, and a state of health in the world.

To come, then, by just degrees, to the particulars of this
part of my story :—You may suppose, that having now lived
almost four years in the Brazils, and beginning to thrive and
prosper very well upon my plantation, | had not only learned
the language, but had contracted an acquaintance and
friendship, among my fellow-planters, as well as among the
merchants at St. Salvador, which was our port; and that, in
my discourses among them, I had frequently given them an
account of my two voyages to the coast of Guinea, the manner
of trading with the Negroes there, and how easy it was to pur-
chase on the coast, for trifles—such as beads, toys, knives,
scissors, hatchets, bits of glass, and the lke—not only goldROBINSON CRUSOR.

29
dust, Guinea grains, elephants’ teeth, &c., but Negroe8, for:
the service of the Brazils, in great numbers.

They listened always very attentively to my discourses on
these heads, but especially to that part which related to the
buying Negroes; which was a trade, at that ume, not only not
far entered into, but, as far as it was, had been carried on by
the assientos, or permission of the kings of Spain and Portugal,

and engrossed from the public; so that few Negroes were

bought, and those excessive dear.

It happened, being in company with some merchants and
planters of my acquaintance, and talking of those things very
earnestly, three of them came to me the next morning, and
told me they had been musing very much upon what I had
discoursed with them of the last night, and they came to make
a secret proposal to me; and, after enjoining me to secrecy,
they told me that they had a mind to fit out a ship to go to
Guinea; that they had all plantations as well as I, and were
straitened for nothing so much as servants; that as it was a
trade that could not be carried on, because they could not
publicly sell the Negroes when they came home, so they de-
sired to make but one voyage, to bring the Negroes on shore
privately, and divide them among their own plantations: and,
in a word, the question was, whether I woul go their super-
cargo in the ship, to manage the trading part upon the coas%
of Guinea; and they offered me that i should have an equal
share of the Negroes, without providing any part of the stock.

This was a fair proposal, it must be confessed, had it been
made to any one that had not a settlement and plantation of
his own to look after, which was in a fair way of coming to be
very considerable, and with a good stock upon it. But for me,
that was thus entered and established, and had nothing to da.
but go on as I had begun, for three or four years more, and to
have sent for the other hundred ounds from England; and
who, in that time, and with that little addition, could scarce
have failed of being worth three or four thousand pounds ster-
ling, and that increasing too; for me to think of such a voyage,
was the most preposterous thing that ever man, in such cir-

cumstances, could be guilty of.

But I, that was born to be my own destroyer, could no more
resist the offer, than I could restrain my first rambling designs,
when my father’s good counsel was lost upon me. In a word,
I told them I would go with all my heart, if they would under-
take to look after my plantation in my absence, and would
dispose of it to such as | should direct, if I miscarried, This
they all engaged to do, and entered into writings or covenants
to doso; and I made a formal will, disposing of my plantation
and effects, in case of my death, making the captain of the
ship, that had saved my life, as before, my universal heir; but30 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

( obliging him to dispose of my effects as [ had directed in my
4 will; one half of the produce being to himself, and the other
to be shipped to England.
In short, I took all possible caution to preserve my effects,
and to keep up my plantation: had I used half as much pru-
dence to have looked into my own interest, and have made a
judgment of what I ought to have done and not to have done,
i had certainly never gone away from so prosperous an un-
dertaking, leaving all the probable views of a thriving circum-
stance, and gone a voyage to sea, attended with all its common
hazards, to say nothing of the reasons I had to expect partic
ular misfortunes to myself
| But 1 was hurried on, and obeyed blindly the dictates of
i my fancy, rather than my reason; and accordingly, the ship
' being fitted out, and the cargo furnished, and all things done
as by agreement, by my partners in the voyage, I went on
board in an evil hour again, the Ist of September, 1659, being
the same day eight years that I went from my father and
mother at Hull, in order to act the rebel to their authority, and
the fool to my own interest.

Our ship was about one hundred and twenty tons burden,
carried six guns, and fourteen men, besides the master, his
boy, and myself; we had on board no large cargo of goods,

except of such toys as were fit for our trade with the Negroes,
such as beads, bits of glass, shells, and odd trifles, especially
little looking-glasses, knives, scissors, hatchets, and the like.

The same day | went on board, we set sail, standing away

to the northward upon our own coast, with design to stretch
ii over for the African coast. When they came about ten or

' twelve degrees of northern latitude, which, it seems, was the
manner of their course in those days, we had very good
weather, only excessive hot all the way upon our Own Coast,
till we came to the height of Cape St. Augustino; from
whence, keeping farther off at sea, we lost sight of land, and
steered as if we were bound for the isle Fernando de Noronha,
holding our course N.E. by N. and leaving those isles on the
: east. In this course we passed the line in about twelve days’
; time, and were, by our last observation, in 7 degrees 22 minutes
northern latitude, when a violent tornado, or hurricane, took
{ us quite out of our knowledge: it began from the south-east,
came about to the north-west, and then settled in the north
east ; from whence it blew in such a terrible manner, that, for
| twelve days together, we could do nothing but drive, and,
} scudding away before it, let it carry us whither ever fate and
the fury of the winds directed ; and, during these twelve days,
i need not say that I expected every day to be swallowed up
nor, indeed, did any in the ship expect to save their lives.

In this distress, we had, besides the terror of the storm, one

=

ee a aROBINSON CRUSOR. 31

ef our men died of the calenture, and one man and a boy

washed overboard. About the twelfth day, the weather abai-

ing a little, the master made an observation as well as he could,
and found that he was in about 11 degrees north latitude, but
that he was 22 degrees of longitude difference, west from Cape

St. Augustino; so that he found he was got upon the coast of

Guiana, or the north part of Brazil, beyond the river Amazons,

toward that of the river Oroenoque, commonly called the

Great River; and began to consult with me what course he

should take, for the ship was leaky and very much disabled,

and he was going directly back to the coast of Brazil.

I was positively against that; and looking over the charts
of the sea-coast of America with him, we concluded there was
no inhabited country for us te have recourse to, till we came
within the circle of the Caribbee islands, and therefore re-
solved to stand away for Barbadoes ; which, by keeping off to
sea, to avoid the in-draft of the bay or gulf of Mexico, we might
easily perform, as we hoped, in about fifteen days’ sail; where-
as we could not possibly make our voyage to the coast of
Africa without some assistance, both to our ship and ourselves.

With this design we changed our course, and steered away
N.W. by W., in order to reach some of our English islands,
where I hoped for relief; but our voyage was otherwise de-
termined ; for being in the latitude of 12 degrees 18 minutes, a
second storm came upon us, which carried us away with the
same 1mpetuosity westward, and drove us so out of the very
way of all human commerce, that had all our lives been saved,
as to the sea, we were rather in danger of being devoured by
savages than ever returning to our own country.

In this distress, the wind still blowing very hard, one of our
men early in the morning cried out, “‘ Land!” and we had no
sooner run out of the cabin to look out, in hopes of seeing
whereabouts in the world we were, but the ship struck upon
a sand, and in a moment, her motion being so stopped, the
sea broke over her in such a manner, that we expected we
should all have perished immediately ; and we were immedi-
ately driven into our close quarters, to shelter us from the
very foam and spray of the sea.

It is not easy for any one, who has not been in the like con-
dition, te describe or conceive the consternation of men in
such circumstances; we knew nothing where we were, or
upon what land it was we were driven, whether an island or

the main, whether inhabited or not inhabited; and as the
rage of the wind was still great, though rather less than at
first, we could not so much as hope to have the ship hold many
minutes, without breaking in pieces, unless the wind, by a
kind of miracle, should immediately turn about. Ina word, we

sat looking upon one another, and expecting death every mo-CON eae tyntaee

 

  

  

32 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

ment, and every man acting accordingly, as pee for
another world; for there was little or nothing more for us to
do in this: that which was our present comfort, and all the
comfort we had, was, that, contrary to our Sa the
ship ga acl break yet, and that the master said the wind be-
gan to abate. ae :

pines though we thought that the wind did 2 little abate,
yet the ship having thus struck upon the sand, and sticking
too fast for us to expect her getting off, we were in a drea lful
condition indeed, and had nothing to do but to think of
saving our lives as well as we could. We had a boat at our
stern just before the storm, but she was first staved by dashing
against the ship’s rudder, and, in the next place, she broke
away, and either sunk, or was driven off to sea; so there was
no hope from her: we had another boat on board, but how to
get her off into the sea was a doubtful thing ; however, there
was no room to debate, for we fancied the ship would break
in pieces ever, minute, and some told us she was actually
broken already. ; ‘

In this distress, the mate of our vessel laid hold of the boat,
and with the help of the rest of the men, they got her flung
over the ship’s side ; and getting all into her, let her go, and
committed ourselves, being eleven in number, to God’s mercy,
and the wild sea: for though the storm was abated consider.
ably, yet the sea went dreadful high upon the shore, and
might be well called den wild zee, as the Dutch call the sea
in a storm.

And now our case was very dismal indeed ; for we all saw
plainly, that the sea went so high, that the boat could not live,
and that we should be inevitably drowned. As to making sail,
we had none; nor, if we had, could we have done any thing with
it; so we worked at the oar towards the land, though with
heavy hearts, like men going to execution; for we all knew
that when the boat came nearer to the shore, she would be
dashed in a thousand pieces by the breach of the sea. How-
ever, we committed our souls to God in the most earnest man-
ner; and the wind driving us towards the shore, we hastened
our destruction with our own hands, pulling as well
could towards land.

What the shore was—whether rock or sand, whether steep
or shoat—we knew not: the only hape that could rationally
give us the least shadow of expectation, was, if we might hap-
pen Into some bay or gulf, or the mouth of some river, where
y great chance we might have run our boat in, or got under
the lee of the land, and perhaps. made smooth water. But
there was nothing of this appeared; and as we made nearer
ane hearer the share, the land looked mere frightful than

sea, :

as WweROBINSON CRUSOR,

After we had rowed, or rather driven, about a league and a

alf, as we reckoned it, a raging wave, mountain-like, came
rolling astern of us, and plainly bade us expect the coup de
grace. Ina word, it took us with such afury, that it overset the
boat at once; and separating us, as,well from the boat as from
one another, gave us not time hardly to say, O God}” for
we were all swallowed up in a moment,

Nothing can describe the confusion of thought which I felt,
when I sunk into the water; for though I swam very well, yet
I could not deliver myself from the waves so as to draw my
breath, till that wave having driven me, or rather carried me,
& vast way on towards the shore, and having spent itself, went
back, and left me upon the land almost dry, but half dead with
the water I took in. I had so much presence of mind, as well
as breath left, that, séeing myself nearer the main land than
I expected, I got upon my feet, and endeavored to make on
towards the land as fast as T could, before another wave should
return and take me up again; but I soon found it was imposs
sible to avoid it; for I saw the sea come after me as high as a
great hill, and as furious as an enemy, which [ had no means or
strength to contend with: my business was to hold my breath,
and raise myself upon the water, if I could; and so, by swim-
ming, to preserve my breathing, and pilot myself towards the
shore, if possible ; my greatest concern now being, that the
wave, as it would carry me a great way towards the shore
when it came on, might not carry me back again with it when
it gave back towards the sea.

The wave that came upon me again buried me at once
twenty or thirty feet deep in its own body; and I could feel
myself carried with a mighty force and swiftness towards the
shore a very great way; but I held my breath, and assisted
myself to swim still forward with all my might. [ was ready
to burst with holding my breath, when, as I felt myself rising
up, So, to my immediate relief, I found my head and hands
shoot out above the surface of the water; and though it was
not two seconds of time that I could keep myself So, yet it re-
lieved me greatly, gave me breath, and new courage. J was
covered again with water a good while, but not so long but |
held it out; and finding the water had spent itself, and began
to return, I struck forward against the return of the waves,
and felt ground again. with my feet. I stood still a few
moments, to recover breath, and till the water went from me,
and then took to my heels, and ran with what strength I had
farther towards the shore. But neither would this deliver me
from the fury of the sea, which came pouring in after me
again; and twice more I was lifted up by the waves and car-
ried forwards as before, the shore being very flat.

The last time of these two had well nigh been fatal to me; forrr

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

the sea, having hurried me along, as before, landed me, or rather
dashed me, against a piece of a rock, and that with such force,
that it left me senseless, and indeed helpless, as to my own de-
liverance; for the blow taking my side and breast, beat the
breath, as it were, quite out of my body; and had it returned
again immediately, | must have been strangled in the water : but
I recovered a little before the return of the waves, and seeing I
should again be covered with the water, [resolved to hold fast
by a piece of the rock, and so to hold my breath, if possible,
till the wave went back. Now, as the waves were not so high
as the first, being nearer land, I held my hold till the wave
abated, and then fetched another run, which brought me so near
the shore, that the next wave, though it went over me, yet did
not so swallow me up as to carry me away; and the next run |
took, I got to the main land; where, to my great comfort, I
clambered up the cliffs of the shore, and sat me down upon the
grass, free from danger, and quite out of the reach of the water.

I was now landed, and safe on shore, and began to look up
and thank God, that my life was saved, in a case wherein there
were, some minutes before, scarce any room to hope. I be-
lieve it is impossible to express, to the life, what the ecstasies
and transports of the soul are, when it is so saved, as I may

say, out of the grave; and I did not wonder now at the cus-
tom, viz. that when a malefactor, who has the halter about hisROBINSON CRUSOE, 85
neck, is tied up, and just going to be turned off, and has a re-
prieve brought te him; I say | do not wonder that they bring
a Surgeon with it, to let him blood that very moment they te
him of it, that the surprise may not drive the animal spirits
from the heart, and overwhelm him ;

For sudden joys, like griefs, confound at first.

{ walked about on the shore, lifting up my hands, and my
whole being, as I may say, wrapt up in the contemplation of
my deliverance; making a thousand gestures and motions,
which I cannot describe; reflectin upon -my comrades that
were drowned, and that there should not be one soul saved
but myself; for, as for them, I never saw them afterwards, o
any sign of them, except three of their hats, one cap, and two
shoes that were not fellows.

I cast my eyes to the stranded vesse!—when the breach and
froth of the sea being so big I could hardly see it, it lay so far
off—and considered, Lord! how was it possible I could get
on shore ?

After I had solaced my mind with the comfortable part of
my condition, I began to look round me, to see what kind of a
place I was in, and what was next to be done; and I soon
found my comforts abate, and that, in a word, I had a dreadful
deliverance; for I was wet, had no clothes to shift me, nor any
thing either to eat or drink, to comfort me; neither did I see
any prospect before me, but that of erishing with hunger, or
being devoured by wild beasts: and that which was particu-
larly afflicting to me, was, that I had no weapon, elther to
hunt and kill any creature for my sustenance, or to defend

myself against any other creature, that might desire to kill me
for theirs. In a word, I had nothing about me but a knife, a
tobacco-pipe, and a little tobacco in a box. This was all my
provision; and this threw me into such terrible agonies of
mind, that, for a while, | ran about like a madman. . Night
coming upon me, I began with a heavy heart, to consider
what would be my lot if there were any ravenous beasts in that
country, seeing at night they always come abroad for their
yrey.
All the remedy that offered to my thoughts, at that time,
was, to get up into a thick, bushy tree, like a fir, but thorny—
which grew near me, and where I resolved to sit all night—
and consider the next day what death I should die, for as yet
i saw ne prospect of life. I walked about a furlong from the
shore, to see fT could find any fresh water to drink, which I
did to my great joy; and having drank, and put a little tobac-
co into my mouth to prevent hunger, I went to the tree, and
getting up inte it, endeavored to place myself so as that, if I
should fall asleep, I might not fall; and haying cut me a shortROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

36

stick, like a truncheon, for my defence, I took up my lodging ; ;
and having been excessively fatigued, I fell fast asieep, and slept
as comfortably as, I believe, few could have done in my con-
dition; and found myself the most refreshed with it that I
think I ever was on such an occasion.

When I waked, it was broad day, the weather clear, and the
storm abated, so that oe sea did not rage ai nd swell as before ;
but that which surprised me most was, that the ship was lifted
off in the night from the sand where she lay, by the swelling
of the tide, and was driven up almost as far as the rock which |
at first mentioned, where I had been so bruised by the wave
dashing me against i ‘This being within about a mile from
the shore where I w as, and the ship seeming to stand upright
still, | wished myself on board, that at least I mi ght save some
nec essary things for my use.

When I came down from my apartment in the tree, I looked

bout me again, and the first thing [ found was the boat ;
which lay, as the wind and the sea had tossed her u p, upon the

land, about two miles on my right hand. I walke d as far as i

could upon the shore to have got to her; but found a neck, or
inlet, of water between me and the boat, which was about half a
mile broad; so I came back for the present, being more intent
upon getting at the ship, where { hoped to find something for
my pom subsistence.

A little after noon, I found the sea ve ry calm, and the tide
#bbed so far out, that I could come within a qui urter of a mile
of the ship ; and here I found a fresh renewing of my grief;
for I saw evidently, that if wehad kept on board, we had been
all safe; that is to say, we had all got safe on shore, and I had
not been so miserable as to be left e entirely destitute of all con-
fort and company, as I now was. This forced tears from my
eyes again; but as there was little relief in that, I resolved, if
possible, to get to the ship; so I pulled off my clothes, for the
weather was hot to extremity, and took the water; but when
I came to the ship, my difficulty was still greater to know how
to get on board; for as she lay aground, and high out of the

water, there was nothing within my reach to tay hold of. |
swam ‘round her twice, ‘and the second time [ spied a smal!
piece of a rope, W hich I wondered I did not see at first, hang

lip,
down by the fore-chains so low, as that with great dif theulty 1
got hold of it, and by the help of that rope oot into the fore-
castle of the’ ship. Here I found that the ship was bulged,
and had a great deal of water in her hold: but that shellay SO
on the side of a b: unk of hard sand, or rather earth , that her
stern lay lifted up upon the bank, and her head low, almost to
the water. By this means all her quarter was free, and all
that.was in that part was dry; for you m: iy be sure my first
work was to search and to see what was spoiled and what wasROBINSON CRUSOE, 37

free: and, first, I found that all the ship’s provisions were dry

and untouched by the water; and, being very well disposed to

eat, I went to the bread-room, and filled my pockets with bis-
Cult, and ate it as I went about other things, for I had no time
to lose. I also found some rum in the great cabin, of which I
took a large dram, and which I had indeed need enough of, to
spirit me for what was before me. Now I wanted nothing but
a boat, to furnish myself with many things which I foresaw
would be very necessary to me.

It was in vain to sit still and wish for what was not to be
had, and this extremity roused my application: we had sev.
eral spare yards, and two or three large spars of wood, and a
Spare top-mast or two in the ship: I resolved to fall to work
with these, and flung as many overboard as I could manage for
their weight, tying every one with a rope, that they might not
drive away. When this was done, I went down the ship’s
side, and pulling them to me, I tied four of them fast together
at both ends, as well as [ could, in the form of a raft, and lay-
lag two or three short pieces of plank upon them, crossways,
I found I could walk upon it very well, but that it was not able
to bear any great weight, the pieces being too light: so 1 went
to work, and with the carpenter’s saw I cut a spare top-mast
mto three lengths, and added them to my raft, with a great
deal of labor and pains. But the hope of furnishing myself
with necessaries encouraged me to go beyond what I shoulda
1ave been able to have done upon another occasion.

My raft was now strong enough to bear any reasonable
weight. My next care was what to load it with, and how to
preserve what I laid upon it from the surf of the sea; but I
was not long considering this. I first laid all the planks or
doards upon it that I could get, and having considered well
what I most wanted, I got three of the seamen’s chests, which
i had broken open and emptied, and lowered them down upon
my raft: these I filled with provisions, viz. bread, rice, three
Dutch cheeses, five pieces of dried goats’ flesh (which we

fived much upon), and a little remainder of European corn,
which had been laid by for some fowls which we had brought
1@ sea with us; but the fowls were killed. There had been
Sume barley and wheat together ; but, to my great disappoint-
ment, 1 found afterwards that the rats had eaten or spoiled it
all. As for liquors, I found several cases of bottles belonging
to our skipper, in which were some cordial waters; and, in
all, dbout five or six gallons of rack. These T stowed by
themselves, there being no need to put them into the chests,
hor any room for them. While I was doing this, I found the
tide began to flow, though very calm; and I had the mortifi-
cation to see my coat, shirt, and waistcoat, which I had left
on shore, upon the sand, swim away; as for my breeches,Sila we ee

38 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

which were only linen, and open-kneed, I swam on board in
them, and my soca: However, this put me upou rum-
aging for clothes, of which | found enough, but took no Hie
than I wanted for present use, for I had other things which my
eye was more upon; as, first, tools to work with on shore ;
and it was after long searching that | found the carpenter's
chest, which was indeed a very useful prize to me, and much
more valuable than a ship-lading of gold would have been at
that time. I got it down to my raft, even whole as it was
without losing time to look into it, for I knew in general what
it contained. ne

My next care was for some ammunition and arms. There
were two very good fowling-pieces in the great cabin, and two
pistols ; these Pesctred first, with some powder-horns, and a
small bag of shot, and two old rusty swords. I knew there
were three barrels of powder in the ship, but knew not where
eur gunner had stowed them; but with much search I found
them, two of them dry and good; the third had taken water.
Those two I got to my raft, with the arms. And now I thought
myself pretty well freighted, and began to think how I should
get to shore with them, having neither sail, oar, nor rudder ;
and the least cap-full of wind would have overset all my nav-
igation.

I had three encouragements: Ist, A smooth, calm sea:
2dly, The tide rising, and setting in to the shore: 3dly, What
little wind there was, blew me towards the land. And thus,
having found two or three broken oars belonging to the boat,
and besides the tools which were in the chest, I found two
saws, an axe, and a hemmer; and with this carge I put to
sea. For a mile, or thereabouts, my raft went very well, only
that I found it drive a little distant from the place where I had
landed before ; by which I perceived that there was some in-
draft of the water, and consequently I hoped to find some
creek or river there, which I might make use of as a port to
get to land with my cargo.

As I imagined, so it was: there appeared before me a little
opening of the land, and I found a strong current of the tide
set into it; so I guided my raft, as well as 1 could, to get into
the middle of the stream. But here I had like to have suffered
a second shipwreck, which, if I had, I think verily would have
broken my heart ; for knowing nothing of the coast, my raft ran
aground at one end of it upon a shoal, and not being aground at
the other end, it wanted but alittle that all my cargo had slipped
off towards that end that was afloat, and so fallen into the water
i did my utmost, by setting my back against the chests, to keep
them in their places, but could not thrust off the raft with all
my strength; neither durst I stir from the posture I was in,
but, holding up the chests with all my might, I stood in thatROBINSON CRUSOE, 39
Matmer near half an hour, in which time the rising of the
water brought me a little more upon a level; and alittle after
the water still rising, my raft floated again, and I thrust her
off with the oar I had, into the channe , and then driving up
higher, T at length found myself in the mouth of a little river,
with land on both sides, anda strong current or tide running up.
I looked on both sides for a proper place to get to shore, for I
was not willing to be driven too high up the river; hoping, in
tme, to see some ship at sea, and therefore resolved to place
nyself as near the coast as I could
; Atlength I spied a little cove on the right shore of the creek,
‘to which, with great pain and difficulty, I guided my raft, and
at last got so near, as that, reaching ground with my oar, I
could thrust her directly in; but here i Bed like to have dipped
all my cargo into the sea again; for that shore lying pretty
steep, that is to say, sloping, there was no place to land, but
where one end of my float, if it ran on shore, would lie so high,
and the other sink lower, as before, that it would endanger
my cargo again. All that 1 could do was, to wait till the tide
was at the highest, kee ing the raft with my oar like an anchor,
to hold the side of it fast to the shore, near a flat piece of
ground, which I expected the water would flow over; and so
it did. As soon as I found water enough,—for my raft drew
about a foot of water,—I thrust her upon that flat piece of
ground, and there fastened or moored her, by sticking my two
broken oars into the ground; one on one side, near one end,
and one on the other side, near the other end: and thus I lay
till the water ebbed away, and left my raft and all my cargo
safe on shore.

My next work was to view the country, and seek a proper
place for my habitation, and where to stow my goods, to secur¢
them from whatever might happen. Where I was, I yet knew
not; whether on the continent, or on an island; whether in-
habited, or not inhabited; whether in danger of wild beasts,
or not. ‘There was a hill, not above a mile from me, which rose
up very steep and high, and which seemed to overtop some
other hills, which lay as in a ridge from it, northward. I took
out one of the fowling-pieces, and one of the pistols, and a
horn of powder; and thus armed, | travelled for discovery up
to the top of that hill ; where, after I had, with great labor sud
difficulty, got up to the top, I saw my fate, to my great afflic-
tion, viz. that I was in an island, environed every way with
the sea, no land to be seen, except some rocks, which lay a
great way off, and two small islands, less than this, which lay
about three leagues to the west.

I found also that the island I was in was barren, and, as |
saw good reason to believe, uninhabited, except by wild beasts,(stone

  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
   
   
  
 
  
  
   
     
  
 
 
 
   
   
   
  
  
   
   
   
    

40 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

of whom, however, I saw none; yet I saw abundance of fowls,
but knew not their kinds ; neither, when I killed them, could
I tell what was fit for food, and what not. At my coming
back, I shot at a great bird, which | saw sitting upon a tree,
on the side of a great wood. I believe it was the first gun that
had been fired there since the creation of the world: I had no
sooner fired, but from all the parts of the wood there arose an
innumerable number of fowls, of many sorts, making a con-
fused screaming, and crying, every one according to his usual
note; but not one of them of any kind that I knew. As for
the creature I killed, I took it to be a kind of a hawk, its color
and beak resembling it, but had no talons or claws more than
common. Its flesh was carrion, and fit for nothing.

Contented with this discovery , 1 came back to my raft, and
fell to work to bring my cargo on shore, which took me up the
rest of that day : what to do with my self at night I knew not,
nor indeed where to rest; for I was afraid to lie down on the
ground, not knowing but some wild beast might devour me;
though, as I afterwards found, there was really no need for
those fears.

However, as well as E could, I barricadoed myself round
with the chests and boards that I had brought on shore, and

made a kind of a hut for that night’s lodging. As for food, i
yet saw not which way to supp sly myself, except that [ had

seen. two or three creatures, like hares, run out of the wood
where | shot the fowl.

I now began to consider, that I might yet get a great many
things out of the ship, which would be useful to me, and par~
ticularly some of the riggine and sails, and such other things
as might come toland; and J resolved to make another voyage
on board the vessel, if possible. And as I knew that the first
storm that blew must necess: wily break her all in pieces, I re-
solved to set all other things apart, till I got every thing out,
of une ship that I could get. ‘Then I called a council, that is®
to say, In my thoughts, whether I should take back the raft: ;
but as appeared impr acticable ; so I resolved to go as before
when the tide was down ; and I did so, only that I strippec
before I went from my hut: having nothing on but a checked
shi irt, a pair of linen drawers, and a pair of pumps on my feet.

I got on board the ship as before, and prepared a second
raft: and having had experience of the first, | neither made
this so unwieldy, nor loaded it so hard, but yet I brought
away several things very useful to me: as, first, in the car-
penter’s plore Ss, found two or three bags of nails and spikes,
a great screw-] jack, a dozen or two of hatchets; and, above all,
that m« ats useful thing called a grindstone. - All these I se-
cured together, with several things belonging to the gunner:ROBINSON CRUSOE. 4]
particularly two or three iron crows, and two barrels of mus-
ket bullets, seven muskets, and another fowling-piece, with
some small quantity of powder more ; a large bag full of small
shot, and a great roll of sheet-lead ; but this last was so heavy,

could not hoist it up to get it over the ship’s side.

Besides these things, I took all the men’s clothes that I could

nd, and a spare fore-top sail, a hammock, and somaegbedding ;
and with this I loaded my second raft, and |
safe on shore, to my very great comfort.

i was under some apprehensions, during my absence from
the land, that at least my provisions might be devoured on
shore; but when I came back, I found no sign of any visitor ;
owy there sat a creature like a wild cat, upon one of the
chests, which, when I came towards it, ran away a little dis.
tance, and then stood still. She sat very composed and un-
coucerned, and looked full in my face, as if she had a mind to

2 un to her, but, as

brought them all

€ acquainted with me. I presented my ¢
She did not understand it, she was perfectly unconcerned at
it, nor did she offer to stir away; upon which I tossed her a
bit of biscuit, though, by the way, 1 was not very free of it,
for my store was not great: however, I spared her a bit, TE say,
and she went to it, smelled of it, and ate it, and looked (as
pleased) for more; but I thanked her, and could spare no
more: so she marched off.

Having got my second cargo on shore—though I w
Oey ‘a oD g

as fain
to open the barrels of powder, and bring them by parcels, for
they were too heavy, being large casks—I went to work to
make me a little tent, with the sail, and some poles, which ]
cut for that purpose; and into this tent L brought every thing
that I knew would spoil either with rain or sun; and I piled
all the empty chests and casks up in a circle round the tent,
to fortify it from any sudden attempt either from man or beast.

When I had done this, I blocked up the door of the tent with
some boards within, and an em ty chest set up on end with-
out;_and spreading one of the beds upon the ground, laying
my two pistols just at my head, and my gun at length by me,
I went to bed for the first time, and slept very quietly all night,
for I was very weary and heavy; for the night before I had
slept little, and had labored very hard all day, as well to fetch
all those things from the ship, as to get them on shore.

I had the biggest magazine of all kinds now that ever was
laid up, I believe, for one man; but I was not satisfied stil];
for while the ship sat upright in that osture, I thought }

ught to get every thing out of her that I could; so every day,
at low water, I went on board, and brought away something
or other; but particularly, the third time I went, I brought
away as much of the rigging as J could, as also all the smal}
ropes and rope-twine I could ‘get, with a piece of spare can-42 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

vass, which was to mend the sails upon occasion, and the bar-

rel of wet gunpowder. In a wor pl brought away all the
sails first and last; only that I was fain to cut them in pieces,
and bring as much at a time as I could; for they were no
more useful to be sails, but as mere canvass only.

But that which comforted me still more, was, that, last of
all, after had made five or six such voyages as these, and
thought 1 had nothing more to expect from the ship that was
worth my meddling with ; I say, after all this, I found a great
hogshead of bread, and three large runlets of rum or spirits,
and a box of sugar, and a barrel of fine flour: this was sur-
prising to me, because I had given over expecting any more
provisions, except what was s yoiled by the water. I soon
emptied the hogshead of that bread, and wrapped it up, par-
cel by parcel, in pieces of the sails, which I cut out; and, in
a word, I got all this safe on shore also.

The next day I made another voyage; and now, having

lundered the ship of what was portable and fit to hand out,
yegan with the cables, and cutting the great cable into pieces,
such as I could move, I got two cables and a hawser on shore,
with all the iron-work I could get; and having cut down the
spritsail-yard, and the mizzen-yard, and every thing I could,
to make a large raft, I loaded it with all those heavy goods, and
came away; but my good luck began now to leave me; for
this raft was so unwieldy, and so overladen, that after I was
entered the little cove, where I had landed the rest of my
goods, not being able to guide it so handily as I did the other,
it overset, and threw me and all my cargo into the water: as for
myself, it was no great harm, for I was near the shore ; but as to
my cargo, it wasa great part of it lost, especially the iron, which
I expected would have been of great use to me: however,
when the tide was out, f got most of the pieces of cable ashore,
and some of the iron, though with infinite labor; for I was
fain to dip for it into the water, a work which fatigued me
very much. After this ] wentevery day on board, and brought
away what I could get.

_Thad been now thirteen days ashore, and had been eleven
times on board the ship; in which time I had brought away
all that one pair of hands could well be supposed capable to
bring; though | believe verily, had the calm weather held, IL
should have brought away the whole ship, piece by piece; but
Peepers the twelfth time to go on board, I found the wind

egan to rise; however, at low water, | went on board; and
though 1 thought I had rammaged the cabin so effectually as
that nothing could be found, yet 1 discovered a locker with
drawers in it, in one of which I found two or three razors, and
one pair of large scissors, with some ten or a dozen of good
knives and forks; in another I found about thirty-six poundsROBINSON CRUSOE, 48
value in money, some European coin, some Brazil, some
pieces of eight, some gold, and some silver.

[ smiled to myself at the sight of this money :. “O drug!”
said f aloud, “ what art thou good for? Thou art not worth
to me, no, not the taking off the ground: one of those knives
1s worth all this heap: I have no menner of use for thee; e’en
remain where thou art, and go to the bottom, as a creature
whose life is not worth saving.” However, upon second
thoughts, I took it away; and wrapping all this in a piece of
canvass, I began to think of making another raft; but while I
was preparing this, I found the s y overcast, and the wind
began to rise, and in a quarter of an hour it blew a fresh gale
from the shore. It presently occurred to me, that it was in
vain to pretend to make a raft with the wind off shore; and
that it was my business to be gone before the tide of flood be-
gan, or otherwise 1 might not ie able to reach the shore at all
Accordingly I let myself down into the water, and swam across
the channel which lay between the ship and the sands, and
even that with difficulty enough, partly with the weight of the
things I had about me, and partly the roughness of the water ;
for the wind rose very hastily, and before it was quite high
water it blew a storm.

But I was got home to my little tent, where I lay, with all
my wealth about me very secure. It blew very hard all that
night, and in the morning, when [ looked out, behold no more
ship was to be seen! I was a little surprised, but recovered
myself with this satisfactory reflection, viz. that I had lost no
time, nor abated no diligence, to get every thing out of her
that could be useful to me, and that, indeed, there was lit-
tle left in her that 1. was able to bring away, if I had had
more time.

T now gave over any more thoughts of the ship, or of any
thing out of her, except what might drive on shore, from her
wreck ; as, indeed, divers pieces of her afterwards did; but
those things were of small use to me.

My thoughts were now wholly employed about securin
myself against either savages, if any should appear, or wil
beasts, if any were in the island; and I had many thoughts of
the method how to do this, and what kind of dwelling to make,
whether I should make me a cave in the earth, or a tent upon
the earth: and, in short, I resolved upon both; the manner and
description of which it may not be improper to give an ac-
count of.

I soon found the place 1 was in was not for my settlement,
particularly because it was a a low, moorish ground, near
the sea, and I believed it would not be wholesome ; and more
particularly because there was no fresh water near it; so |44 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

resolved to find a more healthy and more convenient spot o3
ground. rw

I consulted several things in my situation, which I found
would be proper for me: Ist, Health and fresh water, I just
now mentioned; 2dly, Shelter from the heat of the sun: 3dly,
Security from ravenous creatures, whether men or beasts :
4thly, A view to the sea, that if God sent any ship in sight, |
might not lose any advantage for my deliverance, of which L
was not willing to banish all my expectation yet. |

In search for a place proper for this, [ found a little ae on
the side of a rising hill, whose front towards this little plam
was steep as a house side, so that nothing could come down
upon me trom the top. On the side of this rock, there was a
hollow place, worn a little way in, like the entrance or door
of a cave; but there was not really any cave, or way into the
rock, at all.

On the flat of the green, just before this hollow place,
resolved to pitch.my tent. ‘This plain was-not above a hun-
dred yards broad, and about twice as long, and lay like a green
before my door; and, at the end of it, descended irregularly
every way down into the low ground by the sea-side. It was
on the N.N.W. side of the hill; so that it was sheltered from
the heat every day, till it came toa W. and by S. sun, or there-
abouts, which, in those countries, 1s near the setting.

Before I set up my tent, I drew a half-circle before the hol-
low place, which took in about ten Fards in its semi-diameter
from the rock, and twenty yards in its diameter, from its be-
ginning and ending.

In this halfcircle I pitched two rows of strong stakes,
driving them into the ground till they stood very firm like
piles, the biggest end being out of the ground about five feet
and a half, and sharpened on the top. ‘The two rows did not
stand above six inches from one another.

Then I took the pieces of cable which I cut in the ship, and
laid them in rows, one upon another, within the circle, be-
tween these two rows of stakes, up to the top, placing other
stakes in the inside, leaning against them, about two feet and
a half high, like a spur to a post; and this fence was so strong,
that neither man nor beast could get into it, or over it. This
cost me a great deal of time and labor, especially to cut the
piles in the woods, bring them to the place, and drive them
into the earth.

, ‘The entrance into this place I made to be not by 2 door, but
by a short ladder to go over the top; which ladder, when I
was in, I lifted over after me; and so 1 was completely fenced
in and fortified, as I thought, from all the world, and conse-
quently slept secure in the night, which otherwise [ could vetROBINSON CRUSOR. 45

have done; though, as it appeared afterwards, there was no
need of all this caution from the enemies that 1 apprehended
danger from.

Into this fence, or fortress, with infinite labor, I carried all
my riches, all my provisions, ammunition, and stores, of which
you have the account above ; and I made a large tent, which,
to preserve me from the rains, that in one part of the year are
very violent there, I made double, viz. one smaller tent within,
and one larger tent above it, and covered the uppermost with
a large tarpaulin, which I had saved among the sails.

And now I lay no more for a while in the bed which I had
brought on shore, but in a hammock, which was indeed a very
good one, and belonged to the mate of the ship.

Into this tent I brought all my provisions, and every thing
that would spoil by the wet ; and having thus inclosed all my
goods, I made up the entrance, which till now I had left open,
and so.passed and repassed, as I said, by a short ladder.

When I had done this, I began to work my way into the
rock, and bringing all the earth and stones that I dug down,
out, through my tent, I laid them up within my fence in the
nature of a terrace, so that it raised the ground within about
a foot and a half; and thus I made me a cave, just behind my
tent, which served me like a cellar to my house. It cost me
much labor and many days, before all these things were
brought to perfection; and therefore I must go back to some
other things which took up some of my thoughts. At the
same time it happened, after I had laid my scheme for the

setting up my tent, and making the cave, that a storm of rain

falling from a thick, dark cloud, a sudden flash of lightning
happened, and after that, a great clap of thunder, as is nate
urally the effect of it. Iwas not so much surprised with the
lightning, as I was with a thought, which darted into my mind
as swift as the lightning itself: O my powder ! My very heart
sunk within me when I thought, that at one blast, all my
parce’ might be destroyed; on which, not my defence only,
vut the providing me food, as I thought, entirely depended.

{ was nothing near so anxious about my Own danger, though,
had the powder took fire, [had never known who had hurt me.

Such impression did this make upon me, that after the stérm
was over, I laid aside all my works, my building and fortify-
ing, and applied myself to make bags and boxes, to separate
the powder, and to keep it a little and a little in a parcel, in
hope that whatever might come, it might not all take fire at
once; and to keep it so apart, that it should not be possible
to make one part fire another. I finished this work in about a

fortnight; and I think my powder, which in all was abou:

240 1b. weight, was divided in not less than a hundred parcels

As to the barrel that had been wet, I did not apprehend anyROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

danger from that; so I placed it in my new cave, which, in my
fancy, I called my kitchen, and the rest I hid up and down In
holes among the rocks, so that no wet might come to it,
marking very carefully where 1 laid it.

In the interval of time while this was doing, I went out at
feast once every day with my gun, as well to divert myself, as
to see if I could kill any thing fit for food; and, as near as I
could, to acquaint myself with what the island produced.
The first time I went out, I presently discovered that there
were goats upon the island, which was a great satisfaction to
me; but then it was attended with this misfortune to me, VIZ.
that they were so shy, so subtle, and’so swift of foot, that
it was the most difficult thing in the world to come at
them; but I was not discouraged at this, not doubting but I
might now and then shoot one, as it soon happened ; for after
I had found their haunts a little, I laid wait in this manner for
them: I observed, if they saw me in the valleys, though they
were upon the rocks, they would run away as in a terrible
fright ; but if they were feeding in the valleys, and I was upon
the rocks, they took no notice of me; from whence I conclu-
ded, that, by the position of their optics, their sight was so di-
rected downward, that they did not readily see objects that
were above them: so, afterwards, [ took this method—I al-
vays climbed the rocks first, to get above them, and then hadROBINSON CRUSOE.

frequently a fair mark. The first shot |
Creatures, I killed a she-goat, which had a little kid by her,
which she gave suck to, which grieved me heartily ; but when
the old one fell, the kid stood stock still by her, till I came and
took her up; and not only so, but when T carried the old one
with me, upon my shoulders, the kid followed me quite to my
inclosure ; upon which I laid down the dam, and took the kid
in my arms, and carried it over my pale, in hopes to have
bred it up tame; but it would not eat; so 1 was forced to kill
it, and eat it myself. These two sy

pplied me with flesh a
great while, for I ate sparingly, and preserved m

Y provisions
(my bread especially) as much as possibly I could.
aving now fixed my habitation, nd i
Cessary to provide a place to make a fire in
and what. I did for that, as also how
what conveniences [ made, { shall give a fall account of in
its proper place; but I must first give some little account of
myself, and of my thoughts about living, which, it may well
be supposed, were not a few.

I had a dismal prospect of my condition
Cast away upon that island without being dri
a violent storm, quite out of the course of our
and a great way, viz. some hundreds of le
ordinary course of the trade of mankind, I
to consider it as a determination of Heaven, that in this deso-
late place, and in this desolate manner, I should end my life.
The tears would run plentifully down my face, when I made
these reflections; and sometimes I would expostulate with my-
self why Providence should thus completely ruin its creatures,
and render them so absolutely miserable ; so abandoned Wwith-
out help, so entirely depressed, that it could hardly be rational
to be thankful for such a life. ;

But something always returned swift u
thoughts, and to reprove me; and
walking with my gun in my hand, by the sea-side, I was very
pensive upon the subject of my present condition, when rea:
Son, as it were, expostulated with me tne other way, thus,
“Well, you are in a desolate condition, it is true; but, pray
remember, where are the rest of you! _ Did not, yous came
eleven of you into the boat? Where are the ten? _ Why were
not they saved, and you lost? Why were you singled out?

Is it better to be here or there?” And then I pointed to the
the good that is in

made oe these

; for as | was not
ven, as is said, by
intended voyage,
agues, out of the
had great reason

pon me to check these
articularly, one day,

sea. All evils are to be considered with
hem, and with what worse attends them.

Then it occurred to me again, how well I was furnished for
my subsistence, and what would have been my case if it had
not happened (which was a hundred thousand to one) that the
ship floated from the place where she first struck, and was

444

@

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

driven so near to the shore, that I had time to get all these
things out of her; what would have been my case, if I had
been to have lived in the condition in which I at first came on
shore, without necessaries of life, or necessaries to supply and
procure them? ‘ Particularly,” said I aloud (though to my-
self), ‘ what should I have done without a gun, without ammu-
nition, without any tools to make any thing, or to work with,
without clothes, bedding, a tent, or any manner of covering?”
and that now I had all these to a sufficient quantity, and was
in a fair way to provide myself in such a manner as to live
without my gun, when my ammunition was spent; so that l
had a tolerable view of subsisting, without any want as long as
I lived; for I considered, from the beginning, how I should
provide for the accidents that might happen, and for the time
that was to come, not only after my ammunition should be
spent, but even after my health or strength should decay.

I confess, I had not entertained any notion of my ammuni-
tion being destroyed at one blast, I mean my powder being
blown up by lightning; and this made the thoughts of it so
surprising to me, when it lightened and thundered, as I ob-
served just now.

And now, being to enter in to a melancholy relation of a scene
of silent life. such, perhaps, as was never heard of in the world
before, I shail take it from its beginning, and continue it in ita
order. It was, by my account, the 30th of September, when,
in the manner as above said, I first set my foot upon this hor-
rid island; when the sun, being to us in its autumnal equinox,
was almost just over my head; for I reckoned myself, by ob-
servation, to be in the latitude of 9 degrees 22 minutes north
of the Line.

After I had been there about ten or twelve days, it came into
my thoughts that I should lose my reckoning of time for want
of books, and pen and ink, and should even forget the Sabbath
days from the working days; but, to prevent this, I cut it with
my knife upon a large post, in capital letters; and making it
into a great cross, I set it up on the shore where I first landed,
viz. “I came on shore here on the 30th of September, 1659.”
Upon the sides of this square post I cut every day a notch with
my knife, and every seventh notch was as long again as the
rest, and every first day of the month as long again as that
long one; and thus I kept my calendar, or weekly, monthly,
and yearly reckoning of time.

But it happened, that among the many things which I
brought out of the ship, in the several voyages which, as above
mentioned, I made to it, I got several things of less value, but
not at all less useful to me, which I found, some time after, in
rummaging the chests; as, in particular, pens, ink, and paper ;
several parcels in the captain’s, mate’s, gunner’s, and carpen-ROBINSON CRUSOR. 49
ter’s keeping ; three or four compasses, some mathematical
Instruments, dials, perspectives, charts, and books of naviga-
tion; all which I huddled together, whether ] might want
them or no: also I found three very ao Bibles, which came
fo me in my cargo from England, and which | had packed up
among my things; some Portuguese books also, and, among
them, two or three popish prayer books, and several other
books, all which ] carefully secured. And I must not forget,
that we had in the ship a dog, and two cats, of whose eminent
istory I may have occasion to say something, in its place:
for I carried both the cats with me; and as for the dog. he
Jumped out of the ship himself, and sw
day after [ went on shore with my first cargo, and was a
trusty servant to me for many years: I wanted nothing that he
could fetch me, nor any company that he could make up to
me ; I only wanted to have him talk to me; but that would not
do. _ As I observed before, 1 found pens, ink, and paper, and
I husbanded them to the utmost; and I shall show that while
my ink lasted, I kept things very exact, but after that was
gone I could not; for I could not make any ink, by any means
that I could devise.

And this put me in mind that I wanted many things, not-
withstanding all that I had amassed together; and of these,
this of ink was one; as also a spade, pickaxe, and shovel, to
dig or remove the earth; needles, pins, and thread: as for
linen, I soon learned to want that without much difficulty.

This want of tools made every work I did goon heavily ;
and it was near a whole year before I had entirely finished my

little pale, or surrounded my habitation. The piles or stakes,
which were as heavy as I could well lift, were a long time in
cutting and preparing in the woods, and more, by far, in
bringing home : so that I spent sometimes two days in cutting
and bringing home one of those posts, and a third day in driy-
ing it into the ground; for which purpose, I got a heavy piece
of wood at first, but at last bethought myself of one of the iron
crows; which, however, though I found it, yet it made driving
these posts or piles very laborious and tedious work. But
what need I have been concerned at the tediousness of any
thing I had to do, seeing I had time enough to do it in? nor
had I any other employment, if that had been over, at least
that I could foresee, except the ranging the island to seek for
food ; which I did, more or less, every day.
now began to consider seriously my condition, and the
circumstance I was reduced to; and I drew up the state of
my affairs in writing, not so much to leave them to any that
were to come after me (for I was like to have but few heirs),
as to deliver my thoughts from daily poring upon them, and
afflicting my mind; and as my reason began now to master
3ig ae

 

50 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

   

my despondency, 1 began to comfort myself as well as I could,
and to set the good against the evil, that I might have some-
thing to distinguish my case from worse; and I stated very
impartially, like debtor and creditor, the comforts I enjoyed
against the miseries I suffered, thus :—

Eyit.

I am cast upon a horrible, deso-
late island, void of all hope of re-
covery.

I am singled out and separated,
as it were, from all the world, to
be miserable.

Goop.

But Iam alive; and not drown
ed, as all my ship’s company were.

But I am singled out, too, from
all the ship’s crew, to be spared
from death ; and He that miracu-

   
   
 
  
   
   
 

lousty saved me from death, can
deliver me from this condition.

I am divided from mankind, a But I am not starved, and per-
solitaire; one banished from hu- | ishing in a barren place, affording
man society. no sustenance.

But Iam in a hot climate, where,
if I had-clothes, I could hardly
wear them.

I am without any defence, or But [I am cast on an island
means to resist any violence of | where I see no wild beast to hurt
man or beast. me, as | saw on the coast of Af-
rica; and what if I had been ship-
wrecked there ?

I have no clothes to cover me.

I have no goul to speak fo, or But God wonderfully sent the
relieve me. ship in near enough to the shore,

that | have got cut so many neces-
sary things as will either supply
my wants, or enable me to supply
myself, even as long as I live.

 

Upon the whole, here was an undoubted testimony, that
there was scarce any condition in the world so miserable, but
there was something negative, or something positive, to be
thankful for init; and let this stand as a direction, from the
experience of the most miserable of all conditions in this world,
that we may always find in it something to comfort ourselves
from, and to set, in the description of good and evil, on the
credit side of the account.

Having now brought my mind a little to relish my condition,
and given over looking out to sea, to see if I could spy a ship ;
J say, giving over these things, I began to apply myself to ac-
commodate my way of living, and to make things as easy to
me as I could.

I have already described my habitation, which was a tent
under the side of a rock, surrounded with a strong pale of posts
and cables; but I might now rather call it a wall, for I raised a
kind of wall against it of turfs, about two feet thick on the out-
side; and after some time (I think it was a year and a half)ROBINSON CRUSOE. ol

I raised rafters from it leaning to the rock

covered it with boughs of trees, and such thi

to keep out the rain; which [ found,
very violent.

have already observed how I brought all my goods into

this pale, and into the cave which I had made behind me.
But I must observe, too, that at first this was a confused hea
of goods, which as they lay in no order, so they took up all
my place: I had no room to turn myself: go I set idle to
enlarge my cave, and work farther into the earth; for it was
a loose, sandy rock, which yielded easily to the labor I be-
stowed on it; and when I found I was pretty safe as to the
beasts of prey, | worked sideways, to the right hand, into the
rock, and then, turning to the right again, worked quite out,
and made me a door to come out in the outside of my pale or
fortification,

This gave me not only egress and regress, as it were, a back-
way to my tent and to my storehouse, but gave me room to
stow my goods.

And now I began to apply myself to make

things as I found I most wanted,
table ; for without these I was not able to enjoy the few comforts
I had in the world; I could not write, or eat, or do several
things with so much pleasure, without a table: so I went to
work. And here I must needs observe, that as reason is the
substance and original of the mathematics, so, by stating and
squaring every thing by reason, and by making the most ra-
tional judgment of thine every man may be, in time, master
of every mechanic art.  T had never handled a tool in my life ;
and yet, in time, by labor, application, and contrivance, |
found, at last, that I wanted nothing but I could have made,
especially if I had had tools. However, I made abundance of
things, even without tools; and some with no more tools than
an adze and a hatchet, which perhaps were never made that
way before, and that with en abor. For example, if I
wanted a board, I had no other way but to cut down a tree,
set it on an edge before me, and hew it flat on either side with
my axe, till I had brought it to be as thin as a plank, and then
dub it smooth with my adze. It is true, by this method I
could make but one board of a whole tree; but this I had no
remedy for but patience, any more than I had for a prodigious
deal of time and labor which it took me up to make a plank or
board; but my time or labor was little worth, and so it was as
well empfoyed one way as another.

However, I made me a table and a chair, as I observed
above, in the first place: and this ] did out of the short pieces
of boards that I brought on my raft from the ship. But when
I wrought out some boards. as above, I made large shelves, of

, and thatched or
ngs as I could get,
at Some times of the year,

such necessary
articularly a chair and aee

52

   

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

the breadth of a foot and a half, one over another, all along one
side of my cave, to lay all my tools, nails, and. jron-work on;
and, in a word, to separate every thing at large in their places,
that | might easily come at them. I knocked pieces into the
wall of the rock, to hang my guns, and all things that would
hang up; so that had my cave been seen, 1t looked like a gen-
eral magazine of all necessary things; and 1 had every thing
so ready at my hand, that it was a great pleasure to me to see
all my goods in such order, and especially to find my stock of
all necessaries so great.

And now it was that I began to keep a journal of every
day’s employment; for, indeed, at first, | was in too much
hurry, and not only hurry as to labor, but in much di-compo-
sure of mind: and my journal would, too, have beer full of
many dull things; for example, I must have said: thus—
« Sept. 30th. After I had got to shore, and had escaped drown-
ing, instead of being thankful to God for my deliverance, having
first vomited, with the great quantity of salt water which was
gotten into my stomach, and recovering myself a little, I ran
about the shore, wringing my hands, and beating my head
and face, exclaiming at my misery, and crying out, ‘I was
undone, undone!’ till, tired and faint, I was forced to lie down
on the ground to repose, but durst not sleep, for fear of being
devoured.”

Some days after this, and after I had been on board the
ship, and got all that [could out of her, I could not forbear
getting up to the top of a little mountain, and looking out to
sea, in hopes of seeing a ship; then fancy, that, at a vast dis-
tance, I spied a sail, please myself with the hopes of it, and,
after looking steadily till [ was almost blind, lose it quite, and
sit down and weep like a child, and thus increase my misery
by my folly.

But having gotten over these things in some measure, and
having settled my household-stuff and habitation, made me a
table, and a chair,andall.as handsome about me as I could, |
began to keep my journal; of which I shall here give you the
copy (though in it will be told all these particulars over again)
as long as it lasted; for, having no more ink, I was forced to
leave it off.

THE JOURNAL.

September 30tn, 1659. 1, poor, miserable Robinson Crusoe,
being shipwrecked, during a dreadful storm, in the offing
tee ? INS

zanie on shore on this dismal, unfortunate island, whic I
called the Istanp or Despair; all the rest of the ship’s com-
tiny being drowned, and myself almost dead.ROBINSON CRUSOE, 53
_All the rest of that day I spent in afflicting myself at the
dismal circumstances I was brought to, viz. I had neither food,
house, clothes, weapon, nor place to fly to; and, in despair
of any relief, saw nothing but death before me; that I should
either be devoured by wild beasts, murdered by savages, or
starved to death for want of food. - At the approach of night |
slept in a tree, for fear of wild creatures; but slept soundly,
though it rained all night.
October 1. In the morning I saw, to my great surprise, the
ship had floated with the high tide, and was driven on shore
again much nearer the island ; which, as it was some comfort
on one hand (for seeing her sit upright, and not broken in
pieces, I hoped, if the wind abated, I might get on board, and
get some food and necessaries out of her for my relief), so on
the other hand, it renewed my grief at the loss of my comrades,
who, I imagined, if we had all staid on board, might have
saved the ship, or, at least, that they would not have been all
drowned, as they were ; and that, had the men been saved,
we might perhaps have built us a boat, out of the ruins of the
ship, to have carried us to some other part of the world, ]
Spent great part of this day in perplexing myself on these
things; but, at length, seeing the ship alraost dry, I went upon
the sand as near as I could, and then swam on board. This
day also it continued raining, though with no wind at all.
From the Ist of October to the 24th. All these days entirely
spent in many several voyages to get all I could out of the
ship ; which I brought on shore, every tide of flood, upon rafts,
Much rain also in these days, though with some intervals of
fair weather ; but it seems this was the rainy season.
Oct. 20. I overset my raft, and all the goods I had
it; but being in shoal water, and the things bein
heavy, I recovered many of them when the tide was

Oct. 25. It rained all night and all day,

wind ; during which time .the skip,
blowing a little harder th nt béfote), and was no more to be
seen, except the wreck of fér, dnd the; only at low water. J
spent this day in covering and securing the goods which I haq
saved, that the rain might not spoil them.

Oct. 26. I walked about the shore almost all day, to fina
out a place to fix my habitation ; greatly concerned to secure
mayecl Gon any attack in the night, either from wild beasts or
men. ‘Towards night I fixed upon a proper place, under a
rock, and marked out a semicircle for my encampment ;
which I resolved to strengthen with a work, wall, or fortifica-
tion, made of double piles, lined within with cables, and witn
out with turf.

From the 26th to the 30th, I-worked ver
all my goods to my new habitation, tho
time it rained exceedingly hard.

got upon
g chiefly
out.

with some gusts of
broke in pieces (the wind

y hard in carrying
ugh some part of theROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

The 3ist, in the morning, I went out intv the island with
my gun, to seek for some food, and discover the country ;
when [ killed a she-goat, and her kid followed me home, which
I afterwards killed also, because it would not feed.

November 1. I set up my tent under a rock, and lay there
for the first night ; te it as large as [ could, with stakes
driven in to swing my hammock upon.

Nov. 2. Iset up all my chests and boards, and the pieces
of timber which made my taf{s ;, and with them formed a fence
round me, a little within tae’ plage 1 had marked out for my
fortification. YS

Nov. 3. 1 went out with my gun, and killed two fowls like
ducks, which were very good food. In the afternoon I went
to work to make me a table.

Nov. 4. This morning I began to order my times of work,
of going out with my gun, time of sleep, and time of diver-
sion; viz. every morning I walked out with my gun for two
or three hours, if it did not rain; then employed myself
to work till about eleven o’clock; then ate what I had to live
on; and from twelve to two I lay down to sleep, the weather
being excessive hot; and then, in the evening, to work again.
he working part of this day and the next was wholly ems
ployed in making muy table, for I was yet bur 4 very sorryROBINSON CRUSOE. 55
workinar , though time and necessity made me a complete
natural mechanic soon after, as I believe they would any
one else.

Nov. 5. This day went abroad with my gun and dog, and
killed a wild cat; her skin pretty soft, but her flesh good for
nothing : of every creature that I killed I took off the skins,
and preserved them. Coming back by the sea-shore, 1 saw
many sorts of sea-fowl which I did not understand; but was
surprised, and almost frightened, with two or three seals ;
which, while I was azing at them (not well knowing what
they were), got into the sea, and escaped me for that time.

Nov. 6. After my morning eee went to work with my
table again, and finished it, though not te my liking ; nor was
it long before [ learned to mend it.

Nov. 7. Now it began to be settled fair weather. The 7th,
8th, 9th, 10th, and part of the 12th (for the llth was Sunday,
according to my oe) I took wholly up to make me a
chair, and with much ado, brought it to a tolerable shape, but
never to please me; and, even in the making, 1 pulled it in
pieces several times.

Note. I soon neglected my keeping Sundays; for, omitting
my mark for them on my post, I orgot which was which.

Nov. 13. This day ‘it rained ; which refreshed me exceed-
ingly, and cooled the earth; but it was accompanied with ter-
rible thunder and lightning, which frightened me dreadfully,
for fear of my powder. As soon as it was over, I resolved to
separate my stock of powder into as many little parcels as
possible, that it might not be in danger.

Nov. 14, 15,16. These three days I spent in making little
square chests or boxes, which might hold about a pound, or
two pounds at most, of powder; and so, putting the powder
in, I stowed it in places as secure and as remote from one
another as possible. On one of these three days I killed a

-arge bird that was good to eat; but I knew not what to call it.

ov. 17. ‘This day I began to dig behind my tent, into tle

rock, to make room for my farther convenience.

Note. Three things I wanted exceedingly for this work
viz. a pickaxe, a shovel, anda wheelbarrow, or basket; sot
deante from my work, and began to consider how to supply
these wants, and make me some tools. As for a pickaxe, I
made use of the iron crows, which were roper enough, though
heavy ; but the next thing was a shovel or site ; this was so
absolutely necessary, that, indeed, I could do nothing effect-
ually without it; but what kind of one to make I knew not.

Nov. 18. The next day, in searching the woods, I found a
tree of that wood, or like it, which, in the Brazils, they call
the iron tree, from its exceeding hardness: of this, with great
labor, and almost spoilirg my axe, I cut a piece, and brought56 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

it home, too, with difficulty enough, for it was exceeding
heavy. The excessive hardness of the wood, and my having
no other way, made me along while upon this machine ; for
worked it effectually, by little and little, into the form of a
shovel or spade ; the handle exactly shaped like ours in England,
only that the broad part having no iron shod upon it at bottom,
it would not last me so long: however, it served well enough
for the uses which I had occasion to put it to; but never
was a shovel, I believe, made after that fashion, or so long
a-making.

I was still deficient ; for 1 wanted a basket, or a wheelbar-
row. A basket I could not make by any means, having no
such things as twigs that would bend to make wicker ware ;
at least, none yet found out; and as to the wheelbarrow, I
fancied I could make all but the wheel, but that I had no notion
of; neither did I know how to go about it: besides, I had no
possible way to make iron gudgeons for the spindle or axts of
the wheel to run in: so I gave it over: and, for carrying away
the earth which I dug out of the cave, I made me a thing like
a hod, which the laborers carry mortar in for. the bricklayers.
This was not so difficult to me as the making the shovel; and
yet this and the shovel, and the attempt which I made in vain
to make a wheelbarrow, took me up no less than four days;
I] mean always excepting my morning walk with my gun,
which I seldom omitted, and very seldom failed also bringing
home something fit to eat.

Nov. 23. My other work having now stood still, because of
my making these tools, when they were finished I went on;
and, working every day, as my strength and time allowed, [
spent eighteen days entirely in widening and deepening my
cave, that it might hold my goods commodiously.

Note. During all this time, I worked to make this room, or
cave, spacious enough to accommodate me as a warehouse or
magazine, a kitchen, a dining-room, and a cellar. As for a
lodging, I kept to the tent; except that, sometimes, in the wet
season of the year, it ramed so hard that I could not keep my-
self dry ; which caused me afterwards to cover all my place
within my pale with long poles,gn the form of rafters, leaning
against the rock, and loaded them with flags and large leaves
of trees, like a thatch.

December 10. 1 began now to think my cave or vault fin-
ished; when on a sudden (it seems I had made it too lenge) a
great quantity of earth fell down from the top .and one side;
so much, that, in short, it frightened me, and not without rea-
son too; for if I had been under it, I should never have want-
ed a grave-digger. Upon this disaster, I had a great deal of
work to do over again, for I had the loose earth to carry out ;
and, which was of more importance, 4 had the ceiling to’ prop
up, so that I might be sure no more would come down.ROBINSON CRUSOE. &7

Dec.11. This day I went to work with it accordingly, and
got two shores or posts pitched upright to the top, with twe
pieces of board across over each post: this I finished the next
day ; and setting more posts up with boards, in about a week
more I had the roof secured; and the posts, standing in rows,
semed me for partitions to part off my house.

Dec. 17. From this day to the 30th, I placed shelves, and
knocked up nails on the posts, to hang every thing up that
could be hung up: and now I began to be in some order
within doors.

Lec. 20. I carried every thing into the cave, and began to
furnish nry house, and set up some pieces of boards, like a
dresser to order my victuals u on; but boards began to be
very scarce with me: also I made me another table.

Dec, 24, Much rain all night and all day ; no stirring out.

Dec. 25. Rain all day.

Dec. 26. No rain; and the earth much cooler than before,
and pleasanter.

Dec. 27. - Killed a young goat; and lamed another, so that
! catched it, and led it home in a string: when I had it home,
J bound and splintered up its leg, which was broke.

NV. B. I took such care of it that it lived; and the leg grew
well, and as strong as ever; but, by nursing it so long, it grew
tame, and fed upon the little green at my door, and would not
go away. ‘I’his was the first time that I entertained a thought
of breeding up some tame creatures, that I might have food
when my powder and shot was all spent.

Dec. 28, 29, 30, 31. Great heats, and no breeze; so that
there was no stirring abroad, except in the evening, for food :
this time I spent in putting all my things in order within doors.

January 1. Very hot still; but I went abroad early and
late with my gun, and lay still in the middle of the day. This
evening, going farther into the valleys which lay towards the
centre of the island, I found there was plenty of goats, though
exceeding shy, and hard to come at; however, I resolved to
try if f could not bring my dog to hunt them down. Accord-
ingly, the next day, went out with my dog, and set him
upon the goats: but I was mistaken, for they all faced about
upon the dog; and he knew his danger too well, for he would
not come near them.

Jan. 3. UL began my fence or wall; which, being still jealous
of my being attacked by somebody, I resolved to make very
thick and strong.

NV. B. This wall being described before, I purposely omit
what was said in the journal: it is sufficient to observe, that I
was no less time than from the 3d of January to the 14th of

April, working, finishing, and perfecting this wall: though it58 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

was no more than about 25 yards in length, being a half-circle,
from one place in the rock to another place, about twelve
yards from it, the door of the cave being in the centre,
behind it. : : ;

All this time I worked very hard; the rains hindering me
many days, nay, sometimes weeks together: but I thought I
should never be perfectly secure till this wall was finished ;
and it is scarce credible what inexpressible- labor every thing
was done with, especially the bringing piles out of the woods,
and driving them into the ground ; for I made them much big-
ger than I needed to have done. : ;

When this wall was finished, and the outside double-fenced,
with a turf-wall raised up close to it, I persuaded myself that
if any people were to come on shore there, they would not pers
ceive any thing like a habitation; and it was very well Fdid
so, as may be observed hereafter, upon a very remarkaNe
occasion.

During this trme, I made my rounds in the woods for gartre
every day, when the rain permitted me, and made frequent
discoveries, in these walks, of something or other to my advan-
tage; particularly, I found a kind of wild pigeons, who build:
not as wood-pigeons, in a tree, but rather as house-pigeons, in
the holes of the rocks: and, taking some young ones, | en-
deavored to breed them up tame, and did so: but when they
grew older, they flew all away; which, perhaps, was at first
for want of feeding them, for I had nothing to give them: how-
ever I frequently found their nests, and got their young ones,
which were very good meat. And now, in the managing my
household affairs, I found myself wanting in many things
which i thought at first it was impossible for m@ to make, as
indeed, as to some of them, it was: for instance,. could never
make a cask to be hooped. I had a small runlet or two, as I
observed before; but I could never arrive to the capacity of
making one by them, though I spent many weeks abcut it
could neither put in the heads, nor join the staves so true to one
another as to make them hold water-; so I gave that also over
In ihe next place, I was at a great loss for candles; so that as
Soon as it was dark, which was generally by seven o clock, 1
was obliged to go to bed. Iremember the lump of bees-wax
with which I made candles in my African adventure; but I
had none of that now; the only remedy I had was, that when
Thad killed a goat { saved the tallow; and with a little dish
made of clay, which I baked in the sun, to which I added a
wick of some oakum, I made me a lamp; and this gave me
light, though not a clear, steady light, like a candle. In the
middle of all my labors it happened, that, in rummaging my
things, [ found a little bag; which, as I hinted before, had
been filled with corn, for the feeding of poultry; not for thisROBINSON CRUSOE,

 

voyage, but before, as 1 suppose, when the ship came from
Lisbon. What little remainder of corn had been in the bag
was all devoured with the rats, and I saw nothing in the bag
but husks and dust; and being willing to have the bag for
some other use (1 think it was to put powder in, when I di-
vided it for féar of the lightning, or some such use), J shook
the husks ef corn out of it, on one side of my fortification,
under the rock.

It was a little before the great rain just now mentioned, that
i threw this stuff away; taking no notice of any thing, and
not so much as remembering that I had thrown any thin
there; when about a month after, | saw some few stalks ae
something green, shooting out of the ground, which I fancied
might be some plant I had not seen; but I was surprised, and
pertectly astonished, when, after a little longer time, I saw
about ten or twelve ears come out, which were perfect green
barley, of the same kind as our European, nay, as eur English
barley.

It is impossible to express the astonishment ard confusion
of my thoughts on this occasion: I had hitherto acted upon
no religious foundation at all; indeed, I had very few notions of
celigion in my head, nor had entertained any sense of any
thing that had befallen me, otherwise than as chance, or, as
we lightly say, what pleases God; without so much as m-5 ea ORT Giclees,

66 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

quiring into the end of Providence in these things, or his order
in governing events in the world. But after I saw barley grow
there, in a climate which I knew was not proper for corn, and
especially as I knew not how it came there, it startled me
strangely ; and I began to suggest, that God had miraculously
caused this grain to grow without any help of seed sown, and
that it was so directed purely for my sustenance, on that wild,
miserable place.

This touched my heart a little, and brought tears out of my
eyes; and | began to bless myself that such a prodigy of na-
ture should happen upon my account: and this was the more
strange to me, because I’ saw near it still, all along by the side
of the rock, some other straggling stalks, which proved to be
stalks of rice, and which I knew, because I had seen it grow
in Africa, when I was ashore there.’ oie

{ not only thought these the pure productions of Providence
for my support, but, not doubting that. there was more in the
nlace, I went over all that part of the island where f had been
before searching in every corner, and under every rock, for
more of it; but I] could not find any. At last it occurred to my
thoughts, that I had shook cut a bag of chicken’s-meat in that
place, and then the wonder began to cease ; and I must confess,
my religious thankfulness to God’s providence began to abate
too, upon the discovering that all this was nothing but what
was common; though I ought to have been as thankful for so
strange and unforeseen a providence, as if it had been mirac-
ulous ; for it was really the work of Providence, as to me, that
should order or appoint that ten or twelve grains of corn should
remain unspoiled, when the rats had destroyed all the rest, as if
it had been dropped from heaven; as also, that I should throw
it out in that particular place, where, it being in the shade
of a high rock, it sprang up immediately; whereas, if I had
thrown it any where else, at that time, it would have been
burnt up and destroyed.

I carefully saved the ears of this corn, you may be sure, in
their season, which was about the end of June; and, laying up
every corn, I resolved té sow them all again; hoping, in time,

to have some quantity sufficient to supply me with bread.
But it was not till the fourth year that I could allow myself
the least grain of this corn to eat, and even then, but sparingly,
as I shall show afterwards, in its order; for I lost all that I
sowed the first season, by not observing the proper time; as I
sowed just before the dry season, so that it never came up at
all, at least not as it would have done; of which in its place.
Besides this barley, there were
stalks of rice, which I pre served with the same care
whose use was ot the same kind, or to the same purpose, VIZ.

to make me bread, or rather food; for I found ways to cook it

, as above, twe nty or thirty

   

a7
ae HE LS |ROBINSON CRUSOE, 61

up without baking, though 1 did

But to return to my journal,

I worked excessively hard these three or four months, to get
my wall done; and the 14th of April I closed it up; contriv-
ing to get into it, not by a door, but over the wall, by a ladder,
that there might be no sign on the outside of my habitation.

April 16. I finished the ladder; so I went up with the
ladder to the top, and then pulled it up after me, and let it

own in the inside : this was a complete inclosure to me; for

within I had room enough, and nothing could come
from without, unless it could first mount my wall.
he very next day after this wall was finished, 1 had almost

all my labor overthrown at once, and myself killed: the case
was thus :—As I was busy in the inside of it, behind my tent,
Just at the entrance into my_ cave, I was terribly frightened
with a most dreadful surprising thing indeed; for, all on a
sudden, I found the earth come crumbling down from the roof
of my cave, and from the edge of the hill over my head, and
two of the posts ] had set up in the cave cracked in a frightful
Manner. 1 was heartily scared; but thought nothing of what
really was the cause, only thinking that the top of my cave was
falling in, as some of it had done before ; and for fear [I should
be buried in it, I ran forward to my ladder, and not thinking
myself safe there neither, I got over my wall for fear of thie
pieces of the hill which ] expected might roll down upon me.

1 had no sooner stepped down upon the firm ground, than I
plainly saw it was a terrible earthquake; for the ground [|
stood on shook three times at about eight minutes’ distance,

with three such shocks as would have overturned the strongest

building that could be supposed to have stood on the earth ;

and a great piece of the top of a rock, which stood about half

a mile from me, next the sea, fell down, with such a terrible
noise as I never heard in all my life. I perceived also, that
the very sea was put into a violent motion ee it; and I believe
the shocks were stronger under the water than on the island,

{ was so much amazed with the thing itself (having never
felt the like, nor discoursed with any one that had), that I was
ike one dead or stupefied; and the motion of the earth made
my stomach sick, like one that was tossed at sea: but the noise
of the falling of the rock awaked me, as it were ; and rousing
me from the stupefied condition I was in, filled me with horror,
and { thought of nothing but the hill falling upon my tent-and
my household goods, and burying all at once: this sunk my
very soul within me a second time.

After the third shock was over, and I felt, no more for some
time, I began to take coun yet | had not heart enough to
of being buried alive, but sat
stil upon the ground, greatly cast down, and disconsolate, not

that also after some time.—

at me

 

 
  

go over my wall again, for fearSs aap (25 te

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
 
   

62 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

knowing what to do. All this while, I had not the least serious
religious thought ; nothing but the common Lord, have mercy
upon me! and when it was over, that went away too.

While | sat thus, I found the air overcast, and grow cloudy
as if it would rain; and soon after the wind rose by little an
little, so that in Jess than half an hour it blew a most dreadful
hurricane: the sea was, all on a sudden, covered with foam
and froth; the shore was covered with a breach of the water ;
the trees were torn up by the roots; and a terrible storm it
was. This held about three hours, and then began to abate;
and in two hours more it was quite calm, and began to rain
very hard. All this while I sat upon the ground, very much
terrified and dejected; when, on a sudden, it came into my
thoughts, that these winds and rain being the consequence of
the earthquake, the earthquake itself was spent and over, and
I might venture into my cave again. With this thought my
spirits began to revive; and the rain also helping to persuade
me, I went in, and sat down in my tent; but the rain was so
violent, that. my tent was ready to be beaten down with it;
and I was forced to get into my cave, though very much
afraid and uneasy, for fear it should fall on my head. This
violent rain forced me to a new work, viz. to cut a hole through
my new fortification, like a sink, to let the water go out,
which would else have drowned my cave. After I had been
in my cave for some time, and found no more shocks of the
earthquake follow, I began to be more composed. And now,
to support my spirits, which, indeed, wanted it very much, I
went to my little store, and took a small sup of rum; which,
however, I did then, and always, very sparingly, knowing I
could have no more when that was gone. It continued raining
all that night, and great part of the next day, so that I could
not stir abroad; but my mind being more composed, I began
to think of what I had best do; concluding, that if the island
was subject to these earthquakes, there would be no living for
mein a cave, but I must. consider of building me some little
hut in an open place, which I might surround with a wall, as
I had done here, and so make myself secure from wild beasts
or men; for if I staid where I was, I should certainly, one
time or other, be buried alive.

With these thoughts, I resolved to remove my tent from the
place where it now stood, being just under the hanging preci-
pice of the hill, and which, if it should be shaken again, would
certainly fall upon my tent. I spent the two next days, being
the 19th and 20th of April, in contriving where and how to
remove my habitation. The fear of being swallowed alive
affected me so, that I never slept in quiet; and yet the appre-
hension of lying abroad, without any fence, was almost equal
to it: but still, when I looked about, and saw how every thingROBINSON CRUSUR. 63

wag put in order, how pleasantly 1 was concealed. and how
safe from danger, it made me very loth to remove. In the
mean time, it occurred to me that it would require a vast deal
of time for me to do this; and that I must be contented
the risk where ] was, till I had formed a convenient cam
secured it so as to remove to it. With this conclusion

to run
, and

com-
posed myself for a time; and resolved that 1 would go to work

with all speed to build me a wall with pues and cables, &c., in
a circle, as before, and set up my tent in it when it was fin-
ished ; but that I would venture to stay where I was till it was
seady and fit to remove to. . This was the Qist,

April 22.. The next morning, I began to consider of means
to put this measure into execution ; Bet I was at a great loss
about the tools. I had three large axes, and abundance of
hatchets (for we carried the hatchets for traffic with the In-
dians); but with much chopping and cutting knotty, hard wood,
they were all full of notches, and dull; and though I had a
grindstone, I could not turn it and grind my tools too. This
caused me as much thought as a statesman would have be-
stowed upon a grand point of politics, or a judge upon the
life and death of a man. At length I contrived a wheel with
a string, to turn it with my foot, that I might have both my
hands at liberty.

Note. Thad never seen any such thing in England, or, at
least, not to take notice how it was done; though since, I have
observed it is very common there: besides that, my grindstone
was very large and heavy. This machine cost me a full week’s
work to bring it to perfection.

April 28, 29. These two whole days I took up in grinding
my tools, my machine for turning my grindstone performing
very well.

April 30. Having pemelied that my bread had been low a
great while, I now took a survey of it, and reduced myself te
one biscuit-cake a day, which made my heart very heavy.

May 1. In the morning, looking toward the sea-side, the
tide being low, I saw something lie on the shore bigger than,
ordinary, and it looked like a cask: when [ came to it, I found .

a small barrel, and two or three pieces of the wreck of the
ship, which were driven on shore by the late hurricane ; and
looking towards the wreck itself, I thought it seemed to lie
higher out of the water than it used to do. I examined the
barrel that was driven on shore, and soon found it was a barrel

of gunpowder; but it had taken water, and the powder was
caked as hard asa stone; however, I rolled it farther on the
shore for the present, and went on upon the sands, as near as
I could to the wreck of the ship, to look for more.

When I came down to the ship, I found it strangely re-
moved. The forecastle, which lay before buried in sand, was64 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

  

heaved up at least six feet; and the stern (which was broke to
pieces, and parted from the rest, by the force of the sea, soon
after I had left rummaging of her) was tossed, as it were, up,
and cast on one side; and the sand was thrown so high on that
side next her stern, that I could now walk quite up to her
when the tide was out; whereas there was a great piece of
water before, so that I could not come within a quarter of a
:- mile of the wreck without swimming. Iwas surprised with
this at first, but soon concluded it must be done by the earth-
quake; and as by this violence the ship was more broke open
than formerly, so many things came daily on shore, which the
| sea had loosened, and which the winds and wager rolled by
degrees to the land. :
Q) ‘his wholly diverted my thoughts from the design of remov-

: ing my habitation; and I busied myself mightily, that day
especially, in searching whether I could make any way into
ae the ship; but I found nothing was to be expected of that kind,
. for all the inside of the ship was choked up with sand. How-

ever, as I had learned not to despair of any thing, I resolved
to pull every thing to pieces that I could of the ship, conclu-
ding that every thing I could get from her would be of some use
j or other to me.
| May 3. 1 began with my saw, and cut a piece of a beam
‘ through, ‘hich thought held some of the upper part or quar-
f | ter-deck together ; and when I had cut it through, | cleared

Hl away the sand as well as I could from the side which lay high-
est; but the tide coming in, I was obliged to give over for
that time.

a May 4. I went a-fishing, but caught not one fish that I
c durst eat of, till I was weary of my sport; when, just going to
in leave off, [ caught a young dolphin. I had made me a long

' line of some rope-yarn, but I had no hooks: yet I frequently
‘ caught fish enough, as much as I cared to eat; all which ]
pei dried in the sun and ate them dry.

i May 5. Worked on the wreck ; cut another beam asunder,
and brought three great fir-planks off from. the decks; which
I tied together, and made swim on shore when the tide of flood
came on.

May 6. Worked on the wreck; got several iron bolts out
of her, and other pieces of iron-work; worked very hard,
and came home very much tired, and had thoughts of giving
fi It over.
fee May i. Went to the wreck again, but not with an intent to
work ; but found the weight of the wreck had broke itself

th

down, the beams being cut; that several pieces of the ship
c ma +7 1 } (ny aed Be ee Pa) } 7 1 4
seemed to lie loose ; and the inside of the hold lay so open that

fry eI ~¢ 9 + ‘ . 4 « ] 4 Catt ~ LF ee
I could see into it; but almost full of water and sand

ce 4 DP Qe Gass ete pe ee erm eae 2 ye AIC
Pe May 8. Went to the wreck, and carried an iron crow toROBINSON CRUSOE, 65
wrench up the deck, which lay now quite cle
and sand. I wrenched up two planks, and |
shore also with the tide, T

next day.
_ May 9. Went to the wreck, and with the crow made way
into the body of the wreck, and felt several casks, and loosened
them with the crow, but could not break them up. I felt
also’ a roll of English lead, and could stir it; but it was too
heavy to remove.

May 10—14. Went every day to the wreck ;
great many pieces of timber, and boards, or pl
or three hundred weight of iron.

May 15. 1 carried two hatchets, to try if 1 could not cut a
piece off-the roll of lead, by placing the edge of one hatchet,
and driving it with the other; but as it lay about a foot and a
half in the water, 1 could not make any blow to drive the
hatchet.

May 16. It had blown hard in the night, and the wreck ap-
peared more broken by the force of the water; but I staid so

long in the woods, to get pigeons for food, that the tide pre-
vented my going to the wreck that day.

May 17. 1 saw some pieces of the wreck blown on shore, at
a great distance, two miles off me, but resolved to see what
they were, and found it was a piece of the head, but too heavy
for me to bring away.

May 24. Every day, to this day, I worked on the wreck ;
and with hard labor I loosened some things so much with the
crow, that the first blowing tide, several casks floated out, and
two of the seamen’s chests; but the wind blowing from the
shore, nothing came to land that day but pieces of timber,
and a hogshead, which had some Brazil pork in it; but the
salt-water and the sand had spoiled it. I continued this work
every day to the 15th of June, except the time necessary to
get food; which | always appointed, during this part of my
employment, to be when the tide was up, that I might be ready
when it was ebbed out; and by this time I had gotten timber,
and plank, and iron-work, enough to have built a good boat,
if I had known how; and | also got, at several times, and in
several pieces, near one hundred weight of the sheet-lead.

June 16. Going down to the sea-side, I found a large tor-
toise, or turtle. This was the first I had seen ; which, it
seems, was only my misfortune, not any defect of the place or
scarcity ; for had I happened to be on the other side of the
island, I might have had hundreds of them every day, as }
found afterwards; but perhaps had paid dear enough for them.

June 17 I spent in cooking ‘the turtle. I found in her
threescore eggs; and her flesh was to me, at that time, the
most savory and pleasant that | ever tasted in my life ; having

ar of the water
Drought them on
left the iron crow in the wreck for

and got a
ank, and twaen

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

  
 

Woes

  

Y XS
AW SS .
ATR
CAN A 5 2

   

   

  
   

     
       

aK og ~ Pepa 28
i by f Pre SL ATI ~ Ws R :
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had no flesh, but of goats and fowls, since I landed in. this
horrid place. ae SN

June18. Rained all that day, and I staid within. I thought,
at this time, the rain felt cold, and 1 was somewhat chilly ;
which I knew was not usual in that latitude.

June 19. Very ill, and shivering, as if the weather had
been cold.

June 20. No rest all night; violent pains in my head, and
feverish.

June 21. Very ill; frightened almost to death with the ap-
prehensions of my sad condition, to be sick, and no help;
prayed to God for the first time since the storm off Hull; but
scarce knew what I said, or why, my thoughts being all
confused.

June 22. A little better; but under dreadful apprehensions
of sickness.

June 23. Very bad again; cold and shivering, and then a
violent headache.

June 24. Much better.

June 25. Anague very violent: the fit held me seven hours;
cold fit, and hot, with faint sweats after it.

June 26. Better; and having no victuals to eat, took my
gun, but found myself very weak : however, I killed a she-goat,
and with much difficulty got it home, and broiled some of it,ROBINSON CRUSOE. 67
and ate. I would fain have stewed it, and made some broth,

but had no pot.

June 27. The ague again so violent that I lay a-bed
and neither ate nor drank. [ was ready
but so weak, I had not strength to st
any water to drink. .Prayed to God again, but was li¢ht-
headed: and when I was not, I was so ignorant that I knew
not what to say; only lay and cried, ‘‘ Lord, look upon
me! Lord, pity me! Lord, have merey upon me!” I'sup-
pose I did nothing else for two or three hours ; till, the fit wear-
ing off, I fell asleep, and did not wake till far in the night.

hen I awoke, I found myself much refreshed, but weak, and
exceeding thirsty : however, as 1 had no water in my whole
habitation, I was forced to lie till morning, and went to slee
again. In this second sleep, I had this terrible dream - 1
thought that 1 was sitting on the ground, on the outside of my
wall, where I sat when the storm blew after the earthquake,
and that I saw aman descend from a great black cloud, in a
bright flame of fire, and light u

[ 90n the ground: he was all
over as bright as a flame, so that I could but just bear to look

towards him; his countenance was most inexpressibly dread-
ful, impossible for words to describe: when he stepped upon
the ground with his feet, I thought the earth trembled, just as
it had done before in the earthquake: and all the air looked,
to my apprehension, as if it had been filled with flashes of fire.
He had no sooner landed upon the earth, but he moved for-
ward towards me, with a long spear or weapon in his hand to
kill me; and when he came to a rising ground, at some dis-
tance, he spoke to me, or I heard a voice so terrible that it is
impossible to express the terror of it: all that I can say I
understood, was this: “ Seeing all these things have not
brought thee to repentance, now thou shalt die;” at which
words I thought he lifted up the spear that was in his hand to
kill me.

No one that shall ever read this account, will expect that I
should be able to describe the horrors of my soul at this terrible
vision; I mean that even while it was a dream, I even dreamed
of those horrors; nor is it any more possible to describe the
impression that remained upon my mind, when I awaked, and
found it was but a dream.

I had, alas! no divine knowledge: what I had received by
the good instruction of my father, was then worn out, by an
uninterrupted series, for eight years, of seafaring wickedness,
and a constant conversation with none but such as were, like
myself, wicked and. profane to the last degree. Ido not re-
member that I had, in all that time, one thought that so much
as tended either to looking upward towards God, or imward
towards a reflection upon my own ways: but a certain stu-

| all day,
to perish for thirst;
and up, or to get myselfRite ae

a eaniamnmip. tela

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

68

idity of soul, without desire of good, or consciousness of evil,
ed entirely overwhelmed me; and I was all that the mosv
hardened, unthinking, wicked creature, among our common
sailors, can be supposed to be; not having the least. sense,
either of the fear of God, in danger, or of thankfulness to him,
in deliverances. . Hpac

In the relating what is already past of my story, this will be
the more easily believed, when I ail add, that, through all the
variety of miseries that had to this day befallen me, I never
had so much as one thought of its being the hand of God, or
that it was a just punishment for my sin; either my rebellious
behavior against my father, or my present sins, which were
great; or even as a punishment for the general course of my
wicked life. When I was on the desperate expedition on the
desert shores of Africa, I never had so much as one thought
of what would become of me; or one wish to God to direct me
whither I should go, or to keep me from the danger which ap-
parently surrounded me, as well from voracious creatures, as
cruel savages: but I was quite thoughtless of a God or a Prov-
idence ; acted like a mere brute, from the principles of nature,
and by the dictates of common sense only; and, indeed,
hardly that. When I was delivered and taken up at sea, by
the Portuguese captain, well used, and. dealt with justly and
honorably, as well as charitably, I had not the least thankful-
ness in my thoughts. When, again, I was shipwrecked,
ruined, and in danger of drowning, on this island, I was as far
from remorse, or looking on it as a judgment: I only said to
myself often, that I was an unfortunate dog, and born to be
always miserable.

It is true, when I first got on shore here, and found all my
ship’s crew drowned, and myself spared, 1 was.surprised with
a kind of ecstasy, and some transports of soul, which, had the
grace of God assisted, might have come up to true thankful-
ness; but it ended where it began, in a mere common flight
of joy; or, as I may say, being glad I was alive, without the
least reflection upon the distinzuished goodness of the hand
which had_ preserved me, and had singled me out to be pre-
served when all the rest were destroyed, or an inquiry why
Providence had been thus merciful to me; just the same com-
mon sort of joy which seamen generally have, after they are
got safe ashore from a shipwreck; which they drown all in
the next bowl of punch, and forget almost as soon as it is over;
and all the rest of my life was like it. Even when I was, af-
terwards, on due consideration, made sensible of my condition,
—how I was cast on this dreadful place, out of the reach of
human kind, out of all hope of relief, or prospect of redemp-
tion,—as soon as I saw but a prospect of living, and that I
should not starve and perish for hunger, all the sense of myROBINSON CRUSOE. 69
affliction wore off, and I began to be very easy, applied myself
to the works proper for my preservation and supply, and was
far enough from eing afflicted at my condition, as a judgment
from Heaven, or as the hand of God against me: these were
thoughts which very seldom entered into my head.
“he growing up of the corn, as is hinted in my journal, had,
at first, some little influence upon me, and began to affect me
with seriousness, as long as I thought it had something mirac-
ulous in it; but as soon as that part of the thought was re-
moved, all the impression which was raised from it wore off
also, as I have noted already. Even the earthquake, though
nothing could be more terrible in its nature, or more imme-
diately directing to the invisible Power which alone directs
such things, yet no sooner was the fright over, but the impres-
sion it had made went off also. I had no more sense of God,
or his judgments, much less of the present affliction of my cir-
cumstances being from his hand, than if 1 had been in the
most prosperous condition of life. But now, when I began to
be sick, and a leisure view of the miseries of death came to
place itself before me; when my spirits began to sink under
the burden of a strong distemper, and nature was exhausted
with the violence of the fever ; conscience, that had slept so
long, began to awake; and I reproached myself with my past
‘ife, in which I had so evidently, by uncommon wickedness,
provoked the justice of God to lay me under-uncommon strokes,
and to deal with me in so vindictive amanner. These reflec-
tions oppressed me for the second or third day of my distem-
per ; and in the violence, as well of the fever as of the dreadful
reproaches of my conscience, extorted from me some words
like praying to God; though I cannot say it was a prayer at-
tended either with desires or with hopes; it was rather the
voice of mere fright and distress, My thoughts were con-
fused; the convictions great upon my mind; and the horror
of dying in such a miserable condition raised vapors in my
head with the mere apprehension ; and in these hurries of my
soul, I knew not what my tongue might express; but it was
rather exclamation, such as, ‘‘ Lord, what a miserable creature
am I! If I should be sick, 1 shall certainly die for want of
help; and what will become of me?” Then the tears burst
out of my eyes, and | could Say no more for a good while. In
this interval, the good advice of my father came to my mind,
and presently his prediction, which I mentioned at the begin-
ning of this story, viz. that if 1 did take this foolish step, God
would not bless me; and J should have leisure hereafter to
reflect upon having neglected his counsel, when there might
be none to assist in my recovery. “Now,” said I, aloud,
“‘my dear father’s words are come to pass; God’s justice has
overtaken me, and | have none to help or hear me. 1 rejected"0 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

the voice of Providence, which had mercifully put me in a sta-
tion of life wherein I might have been happy and easy ; but L
would neither see it myself, nor learn from my parents to know
the blessing of it. I left them to mourn over my folly ; and
now I am left to mourn under the consequences of it: L refused
their help and assistance, who would have pushed me in the
world, and would have made every thing easy to me ; and now
{ have difficulties to struggle with, too great for even nature
itself to support; and no assistance, no comfort, no advice.”
Then I cried out, ‘‘ Lord, be my help, for I am in great dis-
tress.” This was the first prayer, if 1 may call it so, that }
had made for many years. But I return to my journal

June 28. Havirig been somewhat refreshed with the sleep J
had had, and the fit being entirely off, I got up; and though
the fright and terror of my dream was very great, yet I con-
sidered that the fit of the ague would return again the next
day, and now was my time to get something to refresh and
support myself when I should be ill. The first thing I did was
to fill a large square case-bottle with water, and set it upon
my table, in reach of my bed; and to take off the chill or
aguish disposition of the water, I put about a quarter of a pint
ae rum into it; and mixed them together. Then [ got me a
piece of the goat’s flesh, and broiled it on the coals, but could
eat very little. I walked about; but was very weak, and withal
very sad and heavy-hearted under a sense of my miserable
condition, dreading the return of my distemper the next day.
At night, I made my supper of three of the turtle’s eggs;
which I roasted in the ashes, and ate, as we call it, in the shell ;
and this was the first bit of meat I had ever asked God’s bless-
ing to, as I could remember, in my whole life. After I had
eaten, I tried to walk; but found myself so weak, that I could
hardly carry the gun (for I never went out without that); so 1
went but a little way, and sat down upon the ground, looking
out upon the sea, which was just before me, and very calm
and smooth. As Isat here, some such thoughts as these oc-
curred tome: ‘‘ What is this earth and sea, of which I have
seen so much? Whence is it produced? And what am I,
and all the other creatures, wild and tame, human and brutal?
Whence are we? Surely, we are all made by some secret
Power, who formed the earth and sea, the air and sky. And
who is that?”’? Then it followed most naturally, ‘‘ It is God
that has made all.—Well, but then,” it came on strangely, ‘‘if
God has made all these things, he guides and governs them all,
and all things that concern them; for the Power that could
make all things, must certainly have power to guide and di-
rect them: if so, nothing can happen in the great circuit of
his works, either without his knowledge or appointment.
‘“* And if nothing happens without his knowledge, he knows

aethat | am he
nothing happens without his a
all this to befall me.” Nothing occurred ‘to my thought, to
contradict any of these conclusi

~usions; and therefore it rested
upon me with the greatest force, that it must needs be that

God had appointed all this to befall me; that I was brought to
this miserable circumstance by his direction, he having the
sole power, not of me only, but of every thing that happens in
the world. Immediately it followed, “ Why has God done this
tome? What have I done to be thus used?” My conscience
presently checked me in that inquiry, as if I had blasphemed ;
and methought it spoke to me hke a voice,—“ Wretch | dost
thou ask what thou hast done? Look back upon a dreadful
misspent life, and ask thyself what. thou hast not done. Ask, ;
why is it that thou wert not long ago destroyed ? Why wert
thou not drowned in Yarmouth Roads; killed in the fight
when the ship was taken by the Sallee man-of-war ; devoured
by the wild beasts on the coast of Africa; or drowned here,
when all the crew perished but thyself? Dost thou ask what
thou hast done?” | was struck dumb with these reflections,
as one astonished, and had not a word to say; no, not to an- 4
Swer to myself; and rising up pensive and sad, walked back
to my retreat, and went over my wall, as if I had been going .
to bed; but my thoughts were sadly disturbed, and | had no
inclination to sleep ; so I sat down in the chair, and lighted my

3

lamp, for it began to be dark. _ Now, as the apprehension of
the return of my distemper terrified me very much, it occurred

to my thought, that the Brazilians take no physic but their
tobacco for almost all distempers; and I had a piece of a rol]
of tobacco in one of the chests, which was quite cured; and
some also that was green, and not quite cured.
went, directed by Heaven, no doubt ; for in this chest I
found a cure both for soul and body. J opened the chest, and |
found what I looked for, viz. the tobacco; and as the few |
books I had saved lay there too, I took out one of the Bibles
which I mentioned before, and which to this ti
found leisure, or so muck as inclination, to look j
I took it out, and brought both that and the t
to the table. What use to make of the tobacco I knew not, ag
to my distemper, nor whether it was good for it or not; but ] |
tried several experiments with it, as fl was resolved it should
hit one way or other. I first took a piec
it in my mouth; which, indeed, at firs |
brain ; the tobacco being green and strong, and such as I had
not been much used to. Then I took some and steeped it an
hour or two in some Tum, and resolved to take a dose of it
when I lay down: and lastly, I burnt some u Don a pan of
coals, and held my nose close over the smoke of it as long as |

e of a leaf, and chewed
t, almost stupefied myAf ROBINSON CRUSOE.

could bear it; as well for the heat, as almost for suffocation.
In the interval of this operation, I took up the Bible, and be-
gan to read; but my head was too much disturbed with the
tobacco to bear reading, at least at that time; only, having
opened the book casually, the first words that occurred to me
were these: “‘Call on me in the day of trouble, and I will de-
liver thee, and thou shalt glorify me.” These words were very
apt to my case, and made some impression upon my thoughts
at the time of reading them, though not so much as they did
afterwards; for, as for being delivered, the word had no sound,
as I may say, to me; the thing was so remote, so impossible
in my apprehension of things, that, as the children of Israel
said when they were promised flesh to eat, “‘ Can God spread a
table in the wilderness?”’ so I began to say, “‘ Can even God
himself deliver me from this place?”’ And as it was not for
many years that any hopes appeared, this prevailed very
often upon my thoughts: but, however, the words made a
great impression upon me, and I mused upon them very often.

t now grew late; and the tobacco had, as I said, dozed my
head ‘so much, that I inclined to sleep: so I left my lamp
burning in the cave, lest I should want any thing in the night,
and went to bed. But before I lay down, I did what I never
had done in all my life; I kneeled down, and prayed to God
to fulfil the promise to me, that if I called upon him in the day
of troubie, he would deliver me. After my broken and imperfect
prayer was over, I drank the rum, in which I had steeped the
tcbacco; which was so strong and rank of the tobacco, that,
indeed, £ could scarce get it down: immediately upon this I
went to bed. I found presently the rum flew up into my head
violently ; but I*fell into a sound sleep, and waked no more,
till, by the sun, it must necessarily be near three o’clock in the
afternoon the next day: nay, to this hour I am partly of opin-
ion, that I slept all the next day and night, and till almost
three the day after; for otherwise, I know not how I should
lose a day out of my reckoning in the days of the week, as it
appeared, some years after, I had done; for if I had lost it by
crossing and recrossing the Line, I should have lost more than
one day; but certainly I lost a day in my account, and never
knew which way. Be that, however, one way or the other,
when I awaked, I found myself exceedingly refreshed, and my
spirits lively and cheerful: when I got up, I was stronger than
I was the day before, and my stomach better, for 1 was hungry ;
and, in short, I had no fit the next day, but continued much
altered for the better. This was the 29th.

‘The 30th was my well day, of course; and I went abroad
with my gun, but did not care to travel too far. I killed a
sea-fowl or two, something like a brand goose, and brought
them home; but was not very forward to eat them; so I ateROBINSON CRUSOR,

some more of the turtle’s eggs, which were very good. This
evening I renewed the medicine, which I had supposed did
me good the day before, viz. the tobacco steeped in rum; only
I did not take so much as before, nor did i?

chew any of the
leaf, or hold my head over the smoke: however I was not so
well the next day, which was the Ist of July, as I hoped [

should have been; for I had a little of the cold it, but it was

not much,

July 2. I renewed the medicine all the three ways; and
dosed myself with it as at first, and doubled the quantity
which I drank.

July 3.- I missed the fit for good and all, though I did not
recover my full strength for some weeks after. While I was
thus gathering strength, my thoughts ran exceedingly upon
this scripture, “TI will deliver thee; ” and the impossibility of
my deliverance lay much upon my mind, in bar of ny ever
expecting it: but as I was discouraging myself with such
thoughts, it occurred to my mind that I pored so much upon
my deliverance from the main affliction, that I disregarded the
deliverance I had received; and I was, as it were, made to ask
myself such questions as these, viz. ‘Have I not been de-
livered, and wonderfully too, from sickness; from the most
distressed condition that could be, and that was so frichtful to
me? and what notice have I taken of it? Have I done my
part? God has delivered me, but I have not glorified him;

that is to say, I have not owned and been thankful for that as
a deliverance ; and how can I expect a greater deliverance ?”?
This touched my heart very much; oul immediately I knelt
down, and gave God thanks aloud for my recovery from my
sickness.

July 4. In the morning [took the Bible; and beginning at
the New Testament, I began seriously to read it; and imposed
upon myself to read awhile every morning and every night ;
not. binding myself to the number of chapters, but as long ag
my thoughts should engage me. It was not long after T set
seriously to this work, that I found my heart more deeply
and sincerely affected with the wickedness of my past life.
The impression of my dream revived ; and the words, ‘* All
these things have not brought thee to repentance,” ran seri
ously in my thoughts. I was earnestly begging of God to give
me repentance, when it) happened providentially, the very
same day, that reading the Scripture, I came to these word

5;
‘““ He is exalted a prince, and a Savior; to give repentance,
and to give remission.” I-threw down the book ; and, with my
heart as well as my hands lifted up to heaven, in a kind of
ecstasy of joy, I cried out aloud, ‘ Jesus, thou Son of David
Jesus, thou exalted Prince and Savior! give me repentance!”
This was the first time in all my life I could say, i) the true

4.44 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

sense of the words, that I prayed; for now 1 prayed with 4
sense of my condition, and w@h a true See view of hope,
founded on the encouragement of the word of God ; and from
this time, | may say, 1 began to have hope that God would

hear me.
7 y ee <
Now I began to construe the words mentioned above, ‘‘ Call
different sense from what

on me, and [ will deliver thee,’ in a
I had ever done before; for then I had no notion of any thing
being called deliverance, but my being delivered from the cap-
tivity I was in; for though I was indeed at large In the place,
yet the island was certainly a prison to me, and that in the
worst sense in the world. But now 1 learned to take it In,
another sense; now | looked back upon my past life with such
horror, and my sins appeared so dreadful, that my soul sought
nothing of God but deliverance from the load of guilt that bore
down all my comfort. A's for my solitary life, 1f was nothing ;
I did not so much as pray to be delivered from it, or think of
it; it was all of no consideration, in comparison with this.
And I add this part here, to hint to whoever shall read it,
that whenever they come to a true sense of things, they will
fnd deliverance from sin a much greater blessing than deliv-
erance from affliction. But leaving this part, I return to my
Journal.

My condition began now to be, though not less miserable as
to my way of living, yet much easier to my mind: and my
thoughts being directed, by constantly reading the Scripture
and praying to God, to things of a higher nature, | had a great
deal of comfort within, which, till now, I knew nothing of;
also, as my health and strength returned, | bestirred me ta
furnish myself with every thing that | wanted, and make my
way of living as regular as I could.

From the 4th of July to the 14th, I was chiefly employed in
walking about with my gun in my hand, a little and a little at
a time, as a man that was eathering up his strength after a fit
of sickness; for it is hardly to be imagined how low I was,
and to what weakness | was reduced. The application which
1 made use of was perfectly new, and perhaps what had never
cured an ague before; neither can I recommend it to any one
to practise, by this experiment ; and though it did carry off
the fit, yet it rather contributed to weakening me; for I had
frequent convulsions in my nerves and limbs for some time: I
learned from it, also, this, in particular; that being abroad in
the rainy season, was the most pernicious thing to my health
that could be, especially in those rains which came attended
with storms and hurricanes of wind; for as the rain which
came in the dry season was almost always accompanied with
such storms, so | found that this rain was much more danger-
ous than the rain which fell in September and October.ROBINSON /RUSOR,

I had now been in this unhappy island above ten months;
all possibility of deliverance from this condition seemed to be
entirely taken from me; and I firmly believed

that no human

shape had ever set foot upon that place. Having secured my

habitation, as I thought, filly to my mind, I had a great desire

to make a more perfect discovery of the island, and to see

What other productions J might find, which { yet knew
nothing of.

_ It was on the 15th of July that I began to take a more par-
ticular survey of the island itself. I went up the creek first,
where, as I hinted, I brought my rafts on shore. [| found, after
I came about two miles up, that the tide did not flow any
higher; and that it was no more than a little brook of running
water, very fresh and good : but this being the dry season,
there was hardly any water in some parts of it; at least, not
any stream. On the banks of this brook I found many pleas-
ant savannahs or meadows, plain, smooth, and covered with
grass; and on the rising parts of them, next to the higher
grounds (oni the water, asit might be Supposed, never over-
flowed), I found a great deal of tobacco, green, and growing to
a very great and strong stalk; and there were divers other
plants, which I had no <nowledge of.

se Ol, or understanding about,
and that might, perhaps, have virtues of their own, which I
could not aol out. I searched for the Cassava root, which the
{ndians, in all that Climate, make their bread of; but I
could find none. T saw large plants of aloes, but did not un-
derstand them. I saw several sugar-canes, but wild ; and, for
want of cultivation, imperfect. I contented myself with these
discoveries for this time; and came back, musing with myself
what course I might take to know the virtue and goodness of
any of the fruits or plants which I should discover; but could
bring it to no ete Histo for, in short, I -had made so little
observation while I was in the Brazils, that I knew little of the
plants in the field: at least, very little that might serve me to
any purpose now in my distress.
The next day, the I6th, I went up the same way again; and
after going something farther than | had gone the day before,
I found the brook and the Savannahs begin to cease, and the
country become *more woody than before. In this part I
found different fruits; and particularly I found melons upon
the ground, in great abundance, and grapes upon the trees:
the vines, indeed, had spread over the trees, and the clusters
of grapes were now Just in their prime, very ripe and rich.
This was a surprising discovery, and I was exceedingly glad
of them, but I was warned by my experience to eat sparingly
of them; remembering that when I was ashore in Barbary,
the eating of grapes killed several of our Englishmen, who
were slaves there, by throwing them into fluxes and fevers.

ee

Td76 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

[ found, however, an excellent use for these prapees and that
was, to cure or dry them in the sun, and keep them as dried
grapes or raisins are kept; which I thought would be (as 1n-
deed they were) as wholesome and as agreeable to eat, when
no grapes were to be had.

IT spent all that evening there, and went not back to my
habitation; which, by the way, was the first night, as I might
say, I had lain from home. At night, I took my first contri-
vance, and got up into a tree, where I slept well ; and the next
morning proceeded on my discovery, travelling near four miles,
as | might judge by the length of the valley ; ‘keeping still due
north, with a ridge of hills on the south and north sides of me
At the end of this.march | came to an opening, where the
country seemed to descend to the west; and a little spring of
fresh water, which issued out of the side of the hill by me, ran
the other way, that is, due east ; and the country appeared so
fresh, so green, so flourishing, every thing being in a constant
verdure, or flourish of spring, that it looked like a planted
garden. I descended a little on the side of that delicious vale,
surveying it with a secret kind of pleasure (though mixed with
other afllicting thoughts), to think that this was all my own;
that | was king and lord of all this country indefeasibly, and
had a right of possession; and, if | could convey it, 1 might
have it in inheritance as completely as any lord of a manor in
Eneoland. I saw here abundance of cocoa-trees, and orange,

ALA yoy

lemon, and citron-trees, but all wild, and very few bearing any
fruit; at least, not then. However, the green limes that I
gathered were not only pleasant to eat, but very wholesome ;
and 1 mixed their juice afterwards with water, which made it
very wholesome, and very cool and refreshing. I found now I
had business enough to gather and carry home ; and I resolved
to lay up a store, as well of grapes as limes and lemons, to fur-
nish myself for the wet season, which I knew was approaching.
In order to this, I gathered a great heap of grapes in one place,
a lesser heap in another place, and a great parcel of limes and
melons in another place; and, taking a few of each with me, lL
travelled homeward ; and resolved to come again, and bring a
bag or sack, or what | could make, to’ carry the rest home.
Accordingly, having spent three days in this journey, I came
home (so I must now call my tent and my cave); but before I
got thither, the grapes were spoiled; the richness of the fruits,
and the weight of the juice, having broken and bruised them,
they were good for little or nothing: as to the limes, they were
good, but f could bring only a few.

The next day, being the 19th, I went back, having made me
two smal] bags to bring home my harvest ; but I was surprised,
when, coming to my heap of grapes, which were so rich and
fine when I gathered them, I found them all spread about,ROBINSON CRUSOE. Tey

ome here, some there, and
By this I concluded there

trod to pieces, and dragged about, s
abundance eaten and devoured.
were some wild creatures thereabouts which had done this, but
what they were I knew not. However, as 1 found there was
no laying them up in heaps, and no carrying them away ina
sack; but that one way they would be destroyed, and the

other way they would be crushed with their own weight; I took

another course: I then gathered a large quantity of the grapes,

and hung them upon the out-branches of the trees, that they

might cure and dry in the Sun; and as for the limes and |

I carried as many back as F could well stand under.

When I came home from this journey, I contemplated with
great pleasure the fruitfulness of that valley, and the pleasant-
ness of the situation; the security from storms on that side ;
the water and the wood; and concluded that [ had pitched
upon a place to fix my abode in, which was by far the worst
part of the country. Upon the whole, I began to consider of
removing my habitation, and to look out for a place equally
safe as where I was now situate; if possible, in that pleasant,
fruitful part of the island.

This thought ran long in my head; and I was exceeding
fond of it for some time, the pleasantness of the place tempting
me; but when I came to a nearer view of it, I considered that

was now by the sea-side, where it was at least possible that

something might happen to my advantage, and, by the same
ill fate that brought me hither, might bring some other un-
happy wretches to the same place; and though it was scarce
probable that any such thing should ever happen, yet to en-
close myself among the hills and woods in the centre of the
island, was to anticipate my bondage, and to render such an
affair not only improbable, but impossible ; and that, therefore,
J ought not by any means to remove. However, I was so en-
amored of this place, that I spent much of my time there for
the whole remaining part of the month of July ; and though,
upon second thoughts, I resolved, as above stated, not to re-
move, yet I built me a little kind of a bower, and surrounded
it at a distance with a strong fence, being a double hedge, as
high as 1 could reach, well staked, and filled between with
brushwood. Here I lay very secure, sometimes two or three
nights together ; always going over it with a ladder, as before ;
so that I fancied now I had my country and my sea-coast
house. This work took me up till the beginning of August.

I had but newly-finished my fence, and began to enjoy my
labor, when the#ains came on, and made me stick close to my
first habitation; for though I had made a tent, like the other,
with a piece of sail, and spread it very well, yet I had not the
shelter of a hill to keep me from storms, nor a cave behind me
to retreat into when the rains were extraordinary.

emonsROBINSON CRUSOE.

    
     

 

C >
< a

Hl I

About the beginning of August, as I said, I had finished my
bower, and began to enjoy myself, The 3d of August, I found
the erapes | had hung up were perfectly dried, and indeed
were excellent good raisins of the sun: so I began to take
them down from the trees; and it was very happy that I did
so, as the rains which followed would have spoiled them, and

should have lost the best part of my winter food; for { had
above two hundred large bunches of them. No sooner had I
taken them all down, and carried most of them home to my
cave, but it began to rain; and from hence, which was the
Mth of August, it rained, more or less, every ‘di vy till the mid-
dle of October ; and sometimes so violently, that I could not
stir out of my cave for several days.

In this season, I was much surprised with the increase of
my family. I had been concerned for the loss of one of my
cats, who ran away from me, or, as I thought, had been dead ;
and I heard no more of her, till, ‘to my astonishment, she came
home with three kittens. This was the more strange to me,
because, about the end of August, though I pad killed a wild
eat, as I called it, with my gun, yet I thought it was quite a
different kind from our European cats: yet the young cats
were the same kind of house breed as the old one; and both
of my cats being females, I thought it very strange. But
from these three, I afterwards came to be so pestered with cats,ROBINSON CRUSOE. 79

ermin or wild beasts, and
h as possible.

that 1 was forced to kill them like v
to drive them from my house as muc

From the 14th of August to the 26th, incessant rain; so
that I could not stir, and was now very careful not to be much
wet. In this confinement, I began to be straitened for food ;
but venturing out twice, I one day killed a goat, and the last
day, which was the 26th, found a very large tortoise, which
was a treat tome. My food was now r gulated thus: I atea
bunch of raisins for my breakfast; a piece of the goat’s flesh,
or of the turtle, broiled, for my dinner (for, to my great misfor-
tune, I had no vessel to boil or stew any thing), and two or
three of the turtle’s eggs for my supper.

During this confinement in my cover by the rain, I worked
daily two or three hours at enlarging my cave, and by degrees
worked it on towards one side, till I came to the outside of the
hill, and made a door, or way out, which came beyond my
fence or wall; and soi came in and out this way. But I was
not perfectly easy at lying so open; for as 1 had managed
myself before, I was in a perfect inclosure ; whereas, now, I
thought I lay exposed ; aie vet I could not perceive that there
was any living thing to fear, the biggest creature that I had
yet seen upon the island being a goat.

September 30. I was now come to the unhappy anniversary
of my landing. I cast up the notches on my post, and found
I had been on shore three hundred and sixty-five days. Ikept
this day as a solemn fast, setting it apart for religious exercise,
prostrating myself on the ground with the most serious humil-
lation, confessing my sins to God, acknowledging his righteous
judgments upon me, and praying to him to have mercy on me,
through Jesus Christ; and having not tasted the least refresh-
ment for twelve hours, even till the going down of the sun, I
then ate a biscuit and a bunch of grapes, and went to bed, fin-
ishing the day as I began it. I had all this time observed no
Sabbath-day ; for, as at first I had no sense of religion upon
my mind, I had, after some time, omitted to distinguish the
weeks, by making a longer notch than ordinary, for the Sab.
bath-day, and so did not really know what any of the days
were; but now, having cast up the days as above, I found 1
had been there a year; so I divided it into weeks, and set
apart every seventh day for a Sabbath *though I found, at the
end of my account, I had lost a day or two in my reckoning.
A little after this, my ink beginning to fail me, I contented
myself to use it more sparingly, and to write down only the
most remarkable events of my life, without continuing a daily
memorandum of other things.

The rainy season and the dry season began now to appear
regular to me, and I learned to divide them so as to provide for
them accordingly; but I bought all my experience before I80 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

had it; and what 1 am going to relate was one of the most
discouraging experiments that I had made at all.

I have mentioned that I had saved the few ears of barley
and rice which I had so surprisingly found sprung up, as
thought, of themselves. I believe there were about thirty
stalks of rice, and about twenty of barley ; and now I thought
it a proper time to sow it after the rains, the sun being im its
southern position, going from me. Accordingly, I dug a piece
of ground, as well as I could, with my wooden spade ; and, di-
yiding it into two parts, I sowed my grain; but, as I was
sowing, it casually occurred tomy thoughts that I would not
sow it all at first, because I did not know when was the proper
time for it; sol sowed about two thirds of the seed, leaving
about a handful of each; and it was a great comfort to me at-
terwards that I did so, for not one grain of what I sowed this
time came to any thing; for the dry month following, and the
earth having thus had no rain after the seed was sown, it had
no moisture to assist its growth, and never came up at all till
the wet season had come again, and then it grew as if it had
been but newly sown. Finding my first seed did not grow,
which I easily imagined was from the drought, I sought for a
moister piece of ground, to make another trial in; and I dug
up a piece of ground near my new bower, and sowed the rest
at my seed in February, a little before the vernal equinox.
This, having the rainy month of March and A pril to water it,
sprung up very pleasantly, and yielded a very good crop; but
having only part of the seed left, and not daring to sow all that
Thad, I got but a small quantity at last, my whole crop not
amounting to above half a peck of each kind. But by this ex-
periment 1 was made master of my business, and knew exactly
when was the proper time to sow; and that I might expect
two seed-times and two harvests every year. .

While this corn was growing, I made a little discovery,
which was of use to me afterwards. As soon as the rains were
over, and the weather began to settle, which was about the
month of November, I made avvisit up the country to my
bower; where, though I had not been some months, yet |
found all things just as I left them. The circle or double
hedge that | had madé was not only firm and entire, but the
stakes which 1 had cut out of some trees that grew thereabouts
were all shot out, and grown with long branches, as much as a
willow-tree usually shoots the first year after lopping its head;
but I could not tell what tree to call it that these stakes were
cut from. {f was surprised, and yet very well pleased, to see
the young trees grow; and I pruned them, and led them to

row as much alike as I could; and ¥ is scarce credible how
eautiful a figure they grew into in three years;. so that,

cS

though the hedge made a circle of about twenty-five yards inROBINSON CRUSOE. 31
diameter, yet the trees—for such I might now call them—soon
covered it; and it was a complete shade, sufficient to lodge
under all the dry season. This made me resolve to cut some
more stakes, and make me a hedge like this, in-a semicircle
round my wall (I mean that of my first dwelling), which [ did;

and placing the trees or stakes in a double row, at about eight
_ yards’ distance from my first fence, they grew presently, and
4; were at first a fine cover to my habitation, and afterwardg
= Served for a defence also, as I shall observe in its order.

">

f

| I found now that the seasons of the year might generally be
divided, not into summer and winter, as in Hurope, but inta
,the rainy seasons and the dry seasons, which were generally
‘thus: From the middle of February to the middle of April,
-Tainy ; the sun being then on or near the equinox. From the

#mniddle of April till the middle of August, dry ; the sun being
then north of the line. From the middle of August till the
middle of October, rainy ; the sun being then come back to
the line. From the middle of October till the middle of Feb-
ruary, dry; the sun being then to the south of the line.

The rainy seasons held sometimes longer and sometimes
shorter, as the winds happened to blow; but this was the gen-
eral observation I made. After I had found, by experience,
the ill consequences of being abroad in the rain, I took care
to furnish myself with provisions beforehand, that I might not
be obliged to go out; and I sat within doors as much as pos-
sible during the wet months. In this time I found much em-
ployment, and very suitable also to the time; for I found great
occasion for many things which I had no way to furnish my-
self with, but by hard labor and constant a plication: partic-
ularly, I tried many ways to make miaelt basket ; a all
the twigs I could get for the purpose proved so brittle, that
they would do nothing. It proved of excellent advantage to
me now, that when I was a boy, I used to take great delight
in standing at a basket-maker’s in the town where my
father lived, to see them make their wicker-ware; and
being, as boys usually are, very -officious to help, and a
great observer of the manner how they worked those things,
and sometimes lending a hand, 1 had by these means full
knowledge of the methods of it, so that I wanted nothing but
the materials; when it came into my mind, that the twigs of
that tree from whence I cut my stakes that grew, might
possibly be as tough as the sallows, willows, and osiers,
in England; and I resolved to try. Accordingly, the next
day, [ went to my country-house, as I called it; and, cutting
some of the smaller twigs, I found them to my purpose as
much as I could desire; whereupon I came the next time pre-
pared with a hatchet, to cut down a quantity, which I soon
found, for there was great plenty of them. These I set up to

~RQ ROBINSON CRUSOE.

dry within my circle or hedge; and when they were fit fot
use, I carried them to my cave; and here, during the next
season, [ employed myself in making, as well as I could, sev-
eral baskets, both to carry earth, or to carry oF lay up any
thing, as I had occasion for. Though I did not finish them
very handsomely, yet I made them sufficiently serviceable for
my purpose; and thus, afterwards, I took care never to be
without them; and as my wicker-ware decayed, I made more;
especially strong, wey baskets, to place my corn in, instead
of sacks, when I should come to have any quantity of it. :

Having mastered this difficulty, and employed a world of
time about it, I bestirred myself to see, if possible, how to sup-
ply two other wants. I had no vessel to hold any thing that
was liquid, except two runlets, which were almost full of rum,
and some glass bottles, some of the common size, and others
(which were case-bottles) square, for the holding of waters,
spirits, doc. I had not so much as a pot to boil any thing;
except a great kettle, which I saved out of the ship, and which
was too big for such use as I desired it, viz. to make broth,
and stew a bit of meat by itself. ‘The second thing I would fain
have had was a tobacco-pipe; but it was impossible for me
to make one: however, 1 found a contrivance for that too, at
last. I employed myself in planting my second row of stakes
or piles, and also in this wicker-working, all the summer or
dry season; when another business took me up more time than
it could be imagined | could spare.“

I mentioned before, that I had a great mind to see the whole
island; and that I had travelled up the brook, and so on to
where I had built my bower, and where I had an opening quite
to the sea, on the other side of the island. I now resolved to
travel quite across to the sea-shore, on that side; so, taking my
gun, a hatchet, and my dog, and a larger quantity of powder
and shot than usual, with two biscuit-cakes, and a great bunch
of raisins in my pouch, for my store, I began my journey
When I had passed the vale where my bower stood, as above,
I came within view of the sea, to the west; and it being avery
clear day, I fairly descried land, whether an island or conti
nent I could not tell; but it lay very high, extending from W.
to W.S.W., at a very great distance; by my guess, it could
not be less than fifteen or twenty leagues off.

Icould not tell what part of the world this might be; other:
wise than that | knew it must be part of America, and, as |
concluded, by all my observations, must be near the Spanish
dominions, and perhaps was all inhabited by savages, where,
if | should have landed, I had been in a-worse condition than f
vas now. I therefore acquiesced in the dispositions of Provi-
dence, which I began now to own and to believe ordered every
thing for the best; I say, I quieted my mind with this, and
left off afflicting myself with fruitless wishes of being there.——$—$____.. s

  

ROBINSON CRUSOR. 83

__ Besides, after some pause upon this affair, I considered that
if this land was the Spanish coast, I should certainly, one time
or other, see some vessel pass or eras one way or other; but
if not, then it was the savage Coast between the Spanish coun-
try and the Brazils, whose inhabitants are indeed the worst of
savages; for they are cannibals, or men-eaters, and fail not to
murder and devour all human beings that fall into their hands.

With these considerations, walking very leisurely forward, I
found this side of the island, where I now was, much pleasant-
er than mine; the open or savannah fields sweetly adorned
with flowers and grass, and full of very fine woods. I saw
abundance of parrots, and fain would have caught one, if
possible, to have kept it to be tame, and taught it to speak to
me. I did, after taking some pains, catch a young parrot; for
i knocked it down with a stick, and, having recovered it, 1
brought it home; but it was some years before I could make
him speak: however, at last, I taught him to call me by my
name very familiarly. But the accident that followed, though
it be a trifle, will be very diverting in its place.

I was exceedingly amused with this journey. J found, inthe
low grounds, hares, as I thought them to be, and foxes; but
they differed greatly from all the other kinds I had met with;
nor could I satisfy myself to eat them, though I killed several
But I had no need to be venturous; for had no want of
food, and of that which was very good too; especially these
three sorts, viz. goats, pigeons, and turtle, or tortoise. With
these, added to my grapes, Leaden-hall-Market could not have
furnished a table better than I, in roportion to the company ;
and though my case was deplorable enough, yet I had great
cause for thankfulness; as I was not driven to any extremities
for food, but had rather plenty, even to dainties. :

I never travelled on this journey above two miles outright in
a day, or thereabouts; but I took so many turns and returns,
to see what discoveries J could make, that | came weary
enough to the place where I resolved to sit down for the night ;
and then J either reposed myself in a tree, or surrounded my+
self with a row of stakes, set upright in the ground, either from
one tree to another, or so as no wild creature could come at
me without waking me. :

As soon as I came to the sea-shore, I was surprised to see
that T had taken up my lot on the worst side of the island; for
here indeed the shore was covered with innumerable turtles ;
whereas, on the other side, I had found but three in a year and
a half. Here was also an infinite number of fowls of many
kinds; some of which I had seen, and some of which I had not
seen before, and many of them very good meat; but such as |
knew not the names of, except those called penguins.84. ROBINSON CRU

I could have shot as many as I pleased, but was very spat-
ine of my powder and shot ; and therefore had more mind to
kill a she-goat, if I could, which E could better teed on. | But
though there were many goats here, more than on my side the
island, yet it was with much more difficulty that t could come
near them; the country being flat and even, and they saw me
much sconer than when I was upon a fill.

I confess this side of the country was muck pleasanter than
mine; yet I had not the least inclination to remove ; for as I
was fixed in my habitation, it became natural. to me, and }
seemed all the while I was here to be as it were upon a journey,
and from home. However, I travelled along the sea-shore
towards the east, I suppose, about swelve miles; and then, set-
ting up a great pole upon the shore for a mark, { concluded }
would go home again ; and that the next journey I took should
be on the other side of the island, east from my dwelling, and
go round till I came to my post again ; of which in its place.

I took another way to come back than that { went, thinking
I could easily keep so much of the island in my view, that
could not miss my first dwelling by viewing the country ; but
I found myself mistaken ; for, being come about two or three
miles, I found myself descended into a very large valley, but
so surrounded with hills, and those hills covered with wood,
that I could not see which was my way, by any direction but that
of the sun, nor even then, unless [ knew very well the position
of the sun at that time of the day. And it happened to my
farther misfortune, that the weather proved hazy for three or
four days while I was in this valley ; and not being able to see
the sun, I wandered about very uncomfortable, and at last was
obliged to find out the sea-side, look for my post, and come
back the same way I went; and then by easy journeys I
turned homeward, the weather being exceeding hot, and my
gun, ammunition, hatchet, and other things, very heavy.

In this journey, my dog surprised a young kid, and seized
upon it; and running to take hold of it, I caught it, and saved
it alive from the dog. I hada great mind to bring it home if I
could; for I had often been musing whether it micht not be
possible. to get a kid or two, and so raise a breed of tame goats,
which might supply me when my powder and shot should be
all spent. I made a collar for this little creature, and with a
string which I had made of some rope-yarn, which I always
carried about me, I led him along, though with some difficulty,
till I came to my bower, and there [ inclosed him and left
him; for I was very impatient to be at home, from whence I
had been absent above a month.

_ I cannot express what a satisfaction it was to me to come
into my old hutch, and lie down in my hammock-bed. ‘This
little wandering journey, without a settled place of abode, hadROBINSON CRUSOE. 85
Cen so unpleasant to me, that my own house, as I called it te
myself, was a perfect settlement to me, compared to that; and
it rendered every thing about me so comfortable, that I re-
solved J would never go a great way from it again, while it
should be my lot to stay on the island.

I reposed myself here a week, to rest and regale myself after
my long journey; during which, most of the time was taken
up In the weighty affair of making a cage for my Pol, who
began now to be more domestic, and to mighty well ac-
quainted with me. Then I began to think of the poor kid
which I had penned within my little circle, and resolved ta
fetch it home, or give it some food: accordingly I went, and
found: it where T left it (for indeed it could not get out),
but was almost starved for want of food. I went and cui
boughs of trees, and branches of such shrubs as I could find,
and threw it over, and having fed it, I tied it as I did before,
to lead it away; but it was so tame with being hungry, that }
had no need to have tied it, for it followed me like a dog ; and
as I continually fed it, the creature became so loving, so gentle,
and so fond, that it was from that time one of my domestics
also, and would never leave me afterwards.

The rainy season of the autumnal equinox was now come,
and I kept the 30th of September, in the same solemn manner
as before, being the anniversary of my landing on the island;
haying now been there two years, and no more prospect of
being delivered than the first day [ came there. I spent the
whole day in hunible and thankful acknowledgments for the
many wonderful mercies which my solitary condition was at-
tended with, and without which it might have been infinitely
more miserable. I gave humble and hearty thanks to God for
having been pleased to discover to me, that it was possible I
might be more happy even in this sohtary condition, than I
should have been in the enjoyment of society, and in all the
pleasures of the world; that he could fully make up to me the

deficiencies of my solitary state, and the want of human SO~
ciety. by his presence, and the communications of his grace
to my soul; supporting, comforting, and encouraging me to
depend upon his providence here, and to hope for his eternal
presence hereafter.

it was now that I began sensibly to feel how much more
happy the life I now led was, with all its miserable circum-
stances, than the wicked, cursed, abominable life I led all the
past part of my days; and now I changed both my sorrows
and my joys: my very desires altered; my affections changed

their gusts; and my delights were perfectly new from what
they were at my first coming, or indeed for the two years past.
Before, as I walked about, either on my hunting, or for

6; OF .
viewing the country, the anguish of my soul at my condition8S ROBINSON CRUSOE.

would break out upon me on a sudden, and my very heart
would die within me, to think of the woods, the mountains, the
deserts | was in; and how [ was a prisoner, locked up with
the eternal bars and bolts of the ocean, in an uninhabited wil-
derness, without redemption. In the midst of the greatest
compesures of my mind, this would break out upon me like a
storm, and make me wring my hands, and weep like a child.
sometimes it would take me in the middle of my work, and I
would immediately sit down and sigh, and look upon the
ground for an hour or two together: this was still worse to
me; but if I could burst into tears, or give vent to my feelings
by words, it would go off; and my grief, being exhausted,
would abate.

But now I began to exercise myself with new thoughts; I
daily read the word of God, and applied all the comforts of it
to my present state. One morning, being very sad, I opened
the Bible upon these words—‘I will never leave thee, nor for-
sake thee :”? immediately it occurred that these words were to
me; why else should they be directed in such a manner, just
at the moment when I was mourning over my condition, as
one forsaken of God and man? “‘ Well, then,” said I, “if God
does not forsake me, of what ill consequence can it be, or what
matters it, though the world should forsake me; seeing, on the
other hand, if [ had all the world, and should lose the favor and
blessing of God, there would be no comparison in the loss 1”

From this moment I began to conclude in my mind, that it
was possible for me to be more happy in this forsaken, solitary
condition, than it was probable I should ever have been in any
other particular state in the world; and with this thought lL
was going to one thanks to God for bringing me to this place.
I know not what it was, but something shocked my mind at
that thought, and I durst not speak the words. “ How canst
thou be such a hypocrite,” said I, even audibly, “‘ to pretend
to be thankful for a condition, which, however thou mayest
endeavor to be contented with, thou wouldest rather pray
heartily to be delivered from?””. Here { stopped; but though
{ could not say I thanked God for being here, yet I sincerely
gave thanks to God for opening my eyes, by whatever aiflict-
ing providences, to see the former condition of my life, and to
mourn for my wickedness, and repent. Inever opened the
Bible, or shut it, but my very soul within me blessed God for
directing my friend in England, without any order of mine, to
pack it up among my goods; and for assisting me afterwards
to save it out of the wreck of the ship.

Thus, and in this disposition of mind, | began my third
year; and though I have not given the reader the trouble ofROBINSON CRUSOR. 87
80 particular an account of my works this year as the first,
yet In general it may be observed, that I was very seldom idle ;
ut having regularly divided my time, according to the several
daily employments that were before me; such as, first, My
duty to God, and the reading the Scriptures, which 1 con-
stantly set a art some time for, thrice every day; secondly,
Going abroad with my gun for food, which generally took me
up three hours every morning, when it did not rain ; thirdly

rdering, curing, preserving, and cooking what I had killed
or catched for a supply ; these took up great part of the
day : also it is to be considered, that in the middle of the day.
when the sun was in the zenith, the violence of the heat wa
too great to stir out; so that about four hours in the evening’
was all the time I could be supposed to work in; with this ex-
ception, that sometimes I changed my hours of hunting and
working, and went to work in the morning, and abroad with
my gun in the afternoon.

o this short time allowed for labor, I desire may be added
the exceeding laboriousness of my work; the many hours
which, for want of tools, want of help, and want of skill, every
thing I did took up out of my time; for example, I was full
two-and-forty days making me a board for a long shelf, which
I wanted in my cave; whereas, two sawyers, with their tools
and a saw-pit, would have cut six of them out of the same tree
in half a day.

My case was this: it was a large tree which was to be cut
down, because my board was to is abroad one. This tree I
was three days cutting down, and two more in cutting off the
boughs, and reducing it to a log, or piece of timber. ith in-
expressible hacking and hewing, I reduced both the sides of it
into chips, till it was light enough to move; then I turned it,
and rnin one side of it smooth and flat as a board, from end
to end; then, turning that side downward, cut the other side,
till I brought the plank to be about three inches thick, and
smooth on both sds Any one may judge the labor of my
hands in such a piece of work; but labor and patience carried
me through that, and many other things: I only observe this
in particular, to show the reason why so much of my time
went away with so little work, viz. that what might be a little
to be done with help and tools, was a vast labor, and required
a prodigious time to do alone, and by hand. Notwithstanding
this, with patience and labor 1 went through many things;
and, indeed, every thing. that my circumstances made neces-
sary for me to do, as will appear by what follows.

was now, in the months of November and December, ex-
pecting my crop of barley and rice. The ground [had ma-
aured or dug up for them was not great; for, as I observed,
ty seed of each was not above the quantity of half a peck,rete) ROBINSON CRUSOE.

having lost one whole crop by sowin in the dry season: but
now my crop promised very well; when, on a sudden, I found
I was in danger of losing it all again by enemies of several
sorts, which it was scarce possible to keep from it; as, first,
the goats and wild creatures which I called hares, who, tasting
the sweetness of the blade, lay in it night and day, as soon as
it came up, aud ate it so close, that it could get no time to
shoot up into stalk.

I saw no remedy for this, but by making an enclosure about
it with a hedge, which I did with a great deal of toil; and the
more, because it required speed. However, as my arable land
was but small, suited to my crop, I got it tolerably well fenced
in about three weeks’ time; and shooting some of the creatures
in the day time, I set my dog to guard it in the night, tying him
up to a stake at the gate, where he would stand and bark all
night long; so in a little time the enemies forsook the place,
and the corn grew very strong and well, and began to ripen
apace.

But as the beasts ruined me before, while my corn was in
the blade, so the birds were as likely to ruin me now, when it
was in the ear; for going along by the place to see how it
throve, I saw my little crop surrounded with fowls, I know
not of how many sorts, who stood, as it were, watching till I
should be gone. I immediately let fly among them (for I al-
ways had my gun with me); I had no sooner shot, but there
rose up a little cloud of fowls, which I had not seen at all,
from among the corn itself.

This touched me sensibly, for I foresaw that in a few days
they would devour all my hopes; that I should be starved, and
never be able to raise a crop at all; and what to do I could not
tell: however, [ resolved not to lose my corn, if possible,
though I should watch it night and day. In the first place, I
went among it, to see what damage was already done, and
found they had spoiled a good deal of it; but that, as it was
yet too green for them, the loss was not so great, but that the
remainder was likely to be a good crop, if it could be saved.

I staid by it to load my gun, and then coming away, I could
easily see the thieves sitting upon all the trees about me, as if
they only waited till 1 was gone away; and the event proved
it to be so; for as I walked off, as if gone, I was no sooner out of
their sight, than they dropped down, éne by one, into the corn
again. I was so provoked, that I could not have patience to stay
till more came on, knowing that every grain they ate now was,
as it might be said, a peck-loaf to me in the consequence ; so,
coming up to the hedge, I fired again, and killed three of them.
This was what I wished for; so I took them up, and served
them as we serve notorious thieves in England, viz. hanged
them in chains, for a terror to others. It is impossible to im-ROBINSON CRUSOR. 89
ggine that this should have such an effect as it had; for the
owls not only never’ came to the corn, but, in short, they for-
sook all that part of the island, and I could never see 4 bird
near the place as long as my scarecrows hung there. This ]
was very glad of, you may be sure; and about the latter end
of December, which was our second harvest of the year, I
reaped my corn.
was sadly put to it for a scythe or sickle to cut it down;
and all I could do was to make one as well as 1 could, out of
one of the broad-swords, or cutlasses, which I saved among the
arms out of the ship. However, as my first crop was but small,
had no great difficulty to cut it down: in short, I reaped it
my way, for I cut nothing off but the ears, and carried it away
in a great basket which I had made, and so rubbed it out with
my hands; and at the end of all my harvesting, I found that
out of my half peck of seed I had near two bushels of rice, and
above two bushels and a half of barley ; that is to say, by my
guess, for I had no measure
However, this was great encouragement to me; and I fore-
saw that, i time, it would please God to supply me with
bread; and yet here I was perplexed again; for I neither
knew how to grind, or make meal of my corn, or indeed how
to clean it and part it; nor, if made into meal, how to make
bread of it: and if how to make it, yet I knew not how to bake
it: these things being added to my desire of having a good
quantity for store, and to secure a constant supply, I resolved
not to taste any of this crop, but to preserve it all for seed
against the next season ; and, in the mean time, to employ ai!
my study and hours of working to accomplish this great work
of providing myself with corn and bread.
it might be truly said, that now I worked for my bread. It
is a little wonderful, and what I believe few people have thought
nuch upon, viz. the strange multitude of little things necessary
in the providing, producing, curing, dressing, making, and
finishing this one article of bread.
i, that was reduced to a mere state of nature, found this to
my daily discouragement, and was made more sensible of it

“a

every hour, even after I had got the first handful of seed-
corn, which, as I have said, came up unexpectedly, and indeed
to a surprise.

First, [ had no plough to turn up the earth ; ho spade or
shovel to dig it: well, this I conquered by making a wooden
spade, as I observed before; but this did my work but in a
wooden manner ; and though it cost me a great many days to
make it, yet, for want of iron, it not only wore out the sooner,
but made my work the harder, and performed it much worse.
However, this I bore with, and was content to work it out
with patience, and bear with the badness of the performance,90 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

When the corn was sown, I had no harrow, but was forced to
go over it myself, and drag a great heavy bough of a tree ov@r
it, to scratch it, as it may be called, rather than rake or har-
row it. When it was growing and grown,, I have observed
already how many things I wanted to fence it, secure it, mow
or reap it, cure and carry it home, thrash, part it from the
chaff, and save it: then I wanted a mill to grind it, sieves to
dress it, yeast and salt to make it into bread, and an oven to
bake it; and yet all these things I did without, as shall be ob-
served; and the corn was an inestimable comfort and advan-
tage to me: all this, as I said, made every thing laborious and
tedious to me, but that there was no help for ; neither was my
time so much loss to me, because, as 1 had divided it, a certain
pact of it was every day appointed to these works; and as |
resolved to use none of the corn for bread till I had a greater
quantity by me, I had the next six months to apply myself

? . . . .
wholly, by labor and invention, to furnish myself with utensils

proper for the performing all the operations necessary for
making corn fit for my use.

But now I was to prepare more land; for I had seed enough
to sow above an acre of ground. Before I did this, I had a
week’s work, at least, to make me a spade; which, when it was
done, was but a sorry one indeed, and very heavy, and required
double labor to work with it: however, I went through that,
and sowed my seed in two large, flat pieces of ground, as near
my house as I could find them to my mind, and fenced them
in with a good hedge; the stakes of which were all cut off that
wood which I had set before, and knew it would grow ; so that,
in one year’s time, I knew | should have a quick or living
hedge, that would want but little repair. This work took me
up full three months; because a great part of the time was in
the wet season, when I could not go abroad. Within doors,
that is, when it rained, and I could not go out, I found em-
ployment on the following occasions; always observing, that
while I was at work, I diverted myself with talkigg to my
parrot, and teaching him to speak; and I quickly ledrned him
to know his own name, and at last to speak it out pretty loud,
Pol; .which was the first word I ever heard spoken in the island
by any mouth but my own. This, therefore, was not my
work, but an assistant to my work ; for now, as [ said, I had a
great employment upon my hands, as follows: [I had long
studied, by some means or other, to make myself some earthen
vessels, which indeed I wanted much, but knew not where to
come at them: however, considering the heat of the climate, |
did not doubt but if [ could find out any clay, I might botch
up some such pot as might, being dried in the sun, be hard
and strong enough to bear handling, and to hold any thing that
wis dry, and required to be kept so; and as this was necessaryROBINSON CRUSOE, 9]
in the preparing corn, meal, &c., which was the thing I was
upon, | resolved to make some as large as I could, and fit only
to stand like jars, to hold what should be put into them.

It would make the reader pity me, or rather laugh at me, to
tell how many awkward ways I took to raise this pastil; what

, ugly things I made; how many of them fel’
in, and how many fell out, the clay not being sti
bear its own weight; how many cracked. by the over-violent
heat of the sun, being set out too hastily ; and how many fell
in pieces with only removing, as well before a& after they were
dried; and, in a word, how, after having“labored hard to
find the clay, to dig it, to temper it, to bring it home, and work
it, I could not make above two large earthen ugly things (1
cannot call them jars) in about two months’ labor.

However, as the sun baked these two very dry and hard,
I lifted them very gently up, and set them down again in
two great wicker baskets, which I had made on purpose for
them, that they might not break; and as between the pot and
the basket there was a little room to spare, I stuffed it full of
the rice and barley-straw ; and these two pots, being to stand
always dry, I thought would hold my dry corn, and perhaps
the meal, when the corn was bruised.

Though I miscarried so much in my design for large pots,
yet I made several smaller things with better success; such
as little round pots, flat dishes, pitchers, and pipkins, and any
thing my hand turned to; and the heat of the sun baked them
very hard.

But all this would not answer my end, which was to get an
earthen pot to hold liquids, and bear the fire, which none of
these could do. It happened, some time after, making a pretty
large fire for cooking my meat, when I went to put it out, after
I had done with it, T found a broken piece of one of my earth-
en-ware vessels in the fire, burnt as hard as a stone, and red as
a tile. I was agreeably surprised to see it; and said to myself,
that certainly they might be made to burn whole, if they would
burn broken.

This set me to study how to order my fire, so as to make
it burn some pots [| had no notion of a kiln, such as the
potters burn in, or of glazing them with lead, though I had
some lead to do it with; but I placed three large pipkins and
two or three pots in a pile, one upon another, and placed my
fire-wood all round it, with a great heap of embers under them.
[ plied the fire with fresh fuel round the outside, and upon the
top, till I saw the pots in the inside red-hot quite through, and
observed that they did not crack at all: when I saw them
clear red, I let them stand in that heat about five or six hours,
till I found one of them, though it did not crack, did melt or
run; for the sand which was mixed with the clay melted by92 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

the violence of he heat, and would have run into glass, if 1
nad gone on; sol slacked my fire gradually, till the pots be-
gan to abate of the red color; and watching them all night,
that I might not let the fire abate too fast, in the mourning I
had three very good, I will not say handsome, PS and
two other earthen pots, as hard burnt as could be esired; and
one of them perfectly glazed with the running of the sand.

After this experiment, I need not say that I wanted no sort
of earthen-ware for my use; but 1 must. needs say, as to the
shapes of them, they were very indifferent, as any one may
suppose, as I had no way of making them but as the children
make diyt pies, or as a woman would make pies that never
learned to raise paste.

No joy at athing of so mean a nature was ever equal to
mine, when I found I had made an earthen pot that would bear
the fire; and I had hardly patience to stay till they were cold,
before I set one on the fire again, with some water in it, to
boil me some meat, which it did admirably well; and with
a piece of a kid I made some very ood broth; though I
wanted oatmeal, and several other ingredients requisite to make
it so good as I would have had it been.

My next concern was to get a stone mortar to stamp or beat
some corn in; for as to the mill, there was no thought of ar-
riving tv that perfection of art with one pair of hands. To
SUD this want I was at a great loss; for of all +rades in the
world, I was as perfectly unqualified for a stone-cutter, as for
any whatever ; neither had I any tools to go about it with. I
spent many a day to find out a great stone big enough to cut
hollow, and make fit for a mortar ; but could find none at all,
except what was in the solid rock, and which I had no way to
dig or cut out; nor, indeed, were the rocks in the island of
sufficient hardness, as they were all of a sandy, crumbling
stone, which would neither bear the weight of a heavy pestle,
nor would break the corn without filling it with sand: so, after
a great deal of time lost in searching for a stone, I gave it over,
and resolved to look out a great block of hard wood, which 1
found indeed much easier; and getting one as big as I had
strength to stir, I rounded it, and formed it on the outside with
my axe and hatchet; and then, with the help of fire, and infi-
nite labor, made a hollow place in it, as the Indians in Brazil
make their canoes. After this, I made a great, heavy pestle, or
beater, of the wood called iron-wood ; and this I prepared and
laid by against [ had my next crop of corn, when I proposed .
to myself to grind, or rather pound, my corn into meal, to
make my breed.

My next difficulty was, to make a sieve, or searce, to dress
my meal, and to part it from the bran and the husk, without
which I did not see it possible I could have any bread.
This was a most difficult thing, even but to think on: for IROBINSON CRUSOR. 93

had nothing like the necessary thing to make it; 1 mean fine
thin canvass or stuff, to searce the meal through. Here I was
at a full stop for many months; nor did I real y know what to
do: linen I had none left, but what was mere rags: I had
goats’-hair, but neither knew how to weave it nor spin it; and
had I known how, here were no tools to work it with ; all the
remedy I found for this was, at last recollecting I had, among
the seamen’s clothes which were saved out of the ship, some
neckcloths of calico or muslin, with some pieces of these |
made three small sieves, proper enough for the work ; and thus
I made shift for some years: how | did afterwards, I shall
show in its place.

‘he baking part was the next thing to be considered, and
how I should make bread when I came to have corn; for, first,
Thad no yeast: as to that part there was no supplying the
want; so I did not concern myself much about it; but for an
oven I was indeed puzzled. At length I found out an expe-
dient for that also, which was this: I made some earthen ves«
sels, very broad, but not deep, that is to say, about two feet
diameter, and not above nine inches deep: these I burned in
the fire, as I had done the other, and laid them by; and when
I wanted to bake, I made a great fire upon my hearth, which
I had paved with some square tiles, of my own making and
burning also; but I should not call them square.

When the fire-wood was burned into embers, or live coals, 1
drew them forward upon the hearth, so as to cover it all over,
and there let them lie till the hearth was very hot; then sweep-
ing away all the embers, I set down my loaf, or loaves, and
covering them with the earthen pot, drew the embers all round
the outside of the pot, to keep in and add to the heat; and
thus, as well as in the best oven in the world, I baked my
barley loaves, and became, in a little time, a good pastry-cook
into the bargain; for I made myself several cakes and pude
dings of the rice; but made no pies, as I had nothing to put
into them except the flesh of fowls or goats.

It need not be wondered at, if all these things took me up
most part of the third year of my abode here; for it is to be
observed, in the intervals of these things, I had my new har-
vest and husbandry to manage. I reaped my corn in its sea-
son, and carried it home as well as I could, and laid it up in
the ear, in my large baskets, till I had time to rub it out; for I
had no floor to thrash it on, or instrument to thrash it with.

And now, indeed, my stock of corn increasing, I really
wanted to build my barns bigger: I wanted as to lay it
up in; for the increase of the corn now yielded me so much,
that I had of the barley about twenty bushels, and of rice as
much, or more, insomuch that now I resolved to begin to use
it freely ; for my bread had been quite gone a great while: |]94 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

resolved alse to see what quantity would be sufficient for me a
whole year, and to sow but once a year.

Upon the whole, I found that the forty bushels of barley and
rice were much more than I could consume In a year; so
resolved to sow just the same quantity every year that I sowed
the last, in hopes that such a quantity would fully provide me
with bread, &c. f

All the while these things were doing, you may be sure my
thoughts ran many times upon the prospect of land which I
had seen from the other side of the istand; and I was not with-
out some secret wishes that I was on shore there; fancying,
‘hat seeing the main land, and an inhabited country, I might
find some way or other to convey myself farther, and perhaps
at last find some means of escape.

But all this while I made no allowance for the dangers of
such a condition, and that I might fall into the hands of savages,
and perhaps such as I might have reason to think far worse than
the lions and tigers of Africa ; that if I once came in their power,
I should run a hazard of more than a thousand to one of being
killed, and perhaps of-being eaten; for 1 had heard that the
people of the Caribbean coast were cannibals, or man-eaters ;
and I knew, by the latitude, that I could not be far off from
that shore. Then supposing they were not cannibals, yet that
they might kill me, as they had many Europeans who had
fallen into their hands, even when they have been ten or twenty
together ; much more I, who was but one, and could make
little or no defence; all these things, I say, which I ought to
have considered well of, and did cast up in my thoughts after-
wards, took up none of my apprehensions at first; yet my head
ran mightily upon the thought of getting over to the shore.

Now I wished for my boy Xury, and the long-boat with the
shoulder-of-mutton sail, with which I sailed above a thousand
miles on the coast of Africa; but this was in vain: then [
thought I would go and look at-our ship’s boat, which, as I
have said, was blown up upon the shore a great way, in the
storm, when we were first cast away. She lay nearly where
she did at first, but not quite; having turned, by the force of
the waves and the winds, almost bottom upward, against a
high ridge of beachy, rough sand; but no water about her as
before. If I had had hands to have refitted her, and to have
launched her into the water, the boat would have done very
well, and I might have gone back into the Brazils with her
easily enough; but I mght have foreseen, that I could no
more turn her and set her upright upon her bottom, than I
could remove the island; however, I went to the woods, and
cut levers and rollers, and brought them to the boat, resolving
to try what I could do; suggesting to myself, that if I could
but turn her down, and repair the damage she had received,
a would be avery good boat, and I might venture to sea
in her.ROBINSON CRUSOE, C5
I spared no pains, indeed, in this piece of
spent, I think, three or four weeks about it:
impossible to heave her up with my little strength, I fell to
seins away the sand, to undermine her, and so as to make

her fall down, setting pieces of wood to thrust and guide her
right in the fall

But when I had done this, Iwas unable
or to get under her, much less to move
the water; sol was forced to give it
I gave over the hopes of the boat

the main increased, rather than diminished, a
it seemed impossible

At length, I began to think

fruitless toil, and
at last, finding it

to stir her up again,
her forward towards

whether it was not possible to

make myself a canoe, or periagua, such as the natives of those
climates make, even without tools, or, as I might say, without
hands, of the trunk of a great tree. This I not only thought
possible, but easy, and pleased myself extremely with the idea
of making it, and with my having much more convenience for
it than any of the Negroes or In lans; but not at all consider-
ing the particular inconveniences which I lay under more than
the Indians did, viz. the want of hands to move it into the water
when it was made—a difficulty much harder for me to sur-
mount than all the consequences of want of tools could be ta
them: for what could it avail me, if, after I had chosen my
tree, and with much trouble cut it down, and might be able
with my tools to hew and dub the outside into the proper
shape of a boat, and burn or cut out the inside to make it hol-
low, so as make a boat of it; if, after all this, I must leave it
just where I found it, and was not able to launch it into the
water ?

One would imagine, if I had had the least reflection upon
my mind of my circumstances while I was making this boat,
I should have immediately thought how I was to get it into the
sea; but my thoughts were so intent upon my voyage in it,
that I never once considered how I shoal get it off the land;
and it was really, in its own nature, more easy for me to guide
it over forty-five miles of sea, than the forty-five fathoms of
land, where it lay, to set it afloat in the water.

I went to work upon this boat the most like a fool that ever
man did, who had any of his senses awake. I pleased myself
with the design, without Gece whether I was able to
undertake it; not but that the difficu ty of launching my boat
came often into my head; but I puta stop to my own inquiries
into it, by this foolish answer: Let me first make it; I warrant
i will find some. way or other to get it along when it is done.

This was a most preposterous method; but the eagerness of
my fancy prevailed, and to work I went. I felled a cedar-tree,
and I question much whether Solomon ever had such a one
for the building of the Temple at Jerusalem; it was five feet96 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

- ten inches diameter at the lower part next the stump, and four
: feet eleven inches diameter at the end of twenty-two feet,
where it lessened, and then parted.into branches. It was not
without infinite labor that I felled this tree; I was twenty days
hacking and hewing at the bottom, and fourteen more getting
the branches and limbs, and the vast spreading head of it, cut
off: after this, it cost me a month to shape it and dub it toa
proportion, and to something like the bottom of a boat, that it
© raiahie swim upright as it ought to do. It cost me near three
months more to clear the inside, and work it out so as to make
an exact boat of it: this I did, indeed, without fire, by mere
mallet and chisel, and by the dint of hard labor, till I had
brouglit it to be a very handsome periagua, and big enough to
i have carried six and twenty men, and consequently big
bel” enough to have carried me and all my care:
: When I had gone through this work, I was extremely de-
lighted with it. ‘The boat was really much bigger than ever
I saw a_canoe or periagua, that was made of one tree, in my
life. Many a weary stroke it had cost, you may be sure; and
there remained nothing but to get it into the water; which,
had I accomplished, I make no question but I should have
begun the maddest voyage, and the most unlikely to be per-
formed, that ever was undertaken.
But all my devices to get it into the water failed me, though
they cost me inexpressible labor too. It lay about one hundred
| yards from the water, and not more; but the first inconve-
e8 nience was, it was up hilltowardsthecreek. Well, to take away
this discouragement, I resolved to dig into the surface of the
earth, and so make a declivity: this 1 began, and it cost me a
prodigious deal of pains; (but who grudge pains that have 5
their deliverance in view Y when this was worked through,
and this difficulty managed, it was still much the same, for I
could no more stir the canoe than I could the other boat. Then
I measured the distance of ground, and resolved to cut a dock |
or canal, to bring the water up to the canoe, seeing I could 4
not bring the canoe down to the water. Well, I began this |
work; and when I began to enter upon it, and calculate how
deep it was to be dug, how broad, how the stuff was to be
thrown. out, I found by the number of hands I had, having
none but my own, that it must have been ten or twelve
years before I could have gone through with it; for the shore
lay so high, that at the upper end it must have been at least |
twenty feet deep: this attempt, though with great reluctancy, ?
I was at length obliged to give over also.
‘his grieved me heartily ; and now I saw, though too late,
Te the folly of beginning a work before we count the cost, and
re before we judge rightly of our own strength to go through
with it. ,
Jn the middle of this work, I finished my fourth year in thisROBINSON CRUSOE. 97

piace, and kept my anniversary with the same devotion, and
with as much comfort as before; for, by a constant study and
serious application to the word of God, and by the assistance
of his grace, I gained a different knowledge from what I had
before; [entertained different notions of things; I looked now
upon the world as a thing remote, which I had nothing to do
with, no expectation from, and, indeed, no desires about: In @
word, I had nothing te do with it, nor was ever likely to have ;
I thought it looked, as we may perhaps look upon it hereafter,
viz. as a place I had lived in, but was come out of it; and well
might I say, as father Abraham to Dives, ‘‘ Between me and
thee is a great eulf fixed.”

lace, I was here removed from all the wicked-

In the first p
ness of the world; I had neither the lust of the flesh, the lust

of the eye, nor the pride of life. I had nothing to covet, for
had all that I was now capable of enjoying : I was lord of the
whole manor; or, if I pleased, Lntight call myself king or em-
peror over the whole country which I had possession of; there
were no rivals; 1 had no competitor, none to dispute sove-
relgnty or command with me: I might have raised ship-load-
ings of corn, but I had no use for it; so I let as little grow as
I thought enough for my occasion. I had tortoise or turtle
enough, but. now and then one was as much as I could put to
any use: I had timber enough to have built a fleet of ships;
and I had grapes enough to have made wine, or to have cured
into raisins, to have loaded that fleet when it had been built.

But all I could make use of was all that was valuable : 1 had
enough to eat and supply my wants, and what was the rest to
me? If I killed more flesh than 1 could eat, the dog must eat
it, or vermin ; ‘f [sowed more corn than I could eat, it must
be spoiled; the trees that I cut down were lying to rot on the

round; I could make no more use of them than for fuel, and
that I had no other occasion for but to dress my food.

In a word, the nature and ex nerience of things dictated ta°
me, upon just reflection, that all the good things of this world
are of no further good to us than for our use; and that what-

cver we may heap up to give others, we enjoy only as much
as we can use, and no more. The most covetous griping
miser in the world would have been cured of the vice of covet-
ousness, if he had been in my case; for I possessed infinitely
more than I knew what to do with. 1 had no room for desire,
except it was for things which I had not, and they were coil-
paratively but trifles, though indeed of great use to me. 1 had,
as [ hinted beiore, a parcel of money, as well gold as silver, about
thirty-six pounds sterling. Alas! there the nasty, sorry, use-
less stuff lay: 1 had no manner of business for it; and I often
thought within myself, that I would have given a handful of it
for a gross of tobacco-pipes, or for @ hand-mill to grind my
corn; nay, lL would have given it all for sixpenny-worth of tur-
5ROBINSON CRUSOE.

sg ty
eae

a

  

nip and carrot seed from Hngland, or for a handful of peas and
beans, and a bottle of ink. As it was, I had not the least ad-
vantage by it, or benefit from it; but there it lay in a drawer,
and grew mouldy with the damp of the cave in the wet sea-
sons; and if [ had had the drawer full of diamonds, it had been
the same case,—they had been of no manner of value to me,
because of no use.

I had now brought my state of life to be much more com-
fortable in itself than it was at first, and much easier to my
mind, as well as to my body. I frequently sat down to meat
with thankfulness, and admired the hand of God’s providence
which had thus spread my table in the wilderness; I learne
to look more upon the bright side of my condition, and less
upon the dark side, and to consider what [| enjoyed, rather
than what I wanted; and this gave me sometimes such secret
comforts, that I cannot express them; and which I take notice
of here, to put those discontented people in mind of it, who
cannot enjoy comfortably what God has given them, because
they see and covet something that he has not given them. All
our discontents about what we want, appeared to me to spring
from the want of thankfulness for what we have.

Another reflection was of great use to me, and doubtless
would be so to any one that should fall into such distress as
mine was; and this was, to compare my present condition
with what I at first expected it would be; nay, with what itSect a a a

ROBINSON CRUSOE. 99

would certainly have been, if the good providence of God had
not wonderfully ordered the ship to be cast up near to the
shore, where I not only could come at her, but could bring
what [ got out of her to the shore, for my relief and comfort ;
without which, I had wanted for tools to work, weapons for
defence, and gunpowder and shot for getting my food.

I spent whole hours, [ may say whole days, in representing

to myself, in the most lively colors, how I must have acted if
I had got nothing out of the ship. I could not have so much ©
as got any food, except fish and turtles; and that, as it was
long before I found any of them, I must have perished ; that I
should have lived, if I had not perished, like a mere savage 3
that if [ had killed a goat or a fowl, by any contrivance, I had
no way to flay or open it, or part the flesh from the skin and
the bowels, or to cut it up; but must gnaw it with my teeth,
and pull it with my claws, like a beast.
These reflections made me very sensible of the goodness
of Providence to me, and very thankful for my present condi-
tion, with all its hardships and misfortunes ; and this part also
1 cannot but recommend to the reflection of those who are apt,
in their misery, to say, Is any affliction like mine? Let them
consider how much worse the cases of some people are, and
their case might have been, if Providence had thought fit.

I had another reflection, which assisted me also to comfort
my mind with hopes; and this was, comparing my present
condition with what I had deserved, and had therefore reason
to expect from the hand of Providence. 1 had lived a dreadful
life, perfectly destitute of the knowledge and fear of God. I
had been well instructed by my father and mother; neither
had they been wanting to me, in their endeavors to infuse an
early religious awe of God into my mind, a sense of my duty,
and what the nature and end of my being required of me.
But, alas! falling early into the seafaring life, which, of all lives,
is the most destitute of the fear of God, though his terrors are
ulways before them; I say, falling early into the seafaring life,
and into seafaring company, all that little sense of religion
which J had entertained was laughed out of me by my mess
mates, by a hardened despising of dangers, and the views ol
death, which grew habitual to me; by my long absence from
all manner of opportunities to converse with any thing but
what was like myself, or to hear any thing that was good, or
tending towards it.

So void was | of every thing that was good, or of the least
sense of what I was, or was to be, that in the greatest deliver-
ances I enjoyed (such as my escape from Sallee, my being
taken up by the Portuguese master of a ship, my being

lanted so well in the Brazils, my receiving the cargo from
ialand: and the like), I never had once the words, ‘Thank
God, so much as on my mind, or in my mouth; nor in the100 ROBINSON CRUSOP.

greatest distress had I so much as a thought to pray to him,
or so much as to say, Lord, have mercy upon me! no, nor to
mention the name of God, unless it was to swear by, and blas-
pheme ity

{ had terrible reflections upon my mind for many months,
as I have already observed, on account of my wicked and
hardened life past; and when I looked about me, and consid-
ered what particular providences had attended me since my
coming into this place, and how God had dealt bountifully
with me,—had not only punished me less than my iniquity
had deserved, but had so plentifully provided for me,—this
gave me great hopes that my repentance was accepted, and
that God had yet mercies in store for me.

With these reflections, I worked my mind up, not only toa
resignation to the will of God in the present disposition of my
circumstances, but even to a sincere thankfulness for my con-=
dition; and that I, who was yet a living man, ought not to
complain, seeing I had not the due punishment of my Sins ;
that I enjoyed so many mercies which I had no reason to have
expected in that place, that I ought never more to repine at
my condition, but to rejoice, and to give daily thanks for that
daily bread which nothing but a crowd of wonders could have
brought; that I ought to consider I had been fed by a miracle,
even as great as that of feeding Elijah by ravens; nay, by a
log series of miracles; and that I could hardly have named a

lace in the uninhabitable part of the world where I could
ave been castmore to my sdleanunees a place where, as I had
no society, which was my afiliction on one hand, so I found ne
ravenous beasts, no furious wolves or tigers, to threaten my
life ; no venomous or poisonous creatures which I might- feed
on to my hurt; no savages to murder and devour me. Ina
word, as my life was a life of sorrow one way, so it was a life
of mercy another; and I wanted nothing to make it a life of
comfort, but to make myself sensible of God’s goodness to me,
and care over me in this condition; and after I did make a
just improvement of these things, | went away, and was no
more sad.

{ had now been here so long, that many things which |
brought on shore for my help were either quite gone, or very
much wasted, and near spent.

My ink, as I observed, had been gone for some time, all but
a very little, which I eked out with water, a little and a little,
till it was so pale, it scarce left any appearance of black upon
the paper. As long as it lasted, I made use of it to minute
down the days of the month on which any remarkable thing
happened to me; and, first, by casting up times past, [ re-
member that there was a strange concurrence of days in the
various providences which befell me, and which, if I had been
superstitiously inclined to observe days as fatal or fortunate, I
might have had reason to have looked upon with a great deal
ol curiosity.ROBINSON CRUSOR. 101

First, [ had observed, that the same day that I broke away
from my father and my friends, and ran away to Hull, in order
to go to sea, the same day afterwards I was taken by the Sallee
man-of-war, and made a slave: the same day of theByear that
I escaped out of the wreck of the ship in Yarmouth Roads,
that same day-year afterwards I made my escape from Sallee
in the boat; and the same day of the year I was born on, Viz.
the 30th of September, that same day I had may life so miracu-
lously saved twenty-six years after, when I was cast on shore
in this island: so that my wicked life and my solitary life be.
gan both on one day.

The next thing to my ink being wasted, was that of my
bread ; I mean the biscuit which I brought out of the ship: this
I had husbanded to the last degree, allowing myself but one
cake of bread a day for above a year; and yet I was quite
without bread for near a year before I got any corn of my
own; and great reason I had to be thankful that I had any at
all, the getting it, being, as has been already observed, next to
miraculous.

My clothes, too, began to decay mightily : as to linen, I had
none for a great while, except some checkered shirts, which 1
found in the chests of the other seamen, and which I carefully
preserved, because many times I could bear no clothes on but
a shirt; and it was a very great help to me, that I had, among
all the men’s clothes of the ship, almost three dozen of shirts.
‘There were also, indeed, several thick watch-coats of the sea-
men’s which were left, but they were too hot to wear; and
though it is true that the weather was so violently hot that
there was no need of clothes, yet I could not go quite naked ;
no, though I had been inclined to it, which I was not; nor
could [ abide the thought of it, though I was all alone. The
reason why I could not go quite naked, was, I could not bear
the heat of the sun so well when quite naked as with some
clothes on; nay, the very heat frequently blistered my skin ;
whereas, with a shirt on, the air itself made some motion, and
whistling under the shirt, was twofold cooler than without it.
No more could | ever bring myself to go out in the heat of the
sun without a cap or hat; the heat of the sun beating with
such violence as it does in that place, would give me the head-
ache presently, by darting so directly upon my head, without
a cap or hat on, so that | could not bear it; whereas, if I put on
my hat, it would presently go away. _

Upon these views, [ began to consider about putting the
few rags I had, which I called clothes, into some order: | had
worn out all the waistcoats I had, and my business was now to
try if I could not make jackets out of the great watch-coats
that I had by me, and with such other materials as I had; so
I set to work a tailoring, or rather, indeed, a botching, for I102 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

made most piteous work of it. However, I made shift to make

two or three new waistcoats, which I hoped would serve me a

great while: as for breeches or drawers, I made but a very sorry

shift indeed till afterwards.

{ have mentioned, that I saved the skins of all the creatures
that I killed, I mean four-footed ones; and I had hung them
up, stretched out with sticks, in the sun, by which means
some of them were so dry and hard that they were fit for little ;
but others I found very useful. The first thing [ made of these
was a great cap for my head, with the hair on the outside, ta
shoot off the rain ; and this I performed so well, that after this
i made me a suit of clothes wholly of the skins ; that is to say,
a waistcoat, and breeches open at the knees, and both loose;
for they were rather wanting to keep me cool than warm. I must
not omit to acknowledge that they were wretchedly made ; for
if I was a bad carpenter, I was a worse tailor. However, they
were such as I made very good shift with; and when I was
abroad, if it happened to rain, the hair of my waistcoat and
cap being uppermost, I was kept very dry.

After this I spent a great deal of time and pains to make me
an umbrella: 1 was indeed in great want of one, and had a
great mind to make one: I had seen them made in the Brazils,
where they were very useful in the great heats which are
there; and I felt the heats every jot as great here, and greater
too, being nearer the equinox: besides, as I was obliged to be
much abroad, it was a most useful thing to me, as well for the
rains as the heats. I took a world of pains at it, and was a
great while before I could make any thing likely to hold: ay,
after I thought I had hit the way, | spoiled two or three before
i made one tomy mind; but at last I made one that answered
indifferently well; the main difficulty, I found, was to make it
to let down: I could make it spread, but if it did not let down
too, and draw in, it was not portable for me any way but just
over my head, which would not do. However, at last, as
I said, I made one to answer, and covered it with skins, the
hair upwards, so that it cast off the rain like a pent-house, and
kept off the sun so effectually, that I could walk out_in the
hottest of the weather with greater advantage than I could
before in the coolest; and when I had no need of it, could
close it, and carry it under my arm.

Thus I lived mighty comfortably, my mind being entirely
composed by resigning to the will of God, and throwing my-
self wholly upon the disposal of his providence, This made
my life better than sociable; for when I began to regret the
want of conversation, I would ask myself, whether thus con-
versing mutually with my own thoughts, and, as I hope I may
say, with even God himself, by ejaculations, was not better
than the utmost enjoyment of human society in the world?

I jor five years, any extraordinary

4 cannot say that after this,ROBINSON CRUSOE. 103

thing happened to me, but I lived on in the same course, in
the same posture and place, just as before: the chief things |
was employed in, besides my yearly labor of planting my bar-
ley and rice, and curing my raisins, of beth which [ always
kept up just enough to have sufficient stock of one year’s pro-
vision befcrehand; I say, besides this yearly labor, and my
daily pursuit ef gcing out with my gun, I had one labor to
make me a canoe, which at last I finished; so that by digging a
canal to it of six feet wide, and four feet deep, I brought it into
the creek, almost half a mile. As for the first, which was so
vastly big, as 1 made it without considering beforehand, as 1
ought to do, how I should be able to launch it, so, never being
able to bring it inte the water, or bring the water to it, I was
obliged to let it lie where it was, as a memorandum to teach
me to be wiser the next time; indeed, the next time, though I
could not get a tree proper for it, and was in a place where I]
could not get the water to it at any less distance than, as I have
said, near half a mile, yet as I saw it was practicable at last, 1
never gave it over; and though ] was near two years about it,
yet I never grudged my labor, in hepes of having a beat to go
off to sea at last.

However, though my little periagua was finished, yet the
size of it was not at all answerable to the design which I had
in view when 1 made the first; I mean, of venturing ever to
the terra firma, where it was abeve forty miles broad; accord-
ingly, the smallness of my boat assisted to put an ena to that
design, and now thought no more of it. As I had a boat,
my next design was to make a cruise round the island ; for as
i had been on the other side in one place, crossing, as I have
already described it, over the land, so the discoveries T made
in that little journey made me very eager to see other parts
of the coast: and now I had a boat, I thought of nothing but
sailing round the island.

For this purpose, that 1 might doevery thing with discretion
and consideration, I fitted up a little mast in my boat, and
made a sail to it out of some of the pieces of the ship’s sails
which lay in store, and of which I had a great stock by me.
Having fitted my mast and sail, and tried the boat, I found she
would sail very well: then I made little lockers, or boxes, at
each end of my boat, to put provisions, necessaries, ammu-
nition, 6vc. into, to be kept dry, either from rain or the spray
of the sea; and alittle, long, hollow place I cut in the inside of
the boat, where I could lay my gun, making a flap to hang
down over it, to keep it dry.

I fixed my umbrella also in a step at the stern, like a mast,
to stand over “my head, and keep the heat of the sun off me,
like an awning; and thus I every now and then took a little
voyage upon the sea, but never went far out, nor far from the
litile creek. At last, being eager to view the circumference
of my little kingdom, I Soe upon my cruise; and accord-104 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

ingly I victualled my ship for the voyage, putting in two
dozen of loaves (cakes ibsorste rather cal] them) of barley
bread, an earthen pot full of parched rice (a food I ate a great
deal of}, a little bottle of rum, half a goat, and powder and
shot for killing more, and two large watch-coats, of those
which, as I mentioned before, I liad saved out of the seamen’s
chests; these I took, one to lie upon, and the other to cover
me in the night.

It was the 6th of November, in the sixth year of my reign,
or my captivity, which you please, that I set out on this
voyage, and I found it much longer than I expected; for
though the island itself was not very large, yet when I came
to the east side of it, I found a great ledge of rocks lie out about
two leagues into the sea, some above water, some under it; and
beyond that a shoal of sand, lying dry half a league more, so
that I was obliged to go a great way out to sea to double
the point. ‘

When first I discovered them, I was going to give over my
enterprise, and come back again, not knowing how far it
might oblige me to go out to sea, and, above all, doubting how
I should get back again; soI came to an anchor; for I had
made me a kind of an anchor with a piece of a broken grap-
pling which I got out of the ship.

Having secured my boat, I took my gun and went on shore,
climbing up on a hill, which seemed to overlook that point,
where | saw the full extent of it, and resolved to venture.

In my viewing the sea from that hill, where I stood, 1 per-
ceived a strong, and indeed a most furious current, which ran
to the east, and even came close to the point; and I took the
more notice of it, because I saw there might be some danger,
that when I came into it, I might be carried out to sea by the
strength of it, and not be able to make the island agein; and,
indeed, had 1 not got first upon this hill, I believe :t would
have been so; for there was tlie same current on the other side
the island, only that it set off at a further distance, and I saw
there was a strong eddy under the shore; so I had nothing to
do but to get out of the first current, and I should presently
be in an eddy.

{ lay here, however, two days, because the wind blowing
pretty fresh at E.S.E., and that being just contrary to the said
current, made a great breach of the sea upon the point; so
that it was not safe for me to keep too close to the shore for
the breach, nor to go too far off because of the stream.

The third day, in the morning, the wind having abated
over night, the sea was calm, and I ventured; but I am
warning-piece again to all rash and ignorantspilots; for ne
sooner was | come to the point, when I was not even my boat’s
length from the shore, but I found myself in a great depth of
water, and a current like the sluice of a mill: it carried my

aROBINSON CRUSOE,

poat along with it with such violence, that all I could do could
not keep her so much as on the edge of it; but I found it hur-
ried me farther and farther out from the eddy, which was on
my left hand. 'There was no wind stirring to help me, and all
{ could do with my paddles signified nothing: and now |
began to give myself over for lost; for as the current was on
both sides of the island, I knew in a few leagues’ distance they
must jom again, and then I was irrecoverably gone; nor did
i see any possibility of avoiding it; so that I had no prospect
before me but of perishing; not by the sea, for that was calm
enough, but of starving for hunger. I had, indeed, found a
tortoise on the shore, as big almost asI could lift, and had
tossed it into the boat ; and I had a great jar of fresh water, that
is to say, one of my earthen pots; but what was all this to
being driven into the vast ocean, where, to be sure, there was
no shore, no main land or island, for a thousand leagues at
least?

And now I saw how easy it was for the providence of God
io make even the most miserable condition of mankind worse.
Now I looked back upon my desolate, solitary island, as the
most pleasant place in the world; and all the happiness my
heart could wish for was to be but there again. I stretched
out my hands to it, with eager wishes: “ 6 happy desert!”
said I, ‘I shall never see thee more. O miserable creature !
whither am I gomg?” ‘Then I reproached myself with my
tinthankful temper, and how I had repined at my solitary con-

ition; and now what would | give to be on shore there again !
Thus we never. see the true state of our condition till it is ilfus-
trated to us by its contraries, nor know how to value what we
enjoy, but by the want of it. It is scarce possible to imagine

P55

SE

 

1
1°
1
A

the consternation I was now in, being driven from my beloved
island (for so it appeared to me now to be), into the wide

ocean, almost two leagues, and in the utmost ee of ever
ecovering it again. However, I worked hard, till indeed my
strength was almost exhausted, and kept my boat as much to
the northward, that is, towards the side of the current which
the eddy lay on, as possibly I cq@gld; when about noon, as the
sun passea the meridian, | thought I felt a little breeze of
wind in my face, springing up from S.S.E. This cheered my
heart alittle, and especially, when, in about half an hour more,
it blew a pretty gentle gale. By this time I was got at a
sehtful distance from the island; and had the least cloudy or
1azy weather intervened, I had been undone another way too;
or £ had no compass on board, and should never have known
ow to have steered towards the island, if I had but once lost
‘ht of it; but the weather continuing clear, I applied myself

r

ght ; le :
to get up my mast again, and spread my sail, standing away

l I 4 : 7 f° 1 ,
to the north as much as possible, to get out of the current.

0
; I had set my mast and sail, and the boat began to106 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
stretch away, | saw, even by the clearness of the water, some
alteration of the current was near ; for where the current was
so strong, the water was foul; but perceiving the water clear,
I found the current abate; and presently I found to the east,
at about half a mile, a breach of the sea upon some rocks:
these rocks I found caused the current to part again, and as
the main stress of it ran away more southerly, ‘leaving the
rocks to the north-east, so the ‘other returned by the repulse
of the rocks, and made a strong eddy, which ran back again
to the north-west, with a very sharp stream.

They who know what it is to have a reprieve brought to
them upon the ladder, or to be rescued from thieves just going
peei raer them, or who have been im such like extremities,
may guess ehat my present surprise of joy was, and how
gladly i put my boat into the stream of this eddy ; and the
wind also freshening, how gladly I spread my sail to it, run-
ning cheerfully before the w ind, and with a strong tide or
eddy under foot.

This eddy carried me about a league in my way back
again, directly towards the island, but about two le: ugues 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 sone hing puote than a league of way by
the help of this current or , | found it was spent, and
served me no further. es “ found that being between
two great currents, viz. that on the south side, whic h had hur-
ried me away, and that on the north, which lay about a league
on the other side; I say, between these tw 0, in the w ake 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
pesos. dire ectly. for the island, though not making such fresh
way as I did before.

About four o’clock in the eve ning, being then within a
league of the island, I found the point of the rocks which oc-
casioned this disaster, stret@ing out, as is described before,
to the souehard, and cast ng off the current more southe arly,

had, of course, made another eddy to the north; a and this |
found very stron g, but not directly setting the way my course
lay , which was due west, but almost full north. However,
ha Wing 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 w ater, I soon got to land.
When. I was on shore ic fell on my knees, and wave 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 broug] ht my boat close to the shore ina
little cove that I had spied under some trees, and laid me down

to sleep, being quite spent with the labor and fatigue of the
voyage.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 107

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
éase, to think of attempting it by the way I went eut; 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 only
resolved in the 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
nbout three miles, or thereabouts, coasting the shore, | 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 harbor for my beat, and where she lay as if she
had been in a little deck made on purpose for her. Here }
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 }
had been before, when I travelled on foot to that shore; so,
taking nothing ovt of my beat but my gun and umbrella,—for
it was exceeding hot,—I began my march. The way wascom-
fortable enough after such a voyage as I had been upen, and
I reached my old bower in the evening, where I found every
thing 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
Dy my name several times, “ Robin, Robin, Rebin Crusoe ;
poor Robin Crusoe! Where are you, Rebin 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 walk-
ang the latter part, that I did not wake thoroughly ; but dozing
between sleeping and waking, thought I dreamed that some-
body spoke te me; but as the voice continued to repeat Robin
Crusoe, Rebin Crusoe, at last I began to wake more perfectly,
and was at first dreadfully frightened, and started up in the
utmost consternation; but no seoner were my eyes open, but
i saw my Pol sitting on the top of the hedge; and immediate-
iy knew it was he that spoke to me; for just in such bemoan-
ing language I had used to talk to him, and teach him; and

he had learned it so perfectly, that he would sit ea my fin-
ger, 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 erg and that
indeed it could be nobody else, it was a good while before I
could compose myself. First, I was amazed how the gig168 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

got thither, and then how he should just keep about the piace,
and no where else; but as I was well satisfied it could be no-
body but honest Pol, I got over it; and holding out my hand,
and calling him by his name, Pol, the sociable creature came
to me, and sat upon my thumb, as he used to do, and contin
ued talking to me, Poor Robin Crusoe ! and how did I come
here; and where had I been; just as if he had been overjoyea
to see me again; and so I carried him homie along with me. —

IT now fed enough of rambling to sea for some time, and-had
enough to do for many days, fo sti still, and reflect upon the
danger I had been in. I would have been very giad to have
had my boat again on my side of the island; but { 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, [ might run
she same risk of being driven down the stream, and carried by
the island, as I had been before of being carried away from 1t ;
s0, with these thoughts, I contented myself to be without any
boat, though it had been the product of so many months’ la-
bor 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,
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, | thought I lived really very happily in all things,
except that of society. 7.

I improved myself in this time in all the mechanic exercises
which my necessities put me upon applying myself to; and
believe [ could, upon occasion, have made a very good carpen-
ter, especially considering how few tools I had.

Besides this, I arrived at an unexpected perfection in my
earthen-ware, and contrived well enough to make them with
a wheel, which I found infinitely easier and better; because I
made things round and shapable, 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 any thing 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 burnt red, like other earthen-ware; yet as it was hard

I
d

1
and firm, and would draw the smoke, I was exceedingly coun.
forted with it, for 1 had been always used to smoke ; and there
were pipes in the ship, but I forgot them at first, not think
ing that there was tobacco in the island; and afterwards,
when I searched the ship again, I could not come at any

pipes at all.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 109

in my wicker-ware also I improved much, and made abun-
dance 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 my 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
plese, 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 bas-
kets 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,
_ began now to perceive my powder abated considerably : this

was a want which it was impossible for me to supply, and I be-
gan seriously to consider what I must do when I should have no
more powder; that is to say, how I should do to 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- ; but 1 eae not by any means bring it te

pass, till my kid grew an old goat; and as I could never find

ny heart to kiil her, she died at last of mere age.
But being now in the eleventh year of my residence, and
D 3 I

as I have said, my ammunition growing low, I set myself ta
study some art to trapeand snare the goats, to see whether ¥
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; soI 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 | 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 morn-
ine, | found them all standing, and yet the bait eaten and
this was very discouraging. However, I altered my
- 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
bout 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 [even let him out, and he ran
away, as if he had been frightened out of his wits. But f did

gO a
iEEO ROBINSON CRUSOE.

not then know, what I afterwards learnt, that hunger will tame
a.dion. If I had let him stay there three or four days without
food, and then have carried him some water to drink, and then
a little corn, he weuld have been as tame as one of the kids;
for they are mighty sagacious, tractable creatures, where they
are well used. : i

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 diffi-
culty 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 my:
sel: with goat’s flesh when I had no powder or shot left,
breeding some up tame was my only way ; when, perhaps,
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;
énd the only way for this was, to have some inclosed 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.

i This was a great undertaking for one pair of hands; yet as
be || I saw there was an absolute necessity for doing it, my first
work was to find out a proper piece Of ground, where there
Be was likely to be herbage for them to eat, water for them to
i drink, and cover to keep them from the sun.

‘Those who understand such inclosures will think I had very
little contrivance, when I pitched upon a place very proper
for all these (being a plain open piece of meadow land, or sa-

vannah, as our people call it in the western colonies), which
me | had two or three little drills of fresh water in it, and at one end

“| was very woody; I say, they will smile at my forecast when

f shall tell them, I began by inclosing this piece of ground
in such a manner, that my hedge or pale must have been at

fs &
5

- j z ars
Jeast twe miles about. Nor was the madness of it so great as |
!

 

to the compass, for if it was ten miles about, I was like to have

time enough to do it in; but I did not consider that mv goats

would be as wild in so much compass as if they had had the

whole island, and I should have so much reom to chase them

in, that I should never catch them. |

fy hedge was begun and carried on, I believe, about fifty

pe yards, when this thought occurred to me; so I presently {

Pi stopped short, and, for the first beginning, I resolved to in- *
close a piece of about 150 yarés in length, and 100 yards in |
breadth ; which, as it would maintain as many as I should

nave In any reasonable time, so, as my stock increased, | could

\ add more ground to my inclosure.

This was acting with some prudence, and I went to worka+

ROBINSON CRUSOE. lil

with courage. Iwas about three months hedging in the firs?

lece; and, till I had done it, I tethered the three kids in the
Dest part of it, and used them to feed as near me as possible, to
make them familiar; and very often I would go and carry
them some ears of barley, or a handful of rice, and feed them
out of my hand; so that after my inclosure was finished, and
I let them loose, they would follow me up and down, bleating
after me for a handful of corn.

This answered my end; and in about a year and a half |

jhad a flock of about twelve goats, kids and all; and in two
‘years more, I had three and forty, besides several that I took
and killed for my food. After that I inclosed five several
pieces of ground to feed them in, with little pens to drive them
into, to take them as I wanted, and gates out of one piece of
ground into another.
_ But this was not all; for now I not only had goat’s flesh to
feed on when I pleased, but milk too—a thing which, indeed,
in the beginning, I did not so much as think of, and which,
when it came into my thoughts, was really an agreeable sure
prise; for now I set up my dairy, and had sometimes a gallon
or two of milk ina day. And as nature, who gives supplies
of food to every creature, dictates even naturally how to make
use of it, so I, that had never milked a cow, much less a goat,
or seen butter or cheese made, only when I was a boy, after a
great many essays and miscarriages, made me both butter and
cheese at last, and also salt (though I found it partly made to
my hand by the heat of the sun upon some of the rocks of the
sea), and never wanted it afterwards. How mercifully can
our Creator treat his creatures, even in those conditions in
which they seemed to be overwhelmed in destruction! How
can he sweeten the bitterest providences, and give us cause to
praise him for dungeons and prisons! What a table was here
spread for me in a wilderness, where I saw nothing, at first,
but to perish for hunger !

It would have made a stoic smile, to have seen me and my

at my absolute command; | could hang, draw, give

and take it away; and no rebels among all my sub-

Then to see how like a king I dined too, all alone, at-

Pol, as if he had been my favorite,

s the only person permitted to talk to me. My dog, who

was now grown very old and crazy, and had found no species

iply his kind upon, sat always at my right hand; and

s, one on one side of the table, and one on the other,

expecting now and then a bit from my hand, as a mark of
| fa Yr.

a )
4 py s .
But these were not the two cats which I brought on shore at
first, for they were both of them dead, and had been interred112 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

near my habitation by my own hand; but one of them having
multiplied by I know not what kind of creature, these were
two which I had preserved tame; whereas the rest run wild
in the woods, and became indeed troublesome to me at last;
for they would often come into my house, and plunder me too,
till at last 1 was obliged to shoot them, and did kill a great many :
at length they left me.—With this attendance, and in this
plenuful manner, I lived ; neither could I be said to want any
thing but society; and of that, some time after this, | was
like to have too much.

I was something impatient, as I have observed, to have the
use of my boat, though very loath to run any more hazards;
and, therefore, sometimes I sat contriving ways te get her
about. the island, and- at other times I sat myself down con-
tented enough without her. But I had a strange uneasiness
in my mind to go down to the point of the island, where, as 1
have said, in my last ramble, I went up the hill to see how the
fore lay, and how the current set, that I might see what k
had to do: this inclination increased upon me every day, and
at length I resolved to travel thither by land, following the
edge of the shore. I did so; but had any one in England
been to meet such a man as I was, it must either have fright-
ened him, or raised a great deal of laughter; and as | fre-
quently stood still to look at myself, I could not but smile at
the notion of my travelling through Yorkshire, with such an
equipage, and im such a dress. Be pleased to take a sketch
of my figure, as follows :—

I had a great, high, shapele

q

ss cap, made of a goat’s skin,
with a flap hanging down behind,

id, as well to keep the sun
from me as to shoot the rain off from running into my neck:
nothing being so hurtful in these climates as the rain upon the
flesh, under the clothes.

I had a short Jacket of goat’s skin, the skirts coming down to
about the middle of the thighs, and a pair of open-kneed breeches
of the same; the breeches were made of the skin of an old he-
ny mh a1r - 7 1
goat, whose hair hung down such a length on either side, that,
like pantaloons, it reached to the middle of my legs: stockings
and shoes | had none, but had made me a pair of somethings,
i scarce know what to call them, like buskins, to flap over my
legs, and lace on either side like spatterdashes; but of a most
barbarous shape, as indeed were all the rest of mv clothes.

ndemida bead | Reheat en

had on a broad belt of goat’s skin dried, which I drew to-
gether with two thongs of the same, instead of buckles; and
in @ Kind ol a treg on either side of this, instead of a sword and
dagger, hung a little saw and a hatchet; one on one side. and

c tO ay poe a Tiers
one on the other. I had another belt, not so broad, and fas-
tened in the same manner, which hung over my shoulder; and
at the end of it, under

 

my left arm, hung two pouches, both
made of goat’s skin too; in one of which hung my powder, in
the other my shot. At my back I carried my basket, and on

  

“ROBINSON CRUSOR. 113

my shoulder my gun; and over my head, a great, clumsy,
ugly, goat’s skin umbrella, but which, after all, was the most
necessary thing Thad about me, next to my gun. As for my
face, the color of it was really not so mul: atto-like as one might
expect from a man not at all careful of it, and living within
Hine or ten degrees of the equinox. My ‘beard I had once
suffered to grow till it was about a quarter of a yard long; but
as I had both 1 scissors and razors sufficient, I had cut it pretty
short, e xcept what grew on my upper lip, which I had trimmed
into a le pair of Mah 10metan whiskers, such as I had seen
worn by some Turks at Sallee; for the Moors did not wear
such, though the Turks did: of these mustachios, or whiskers,
I will not say they were long enough to hang n ny hat upon

them, but they were of a seneeD and ‘shape monstrous enough,
and such as, in Ex gland, would have passed for frightful.

But all this is } “the bye ; for as to my figure, I had so few
to observe me, that it was of non inner of consequence ; so f
say no more to that part. In this kind of figure I went my

new journey, and was out five or six days. I travelled f
along the sea-shore , directly to the place where I first brought
my boat to an anch or, to get upon the rocks; and having no
boat now to take care’ of, T went over the land, a nearer way,
to the same height that I was aponshelore: when, iook ing for-
ward to the point of the rocks which lay out, and which f was
obliged to double with my boat, as is said ‘above, I was sur-
prised to see the sea all ; smooth and quiet; no rippl
motion, no current, any more there than in any Olney places.
I was at a strange loss to understand this, and resolved to spend
some time in the ob serving it, see if nothing font the sets
of the tide had oce ioned it; but I was prese ently convince d
how it was, viz. that the tide of ebb setting from the west, and
joing with the > current of waters from some great river on the
shore, must be the occasion of this current ; ‘and that accord-
ing as the a i lew more forcibly from the west, or from the
north, this current came nearer, or went fart her from the
shore; for waiting thereabouts till evening, I went up to the
rock again, and then the tide of ebb being made, if plainly
saw the current again as before, only that it ran farther off,
being near half a league from the s ore; whereas in my case,
it set close upon the shore, and hurried me and n y canoe
along with it; ‘which, at another time, it would not hoe e done

This observation convinced me, that I had nothing to do
but to observe the ebbing and the flowing of the tide, and }
might very easily bring my boat about che island again; but
when I} 1 ie think of putting it in practice, I had such a
terror upon my spirits at the remembrance of the danger I had
been in, that I Be ald not think of it again with any patience;
but, on the contrary, I took up another resolution, which was
more safe, though more laborious; and this was, that 1 would114 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

build, or rather make me another periagua or canoe; and so
have one for one side of the island, and one for the other.

You are to understand, that now I had, as I may call it,
two plantations in the island; one, my little fortification or
tent, with the wall about it, under the rock, with the cave be-
hind me, which, by this time, I had enlarged into several
apartments or caves, one within another. One of these, which
was the driest and largest, and had a door out beyond my wall
or fortification, that is to say, beyond where my wall joined to
the rock, was all filled up with the large earthen pots, of which
f have given an account, and with fourteen or fifteen great
baskets, which would hold five or six bushels each, where lL
laid up my stores of provision, especially my corn, some in the
ear, cut off short from the straw, and the other rubbed out
with my hand. :

As for my wall, made, as before, with long stakes or piles,
those piles grew all like trees, and were by this time grown
so big, and spread so very much, that there was not the least
appearance, to any one’s view, of any habitation behind them.

Near this dwelling of mine, but a little farther within the
land, and upon lower ground, lay my two pieces of corn land,
which I kept duly cultivated and cewek and which duly
yielded me their harvest in its season; and whenever I had
occasion for more corn, I had more land adjoining as fit as that.

Besides this, I had my country-seat; and I had now a tol-
erable plantation there also; for, first, | had my little bower,
as I called-it, which I kept in repair; that is to say, I kept
the hedge which encircled it in, constantly fitted up to its
usual height, the ladder standing always in the inside: I kept
the trees, which at first were no more than my stakes, but
were now grown very firm and tall, always cut so, that they
might spread and grow thick and wild, and make the more
agreeable shade ; which they did effectually to my mind. In
the middle of this I had my tent always standing, being a piece
of a sail spread over poles, set up for that purpose, and which
uever wanted any repair or renewing; and under this I had
made me a squab or couch, with the skins of the creatures I
had killed, and with other soft things; and a blanket laid on
them, such as belonged to our sea-bedding, which I had saved
and a great watch-coat to cover me; and here, whenever I
had occasion to be absent from my chief seat, I took up my
country habitation.

Adjoining to this I had my inclosures for my cattle, that is
to say, my goats; and as I had taken an inconceivable deal
of pains to fence and inclose this ground, I was so anxious to
see it kept entire, lest the goats should break through, that 1
never left off, till, with infinite labor, I had stuck the outside
of the hedge so full of small stakes, and so near to one another,
that it was rather a pale than a hedge, and there was scarceROBINSON CRUSOE. 115

room to put a hand through between them; which afterwards,
when those stakes grew, as they all did in the next rainy sea-
son, made the inclosure strong like a wall,—indeed, stronger
than any wall.

This will testify for me that I was not idle, and that I spared
no pains to bring to pass whatever appeared necessary for my
comfortable support; for I considered the kee ing up a breed
of tame creatures thus at my hand would be a iving magazine
of flesh, milk, butter, and cheese for me as long as I lived in
the place, if it were to be forty years; and that keeping them
In my reach depended entirely upon my perfecting my in-
closures to such a degree, that I might be sure of keeping
them together ; which, by this method, indeed, I so effectually
secured, that when these little stakes began to grow, I had
planted them so very thick, that I was forced to pull some of
them up again.

In this place also [ had my grapes growing, which I prin-
cipally depended on for my winter store of raisins, and which
I never failed to preserve very carefully, as the best and most
agreeable dainty of my whole diet; and indeed they were not
only agreeable but medicinal, wholesome, nourishing, and re-
freshing to the last degree.

As this was also about half-way between my other habitation
and the place where I had laid up my boat, I generally staid
and lay here, in my way thither; for I used frequently to visit
my boat; and | kept all things about, or belonging to her, in
very good order: sometimes I went out in her to divert myself;
but no more hazardous voyages would I go, nor scarce ever
above a stone’s cast or two from the shore, I was so apprehen-
sive of being hurried out of my knowledge again by the cur-
rents or winds, or any other accident. But now I come toa
new scene of my life.

It happened one day, about noon, going towards my boat,
1 was exceedingly surprised with the print of a man’s naked
foot on the shore, which was very plain to be seen in the sand.
I stood like one thunderstruck, or as if I had seen an appari-

I listened, I looked round me, but I could hear nothing,
or see any thing: I went up to a rising ground, to look far-
ther ; I went up the shore, and down the shore, but it was all

; I could see no other impression but that one. I went to

ain to see if there were any more, and to observe if it

ight not be my fancy; but there was no room for that, for

e was exactly the print of a foot—toes, heel, and every part

of a foot: how it came thither I knew not, nor could I in the
least imagine; but, after innumerable fluttering thoughts, like
aman perfectly confused and out of myself, [ came home to
my fortification, not feeling, as we say, the ground I went on,
but terrified to the last degree; looking behind me at every
two or three steps, mistaking every bush and tree, and fancy-

ing every stump at a distance tobe aman. Nor is it possibleROBINSON CRUSOE.

  

to describe how many various shapes my affrighted imagi-
nation represented things to me in, how many wild ideas were

i find every moment in my fancy , and what strange, unac-
' ; countable whimseys came into my thoughts by the way.
eee) When I came to my castle (for sol think I called it ever
i after this), I fled into it like one pursued; whether I went over
a by the ladder, as first contrived, or went in at the hole in the
Pe | rock, which I had called a door, I cannot remember; no, nor
He could I remember the next morning ; for never frightened hare
i a fled to cover, or fox to earth, with more terror of ‘mind than I (
: to this retreat. %
' [ slept none that night; the farther I was from the occasion
' of my fright, the greater my apprehensions were; which is

something contrary to the nature of such things, ‘and espe

cially to the usual practice of all creatures in fear; but I wa:

so embarrassed with my own frightful ideas of the thing, that I

formed nothing but dismal 1 imaginations to myself, even tl houg a

I was now a great way off it. “Sometimes I fancied it 1 must
‘ i the devil; and reason joined i in with me upon this sup enon
re for how should any other thing in human shape come into the %
‘pi fl place? Where was the vessel that brought them? What
ie marks were there of any other footsteps? And how was it
HY nossible aman should come there? But then to think that
atan should take human shape upon him in such a place,ROBINSON CRUSOE. L17

where there could be no manner of occasion for it, but to leave
the print of his foot behind him, and that even for no purpose
too, for he could not be sure I should see it,—this was an
amusement the other way. I considered that the devil might
have found out abundance of other ways to have terrified me
than this of the single print of a foot; that as I lived quite on
the other side of the island, he would never have been so simple
as to leave a mark in a place where it was ten thousand to one
whether I should ever see it or not, and in the sand too, which
the first surge of the sea, upon a high wind, would have de-
faced entirely : all this seemed inconsistent with the thing it-
self, and with all the notions we usually entertain of the subtilty
of the devil.

Abundance of such things as these assisted to argue me out
of all apprehensions of it’s being the devil; and presently
concluded, then, that it must be some more dangerous creature,
viz. that it must be some of the savages of the main land over
against me, who had wandered out to sea in their canoes, and,
either driven by the currents, or by contrary winds, had made
the island, and had been on shore, but were gone away again
to sea; being as loath, perhaps, to have staid in this desolate
island as I would have been to have had them.

While these reflections were rolling upon my mind, I was
very thankful in my thoughts that I was so happy as not to be
thereabouts at that time, or that they did not see my boat, by
which they would have concluded that some inhabitants had
been in the place, and perhaps have searched farther for me ;
then terrible thoughts racked my imagination about. their
having found my boat, and that there were people here; and
that if so, I should certainly have them come again in greater
numbers, and devour me; that if it should happen so that they
should not find me, yet they would find my inclosure, destroy
all my corn, and carry away all my flock of tame goats, and |
should perish at last for mere want.

Thus my fear banished all my religious hope, all that for-

confidence in God, which was founded upon such wonder-
ful experience as I had had of his goodness, as if he that had
fed me by miracle hitherto could not preserve, by his power,
the provision which he had made’ for me by his goodness.
reproached myself with my laziness, that would not sow any
more corn one year than would just serve me till the next sea-
son, as if no accident would intervene to prevent my enjoying
the crop that was upon the ground; and this I thought so just
a reproof, that I resolved for the future to have two or three
years’ corn beforehand ; so that whatever might come, I might
not perish for want of bread. a

How strange a checker-work of Providence is the life of
man! and by what secret different springs are the affections
hurried about, as different circumstances present! To-day
we love what to-morrow we hate; to-day we seek what to-118 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

morrow we shun; to-day we desire what to-morrow we fear,
nay, even tremble at the apprehensions of; this was exempli-
fied in me, at this time, in the most lively manner imaginable ;
for I, whose only affliction was that I seemed banished from
human society, that I was alone, circumscribed by the bound-
less ocean, cut off from mankind, and condemned to what I
called silent life; that I was as one whom Heaven thought not
worthy to be numbered among the living, or to appear among
the rest of his creatures; that to have seen one of my own
species would have seemed to me a raising me from death ta
life, and the greatest blessing that Heaven itself, next to the
supreme blessing of salvation, could bestow; I say, that
should now tremble at the very apprehensions of seeing a man,
and was ready to sink into the ground at but the shadow or
silent appearance of a man’s having set his foot in the island.
Such is the uneven state of human life; and it afforded me
a great many curious speculations afterwards, when I had a
little recovered my first surprise. JI considered that this was
the station of life the infinitely wise and good providence of
God had determined for me; that as I could not foresee what
the ends of divine wisdom might be in all this, so I was not to
dispute his sovereignty, who, as I was his creature, had an
undoubted right, by creation, to govern and dispose of me ab-
solutely as he thought fit; and who, as I was a creature that
had offended him, had likewise a judicial right to condemn me
to what punishment he thought fit; and that it was my part
to submit to bear his indignation, because I had sinned against
him. I then reflected, that as God, who was not only righteous,
but omnipotent, had thought fit thus to punish and afflict me,
so he was able to deliver me; that if he did not think fit to do
So, it was my@inquestioned duty to resign myself absolutely
and entirely to his will; and, on the other hand, it was my
duty also to hope in him, pray to him, and quietly to attend
the dictates and directions of his daily providence.
These thoughts took me up many hours, days, nay, I may
‘say, weeks and months; and one particular effect of my cogi-
tations on this occasion I cannot omit: One morning early,
lying in my bed, and filled with thoughts about my danger
from the appearances of savages, I found it discomposed me
very much; upon which these words of the Scripture came
into my thoughts—‘“‘ Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I
will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me.’ Upon this,
rising cheerfully out of my bed, my heart was not only com-
forted, but I was guided and encouraged to pray earnestly to
God for deliverance : when I had done praying, I took up my
Bible, and opening it to read, the first words that presented to
me were— Wait on the Lord, and be of good cheer, and he
shall strengthen thy heart; wait, I say onthe Lord.” Itis im-
possible to express the comfort this gave me. In answer, ]

    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
   
 
 

Aha SA RE

a Sete sate SOOTROBINSON CRUSOE. 119

thankfully laid down the book, and was no more sad, at least,
on that occasion.

In the middle of these cogitations, apprehensions, and re-
flections, it came into my thoughts one day, that all this micht
be a mere chimera of my own, and that this foot might be the
print of my own foot, when I came on shore from my boat:
this cheered me up a little too, and I began to persuade my-
self it was all a delusion; that it was nothing else but my own
foot: and why might I not come that way from the boat, as
well as I was going that way to the boat? Again, I consid-
ered also, that [ could by no means tell, for certain, where I
had trod, and where I had not; and that if, at last, this was
only the print of my own foot, I had played the part of those
fools who try to make stories of spectres and apparitions, and
then are frightened at them more than any body.

Now I began to take courage, and to peep abroad again, for
I had not stirred out of my castle for three days and nights, so
that I began to starve for provisions; for I had little or nothing
within doors but some barley-cakes and water: then I knew
that my goats wanted to be milked too, which usually was my
evening diversion ; and the poor creatures were in great pain
and inconvenience for want of it; and, indeed, it almost spoiled
some of them, and almost dried up their milk. Encouraging
myself, therefore, with the belief that this was nothing but the
print of one of my own feet, and that I might be truly said to
start at my own shadow, I began to go abroad again, and went
to my country-house to milk my flock: but to see with what
fear I went forward, how oftén I looked behind me, how I was
ready, every now and then, to lay down my basket, and run
for my life, it would -have made any one have thought I was
haunted with an evil conscience, or that I had been lately most
terribly frightened; and so, indeed, I had. However, as I
went down thus two or three days, and having seen nothing, I
began to be a little bolder, and to think there was really noth-
ing init but my own imagination: but I could not persuade
myself fully of this till I should go down to the shore again,
and see this print of a foot, and measure it by my own, and
see if there was any similitude or fitness, that I might be as
sured it was my own foot: but when I came to the place, first,
it appeared evidently to me, that when I laid up my boat, I could
not possibly be on shore any where thereabouts: secondly,
when I came to measure the mark with my own foot, I found
my foot not so large by a great deal. Both these things filled
my head with new imaginations, and gave me the vapors
again to the highest degree, so that ip shook with cold like one
in an ague; and I went home again, filled with the belief that
some man or men had been on shore there; or, in short, that
the island was inhabited, and I might be surprised before 1
was aware; and what course to take for my security I
knew not.12 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

O, what ridiculous resolutions men take when possessed with
fear! It deprives them of the use of those means which reason
offers for their relief. The first thing I proposed to myself was,
to throw down my inclosures, and turn all my tame cattle wild
into the woods, lest the enemy should find them, and then fre-
quent the island in prospect of the same or the like booty ; then
to the simple thing of digging up my two cornfields, lest they
should find such a grain there, and still be prompted to fre-
quent the island ; then to demolish my bower and tent, that they
might not see any vestiges of habitation, and. be prompted to
look farther, in order to find out the persons inhabiting.

These were the subject of the first night’s cogitations after ]
was come home again, while the apprehensions which had so
overrun my mind were fresh upon me, and my head was full
of vapors, as above. ‘Thus fear of danger is ten thousand times
maore terrifying than danger itself, when apparent to the eyes;
and we find the burden of anxiety greater, by much, than the
evil which we are anxious about: and, which was worse than
all this, I had not that relief in this trouble, from the resignation
I used to practise, that I hoped to have. I looked, I thought,
hke Saul, who complained not only that the Philistines were
upon him, but that God had forsaken him; for I did not now
take due ways to compose my mind, by crying to God in my
distress, and resting upon his providence, as I had done before
for my defence and deliverance; which, if [ had done, I had
at least been more cheerfully supported under this new sur-
prise, and, perhaps, carried through it with more resolution.

This confusion of my thoughts kept me awake all night ;
but in the morning I fell asleep; and having, by the amuse-
ment of my mind, been, as it were, tired, and my spirits ex-
hausted, I slept very soundly, and waked much better com-
posed than I had ever been before. And now I began to think
sedately; and, upon the utmost debate with myself, I con-
cluded that this island, which was so exceeding pleasant,
fruitful, and no farther from the main land than as L had seen,
was not so entirely abandoned asI might imagine; that al-
though there were no stated inhabitants who lived on the spot,
yet that there might sometimes come boats off from the shore,
who either with design, or perhaps never but when they were
driven by cross winds, might come to this place; that I had
lived here fifteen years now, and had not met with the least
shadow or figure of any people yet; and that if at any time
they should be driven here, it was probable they went away
again as soon as ever they could, seeing they had never
thought fit to fix here upon any occasion; that the most 1
could suggest any danger from) was from any casual, acci-
dental landing of straggling people from the main, who, as it
was likely, if they were driven hither, were here against their
wills, so they made no stay here, but went off again with allROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

121

possible speed; seldom staying one night on shore, lest they
should not have the help of the tides and daylight back again ;
and that, therefore, I had nothing to do but to consider of
some safe retreat, in case [ should see any savages land upon
the spot.

Now I began sorely to repent that I had dug my cave se
large as to bring a door through again, which door, as I said,
eame out beyond where my fortification joined to the rock:
upon maturely considering this, therefore, I resoived to draw
me a second fortification, in the same manner of a semicircle.
at a distance from my wall, just where I had plinted a double
row of trees about twelve years before, of which [ made men-
elon: these trees having been planted so thick before, they
wanted but few piles to be driven between them, that they
might be thicker and stronger, and my wail would be soon
finished ; so that I_had now a double wall; and my ouier wall
was thickened with pieces of timber, old cables, and every
thing I could think of, to make it strong; having in it seven
little holes, about as big as I might put my arm out at. In the
inside of this, I thickened my wall to about ten feet thick,
with continually bringing earth out of my cave, and laying it
at the foot of the wall, and walking upon it; and through the
seven holes I contrived to plant the muskets, of which | took
notice that I had got seven on shore out of the ship; these I
planted like my cannon, and fitted them into frames, that held
them like a carriage, so that I could fire all the seven guns in
two minutes’ time: this wall I was many a weary month in
finishing, and yet never thought myself safe till it was done.

When this was done, I stuck all the ground without my
wall, for a great length every way, as full with stakes, or sticks,
of the osier-like wood, which I found so apt to grow, as they
could well stand; insomuch that I believe I might set in near
twenty thousand of them, leaving a pretty large space between
them and my wall, that I might have room to see an enemy,
and they might have no shelter from the young trees, if they
attempted to approach my outer wall.

Thus, in two years’ time, I had a thick grove; and in five
or six years’ time I had a wood before my dwelling, growing
so monstrous thick and strong, that it was indeed perfectly
impassable; and no men of what kind soever would ever im-
agine that there was any thing beyond it, much less a habita-
tion. As for the way which I proposed to myself to go in
and out (for I left no avenue), it was by setting two ladders,
one to a part of the rock which was low, and then broke in,
and left room to place another ladder upon that; so when the
two ladders were taken down, no.-man living could come down
to me without doing himself mischief; aad if they had come
down, they were still on the outside of my outer wall.

Thus { took all the measures human prudence could sug-

6192 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

gest for my own preservation; and it will be seen, at lengths
that they were not altogether without just reason; though I
foresaw uothing at that time more than my mere fear sug-
gested to me,

While this was doing, | was not altogether careless of my
other affairs; for I had a great concern upon me for my little
herd of goats; they were not only a reddy supply to me on
every occasion, and began to be sufficient for me, without the
expense of powder and shot, but also without the fatigue of
hunting after the wild ones; and [ was loath to lose the ad-
vantage of them, and to have them all to nurse up over again.

For this purpose, after long consideration, I could think of
but two ways to preserve them: one was, to find another
convenient place to dig a cave under ground, and to drive
them into it every night; and the other was, to inclose two or
three little bits of land, remote from one another, and as much
concealed as I could, where I might keep about half a dozen
young goats in each place; so that if any disaster happened
to the flock in senera: I might be able to raise them again
with little trouble and time; and this, though it would require
a great deal of time and labor, I thought was the most rational
design.

Accordingly I spent some time to find out the most retired
parts of the ela and [ pitched upon one, which was as

rivate, indeed, as my heart could wish for: it was a little,
eran piece of ground, in the middle of the hollow and thick
woods, where, as is observed, f almost lost myself ance before,
endeavoring to come back that way from the eastern part of
the island. Here I found a clear piece of land, near three
acres, so surrounded with woods, that it was almost an inclo-
sure by nature; at least, it did not want near so much labor
to make it so as the other pieces of ground I had worked so
hard at.

I immediately went to work with this piece of ground, and
im less than a month’s time I had so fenced it round, that my
flock, or herd,—call it which you please,—who were not so wild
now as at first they might be supposed to be, were well enough
secured in it: so, without any further delay, | removed ten
young she-goats and two he-goats to this piece; and when
they were there, I continued to perfect the fence, till I
had made it as secure as the other; which, however, I did
at more leisure, and it took me up more time by a great
deal. All this labor I was at the expense of, purely from my
apprehensions on the account of the print of a man’s foot which
i had seen; for, as yet, I never saw any human creature come
near the island ; and | had now lived two years under this un-
easiness, which, indeed, made my life much less comfortable
than it was before, as may be well imagined by any who know
what it is to live in the constant snare of the fear of man. AndROBINSON CRUSOE. 123

this [ must observe, with grief too, that the discomposure of
my mind had too great impressions also upon the religious
part of my thoughts; for the dread and terror of falling into

the hands of savages and cannibals lay so upon my spirits,
that I seldom found myself in a due temper for application to
my Maker, at least not with the sedate calmness and resigna-
tions of soul which I was wont to do: I rather prayed to God
as under great affliction and pressure of mind, surrounded
with danger, and in expectation every night of being mur-
dered and devoured before morning ; and { must testify from
my experience, that a temper of peace, thankfulness, love and
affection is much the more proper frame for prayer than that
of terror and discomposure ; and that under the dread of mis-
chief impending, a man is no more fit for a comforting per-
formance of the duty of praying to God, than he is for a re-
pentance on a sick bed; for these discomposures affect the
mind as the others do the body ; and the discomposure of the
mind must necessarily be as great a disability as that of the
body, and much greater; praying to God being properly an
act of the mind, not of the body.

But to goon: after I had thus secured one part of my little
living stock, I went about the whole island, searching for

another private place to make such another Epes when,

wandering more to the west point of the island than I had
ever done yet, and looking out to sea, I thought I saw a boat
upon the sea at a great distance. I had found a perspective.
glass or two in one of the seamen’s chests, which I saved out
of our ship, but I had it not about me: and this was so remote,
that I could not tell what to make of it, though I looked at it
till my eyes were not able to hold to look any longer: whether
it was a boat or not, I do not know, but as I descended from
the hill I could see no more of it; so I gave it over; only I re-
solved to go no more out without a perspective-glass in my
pocket. When I was come down the hill to the end of the
island, where, indeed, I had never been before, I was presently
convinced that the seeing the print of a man’s foot was not
such a strange thing in the island as | imagined; and, but
that it was a special providence that 1 was cast upon the side
of the island where the savages never came, | should easily
have known that nothing was more frequent than for the canoes
from the main, when they happened to be a little too far out
at sea, to shoot over to that side of the island for harbor ; like-
wise, as they often met and fought in their canoes, the victors,
having taken any prisoners, would bring them over to this
shore, where, according to their dreadful customs, being all
cannibals, they would kill and eat them; of which hereafter.
When I was come down the hill to the shore, as I said
above, being the S. W. point of the island, I was perfectly con-
founded and amazed ; nor is it possible for me to express the
horror of my mind, at seeing the shore spread with skulls,124 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

hands, feet, and other bones of human bodies; and particu
larly, 1 observed a place where there had been a fire made,
and a circle dug in the earth, like a cock-pit, where | sup-
nosed the savage wretches had sat down to their inhuman
feastings upon the bodies of their fellow-creatures.

T was so astonished with the sight of these things, that I en-
tertained no notions of any danger to myself from it for a long
while: all my apprehensions were buried in the thoughts of
such a pitch of inhuman, hellish brutality, and the horror of
the degeneracy of human nature, which, though I had heard
of it often, yet I never had so near a view of before: in short,
I turned away my face from the horrid spectacle ; my stomach
grew sick, and I was just at the point of fainting, when nature
discharged the disorder from my stomach ; and having vomit-
ed with uncommon violence, I was a little relieved, but could
not bear to stay in the place a moment; so I got me up the
hill again with all the speed I could, and walked on towards
my own habitation.

When I came a little out of that part of the island, I stood
still awhile, as amazed, and then, recovering myself, I looked
up with the utmost affection of my soul, and, with a flood of
tears in my eyes, gave God thanks, that had cast my first lot
in a part of the world where I was distinguished from such
dreadful creatures as these; and that, though I had esteemed
my present condition very ‘miserable, had yet given me so
many comforts in it, that I had still more to gave thanks for
than to complain of; and this, above all, that I had, even in
this miserable condition, been comforted with the knowledge
of Himself, and the hope of His blessing; which was a felicity
more than sufficiently equivalent to all the misery which I had
suffered, or could suffer.

in this frame of thankfulness, | went home to my castle, and
bean to be much easier now, as to the safety of my circum-
stances, than ever I was before; for I observed that these
wretches never came to this island in search of what they could
eet; perhaps not seeking, not wanting, or not expecting, any
thing here; and having often, no doubt, been up in the cov-
ered, woody part of it, without finding any thing to their pur-
pose. 1 knew I had been here now almost eighteen years, and
never saw the least footsteps of human creature there before ;
and I might be eighteen years more as entirely concealed as
I was now, if I did not discover myself to them, which I had
no manner of occasion to do; it being my only business to
keep myself entirely concealed where I was, unless I found a
better sort of creatures than cannibals to make myself known
to. Yet I entertained such an abhorrence of the savage

wretches that | have been speaking of, and of the wretched,
inhuman custom of their devouring and eating one another up,
that I continued pensive and sad, and kept close within myROBINSGN CRUSOE. 195

most -two years after this: when I say my
own chi mn by it my three plantations, viz. my cast
my country-seat, which I called my b
in the \ : after this for any other use th:
as an inclosu goats; for the aversion which n
gave me wretches was such, that I
fearful of seeing them as of seeing the devil himself.
not so much as g¢ ok after my boat all this time, but be-
gan.rather to think of making me another; for I could not
think of ever making any more attempts to bring the other
boat round the island to me, lest [ should meet with some of
these creatures at sea; in which, if I had happened to have
fallen into their hands, I knew what would have been my lot.

Time, however, and the satisfaction I had that I was in no
danger of being discovered by these people, began to wear off
my uneasiness about them; and I began to live just in the
same composed manner as before; only with this difference,
that I used more caution, and kept my eyes more about me,
than | did before, lest I should happen to be seen by any of
them; and particularly, I was more cautious of firmg my gun,
lest any of them, being on the island, should happen to hear it.
It was therefore a very good providence to me that I had fur-
nished myself with a tame breed of goats, and that I had no
need to hunt any more about the woods, or shoot at them;
and if I did catch any of them after this, it was by traps and
snares, as I had done before; so that for two years after this,
I believe I never fired my gun once off, though I never went
out without it; and, which was more. as I had saved three
pistols out of the ship, I always carried them out with me, or
at least two of them, sticking them in my goat-skin belt. I
also furbished up one of the great cutlasses that I had out of
the ship, and made me a belt to hang it on also; so that I was
now a most formidable fellow to look at, when I went abroad,
if you add to the former description of myself, the particular
of two pistols, and a great broadsword hanging at my side in
a belt, but without a scabbard.

Things going on thus, as I have said, for some time, I
seemed, excepting these cautions, to be reduced to my former
calm, sedate way of living. All these things tended to show me,
more and more, how far my condition was from being miser-
able, compared to some others; nay, to many other partic-
ulars of life, which it might have pleased God to have made my
lot. It put me upon reflecting how little repining there would
be among mankind at any condition of life, if people would
rather compare their condition with those that were worse, in
order to be thankful, than be always comparing them with
those which are better, to st thelr murmuring and com-
plainings. a

As, in my present condition, there were notreally many thingsROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

126

which I wanted, so, indeed, I thought that the frights I had
been in about these savage wretches, and the concern I had
been in for my own preservation, had taken off the edge of my
invention for my own conveniences; and I had dro pped a good
de sign, which I had on¢e bent my ‘thoughts too nih upon;
and that was, to try if I could not make some of my barley
into malt, and then try to brew myself some beer. This was
really a whimsical thought, and I reproved myself often for
the simplicity of it; for I presently saw there would be the
want of several things necessary to the making my beer, that
it would be impossible for me to supply; as, first, casks to
preserve it in, which was a thing that, as I have observed al-
ready, I could never compass; no, though I spent not only
many "di 1ys, but weeks, nay, months, i in attempting it, but to
no pur} pose. In the next place, I had no hops to make it keep,
no yeast to make it work, no copper or kettle to make it boil ;
and yet, with all these things wanting, I verily believe, had
not the friehts and terrors I was in about the savages inter-
vened, I had undertaken it, and perhaps brought it to pass
too; for 1 seldom gave any thing over without accomplishing
it, when once I had it in my hes id to begin it. But my inven-
tion now ran quite another way; for, night and day, I could
think of nothing but how I hehe destroy some of these mon-
sters in their cruel, bloody entertainment, and, if possible, save
the victim they should bring hither to destroy, ki would take
up a larger volume than this whole work is intended to be, to
set down all the contrivances I hatched, or rather brooded
upon, in my thoughts, for the destroying these crea tures, or
at least frig htening them so as to prevent their coming hither
any more ; but all this was abortive ; nothing could be possible
to take effect, unless I was to be there to do it anaes and
what could one man do among them, when perhaps there
might be twenty or thirty of them together, with their darts,
or their bows and arrows, with which they could shoot as true
to a mark as I could with my gun? q

Sometimes I thought of digging a hole under the place
where they made their fire, “and putting in five or six
pounds of gunpowder, which, when they kindled their
fire, would consequently t take fire, and blow up all that was
near it; but as, in the first place, I should be unwilling to
waste so much powder upon them, my store being now w ithin
the quantity of one barrel, so neither could I be sure of its
going off at any certain time, when it might surprise them;
and, at best, that it would do little more than just blow the fire
about their ears, and fright them, but not sufficient to make
them forsake the place: so I laid it aside ; and then proposed
that 1 would place myself in ambush in some convenient
place, with my three guns all double loaded, and in the middle
of their bloody ceremony, let fly at them, ‘when I should be
sure to kill or wound perhaps two or three at every shot; andROBINSON CRUSOE. 127

then falling in upon them with my three pistols, and my sword,
4 made no doubt but that if there were twenty I should kill
them all. This fancy pleased my thoughts for some weeks;
and I was so full of it, that I often dreamed of it, and some-
ames that I was just going to let fly at them in my sleep. I
went so far with it in my imagination, that I employed myself
several days to find out proper places to put myself in ambus-
cade, as I said, to watch for them; and I went frequently te
the place itself, which was now grown more famil_ar to me:
but while my mind was thus filled with thoughts of revenge,
and a bloody putting twenty or thirty of them to the sword, as
i may call it, the horror [ had at the place, and at the signals
of the barbarous wretches devouring one another, abetted my
malice. Well, at length, [ found a place in the side of the
hill, where I was satisfied I might securely wait till I saw any
of their boats coming ; and might then, even before they would
be ready te come on shore, convey myself, unseen, into some

ckets of trees, im one of which there was a hollow large
enough te cenceal me entirely; and there I might sit and ob-
serve all their bloody doings, and take my full aim at.their
heads, when they were so close together as that it would be
next to impossible that J should miss my shot, or that I could
fail wounding three or four of them at the first shot. In this
place, then, I resolved to fix my design; and, accordingly, 1
prepared two muskets and my ordinary fowling-piece. The
two muskets [ loaded with a brace of slugs each, and four or
five smaller bullets, about the size of pistol-bullets; and the
fowling-piece I loaded with near a handful of swan-shot, of
the largest size: I also loaded my pistols with about four bul-
lets each; and in this posture, well provided with ammunition
for a second and third charge, I prepared myself for my ex-
pedition.

After I had thus laid the scheme of my design, and, in my
imagination} put if im practice, I continually made my tour
every morning up to the tep of the hill, which was from my
castle, as I called it, about three miles, or more, to see if [
could observe any boats upon the sea, coming near the island,
or standing over towards it; but I began to tire of this hard
duty, after I had, for two or three months, constantly kept my
watch, but came always back without any discovery; there
having not, in all that time, been the least appearance, not
only on or near the shore, but on the whole ocean, so far as
my eyes or glasses could reach every way. _

As long asI kept my daily tour to the hill to look out, so
long also I kept up the vigor of my design, and my spirits
seemed to be all the while in a suitable form for so outrggeous
an execution as the killing twenty or thirty naked savages, for
an offence which I had not at all entered into a discussion of
in my thoughts, any further than my passions were at firstgilli was aes

128 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
fired by the horror I conceived at the unnatural custom of the
people of that country ; who, it seems, had been suffered by
Providence, in his wise disposition of the world, to have no
other guide than that of their own abominable and vitiated
passions; and, consequently, were left, and perhaps had been
so for some ages, to act such horrid things, and receive such
dreadful customs, as nothing but nature, entirely abandoned
by Heaven, and actuated by some hellish degeneracy, could
have run them into. But now, when, as I have said, I began
to be weary of the fruitless excursion which I had made so
long and so far every morning in vain, so my opinion of the
action itself began to alter; and I began, with cooler and
calmer thoughts, to consider what I was going to engage in;
what authority or call I had to pretend to be judge and execu-
tioner upon these men as criminals, whom Heaven had thought
fit, for so many ages, to suffer, unpunished, to go on, and to
be, as it were, the executioners of his judgments one upon
another. How far these people were offenders against me,
and what right [had to engage in the quarrel of that blood
which they shed promiscuously upon one another, I debated
this very often with myself, thus: How do I know what God
himself judges in this particular case? It is certain these peo-
ple do not commit this as a crime; it is not against their own
consciences reproving, or their light reproaching them; they
do not know it to be an offence, and then commit it in defiance
of divine justice, as we do in almost all the sins we commit.
They think it no more a crime to kill a captive taken in war,
than we do to kill an ox; nor to eat human flesh, than we do to
eat mutton.

When I considered this a little, it followed necessarily that
{ was certainly in the wrong in it; that these yeople were not
murderers in the sense that I had before acvtienaned them in
my thoughts, any more than those Christians were murderers
who often put to death the prisoners taken in battle: or more
frequently, upon many occasions, put whole troops of men to
the sword, without giving quarter, though they threw down
their arms and submitted. In the next place, it occurred ta
me, that although the usage they gave one another was thus
brutish and inhuman, yet it was really nothing to me: these
veople had done me no injury : that if they attempted me, or
i saw it necessary, for my immediate preservation, to fall upon
them, something might be said for it; but that I was yet out
of their power, and they really had no knowledge of me, and’
consequently no design upon me, and therefore it could not
be Just for me to fall upon them: that this would justify the
conduct of the Spaniards in all their barbarities: practised in
America, where they destroyed millions of these people; who
however they were idolaters and barbari é |

lans, and had several
bloody and barbarous rites in their customs, such as sacrisROBINSON CRUSOE. 199
2

oe panes bodies to their idols, were yet, as to the Span-
tards, very Innocent people ; and that the rooting them out of
the country is spoken of with the utmost abhorrence and de-
testation by even the Spaniards themselves at this time, and

y all other Christian nations in Kurope, as a mere butchery,
2. bloody and unnatural piece of cruelty, unjustifiable either to

1 or man ; and for which the very name of a Spaniard is

‘koned to be frightful and terrible to all people of humanity,

f Christian compassion; as if the kingdom of Spain were

particularly eminent for the produce of a race of men who

were without principles of tenderness, or the common bowels

of pity to the miserable, which is reckoned to be a mark of
enerous temper in the mind.

These considerations really put me to a pause, and to a
kind of a full stop; and I began, by little and little, to be off
my design, and to conclude I had taken wrong measures in
my resolution to attack the savages; and that it was not my
business to meddle with them, unless they first attacked me;
and this it was my business, if possible, to prevent; but that
if | were discovered and attacked by them, I knew my duty.
On the other hand, I argued with myself, that this really was

he way not to deliver myself, but entirely to ruin and destroy
myself; for unless I was sure to kill every one that not only
should be on shore at that time, but that should ever come on
shore afterwards, if but one of them escaped to tell their

eople what had happened, they would come over
yy thousands to revenge the death of their fellows, and
I should only bring upon myself a certain destruction, which,
at present, { had no manner of occasion for. Upon the whole,
I concluded, that neither in principle nor in policy, I ought,
» way or other, to concern myself in this affair; that my
business was, by all possible means, to conceal m alf from
them, and not to leave the least signal to them to guess by that
there were any living creatures upon the island, | mean of
human shape. Religion joined in with this prudential resolu-
tion; and | was convinced now, many ways, that I was per-
fectly out of my duty when I was laying all my bloody schemes
for the destruction of innocent creatures, I mean innocent as to
me. As to the crimes they were guilty of towards one another,
L had nothing to do with them; they were national, and I
ought to leave them to the justice of God, who is the governor _
of nations, and knows how, by national punishments, to make
a just retribution for national offences, and to bring public
iudzments upon those who offend in a p ublic manner, by such
ways as best please him. This appeared so clear to me now,
that nothing was a greater satisfaction to me than that I had
not been suffered to do a thing which I now saw so much
reason to believe would have been no less a sin than that of
wilful murder, if I had committed it; and I gave most humble
thanks on my knees to God, that had thus delivered me from130 ROBINSON CRUSOR.

blood-guiltiness; beseeching him to grant me the protection
of his providence, that I might not fall into the hands of the
barbarians, or that I might not lay my hands upon them, une
less I had a more clear call from Heaven to do it, in defence
of my own life. ; i Sane
In this disposition I continued for near a year after this;
and so far was I from desiring an occasion for falling upor
these wretches, that in all that time I never once went up the
hill, to see whether there were any of them insight, or to OW
whether any of them had been on shore there or not, that |
might not be tempted to renew any of my contrivances against
them, or be provoked, by any advantage which might present
ttself, to fall upon them: only this I did, I went and remove
my boat, which I had on the other side of the island, and car-
ried it down to the east end of the whole island, where I ran it
into a little cove, which I found under some high rocks, and
where [ knew, by reason of the currents, the savages durst not,
at least would not come, with their boats, upon any account
whatever. With my boat I carried away every thing that I
had left there belonging to her, though not necessary for the
bare going thither, viz. a mast and sail which I had made for
her, and a thing like an anchor, but which, indeed, could not
be called either anchor or grapnel ; however, it was the best I
could make of its kind: all these I removed, that there might
not be the least shadow of any discovery, or any appearance
of any boat, or of any human habitation, upon the island.
Besides this, I kept myself, as I said, more retired than ever,
and seldom went from my cell, other than upon my constant
employment, viz. to milk my she-goats, and manage my little
flock in the wood, which, as it was quite on the other part of
the island, was quite out of danger; for certain it is, that these
Savage people, who sometimes haunted this island, never came
with any thoughts of finding any thing here, and consequently
never wandered off from the coast; and I doubt not but they
might have been several times on shore after my apprehensions
of them had made me cautious, as well as before. Indeed, I
looked back with some horror upon the thoughts of what my con-
dition would have been if I had chopped upon them and been
discovered before that, when, naked and unarmed, exce pt with
one gun, and that loaded often only with small shot, I walked
every where, peeping and peering about the island to see what
I could get: what a surprise should I have been in, if, when I
discovered the print of a man’s foot, I had, instead of that,
seen fifteen or twenty savages, and found them pursuing me,
and by the swiftness of their running, no possibility of my es-
caping them! The thoughts of this sometimes sunk my very
soul within me, and distressed my mind so much, that I could
not soon recover it, to think what I should have done, and how
I should not only have been unable to resist them, but evenROBINSON CRUSOE. 131

should not have had presence of mind enough to do what I
might have done; much less what now, after so much consid-
eration and preparation, I might be able to do. Indeed, after
serious thinking of these things, I would be very melancholy,
and sometimes 1t would last a great while ; but I resolved it all,
at last, into thankfulness to that Providence which had deliv-
ered me from so many unseen dangers, and had kept from me
those mischiefs which I could have no way been the agent in
delivering myself from, because I had not the least notion of
any such thing depending least supposition of its being
possible. ‘his renewed a contemplation which often had
come to my thoughts in former time, when first I began to see
che merciful dispositions of Heaven, in the dangers we run
; how wenderfully we are delivered when
we know nothing of it; how, when we are in a quandary
fas we call it), a doubt or hesitation, whether to go this way,
or that way, a secret hint shall direct us this way, when we
intended to go that way; nay, when sense, our own inclina-
tion, and perhaps business, has called to go the other way, yet
a strange impressien upon the mind, from we know not what
springs, and by we know net what pewer, shall overrule us
to go this way; and it shall afterwards appear, that had we
gone that way which we uid have gone, and even to our
imagination ought to have gene, we should have been ruined
and lost. Upon these and many like reflections, I afterwards
made it a certain rule with me, that whenever 1 found
those secret hints or pressings of mind, to doing or not
doing any thing that presented, or going this way or that
way, I never failed to obey the secret dictate; though I knew
no other reason for it than that such a pressure, or such a
hint, hung upon my mind. I could give many examples
of the success of this conduct in the course of my life, but
more especially in the latter part of my inhabiting this un-
happy island; besides many eccasions which it is very like-
ly [ might have taken notice of, if I had seen with the same
eyes then that I see with now. But it is never too late to be
wise; and 1 cannot but advise all considering men, whose
lives are attended with such extraordinary incidents as mine,
or even though not so extraordinary, net to slight such secret
intimations of Providence, let them ceme from what invisible
intelligence they will. That I shall not discuss, and perhaps
cannot acceunt for; but certainly they are a proof of the con
verse of spirits, and a secret communication between those
ambodied and these unimbodied, and such a proof as can
never be withsteod; of which I shali have occasion to give
some very remarkable instances in the rerpainder of my soli-
tary residence in this dismal place. Neus
yelieve the reader of this will not think it strange if I con-
fess that these anxieties, these constant dangers I lived in, and132 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

the concern that was now upon me, put an end to ail inven-
tion, and to all the contrivances that 1 had laid for my future
accommodations and conveniences. I had the care of my
safety more now upon my hands than that of my food. £
cared not to drive a nail or chop a stick of wood now, for fear
the noise I might make should be heard; much less would i
fire a gun, for the same reason ; and, above all, I was mtoler-
ably uneasy at making any fire, lest the smoke, which is visible
ata great distance m the day, should betray me. For this
reason I removed that part of my business which required fire
such as burning of pots and pipes, &c., into my new apart
ment in the woods; where, after | had been some ve
found, to my unspeakable consolation, a mere natura
the earth, which went in a vast way, and where,
no savage, had he been at the mouth of it, would be s«
as to venture in; nor, indeed, would any man else, but one
who, like me, wanted nothing so much as a safe retreat.

The mouth of this hollow was at the bottom of a great rock,
where, by mere accident (I would say, if I did not see abun-
dant reason to ascribe all such things now to Providence), I
was cutting down some thick branches of trees to make char-
coal; and before I go on, I must observe the reason of my
making this charcoal, which was thus: I was afraid of making
a smoke about my habitation, as I said before; and yet! could
not live there without baking my bread, cooking my meat,
&e.; SO 4 contrived to burn some wood here, as I had seen
done in England, under turf, till it became chark, or dry coal;
and then putting the fire out, I preserved the coal to carry
home, and perform the other services for which fire was want
ing, without danger of smoke. But this is by the by.—While
I was cutting down some wood here, I perceived that behind
avery thick branch of low brushwood, or underwood there
was a kind of hollow place: I was curious to look in it, and,
getting with difficulty into the mouth of it, I found it was
pretty large; that is to say, sufficient for me to stand upright
in it, and perhaps another with me; but I must confess to
you that | made more haste out than I did in, when looking
farther into the place, and which was perfectly dark, | saw
two broad, shining eyes of some creature, whether devil ‘or man
I knew not, which twinkled like two stars; the dim light from
the cave’s mouth shining directly in, and making the reflec-
tion. However, after some pause, I recovered myself, and
began to call myself a thousand fools, and to think that he
that was afraid to-see the devil was not fit to live twenty years
in an island all alone; and that I might well think there was
nothing in this cave that was more frightful than myself. Upon
this, plucking up my courage, I took up a firebrand, and in |
rushed again, with the stick flaming in my hand: £ had not
gone three steps in, but I was almost as much friehtened as |
was before; for I heard a very loud sigh, like that of a man in

 

+
t
tROBINSON CRUSOR. Tae

some pain, and it was followed by a broken noise, as of words
half expressed, and then a deep sigh again. I stepped back,
and was indeed struck with such a surprise, that it put me
ae a cold sweat; and if I had had a hat on my head, I will

unswer for it, that my hair might not have lifted it off

But eal plucking up my spirits as well as I could, and en-
cour aging myself a little with considering that the power and
presence “of God was every where, and was able to protect me,
upon this I stepped forward again, and by the light of the fires
brand, holding it up a little over may head, I saw lying on the
ground a most monstrous, frightful, old he-goat, just making
his will, as we say, and eas sping for life: and P dying, indeed, of
mere old age. I stirred him a little, to see if I could get him
out, and he essayed to get up, but was not able to raise him-
self; and I thought wit th’ myself he might even he there; for
if he had fri ened me, so he would ‘certainly fright any of
the savag oy any one of them should be so hardy as to come

vhile he had any life in him.

I was now recovered from my surprise, and began to look
round Ine when I found the cave was but very small, that is
to say, t might be about twelve feet over, but in no manner

of shines ;, neither round nor square, no hands having ever been
ed in m aking it but those of mere Nature. “T observed
also that there was a place at the fi ihes side of it that went
in further, but was so low that it required me to creep upon
my hands and knees to go into it, and whither it went IT knew
not: so, having no car idle, I pave e it over for a time, but re-
solved to come again the next d ay, provided with candles and
a tinder-| which f had made of the lock of one of the mus-
kets, with some wild-fire in the pan.

Accordingly, the next day I came provided with six large
Ci andles of my own making (for I made very good candles now

pats’ tallow, but was hard set for candle- wick, using some-
times rags or rope-yarn, and sometimes the dried rind of a
weed like nettles); and going into this low place, I was obi eae
to creep upon all fours, as | have said, almost ten yards;
which, by the way, I thought was a venture bold enough, con-
sidering that I knew not how far it might go, nor what was be-
yond it. When I had got through the strait, I found the roof
rose higher up, I believe near twenty feet ; but never was such
a glorious sight seen in the island, 1 dare say, as it was, to look
round the sides and roof of this vault or cave : the wall reflect-
ed a hundred thousand lights to me from my two candles.
What it was in the rock, whether diamonds, or any other

recious stones, or gold, which IT rather supposed it to be, I
ee not. The place I was in was a most delightful cavity
or grotto of its kind, as could be expected, though eee
di ark ; the floor was dry and level, and had a sort of a small
loose gravel upor- it, so that there was no nauseous or venom:es eM

 

 

134 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

ous creature to be seen, neither was there any damp or wet
on the sides or roof: the only difficulty in it was the entrance ;
which, however, as it was a place of security, and such a re- ;
treat as [ wanted, I thought that was a convenience ; SO that I
was really rejoiced at the discovery, and resolved, without any
delay, to bring some of those things which I was most anxious
about to this place; particularly, I resolved to bring hither
my magazine of powder, and all my spare arms, viz. two
fowline-pieces (for I had three in all), and three muskets (for
of them | had eight in all); so I kept at my castle only five,
which stood ready mounted, like pieces of cannon, on my out-
most fence, and were ready also to take out upon any expe-
dition. Upen this occasion of removing my ammunition, 1
happened to open the barrel of powder, which I took up out
of the sea, and which had been wet; and I found that the
water had penetrated about three or four inches into the powder
on every side, which, caking, and growing hard, had preserved
the inside like a kernel in the shell ; so that I had near sixty
pounds of very good powder in the centre of the cask: this

-was a very agreeable discovery to me at that time; so IT car-

ried all away thither, never keeping above two or three pounds
of powder with me in my castle, for fear of a surprise of any
kind: I also carried thither all the lead I had left for bullets.

I fancied myself now like one of the ancient giants, which
were said to live in caves and holes in the rocks, where none
could come at them; for I persuaded myself, while I was here,
that if five hundred savages were to hunt me, they could never
find me out; or, if they did, they would not venture to attack
me here. The old goat, whom I found expiring, died in the
mouth of the cave the next day after I made this discovery:
and I found it much easier to dig a great hole there, and throw
him in and cover him with earth, than to drag him out; so I
interred him there, to prevent offence to my nose.

I was now in the twenty-third year of my residence in this
island; and was so naturalized to the place, and the manner
of living, that could I have but enjoyed the certainty that no
savages would come to the place to disturb me, I could have
been centent to have capitulated for spending the rest of my
time there, even to the last moment, till I had laid me down
and died, like the old goat in the cave. I had also arrived to
some little diversions and amusements, which made the time
pass a great deal more pleasantly with me than it did before :
as, first, 1 had taught my Pol, as I noted before, to speak ; and
he did it so familiarly, and: talked so articulately and plain,
that it was very pleasant to me; for I believe no bine ever
spoke plainer; and he lived with me no less than six-and-
twenty years: how long he might have lived afterwards I know
not, though | know they have a notion in the Brazils that they
live a hundred years. My dog was a very pleasant and lovingROBINSON CRUSOE. 135

companion to me for no less than sixteen years of my time, and
then died of mere old age. As for my cats, they multiplied, as
I have observed, to that degree, that I was obliged to shoot seve-
ral of them at first, to keep them from devouring me and all I
had; but, at length, when the two old ones I brought with me
were gone, and after some time continually driving them from
me, and letting them have ne provision with me, they all ran wild
into the woods, except two or three favorites, which I kept
tame, and whose young, when they had any, I always drown-
ed; and these were part of my family. Besides these, L always
‘kept two or three household kids about me, whom I taught to
feed out of my hand; and I had two more parrots, which
talked pretty well, and would all call Robin Crusce, but none
like my first; nor, indeed, did I take the pains with any of
them that I had done with him. I had also several tame sea-
fowls, whose names I knew not, that I caught upon the shore,
and cut their wings; and the little stakes which I had planted
before my castle wall being now grown up to a good thick
grove, these fowls all lived among these low trees, and bred
there, which was very agreeable to me; so that, as I said
above, f began to be very well contented with the life I led,
if [ could have been secured from the dread of the savages.
But it was otherwise directed; and it may not be amiss for all
people who shall meet with my story, to make this just obser-
vation from it, viz. How frequently, in the course of our lives,
the evil which in itself we seek most to shun, and which, when
we are fallen into, is the most dreadful to us, is oftentimes the
very means or door of our deliverance, by which alone we
can be raised again from the affliction we are fallen into. 4
could give many examples of this in the course of my unac-
countable life; but in nothing was it more particularly re-
markable than in the circumstances of my last years of solitary
residence in this island.

It was now the month of December, as I said above, in my
twenty-third year; and this, being the southern solstice (for
winter I cannot call it), was the particular time of my harvest,
and required my being pretty much abroad in the fields ; when
going out pretty early in the morning, even before it was
thorough daylight, I was surprised with seeing a light of some
fire upon the shore, at a distance from me of about two miles,
towards the end of the island where I had observed some sav-
ages had been, as before, and not on the other side; but to
my great affliction, it was on my side of the island.

I was indeed terribly surprised at the sight, and stopped
short within my grove, not daring to go out, lest I might be
surprised, and yet I had no more peace within, from the ap-
prehensions I had that if these savages, in rambling over the
island, should find my corn standing or cut, or any of my
works and improvements, they would immediately conclude
that there were people in the place, and would then never give> Ra TO Eat «

PN RRR Ate

 

1o6 ROBINSON CRUSOR.

over till they had found me out. In this extremity, I went
back directly to my castle, pulled up the ladder after me, and
made all things without look as wild and natural as I could.
Then I prepared myself within, putting myself in a posture
of defence: I loaded all my cannon, as I called them, that is
to say, my muskets, which were mounted upon my new for-
tification, and all my pistols, and resolved to defend myself te
the last gasp; not forgetting seriously to commend myself to
the divine protection, and earnestly to pray to God to deliver
me out of the hands of the barbarians. I continued in this
posture about two hours; and began to be mighty impatient
for intelligence abroad; for I had no spies to send out. After
sitting awhile longer, and musing what I should do in this, I
was not able to bear sitting in ignorance any longer; so set-
ting up my ladder to the side of the hill, where there was a
flat place, as I observed before, and then pulling the ladder up
after me, I set it up again, and mounted to the top of the hill;
and pulling out my perspective-glass, which I had taken on
purpose, I laid me down flat on my belly on the ground, and
began to look for the place. 1 presently found there were no
less than nine naked savages, sitting round a small fire they had
ide, not to warm them, for they had no need of that, the

weather being extremely hot, but, as I supposed, to dres

' their barbarous diet of human flesh, which they h
h them, whether alive or dead, I could not tell.
y had two canoes with them, which they had hauled up
upon the shore; and as it was then tide of ebb, they seemed
to me to wait for the return of the flood to go away again. It
is not easy to imagine what confusion this sight put me into,
especially seeing them come on my side of the island, and so
near me too; but when I considered their coming must be
always with the current of the ebb, I began, afterwards, to be
more sedate in my mind, being satisfied that I might go abroad
with safety all the time of the tide of flood, if they were not on
shore before ; and having made this observation, I went abroad
about my harvest-work with the more composure.

As I expected, so it proved; for as soon as the tide made to
the westward, I saw them all take boat, and row (or paddle,
as we call it) away. I should have observed, that for an hour
or more before they went off, they went a dancing; and I
could easily discern their postures and gestures by my glass.
I could not perceive, by my nicest observation, but that they
were stark naked, and had not the least covering upon them;
but whether they were men or women, I could not distinguish.

As soon as I saw them shipped and gone, I took two guns
upon my shoulders, and two pistols in my girdle, and my great
sword by my side, without a scabbard, and with all the speed
I was able to make, went away to the hill where I had discov«
ered the first appearance of all; and as soon as I got thither,

Ss
|

1 ¢
LatROBINSON CRUSOE. 137

which was not in less than two hours (for I could not go apace

being so loaden with arms as I was), I perceived there had
been three canoes more of savages at that place; and looking
out farther, I saw they were all at sea together, making over
for the main. This was a dreadful sight to me, especially as,
going down to the shore, I could see the marks of horror,
which the dismal work they had been about had left behind it,
viz. the blood, the bones, and part of the flesh of human bodies,
eaten and devoured by those wretches with merriment and
sport. I was so filled with indignation at the sight, that I now
I n to premeditate the destruction of the next that I saw
there, let them be whom or how many soever. It seemed evi-
dent to me that the visits which they made thus to this island
were not very frequent, for it was above fifteen months before
any more of them came on shore there again; that is to :
I neither saw them, nor any footsteps or signals of them, in all
that time; for, as to the rainy seasons, then they are sure not
to come abroad, at least not so far; yet all this while I lived
uncomfortably, by reason of the constant apprehensions of
their coming upon me by surprise: from whence I observe,
that the expectation of evil is more bitter than the suffering

especially if there is no room to shake off that expectation, or
those apprehensions.

During all this time I was in the murdering humor, and
took up most of my hours, which should have been better em-
ployed, in contriving how to circumvent and fall upon them,
the very next time I should see them; especially if they should
be divided, as they were the last time, ito two parties: nor
did I consider at all, that if I killed one party, suppose ten or
a dozen, I was still, the next day, or week, or month, to kill
another, and so another, even ad infinitum, till I should be at
length no less a murderer than they were in being man-eaters,
and perhaps much more so. I spent my days now in great
perplexity and anxiety of mind, expecting that I should, one
day or other, fall into the hands of these merciless creatures ;
and if I did at any time venture abroad, it was not without
looking round. me with the greatest care and caution imagi-
nable. And now i found, to my great comfort, how happy it
was that I had provided a tame flock or herd of goats; for 1
durst not, upon any account, fire my gun, especially near that
side of the island re they usually came, lest I should alarm
the savages; and if they had fled from me now, I was sure to
have them come again, with perhaps two or three hundred
canoes with them, in a few days, and then I knew what to ex-
pect. However, I wore out a year and three months more be-
fore | ever saw any more of the savages, and then I found them
again, as I shall soon observe. It is true, they might, have
been there once or twice, but either they made no stay, or at
least I did not see them: but in the month of May, as near aseaSaiaaeebesadl

   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
  
  
   
   
   
 
    

138 ROBINSON CRUSOR:

I could calculate, and in my four and twentieth year, I had a
very strange encounter with them; of which in its place.
‘The perturbation of my mind, during this fifteen or sixteen
months’ interval, was very great; I slept unquiet, dreamed
always frightful dreams, and often started out of my sleep in
the night: in the day great troubles overwhelmed my mind;
and in the night, I dreamed often of killing the savages, and
of the reasons why 1 might justify the doing of it. But to
wave all this for a while.—It was in the middle of May, on the
sixteenth day, I think, as well as my poor wooden calendar
would reckon, for I marked all upon the post still; I say, it
was on the sixteenth of May that it blew a very great storm of
L wind all day, with a great deal of lightning and thunder, and
i a very foul night it was after it. I knew not what was the
oe ) particular occasion of it, but as I was reading in the Bible,
and taken up with very serious thoughts about my present
condition, I was surprised with the noise of a gun, as I
thought, fired at sea. This was, to be sure, a surprise quite-
of a different nature from any I had met with before ; for the
notions this put into my thoughts were quite of another kind.
I started up in the greatest haste imaginable, and, in a trice,
clapped my ladder to the middle place of the rock, and pulled
i it after me; and mounting it the second time, got to the top
of the hill the very moment that a flash of fire bid me listen for
i a second gun, which, accordingly, in about half a minute, I
| neard; and, by the sound, knew tnat it was from that part of
Bs the sea where I was driven down the current in my boat. I
immediately considered that this must be some ship in distress,
and that they had Some comrade, or some other ship in com-
yany, and fired these guns for signals of distress, and to obtain
tain. ! had the presence of mind, at that minute, to think,
eI that though t could not help them, it might be they might
help me sol brought together all the dry wood I could get
i at hand, and, making a good, handsome pile, I set it on fire
Nea upon the hill’ ‘Che wood was dry, and blazed freely ; and
a though the wind blew very hard, yet it burnt fairly out, so that
was certain, if there was any such thing as a ship, they must
needs see it, and no doubt they did; for as soon as ever my
fre blazed up | heard another gun, and after that several
others, all from the same quarter. I plied my fire ‘all night
long, till daybreak; and when it was broad day, and the air
cleared up. 1 saw something at a great distance at sea, full
east of the island, whether a sail or a hull I could not distin-
guish, no, not with my glass; the distance was so great, and
re | the weather still something hazy also; at least it was so out
at sea.
_ [looked frequently at it all that day, and soon perceived that
i it did not move so [ presently concluded that it was a ship at
ie anchor; and being eager, you may be sure, to be satisfied, 1
iy ba took my gun in my hand, and ran towards the south side of
£

 

peerage

29S omega age

PRR eR enROBINSON CRUSOE. 139

the island, to the rocks where I had formerly been carried
away with the current; and getting up there, the weather by
this time being. perfectly clear, I could p plainly see, tomy great
sorrow, the w reck of a ship, sast awa y in the night upon t those
concealed rocks which I found when I was out in my boat;

and which rocks, as they checked the violence of the stream,

and made a kind of counter-stream, or eddy, were the occasion
of my recovering from the most desper rate, ‘ho peless condition
that ever I had been i in, all my life. Thus, wee is one man’s
safety is another man’s destruction ; for it seems these men,
whoever they were, being out of their knowledge, and the
rocks being wholly ‘under - water, had been driven upon them
in the night, the wind blowing hard at E.N.E. Had they seen
the island, as | must nece: ssarily suppose they did not, they
must, as I ‘thought, h: ave endeavored to have saved themselves

on shore by the “help of their boat ; bat their firing off guns for
help, especially when Hey saw, as I imagined, my fire, filled
me with many thoughts : first, I imagined that upon seeing my
light, they might have Sd “Hhamsélies into their boat, and en-
deavored to make the shore; but that the sea going very high,

they might have been cast away : : other times 1 imagined that
they might have lost their boat before, as might be the case
many ways; as, particularly, by the breaking “of the sea upon
their ship, which many times obliges men to. stave, or take in
pieces, their boat, and sometimes to throw it overboard with
their own hands: other times I imagined they had some other
ship or ships in company, who, upon the signals of distress
they had made, had taken them up and carried them off ;
other times I fancied they were all gone off to sea in their
boat, and being hurried away by the current that I had been
formerly 1 in, were carried out into the great ocean, where there
was nothing but misery and perishing; and that, perhaps,
they might ‘by this time think of starving, and of being in a
condition to eat one another.

As all these were but conjectures at best, so, in the condi-
tion I was in, I could do no more than look on upon the misery
of the poor men, and pity them; which had still this good
effect on my side, "that it gave me more and more cause to give
thanks to God, who had so happily and comfortably provided
for me in my desolate condition ; and that of two ships’ com-
panies who were now cast away upon this part of the world,
not one life should be spared but mine. I learned here again
to observe, that it is very rare that the providence of God casts
us into any condition of life so low, or any misery so great,
but we may see something or other to be thankful for, and
may see others in worse circumstances than our own. Such
certainly was the case of these men, of whom I could not so
much as see room to suppose any of them were saved: nothing
could make it rational so much as to wish or capers that theypam tee

S  aetearat iateh ciee che meorne

140 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

did not all perish there, except the possibility only of their
being taken up by another ship in company; and this was
but mere possibility indeed, for I saw not the least sign or ap-
pearance of any such thing. I cannot explain, by any pos-
sible energy of words, what a strange longing or hankering of
desires I felt in my soul upon this sight, breaking out some-
times thus: ‘‘O that there had been but one or two, nay, or
but one soul, saved out of this ship, to have escaped to me,
that [ might but have had one companion, one fellow-creature
to have spoken to me, and to have conversed with!” In all
the time of my solitary life, I never felt so earnest, so strong a
desire after the society of my fellow-creatures, or so deep a
regret at the want of it.

There are some secret moving springs in the affections, °
which, when they are set a going by some object in view, or,
though not in view, yet rendered present to the mind by the
power of imagination, that motion carries out the soul, by its
impetuosity, to such violent, eager embracings of the object,
that the absence of it is insupportable. Such were these ear-
nest wishings that but one man had been saved. I believe I
repeated the words, “‘O that it had been but one!” a thousand
times; and my desires were so moved by it, that when I spoke
the words, my hands would clinch together, and my fingers
would press the palms of my hands, so that if I had had any
soft thing in my hana it would have crushed it involuntarily :
and the teeth in my head would strike together, and set against
one another so strong, that for some time I could not part
them again. Let the naturalists explain these things, and the
reason and manner of them: all I can say to them is, to de-
scribe the fact, which was even surprising to me, when I found
it, though I knew not from whence it proceeded : it was doubt-
less the effect of ardent wishes, and of strong ideas formed in
my mind, realizing the comfort which the conversation of one
of my fellow Christians would have been to me. But it was
not to be; either their fate or mine, or both, forbade it ; for,
till the last year of my being on this island, I never knew
whether any were saved out of that ship or no; and had onlv
he affliction, some days after, to see the corpse of a drowned
boy come on shore at the end of the island which was next the
shipwreck. He had no clothes on but a seamen’s waistcoat,
a pair of open-kneed linen drawers, and a blue linen shirt; but
nothing to direct me so much as to guess what nation he was
of: he had nothing in his pockets but two pieces of eight and
a tobacco-pipe ;—the last was to me of ten times more value
than the first.

It was now calm, and I had a great mind to venture out in
my boat to this wreck, not doubting but I might find some-
thing on board that might be useful to me: but that did not
altce<thex noe =9 sa much as the possibility that there mightROBINSON CRUSOE. 143

be yet some living creature. on board, whose life I might not
only save, but might, by saving that life, comfort my own to
the last degree; and this thought clung so to my heart, that I
could not be quiet night or day, but I must venture out in my
boat on board this wreck; and committing the rest to God’s
providence, I thought the impression was so strong upon my
mind that it could not be resisted, that it must come from son
invisible direction, and that I should be wanting to myself if I
did not go.

Under the power of this impression, I hastened back to my
castle, prepared every thing for my voyage, took a quantity
of bread, a great pot of fresh water, a compass to steer by, a
bottle of rum (for I had still a great deal of that left), and a
basket of raisins; and, thus loading myself with every thing
necessary, I went down to my boat, got the water out of her,
put her afloat, loaded all my cargo in her, and then went home
again formore. My second cargo was a great bag of rice, the
umbrella to set up over my head for a shade, another large pot
of fresh fater, and about two dozen of my small loaves, or
barley-cakes, more than before, with a bottle of goat’s milk
and a cheese; all which, with great labor and sweat, I carried
to my boat; and praying to God to direct my voyage, I put
out; and rowing, or paddling, the canoe along the shore, came
at last to the utmost point of the island on the north-east side.
And now I was to launch out inte the ocean, and either to
venture, or not to venture. I looked on the rapid currents
which ran constantly on both sides of the island at a distance,
and which were very terrible to me, from the remembrance
of the hazard [ had been in before, and my heart began to fail
me ; for I foresaw that if I was driven into either of those cur
rents, I should be carried a great way out to sea, and perhaps
out of my reach, or sight of the island again; and that then, as
my boat was but small, if any little gale of wind should rise, I
should be inevitably lost.

These thoughts so oppressed my mind, that I began to give
over my enterprise; and having hauled my boat into a little
creek on the shore, I stepped out, and sat me down upon a
rising bit of ground, very pensive and anxious, between fear
and desire, about my voyage; when, asI was musing, I could,
perceive that the tide was turned, and the flood come on; up-
on which my going was impracticable for so many hours.
Upon this presently it occurred to me, that I should go up to
the highest piece of ground I could find, and observe, if I could,
how the sets of the tide, or currents, lay when the flood came
in, that I might judge whether, if 1 was driven one way out, I
might not expect to be driven another way home, with the
same rapidness of the currents. This thought was no sooner
in my head than I cast my eye upon a little hill, which suffi-
ciently overlooked the sea both ways, and from whence [| had
a clear view of the currents, or sets of the tide, and which way1 Py

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

I was to guide myself in my return. Here I found, that as
the current of the ebb set out close by the south point of the
island, so the current of the flood set in close by the shore of
the north side; and that I had nothing to do but to keep to the
north side of the island in my return, and I should do well
enough.

Encouraged with this observation, I resolved, the next morn-
ing, to set out with the first of the tide; and reposing myself
for the night in my canoe, under the great watch-coat I men-
tioned, I launched out. I first made a little out to sea, full
north, till 1 began to feel the benefit of the current, which set
eastward, and which carried me at a great rate; and yet did
not so hurry me as the current on the south side had done be-
fore, so as to take from me all government of the boat; but
having a strong steerage with my paddle, I went at a great
rate directly for the wreck, and in less than two hours I came
up toit. It was a dismal sight to look at: the ship, which, by
its building, was Spanish, stuck fast, jammed in between two
rocks ; all the stern and quarter of her were beaten to pieces
with the sea; and as her forecastle, which stuck in the rocks,
had run on with great violence, her mainmast and foremast
were brought by the board, that is to say, broken short off;
but her bowsprit was sound, and the head and bow appeared
firm. When I came close to her, a dog appeared upon herROBINSON CRUSOE. 143

who, seeing me coming, yelped and cried; and as soon as !
called him, jumped into the sea to come to me; I took him
into the boat, but found him almost dead with hunger and
thirst. I gave him a cake of my bread, and he devoured it
like a ravenous wolf that had been starving a fortnight in the
snow; I then gave the poor creature some fresh water, with
which, if I would have let him, he would have burst himself.
After this, I went on board ; but the first sight I met with was
two men drowned in the cook-room, or forecastle of the ship,
with their arms fast about one another. I concluded, as is in-
deed probable, that when the ship struck, it being in a storm,
the sea broke so high, and so continually over her, that the
men were not able to bear it, and were strangled with the con-
stant rushing in of the water, as much as if they had been un-
der water. Besides the dog, there was nothing left in the ship
that had life; nor any goods, that I could see, but what were
spoiled by the water. There were some casks of liquor,
whether wine or brandy, I knew not, which lay lower in the
hold, and which, the water being ebbed out, I could see; but
they were too big to meddle with. I saw several chests, which
I believed belonged to some of the seamen; and I got two of
them into the boat, without examining what wasin them. Had
the stern of the ship been fixed, and the forepart broken off, I
am persuaded I might have made.a good voyage; for, by what
{ found in these two chests, I had room _to suppose the ship
had a great deal of wealth on board; and, if I may guess from
the course she steered, she must have been bound from Buenos
Ayres, or the Rio de la Plata, in the south part of America,
beyond the Brazils, to the Havanna, in the Gulf of Mexico,
and so perhaps to Spain. She had, no doubt, a great treasure
in her, but of no use, at that time, to any body ; and what be-
came of her crew, I then knew not.

I found, besides these chests, a little cask full of liquor, of
about twenty gallons, which I got into my boat with much
difficulty. ‘here were several muskets in the cabin, and a
great powder-horn, with about four pounds ot powder in it:
as for the muskets, I had no occasion for them, so I left thein,
but took the powder-horn. I took a fire-shovel and tongs,
which I wanted extremely; as also two little brass kettles,
a copper pot to make chocolate, and a gridiron; and with
this cargo, and the dog, I came away, the tide beginning
to make home again; and the same evening, about an
hour within night, I reached the island again, weary and
fatigued to the last degree. I reposed that night in the
boat; and in the morning I resolved to harbor what [ had got
in my new cave, and not carry it home to my castle. After
refreshing myself, I got all my cargo on shore, and began to
examine the particulars. The cask of liquor I found to bea
kind of rum, but not such as we had at the Brazils, and, in a
word, not at all good; but when I came to open the chests, Ia aaa mas

144 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

found several things of great use to me: for example, I found
in one a fine case of bottles, of an extraordinary kind, and filled
with cordial waters, fine and very good ; the bottles held about
three pints each, and were tipped with silver. I found two
pots of very good succades, or sweetmeats, so fastened also on
the top, that the salt water had not hurt them; and two more
of the same, which the water had spoiled. I found some very
zood shirts, which were very welcome to me; and about a
ozen and a half of white linen handkerchiefs and colored
neckcloths; the former were also very welcome, being ex-
ceeding refreshing to wipe my face in a hot day. . Besides
this, when I came to the till in the chest, I found there three
great bags of pieces-of-eight, which held about eleven hundred
pieces in all; and in one of them, wrapped up in a paper, six
doubloons of gold, and some small bars or wedges of gold; I
Suppose they might all weigh near a pound. In the other
chest were some clothes, but of little value; but by the cir-
cumstances, it must have belonged to the gunner’s mate;
though there was no powder in it, except two pounds of fine-
glazed powder, in three small flasks, kept, I suppose, for
charging their fowling-pieces on occasion. Upon the whole, 1
got very little by this voyage that was of any use to me; for,
as to the money, I had no manner of occasion for it; it was
to me as the dirt under my feet; and I would have given it all
for three or four pair of English shoes and stockings, which
were things I greatly wanted, but had none on my feet for
many years. | had indeed got two pair of shoes now, which
took off the feet of the two drowned men whom I saw in
the wreck, and I found two pair more in one of the chests,
which were very welcome to me ; but they were not like our
nglish shoes, either for ease or service, being rather what we
call pumps than shoes. I found in this seaman’s chest about
fifty pieces-of-eight in rials, but no gold : I suppose this be-
longed to a poorer man than the other, which seemed to belong
to some officer. Well, however, I lugged this money home to
my cave, and laid it up, as I had done that before, which J
brought from our own ship: but it was a great pity, as I
said, that the other part of this ship had not come to my share;
for I am satisfied I might have loaded my canoe several times
over with money; and, thought I, if I ever escape to England,
it might lie here safe enough till I may come again and
fetch it.

Having now brought all my things on shore, and segured
them, I went back to my boat, and rowed or paddled her along
the shore to her old harbor, where I laid her up, and made the
best of my way to my old habitation, where [I found every
thing safe and quiet. T began now to repose myself, live after
my old fashion, and take care of my family affairs; and, for 4
while, 1 lived easy enough, only that I was more vigilant thanROBINSON CRUSOE. 145

i used to be, locked out oftener, and did not go abroad so
much; and if at any time I did stir with any freedom, it was
always te the east part of the island, where J was pretty well
satisfied the savages never came, and where { could go with-
out se many precautions, and such a lead of arms and ammu-
nition, as I always carried with me if I went the other way.
f lived in this condition near.twe years mere; but my unlucky
head, that was always to let me know it was-bern to make my
body miserable, was all these two years filled with projects
and designs, how, if it were possible, I might get away from
this island ; for sometimes I was for making anether voyage
to the wreck, though my reason told me that tiere was nothing

3

left there worth the hazard of my voyage; semetimes far a
rambie one way, sometimes another; and I believe verily, if I
had had the beat that I went from Sallee in, ] should have ven-
tured to sea, bound any where, I knew not whither. { have
been, in all my circumstances, a memento. te those who are
touched with the general plague of mankind, whence, for
aught I know, one half of their miseries flow: I mean that of
not being satisfied with the station wherein God and nature
hath placed them; for, not to look back upen my primitive
condition, and the excellent advice of my father, the opposition
to which was, as I may call it, my original sin, my saeea neat
mistakes of the same kind had been the means of my coming
into this miserable condition; for had that Providence, which
so happily seated me at the Brazils as a planter, blessed mie
with confined desires, and I could have been contented to have
gone on gradually, I might have been, by this time, I mean in
the time of my being in this island, one of the most consider-
able planters in the Brazils; nay, | am persuaded, that by the
improvements I had made im that little time I lived there, and
the increase I should probably have made, if | had remained,
{ might have been worth a hundred thousand moidores; and
what business had I to leave a settled fortune, a well-stocked
plantation, improving and increasing, to turn supercargo ta
Guinea to fetch negroes, when patience and time would haya
so increased our stock at home, that we could have bought
them at our own door from those whose business it was to
fetch them? and though it had cost us something more, yet
the difference of that price was by no means worth saving at
so great a hazard. But as this is usually the fate of younz
heuds, so reflection upon the folly of it is as commonly the ex-
ercise of more years, or of the dear-bought experience of time °
so it was with me now; and yet so deep had the mistake taken
root in my temper, that I could not satisfy myself in my sta-
tion, but was continually poring upon the means and possibil-
ity of my escape from this place; and that I may, with the
greater pleasure to the reader, bring on the remaining part
of my story, it may not be improper to give some account of
laa
iee

146 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

my first conceptions on the subject of this foolisl scheme for
my escape, and how, and upon what foundation, I acted.

I am now to be supposed retired into my castle, after my
late voyage to the wreck, my frigate laid up and secured under
water, as usual, and my condition restored to what it was be-
fore: I had more wealth, indeed, than I had before, but was
not at all the richer; for I had no more use for it than the
Indians of Peru had before the Spaniards came there.

It-was one of the nights in the rainy season in March, the
four-and-twentieth year of my first setting foot in this island
of solitude, I was lying in my bed, or hammock, awake ; very
well in health, had no pain, no distemper, no uneasiness’ of
body, nor any uneasiness of mind, more than ordinary, but
could by no means close my eyes, that is, so as to sleep; no,
not a wink all night Jong, otherwise than as follows :—It is im-
possible to set down the innumerable crowd of thoughts that
whirled through that great thoroughfare of the brain, the
memory, in this night’s time. | ran over the whole history of
my life in miniature, or by abridgment, as I may eal} it, to my
coming to this island, and also of that part of my life since |
came to this island. In my reflections upon the state of my
case since | came on shore on this island, I was comparing
the happy posture of my affairs in the first years of my hab-
itation here, compared to the life of anxiety, fear, and care,
which I had lived in, ever since { had seen the print of a font
m the sand; not that I did not believe the savages had fre-
quented the island even all the while, and might have been,
several liundreds of them, at times on shore there; but I had
never known it, and was incapable of any apprehensions about
it: my satisfaction was perfect, though my danger was the
same, and I was as happy in not knowing my danger as if. |
had never really been exposed to it. ‘This furnished my
thoughts with many very profitable reflections, and particu-
larly this one: How infinitely good that Providence is, which
has provided, in its government of mankind, such narrow
bounds to his sight and knowledge of things; and though
he walks in the midst of so many thousand dangers, the sight
of which, if discovered to him, would distract his mind and sink
his spirits, he is kept.serene and calm, by having the events
of things hid from his eyes, and knowing nothing of the dan-
gers which surround him.

After these thoughts had for some time entertained me, |
came to reflect seriously upon the real danger I had been in
for so. many years in this very island, and how I had walked
about in the greatest security, and with all possible tranquil-
lity, even when perhaps nothing but the brow of a hill, a great
tree, or the casual approach of night, had been between me
and the worst kind of destruction, viz. that of falling into the
hands of cannibals and savages, who would have seized on me
with the same view as I would on a goat or a turtle, and haveROBINSON CRUSOE: : 147

thought it no more a crime to kill and devour me, than I did
of a pigeon or curlew. I would unjustly slander myself, if j
should say I was not sincerely thankful to my great Preserver,
to whose singular protection I acknowledged, with great hu-
mility, all these unknown deliverances were due, and without
which I must have inevitably fallen into their merciless hands.
When these thoughts were over, my head was for some time
taken up in considering the nature of these wretched creatures,
] mean the savages, and how it came to pass in the world, that
the wise Governor of all things should give up any of his crea-
tures to such inhumanity, nay, to something so much below
even brutality itself, as to devour its own kind: but as this
ended in some (at that time) fruitless speculations, it occurred
to me to inquire, what part of the world these wretches lived in;
how far off the coast was, from whence they came; what they
ventured over so far from home for; what kind of boats they
had; and why I might not order myself and my business SO,
that I might be as able to go over thithe as they were to
come to me.
never so much as troubled myself to consider: what [
should do with myself when I went thither; what would be-
come of me, if I fell into the hands of the savages; or how I
should escape from them, if they attacked me; no, nor so
much as how it was possible for me to reach the coast, and
not be attacked by some or other of them, without any possi-
bility of delivering myself; and if I should not fall into their
hands, what I should do for provision, or whither I should
bend my course: none of these thoughts, I say, so much as
came in my way; but my mind was wholly ent upon the no-
tion of my passing over in my boat tothe mainland. I looked
upon my present condition as the most miserable that could
vossibly be; that I was not able to throw myself into any thing,
Fat death, that could be called worse; and if I reached the
shore of the main, I might perhaps meet with relief, or I might
coast along, as I did on the African shore, till I came to some
inhabited country, and where | might find some relief; and
after all, perhaps, I might fall in with some Christian ship
that might take me in; and if the worst came to the worst, I
could but die, which would put an end to all these miseries at
once. Pray note, all this was the fruit of a disturbed mind, an
impatient temper, made desperate, as it were, by the long con-
tinuance of my troubles, and the disappointments I had met
in the wreck I had been on board of, and where I had been sa
near obtaining what I so earnestly longed for, viz. somebody
to speak to, and to learn some knowledge from them of the
place where I was, and of the probable means of my deliver-
ance. I was agitated wholly by these thoughts: all my calm
of mind, in my resignation to Providence, and waiting the
issue of the dispositions of Heaven, seemed to be suspended148 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

and I had, as it were, no power to turn my thoughts to any
thing but to the project of a voyage to the main; which came
upon me with such force, and such an impetuosity of desire,
that it was not to be resisted.

When this had agitated my thoughts for two hours or more,
with such violence that it set my very blood into a ferment,
and my pulse beat as if I had been in a fever, merely with
the extraordinary fervor of my mind about it, nature, as if I
had been fatigued and exhausted with the very thought of it,
threw me into a sound sleep. One would have thought I
should have dreamed of it; but I did not, nor of any thing rela-
ting to it: but I dreamed that as I was going out in the morn-
ing, as usual, from my castle, | say upon the shore two ca-
noes and eleven savages coming to land, and that they brought
with them another savage, whom they were going to kill, in
order to eat him; when, on asudden, the savage that they
were going to kill-jumped away, and ran for his life; and I
thought, in my sleep, that he came running into my little
thick grove before my fortification, to hide himself; and, that
I, seeing him alone, and not perceiving that the others sought
him that way, showed myself to him, and smiling upon hin,
encouraged him; that he kneeled down to me, seeming to
pray me to assist him; upon which | showed him my ladder,
made him go up, and carried him into my cave, and he be-
came my servant; and that as soon asI had got this man, I
said to myself, ‘‘ Now | may certainly venture to the main
land; for this fellow will serve me as a pilot, and will tell me
what to do, and whither to go for provisions, and whither not
to go for fear of being devoured; what places to venture into,
and what to shun.” I waked with this thought; and was un-
der such inexpressible impressions of joy at the prospect of
my escape, in my dream, that the disappointments which I
felt upon coming to myself, and finding that it was no more
than a dream, were equally extravagant the other way, and
threw me into a very great dejection of spirits.

Upon this, however, I made this a, that my only
way to go about to attempt an escape was, if possible, to get
a savage into my possession; and, if possible, it should be
one ot their prisoners whom they had condemned to be eaten,
and should bring hither to kill. But these thoughts still were
attended with this difficulty, that it was impossible to effect
this without attacking a whole caravan of them, and killing
them all; and this was not only a very desperate attempt, an
might miscarry, but, on the other hand, I had greatly scrupled
the lawfulness of it to myself; and my heart trembled at the
thoughts of shedding so much blood, though it was for my de-
liverance. I need not repeat the arguments which occurred
to me against this, they being the same mentioned before; but
though I had other reasons to offer now, viz. that those menROBINSON CRUSOE. 149

were enemies to my life, and would devour me if they could,
that it we f-preservation, in the highest degree, to deliver
myself from this death of a life, and was acting in my own de
fence as much as if they were actually assaulting me, and the
like; I say, though these things argued for it, yet the thoughts
of shedding human blood for my deliverance were very ter
rible to me, and such as I could by no means reconcile my
self to for a great while. However, at last, after many secret
disputes with myself, and after great perplexities about it (for
all these arguments, one way and another, struggled in my
head along time), the eager prevailing desire of deliverance at
length mastered all the rest; and I resolved, if possible, to get
one of those savages into my hands, cost what it would. My
next thing was to contrive how to do it, and this indeed was
very difficult to resolve on: but as I could pitch upon no
probable means for it, so I resolved to put myself upon the
watch, to see them when they came on shore, and leave the
rest to the event; taking such measures as the opportunity
shoud present, let what would be.

With these resolutions in. my thoughts, I set myself upon
the scout as often as possible, and indeed so often, that I was
heartily tired of it; for it was above a year anda half that I
waited; and for great part of that time went out to the west
end, and to the south-west corner of the island, almost every
day, to look for canoes, but none appeared. ‘This was very
discouraging, and began to trouble me much ; tnough I cannot
say thatit did in this case (as it had done some time before)
wear off the edge of my desire to the thing; but the longer it
seemed to be delayed, the more eager I was for it: in a word,
i was not at first so careful to shun the sight of these savages,
and avoid being seen by them, as I was now eager to be upon
them. Besides, I fancied myself able to manage one, nay,
two or three savages, if I had them, so as to make them en-
tirely slaves to me, to do whatever I should direct them, and
to prevent their being able at any time to do me any hurt. It
was a great while that I pleased myself with this affair; but
nothing still presented: all my fancies and schemes came to
nothing, for no savages came near me for a great while.

About a year and a half after I entertained these notions
(and by long musing had, as it were, resolved them all into
nothing, for want of an occasion to put them into execution),
I was surprised, one morning early, with seeing no less than
five canoes all on shore together on my side the island, and
the people who belonged to them all landed, and out of my
sight. The number of them broke all my measures; for see-
ing so many, and knowing that they always came four or six,
or sometimes more, in a boat, I could not tell what to think of
it, or how to take my measures, to attack twenty or thirty
men single-handed; so lay still in my castle, perplexed and150 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

discomforted: however, I put myself into all the same postures
for an attack that I had formerly provided, and was just ready
for action, if any thing had presented. Having waited a good
while, listening to hear if they made any noise, at length,
being very impatient, I set my guns at the foot of my ladder,
and clambered up to the top of the hill, by my two stages, as
usual; standing so, however, that my head did not appear
above the hill, so that they could not perceive me by any
means. Here I observed, by the help of my perspective-glass,
that they were no less than thirty in number; that they had
a fire kindled, and that they had meat dressed. How they
had cooked it, I knew not, or what it was; but they were
all dancing, in I know not how many barbarous gestures aud
i! figures, their own way, round the fire.
el While I was thus looking on them, I perceived, by my per-
ei) . spective, two miserable wretches dragged from the boats,
where, it seems, they were laid by, and were now brought out
for the slaughter. I perceived one of them immediately fall,
being knocked down, I suppose, with a club or wooden sword,
—for that was their way ,—and two or three others were at work
immediately, cutting him open for their cookery, while the
‘ other victim was left standing by himself, till they should be
' ready for him. In that very moment, this poor wretch seeing
Beit ' himself a little at liberty, and unbound, nature inspired him
; I with hopes of life, and he started away from them, and ran

 

‘ with incredible swiftness along the sands, directly towards me;
2 eae ‘ { mean towards that part of the coast where my habitation
ied i was. I was dreadfully frightened, I must acknowledge, when
is f I perceived him run my way, and especially when, as I
rs f thought, I saw him pursued by the whole body: and now 1

expected that part of my dream was coming to pass, and that
he would certainly take shelter in my grove: but I could not
depend, by any means, upon my dream for the rest of it, viz.
4 that the other savages would not pursue him thither, and find
Hea him there. However, I kept my station, and my spirits be-
ae gan to recover, when I found that there was not above three
men that followed him ; and still more was [ encouraged when
TY found that he outstripped them exceedingly in running,
and gained ground of them; so that if he could but hold it
for half an hour, I saw easily he would fairly get away from
them all. a

There was between them and my castle the creek, which 1
mentioned often in the first part of my story, where I landed
i my cargoes out of the ship; and this 1] saw plainly he must
a necessarily swim over, or the poor wretch would be taken
ae there: but when the savage escaping came thither, he made
ii . nothing of it, though the tide was then up; but plunging in,
ro swam through in about thirty strokes, or thereabouts, landed,ROBINSON CRUSOE. 151

and ran on with exceeding strength and swiftness. When the
three persons came to the creek, I found that two of them
could swim, but the third could not, and that, standing on the
other side, he looked at the others, but went no farther, and
soon after went softly back again; which, as it happened, was
very well for him in the end. I observed, that the two who
swam were yet more than twice as long swimming over the
creek as the fellow was that fled from them. It came now
very warmly upon my thoughts, and indeed irresistibly, that
now was the time to get me a servant, and perhaps a com-
panion or assistant, and that I was called plainly by Providence
to save this poor creature’s life. I immediately ran down the
ladders with all pessible expedition, fetched my twe guns,—for
they were both at the foot of the ladders, as I observed above,—
and getting up again, with the same haste, to the top of the
hill, | crossed towards the sea, and having a very short cut,
and al] down hill, placed myself in the way between the pur-
suers and the pursued, hallooing aloud to him that fled, who,
looking back, was at first, perhaps, as much frightened at me
as at them: but I beckoned with my hand to him to come
back; and, in the mean time, I slowly advanced towards the
two that followed; then rushing at once upon the foremost,
I knocked him down with the stock of my piece. I was
Joath to fire, because I would not have the rest hear; though,
at that distance, it would not have been easily heard, and be-
ing out of sight of the smoke too, they would not have easily
known what to make of it. Having knocked this fellow
down, the other who pursued him stopped, as if he had been
frightened, and I advanced apace towards him: but as I came
nearer, | perceived presently he had a bow and arrow, and
was fitting it to shoot at me: so I was then necessitated to
shoot at him first, which I did, and killed him at the first shot.
The poor savage who fled, but had stopped, though he saw
both his enemies falien and killed, as he thought, yet was se
frightened with the fire and noise of my piece, that he stood
stock-still, and neither came forward nor went backward,
though he séemed rather inclined still to fly, than to come on
{ hallooed again to him, and made signs to come forward,
which he easily understood, and came a little way; then
stopped again, and then a little farther, and stopped again ;
and I could then perceive that he stood trembling, as if he had
been taken prisoner, and had just been to be killed, as his two
enemies were. 1 beckoned to him again to come to me, and
gave him ail the signs of encouragement that I could think
of; and he came nearer and nearer, kneeling down every ten
or twelve steps, in token of acknowledgment for saving his
life. I smiled at him, and looked pleasantly, and beckoned to
him to come still nearer : at length he came close to me; and
then he kneeled down again, kissed the ground, and laid hisoD EERIE SEN 1

ROBINSON CRUSGE.

 

head upon the ground, and taking me by the foot, set my foot
upon his head: this, it seems, was in token of swearing to be
my slave forever. I took him up, and made much of him,
and pucontaged him all 1 could. But there was more w ork to
do yet; for { perceived the savage whom [| knocked down was
not killed, but stunned with the blow, and began to come to
himself: so I pointed.to him, and showed } him the s savage, that
he was not de ad; upon this, he spoke some words to me, a
though I could not understand them, yet I thought they w ere
pleasant to hear; for they were the first sound of a man’s
voice that I had heard, my own ex cepiens d be above twenty- -five
years. But there was no ae 1e for such reflections now: the
savage who was knocked-down recovered Prcert so far as to
sit up upon the ground, and i perceived that my savage began
to be afraid ; bat when I saw th: it, I presented my other ¥ piece
at the man, as if I would shoot him: u pon this my savage e (for
so I call him new), made a motion-to me to lend hir m my sword,
which hung naked in a belt by my side, which I did.. He no
sooner had it, but he runs to his enem y, and, at one blow, cut
off his head so cleve RLY no executioner in German y could have
done it sooner or better: which i thought very strange for one
who, I had reason to Baliete: never saw a sword in his life
before, except their own wooden swords: however, it seems,
as I learned afterwards, they make their wooden swords so

sharp, so heavy, and the wood is so hard, that they will cut offROBINSON CRUSOE

heads even with them, ay, and arms, and that at one blow
too. When he had done this, he comes laughing to me, in
sign of triumph, and brought me the sword again, and with
abundance of gestures, which I did not understand, laid it
down, with the -head of the savage that he had killed, just
before me. But that which astonished him most, was to
know how I killed the other Indian so far off: so, ‘pointing
to him, he made signs to me to let him go to him; so I bade
him g0, as wellas I could. When he came to him, he stood like
one amazed, looking at him, turning him first on one side,
then on the other, looked at the wound the bullet had m: ey
which, it seems, was just in his breast, where it had made
a hole ? and no great quantity of blood had followed ; but he
had_ bled inwardly, for he was quite dead. He took up
his bow and arrows, and came back; so I turned to go
away, and beckoned him to follow me, ’ making signs to him
that more might come after them. Upon this, he made signs
tome that he should bury them with sand, that they might
not be seen by the rest, if they followed ; and so I made signs
to him again to do so. "He fell to work ; ‘and in an instant, “he
had scraped a hole in the sand with his hands, big enough to
bury the first inj and then dragged him into it, and covered
him ; and did so by the other also - I believe he had buried
them both in a quarter of an hour. Then calling him away, I
carried him, not to my castle, but quite away to my cave, on
the farther part of the island; so I did not let my dream come
to pass in that part, viz. that he came into my grove for shel-
ter. Here I gave him bread and a bunch of raisins to eat, and
a draught of water, which I found he was indeed in creat dis-
tress for, by his running; and having refreshed him, I made
signs for him to go and lie down to sleep, showing him to a
place where I had laid some rice-straw, and a blanket upon it,
which I used to sleep upon myself sometimes ; so the poor crea-
ture lay down, and went to sleep.

He was a comely, handsome fellow, perfectly well made,
with straight, strong limbs, not too large, tall, and well shaped ;
and, as I “reckon, about twenty-six years of age. He had a
very good counteni ance, not a fierce and surly aspect, but
seemed to have something very manly in his face; and yet he
had all the sweetness and softness of an European i in his’ coun-
tenance too, especially when he smiled. His hair was long
and black, not curled like wool; his forehead very high and

ce; and a great vivacity and sparkling sharpness. in his

The color of his skin was not quite black, but very

and yet not an ugly, yellow, nauseous tawny, as the
Brazilians and Virginians, and other natives of America are.

but of a bright kind of a dun olive color, that had in it son ne-

thing very agreeable, though not very easy to describe. His
face was round and plump : his nose small, not flat like theraat ROBINSON CRUSOE.

Negroes; a very good mouth, thin lips, and his fine teeth well
set, and as white as ivory. ‘ .

After he had slumbered, rather than slept, about half an
hour, he aweke again, and came out of the cave to me, for I
had been milking my goats, which | had in the inclosure just
by : when he espied me, he came ran to me, laying hime
self down again upon the ground, with all the possible signs
of an humble, thankful disposition, making a great many antic
gestures to show it. At last, he lays his head flat upon the
ground, close to my foot, and sets my other foot upon his head,
as he had done before; and after this, made all the signs to me
of subjection, servitude, and submission, imaginable, to let me
know how he would serve me so long as he lived: I under-
stood him in many things, and let him know I was very well
pleased with him. In a little time I began to speak to him,
and teach him to speak to me; and, first, I let him know his
name should be Fripay, which was the day I saved his life; [
called him so for the memory of the time. I likewise taught
him to say Master; and then let him know that was to be my
name: I likewise taught him to say Yes and No, and to know
the meaning of them. I gave him some milk in an earthen
pot, and let him see me drink it before him, and sop my bread
in it; and gave him a cake of bread to do the like, which he
quickly complied with, and made signs that it was very good
for him. I kept there with him all that night; but'as soon as
it was day, I beckoned to him to come with me, and let hin
know I would give him some clothes; at which he seemed yery
glad, for he was stark naked. As we went by the place where
he had buried the two men, he pointed exactly to the place,
and showed me the marks that he had made to find them again,
making signs to me that we should dig them up again, and eat
them. At this I appeared very angry, expressetl my abhor-
rence of it, made as if [ would vomit at the thoughts of it, and
beckoned with my hand to him to come away; which he did
immediately, with great submission. I then led him up to the
top of the hill, to see if his enemies were gone; and pulling
out my glass, I looked, and saw plainly the place where they
had been, but no appearance of them or their canoes; so that
it was plain they were gone, and had left their two comrades
behind them, without any search after them.

But I was not content with this discovery ; but having now
more courage, and consequently more curiosity, I took my
man Friday with me, giving him the sword in his hand, with
the bow and arrows at his back, which I found he could use
very dextrously, making him carry one gun for me, and [
two for myself; and away we marched to the place where
these creatures had been; for I had a mind now to get some
fuller intelligence of them. When I came to the place, my
very blood ran chill in my veins, and my heart sunk within
me, at the horror of the spectacle ; indeed, it was a dreadfulROBINSON CRUSOE. 155

sight, at least it was so to me, though Friday made nothing of
it. The place was covered with human bones, the ground

dyed with their blood, and great pieces of flesh left here and
there, half-eaten, mangled, and scorched ; and, in short, all
the tokens of the triumphant feast they had been making
there, after a victory over their enemies. I saw three skulls,
five hands, and the bones ef three or four legs and feet, and
abundance of other parts of the bodies: and Friday, by his
signs, made me unc nd that they brought over feur pris-
oners to feast upon; that three of them were eaten up, and
that he, pointing to himself, was the fourth; that there had
been a great battle between them and their next king, whose
subject, it seems, he had been one of, and that they had taken
2 great number of prisoners; all which were carried to several
places by those who bad taken them in the fight, in order ta

a

feast upon them, as was- done here by these wretches upon
those they brought hither.

I caused Friday to gather ali the skulls, bones, flesh, and
whatever remained, and lay them together in a heap, and
make a great fire upon it, and burn them all to ashes.
found Friday had still a hankering stomach after some of the
Jesh, and was still a cannibal in his nature; but I discovered
so much abhorrence at the very thoughts of it, and at the least
appearance of it, that he durst not discover it; for I had,
by some means, let him know, that I would kill him if he

ored it.

When he had done this, we came back to our castle; and
there I fell te work for my man Friday ; and, first of all, I
gave him a pair of linen drawers, which I had out of the poor
gunner’s chest f mentioned, which I found in the wreck, and
which, with a little alteration, fitted him very well; and then l
made him a jerkin of goat’s-skin, as well as my skill would
allow (fer I was now grown a tolerable good tailor); and 1
xave him a cap, which | made of hare’s skin, very convenient
and fashionable enough; and thus he was clothed for the pres-
ent, tolerably well, and was mighty well pleased to see himself
almost as well clothed as his master. It is true, he went awk-
wardly in these clothes at first; wearing the drawers was very
awkward to him, and the sleeves of the waistcoat galled his
shoulders, and the inside of arms; but a little easing them
where he complained they hurt him, and using himself to
them, he took to them at length very well.

The next day after came home to my hutch with him, I
began to consider where I should lodge him; and that I might
do weil fer kim, and yet be perfectly easy myself, I made a
Hittle tent for him in the vacant place between my two fortifi-
cations, in the inside of the last and in the outside of the first.
As there was a door or entrance there into my cave, I made a
formal framed door-case, and a door to it of beards, and set it156 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

up in the passage, a little within the entrance; and, causing
the door to open in the inside, | barred it up in the night,
taking in my bidder's too; so that Friday could no way come
at me in the inside of my innermost wall, without making so
much noise in getting over that it must needs waken me; for
my first wall had now a complete roof over it of long poles,
covering all my tent, and leaning up to the side of the hill ;
which was again laid across with snzatler sticks, imstead of laths,
and then thatched over a great thickness with the rice-straw,
which was strong, like reeds; and at the hole or place which
was left to go in or out by the ladder, I had placed a kind of
trap-door, which, if it had been attempted on the outside,
would not have opened at all, but wouid have fallen down, and
made a great noise: as to weapons, I took them all into my
side every night. But I needed none of all this precaution; for
never man had a more faithful, loving, sincere servant, than
Friday was to me; without passions, sullenness, or-designs,
perfectly obliged and engaged; his very affections were tied
to me like those of a- child to a father; and I dare say, he
would have sacrificed his life for the saving mine, wpon any
occasion whatsoever : the many testimonies he gave me of this
put it out of doubt, and soon convinced me that I needed to
use no precautions, as to my safety on his account.
This frequently gave me occasion to observe, and that with
wonder, that, however it had pleased God, in his providence,
and in the government of the works of his hands, to take from
so great a part of the world of his creatures the best uses to
which their faculties and the powers of their souls are adapted,
yet that he has bestowed upon them the same powers, the
Same reason, the same affections, the same sentiments of kind-
ness and obligation, the same passions and. resentments of
wrongs, the same sense of gratitude, sincerity, fidelity, and all
the capacities of doing good, and receiving good, that he has
given to us; and that when he pleases to offer them occasions
of exerting these, they are as ready, nay, more ready, te apply
them to the right uses for which they were bestowed, than we
are. This made me very melancholy sometimes, in reflecting
as the several occasions presented, how mean a use we make
of all these, even though we have these powers enlightened by
the great lamp of instruction, the Spirit of God, and by the
knowledge éf hits word added to our understanding ; and why
it has pleased God to hide the like saving knowledge from so
many millions of souls, who, if I might judge by this poor
Savage, would make a much better use of it than we did.
Krom hence, I sometimes was led too far, to invade the sove-
reignty of Providence, and as it were arraign the justice of so
arbitrary a disposition of things, that should hide that light
from some, and reveal it to others, and yet expect a like duty
from both; but I shut it up, and checked my thoughts withROBINSON CRUSOE. 157

this conclusion: first, That we did not know by what light
and law these should be condemned; but that as God was ne-
cessarily, and, by the nature of his being, infinitely holy and
just, so it could not be, but if these creatures were all sen-
tenced to absence from himself, it was on account of sinning
against that hght, which, as the Scripture says, was a law to
themselves, and by such rules as their consciences would ac-
knowledge to be just, though the foundation was not discov-
ered to us; and, secondly, That still, as we all are the clay in
the hand of the potter, no vessel could say to him, ‘‘ Why hast
thou formed me thus?”’ ;

_ But to return to my new companion :—I was greatly de-
lighted with him, and made it my business to teach him every
thing that was proper to make him useful, handy, and helpful ;
but especially to make him speak, and understand me when
spoke: and he was the aptest scholar that ever was; and par-
ticularly was so merry, so constantly diligent, and so pleased
when he could but understand me, or make me understand
him, that it was very pleasant to me to talk tohim. Now, my life
began to be so easy, that I began to say to myself, that could
[ but have been safe from more savages, I cared not if I was
never to remove from the place where I lived.

After I had been two or three days returned to my castle, I
thought that, in order to bring Friday off from his horrid way
of feeding, and from the relish of a cannibal’s stomach, I ought
to let him taste other flesh; so | took him out with me one
morning to the woods. I went, indeed, intending to killa kid out
of my own flock, and bring it home-and dress it ; but as I was
going, I saw a she-goat lying down in the shade, and two
young kids sitting by her. I catched hold of Friday ;—‘‘ Hold,
said f; stand still;” and made signs to him not to stir : imme-
diately I presented my piece, shot, and killed one of the kids,
The poor creature, who had at a distance, indeed, seen me
kill the savage, his enemy, but did not know, nor could im-
agine, how it was done, was sensibly surprised, trembled and
shook; and looked so amazed, that I thought he would have
sunk down. He did-not see the kid I shot at, or perceive i
had killed it, but ripped up his waistcoat, to feel whether he
was not wounded; and, as I found presently, thought I was
resolved to kill him; for he came and kneeled down to me,
and embracing my knees, said a great many things I did not
understand; but I could easily see the meaning was, to pray
me not to kill him.

I soon found a way to convince him that 1 would do him no
harm; and taking him up by the hand, laughed at him, and
pointing to the kid which I had killed, beckoned to him to run
and fetch it, which he did: and while he was wondering, and
looking to see how the creature was killed, I loaded my gun
again. By and by, | saw a great fowl, like a hawk, sitting
upon a tree, within shot; so, to let Friday understand a188 ROBINSON C eUSOR.

little what I would do, f called him to me again, pointed at the
fowl, which was indeed a parrot, though I thought it had been
a hawk; I say, pointing to the parrot, and to my gun, and to
the ground under the parrot, to let him see I would make it
fall, I made him understand that { would shoot and kill that
bird; accordingly I fired and bade him look, and immediately
he saw the parrot fall. He stood like one frightened again,
notwithstanding all I had said to him; and I found he was the
more amazed, because he did not see me put any thing into
the gun, but thought that there must be some wonderful fund
of death and destruction in that thing, able to kill man, beast,
bird, or any thing near or far off; and the astonishment this
rreated in him was such as could not wear off for a long time;
and I believe; if I would have let him, he would have wor-
shipped me and my gun. As for the gun itself, he would not
so much as touch it for several days after; but he would speak
to it, and talk to it, as if it. had answered him, when he was by
himself; which, as I afterwards learned of him, was to desire
it not to kill him. Well, after his astonishment was a little
over at this, | pointed to him to run and fetch the bird 1 had
shot, which he did, but staid some time; for the parrot, not
being quite dead, had fluttered away a good distance from the
place where she fell: however, he found her; took her up, and
brought her to me; and as I had perceived his ignorance
about the gun before, I took this advantage to charge the gun
again, and not tolet him see me do it, that I might be ready for
any other mark that might present ; but nothing more offered at
that time; so { brought home the kid, and the same evening I
took the skin off, and cut it out as well as I could; and having
a pot fit for that purpose, I boiled or stewed some of the flesh,
and made some very good broth. After I had begun to eat
some, | gave some to my man, who seemed very glad of it,
and liked it very well; but that which was strangest to him,
was to see me eat salt withit. He made asign to me thatthe salt
was not good to eat; and putting a little into his own mouth,
he seemed to nauseate it, and would spit and sputter at it,
washing his mouth with fresh water after it: on the other
hand, I took some meat into my mouth without salt, and 1
pretended to spit and sputter for want of salt, as fast as he had
done at the salt: but it would not do; he would never care for
salt with his meat or in his broth; at least, not for a great
while, and then but a very little.

Having thus fed him with boiled meat and broth, [ was re-
solved to feast him the next day with roasting a piece of the
kid; this I did, by hanging it before the fire on a string, as I
nad seen many people do in England, setting two poles up,
one on each side of the fire, and one across on the top, and
tying the string to the cross stick, letting the meat turn con-
tinually. ‘This Friday admired very much; but when heROBINSON CRUSOE. 159

came to taste the flesh, he took so many ways to tell me how
well he liked it, that I could not but understand him: and at
last he told me, as well as he could, he would never eat man’s
flesh any more, which I was very glad to hear.

The next day, I set him to work to beating some corn out,
and sifting it in the manner I used to do, as I observed before ;
and he soon understood how to do it as well as I, especially
after he had seen what the meaning of it was, and that it was
to make bread of; for after that I let him see me make my
bread, and bake it too; and in a little time Friday was able to
do all the work for me, as well as I could do it myself.

{ began now to consider, that having two mouths to feed in-
stead of one, I must provide more ground for my harvest, and
plant a larger quantity of corn than I used todo; so I marked
out a larger piece of land, and began the fence in the same
manner as before, in which Friday worked not only very will-
ingly and very hard, but did it very cheerfully: and I told
him what it was for; that it was for corn to make more bread,
because he was now with me, and that I might have enough
for him and myself too. Heé appeared very sensible of that
part, and let me know that he thought I had much more la-

or upon me on his account, than I had for myself; and that
he would work the harder for me, if I would tell him what
to do. :

This was the pleasantest year of all the life I led m_ this
place: Friday began to talk pretty well, and understand the
names of almost every thing I had occasion to call for, and of
every place I had to send him to, and talked a great deal to me ;
so that, in short, I began now to have some use for my tongue
again, which, indeed, I had very little occasion for before, that
is to say, about speech. Besides the pleasure of talking to
him, I had a singular satisfaction in the fellow himself: his
simple unfeigned honesty appeared to me more and more
every day, and I began eae to love the creature; and, on
his side, I believe he loved me more than it was possible for
him ever to love any thing before.

I had a mind once to try if he had any hankering inclination
to his own country again; and having taught him English so
well that he could answer me almost any question, | asked
him whether the nation that he belonged to never conquered
in battle? At which he smiled, and said, ‘‘ Yes, yes, we al-
ways fight the better;”’ that is, he meant, always get the bet-
ter in fight ; and so we began the following discourse :—

Master. You always fight the better; how came you to be
taken prisoner, then, Friday ?

Friday. My nation beat much for all that.

Master. Wow beat? If your nation beat them, how came
you to be taken?

Friday. They more many than my nation in the placeRCE ORI ai art ane ran A DR aha

160 ROBINSON CRUSOE,

where me was; they take one, two, three, and me: my nation
overbeat them in the yonder place, where me no was: there
my nation take one, two great thousand.

Master. But why did not your side recover you from the
hands of your enemies,.then ?

friday. They run one, two, three, and me, and make go
in the canoe; my nation have no canoe that time.

Master. Well, Friday, and what does your nation do with

the men they take? Do they carry them away and eat them,
as these did ?

Friday. Yes, my nation eat mans too ; eat all up.

Master. Where do they carry them?

Friday. Go to other place, where they think.

Master. Do they come hither ?

Friday. Yes, yes, they come hither; come other else

place.

Master,..Have you been here with them?

Friday.‘ Yes, 1 have been here (points to the N. W. side
of the island, which, it seems, was their wae

By this I understood that my man Friday had formerly been
among the savages who used to come on shore on the farther
part of the island, on the same man-eating occasions he was
now brought for; and, some time after, when took the cour-
age to carry him to that side, being the same I formerly. men-
tioned, he presently knew the place, and told me he was there
once when they ate up twenty men, two, women, and one
child: he could not tell twenty in English, but he numbered
them, by laying so many stones in a row, and pointing to me
to tell them over.

I have told this passage, because it introduces what follows;
that after I had this discourse with him, I asked him how far
it was from our island to the shore, and whether the canoes
were not often’ lost. He told me there was no danger, no
Canoes ever lost; but that, after a little way out to sea, there
was a current and wind, always one way in the morning, the
other in the afternoon. This L understood to be no more than
the sets of the tide, as going out or coming in; but I after-
wards understood it was occasioned by the great draft and reflux
of the mighty river Oroonoko, in the mouth or gulf of which
river, as | found afterwards, our island lay; and that this land
which I perceived to the W. and N. W. was the great island
Trinidad, on the north point of the mouth of the river. I asked
Friday a thousand questions about the country, the inhab-
itants, the sea, the coast, and what nations were near: he told
me all he knew, with the greatest openness imaginable. |
asked him the names of the several nations of his sort of people,
but could get no other name than Caribs: from whence I
easily understood, that these were the Caribbees, which our
maps place on the part of America which reaches from the
mouth of the river Oroonoko to Guiana, and onwards to St.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 161

Martha. He told me that up a great way beyond the moon,
that was, beyond the setting of the moon, which must be west
from their country, there dwelt white- bearded men, like me,
and pointed to my great whiskers, which I mentioned before ;
and that they had killed much mans (that was his word) ; by
all which I understood, he meant the Spaniards, whose cruel-
ties in America had been spread over the whole country, and
were remembered by all the nations, from father to son.

I inquired if he could tell me how I might go from this island
and get among those white men: he told me, ‘‘ Yes, yes, you
may go in twocanoe.”’ | could not understand what he meant
or make him describe to me ee he meant by two cane eo:
till, at last, with great difficulty, I found he meant it niust be
in a large boat, as big as two canoes, This part of f'riday’s
discourse began to relish with me very well; and from this
tine I entertained some hopes that, one time or ot! ier, | might
find an opportunity to make my escape from this pl: ace, and
that this poor savage might be a means to help me.

During the long time that F riday had now been with me,
and that he began to speak to me, and understand me, I was
not wanting to lay a foundation of religious knowledge 1 in his
mind: particularly 1-asked him, one-time, who made him.
i he poor Sele did not understand me at all, but thought

had asked him who was his father: but I took it up by

another handle, and asked him who made the sea, the ground
we walked on, ‘and the hills and woods? ~ He told me, it was
one old Benamuckee, that li. 2d beyond all; he could describe
nothing of this great person, but that he was very old, much
older, he said, than the sea or the land, than the moon or the
stars. Lasked him, then, if this old person had made all things,
why did not all things worship him. He look ced very grave;
and with a perfect look of innoc ence s said, ‘* All things say O
to him.” I asked him if the peop! e who die in his country
went away any where. He said, es; they all went to
Benamuckee: then I asked him wh ether these they eat up
went thither too. He said, yes.

From these things I began to instruct him in the knowledge of
the true God : [ told him that the great Maker of all things lived
up there (pointing up towards heaven) ; that he swerned the
world by the same power and Bray tience by which he made
it: that he was omnipotent, and could do every thing for us,
sive. every thing to us, take every thing from us; and thus,
by degrees, i opened his eyes. He listened with great atten-
tion, and received with pleasure the notion of Jesus Christ
being sent to redeem us, and of the manner of making our

yrayers to God, and his being able to hear us, even in heaven.
He: told me one day, that if our God could hear us up beyond
the sun, he must needs be a greater oo than their Bena-
muckee, who lived but a little way off, and yet could act hearore

Pn IRR rat ter ees dm mate

162 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

till they went up to the great mountains, where he dwelt, to
speak to him. I asked him if ever he went thither to speak to
him. He said, No; they never went that were young men;
pone went thither but the old men, whom he called their
Gowakee; that is, as I made him explain it to me, their
religious, or clergy; and that they went to say O (so he
called saying prayers), and then came back, and told them
what Benamuckee said. By this I observed, that there is
priestcraft even among the most blinded, ignorant pagans in
the world; and the policy of making a secret of religion, In
order to preserve the veneration of the people to the clergy, is
not only to be found in the Roman, but perhaps among all re-
ligions in the world, even among the most brutish and _ bar-
barous savages.

I endeavored to clear up this fraud to my man Friday; and
told him, that the pretence of their old men going up to the
mountains to say O to their god Benamuckee was a chedf;
and their bringing word from thence what he said was much
more so; that if they met with any answer, or spake with any
one there, it must be with an evil spirit: and then I entered
into a long discourse with him about the devil, the original of
him, his rebellion against God, his enmity to man, the reason
of it, his setting himself up in the dark parts of the world to
be worshipped instead of God, and as God, and the many
stratagems he made use of to delude mankind to their ruin;
how he had a secret access to our passions and to our affec-
tens, and to adapt his snares to our inclinations, so as to
cause us even to be our own tempters, and run upon our de-
struction by our own choice.

I found it was not so easy to imprint right notions in his
mind about the devil, as it was about the being of a God: na-
ture assisted all my arguments to evidence to him even the
necessity of a great First Cause, and overruling, governing
Power, a secret, directing Providence, and of the ecuity and
justice of paying homage to him that made us, and the like;

ut there appeared nothing of this kind in the notion of an evil
sprit; of his original, his being, his nature, and, above all.
of his inclination to do evil, and to draw us in to do so too;
and the poor creature puzzled me once in such a manner, by
a question merely natural and innocent, that I scarce knew
what to say to him. I had been talking a great deal to him of
the power of God, his omnipotence, his aversion to sin, his
being a consuming fire to the workers of iniquity ; how, as he
had made us all, he could destroy us and all the world in a
moment ; and he listened with great seriousness to me all the
while. After this, I had been telling him how the devil
was God’s enemy in the hearts of men, and used all his malice
and skill to defeat the good designs of Providence, and to
ruin the kingdom of Christ in the world, and the like.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 163

“Well,” says Friday, ‘‘ but you say God is so strong, so great ;
is he not much strong, much might as the devil?”’—‘‘ Yes,
yes,” says I, “‘ Friday, God is stronger than the devil: God is
above the devil; and therefore we pray to God to tread him
down under our feet, and enable us to resist his temptations,
and quench his fiery darts.”’—‘‘ But,” says he again, “if God
much stronger, much might as the devil, why God no kill the
devil, so make him no more do wicked?” I was strangely
surprised at this question ; and, after all, though I was now an
old man, yet I was but a young doctor, and ill qualified for a
casuist, or a solver of difficulties; and, at first, 1 could not tell
what to say ; so I pretended not to hear him, and asked him
what he said; but he was too earnest for an answer, to forget his
question, so that he repeated it in the very same broken words
as above. By this time I had recovered myself a little, and 1
said, ‘God will at last punish him severely ; he is reserved for
the judgment, and is to be cast into the bottomless pit, to dwell
with everlasting fire.” This did not satisfy Friday ; but he
returns upon me, repeating my words, “ Reserve at last! me
no understand: but why not kill the devil now; not kill great
ago?”’—‘* You may as well ask me,” said I, “‘ why God does
not kill you and me, when we do wicked things here that offend
him: we are preserved to repent and be pardoned.” He
mused some time on this: ‘‘ Well, well,” says he, mighty af-
fectionately, “‘ that. well: so you, I, devil. all wicked, all pre-
serve, repent, God pardon all.” Here I was run down again
by him to the last degree ;. and it was a testimony to me, how
the mere notions of nature, though they will guide reasonable
creatures to the knowledge of a God, and of a worship or hom-
age due to the supreme being of God, as the consequence of
our nature, yet nothing but divine revelation can form the
knowledge of Jesus Christ, and of redemption purchased for
us, of a Mediator of the new covenant, and of an Intercessor
at the footstool of God’s throne; I say, nothing but a revelation
from Heaven can form these in the soul; and that, therefore,
the’ Gospel of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, I mean the
Word of God, and the Spirit of God, promised for the guide
and sanctifier of his people, are the absolutely necessary in-
structors of the souls of men in the saving knowledge of God,
and tlie means of salvation.

I therefore diverted the present discourse between me and
my man, rising up hastily, as upon some sudden occasion of
going out; then sending him for something a good way off, I
seriously prayed to God that he would enable me to instruct
savingly this poor savage; assisting, by his Spirit, the heart
of the poor ignorant creature to receive the light of the knowl-
edge of God in Christ, reconciling him to himself, and would
guide me to speak so to him from the word of God, as his con-
science might be convinced, his eyes opened, and his soul
saved. When he came again to me, I entered into a long dis-» acinar a

164 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

course with him upon the subject of the redemption of man by
the Savior of the world, and of the doctrine of the Gospel
preached from heaven, viz. of repentance towards God, and
faith in our blessed Lord Jesus. I then explained to him, as
well as I could, why our blessed Redeemer took not on him
the nature of angels, but the seed of Abraham; and how, for
that reason, the fallen angels had no share in the redemption ;
that he came only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and
the hke.

I had, God knows, more sincerity than knowledge in all the
methods I took for this poor creature’s instruction, and must
acknowledge, what I balieve all that act upon the same prin-
ciple will find, that, in laying things open to him, I really in-
formed and imstructed myself in many things that either I did
not know, or had not fully considered before, but which oc-
curred naturally to my mind upon searching into them, for
the information of this poor savage; and I had more affection
in myanquiry after things upon this occasion than ever I felt
before; so that, whether this poor wild wretch was the better
for me or no, I had great reason to be thankful that ever he
came to me; my grief sat lighter upon me; my habitation
grew comfortable to me beyond measure; and when I reflect-
ed, that in this solitary life which I had been confined to, I had
not only been moved to look up to heaven myself, and to seek
to the hand that had brought me here, but was now to be
made an instrument, under Providence, to save the life, and for
aught I knew, the soul of a poor savage, and bring him to the
true knowledge of religion, and of the Christian doctrine, that
he might know Christ Jesus, in whom is life eternal; I say,
when I reflected upon all these things, a secret joy ran through
every part of my soul, and I frequently rejoiced that ever I
was brought to this place, which I had so often thought the
most dreadful of all afflictions that could possibly have be-
fallen me.

I continued in this thankful frame all the remainder of my
time; and the conversation which em loyed the hours between
I"riday and me was such as made the three years which we
lived there together perfectly and completely happy, if any
such thing as complete happiness can be formed in a sublu-'
nary state. ‘This savage was now a good Christian, a much
better than I; though [ have reason to hope, and bless God
for it, that we were equally penitent, and comforted, restored
penitents. We had here the word of God to read, and no far-
ther off from his Spirit to instruct, than if we had been in
England. I always applied myself, in reading the Scriptures,
to let hima know, as well as I could, the meaning of what I
read; and he again, by his serious inquiries and questionings,
made me, as I said before, a much better scholar in the Scrip-
ture knowledge than I should ever have been by my own mereROBINSON CRUSOE

private reading. Another thing 1 cannot refrain from observ:
ing here also, from experience in this retired part of my life,
viz. how infinite and inexpressible a blessing it is that the
knowledge of God, and of the doctrine of salvation by Christ
Jesus, is so plainly laid down in the word of God, so easy to
be received and understood, that, as the bare reading the
Scripture made me capable of understanding enough of my
duty to carry me directly on to the great work of sincere re-
pentance for my sins, and laying hold of a Savior for life and
salvation, to a stated reformation in practice, and obedience to
all God’s commands, and this without any teacher or instruct-
or, 1 mean human; so the same plain instruction sufficiently
served to the enlightening this savage creature, and bringing
him to be such a Christian, as I have known few equal to him
in my life.

As to all the disputes, wrangling, strife, and contention,
which have happened in the world about religion, whether
niceties in doctrines, or schemes of church government, they
were all perfectly useless to us, and, for aught I can yet see,
they have been so to the rest of the world. We had the sure
guide to heaven, viz. the word of God; and we had, blessed be
God, comfortable views of the Spirit of God teaching and in-
structing us by his word, leading us into all truth, and making
us both willing and obedient to the instruction of his word.
And I cannot see the least use that the greatest knowledge ofwate

 

  

166 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

the disputed points of religion, which have made such confu-
sions in the world, would have been to us, if we could have ob-
tained it.—But I must go on with the historical part of things,
and take every part in its order.

After Friday and [became more intimately acquainted, and
that he could understand almost all F said to him, and speak
pretty fluently, though in broken English, to me, I acquainted
him with my own history, or at least so much of it as related to
my coming to this place; how I had lived here, and how long: J
let him into the mystery, for such it was to him, of gunpowder
and bullet, and taught him how to shoot. I gave him a kuife,
which he was wonderfully delighted with; and I made him a
belt, with a frog hanging to it, such as in England we wear
hangers in, and in the frog, instead of a hanger, I gave him a
hatchet, which was not only as good a weapon, in some cases, -
but much more useful upon other occasions.

I described to him the country of Europe, particularly
England, which I came from; how we lived, how we wor-
shipped God, how we behaved to one another, and how we
traded im ships to all parts of the world. I gave him an account
of the wreck which I had been on board of, and showed him, as
near as I could, the place where she lay ; but she was all beaten
in pieces before, and gone. I showed him the ruins of our boat,
which we lost when we escaped, and which I could not stir
with my whole strength then; but was now fallen almost all
to pieces. Upon seeing this boat, Friday stood musing a
great while, and said nothing. I asked him what it was he
studied upon. At last, says he, ‘‘ Me see such boat like come
to place at my nation.” I did not understand him a ood
while; but, at last, when I had examined farther into it, T un-
derstood by him, that a boat, such as that had been, came on
shore upon the country where he lived; that is, as he ex-
plained it, was driven thither by stress of weather. I pres-
ently imagined that some European ship must have been cast
away upon their coast, and the boat might get loose; and
drive ashore; but was so dull, that I never once thought of
men making their escape from a wreck thither, much less
whence they might come: so I only inquired after a descrip-
tion of the boat.

Friday described the boat to me well enough; but brought
me better to understand him when he added with some
warmth, “‘We save the white mans from drown.” Then I
presently asked him, if there were any white mans (as he
called them) in the boat. ‘“ Yes,” he said; “the boat full
of white mans.” I asked him how many. He told upon his
fingers seventeen. J asked him then what became of them.
He told me, ‘“‘ They live, they dwell at my nation.”

This put new thoughts into my head; for I presently im-
agmed that these might be the men belonging to the ship thatROBINSON CRUSOE. 167

was Cast away in the sight of my island (as | now called it) ;
and who, after the ship was struck on the rock, and they saw
ner inevitably lost, had saved themselves in their boat, and
were landed upon that wild shore among the savages. Upon
this, | inquired of him more critically what was become of
them; he assured me they lived still there; that they had
been there about four years; that the savages let them alone,
and gave them victuals to live on. 1 asked him how it came
to pass they did not kill them, and eat them. He said, ‘“‘ No,
they make brother with them;’’ that is, as I understood him,
a truce; and then he added, ‘‘ They no eat mans but when
make the war fight ;” that is to say, they never eat any men
but such as come to fight with them, and are taken in battle.

It was after this some considerable time, that being upon
the top of the hill, at the east side of the island, from whence,
as I have said, I had, in a clear day, discovered the main or
continent of America, Friday, the weather being very serene,
looks very earnestly towards the main land, and, in a kind
of surprise, falls a jumping and dancing, and calls out to me—
for I was at some distance from him. I asked him what was
the matter. ‘“O joy!” sayshe; ‘“‘O glad! there see my
country, there my nation!” 1 observed an extraordinary
sense of pleasure appeared in his face, and his eyes sparkled,
and his countenance discovered a strange eagerness, as if he
had a mind to be in his-own country again. ‘This observation
of mine put a great many thoughts into me, which made me
at first not so easy about my new man Friday as I was before;
aud I made no doubt but that, if Friday could get back to his
own nation again, he would not only forget all his religion, but
all his obligation to me, and would be forward enough to give
his countrymen an account of me, and come back perhaps
with a hundred or two of them, and make a feast upon me, at
which he might be as merry as he used to be with those of his
enemies, when they were taken in war. But I wronged the
poor honest creature very much, for which I was very sorry
afterwards. However, as my jealousy increased, and held me
same weeks, | was a little more circumspect, and not so
familiar and kind to him as before; in which I was certainly in
the wrong too; the honest, grateful creature, having no
thought about it, but what consisted with the best principles,
both as a religious Christian, and as a grateful friend; as ap-
peared afterwards, to my full satisfaction.

While my jealousy of him lasted, you may be sure I was
every day pumping him, to see if he would discover any of the
new thoughts which I suspected were in him; but I found
every thing he said was so honest and so innocent, that I could
find nothing to nourish my suspicion; and, in spite of all my
uneasiness, he made me at last entirely his own again; norCR RGORMR RUE La Teac MeN

168 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
did he, in the least, perceive that I was uneasy, and therefore
I could not suspect i of deeetty ~~ _

One day, walking up the same hill, but the weather being
hazy at sea, so that we could not see the continent, I called to
him, and said, ‘‘ Friday, do not you wish yourself in your own
country, your own nation?”’—‘‘ Yes,” he said, “I be much
O glad to be at my own nation.”—‘‘ What would you do
there?” said I; ‘‘ would you turn wild again, eat men’s flesh
again, and be a savage, as you were before?” He looked full
of concern; and shaking his head, said, ‘‘ No, no, Friday tell
them to live good; tell them to pray God; tell them to eat
corn-bread, cattle-flesh, milk; no eat man again.”—* Why
then,”’ said I to him, “‘ they will kill you.” He looked grave
at that, and then said, ‘‘ No, no; they no kill me, they willing
love learn.””’ He meant by this, they would be willing to
learn. He added, ‘“‘ They learn much of the bearded mans
that came in the boat.” Then I asked him if he would go
back to them. He smiled at that, and told me that he could not
swim so far. I told him, I would make a canoe for him. He
told me he would go, if I would go with him. ‘I go!” says
1, “why, they will eat me if I come there.” —‘‘ No, no,” says
he, “me make they no eat you; me make they much love
you.” He meant, he would tell them how I had killed his
enemies, and saved his life, and so he would make them love
me Then he told me, as well as he could, how kind they
were to seventeen white men, or bearded men, as he called
them, who came on shore there in distress.

From this time, I confess I had a mind to venture over, and
see if | could possibly join with those bearded men, who, I
made no doubt, were Spaniards and Portuguese; not doubting
but if I could, we might find some method to escape from
thence, being upon the continent, and a good company to
gether, better than I could from an island forty miles off
the shore, and alone, without help. So, after some days, 1
took Friday to work again by way of discourse; and told him
I would give him a boat to go back to his own nation; and ac-
cordingly I carried him to my frigate, which lay on the other
side of the island, and having cleared it of water (for I always
kept it sunk in water), I brought it out, showed it him, and
we both went into it. I found he was a most dextrous fellow
at managing it, and would make it go almost as swift again as
I could. So when he was in, I said to him, ‘‘ Well, now, Fri-
day, shall we go to your nation?” He looked very dul] at my
saying so; which, it seems, was because he thought the boat
too small to go so far: I then told him { had a bigger; so the
next day I went to the place where the first boat lay which 1
had made, but which I could not get into the water. He said
that was big enough; but then, as I had taken no care of it,
and it had lain two or three and twenty years there, the sunROBINSON CRUSOE. 169

had so split and dried it, that it was ina manner rotten. Friday
told me such a boat would do very well, and would carry
““much enough vittle, drink, bread:” that was his way of
talking. 3

_Upon the whole, 1 was by this time so fixed upon my de-
sign of going over with him to the continent, that I told him
we would go and make one as big as that, and he should go
home in it. He answered not one word, but looked very grave
and sad. {f asked him what was the matter with him. He
asked me again, ‘‘ Why you angry mad with Friday ? what
me done?” { asked him what he meant; { told him [ was
not angry with him at all. “Ne angry!” savs he, repeating
the words several times ; “ why send Friday home away ts my
nation ?’’—“ Why,” says I, “‘ Friday, did net you say you
wished you were there’?’’—“‘ Yes, yes,” says he, ‘ wish be
both there; no wish Friday there, no master there.” In a
word, he would not think of going there without me. ‘I go
there, Friday!” says I, ‘‘ what shall I do there?” He re-
turned very quick-upon me at this: “ You do great deal
mucn gooa,”’ says he; “‘ you teach wild mans be good, sober,
tame mans; you tell them know God, pray Ged, and live new
hife.’—** Alas! Friday,” says I, “ thou knowest not what thou
sayest; I am but an ignorant man myself.””—“‘ Yes, yes,”
says he, ‘‘ you teachee me good, you teachee them good.” —
“* No, no, Friday,” says I, “you shall go’without me; leave
me here to live by myself, as I did before.” He lcoked con-
fused again at that word; and running to one of the hatchets
which he used to wear, he takes it up hastily, and gives it to
me. ‘‘ What must I do with this?” says I to him. ‘ You
take kill Friday,” says he. ‘‘ What must I kill you for?” said
f again. He returns very quick, “‘ What you send Friday
away for? Take kill Friday, no send Friday away.” This he
spoke so earnestly, that I saw tears stand in his eyes: in a
word, I so plainly discovered the utmost affection in him to
me, anda firm resolution in him, that I told him then, and
often after, that I would never send him away from me, if Le
was willing to stay with me.

Upon the whole, as I found, by all his discourse, a settled
affection to me, and that nothing should part him from me, so
{ found all the foundation of his desire to go to his own coun-
try was laid in his ardent affection to the people, and his ho: «-s
of my doing them good; a thing, which, as thad no notion of
myself, so [ had not the least thought, or intention, or desire
of undertaking it. But still I found a strong inclination to my
attempting an ou as above, founded on the supposition

athered from the discourse, viz. that there were seventeen

bearded men there; and, therefore, without any more delay

I went to work with Friday, to find out a great tree proper to

fell, and make a large periagua, or canoe, to undertake the
8

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~170 ROBINSON CRUSOE

voyage. There were trees enough in the island to have built
a little fleet, not of periaguas, or_canoes, but even of good
large vessels; but the main thing I looked at was, to get one
so near the water that we might Jaunch it when it was made,
to avoid the mistake I committed at first. At last, Friday
pitched upon a tree; for I found, he knew much better than I
what kind of wood was fittest for it; nor can I tell, to this day,
what wood to call the tree we cut down, except that it was
very like the tree we call fustic, or between that and the Ni-
caragua wood, for it was much of the same color and smell.
Friday was for burning the hollow or cavity of this tree out,
to make it for a boat, but I showed him how to cut it with
tools, which, after [ had showed him how to use, he did very
handily ; and in about a month’s hard labor we finished it, and
made it very handsome; especially when, with our axes,
which I showed him how to handle, we cut and hewed the
outside into the true shape of a boat. After this, however, it
cost us near a fortnight’s time to get her along, as it were inch
by inch, upon great rollers into the water; but when she was
in, she would have carried twenty men with great ease.

When she was in the water, and though she was so big, it
amazed me to see with what dexterity, and how swift my man
Friday would manage her, turn her, and paddle her along.
So I asked him if he would, and if we might venture over in
her. ‘‘ Yes,” he°said, ‘we venture over in her very well,
though great blow wind.” However, I had \a further design
that he knew nothing of, and that was to make a mast and a
sail, and to fit her with an anchor and cable. As to a mast,
that was easy enough to get: so I pitched upon a straight
young cedar tree, which I found near the place, and which
there were great plenty of in the island; and I set Friday to
work to cut it down, and gave him directions how to shape and
order it. But as to the sail, that was my particular care.
knew I had old sails, or rather pieces of old sails enough; but
as I had had them now six-and-twenty years by me, and had
not been very careful to preserve them, not imagining that §
should ever have this kind of use for them, I did not doubt but
they were all rotten, and, indeed, most of them were so. How-
ever, [ found two pieces, which appeared pretty good, and
with these I went to work; and with a great deal of pains,
and awkward stitching, you may be sure, for want of needles,
I, at length, made a three-cornered, ugly thing, like what we
call in England a shoulder-of-mutton sail, to go with a boom
at bottom, and a little short sprit at the top, such as usually
our ships’ long-boats sail with, and such as I best knew how
to manage, as it was such a one I had to the boat in which lL
made my escape from Barbary, as related in the first part of
my story.

1 was near two months performing this last work, viz. rig-ROBINSON CRUSOE. 171

ging and fitting my mast and sails; for 1 finished them very
complete, making a small stay, and a sail, or fore-sail, to it, to
assist, if we should turn to windward; and, which was more
than all, I fixed a rudder to the stern of her to steer with. [|
was but a bungling shipwright, yet, as I knew the usefulness,
and even necessity.of such a thing, I applied myself with so
much pains to do it, that at last 1 brought it to pass; thoug!
considering the many dull contrivances I had for it that fai

[ think it cost me almost as much labor as making the boat.

After all.this was done, I had my man Friday to teach as to
what belonged to the navigation of my boat; for, though he
knew very well how to paddle a canoe, he knew nothing what
belonged to a sail and a rudder; and was the most amazed
when he saw me work the boat to and again in the sea by the
rudder, and how the sail gibbed, and filled this way, or that
way, as the course we sailed changed; I say, when he saw
this, he stood like one astonished and amazed. However, with
a little use, I made all these things familiar to him, and he be-
came an expert sailor, except that, as to the compass, I could
make him understand very little of that. On the other hand,
as there was very little cloudy weather, and seldom or never
any fogs in those parts, there was the less occasion for a com-
pass, seeing the stars were always to be seen by night, and
the shore by day, except in the rainy seasons, and then no-
body cared to stir abroad, either by land or sea.

1 was now entered on the seven-and-twentieth year of my
captivity in this place; though the three last years that I had
this creature with me ought rather to be left out of the account.
my habitation being quite of another kind than in all the rest
of the time. I kept the anniversary of my landing here with
the same thankfulness to God for his mercies as at first; and
if I had such cause of acknowledgment. at first, I had much
more so now, having such additional testimonies of the care
of Providence over me, and the great hopes I had of being ef-
fectually and speedily delivered; for I had an invincible im-
pression upon my thoughts that my deliverance was at hand,
and that [should not be another year in this place. I went
on, however, with my husbandry; digging, planting, and
fencing, as usual. J gathered and cured my grapes, and did
every necessary thing as before.

The rainy season was, in the mean time, upon me, when I
kept more within doors than at other times. We had stowed
our new vessel as secure as we could, bringing her up into the
creek, where, as I said in the beginning, I Tanded_ my rafts
from the ship; and hauling her up to the shore, at high-wafer
mark, I made my man Friday dig a little dock, just big enough
to hold her, and just deep enough to give her water enough to
float in; and then, when the tide was out, we made a strong
dam across the end of it, to keep the water out; and so she
lay dry, as to the tide, from the sea; and to keep the rain off,172 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

we laid a great many boughs of trees, so thick that she was as
well thatched as a house; and thus we waited for the months
of November and December, in which I designed to make my
adventure. ;

When the settled season began to come In, as the thought of
my design returned with the fair weather, Twas re aring daily
for the voyage ; and the first thing I did was to ay oy a a
quantity of provisions, being the stores for our Voy age a 4
tended, in a week or a fortnight’s time, to open the dock an
launch out our boat. I was busy one morning upon something
of this kind, when I called to Friday, and bid him go to the sea-
shore and see if he could find a turtle, or tortoise, a thing which
we generally got once a week, for the sake of the eggs as well
asthe flesh. Friday had not been long gone, when he came run-
ning back, and flew over my outer wall, or fence, like one that
felt not the ground, or the steps he set his feet on; and before
[ had time to speak to him, he cries out to me, ‘“‘O master!
O master! O sorrow! O bad!”—‘* What’s the matter, Fri-
day?” saysI. ‘‘O yonder, there,” says he, ‘‘ one, two, three
canoe; one, two, three!”? By this way of speaking, I con-
cluded there were six; but, on inquiry, I found it was but
three. ‘‘ Well, Friday,’ says I, ‘do not be frightened.”
So I heartened him up as well as I could: however, 1 saw the

yoor fellow was most terribly scared ; for nothing ran in his
head but that they were come to look for him, and would cut
him in pieces, and eat him; and the poor fellow trembled so,
that I scarce knew what to do with him. I comforted him as
well as I could, and told him I was in as much danger as he,
and that they would eat me as well as him. ‘ But,” says I,
‘Friday, we must resolve to fight them. Can you fight, Fri-
day ?”’—‘‘ Me shoot,” says he; ‘‘ but there come many great
number.’—‘‘ No matter for that,’ said I, again; ‘‘ our guns
will fright them that we do not kill.” Sol asked him whether,
if I resolved to defend him, he would defend me, and stand by
me, and do just as I bid him. ‘ He said, ‘‘ Me die when you
bid die, master.”’? So I went and fetched a good dram of rum
and gave him; for I had been so good a husband of my rum,
that I had a great deal left. When he drank it, I made him
take the two fowling-pieces, which we always carried, and
loaded them with large swan-shot, as big as small pistol-bullets :
then I took four muskets, and loaded them with two slugs and
five small bullets each; and my two pistols I loaded with a
brace of bullets each: I hung my great sword, as usual, naked
by my side, and gave Friday his hatchet. When I had thus
prepared myself, I took my perspective-glass, and went up to
the side of the hill, to see what I could discover ; and I found
quickly, by my glass, that there were one-and-twenty savages,
three prisoners, and three canoes; and that their whole busi-
ness seemed to be the triumphant banquet upon these threeROBINSON CRUSOE. 173

human bodies; a barbarous feast indeed! but nothing more
than, as I had observed, was usual with them. I observed,
also, that they were landed, not where they had done when
Friday made his escape, but nearer to my creek; where the
shore was low, and where a thick wood came almost close
down to the sea. This, with the abhorrence of the inhuman
errand these wretches came about, filled me with such indig-
nation, that I came down again to Friday, and told him I was
resolved to go down to them, and kill them all; and asked him
if he would stand by me. He had now got over his fright, and
his spirits. being a little raised with the dram I had given him,
he was very cheerful, and told me, as before, he would die
when I bid die.

In this fit of fury, I took and divided the arms which I had
charged, as before, between us: I gave Friday one pistol to
stick in his girdle, and three guns upon his shoulder; and I
took one pistol, and the other three guns, myself; and in this
posture we marched out. I took a‘small bottle of rum in my
pores and gave Friday a large bag with more powder and

ullets; and,-as to orders, I charged him to keep close behind
me, and not to stir, or shoot, or do any thing, till I bid him;
and, in the mean time, not to speak a word. In this posture,
I fetched a compass to my right hand of near a mile, as well
to get over the creek as to get into the wood, so that I might
come within shot of them before I should be discovered, which
I had seen, by my glass, it was easy to do.

While I was making this march, my former thoughts re-
turning, I began to abate my resolution: Ido not mean that
I entertained any fear of their number; for, as they were
naked, unarmed wretches, it is certain I was superior to them ;
nay, though I had been alone. But it occurred to my
thoughts, what call, what occasion, much less what necessity
I was in, to go and dip my hands in blood, to attack people
who had neither done or intended me any wrong; who, as
to me, were innocent, and whose barbarous customs were their
own disaster; being, in them, a token indeed of God’s having,
left them, with the other nations of that part of the world, to
such stupidity, and to such inhuman courses; but did not call
me to take upon me to be a judge of their actions, much less
an executioner of his justice; that, whenever he thought fit,
he would take the cause into his own hands, and, by national
vengeance, punish them as a people, for national crimes; but
that, in the mean time, it was none of my business; that it
was true, Friday might justify it, because he was a declared
enemy, and in a state of war with those very particular people,
and it was lawful for him to attack them; but I could not say
the same with respect to myself. These things were so warm-
ly pressed upon my thoughts all the way as I went, that it
resolved I would only go and place myself near them, that I

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“had just sent the other two to butcher the poor Christian, ana

174 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

might observe their barbarous feast, and that I would act then
as God should direct; but that, unless something offered that
was more a call to me than yet I knew of, I would not meddle
with them. «# :

With this resolution I entered the wood; and, with all pos-
sible wariness and silence, Friday following close at my
heels, I marched till { came to the skirt of the wood, on the
side which was next to them, only that one corner of the wood
lay between me and them. Here I called softly to Friday, and
snowing him a great tree, which was just at the corner of the
wood, f bade him go to the tree, and bring me word if he
coud see there plainly what they were dog. He did so;
and came immediately back to me, and told me they might
be plainly viewed there; that they were all about their fire,
eating the flesh of one of their -prisoners, and that another lay
bound upon the sand, a little from them, which, he said, they
would kill next, and which fired the very soul within me. He
told me it was not one of their nation, but one of the bearded
men he had told me of, that came to their country in the boat.
1 was filled with horror at the very naming the white bearded
man; and, going to the tree, I saw plainly, by my glass, a
white man, who Tay upon the beach of the sea, with his hands
and his feet tied with flags, or things like rushes, and that he
was a European, and had clothes on.

There was another tree, anda little thicket beyond it
about fifty yards nearer to them than the place where | was,
which, by going a little way about, | saw I might come at undis-
covered, and that then I should be within half a shot of them:
so I withheld my passion, though I was indeed enraged to the
highest degree; and going back about twenty paces, I got be-
hind some bushes, which held all the way till [ came to the
other tree; and then came to a little rising ground, which
gave me a full view of them, at the distance of about eighty
yards.

I had now not a moment to lose, for nineteen of the dreadfal
wretches sat upon the ground, all close huddled together, and

bring him, perhaps limb by limb, to their fire; and they were
stooping down to untie the bands at his feet. I turned to Fri-
day— Now, Friday,” said I, “do as I bid thee.” Friday
said he would. “Then, Friday,” says I, ‘do exactly as you
see me do; fail in nothing.’”’ SoI set down one of the mus-
kets and the fowling-piece upon the ground, and Friday did
the like by his; and with the other musket I took my aim at
the savages, bidding him to do the like: then asking him if he
was ready, he said, ‘‘ Yes.” “Then fire at them,” said I;
and ihe same moment I fired also.

Friday took his aim so much better than I, that on the side
that he shot, he killed two of them, and wounded three more ;
and on my side, I killed one and wounded two. They were,ROBINSON CRUSOE.

you may be sure, in a dreadful consternation ; and all of them
who were not hurt jumped upon their feet, but did not imme-
diately know which way to run, or which way to look, for
they knew not from whence their destruction came. Friday
kept his eyes close upon me, that, as I had bid him, he might
observe what I did; so, as soon as the first shot was made, |
threw down the piece, and took up the fowling-piece, and
Friday did the like: he saw me cock and present; he did the
same again. ‘“‘ Are you ready, Friday?” said I1.—‘ Yes,”
says he. <‘‘ Let fly, then,” says I, “‘in the name of God!”
and with that, I fired again among the amazed wretches, and
so did Friday ; and as our pieces were now loaden with what
I called swan-shot, or small pistol-bullets, we found only two
drop, but so many were wounded, that they ran about yellin
and screaming like mad creatures, all bloody, and most o
them Tiedt wounded, whereof three more fell quickly
after, though not quite dead.

“ Now, Friday,” says I, laying down the discharged pieces,
and taking up the musket which was yet loaden, “ follow me ;”
which he aid with a great deal of courage; upon which I
rushed out of the wood, and showed myself, and Friday close
at my foot. As soon as I perceived they saw me, | shouted as
loud as I could, and bade Friday do so too; and running as
fast as I could which, by the way, was not very fast, being176 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

loaded with arms as I was, I made directly towards the poor
victim, who was, as I said, lying upon the beach, or shore, be-
tween the place where they sat and the sea. ‘The two butch-
ers, who were just going to work with him, had left him at the
surprise of our first fire, and fled in a terrible fright to the sea-
side, and had jumped into a canoe, and three more of the rest
made the same way. I turned to Friday, and bade him step
forwards, and fire at them: he understood me immediately,
and running about forty yards, to be nearer them, he shot at
them, and I thought he had killed them all, for I saw them all
fall of a heap into the boat, though I saw two of them up again
quickly : however, he killed two of them, and wounded the
third so, that he lay down in the bottom of the boat as if he
had been dead.

While my man Friday fired at them, | pulled out my knife

and cut the flags that bound the poor victim; and loosing his
hands and feet, I lifted him up, and asked hmm, in the Portu-
guese tongue, what he was. He answered in Latin, ‘‘ Chris-
tlanus;’”’ but was so weak and faint that he could scarce stand
or speak. I took my bottle out of my pocket, and gave it him,
making signs that he should drink, which he did; and I gave
him a piece of bread, which he ate. Then [ asked him what
countryman he was; and he said, Espagniole; and being a
little recovered, let me know, by all the signs he could possibly
make, how much he was in my debt for his deliverance
‘Seignior,” said 1, with as much Spanish as I could make
up, “ we will talk afterwards, but we must fight now; if you
have any strength left, take this pistol and sword, and lay
about you.” He took them very thankfully; and no sooner
had he the arms in his hands, but, as if they had put new
yigor into him, he flew upon his murderers like a fury, and
had cut two of them in pieces in an instant; for the truth is,
as the whole was a surprise to them, so the poor creatures
were so much frightened with the noise of our pieces, that
they fell down for mere amazement and fear, and had no
more power to attempt their own escape, than their flesh had
to resist our shot; and that was*the case with those five that
I'riday shot at in the boat; for as three of them fell with the
hurt they received, so the other two fell with the fright.

I kept my piece in my hand still without firing, being will-
ing to keep my charge ready, because I had given the Span-
iard my pistol and sword; so I called to Friday, and bade him
run up to the tree fram whence we first fired, and. fetch the
arms which lay there that had been discharged, which he did
with great swiftness; and then, giving bim my musket, I sat
down myself to load all the rest again, and bade them come to
me when they wanted. While 1 was loading these pieces,
there happened a fierce engagement between the Spaniard
and one of the savages, who made at him with one of their
great wooden swords the same-like weapon that was to haveROBINSON CRUSOR. 177

killed him before, if I had not prevented it. The Spaniard,
who was as bold and brave as could be imagined, though weak,
had fought this Indian a good while, and had cut him two
great wounds on his head; but the savage, beg a stout, lusty
fellow, closing in with him, had thrown him down, being faint,
and was wringing my sword out of his hand; when the Span-
iard, though undermost, wisely quitting the sword, drew the
piste from his girdle, shot the savage through the body, and
<illed him upon the spot, before I (who was running to help
him) could come near him.

Friday, being now left to his liberty, pursued the flying
wretches, with no weapon in his hand but his hatchet; and
with that he despatched those three, who, as I said before
were wounded at first, and fallen, and all the rest he coule
come up with; and the Spaniard coming to me for a gun, }
gave him one of the feats yieces, with which he pursued

two of the savages, and wounded them both; but, as he was
not able to run, they both got from him into the wood, where
Friday pursued them, and killed one of them, but the other was
too nimble for him; and though he was wounded, yet had
plunged himself into the sea, and swam, with all his might,
off to those two who were left in the canoe, which three in the
canoe, with one wounded, that we knew not whether he died

or no, were all that escaped our hands of one and twenty. The
account of the whole is as follows: three killed at our first shot
from the tree; two killed at the next shot ; two killed by Friday
in the boat; two killed by Friday of those at first wounded ;
one killed by Friday in the wood; three killed by the Spaniard ,
four killed, being found dropped here and there, of their wounds,
or killed by Friday in his chase of them; four escaped in the
boat, whereof one wounded, if not dead—T wenty-one in all,

Those that were in the canoe worked hard to get out of gun-
shot ; and though Friday made two or three shots at them, [did
not find that he hit any of them. Friday would fain have had
me take one of their canoes, and pursue them; and, indeed, 1
was very anxious about their escape, lest, carrying the news
home to their people, they should come back perhaps with
two or three hundred of the canoes, and devour us by mere
multitude; so | consented to pursue them by sea, and running
to one of their canoes, 1 jumped in, and bade Friday follow
me; but when I was in the canoe, I was surprised to find
another poor creature lie there bound hand and foot, as the
Spaniard was, for the slaughter, and almost dead with fear,
not knowing what was the matter; for he had not been able
to look up over the side of the boat, he was tied so hard neck
and heels, and had been tied so long, that he had really but
little life in him.

I immediately cut the twisted flags or rushes, which they
bad bound him with, and would have helped him up; but heSAO SNe

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ROBINSON CRUSOE,

 

178

could not stand or speak, but groaned most piteously, beliey-
ing, 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 cut 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, sung; then cried again,
wrung his hands, beat his own face and head; and then sung
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 sav-
age 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
tum 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 got 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 sup-
pose 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 1 could no find in my heart to take him off for some time ;
but after I thought he could leave hima little, L called him tn
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, “} one; ugly dog
eat all up self.” Ithen 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
rin away, as if he had been bewitched, he ran at such a rateROBINSON CRUSOR. 179

(for he was the swiftest fellow on his feet that ever I saw): Isay,
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 [
saw him come back again, though not so-fast as he went; and
as he came nearer, | found his pace slacker, because he had
something in his hand. When he came wp 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 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, [ took a little
sup of it. The water revived his father more than all the rum
or spirits I had given him, for he was just fainting with thirst.

When his father had drank, 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, te 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 te
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 min-
utes, 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 quite up 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 pres-
ently 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 our180 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

creek, and leaving them in the boat, ran away fo fetch the oth-
er canoe. As he passed me, ! spoke to him, and asked hins
whither he went. He told me, ‘‘Go fetch more boat:” so
away he went like the wind, for sure never man or horse rau
like him; and he had the other cance in the creek almost as
soon as { got to it by Jand; so he wafted me over, and then
went to hefp our mew guests out of the boat, which he did ;
but they were neither of them able to walk, so that poor I'ri-
day knew not what to do.

To remedy this, I went to work mm 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 a hand-barrow to lay thes or,
and Friday and.! carried them both up togetiier upou
between us.

But when we got them to the outside of our wall, or fortifi-
cation, we were at a worse loss than before, for it was impos-
sible to get them over, and I was resolved not to break 1
down: so I set to work again; and Friday and I, wm about
two hours’ time, made a very handsome tent, covered with old
sails, and above that with boughs of trees, being im the space
without our outward fence, and between that and the grove of
young wood which I had platted; 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 likea king I looked. First of all, the whole country
was my own mere property, so that [ 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, [ al-
lowed liberty of conscience throughout my dominions :—But
this is by the way.

As soon as [ had secured my two weak rescued prisoners,
and given them shelter, and a place to rest them upon, I be-
gan 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 smal.
pieces, I set Friday to work to boiling and stewing, and made
them a very good dish, I assure you, of flesh and broth, hav-
ing put some barley and rice also into the broth; and as [
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 aROBINSON CRUSOE. 18i

table there for them, I sat down, and ate my 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 lan-
guage of the savages pretty well.

Afier we had dined, or rather supped, I ordered Friday to
take one of the canoes, and go and fetch our muskets ané
other fire-arms, which, for want of time, we had left upon the
pave of battle; and, the next day, I ordered him to go and

ury 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 {
knew were pretty much, and which I could not think of doing
myself; nay, I could not bear to see them, if I went that way 5
all which he punctually performed, and effaced the very ap-
pearance 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.

1 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 sav-
ages 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, ag 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 ery 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 under-
stood 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 en-
chanted island would be destroyed with fire from the gods.
This, however, 1 knew not; and therefore was under contin-
ual apprehensions for a good while, and kept always upon my
guard, with all my army; for, as there were now four of us,
f would have ventured upon a hundred of them, fairly in the
open field, at any time.182 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
In a little time, however, no more canoes appearing, the
fear of their coming wore off; and I began to take my for-
mer thoughts of a voyage to the main into consideration ; be-
ing likewise assured, by Friday’s father, that I might depend
upon good usage from their nation, on his account, if L would
zo. But my thoughts were a little suspended when I had
a serious discourse with the Spaniard, and when I understood
that there were sixteen more of his countrymen and Portu-
guese, who, having been cast away, and made their escape to
that side, lived there at peace, indeed, with the savages, but
were very sore put to it for necessaries, and indeed for life. I
asked him all the particulars of their voyage, and found they
were a Spanish ship, bound from the Rio de ‘la Plata to the
Havanna, being directed to leave their loading there, which
was chiefly hides and silver, and to bring back what European
goods they could meet with there; that they had five Portu-
gzuese seamen on board, whom they took out of another wreck ;
that five of their own men were drowned, when first the ship was
lost, and that these escaped, through infinite dangers and haz-
ards, and arrived, almost starved, on the cannibal coast, where
they expected to have been devoured every moment. He
told me they had some arms with them, but they were per-
fectly useless, for that they had neither powder nor ball, the
washing of the sea having spoiled all their powder, but.a little,
which they used, at their first landing, to provide themselves
some food.
I asked him what he thought would become of them there,

‘and if they had formed any design of making their escape.

He said they had many consultations about it; but that having
neither vessel, nor tools to build, one, nor provisions of any
kind, their councils always ended in tears and despair. . I
asked him how he thought they would receive a proposal from
me, which might tend towards an escape;-and whether, if
they were all here, it might not be done. I told him with
freedom, I feared mostly their treachery and ill usage of me,
if [ put my life in their hands; for that gratitude was no in-
herent virtue in the nature of man, nor did men always square
their dealings by the obligations they. had received, so much
as they did by the advantages they expected. I told him it
would be very hard that I should be the instrument of their
deliverance, and that they should afterwards make me their
pees in New Spain, where an Englishman was certain to
e made a sacrifice, what necessity or what accident soever
brought him thither; and that I had rather be delivered up to
the savages, and be devoured alive, than fall into the merciless
claws of the priests, and be carried into the inquisition.
added, that otherwise I was persuaded, if they were all here,
we might, with so many hands, builda bark large enough to
carry us all away, either to the Brazils, southward, or to theROBINSON CRUSOE. 183
islands, or Spanish coast, northward; but that if, in requital,
they should, when I had put weapons into their hands, carry me
by force among their own people, I might be ill used for my
kindness to them, and make my case worse than it was before.

He answered, with a great deal of candor and ingenuous-
ness, that their condition was so miserable, and that they were
so sensible of it, that, he believed, they would abhor the
thought of using any man unkindly that should contribute to
their deliverance; and that if 1 pleased, he would go to them
with the old man, and discourse with them about it, and return
again, and bring me their answer; that he would make con-
ditions with them upon. their solemn oath, that they should be
absolutely under my leading, as their commander and captain ,
and that they should swear upon the holy sacraments and Gos-
pel, to be true to me, and go to such Christian country as that 1
should agree to, and no other, and to be directed wholly and abso-
lutely by my orders, till they were landed safely in such coun-
try as I intended; and that he would bring a contract from
them, under their hands, for that purpose. Then he told me
he would first swear to me himself, that he would never stir
from me as long as he lived, till I gave him orders; and that
he would take my side to the last drop of his blood, if there
should happen the least breach of faith among his countrymen.
He told me they were all of them very civil, honest men, and
they were under the greatest distress imaginable, having
neither weapons or clothes, nor any food, but at the mercy
and discretion of the savages; out of all hopes of ever return-
ing to their own country; and that he was sure, if I would
undertake their relief, they would live and die by me.

Upon these assurances, I resolved to venture to relieve
them, if possible, and to send the old savage and this Span-
iard over to them to treat. But when we had got all things in
readiness to go, the Spaniard himself started an objection,
which had so much prudence in it on one hand, and so much
sincerity on the other hand, that I could not but be very well
satisfied in it; and, by his advice, put off the deliverance of
his comrades for at least half a year. The case was thus:
He had been with us now about a month, during which time
I had let him see in what manner I had provided, with the
assistance of Providence, for my support; and he saw evi-
dently what stock of corn and rice [ had laid up; which,
though it was more than sufficient for myself, yet it was not
sufficient, without good husbandry, for my family, now it was
increased to four; but much less would it be sufficient if his
countrymen, who-were, as he said,ssixteen, still alive, should
come over; and, least of all, would it be sufficient to victual
our vessel, if we should build one, for a voyage to any of the
Christian colonies of America; so he told me he thought it
would be more advisable to let him and the other two dig andTa a

UAC IDSMRN aD alsa

184 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

cultivate some more land, as much as I could spare seed to
sow, and that we should wait another harvest, that we might
have a supply of corn for his countrymen, when they should
come; for want might be a temptation to them to disagree, or
not to think themselves delivered, otherwise than out of one
difficulty into another. ‘‘ You know,”’ says he, ‘‘the children
of Israel, though they rejoiced at first for their being delivered
out of Egypt, yet rebelled even against God himself, that
delivered them, when they came to want bread in the wil-
derness.”’

His caution was so seasonable, and his advice so good, that
I could not but be very well pleased with his proposal, as well
as I was satisfied with his fidelity: so we fell to digging, all
four of us, as well as the wooden tools we were furnished with
permitted ; and in about a month’s time, by the end of which
it was seed-time, we had got as much land cured and trimmed
up as we sowed two-and-twenty bushels of barley on, and six-
teen jars of rice; which was, 1n short, all the seed we had to
spare ; nor, indeed, did we leave ourselves barley sufficient for
our own food, for the six months that we had to expect our
crop ; that is to say, reckoning from the time we set our seed
aside for sowing ; for it 1s not to be supposed it is six months
in the ground in that country.

Having now society enough, and our number being sufficient
to put us out of fear of the savages, if they had come (unless
their number had been very great), we went freely all over the
island, whenever we found occasion; and as here we had our
escape or deliverance upon our thoughts, it was impossible, at
least for me, to have the means of it out of mine. For this
purpose, [ marked out several trees which I thought fit for our
work, and I set Friday and his father to cutting them down;
and then I caused the Spaniard, to whom I imparted my thoughts
on that affair, to oversee and direct their work. I showed
them with what indefatigable pains I had hewed a large tree
into single planks, and I caused them to do the like, till they
had made about a dozen large planks of good oak, near two
feet. broad, thirty-five feet long, and from two inches to. four
inches thick: what prodigious labor it took up, any one may
imagine.

At the same time, I contrived to increase my little Nock
of tame goats as much as I could; and, for this purpose, [
made Friday and the Spaniard go out one day, arid myself
with Friday the next day (for we took our turns), and by
this means we got about twenty young kids to breed up with
the rest; for whenever we shot the dam, we saved the kids,
and added them to our flock. But above all, the season for
curing the grapes coming on, I caused such a prodigious quan-
tity to be hung up in the sun, that, I believe, nad we been at
Alicant, where the raisins of the sun are cured, we could haveROBINSON CRUSOE. 185

filled sixty or eighty barrels; and these, with our bread, was a
great part of our food, and was very good living too, I assure
you, for it is exceeding nourishing.

It was now harvest, and our crop in good order: it was not
the most plentiful increase I had seen in the island, but, how-
ever, it was enough to answer our end; for from twenty-two
bushels of barley we brought in and threshed out above two
hundred and twenty bushels, and the like in proportion of the
rice ; which was store enough for our food to the next harvest,
though all the sixteen Spaniards had been on shore with me ;
or, if we had been ready for a voyage, it would very plentifully
have victualled our ship to have carried us to any part of the
world, that is to say, any part of America. When we had thus
housed and secured our magazine of corn, we fell to work to
make more wicker-ware, viz. great baskets, in which we kept
it; and the Spaniard was very handy and dextrous at this part,
and often blamed me that I did not make some things for de-
fence of this kind of work: but I saw no need of it.

And now, having a full supply of food for all the guests I
expected, I gave the Spaniard leave to go over to the main, to
see what he could do with those he had left behind them there.
I gave him a strict charge not to bring any man with him who
would not first swear, in the presence of himself and the old
savage, that he would no way injure, fight with, or attack the
nerson he should find in the island, who was so kind as to send
for them in order to their deliverance ; -but that they would stand
by him, and defend him against all such attempts, and wherever
they went, would be entirely under and subjected to his com-
mand; and that this should be put in writing, and signed with
their hands. How they were to have done this, when I knew
they had neither pen nor ink, was a question which we never
asked. Under these instructions, the Spaniard and the old
savage, the father of Friday, went away in one of the canoes
which they might be said to come in, or rather were brought in,
when they came as prisoners to be devoured by the savages.
gave each of them a musket, with a firelock on it, and about
eight charges of powder and ball, charging them to be very
good husbands of both, and not to use either of them but
upon urgent occasions.

This was a cheerful work, being the first measures used by
me, in view of my deliverance, for now twenty-seven years and
some days. I gave them provisions of bread, and of dried
grapes, sufficient for themselves for many days, and sufficient
for all the Spaniards for about eight days time; and wishing
them a good voyage, I saw them go; agreeing with them about
a signal they should hang out at their return, by which {
should know them again, when they came back, at a distance,
before they came on shore. They went away witha fair gale,
on the day that the moon was at full, by my account, in the
month of October ; but as for an exact reckoning of days, after186 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
I had once lost it, ] could never recover it again; nor had I
kept even the number of years so punctually as to be sure I
was right; though, as it proved, when I afterwards examined
my account, I found I had kept a true reckoning of years.

Tt was no less than eight days I had waited for them, when
a strange and unforeseen accident intervened, of which the
like has not perhaps been heard of in history. I was fast
asleep in my hutch one morning, when my man Friday came
running in to me, and called aloud, ‘“‘ Master, master, they are
come, they are come!” I jumped up, and, regardless of
danger, I went out as soon as i could get my clothes on,
through my little grove, which, by the way, was by this time
grown to be a very thick wood; I say, regardless of danger, 1
went without my arms (which was not my custom to do): but
I was surprised, when, turning my eyes-to the sea, I presently
saw a boat at about a league and a half distance, standing in
for the shore, with a shoulder-of-mutton sail, as they call.it,
and the wind blowing pretty fair to bring them in; also I ob-
served presently, that they did not come from that side which
the shore lay on, but from the southernmost end of the island.
Upon this I called Friday in, and bade him lie close; for these
were not the people we looked for, and that we might not
know yet whether they were friends or enemies. In the next
place I went in to fetch my perspective-glass, to see what I
could make of them ; and, having taken the ladder out, I climbed
up to the top of the hill, as I used to do when I was apprehen-
sive of any thing, and to take my view the plainer, without
being discovered. I had scarce set my foot upon the lil,
when my eye plainly discovered a ship lying at an anchor, a
about two leagues and a half distance from me, 8. 8S. E., bu
not above a league and a half from the shore. By my obsea
vation, it appeared plainly to be an English ship, and the boa
appeared to be an English long-boat.

I cannot express the confusion I was in; though the joy of
seeing a ship, and one that I had reason to believe was manned
by my own countrymen, and consequently friends, was such
as I cannot describe; but yet | had some secret doubts hung
about me,—I cannot tell from whence they came,—bidding me
keep upon my guard. In the first place, it occurred to me
to consider what business an English ship could have in that
part of the world, since it was not the way to or from any part
of the world where the English had any traffic; and I knew
there had been no storms to drive them in there, as in distress ;
and that if they were really English, it was most probable that
they were here upon no good design; and that [had better con-
tinue as I was, than fall into the hands of thieves and murderers.

Let no man despise the secret hints and notices of danger,
which sometimes are given him when he may think there is
ne possibility of its being real. That such hints and neucesROBINSON CRUSOE. 187

are given us, I believe few that have made any observations
of things can deny; that they are certain discoveries of an in-
visible world, and a converse of spirits; we cannot doubt; and
if the tendency of them seems to be to warn us of danger, why
should we not suppose they are from some friendly. agent
(whether supreme, or inferior and subordinate, is not the
question), and that they are given for our good?

The present question abundantly confirms. me in the jus-
tice of this reasoning; for had I not been made cautious. by.
this secret admonition, come it from whence it will, I had ‘been ~
undone inevitably, and in a far worse condition than before,
as you will see presently. I had not kept myself long in this
Hoatine, but I saw the boat draw near the shore, as if they
ooked for a creek to thrust in at, for the convenience of land-
ing; however, as they did not come quite far enough, they did
not see the little inlet where I formerly landed my rafts, but run
their boat on shore upon the beach, at about half a mile from me,
which was very happy for me; for otherwise they would have
landed just at my door, as I may say, and would soon have
beaten me out of my castle, and perhaps have plundered me
of all I had. When they were on shore, I was fully satished
they were Englishmen, at least most of them; one or two I
thought were Dutch, but it did not prove so: there were in all
eleven men, whereof three of them I found were unarmed,
and, as I thought, bound; and when the first four or five of
them were jumped on shore, they took those three out of the
boat, as prisoners. one of the three I could perceive using the
most passionate gestures of entreaty, affliction, and despair,
even to a kind of extravagance; the other two, I could per-
ceive, lifted up their hands sometimes, and appeared _con-
cerned, indeed, but not to such a degree as the first. I was
perfectly confounded at the sight, and’ knew not what the
meaning of it should be. Friday called out to me in English,
as well as he could, ‘“‘O master! you see English mans eat
prisoner as well as savage mans.”—‘‘ Why, Friday,” says I,
*< do you think they are going to eat them then?”—“ Yes,”
says Friday, “‘ they will eat them.”—“ No, no,” says I, “ Fri-
day ; I am afraid they will murder them, indeed, but you may
be sure they will not eat them.”

All this while I had no thought of what the matter really
was, but stood trembling with the horror of the sight, expect-
ing every moment when the three prisoners should be killed;
nay, once I saw one of the villains lift up his arm with a great
cutlass, as the seamen call it, or sword, to strike one of the
poor men; and I expected to see him fall every moment; at
which all the blood in my body seemed to run chill in my
veins. I wished heartily now for my Spaniard, and the sav-
age that was gone with him, or that I had any way to have
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cued the three men, for I saw no fire-arms they had among
them; but it fell out to my mind another way. After I ha

observed the outrageous usage of the three men by the inso-
lent seamen, I observed the fellows run scattering about the
island, as if they wanted to see the country. I observed that
the three other men had liberty to go also where they pleased ;
but they sat down all three upon the ground, very pensive,
and looked like men in despair. This put me in mind of the
first time when I came on shore, and began to look about me;
how I gave myself over for lost; how wildly I looked round
me; what dreadful apprehensions I had; and how I lodged
in the tree all night, for fear of being devoured by wild beasts.
As I knew nothing, that night, of the supply I was to receive
by the providential driving of the ship nearer the land by the
storms and tide, by which I have since been so long nourished
and supported; so these three poor desolate men knew noth-
ing how certain of deliverance and supply they were, how
near it was to them, and how effectually and really they were
in a condition of safety, at the same time that they thought
themselves lost, and their case desperate. So little do we see
before us in the world, and so much reason have we to depend
cheerfully upon the great Maker of the world, that he does
not leave his creatures so absolutely destitute, but that, in the
worst circumstances, they have always something to be thank-
ful for, and sometimes are nearer their deliverance than theyROBINSON CRUSOE. 189

| imagine; nay, are even brought to their deliverance by the

means by which they seem to be brought to their destruction.

It was just at the top of high water when these people came
on shore; and partly while they rambled about to see what
kind of a place they were in, they had carelessly staid till the tide
was spent, and the water was ebbed considerably away, leav-
ing their boat aground. They had left two men in the boat,
who, as I found afterwards, having drank a little too much
brandy, fell asleep; however, one of them waking a little
sooner than the other, and finding the boat too fast aground
for him to stir it, hallooed out for the rest, who were straggling
about; upon which they all soon came to the boat: but it was
past all their strength to launch her, the boat being very heavy,
and the shore on that side being a soft, oozy sand, almost like
a quicksand. In this condition, like true seamen, who are
perhaps the least of all mankind given to forethought, they
gave it over, and away they strolled about the country again;
and I heard-one of them say aloud to another, calling them off
from the boat, ‘“‘ Why, let her alone, Jack, can’t you! she’ll
float next tide:”’ by which I was fully confirmed in the main
inquiry of what countrymen they were. All this while I kept
myself very close, not once daring to stir out of my castle, any
farther than to my place of observation, near the top of the
hill; and very glad twas to think how well it was fortified. 1
knew it was no less than ten hours before the boat could float
again, and by that time it would be dark, and I might be
at more liberty to see their motions, and to hear their dis-
course, if they had any. Inthe mean time, I fitted myself up for
a battle, as before (though with more caution), knowing I had
to do with another kind of enemy than I had at first. I or-
dered Friday also, whom J had made an excellent marksman
with his gun, to load_himself with arms. I took myself two
fowling-pieces, and I gave him three muskets. My figure,
indeed, was very fierce: I had my formidable goat-skin coat
on, with the great cap I have mentioned, a naked sword by
my side, two pistols in my belt, and a gun upon each shoulder.

It was my design, as I said above, not to have made any at
tempt till it was dark ; but about two o'clock, being the heat
of the day, I found that, in short, they were all gone strag-
gling into the woods, and, as I thought, laid down to sleep.
he three poor distressed men, too anxious for their condition
to get any sleep, were, however, sat down under the shelter
of a great tree, at about a quarter of a mile from me, and, as
I thought, out of sight of any of the rest. Upon this I resolved
to discover myself to them, and learn something of their con-
dition. Immediately I marched in the figure as above, my
man Friday at a good distance behind me, as formidable for
his arms as 1, but not making quite so staring a spectre-like
figure as I did. I came as near them undiscovered as I could,190 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
and then, before any of them saw me, I called aloud to them
in Spanish, ‘What are ye, gentlemen?” They started up
at the noise; but were ten times more confounded when they
saw me,.and the uncouth figure that I made. T’hey made no
answer at all, but I thought I perceived them just going to fly
from me, when I spoke to them in English: ‘‘ Gentlemen,”
said I, ‘do not be surprised at me: perhaps you may have a
friend near, when you did not expect it.’””—‘‘ He must be sent
directly from heaven, then,” said one of them very gravely to
me, and-pulling off his hat at the same time to me; “ for our
condition is past the help of man.”—‘‘ All help is from
Heaven, sir,” said I: ‘‘ but can you put a stranger in the way
how to help you? for you seem to be in some great distress.
I saw you when you landed; and when you seemed to make
application to the brutes that came with you, I saw one of
them lift up his sword to kill you.”

The poor man, with tears running down his face, and
trembling, looking like one astonished, returned, ‘“‘ Am I talk-
ing to God or man? Is it a real man or an angel ?’’—‘ Be in
no fear about that, sir,” said 1; “‘if God had sent an angel to
relieve you, he would have come better clothed, and armed
after another manner than you see me: pray lay aside your
fears; I am a man, an Englishman, and disposed to assist
you; you see | have one servant only ; we have arms and am-
munition; tell us freely, can we serve you? What is your
case ?””—** Our case,” said he, “sir, is too long to tell you,
while our murderers are so near us: but, in short, sir, I was
commander of that ship; my men have mutinied against me;
they have been hardly prevailed on not to murder me; and at
last have set me on shore in this desolate place, with these two
men with me, one my mate, the other a passenger, where we
expected to perish, believing the place to be uninhabited, and
know not yet what to think of it.’—*‘ Where are these
brutes, your enemies?” said I: ‘do you know where they
are gone ?”’—‘‘'T’here they lie, sir,” said he, pointing to a
thicket of trees; ‘‘ my heart trembles for fear they have seen
us, and heard you speak; if they have, they will certainly
murder us sf ="6 Blave they any fire-arms?” said I. He
answered, ‘‘’hey had only two pieces, one of which they
left in the boat.”’ ‘* Well then,” said I, “leave the rest to me;
I see they are all asleep; it is an easy thing to kill them all : but
shall we rather take them prisoners?” He told me there
were two desperate villains among them, that it was scarce safe
to show any mercy to; but if they were secured, he believed
all the rest would return to their duty. I asked him which
they were. He told me he could not at that distance distin-
eish them, but he would obey my orders in any thing I would

irect. “* Well,” says I, ‘‘let us retreat out of their view or
hearing, lest they awake, and we will resolve further.’ SoROBINSON CRUSOE. 19]

they willingly went back with me, till the woods covered us
from them.

“‘Look you, siz,” said I, ‘‘if 1 venture upon your deliver-
ance, are you willing to make two conditions with me?” He
anticipated my proposals, by telling me, that both he and the
ship, if recovered, should be wholly directed and commanded
by me in every thing; and if the ship was not recovered, he
would live and die with me in what part of the world soever
I would send him; and the two other men said the same.
“ Well,”. says I, ‘my conditions are but two: first, That
while you stay in this island with me, you will not pretend ta
any authority here ; and if I put arms in your hands, you will,
upon all occasions, give them up to me, and do no prejudice
to me or mine upon this island; and, in the mean time, be
governed by my orders: secondly, That if the ship is, or may
be recovered, you will carry me and my man to England,
passage free.”

He gave me all the assurances that the invention or faith
of man could devise, that he would comply with these most
reasonable demands; and, besides, would owe his life to me,
and acknowledge it upon all occasions, as long as he lived.
‘¢ Well then,”’ said I, ‘‘ here are three muskets for you, with
powder and ball: tell me next what you think is proper to be
done.”? He showed all the testimonies of his gratitude that he
was able, but offered to be wholly guided by me. I told him I
thought it was hard venturing any thing; but the best method
{ could think of was to fire upon them at once, as they lay, and
if any were not killed at the first volley, and offered to submit,
we might save them, and so put it wholly upon God’s provi-
dence to direct the shot. He said very modestly, that he was
loath to kill them, if he could help it; but that those two were
incorrigible villains, and had been the authors of all the mutiny
in the ship, and if they escaped, we should be undone still’;
for they would go on board and bring the whole ship’s compa-
ny, and destroy us all. ‘‘ Well then,” says I, “necessity le-
ritimates my advice, for it is the only way to save our lives.’’
Howertur seeing him still cautious of shedding blood, I told
him they should go themselves, and manage as they found
convenient.

In the middle of this discourse we heard some of them
awake, and soon after we saw two of them on their feet. [
asked him if either of them were the heads of the mutiny. He
said, “ No.” ‘Well then,” said I, ‘‘ you may let them escape ;
and Providence seems to have awakened them on purpose to
save themselves. ‘‘ Now,” says I, ‘‘if the rest escape you, it
is your fault.”” Animated with this, he took the musket [ had
given him in his hand, and a pistol in his belt, and his two
comrades with him, with each a piece in his hand; the two
men who were with him, going first, made some noise, at which
one of the seamen, who was awake, turned about, and seeingROBINSON CRUSOE.

them coming, cried out to the rest; but it was too late then,
for the moment he cried out they fired; | mean the two men,
the captain wisely reserving his own piece. They had so well
aimed their shot at the men they knew, that one of them was
killed on the spot, and the other very much wounded ; but, not
being dead, he started up on his feet, and called eagerly for
help to the other; but the captain stepping to him, told him it
was too late to cry for help ; he should call upon God to forgive
his villany ; and with that word knocked him down with the
stock of his musket, so that he never spoke more: there were
three more in the company, and one of them was also slightly
wounded. By this time I was come; and when they saw
their danger, and that it was in vain to resist, they begged for
mercy. ‘‘he captain told them he would spare their lives, if
they would give him any assurance of their abhorrence of the
treachery they had been guilty of, and would swear to be faith-
ful to him in recovering the ship, and afterwards in carrying
her back to Jamaica, from whence they came. They gave
him all the protestations of their sincerity that could be desired,
and he was willing to believe them, and spare their lives, which
I was not against, only that I obliged him to keep them bound,
hand and foot, while they were on the island.

While this was doing, I sent Friday with the captain’s mate
to the boat, with orders to secure her, and bring away the oars
and sails, which they did; and by and by three straggling men,
that were (happily for them) parted from the rest, came back,
upon hearing the guns fired ; and seeing the captain, who before
was their prisoner, now their conqueror; they submitted to be
bound also; and so our victory was complete.

It now remained that the captain and [ should inquire into
one another’s circumstances: I began first, and told him my
whole history, which he heard with an attention even to amaze-
ment; and particularly at the wonderful manner of my being
furnished with provisions and ammunition ; and, indeed, as my
story is a whole collection of wonders, it affected him deeply.
But when he reflected from thence upon himself, and how I
seemed to have been preserved there on purpose to save his
life, the tears ran down his face, and he could not speak a word
more. After this communication was at an end, I carried him
and his two men into my apartment, leading them in just
where I came out, viz. at the top of the house, where I refreshed
them with such provisions as I had, and showed them all
the contrivances I had made, during my long, long inhabiting
that place.

_All I showed them, all I said to them, was perfectly ama-
zing; but, above all, the captain admired my fortification, and
how perfectly I had concealed my retreat with a grove of trees,
which, having been now planted near twenty years, and the
trees growing much faster than in England, was become a littleROBINSON ‘CRUSOE. 193

wood, and so thick, that it was impassable in any part of it, but
at that one side ae [ had reserved my little winding epiesiee
into it. I told him this was my castle and

that I had a seat in ie country, as most prin ;

I could retreat upon occasion, ‘and I would show him o ao
another time; but at present our business was to consider how
to recover the ship. He agreed with me as to that; but told
me, he was perfectly at a loss what measures to tale, for that
there were still six-and-twenty hands, on board, who, having
entered imto a cursed conspiracy, by which they had all for
feited their lives to the law, would be hardened in it now by
desperation, and would carry it on, knowing that, if they were
subdued, they would be brought to the g gallows as soon as Shey
came to Enegla nd, or to-any of the English colonies; and that,
the erefore, there would be no attacking them with so smal] a
number as we were.

I mused for some time upon what he had said, and found it
was a very rational conclusion, and that, therefore, something
was to be resolved on apcca as well to draw the men on
board into some snare for their surprise, as to prevent their
landing upon us, and destroying us. Upon this, it presently
occurred to me, that in a little while the ship’s crew, wondering
what was become of their comrades, and of the boat, would
certainly come on shore in their other boat, to look fer them;
and that then, perhaps, they might come armed, and he too
eh for us: this he allowed to be rational. Upon this, I told
him the first thing we had to do was to stave the boat, which
lay upon the beach, so that they might not carry her off; and
taking every thing out of her, leave her so far useless as not to
be fit to swim: accordingly we went on board, took the arms
which were left on board out of her, and whatever else we
found there, which was a bottle of brandy, and another of rum,
a few biscuit-cakes, a horn of powder, and a great lump of
sugar in a piece of canvass (the sugar was five or six pounds);
all which was very welcome to me, especially the brandy a nd
sugar, of which [ had none left for many years.

When we had carried. all these things on shore (the oars,
mast, sail, and rudder of the boat were carried away before,
as above e), we knocked a great hole in her bottom, that if they
had come strong enough to master us, yet they could not
carry off the boat. Indeed, it was aoe much in my thoug)its
that we could be able to recover the ship; but my view was,
that if they went away without the boat, i did not much ques-
tion to make her fit again to carry us to the Leeward Islands,
and call upon our friends, the Spaniards, in my way ; for I had
them still in my thoughts.

While we were thus ‘preparing our designs, and had first, by
main strength, heaved the boat upon the beach so high, that
the tide would not float her off at high water mark, and be-
sides, had broke a hole im her bottom too big to be quickly

Y194 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

stopped, and were set down musing what we should do, we
heard the ship fire a gun, and saw her make a waft with her
ensign, a3 a signal for the boat to come on board: but no boat
stirred; and they fired several times, making other signals for
the boat. At last, when all their signals and firing proved
fruitless, and they found the boat did not stir, we saw them,
by the help of my glasses, hoist another boat out, and row
towards the shore; and we found, as they approached, that
there were no less than ten men in her, and that they had fire-
arms with them. >

As the ship lay almost two leagues from the shore, we had

a full view of them as they came, and a plain sight even of ,,

their faces; because the tide having set them a little to the
east of the other boat, they rowed up under shore, to come to
the same place where the other had landed, and where the boat
lay ; by this means, I say, we had a full view of them, and
the captain knew the persons and characters of all the-men in
the boat, of whom, he said, there were three very honest fel-
lows, who, he was sure, were led into this conspiracy by the
rest, being overpowered and frightened; but that as for the
boatswain, who, it seems, was the chief officer among them,
and all the rest, they were as outrageous as any of the ship’s
crew, and were no doubt made desperate in their new enter-
prise; and terribly apprehensive he was that they would be
too powerful for us. I smiled at him, and told him that men
in our circumstances were past the operation of fear; that
seeing almost every condition that could be was better than
that which we were supposed to be in, we ought to expect that
the consequence, whether death or life, would be sure to be a
deliverance. I asked him what he thought of the circum-
stances of my life, and whether a deliverance were not worth
venturing for. ‘ And where, sir,’ said I, ‘is your beliefofmy
being preserved here on purpose to save your life, which ele-
vated you a little while ago? For my part,” said I, ‘‘ there
seems to me but one thing amiss in all the prospect of it.”
‘© What is that?’ says he. ‘* Why,’’. said J, ‘it is, that .as
you say there are three or four honest fellows among them,
which should be spared, had they been all of the wicked part
of the crew, I should have thought God’s providence had
singled them out to deliver them into your hands; for depend
upon it, every man that comes ashore are our own, and shall
die or live as they behave to us.” As I spoke this with a
raised voice and cheerful countenance, I found it greatly en-
cquraged him; so we set vigorously to our business.

We had, upon the first appearance of the boat’s coming
from the ship, considered of separating our prisoners ; and we
had, indeed, secured them effectually. Two of them, of whom
the captain was less assured than ordinary, I sent wath Fridav,
and one of the three delivered men, to my cave, where they

“ROBINSON CRUSUE. 195

were remote enough, and out of danger of being heard or dis-
covered, or of finding their way out of the woods if they could
have delivered themselves: here they left them bound, but
gave them provisions, and promised them, if they continued
there quietly, to give them their liberty in a day or two, but
that, if they attempted their escape, they should be put to
death without mercy. They promised faithfully to bear their
confinement with patience, and were very thankful that they
had such good usage as to have provisions and light left them ;
for Friday gave them candles (such as we made ourselves) for
their comfort ; and they did not know but that he stood sentinel
over them at the entrance.

The other prisoners had better usage; two of them were
kept -pinioned, indeed, because the captain was not free to
trust them; but the other two were taken into my service,
upon the captain’s recommendation, and upon their solemnly
engaging to live and die with us; so with them and the three
honest men, we were seven men well armed; and I made no
doubt we should be able to deal well enough with the ten that
were coming, considering that the captain had said there were
three or four honest men among them also. As soon as they
got to the place where their other boat lay, they ran their boat
into the beach, and came all on shore, hauling the boat up after
them, which I was glad to see; for I was afraid they would
rather have left the boat at an anchor, some distance from the
shore, with some hands in her, to guard her, and so we should
rot be able to seize the boat. Being on shore, the first thing
they did, they ran all to their other boat; and it was easy to
see they were under a great surprise to find her stripped, as
above, of all that was in her, and a great hole in her bottom.
After they had mused a while upon this, they set up two or
three great shouts, hallooing with all their might, to try if they
could make their companions hear; but all was to no purpose :
then they came all close in a ring, and fired a volley of their
small arms, which, indeed, we heard, and the echoes made the
woods ring ; but it was all one: those in the cave we were sure
could not hear, and those in our keeping, though they heard
it well enough, yet durst give no answer to them. They were
so astonished at the surprise of this, that, as they told us after-
wards, they resolved to go all on board again, to their ship,
and let them know that the men were all murdered, and the
long-boat staved; accordingly, they immediately launched
their boat again, and got all of them on board.

The captain was terribly amazed, and even confounded at
this, believing they would go on board the ship again, and set
sail, giving their comrades over for lost, and so he should still
lose the ship, which he was in hopes we should have recovered ;
but he was quickly as much frightened the other way.

They had not been long put off with the boat, but we per-196 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

ceived them all coming on shore again; but with this new
measure in their conduct, which it seems they consulted to-
rether upon, viz. to leave three men in the boat, and the rest
to go on ‘shore, and go up into the country to look for their
fellows. ‘Ehis'was a great disappointment to us, for now we
were at a loss what to ‘do; as our seizing those seven men on
shore would be no advantage to us, if we let the boat escape ;
because they would then row aw ay to the ship, and then ‘the
rest of them would be sure to weigh and set sail, and so our
recovering the ship would be lost. “Howev er, we had no rem-
edy but to wait an see what the issue of things might present.
The seven ae came on shore, and the three who remained in
the boat put her off to a good distance from the shore, and
came to an anchor to wait for them; so that it was impossible
for us to come at them in the boat. ‘Those that came on shore
kept close together, marching towards the top of the little hill
under which my ‘habitation lay; and we could see them
jlainly, though they could not perceive us. We could have
Poon very glad they would have come nearer to us, so that we
might have fired at them, or that they would have gone farther
off, that we might have come abroad. But when they were
come to the brow of the hill, where they could see a great way
into the valleys and woods, which lay towards the north-east
yart, and where the island lay lowest, they shouted and hal-
tooed till they were weary ; and not caring, it seems, to ven-
ture far from the shore, nor far from one another, they sat
down together under a tree, to consider of it. Had they
thought fit to have gone to sleep there, as the other part of
them had done, they: had done the job ‘for us; but they were
too full of f apprehensions of danger to venture to go to sleep,
ween they could not tell what “the danger was they had to
fei r, neither.

T he ¢ captain made a very just proposal to me upon this con-
sultation of theirs, viz. that perhaps they would all fire a vol-
ley again, to endeav or to make their fellows hear, and that we
should all s sally upon them, just at the juncture when their
pieces were all discharged, and they would certainly yield,
and we should have them without bloodshed. I liked this pro-
posal, provided it was done while we were near enough to
come up to them before they could load their pieces again.
But this event did not happen; and we lay still a long time,
very irresolute what course to take. At length I told them
there would be nothing done, in my opinion, till night; and
then, if they did not return to the boat, perhaps we mig ht find
aw ay to get between them and the shore, and so might use
some stratagem with them in the boat to ‘get them on shore.
We waited a great while, though very impatient for their re-
moving, and were very uneasy, when, after long consultations,
we saw them all start up, and march down towards the sea:
it seems they had such dreadful a apprehensions upon them ofee eee

ROBINSON CRUSOE. 197

the place, that they resolved to go on board the
panions over for lost, and so go on
th the ship.

them to go towards the shore, I im-
eally was, that they had given over their
arc were for going back again; and the captain, as
soon n my thoughts, was ready to sink at the appre-
hensions of it; but I presently thought of a stratagem to fetch

them back again, SA which answered my end to a tittle.
ordered Friday and the captain’s mate to go over the little
creek westward, towards the place where the savages came on
shore w Friday was rescued; and as soon as they came ta
alittle rising ground, at about half a mile distance, I bade
them halloo out, as loud as they could, and wait till they found
the seamen heard them; that as soon as ever they heard the
seamen answer them, they should return it again; and then,
keeping out of sight, take a round, always answering when
the others hallooed, to draw them as far into the island, and
among the woods, as possible, and then wheel about again to
me by such ways as I directed them. :
They were just going into the boat, when Friday and the
mate hallooed; and they presently heard them, and answer-
ing, run along the shore westward, towards the voice they
heard, when they were presently stopped by the creek, where,
the water being up, they could not get over, and called for the
boat to come up and set them over; as, indeed, I expected.
When they had set themselves over, I observed that the boat
being gone a good way into the creek, and, as it-were, in a
harbor within the land, they took one of the three men out of
her, to go.along with them, and left only two in the boat, hav-
ing fastened her to the stump of a little tree on the shore.
"his was what I wished for; and immediately leaving Friday
and the captain’s mate to their business, I took the rest with
me, and crossing the creek out of their sight, we surprised
the two men before they were aware; one of them lying on
the shore, and the other being in the boat. The fellow on
shore was between sleeping and waking, and going to start up:
the captain, who was foremost, ran in upon him, and knocked
him down; and then called out to him in the boat to yield, or
he was a dead man. ‘There needed very few arguments to
ersuade a single man to yield, when he saw five men upon
fain and his comrade knocked down; besides, this was, it

seems, one of the three who were not so hearty in the mutiny
as the rest of the crew, and therefore was easily persuaded
not only to yield, but afterwards to join very sincerely with
us. In the mean time, Friday and the captain’s mate so well
managed their business with the rest, that they drew them, by
hallooing and answering, from one hill to another, and from
one wood to another, till they not only heartily tired them, but198 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

left them where they were very sure they could not reach
back to the boat before it was dark; and, indeed, they were
heartily tired themselves also, by the time they came back
to us.

We had nothing now to do but to watch for.them in the
dark, and to fall upon them, so as to make sure work with
them. It was several hours ‘after Friday came back to me
before they came back to their boat; and we could hear the
foremost of them, long before they came quite up, calling to
those behind to come along ; and could also hear them answer,
and complain how lame and tired they were, and not able to
come any faster ; which was very welcome news to us. At
length they came up tothe boat; but it is impossible to ex-

ress their confusion when they found the boat fast aground
in the creek, the tide ebbed out, and their two men gone.
We could hear them call to one another in a most lamentable
manner, telling one another they were got into an enchanted
island ; ‘that either there were inhabitants in it, and they
should all be murdered, or else there were devils ‘and spirits
in it, and they should be all carried away and devoured.
They hallooed again, and called their two comrades by their
names a great many Bn but no answer. After some time
we could sce them, by the little light there was, run about,
wringing their hands like e men in despair ; and that sometimes
they “would go and sit down in the boat, to rest themselves;
then come ashore again, and walk about again, and so the

same thing over again. My men would fain have had m

give them Teave to fall upon them at once in the dark; bel
was willing to take them at some advantage, so to spare them,
and kill as few of them as | could; and especially Twas un-
willing to hazard the killing any of our men, knowing the
others were very well armed. I resolved to wait, to see if they
did not separate; and, therefore, to make sure of them, |
drew my ambuscade nearer, and ordered Friday and the cap-
tain to creep upon their hands and feet, as close to the ground
as they could, that they might not be discovered, and get as
near them as they could possibly, before they offered to fire.

They had not been long in that posture, when the boat-
swain, who was the principal ringleader of the mutiny, and
had now shown himself the most deje ected and dispirited of all
the rest, came walking towards them, with two more of the
crew: the « captain was so eager at having this principal rogue
so much in his power, that he could hardly have patience to
let him come so near as to be sure of him, for they only
heard his tongue before ; but when they came nearer, the cap-
tain and Friday, starting up on their feet, let fly at them.
The boatswain was killed upon the spot; the next man was
shot in the body, and fell just by him, though he did not die
ti] an hour or two after; and the third run for it. At theROBINSON CRUSOE. 199

noise of the fire, limmediately advanced with my whole army,
which was now eight men, viz. myself, generalissimo; Friday,
my lieutenant-general; the captain and his two men, and the
three prisoners of war, whom we had trusted with arms. We
came upon them, indeed, in the dark, so that they could not
see our number; and I made the man they had left in the
boat, who was now one of us, to call them by name, to try if 1
could bring them to a parley, and so might perhaps reduce
them to terms; which fell out just as we desired; for indeed
it was easy to think, as their condition then was, they would
be very willing to capitulate. So he calls out as loud as he
could, to one of them, “Tom Smith! Tom Smith!” Tom
Smith answered immediately, “‘Is that Robinson?” For it
seems he knew the voice. The other answered, “‘ Ay, ay; for
God’s sake, Tom Smith, throw down your arms and yield, or
you are all dead men this moment.”—‘* Whom must we yield
to? Where are they?” says Smith again. ‘Here they are,”
says he; “here’s our captain, and fifty men with him, have
been hunting you these two hours: the boatswain is killed,
Will Fry is wounded, and I am a prisoner; and if you do not
yield, you are all lost.””—‘‘ Will they give us quarter, then ?”’
says Tom Smith, “ and we will yield.”—“T’ll go and ask, if
you promise to yield,” says Robinson: so he asked the ca

tain; and the captain himself then calls out, ““ You, Smith,
you know my voice; if you lay down your arms immediately,
and submit, you shall have your lives, all but Will Atkins.”

Upon this Will Atkins cried out, ‘‘ For Ged’s sake, captain,
give me quarter; what have I done? They have all been as
bad as1;”’ which, by the way, was not true neither ; for, it
seems, this Will Atkins was the first man that laid hold of the
captain, when they first mutinied, and used him barbarously,
in tying his hands, and giving him injurious language. How-
ever, the captain told him he must lay down his arms at dis-
cretion, and trust to the governor’s mercy ; by which he meant
me, for they all called me governor. In a word, they all laid
down their arms, and begged their lives; and I sent the man that
had parleyed with them, and two more, who bound them all;
and then my great army of fifty men, which, particularly with
those three, were in all but eight, came up and seized upon
them, and upon their boat; only that I kept myself and one
more out of sight for reasons of state.

Our next work was to repair the boat, and think of seizing
the ship; and as for the captain, now he had leisure to parley
with them, he expostulated with them upon the villany of their
practices with him, and at length upen the further wickedness
of their design, and how certainly it must bring them to misery
and distress in the end, and perhaps to the gallows. They all
appeared very penitent, and begged hard for their lives As
for that, he told them they were none of his prisoners, but thei
j
{
’
|

 

900 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

commander’s of the island; that they thought they had set
him on shore in_a barren, uninhabited island; but it had
pleased God so to direct them, that it was inhabited, and that
the governor was an English im an; that he might hang them
all there, if he pleased; but as he had given them all quarter,
he supposed he would send ew to England, to be.dealt with
there. as justice required, except Atkins, whom he was com-
manded by the governor to advise to prepare for death, for
that he would be hanged i in the morning

Though this was all but a fiction of his own, yet it. had its
desired effect: Atkins fell upon his knees, to beg the captain
to intercede with the governor for his life; and all the rest
pegged of him, for God’s sake, that they might not be sent
to England.

It now occurred to me, that the time of our deliverance was
come, and that it would be a most easy thing to bring these
fellows in to be hearty in getting possession of the ship; so l
retired in the dark from them (that they might not see what
ane of a governor they had), and called the captain to me.

‘hen I called, as at a good distance, one of the men was or-
baa to speak again, and say to the captain, “‘ Captain, the
commander calls’ for you;”’ and presently the captain re-
plied, ‘‘ Tell his excellency I am just a coming.” ‘This more
pertectly amazed them, and they all believed thi ut the command-
er was just by with his. fifty men. Upon the captain’s coming
to me, I told him my project for seizing the ship, which he
lied wonderfully we ell, and resolved to put it in execution the
next morning. But, in order to execute it with more art, and
to be secure of success, I told him we must divide the prison-
ers, and that he should go and take Atkins, and two more of
the worst of them, and send them pinioned to the cave where
the otherslay. This was committed to Friday, and the two men
vho came on shore with the captain. They conveyed them
to the cave, as to a prison; and it was, indeed, a dismal place,
especially to men in their condition. ‘The others I ordered
to iy bower (as I called it), of which I have given a full de-
scription ; and as it was fenced in, and they pinioned, the
place was secure enough, considering they were upon their
behavior.

‘Yo these, in the morning, I sent the captaus who was to
enter Into a ‘parley with them ; in a word, to try them ni, rt, tell
me whether he thought they might be ewe ee or no to go on
Board and surprise the s ship. He talked to them of the injury
done him, of the condition they were brought to, and tha

though the governor had given them quarter for their lives as
to the present action, yet “that if th rey were sent to England,
they would all be hanged in chains, to be sure; but that if
they would joi in so just an attempt as to recover the ship,
he would have the governor’s engagement for cM eir pardon.ROBINSON CRUSOR, IG)

y one may guess how readily such a proposal would be
-pted by men in their condition: they fell down on weir
s to the captain, and promised, with the deepest impre-
ons, that they would be faithful to him to the last drop,
and that they should owe their lives to him, and would go with
him all over the world; that they would own him as a father
as long as they lived. ‘‘ Well,” says the captain, ‘I must go
and tell the governor what you say, and see what I can do to
bring him to consent to it.” ~ So he brought me an account of
the temper he found them in, and that he verily believed they
would be faithful. However, that we might be very secure, |
told him he should go back again and choose out those five,
and tell them, that they might see he did not want men, that
he would take out those five to be his assistants, and that the
governor would: keep the other two, and the three that were
sent prisoners to the castle (my cave) as hostages for the fidel-
ity of those five; and that if they proved unfaithful in the ex-
ecution, the five hostages should be hanged in chains alive on
the shore. This looked severe, and convinced them that the
governor was in earnest: however, they had no way left them
but to accept it; and it was now the business of the prisoners,
as much as of the captain, to persuade the other five to do
their duty.

Our strength was now thus ordered for the expedition : first,
The captain, his mate, and passenger; second, Then the two
prisoners of the first gang, to whom, having their character
from the captain, I had given their liberty, and trusted them
vith arms; third, The other two that I had kept till now in
my bower pinioned, but, on the captain’s motion, had now re-
leased ; fourth, These five vleaacl at last; so that they were
twelve in all, besides five we kept prisoners in the cave for
hostages.

I asked the captain if he was willing to venture with these
hands on board the ship; but as for me and my man Friday,
I did not think it was proper for us to stir, having seven men
left behind; and it was employment enough for us to keep
them asunder, and supply them with victuals _ As to the five
in the cave, | resolved to keep them fast, but Friday went in
twice a day to them, to supply them with necessaries ; and {
made the other two carry provisions to a certain distance,
vhere Friday was to take it.

When I showed myself to the two hostages, it was with the
captain, who told them I was the person the governor had or-
dered to look after them; and that it was the governor’s
pleasure they should not stir any where but by my direction ;
that if they did, they would be fetched into the castle, and be
laid in irons; so that, as we never suffered them to see me as a
governor, | now appeared as another person, and spoke of the
governor, the garrison, the castle, and the like, upon all
occasions.302 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

The captain now had no difficulty before him, but to furnish
his two boats, stop the breach of one, and man them. He
made his passenger captain of one, with four of the men; and
himself, his mate, and five more, went in the other; and they
contrived their business very well, for they came up to the
ship about midnight. As soon as they came within call of the
ship, he made Robinson hail them, and tell them they had
brought off the men and the boat, but that it was a long time
before they had found them, and the like, holding them in a
chat till they came to the ship’s side; when the captain and
the mate entering first, with their arms, immediately knocked
down the second mate and carpenter with the butt end of their
muskets, being very faithfully seconded by their men: they
secured all the rest that were upon the main and quarter-
decks, and began to fasten the hatches, to keep them down
that were below; when the other boat and their men, entering
at the forechains, secured the forecastle of the ship, and the
scuttle which went down into the cook-room, making three
men they found there prisoners. When this was done, and
all safe upon deck, the captain ordered the mate, with three
men, to break into the round-house, where the new rebel cap-
tain lay, who, having taken the alarm, had got up, and, with
two men and a boy, had got fire-arms in their hands; and when
the mate, with a crow, split open the door, the new captain
and his men fired boldly among them, and wounded the mate
with a musket-ball, which broke his arm, and wounded two
more of the men, but killed nobody. The mate, calling for
help, rushed, however, into the round-house (wounded as he
was), and with his pistol shot the new captain through the
head, the bullet entering at his mouth, and came out again be-
hind one of his ears, so that he never spoke a word more;
upon which the rest yielded, and the ship was taken effectu-
ally, without any more lives lost.

As soon as the ship was thus secured, the captain ordered
seven guns to be fired, which was the signal agreed upon with
me to give me notice of his success, which you may be sure
I was very glad to hear, having sat watching upon the shore
for it till near two o’clock in the morning. Having thus
heard the signal plainly, [ laid me down; and it haying been
a day of great fatigue to me,I slept very sound, till I was
something surprised with the noise of a gun; and presently
starting up, [ heard a man call me by the name of ‘“Governor,
governor ;”’ and presently I knew the captain’s voice; when,
climbing up to the top of the hill, there he stood, and pointing
to the ship, he embraced me in his arms. ‘‘ My dear friend
and deliverer,” says he, ‘‘there’s your ship, for she is all
yours, and so are we, and all that belong to her.” I cast my
eyes to the ship, and there she rode within little more than
half a mile of the shore; for they had weighed her anchor asROBINSON CRUSOE.

soon as they were masters of her, and the weather being fair,
had brought her to an anchor just against the mouth of the
little creek ; and the tide being up, the captain had brought
the pinnace in near the place where I at first landed my raits,
and so landed just at my door. I was at first ready to sink
down with the surprise; for I saw my deliverance, indeed,
visibly put into. my hands, all things easy, and a large ship
just ready to carry me away whither I pleased to go. At
first, for some time, I was not able to answer him one word ;
but as he had taken me in his arms, I held fast by him, or I
should have fallen to the ground. He perceived the surprise,
and immediately pulls a bottle out of his pocket, and gave me
a dram of cordial, which he had brought on purpose for me.
After I had drank it, I sat down upon the ground; and though
st brought me te myself, yet it was a good while before I could
speak a word to him. All this time the poor man was 1n as
great an ecstasy as I, enly not under any surprise, as I was;
and he said a thousand kind and.tender things to me, to com-
pose and bring me to myself; but such was the flood of joy in
my breast, that it put all my spirits into confusion ; at last it
broke out into tears; and in a little while after I recovered my
speech. J tnen took my turn, and embraced him as my de-
liverer, and we rejoiced together. I told him I looked upon
him as aman sent from Heaven to deliver me, 2nd that thepethece RNID to

ia iat

904 ROBINSON CRUSOF

whole transaction seemed to be a chain of wonders ; that suck
things as these were the testimonies we had of a secret hand
of Providence governing the wor: ld, and an evidence t hat the
eye of an infinife power could search mito the remotest corner
vhenever he

a

of the world, and oe help to the miserable wh
kful Hess to

leased. I forgot Be 9 lift up my heart in than
Heaven and what heart could forbear to bless him, who had
not only in a miraculous 3s Manner pre vide d for me im such a
wilderness, and in such a desolate cone from whou#
every deliverance must always be ac know i o proceed.

When we had talk - a while, the ec: ae ne he had

ch as the ship afforded,

and such as the Ratiches. that | iad oe : so long his masters
had not plundered him of. Upon this he called a to the

boat, and bade his men bring the things ashot (
the governor; and, indeed, it was a presentas if L- had Been
one that was not to be carried away w vith them, but as if I had
been to dwell upon the island still. First, he had brought me
a case of bottles full of excellent cordial waters, six large bottles
of Madeira wine (the bottles held two quarts each), two pounds
of excellent good tobacco, tw elve good vee of the ship’s beef,

 

ot ot

Up

and six pieces of pork, with a bag of peas, and about a hun-
aves weight of biscuit : he also ene meé a box of sugar
box of flour, a bag full of lemons, and two bo tles f lime j
and abundance of other things. But, besides the
was a thousand times more useful to me, he brought me six
new clean shirts, six very good neckcloths, two pair of gloves,
one pair of shoes, a hat, ‘and one pair of ovine) with a very
good suit of c loihes of his own, which had been worn but very
little ; in a word, he clothed me from head to foot. It was a
very kind and agreeable present, as any one may imagine, to
one in my circumstances} but never was any thing in the world
of that kind so unpleasant, awkward, and uneasy, as it was to
me to wear such clothes at first.

After these ceremonies were past, and after all his good
things were brought into my little apartment, we began to
consult what was to be done with the prisoners we had ; for it
was worth considering whether we might venture to take them
away with us or no, especially two of them, whom he knew to
be incorrigible and refractory to the last degree ; and the cap-
tain said he knew they were such rogues, that there was no
obliging them; and if he did carry them away, it must be in
irons, as malefactors, to be delivered over to justice at the first
Engl ish colony he could come at; and I found that the captain
himself was very anxious about it. Upon this I told him, that
if he desired it, I would undertake to bring the two men he
spoke of to make it their own request that he should leave them
upon the island. ‘I should be very glad of that,’’ says the
captain, “ with all my heart.’”—* Well,” says Bet L wi il aeal
for them up, and talk with them for you.’ So I caused Fri-

 

it
LbROBINSON CRUSOE. 205

day and the two hostages,—for they were now discharged, thei
comrades having performed their promise ;—l say, | caus
them to go to the caye, and bring up the five men, pini

as they were, to the bower, and keep them there till I came.
After some time, I came thither dressed in my new habit; and
now 1 was called governor again. Being all met, and the cap-
tain with me, I caused the men to be brought before me, and f
told them I had got a full account of their villanous behavior
to the captain, and how they had run away. with the ship, and
were preparing to commit further robberies, but that Providence
had ensnared them in their own ways, and that they were
fallen into the pit which they had dug for others. I let them
know that by my direction the ship had been seized; that she
lay now in the road; and they might see, by and by, that their
new captain had received the reward of his villany, and that
they would see him hanging at the yard-arm; that as to them,
I wanted to know what they had to say why I should not execute
them as pirates, taken inthe fact, as by my commission they
could not doubt but I had authority so to do.

One of them answered in the name of the rest, that they had
nothing to say but this, that when they were taken, the captain
promised them their lives, and they humbly implored my mer-
cy. ButI told them I knew not what mercy to show them;
for as for myself, I had resolved to quit the island with all_ my
men, and had taken passage with the captain to go for Eng-
land; and as for the captain, he could not carry them to Eng-
land other than as prisoners, in irons, to be tried for mutiny,
and running away with the ship; the consequence of which,
they must needs know, would be the gallows; so that I could
not tell what was best for them, unless they had a mind to take
their fate in the island; if they desired that, as I had liberty to
leave the island, I had some inclination to give them their lives,
if they thought they could shift on shore. They seemed very
thankful for it, and said they would much rather venture to stay
there than be carried to England to be hanged: so I left it on
that issue.

However, the captain seemed to make some difficulty of it,
as if he durst not leave them there. Upon this I seemed a
little angry with the captain, and told him that they were my
prisoners, not his; anc that seeing I had offered them so much
favor, | would be as good as my word ; and that if he did not
think fit to consent to it, I would set them at liberty, as I found
them; and if he did not like it, he might take them again if
he could catch them. Upon this they appeared very thankful,
and I accordingly set them at liberty, and bade them retire
into the woods to the place whence they came, and I would
leave them some fire-arms, some ammunition, and some direc
tions how they should live very well, if they thought fit. Upon
this I prepared to go on board the ship; but told the captain206 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

f would stay that night to prepare my things, and desired him
to go on board, in the mean time, and keep all right in the
ship, and send the boat on shore next day for me; ordering
him, at all events, to cause the new captain, who was killed, to
be hanged at the yard-arm, that these men might see him.

When the captain was gone, I sent for the men up to me to
my apartment, and entered seriously into discourse with them
on their circumstances. I told them I thought they had made
a right choice ; that if the captain had carried them away, they
would certainly be hanged. I showed them the new captain
hanging at the yard-arm of the ship, and told them they had
nothing less to expect.

When they had all declared their willingness to stay, I then
told them [ would let them into the story of my living there,
and put them into the way of making it easy to them; accord-
ingly, I gave them the whole history of the place, and of my
coming to it; showed them my fortifications, the way I made
my bread, planted my corn, cured my grapes; and, in a word,
all that was necessary to make them easy. I told them the
story also of the seventeen Spaniards that were to be expected,
for whom I left a letter, and made them promise to treat them
in common with themselves. Here it may be noted, that the
captain had ink on board, who. was greatly surprised: that I
never hit upon a way of making ink of eharenal and water,
or of something else, as I had done things much more difficult.

I left them my fire-arms, viz. five muskets, three fowling-
pieces, and three swords. [ had above a barrel and a half of
powder left; for after the first year or two, I used but little,
and wasted none. I gave them a description of the way I
managed the goats, and directions to milk and fatten them, and
to make both butter and cheese: in a word, I gave them every
part of my own story; and told them I should prevail with
the captain to leave them two barrels of gunpowder more, and
some garden seeds, which I told them I would have been very
glad of: also I gave them the bag of peas which the captain
had brought me to eat, and bade them be sure to sow and in-
crease them.

Having done all this, I left them the next day, and went on
board the ship. We prepared immediately to ‘sail, but did
not weigh that night. The next morning early, two of the
five men came swimming to the ship’s side, and making a most
lamentable complaint of the other three, begged to be taken
into the ship, for God’s sake, for they should be murdered, and
begged the captain to take them on board, though he hanged
them immediately. Upon this, the captain pretended to have
no power without me; but after some ificulty, and after their
solemn promises of amendment, they were taken on board, and
Were some time after soundly whipped and pickled; after
which they proved very honest and quiet fellows.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 207

Some time after this, the boat was ordered on shore, the
tide being up, with the things promised to the men; to which
the captain, at my intercession, caused their chests and clothes
to be added, which they took, and were very thankful for. I
also encouraged them, by telling them that if it lay in my
power to send any vessel to take them in, I would not for-
get them.

When. 1 took leave of this island, I carried on board, for
reliques, the great goat-skin cap I had made, my umbrella,
and one of my parrots; also | forgot not to take the money I
formerly mentioned, which had lain by me so long useless, that
it was grown rusty or tarnished, and could hardly pass for sil-
ver, till it had been a little rubbed and handled; as also the
money I found in the wreck of the Spanish ship. And thus
I left the island, the 19th of December, as I found by the ship’s
account, in the year 1686, after I had been upon it eight and
twenty years, two months, and nineteen days ; being delivered
from this second captivity the same day of the month that I
first made my escape in the long-boat, from among the Moors
of Sallee. In this vessel, after a long voyage, | arrived in
England the 11th of Juné, in the year 1687, having been thirty-
five years absent.

When I came to England, I was as perfect a stranger to all
the world as if I had never been known there. My benefactor
and faithful steward, whom I had left my money in trust with.
was alive, but had had great misfortunes in the world; was
become a widow the second time, and very low in the world.
I made her very easy as to what she owed me, assuring her I
would give her no trouble; but on the contrary, in gratitude
for her former care and faithfulness to me, I relieved her as
my little stock would afford; which, at that time, would in-
deed allow me to do but little for her ; but I assured her I would
never forget her former kindness to me; nor did I forget her
when I had sufficient to help her, as shall be observed in its
proper place. I went down afterwards into Yorkshire; but my
father was dead, and my mother and all the family extinct, ex-
cept that I found two sisters, and two of the children of one of
my brothers; and as I had been long ago given over for dead,
there had been no provision made for me; ‘so that, in a word,
I found nothing to relieve or assist me; and that the little
money I had would not do much for me as to settling in
the world.

I met with one piece of gratitude, indeed, which I did not
expect; and this was, that the master of the ship whom I had
so happily delivered, and by the same means saved the ship
and cargo, having given a very handsome account to the own-
ers of the manner how I had saved the lives of the men, and
the ship, they invited me to meet them, and some other
merchants concerned, and all together made me a verv hand-secre

ST LONE: A 8 Saat ns WERE

208 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

some compliment upon the subject, and a present of almost
£200 sterling. :

But after making several reflections upon the circumstances
of my life, and how little way this would go towards settling
me in the world, I resolved to go to Lisbon, and see if I might
not come by some information of the state of my plantation in
the Brazils, and of what was become of my partner, who, I
had reason to suppose, had some years past given me over for
dead. With this view I took shipping for Lisbon, where I
arrived in April following; my man Friday accompanying
me very honestly in all these ramblings, and proving a most
faithful servant upon all occasions. When I came to Lisbon,
U found out, by inquiry, and to my particular satisfaction, my
old friend the captain of the ship who first took me up at sea
off the shore of Africa. He was now grown old, and had left
off going to sea, having put his son, who was far from a young
man, into his ship, and who still used the Brazil trade. The
old man did not know me; and, indeed, I hardly knew him;
but I soon brought him to my remembrance, and as soon
brought myself to his remembrance, when I told him who

was.

After some passionate expressions of the old acquaintance
between us, I inquired, you may be sure, after my plantation
and my partner. The old man told me he had not been in
the Brazils tor about nine years; but that he could assure me,
that when he came away, my partner was living; but the trus-
tees, whom I had joined with him to take cognizance of my
part, were both dead; that, however, he believed I would have
a very good account of the improvement of the plantation; for
that upon the general belief of my being cast away and
drowned, my trustees had given in the account of the produce
of my part of the plantation to the. procurator-fiscal, who had
appropriated it, in case I never came to claim it, one third to
the king, and two thirds to the monastery of St. Augustine, to
be expended for the benefit of the poor, and for the conversion
of the Indians to the-Catholic faith; but that if I appeared, or
any one for me, to claim the inheritance, it would be restored ;
only that the improvement or annual production, being dis-
tributed to charitable uses, could not be restored; but he
assured me that the steward of the king’s revenue from lands,
and the provedore, or steward of the monastery, had taken
great care all along that the incumbent, that is to say, my
partner, gave every year a faithful account of the produce, of
which they had duly received my moiety. I asked him if he
knew to what height of improvement he had brought the plan-
tation, and whether he thought it might be worth looking
after ; or whether, on my going thither, I should meet with any
obstruction to my possessing my just right in the moiety.
He told me he sould not tell exactly to what degree the plan-
tation was improved ; but this he knew, that my partner wasROBINSON CRUSOE.

grown exceeding rich dee the enjoying his part of i
to the best of his a had ous

ojous Hates amounte
that as to my being r
I , there was no question to be
partner being alive to witness my title, and my name
being also enrolled in the register of the country : : also he told
me, that the survivors of my two trustees were very fair, honest
people, and very wealthy ; and he believed I would not only
have their assistance for putting me in possession, but w ould
find a very considerable sum of money in their hands for my
account, being the produce of the farm while their fathers beld
the trust, and before it was given up, as above; which, as he
remembered, was for about twelve years.

I showed 1 myself a little concerned and uneasy at this ac-
count, and inquired of the old cé aptain how it came to pass that
a. trustees should thus dispose of my effects, when he knew

that I had made my wall, and had made him, the Portuguese
captain, my universal heir, &c.

He told me that was true; but that as there was no proof
of my being dead, he could not act as executor, until some
certain account should come of my death; and, besides, he
was not willing to intermeddle with a thing so remote; that it
was true he | 1ad registered my will, and put in his claim ; ; and
could he have given any account of my being dead or alive,
he would have acted by procuration, and taken possessioa of
the ingeino (so they called the sugar-house), and have given
his son, who was now at the Brazils, orders to doit. ‘‘ But,”
says the old man, ‘‘I have one piece of news to tell you,
which perhaps may not be so Be aT to you as the res
and that is, believing you were Jost, and all the eae believing
so also, your partner and trustees did offer to account with me,
in your name, for six or eight of Wee first years’ profits, which

ceived. ‘There bene at that time great disbursements for
increasing the works, building an melee. and buying slaves,
it did not amount to near so much as afterwards it produc ed:
however,” says the old man, ‘‘ I shall give you a true account
of what I have received in all, and how I have disposed of it.’

A age a few days’ further conference with this ancient friend,

it me an account of the first six years’ income of ny

lana signed by my partner and the mercliant-trustees
ig always de livered in goods, viz. tobacco 1n roll, and sug a

in che sts, besides rum, molasses, &vc., which is the consequence
; -work ; and I found, by this account, that every year
tl ycome considerably incre eased ; but, as above, the disburse-
ments being large, the sum at first was small: however, the
old man let me see that he was debtor to me four hundred and
seventy moidores of gold, besides sixty chests of sugar, andROBINSON CRUSOE.

  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

219

| fifteen double rolls of tobacco, which were lost in his ship; he
having been shipwrecked coming home to Lisbon, about eleven
years after my leaving the place. The good man then began
to complain of his misfortunes, and how he had been obliged
to make use of my money to recover his losses, and buy him

a share ina new ship. ‘“‘ However, my old friend,” says he,

‘vou shall not want a supply in your necessity; and as soon

as my son returns, you shall be fully satisfied.” Upon this,

he pulls out an old pouch, and gives me one hundred and
sixty Portugal moidores in gold; and giving the writings of
his title to the ship, which his son was gone to the Brazils in,
of which he was a quarter-part owner, and his son another, he
Bf vuts them both into my hands for security of the rest.
ie I was too much moved with the honesty and kindness of the
i poor man to be able to bear this; and remembering what he
had done for me, how he had taken me up at sea, and how
generously he had used me on all occasions, and particularly
} how sincere a frrend he was now to me, I could hardly refrain
weeping at what he had said to me; therefore I asked him if
his circumstances admitted him to spare so much money at
é that time, and if it would not straiten him. He told me he
: could not say but it might straiten him a little; but, however
5 % ' it was my money, and [ might want it more than he.
! = Every thing the good man said was full of affection, and l
} : could hardly refrain from tears while he spoke: in short IL
: took one hundred of the moidores, and called for a pen and
i ink to give him a receipt for them: then I returned him the
f rest, and told him if ever [ had possession of the plantation,
i Y would return the other to him also (as, indeed, I afterwards
f i did); and that as to the bill of sale of his part in his son’s
' ship, [ would not take it by any means; but that if I wanted
the money, I found he was honest enough to pay me; and if
i did not, but came to receive what he gave me reason to ex-
pect, I would never havea penny more from him.

When this was past, the old man asked me, if he should put
me into a method to make my claim to my plantation. I told
him I thought to go over to it myself. He said I might do so
if I pleased; but that if I did not, there were ways enough to
secure my right, and immediately to appropriate the profits to
mysuse; and as there were ships in the river of Lisbon just
ready to go away to Brazil, he made me enter my name in a

 

fae re public register, with his affidavit, affirming, upon oath, that. I
ed i was alive, and that I was the same person who took up the land
ig for the planting the said. plantation at first. This being reg-

ularly attested by a notary, and a procuration affixed, he di-
rected me to send it, with a letter of his writing, to a merchant
at ee CC of his acquaintance at the place, and then proposed my stay-
a | ing with him till an account came of the return.

wh Never was any thing more honorable than the proceedings
upon this procuration; for in less than seven months I re-ROBINSON CRUSOE. 211

ceived alarge packet from the survivors of my trustees, the
merchants, for whose account I went to sea, in which were the
following particular letters and papers inclosed.

“st, There was the account-current of the produce of my
farm or plantation, from the year when their fathers had
balanced with my old Portugal captain, being for six years:
the balance appeared to be one thousand one hundred and
seventy-four moidores in my favor.

Secondly, There was the account of four years more, while
they kept the effects in their hands, before the government
claimed the administration, as being the effects of a person
not to be found, which they called civil death; and the bal-
ance of this, the value of the plantation increasing, amounted
to nineteen thousand four hundred and forty-six crusadoes,
being about three thousand two hundred and forty moidores.

Thirdly, There was the prior of Augustine’s account, who
had received the profits for above fourteen years; but not
being to account for what was disposed of by the hospital,
very honestly declared he had eight hundred and seventy-two
moidores not distributed, which he acknowledged to my ac-
count: as to the king’s part, that refunded nothing.

There was a letter of my partner’s, congratulating me very
affectionately upon my being alive, giving me an account how
the estate was improved, and what it produced a year; with
a particular of the number of squares or acres that it con-
tained, how planted, how many slaves there were upon it, and
making two-and-twenty crosses for blessings, told me he had
said so many Ave Marias to thank the blessed Virgin that I
was alive; inviting me very passionately to come over and
take possession of my own; and, in the mean time, to give
him orders to whom he should deliver my effects, if I did not
come myself; concluding with a hearty tender of his friend-
ship, and that of his family; and sent me, as a present, seven
fine leopards’ skins, which he had, it seems, received from
Africa, by some other ship that he had sent thither, and who,
it seems, had made a better voyage than I. He sent me also
five chests of excellent sweetmeats, and a hundred pieces of
gold uncoined, not quite so large as moidores. By the same
fleet, my two merchant-trustees shipped me one thousand two
hundred chests of sugar, eight hundred rolls of tobacco, and
the rest of the whole account in gold.

1 might well say now, indeed, that the latter end of Job was
better than the beginning. It is impossible to express the
flutterings of my very heart when I found all my wealth about
me: for as the Brazil ships come all in fleets, the same ships
which brought my letters brought my goods; and the effects
were safe in the river, before the letters came to my hand.
[In a word, I turned pale, and grew sick; and had not the old
man run and fetched me a cordial, I believe the sudden sur-212 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

prise of joy had overset nature, and I had died upon the spot:
nay, after that, I contmued very ill, and was so some hours,
till a physician being sent for, and something of the real cqpse

of my illness being known, he ordered me to be let blood ;
een |

 

WoULtic
a had relief, and grew well; but I verily believe,
if | had not been eased by a vent given in that manner to the
spirits, | should have died.

L was now master, all on a sudden, of above five thousand
pounds sterling in money, and had an estate, as I might well
call it, in the Brazils, of above a thousand pounds a year, as
sure as an estate of lands in England; and, fn a word, I was
in a condition which I scarce knew how to understand, or
how to compose myself for the enjoyment of it. The first
thing I did was to recompense my original benefactor, my good
old captain, who had been first charitable to me in my dis-
tress, kind to me In my beginning, and honest to me at the
end. I showed him all that was sent to me: I told him, that
next to the providence of Heaven, which disposed all things,
it was owing to him; and that it now lay on me to reward
him, which 1 would do a hundred-fold; so I first returned to
him the hundred moidores I had received of him; then I sent
for a notary, and caused him to draw up a general release or
discharge from the four hundred and seventy moidores, which
he had acknowledged he owed me, in the fullest and firmest
manner possible; after which I caused a procuration to be
drawn, empowering him to be my receiver of the annual
profits of my plantation, and appointing my partner to ac-
count with him, and make the returns by the usual fleets to
him in my name; and a clause in the end, being a grant of
one hundred moidores a year to him during his life, out of the
effects, and fifty moidores a year to his son after him, for his
life; and thus I requited my old man.

I was now to consider which way to steer my course next,
and what to do with the estate that Providence had thus put
into my hands; and, indeed, I had more care upon my head
now than I had in my silent state of life in the island, where I
wanted nothing but what I had, and had nothing but what I
wanted; whereas I had now a great charge upon me, and
my business was how to secure it. JI had no cave now to hide
my money in, or a place where it might lie without lock or
key, till it grew mouldy and tarnished before any body would
meddle with it: on the contrary, I knew not where to put it,
or whom to trust with it. My old patron, the captain, indeed,
was honest, and that was the only refuge I had. In the next
place, my interest in the Brazils seemed to summon me thith-
er; but now I could not tell how to think of going thither till 1
had settled my affairs, and left my effects in some safe hands
behind me. At first I thought of my old friend the widow,
who. knew was honest, and would be just to me; but then

ane ai
ufter whic hlROBINSON CRUSOE. 313

she was in years, and but poor, and, for aught I knew, might
be in debt; so that, in a word, I had no way but to go back to
England myself, and take my effects with me.

It was some months, however, before I resolved upon this;
and therefore, as I had rewarded the old captain fully, and to
his satisfaction, who had been my former benefactor, so I be-
gan to think of my poor widow, whose husband had been my
first benefactor, and she, while it was in her power, my faith-
ful steward and instructor. So the first thing I did, I got a
merchant in Lisbon to write to his correspondent in London,
not only to pay a bill, but to go find her out, and carry her in
money a hundred pounds from me, and to talk with her, and
comfort her in her poverty, by telling her she should, if I
lived, have a further supply: at the same time I sent my two
sisters in the country a hundred pounds each, they being,
though not in want, yet not in very good circumstances; one
having been married and left a widow; and the other having
a husband not so kind to her as he should be. But among all
my relations or acquaintances, I could not yet pitch upon one
to whom [ durst commit the gross of my stock, that I might
go away to the Brazils, and leave things safe behind me; and
this greatly perplexed me.

I had once a mind to have gone to the Brazils, and have
settled myself there, for I was, as it were, naturalized to the
place; but I had some little seruple in my mind about religion,
which insensibly drew me back. However, 1t was not re-
ligion that kept me from going there for the present ; and as |
had made no scruple of being openly of the religion of the
country all the while I was among them, so neither did I yet;
only that, now and then, having of late thought more of it
than formerly, when I began to think of living and dying
among them, I began to regret my having professed my-
self a Papist, and thought it might not be the best religion to
die with.

But, as I-have said, this was not the main thing that kept
me from going to the Brazils, but that really I did not know
with whom to leave my effects behind me; so I resolved, at
last, to go to England with it, where, if I arrived, I concluded
I should make some acquaintance, or find some relations tha
would be faithful to me; and, accordingly, I prepared to go
to England with all my wealth. ;

In order to prepare things for my going home, I first, the
Brazil fleet being just going away, resolved to give answers
suitable to the just and faithful account of things I had from
thence; and, first, to the prior of St. Augustine I wrote a let-
ter full of thanks for their just dealings, and the offer of the
eight hundred and seventy-two moidores which were undis-
posed of, which I desired might be given, five hundred to the
monastery, and three hundred and seventy-two to the poor,
as the prior should direct; desiring the good padre’s prayersponte gS PRRY NS Aa itoet pe PTR

 

214 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
forme, and the like. I wrote next a letter of thanks to my
two trustees, with all the acknowledgment that so much jus-
tice and honesty called for; as for sending them any present,
they were far above having any occasion for it. Lastly, I
wrote to my partner, acknowledging his industry in the im-
proving the plantation, and his integrity in increasing the
stock of the works; giving him instructions for his future gov-
ernment of my part, according to the powers IJ had left with
my old patron, to whom I desired him to send whatever be-
came due to me, till he should hear from me more partic-
ularly ; assuring him that it was my intention not only to
roeme to him, but to settle myself there for the remainder of
my life. ‘To this 1 added a very handsome present of some
Italian silks for his wife and two daughters, for such the cap-
tain’s son informed me he had; with two pieces of fine English
broadcloth, the best I could get in Lisbon, five pieces of black
baize, and some Flanders lace of a good value.

Having thus settled my affairs, sold my cargo, and turned
all my effects into good bills of exchange, my next difficulty
was, which way to-go to England: I had been accustomed
enough to the sea, and yet I had a strange aversion to go to
England by sea at that time; and though I could give no
reason for it, yet the difficulty increased upon me so much,
that though I had once shipped my baggage in order to go,
yet I altered my mind, anid that not once, but two or three
times.

It is true, I had been very unfortunate by sea, and this
might be some of the reasons; but let no man slight the strong
impulses of his own thoughts in cases of such moment: two
of the ships which I had singled out to go in—I mean more
particularly singled out than any other, having put my things
on board one of them, and in the other to have agreed with the
captain—I say, two of these ships miscarried, viz. one was
taken by the Algerines, and the other was cast away on the
Start, near Torbay, and all the people drowned, except three;
so that in either of those vessels I had been made miserable.

Having been thus harassed in my thoughts, my old pilot
(to whom I communicated every thing) pressed me earnestly
not to go by sea, but either to go by land to the Groyne, and
cross over the Bay of Biscay to Rochelle, from whence it was
but an easy and safe journey by land to Paris, and so to
Calais and Dover; or to go up to Madrid, and so all the way
by land through France. In a word, I was so prepossessed
against my going by sea at all, except from Calais to Dover,
that I resolved to travel all the way by land; which, as I was
not in haste, and did’ not value the charge, was by much the

leasanter way; and to make it more so, my old captain
rought an English gentleman, the son of a merchant in Lis-
bon, who was willing to travel with me; after which weROBINSON CRUSOE. 215

picied up two more Enelish merchants also, and two.young
+ ortuguese gentlemen, the last going to Paris only; so that
in all there were six of us, and five servants; the two mer-
chants and the two Portuguese contenting themselves with
one servant between two, to save the charge; and as for me,
1 got an King sailor to travel with me as a servant, besides
my man Friday, who was too much a Stranger to be capable
of supplying the place of a servant on the road,

In this n®inner I set out from Lisbon; and our company
being very well mounted and armed, we made a little troop,
whereof they did me the honor to call me captain, as well be-
cause [ was the oldest man, as because I had two servants,
and, indeed, was the original of the whole journey.

As I have troubled you with none of my sea journals, so I
shall trouble you now with-none of my land journal; but some
adventures that happened to us in this tedious and difficult
journey I must not omit.

When we came to Madrid, we, being all of us strangers to
Spain, were willing to stay some time to see the court of Spain,
and to see what was worth observing ;. but it being the latter
part of the summer, we hastened away, and set out from Ma-
drid about the middle of October ;:but when we came to the
edge of Navarre, we were alarmed, at several towns on the
way, with an account that so much snow was fallen on the
French side of the mountains, that several travellers were
obliged to come back to Pampeluna, after having attempted,
at an extreme hazard, to pass on.

When we came to Pampeluna itself, we found it so indeed ;
and to me, that had been always used to a hot climate, and to
countries where I could scarce bear any clothes on, the cold
was insufferable ; nor, indeed, was it more painful than sur-
prising, to come but ten days before out of Old Castile, where
the weather was not only warm, but very hot, and immediately
to feel a wind from the Pyrenéan- mountains so very keen, so
severely cold, as to be intolerable, and to endanger benumbing
and perishing of our fingers and toes.

Poor Friday was really frightened when he saw the moun-
tains all covered with snow, and felt cold weather, which he
had never seen or felt before in his life. To mend the matter,
when we came to Pampeluna, it continued snowing with so
much violence, and so iote. that the people said winter was
come before its time; and the roads, which were difficult be-
fore, were now quite impassable; for, in a word, the snow lay
in some places too thick for us to travel, and being not hard
frozen, as is the case in the northern countries, there was no
going without being in danger of being buried alive every
step. We staid no less than twenty days at Pampeluna; when,
seeing the winter coming on, and no likelihood of its Pe
better—for it was the severest winter all over Europe that haES

 

 

216 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

been known in the memory of man—I proposed that we should
all go away to Fontarabia, and there take shipping for Bour-
deaux, which was a very little voyage. But while I was con-
sidering this, there came in four French gentlemen, who, hav-
ing been stopped on the French side of the passes, as we were
on the Spanish, had found out a guide, who, traversing the
country near the head of Languedoc, had brought them over
the mountains by such ways, that they were not gnuch incom-
moded with the snow; for where they met with snow in any
quantity, they said it was frozen hard enough to bear them
and their horses. We sent for this guide, who told us he
would undertake to carry us the same way with no hazard
from the snow, provided we. were armed sufficiently to pro-
tect ourselves from wild beasts; ‘‘ For,” he said, “‘ upon these
great snows it was frequent for some wolves to show them-
selves at the foot of the mountains, being made ravenous for
want of food, the ground being covered with snow.” We told
him we were well enough prepared for such creatures as
they were, if he would ensure us from a kind of two-legged
wolves, which, we were told, we were in most danger from,
especially on the French side of the mountains. He satisfied
us that there was no danger of that kind in the way that we
were to go: so we readily agreed to follow him, as did also
twelve other gentlemen, with their servants, some French
some Spanish, who, as I said, had attempted to go, and were
obliged to come back again.

Accordingly, we set out from Pampeluna, with our guide,
on the 15th of November ; and, indeed, I was surprised, when,
instead of going forward, he came directly back with us on
the same road that we came from Madrid, about twenty
miles; when, having passed two rivers, and come into the
plain country, we found ourselves in a warm climate again,
where the country was pleasant, and no snow to be seen; but
on a sudden, turning to his left, he approached the mountains
another way; and though it is true the hills and precipices
looked dreadful, yet he made so many tours, such meanders,
and led us by such winding ways, that we insensibly passed
the height of the mountains without being much encumbered
with the snow; and, all on a sudden, he showed us the pleas-
ant, fruitful provinces of Languedoc and Gascony, all green
and flourishing, though, indeed, at a great distance, and we
had some rough way to pass still.

We were a little uneasy, however, when we found it snowed
one whole day and a night so fast, that we could not travel;
but he bid us be easy; we should soon be past it all: we
found, indeed, that we began to descend every day, and to
come more north than before; and so, depending upon our
guide, we went on.

It was about two hours before night, when, our guide beingROBINSON CRUSOE. O17

something before us, and not just in sight, out rushed three
monstrous wolves, and-after them a bear, out of a hollow way
adjoining to a thick wood: two of the wolves made at the
guide, and had he been far before us, he would have been de-
voured before we could have helped him; one of them fast-
ened upon his horse, and the other attacked the man with
that violence, that he had not ‘time, or presence of mind
enough, to draw his pistol, but hallooed and cried out to us
most lustily. My man Friday, being next me, I bade lim
ride up, and see what was the matter. As soon as Friday
came In sight of the man, he hallooed out as loud as the other,
“OQ master! O master!” but, like a bold fellow, rode directlv
up to the poor man, and with his pistol shot the wolf that a:-
tacked him in the head.

It was happy for the poor man that it was my man Friday;
for he having been used to such creatures in his country, he
had no fear upon him, but went close up to him and shot him,
as above; whereas any other of us would have fired at a far-
ther distance, and have perhaps either missed the wolf, or en-
dangered shooting the man.

But it was enough to have terrified a bolder man than I;
and, indeed, it alarmed all our company, when, with the noise
of Friday’s pistol, we heard on both sides the most disma
howling of wolves; and the noise, redoubled by the echo of the
mountains, appeared to us as if there had been a prodigious
number of them; and perhaps there was not such a few as
that we had no cause of apprehensions; however, as Friday
had killed this wolf, the other that had fastened upon the horse
left him immediately, and fled, without doing him any dam-
age, having happily fastened upon his head, where the bosses
of the bridle had stuck in his teeth. But the man was most
hurt; for the raging ereature had bit him twice, once in the
arm, and the other time a little above his knee ; and though
he had made some defence, he was just as it were tumblin
down, by the disorder of his horse, when Friday came up afl
shot the wolf.

It is easy to suppose that at the noise of Friday’s pistol we
all mended our pace, and rode up as fast as the way, which
was very difficult, would give us leave, to see what was the
matter. As soon as we came clear of the trees, which blinded
us before, we saw clearly what had been the case, and how
Friday had disengaged the poor guide, though we did not
presently discern what kind of creature it was he had killed.

But never was a fight managed so hardily, and in such a
surprising manner, as that which followed between Friday and
the bear, which gave us all (though at first we were surprised
and afrad for him) the greatest diversion imaginable. A
the bear is a heavy, clumsy creature, and does not gallop a
the wolf does, who is wift and light, so he has two particula

10amie

tte es

 

ei cence

  
  
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
  
   
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

218 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

qualities which generally are the rule of his actions; first, as to
men, who are not his proper prey (he does not usually attempt
them, except they first attack him, unless he be excessive hungry,
which it is probably might now be the case, the ground being
covered with snow), if you do not meddle with him, he will not
meddle with you; but then you must take care to be very civil
to him, and give him the road, for he is a very nice gentleman ;
he will not go a step out of his way for a prince; Day, if you are
realy afraid, your best way is to look another way, and keep going
on; for sometimes if you stop and stand still, and look steadfastly
at him, he takes it for an affront; but if you throw or toss any
thing at him, and it hits him (though it were but a bit of stick as
big as your finger), he thinks himself abused, and sets all other
business aside to pursue his revenge, and will have satisfaction
in point of honor ;—this is his first quality: the next is, if he be
once affronted, he will never leave you, night nor day, till he has
his revenge, but follows, at a good round rate, till he overtakes

delivered our guide, and when we came
him off his horse—for the man. was
both hurt and frightened—when on a sudden, we espied the bear
come out of the wood; and a vast monstrous one it was, the big-
gest by far that ever T saw. We were alla little surprised when
we saw him; but when Friday saw him, it was easy to see joy
and courage in the fellow’s countenance: ‘‘O, O, O!” says Friday,
three times pointing to him; “OQ, master! you give me te leave
me shakee te hand with him; me makee you good laugh.”

I was surprised to see the fellow so well pleased: ‘You fool,”
says I, “She will eat you up.”—‘‘Eatee me up! eatee me up ry
says Friday, twice over again ; “me eatee him up; me makee you
good laugh; you all stay here, me show you good laugh.” So
down he sits, and gets off his boots in a moment, and puts on a
pair of pumps (as we call the flat shoes they wear, and which he
had in his pocket), gives my other servant his horse, and with
his gun away he flew, swift like the wind.

The bear was walking softly on, and offered to meddle with
nobody till Friday, coming pretty near, calls to him, as if the bear
could understand him—“ Hark ye, hark ye,” says Friday, ‘me
speakee with you.” We followed at a distance: for now, being
come down on the Gascony side of the mountains, we were entered
a vast, great forest, were the country was plain and pretty open,
though it had many trees in it scattered here and there. Friday,
who had, as we say, the heels of the bear, came up with him quick-
ly and takes up a great stone and throws it at him, and hit him
just on the head, but did him no more harm than if he had thrown

you.
My man Friday had
up to him he was helpingROBINSON CRUSOE. 219

it against a wall; but it answered Friday’s end, for the rogue was
So void of fear that he did it purely to make the bear follow him,
and show us some laugh as he called it. As soon as the bear felt
the blow, and saw him, be turns-about and comes after him, tak-
ing devilish long strides, and shuffling on at a Strange rate, so as
would have put.a horse to a middling gallop; away runs Friday,
and takes his course as if he run towards us for help; so we all
resolved to fire at once upon the bear, and deliver my man ;
Though I was angry at him heartily for bringing the bear back
upon us, when he was going about his own business another
way; and especially I was angry that he had turned the bear
upon us, and then run away; and I called out, “You dog, is
this your making us laugh? Come away, and take your horse,
that we may shoot the creature.” He heard me, and cried
out, “No shoot, no shoot; stand sil, and you get much
laugh ;” and as the nimble creature ran two feet for the bear’s
one, he turned on a sudden, on one side of us, and seeing a
great oak tree fit for his purpose, he beckoned to us to fol-
low: and doubling his pace, he gets nimbly up the tree, lay-
ing his gun down upon the ground, at about five or six yards
from the bottom of the tree. The bear soon came to the tree,
and we followed at a distance ; the first thing he did, he
stopped at the gun, smelt to it, but let it lie, and up he scram-
bles into the tree, climbing like a cat, though so monstrous
heavy. I was amazed at the folly, as I thought it, of my man,
and could not for my life see any thing to laugh at yet, till see-
ing the bear get up the tree, we all rode near to him.

When we came to the tree, there was Friday got out to the
small end of a large branch, and the bear got about half way
to him. As soon as the bear got out to that part where the
limb of the tree was weaker,—‘‘ Ha!”’ says he to us, ‘now
you see me teachee the bear dance;” so he falls a jumping
and shaking the bough, at which the bear began to totter, but
stood still, and began to look behind him,-to see how he should
get back; then, indeed, we did laugh heartily. But Friday
had not done with him by a great deal; when, seeing him stand
still, he calls out to him again, as-if he had supposed the bear
could speak English, «What, you come no farther? pray
you come farther :”’ so he left jumping and shaking the tree ;
and the bear, just as if he understood what he said, did come
a little farther; then he fell a jumping again, and the bear~
stopped again. We thought now was a good time to knock
him in the head, and called to Friday to stand still, and we
would shoot the bear: but he cried out earnestly, ‘‘O pray!

) pray! no shoot; me shoot by and then;” he would have
said’ by and by. However, to shorten the story, Friday
danced so much, and the bear stood so ticklish, that we hadopen net

sopra a Rican pac Lee stan ARE

nen Bee 9

pe

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

laughing enough, but still could not imagine what the fellow

would do; for first we thought he depended upon shaking the

bear off; and we found the bear was too cunning for that too;

for he would not go out far enough to be thrown down, but

clings fast with his great broad claws and feet, so that we

could not imagine what would be the end of it, and what the

‘est would be at last. But Friday put us out of doubt quick-
ioe for seeing the bear cling -fast to. the bough, and that he
would not be persuaded to come any farther, ‘Well, well,”

says Friday, ‘‘you no come farther, me go; you no come to
me, me come to you;”’ and upon this he goes out to the
smatler end of the bough, where it.would:bend with his weight.
and gently lets himself down by it; sliding down the bough, till
he came near enough to jump down on<his feet, and away he
ruus to his gun, takes it up, and stands still. “ Well,” said I
to him, “Friday, what will you do now? Why don’t you
shoot him?”—‘* No shoot,” says Friday, ‘‘no yet; me shoot
now, me no kill; me stay, give you one more laugh:” and,
indeed, so he did, as you will sce presently ; for when the bear
saw his enemy gone, he comes back from the bough where he
stood, but did it mighty cautiously, looking behind him every
step, and coming backward till he got into the body of the
tree ; then, with the same hinder end foremost, he came down
the tree, grasping it with his claws, and moving one foot at aROBINSON CRUSOE, 894

time, very leisurely. At this juncture, and just before he
could set his hind foot on the eround, Friday stepped up close
to him, clapped the muzzle of his piece into his ear, and shot

 

es } Ny 4 ie}
him dead. ‘Then the rogue turned about to see if we did not
\ wheay } x 7 AT ver . ve le
laugh; and when he saw we were pleased, by our looks, he
go

falls a laughing himself very loud. ‘So we kill bear in my
country,” says Friday, ‘‘So you kill them? ”? says 1: ‘ why,
you have no euns.”’—‘* No,” says he, ‘‘no gun, but shoot
ereat much long arrow.” This was a good diversion to us;
but we were still in a wild place, and our guide very much
hurt, and what to do we hardly knew: the howling of wolves
ran much in my head; and, indeed, except the noise I once
heard on the shore of Africa, of which I have said something
already, I never heard any thing that filled me with so much
horror.

These things, and the approach of night, called us off, or
else, as Friday would have had us, we should certainly have
taken the skin of this monstrous creature off, which was worth
saving; but we had near three leagues to go, and our guide
hastened us; so. we left him, and went forward on our
journey. .

The ground was still covered with snow, though not so deep
and dangerous as on the mountains ; and the ravenous creatures,
as we. heard afterwards, were come down into the forest and
plain country, pressed by hunger, to seek for food, and had
done a great deal of mischief in the villages, where they sur-
prised the country people, killed a great many of their sheep
and horses, and some people too. We had one dangerous
place to pass, which our guide told us, if there were more
wolves in the country, we should find them there ; and this was
a small plain, surrounded with woods on every side, and a long,
narrow defile, or lane, which we were to pass to get through
the wood, and then we should come to the village where we
were to lodge. It was within half an hour of sunset when we
entered the first wood, and a little after sunset when we came
into the plain: we met with nothing in the first wood, except
that, in a little pla within the wood, which was not above
two furlongs over, we saw five great wolves cross the road, full
speed, one after another, as if they had been in chase of some
prey, and had it in view; they took no notice of us, and were
gone out of sight in a few moments. Upon this, our guide,
who, by the way, was but a faint-hearted fellow, bade us keep
in a ready posture, for he believed there were more wolves a
coming. Ve kept our arms ready, and our eyes about us;
but we saw no more wolves till we came through that wood,
which was near half a league, and entered the plain. As soon
as we came into the plain, we had occasion enough to look
about us; the first object we met with was a dead horse, thatoo

     
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

a 992 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

a is to say, a poor horse which the wolves had killed, and at
least a dozen of them at work, we could not say eating of him,
but picking of his bones, rather ; for they had eaten up all the
flesh before. We did not think fit to disturb them at their
feast, neither did they take much notice ofus. Eriday would
have let fly at them, but I would not suffer him by any means;
for [ found we were like to have more business upon our hands
than we were aware of. We were not gone half over the plain,
when we began to hear the wolves howl in the wood on our left
in a frightful manner, and presently after we saw about a hun-
dred coming on directly towards us, all in a body, and most
of them in a line, as regularly as an army drawn up by expe:
| rienced officers. I scarce knew in what manner to receive
i: | them; but found to draw ourselves in a close line was the only
' way ; so we formed in a moment; but that we might not have
FE too much interval, I ordered that only every other man should
1. fire, and that the others who had not fired should stand ready
to give them a second volley immediately, if they continued to
advance upon us; and then that those who had fired at first
should not pretend to load their fusees again, but stand ready
: every one with a pistol, for we were all armed with a fusce
: and a pair of pistols each man; so we were, by this method,
€ able to fire six volleys, half of us at a time: however, at present
¥ we had no necessity ; for upon firing the first volley, the enemy
! : made a full stop, being terrified as well with the noise as with
the fire; four of them, being shot in the head, dropped ; several
others were wounded, and went bleeding off, as we could see
by the snow. I found they stopped, but did not immediately
\ retreat; whereupon, remembering that I had been told that
f i the fiercest creatures were terrified at the voice of a man, |
: . caused all the company to halloo as loud as. we could; and |
Pie found the notion not altogether mistaken; for upon our shout
le 3 they began to retire, and turn about. I then ordered a second
Ves volley to be fired in their rear, which put them to the gallop,
tee and away they went to the woods. ‘This gave us leisure to
ie charge our pieces again; and that we might lose no time, we
f kept going: but we had but little more than loaded our fusces,
ey and put ourselves in readiness, when we heard a terrible noise
ity in the same wood, on our left, only that it was farther onward,
feat the same way we were to go.
Peed ct The night was coming on, and the light began to be dusk),
which made it worse on our side; but the noise increasing, W >
| could easily perceive that it was the howling and yelling of
hig those hellish creatures; and, on a sudden, we perceived tw)
or three troops of wolves, one on our left, one behind us, and
ee one in our front, so that. we seemed to be surrounded with
al og me them: however, as they did not fall upon us, we kept our way
Le farward, as fast as we could make our horses go, which, tic

 

ce seemed
ge OTETROBINSON CRUSOE.

way being very rough, was only a good hard trot. In thus
manner we came In view of the entrance of a wood, through
which we were to pass, at the farther side of the plain; but
we were greatly surprised, when, coming nearer the lane or
pass, we saw a confused number of wolves standing just at the
entrance. Onasudden, at another opening of the wood, we
heard the noise of a gun, and looking that way, out rushed a
horse, with a saddle and a bridle on him, flying like the wind,
and sixteen or seventeen wolves after him, full speed; indeed
the horse had the heels. of them, but as we supposed that he
could not hold it at that rate, we doubted not but they would
get up with him at last; no question but they did.

But here we had a most horrible sight; for riding up to the
entrance where the horse came out, we found the carcasses of
another horse and of two men, devoured by the ravenous crea-
tures; and one of the men was no doubt the same whom we
heard fire the gun, for there lay a gun just. by him fired off;
but as to the man, his head and the upper part of his body
were eaten up. This filled us with horror, and we knew not
what course to take; but the creatures resolved us soon, for
they gathered about us presently, in hopes of prey; and I
verily believe there were three hundred of them. It happened
very much to our advantage, that at the entrance into the
wood, but a little way from it, there lay some large timber-
trees, which had been cut down the summer before, and |
suppose lay there for carriage. I drew my little troop in
among those trees, and placing ourselves in a line behind one
jong tree, I advised them all to alight, and keeping that tree
before us for a breastwork, to stand in a triangle, or three
fronts, inclosing our horses in the centre. We did so, and it
was well we did; for never was a more furious charge than
the creatures made upon us in this place. They came on
with a growling kind of noise, and mounted the piece of tim-
ber, which, as | said, was our breastwork, as if they were only
rushing upon their prey ; and this fury of theirs, it seems, was
principally occasioned by their seeing our horses behind us
{ ordered our mén to fire as before, every other man; and they
took their aim so sure, that they killed several of the wolves
at the first volley ; but there was a necessity to keep a contin-
ual firing, for they came on like devils, those behind pushing
on those before.

When we had fired a second volley of our fusees, we thought
they stopped a little, and I hoped they would have gone off,
but it was but a moment, for ethers came forward again; so
we fired two volleys of our pistols ; and I believe in these four
firings we had killed seventeen or eighteen of them, and lamed
twice as many, yet they came on again. I was loath to spend
our shot too hastily; so I called my servant (not my mancenter

PER RMD SEES PEEP

NO iia 8

994 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

Friday, for he was better employed, for, with the greatest
dexterity imaginable, he had charged my fusee and his own
while we were engaged); but, as I said, I called my other
man, and giving him a horn of powder, I bade him lay a train
all along the piece of timber, and letit be alarge tran. He
did so; and had but just time to get away, when the wolves
came up to it, and some got upon it, when I, snapping an un-
charged pistol close to the powder, set it on fire; those that
were upon the timber were scorched with it, and six or seven
of them fell, or rather jumped in among us, with the force and
fright of the fire; we despatched these in an instant, and the
rest were so frightened with the light, which the night (for it
was now very near dark) made more terrible, that they drew
back a little ; upon which I ordered our last pistols to be fired
off in one volley, and after that we gave a shout: upon this
the wolves turned tail, and we sallied immediately upon near
twenty lame ones, that we found struggling on the ground,
and fell a cutting them with our swords, which answered our
expectation ; for the crying and howling they made was bet-
ter understood by their fellows; so that they all fled and
left us.

We had, first and last, killed about threescore of them; and
had it been daylight, we had killed many more. The field of
battle being thus cleared, we made forward again, for we had
still neur aivapue iugo. We heard the ravenous creatures how.
and yell in the woods as we went, several times, and some:
tunes we fancied we saw some of them, but the snow dazzling
our eyes, we were not certain: in about ‘an hour more we
came to the town whee we were-to lodge, which we found in
a terrible tright, and all in arms; for, it seems, the night be-
fore, the wolyes and some bears had broke into the village, and
put them in such terror, that they were obliged to keep guard
mght and day, but especially in the night, to preserve their
cattle, and, indeed, their people.

The next morning our guide was so ill, and his limbs swelled
so much with the rankhng of his two wounds, that he could go
no farther; so we were obliged to take a new-guide here, and
vo to Thoulouse, where we found a warm climate, a fruitful,
peasant country, and no snow, no wolves, nor any thing like
them; but when we told our story at Thoulouse, they told us
it was nothing but what was ordinary in the great forest at the
foot of the mountains, especially when the snow lay on the
ground ; but they inquired much what kind of a guide we had
got, who would venture to bring us that way in such a severe
season ; and told us it was surprising we were not all devoured.
When we told them how we placed ourselves, and the horses
in the middle, they blamed us exceedingly, and told us it was
fiity to ane but we had been all destroyed: for it was the sightROBINSON CRUSOE. 995

of the horses which made the wolves so furious, seeing their
prey ; and that, at other times, they are really afraid of a gun;
but being excessive hungry, and raging on that account, the
eagerness to come at the horses had made them senseless of
danger; and that if we had not, by the continued fire, and at
last by the stratagem of the train of powder, mastered them, it
had been great odds but that we had been torn to pieces;
whereas, had we been content to have sat still on horseback,
and fired as horsemen, they would not have taken the horses
so much for their own, when. men were on their backs, as
otherwise; and withal they told us, that at last, if we had stood
all together, and. left our horses, they would have been so
eager to nave devoured them, that we might have come off
safe, especially having our fire-arms in our hands, and being
so many in number. For my part, 1 was never so sensible of
danger in my life; for seeing above three hundred devils come
roaring and open-mouthed to devour us, and having nothing
to shelter us, or retreat to, I gave myself over for lost; and, as
it was, 1 believe I shall never care to cross those mountains
again ; I think I would much rather go a thousand leagues by
sea, though I was sure to meet with a storm once a week.

[have nothing uncommon to take notice of in my passage
through France,—nothing but what other travellers have given
an account of, with much more advantage than I can. 1
travelled from Thoulouse to Paris, and without any consider-
able stay came to Calais, and landed safe at Dover, the 14th
of January, after having a severe cold season to travel in.

I was now come to the centre of my travels, and had in a
little time all my new-discovered estate safe about me; the
bills of exchange which I brought with me having been very
currently paid.

My principal guide and privy counsellor was my good an-
cient widow; who, in gratitude for the money I had sent
her, thought no pains too much, nor care too great, to employ
for me; and I trusted her so entirely with every thing, that I
was perfectly easy as to the security of my effects; and,-in-
deed, I was very happy from the beginning, and_ now to the
end, in the unspotted integrity of this good gentlewoman.

And now, having resolved to dispose of my plantation in the
Brazils, | wrote to my old friend at Lisbon, who, having
offered it to the two merchants, the survivors of my trustees,
who lived in the Brazils, they accepted the offer, and remitted
thirty-three thousand pieces-of-eight to a correspondent of
theirs at Lisbon, to pay for it. : :

In return, I signed the instrument of sale in the form which
they sent from Lisbon, and sent it to my old man, who sent
me the bills of exchange-for 32,800 pieces-of-eight for the es-
tate; reserving the payment of 100 moidores a year to hin

 

 

Ris aCe T i926 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

(the old man) during his life, and 50 moidores afterwards to
his son for his life, which I had promised them; and which the
plantation was to make good as a rent-charge.

And thus I have given the first part of a life of fortune ana
adventure—a life of Providence’s checker-work, and of a vari-
ety which the world will seldom be able to show the like of;
beginning foolishly, but closing much more happily than any
part of it ever gave me leave so much as to hope for.

Any one would think, that in this state of complicated good
fortune, | was past running any more hazards, and so indeed
I had been, if other circumstances had concurred; but I was
inured to a wandering life, had no family, nor many relations;
nor, however rich, had I contracted much acquaintance; and
though I had sold my estate in the Brazils, yet I could not
keep that country out of my head, and had a great mind to be
upon the wing again; especially I could not resist the strong
inclination | had to see my island, and to know if the poor
Spaniards-were in being there. My true friend, the widow,
earnestly dissuaded me from it, and:so far prevailed with me,
that, for almost seven years, she prevented my running abroad ;
during which time I-took my two nephews, the children of one
of my brothers, inte my care: the eldest, having something of
his own, I bred up as a gentleman, and gave him a-settlement
of some addition to his estate, after my decease. The other I
put out to a captain of a ship; and after five years, finding
bein a sensible, bold enterprising young fellow, 1 put him into
a good ship, and sent him to sea; and this young fellow
afterwards drew me in, as old as I was, to farther adventures
myself.

In the mean time, [ in part settled myself here; for, first of
all, I married, and that not either to my disadvantage or dis-
satisfaction, and had three children, two sons and one daugh-
ter; but my wife dying, and my nephew coming. home with
good success from a voyage to Spam, my inclination to go
abroad, and his importunity, prevailed, and engaged me to go
in. his ship as a private trader to the East Indies: this was in
the year 1694.

In this voyage [ visited my new colony im the island, saw
my successors the Spaniards, had the whole story of their
lives, and of the villains I left there; how at first they insulted
the poor Spaniards ; how they afterwards agreed, disagreed, uni-
ted, separated; and how at last the Spaniards were obliged to
use violence with them ; how they were subjected to the Span-
gards; how honestly the Spaniards used them; a history; if it
were entered into, as full of variety and wonderful accidents as
my own part; particularly also as to their battles with the Ca-
ribbeans, who landed several times upon the island, and as to the
improvement they made upon the island itself; and how five
of them made an attempt upon the main land, and broughtROBINSON CRUSOE. 9927
away eleven men and five women prisoners; by which, at my
coming, | found about twenty young children on the island.

Here I staid about twenty days; left them supplies of all
necessary things, and particularly of arms, powder, shot,
clothes, tools, aud two workmen, which I brought from England
with me; viz. a carpenter and a smith.

Besides this, I shared the lands into parts with them, reserved
to myself the property of the whole, but gave them such parts
respectively, as they agreed on; and, having settled all things
with them, and engaged them not to eave the place, I left
them there.

From thence 1 touched at the Brazils, from whence I sent a
bark, which I bought there, with more people, to the island;
and in-it, besides other supplies, I sent seven women, being
such as | found proper for service, or for wives to such as
would take them. As to the Englishmen, I promised them to
send them some women from England, with a good cargo of
necessaries, if they would apply themselves to planting ; which
I afterwards could not perform: the fellows proved very honest
and diligent, after they were mastered, and had their properties
set apart for them. JT sent them also from the Brazils five
cows, three of them being big with calf, some sheep, and
some hogs, which, when I came again, were considerably
increased.

But all these things, with an.acceunt how three hundred
Caribbees came and invaded them, and ruined éheir plantations,
and how they fought with that whole number twice, and were
at first defeated and one of them killed; but at last a storm
destroying their enemies’ canoes, they famished or destroyed
almost all the rest, and renewed and recovered the possession
of their plantation, and still lived upon the island ;—all these
things, with some very surprising incidents in some new ad-
ventures of my own, for ten years more, I shall give a further
account of in another volume.

 

 

MUMFORD.setae

“EAD RPS

ee

 

ATR: ONE

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

YOLUME SECOND.

Ti1ar homely proverb used on so. many occasions in Eng-
land, viz. “ That what is bred in the bone will not go out of
the flesh,” was never more verified than in the story of my hfe.
Any one would think, that after thirty-five years’ affliction,
and a variety of unhappy circumstances, which few men, if
any, ever went through aa and after near seven years of
peace and enjoyment in the fulness of all things, grown old,
and when, if ever, it might be allowed me to have had expe-
rience of every state of middle life, and to know which was
most adapted to make a man completely happy ; I say, after
all this, any one would have thought that the native propensity
to rambling, which I gave an account of in my first setting out
in the world to have been so predominant in my thoughts,
should be worn out, the volatile part be fully evacuated, or at
least condensed, and I might, at sixty-one years of age. have
been a little inclined to’stay at nome, and have done venturing
life and fortune any more.

Nay, further, the common motive of foreign adventures was
taken away in me; for I had no fortune to make; [ had noth-LONESSGN, CRUSOE. 930

ing to seek: if [ had gained ten thousand pounds, I had been
no richer; for I ‘had already sufficient for me, and for those |
had to leave it to; and that I had was visibly increasing: for
having no great family, I could not spend the income of what
I had, unless I would set up for an expensive way of living,
such as a great family, servants, equipage, gayety, and the
like, which were things I had no notion of, or inclination to;
so that I had nothing indeed to do but to sit still, and fully
enjoy what I had got, and see it increase daily upon my hands.
Yet all these things had no effect upon me, or at least not
enough to resist the strong inclination I had to go abroad
again, which hung about me like a chronical distemper. In
particular, the desire of seeing my new plantation in the
island, and the colony I left there, ran in my head continually.
I dreamed of it all night, and my imagination ran upon it al]
day; 1t was uppermost in all my thoughts; and my fancy
worked so steadily and strongly upon it that I talked of it in
my sleep; in short, nothing could remove it out of my mind,
it even broke so violently into all my discourses, that it made
my conversation tiresome, for I could talk of nothing else; all
my discourse ran into it, even to impertinence ; and I saw it
in myself.

I have often heard persons of good judgment say, that all
the stir people make in the world about ghosts and apparitions,
is owing to the strength of imagination, and the powerful ope-
ration of fancy in their minds; that there is no such thing as
a spirit appearing, or a ghost walking, and the like; that
people’s poring affectionately upon the past conversation of
their deceased friends, so realizes it to them, that they are
capable of fancying, upon some extraordinary circumstances,
that they see them, talk to them, and are answered by them,
when, in truth, there is nothing but shadow and vapor in the
thing, and they really know nothing of the matter.

For my part, I know not to this hour whether there are any
such things as real apparitions, spectres, or walking of people
after they are dead; or whether there 1s any thing in the
stories they tell us of that kind, more than the product of
vapors, sick minds, and wandering fancies; ‘but this I know,
that my imagination worked up to such a height, and brought
me into such excess of vapors, or what else I may call it, that
I actually supposed myself often upon the spot, at my old
castle behind the trees; saw my old Spaniard, Friday’s father,
and the reprobate sailors I left upon the island; nay, I fancied
J talked with them, and looked at them steadily, though I was
broad awake, as at persons just before me ; and this I did till
I often frightened myself with the images my fancy repre-
sented to me. One time, in my sleep, I had the villany of the
three pirate sailors so lively related to me by the first Spaniard
and Friday’s father, that it was surprising : they told me howRR ALR MB YS NER IS at es AI ARE

ARR os OSE?

 

830 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

they barbarously attempted to murder all the Spaniards, and
that they set fire to the provisions they had laid up, on pur-
nose to distress and starve them; things that I had never
Hear of, and that, indeed, were never all of them true In fact,
but it was so warm in my imagination, and so realized to me,
that, to the hour I saw them, I could not be persuaded but
that it was, or would be, true; also how IL. resented it, when
the Spaniard complained to me; and how I brought them to
justice, tried them before me ; and ordered them all three to
be hanged. What there was really in this, shall be seen in its
place ; for however I came to form such things in my dream,
and what secret converse of spirits injected it, yet there was,
I say, much of it true. I own, that this dream had nothing in
it literally and specifically. true; but the general part was so
true, the base, villanous behavior of these three hardened rogues
was such, and had been so much worse than all I can describe,
that the dream had too much similitude of the fact; and as l
would afterwards have punished them severely, so, if I had
hanged them all, I had been much in the right, and even
should have been justified both by the laws of God and man.
But to return to my story: In this kind of temper I lived-some
years; I had no enjoyment of my life, no pleasant hours, no
agreeable diversion, but what had something or other of this
in it: so that my wife, who saw my mind wholly bent upon
it, told me very seriously one night, that she believed there
was some secret powerful impulse of Providence upon me,
which had determined me to go thither again; and that she
found nothing hindered my going, but my being engaged to
a wife and children. She told me, that it was true she could
not think of parting with me; but as she was assured, that if
she was dead, it would be the first thing I would do, so, as it
seemed to her that the thing was determined above, she would
not be the only obstruction ; for, if I thought fit, and resolved
to go Here she found me very intent upon her words, and
that I looked very earnestly at her, so that it a little disordered
her, and she stopped. J asked her, why she did not go on,
and say out what she was going to say. But I perceived that
her heart was too full, and some tears stood in her eyes.
Speak out, my dear,” saidI; “are you willing I should
go?”—“ No,” says. she, very affectionately, “I am far from
willing ; but if you are resolved to go,” says she, “ and rather
than [ would be the only hinderance, I will go with you;_for
though I think it a most preposterous thing for one of your
years, and in your condition, yet, if it must be,” said_she,
again weeping, “‘ I would not leave you; for, if it be of Heav-
en, you must do it: there is no resisting it: and if Heaven
make it your duty to go, he will also make it mine to go with
you, or otherwise dispose of me, that I mav not obstruct it.”ROBINSON CRUSOR. 23]

This affectionate behavior of my wife’s brought me a little
out of the vapors; and I began to consider what I was doing:
1 corrected my wandering fancy, and began to argue with
myself sedately, what business I had,-after threescore years,
and after such a life of tedious sufferings and disasters, and
closed in so happy and easy a manner; I say, what business
had I to rush into new hazards, and put myself upon adven-
tures fit only for youth and poverty to run into?

With those thoughts I considered my new engagement ;
that I had a wife, one child born, and my wife then great with
child of another; that I had all the world could give me, and
had no need to seek hazard for gain; that I was declining in
years, and ought to think rather of leaving what 1 had gained,
than of seeking to increase it; that as to what my wife had
said of its being an impulse from Heaven, and that it should
be my duty to go, I had no notion of that: so, after many of
these cogitations, I struggled with the power of my imagination,
reasoned myself out of it, as I believe people may always do
m like cases if they will: and, in a word, I conquered it;
composed myself with such arguments as occurred to my
thoughts, and which my present condition furnished me plen-
tifulby with; and particularly, as the most effectual method, I
resolved to divert myself with other things, and to engage in
some business that might effectually tie me up from any more
excursions of this kind; for I found that thing return upon me
chiefly when I was idle, and had nothing to do, nor any thing
of moment immediately before me. ‘I'o this purpose | bought
a little farm in the county of Bedford, and resolved to remove
myself thither. I had a little convenient house upon it; and
the land about it, I found, was capable of great improvement ;
and it was many ways suited to my inclination, which delight-
ed in cultivating, managing, planting, and improving of land ;
and particularly, being an inland country, I was removed
from conversing among sailors, and things relating to the re-
mote parts of the world. :

In a word, I went down to my farm, settled my family,
bought me ploughs, harrows, a cart, wagon, horses, cows, and
sheep, and, setting seriously to work, became, in one half
year, a mere country gentleman: my thoughts were entirely
taken. up in managing my servants, cultivating the ground,
inclosing, planting, &&c.; and I lived, as I thought, the most
Siareeabls life that nature was capable of directing, or that a
man always bred to misfortunes was capable of retreating to.

I farmed upon my own land; I had no rent to pay, was
limited by no articles; I could pull up or cut down as
pleased: what I planted was for myself, and what I improved
was for my fistilty 3 and having thus left off the thoughts of
wandering, I had not the least discomfort in any part 0 life as
to this world. Now] thought indeed that | enjoyec th. middle232 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

state of life which my father so earnestly recommended to me,
and lived a kind of heavenly life, something like what is de-
scribed by the poet, upon the subject of a country hife—

: Free from vices, free from care,

Age has no pain, and youth no snare.

 

But, in the middle of all this felicity, one blow from unseen
Providence unhinged me at once ; and not only made a breach
upon me inevitable and incurable, but drove me, by its con-
sequences, into a deep relapse of the wandering disposition,
which, as | may say, being born in my very blood, soon re-
covered its hold of me, and, 1ike the returns of a violent dis-
temper, came on with an irresistible force upon me, so that
nothing could make any more impression upon me. ‘This
blow was the loss of my wife. It is not my business here to
write an elegy upon my wife, give a character of her particu-
lar virtues, and make my court to the sex by the flattery of a
funeral sermon. She was, in a few words, the-stay of all my
affairs, the centre of all my enterprises, the engme that, by
her prudence, reduced me to that happy compass I was in,
from the most extravagant and ruinous project that fluttered
in my head, as above, and did more to guide my rambling
genius than a mother’s tears, a father’s instructions, a friend’s
counsel, or all my own reasoning powers could do. I was
happy in listening to her tears, and in being moved by her en-
treaties; and to the last degree Cesolate and dislocated in the
world by the loss of her.

When she was gone, the world looked awkwardly round me
I was as much a stranger in it, in my thoughts, as I was in
the Brazils, when I first went on shore there; and as much
alone, except as to the assistance of servants, as | was. in my
island. I knew neither what to think nor what to do. I saw
the world busy around me; one part laboring for bread,
another part squandering in vile excesses or empty pleasures,
equally miserable, because the end they proposed still fled from
them; for the men of pleasure every day surfeited of their
vice, and heaped up work for sorrow and repentance; and
the men of labor spent their strength in daily struggling for
bread to maintain the vital strength they labored with; so
living in a daily circulation of sorrow, living but to work, and
working but to live, as if daily bread were the only end of weari-
some life, and a wearisome life the only occasion of daily bread.

pe : 4 | :

_ his put me in mind of the life I lived in my kingdom, the
island; where I suffered no more corn to grow, because I did
not want it; and bred no more goats, because I had no more
use for them; where the money lay in the drawer till it grew
mouldy, and had scarce the favor to be looked upon in twenty
years.

All these things, had Limproved them as Lought to haveROBINSON CRUSOE. 2338

done, and as reason and religion had: dictated to me, would
ave ‘taught me to search fartfier than human enjoy mer its for

he
a full felicity ; and that there was something w hich certainly
a

was the reason and end of life, superior to all these things, and
which \ was ‘ics { ed, or at least hoped for, on this
side the grave.

But my sage: counsellor;was gone; I was like a ship with-
out a pilot, that could only run afore the wind; my thoughts
ran all away: again into the old affair: my head was quite
turned with the whimseys of foreign adventures; and all the
pleasant, immocent amusements of my farm, my garden, my

cattle, and my family, which~before entirely possesse d’ me,
were nothing to me, ha 1d no relish, and were like music to one
that has no ear, or food to one that has no taste; in a word, 1
resolved to leave off house-keeping, let my farm, ‘and return to
London; and in a few months after, I did so.

When- 1 came to-London, I was still as uneasy as I was be-
fore; I had no relish for the place, no employment es ibs
nothing to do but to saunter about like an idle person, of whom
it may be said he is perfectly useless in God's s creation, and it
is not one farthing’s matter to the rest of his kind whether he
be dead or alive. This also was the thing which, of all cir-
cumstances of life, was the most my aversion, w ho had been
all my days used to an active life; and I would often say to
myself. ‘A state of idleness is the very dregs of life:” and
indeed [ thought 1 was much more suitably employ ed when 1
was twenty-six days making me a deal board.

It was now the beet inning of the year 1693, when my nephew,
whom, as I have observed bef ore, I had brought up to the sea,
and had made him commander of a ship, was come home from
a short voyage to Bilboa, being the first he had made. He
came to me, and told me that some merchants of his acc juaint-
ance had been prop osing to him to go a voyage for them to
the East Indies and to China, as private trac ders.—‘« And now,
uncle,’ says he, “if you will gO to sea with me, I will engage
to land you upon your old habitation in the island ; for we are
to touch at the Brazils.”

Nothing can be a greater demonstration of a future state,
and of the existence of an invisible world, than the concur-
rence of second causes with the ideas of things which we form
in our minds, perfectly reserved, and not acme ited to any
in the world.

My nephew knew nothing how far_my distemper of wan-
dering was returned upon me, and I knew nothing of what
he had in: his thought to say, w hen that very morning, before
he came to me, | i ad, in a ore: it deal of confusion of thought,
and revolving every part of my circumstances In my mind,
come to this resolution, viz. that I would go to Lisbon, and
consult with my old sea-captain; and so, “if it was rational
and practicable, I would go and see the island again, anc seesates og APRS oA DET nearest

 

234 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

what was become of my people there. I had pleased myself
with the thoughts of peopling the place, and carrying inhab-
itants from hence, getting a patent for the possession, and I
knew not what; when, in the middle of all this, i comes my
nephew, as I have said, with his project of carrymg me thither
in his way to the East Indies.

i paused a while at his words, and, looking steadily at him,
“What devil,” said I, ‘“‘sent you on this unlucky errand ?
My nephew stared, as if he had been frightened, at first; but

erceiving that I was not much displeased with the proposal,
he recovered himself. “I hope it may not_be an unlucky
proposal, sir,” says he; “I dare say you would be pleased to
see your new colony there, where you once reigned with
more felicity than most of your brother monarchs in the world.”

In a word, the scheme hit so exactly with my temper, tnat
is to say, the prepossession I was under, and of which { have
said so much, that I told him, in a few words, if he agreed
with the merchants, I would go with him; but I told him I
would not promise to go any farther than my own island.
“Why, sir,” says he, ‘‘ you don’t want to be left there again,
I hope?’”’—‘‘ Why,” said I, ‘can you not take me up again
on your return?’ He told me it would not be possible to do
so; that the merchants would never allow him to come that
way with a laden ship of such value, it being a month’s sail
out of his way, and might be three or four. ‘“‘ Besides, sir,
if | should miscarry,” said he, ‘‘ and not return at all, then
you would be just reduced to the condition you were in
before.”

This was very rational; but we both found-out a remedy for
it; which was, to carry a framed sloop on board the ship,
which, being taken in pieces, and shipped on board the ship,
might, by the help of some carpenters, whom we agreed to
carry with us, be set up again in the island, and finished, fit
to go to sea in a few days.

1 was not long resolving; for indeed the importunities of
my nephew joined so effectually with my inclination, that
nothing could oppose me; on the other hand, my wife being
dead, I had nobody concerned themselves so much for me as
to persuade me to one way or the other, except my ancient
good friend the widow, who earnestly struggled with me to
consider my years, my easy circumstances, and the needless
hazards of a long voyage; and, above all, my young children.
But it was all to no purpose ;—I had an irresistible desire to
the voyage; and I told her I thought there was something so
uncommon in the impressions I had upon my mind for the
voyage, that it would be a kind of resisting Providence if I
should attempt to stay at home; after which she ceased her
ex postulations, and joined with me, not only in making pro-” Meee: SGM Soe See eS

  

ROBINSON CRUSOE. 235

vision for my voyage, but also in settling my family affairs for
my absence, and providing for the education of my children.

In order to this, I made my will, and settled the estate I
had in such a manner for my children, and placed in such
hands, that I was perfectly easy and satisfied they would have
justice done them, whatever might befall me; and for their
education, I left it wholly to the widow, with a sufficient main-
tenance to herself for her care; all which she richly deserved,
for no mother could have taken more care in their education,
or understood it better; and as she lived till I came home, I
also lived to thank her for it.

My nephew was ready to sail about the beginning of Janu-
ary, 1694-5; and I, with my man Friday, went on board in the
Downs the 8th; having, besides that sloop which I mentioned
above, a very considerable cargo of all kinds of necessary things
for my colony; which, if I did not find in good condition, I
resolved to leave so.

First, I carried. with me some servants, whom I purposed to
place there as inhabitants, or at least to set on work there, upon
my account, while I staid, either to leave and them there, or
carry them forward, as they would appear willing ; particularly,
I carried two carpenters, a smith, and avery handy, ingenious
fellow, who was a cooper by trade, and wasalso a general mechan-
ic ; for he was dextrous at making wheels, and hand-mills to
grind corn, was a good turner, anda good pot-maker ; he also
made any thing that was proper to make of earth or of wood ;
in a word we called him our Jack-of-all-trades. With these I
carried a tailor, who had offered himself to go a passenger to
the East Indies with my nephew, but afterwards consented to
stay on our new plantation, and proved a most necessary,
handy fellow, as could be desired, in many other businesses
besides that of his trade; for, as I observed formerly, Neces-
sity arms us for all employments.

My cargo, as near as I can recollect,—for I have not kept ac-
count of the particulars,—consisted of a sufficient quantity of
linen, and-some English thin stuffs, for clothing the Spaniards
that I .expected to find there; and enough of them, as, by my
calculation, might comfortably supply them for seven years.
{f [ remember right, the materials [ carried for clothing them,
with gloves, hats, shoes, stockings, and all such things as they
could want for wearing, amounted to above two hundred pounds,
including some beds, bedding, and household stuff, particular-
ly kitchen-utensils, with pots, kettles, pewter, brass, &c., and
near a hundred pounds more-in iron-work, nails, tools of every
kind, staples, hooks, hinges, and every necessary thing | could
think of.

I carried also a hundred spare arms, muskets, and fusees ;
besides some pistols, a considerable quantity of shot of all sizes,
three or four tons of lead, and two pieces of brass cannon ; andAMEE

 

236 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
because I knew not what time and what extremities I was pro-
iding for, I carried a hundred barrels of powder, besides
swords, cutlasses, and the iron part of some pikes and hal-
hords: so that, in short, we had a large magazine of all sorts of

s; and I made my nephew carry two small quarter-deck
guns more than he wanted for his ship, to leave behind, if there
was occasion ; that, when we came there, we might build a fort,
and man it against all sorts of enemies; and, indeed, I at first
thought there would be need enough for all, and much more,
if we hoped to maintain our possession of the island, as shall
be seen in the course of that story.

I had not such bad luck in this voyage asT had been used to
meet with, and therefore shall have the less occasion to inter-
rupt the reader, who perhaps may be impatient to hear how
matters went with my colony; yet some odd accidents, cross
winds, and bad weather, happened on this first setting out,
which made the voyage longer than I expected it-at first; and
I, who had never made but one voyage, viz. my first voyage to
Guinea, in which I might be said to come back again, as the
voyage was at first designed, began to think the same ill fate at-
tended me, and that I-was born to be never contented with
being on shore, and yet to be always unfortunate at sea.

Contrary winds first put us to the northward, and we were
obliged to put in at Galway, in Ireland, where we lay wind-
bound two-and-twenty days; but we had this satisfaction with
the disaster, that provisions were here exceeding cheap, and in
the utmost plenty ; so that while we lay here, we never touched
the ship’s stores, but rather added to them. Here, also, I took
in several live hogs, and two cows, with their calves; which I
resolved, if I had a good passage, to put onshore in my island 5
but we found occasion to dispose otherwise of them.

We set out on the 5th of February from Ireland, and had a
very fair gale of wind for some days. As I remember, it might
be about the 20th of February, in the evening late, when the
mate, having the watch, came into the round-house, and told
us he saw a flash of fire, and heard a gun fired; and while. he
was telling us of it, a boy came in, and told us the boatswain
heard another. This made us all run out upon the quarter-
deck, where, for a while, we heard nothing ; but in a few min-
utes we saw a very great light, and found that there was some
very terrible fire at a distance : immediately we had recourse to
our reckonings, in which we all agreed, that there could be no
Jand that way in which the fire showed itself, no, not for five
hundred leagues, for it appeared at W. N. W. Upon this we
concluded it must be some ship on fire at sea 5 and as, by our
hearing the noise of guns just before, we concluded that it
could not be far off, we stood directly towards it, and were pres-
ently satisfied we should discover it, because, the farther we
sailed, the greater the light appeared ; though, the weather be-

* 4 s-~=aeive any thing ‘but the light for aROBINSON CRUSOE.

while. In about half an hour’s sailing, the wind being fair for
us, though not much of it, and the weather clearing up a little,
we could plainly discern that it was a great ship on fire, in the
middle of the sea.

I was most sensibly touched with this disaster, though not at
all acquainted with the persons engaged in it: I presently rec-
ollected my former circumstances, and in what condition [
was in, when taken up by the Portuguese captain; and. how
much more deplorable the circumstances of the poor creatures
belonging to that ship must be, if they had no other ship in
company with them. Upon this, I immediately ordered that
five guns should be fired, one soon after another; that, if pos-
sible, we might give notice to thei that there was help for them
at hand, and that they might endeavor to save themselves in
their boat ; for though we could see the flames of the ship, yet
they, it being night, could see nothing of us.

We lay by some time, upon this, only driving as the burning
ship drove, waiting for daylight; when, on a sudden, to our
great terror, though we had reason to expect it, the ship blew
up in the air; and immediately, that is to say, in a few minutes,
all the fire was out, that is to say, the rest of the ship sunk.
This was a terrible and indeed an afflicting sight, for the sake
of the poor men, who, I concluded, must be either all destroy-
ed in the ship, or be in the utimost distress in their boat, in the
middle of the ocean ; which, at present, by reason it was dark,
I could not see. However, to direct them as well as T could,
I caused lights to be hung out in all the parts of the ship where
we could, and which we had lanthorns for, and kept firing guns
all the night long ; letting them know, by this, that there was a
ship not far off. ;

About eight o’clock.in the morning, we discovered the ship’s
boats by the help of our perspective glasses ; found there were
two of them, both thronged with people, and deep in the water.
We perceived they rowed, the wind being against them; that
they saw our ship, and did their utmost to make us see them.

We immediately spread our ancient, to let them know we
saw them, and hung a waft out, as a_ signal for them to come
on board ; and then made more sail, standing directly to them.
In little more than half an hour, we came up with them ; and,
in a word, took them all-in, being no less than sixty-four men,
women, and children; for there were a great many passengers.

Upon the whole, we found it was a French merchant ship of
three hundred tons, home-bound from Quebec, in the river of
Canada. The master gave us a long account of the distress of
his ship; how the fire began in the steerage, by the negligence
of the steersman, but on his crying out for help, was, as every
body thought, entirely put out; but they soon found that some
sparks of the first fire had gotten into some part of the ship so
ifficult to come at, that they could not effectually quench it.238 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
and afterwards getting in between the timbers, and within the
ceiling of the ship, it proceeded into the hold, and mastered all
the skill and all the application they wer2 able to exert.

They had no more to do then but t» get into their boats,
which, to their great comfort, were pcetty large; being their
long-boat, and a great shailop, besides a small skiff, which was
of no great service to them, other than to get some fresh water and
provisions into her, after they had secured their lives from the
fire. They-had, indeed, small hope of their lives by getting
into these boats, at that distance from any land; only, as they
said well, that they were escaped from the fire, and a possibility
that some ship might happen to be at sea, and might take them
in. They had sails, oars, and a compass ; and were preparing
to make the best of their way back to Newfoundland, the wind
blowing pretty fair, for it blew an easy gale at S. E. by E.
They had as much provision and water, as, with sparing it so
as to be next door to starving, might support them about twelve
days; in which, if they had no bad weather, and no contrary
winds, the captain said he hoped he might -get to the Banks
of Newfoundland, and might perhaps take some fish, to sustain
them till they might go on shore. But there were so many
chances against them in all these cases, such as storms, to
overset and founder them; rains and cold, to benumb and per-
ish their limbs; contrary winds, to keep them out and starve
them ; that it must have been next to miraculous if they had
escaped.

In the midst of their consternation, every one being hope-
less and ready to despair, the captain, with tears in his eyes,
told me they were on a sudden surprised with the joy of hear-
ing a gun fire, and after that four more; these were the five
guns which I caused to be fired at first seeing the ight. ‘This
revived their hearts, and gave them the notice, which, as
above, I desired it should, viz. that there was a ship at hand
for their help. It was upon the hearing of these guns, that
they took down their masts and sails: the sound coming from
the windward, they resolved to lie by till morning. Some
time after this, hearing no more guns, they fired three muskets,
one a considerable while after another ; but these, the wind be-
ing contrary, we never heard.

Some time after that again, they were still more agreeably
surprised with seeing our lights, and hearing the guns which,
as ee said, I caused to be fired all the rest of the night : this
set them to work with their oars, to keep their boats ahead, at
least, that we might the sooner come up with them; and, at
last, to their inexpressible joy, they found we saw them.

It is impossible for me to express the several gestures, the
strange ecstasies, the variety of postures, which these poor de-
livered people ran into to express the joy of their souls at so
unexpected a deliverance. Grief and fear are easily described ;ROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

sighs, tears, groans, and a very few motions of the head and
hands, make up the sum of its variety ; but an excess of joy, a
surprise of joy, has a thousand extravagances in it: there were
same in tears; some raging and tearing themselves, as if they
had been in the greatest agonies of sorrow ; some stark raving,
and downright lunatic ; some ran about the ship stamping with
their feet, others wringing their hands; some were dancing,
some singing, some laughing, more crying ; many quite dumb,
not able to speak a word; others sick and vomiting; several
swooning, and ready to faint; and a few were crossing them-
selves, and giving God thanks.

I would not wrong them neither; there might be many that
were thankful afterwards, but the passion was too strong for
them at first, and they were not able to master it: they were
thrown into ecstasies and a kind of frenzy; and it was but a
very few that were composed and serious in their joy. _

Perhaps, also, the case may have some addition to it from
the particular circumstance of that nation they belonged to; I
mean the French, whose temper is allowed to be more volatile,
more passionate, and more sprightly, and their spirits more
fluid, than in other nations. am not philosopher enough to
determine the cause; but nothing I had ever seen before came
up to it. The ecstasies poor Friday, my trusty savage, was in,
when he found his father in the boat, came the nearest to it;
and the surprise of the master and his two companions, whom©

id a OAD ROBINSON CRUSOE.

i delivered from the villains that set them on shore in the
island, came a little way towards it; but nothing was to compare
to this, either that I saw in Friday, or any where else in
my life.

It is further observable, that these extravagances did not

show themselves, in-that different: manner I have mentioned,

| in different persons only ; but all the variety would appear, in
a short succession of moments, in one and the same. person.
A man that %esaw this-minute dumb, and-as it were stupid

and confounded, would: the next minute be dancing-and_hal-

looing like an antic ;-and, the next moment be tearing his hair,

or pulling his.clothes to preces, and stamping them under iis

{ feet, like a madman; ina few moments after that, we would

i have him all-in tears,-then sick, swooning, and; had not imme-

diate help been had, he would in a few. moments have been

dead ;-and thus it was, not with one or two, or ten or: twenty,
but with the greatest part of them; and, if I remember right,
our surgeon was obliged to let blood of about thirty of them.

There were two priests among them, one an old man, and
the other a young-man; and that which was-strangest was, the
oldest man was the worst. As soonashe set-his foot on board
‘ our ship, and saw himself safe, he dropped down stone-dead, to
e all appearance; not the least-sign of life could be perceived in

: him: our surgeon immediately applied proper remedies to _re-
cover him, and: was the only man in the ship that believed he
a was not dead. At length he opened a vein in his arm, having
‘ first chafed and rubbed the part, so as to warm it as much ‘as
: i ossible: upon this the blood, which only dropped at fifst,

fi i owing freely, in three minutes after the man opened his eyes;
ie f and a quarter of an hour after that he spoke, grew better, and

f in a little time quite well. After the blood was stopped, he

el) Be walked about ; told us he was perfectly well; took a dram of

ee cordial, which the surgeon gave him, and was what we call come
to himself. About a quarter of an hour after this, they came run-
ning into the cabin to the surgeon, who was bleeding a French
woman. that had fainted, and told him-the priest was gone stark
ita mad. It seems he had begun to revolve the change of his cir-
cumstances in his mind, and again this put him into an ecstasy

f of joy : his spirits whirled about faster than the vessels could

convey them; the blood grew hot and feverish, and the man

was as fit for Bedlam as any creature that ever was in it: the

surgeon would not bleed him again in that condition, but gave

aa i him something to doze and put him to sleep, which, after some

te time, operated upon him, and he awoke next morning perfectly
composed and well.

The younger priest behaved with great command of his
passions, and was really an example of a serious, well-governed
ea td mind ; at his first coming on board the ship, he threw himself
ead flat on his face, prostrating himself in thankfulness for his de-ROBINSON CRUSOE. 241

liverance, in which [I unhappily and unseasonably disturbed
him, really thinking he had been in a swoon; but he spoke
calmly, thanked me, told me he was giving God thanks for
his deliverance ; begged me to leave him a few moments, and
that, next to his Maker, he would give me thanks also.

I was heartily sorry that I disturbed him, and not only left

@

 

him, but kept others from imterrupting him also. He con-
tinued in that posture about three minutes, or little more, after
I left him; then came to me, as he had said he would, and,

with a great deal of seriousness and affection, but with tears

in his eyes, thanked me, that had, under God, given him, and
so many miserable creatures, their lives. I told him I had na
room to move him to thank God for it, rather than me, io: i
had seen that he had done that already; but I added, that it
was nothing but what reason and humanity dictated to all
men, and that we had as much reason as he to give thanks to
God, who had blessed us:so far as to make us the instruments
of his mercy to so many of his creatures.

After this the young priest applied himself to his country
folks; labored to compose them;_ persuaded, entreated, ar-
gued, reasoned with them, and did his utmost to keep them
within the exercise of their reason; and with some he had
success, though others were for a time out of all government
of themselves.

1 cannot help committing this to writing, as perhaps it may
be useful to those into whose hands it may fall, for the guiding
themselves in all the extravagances of their passions; for if an
excess of joy can. carry men out to such a length beyond the
reach of their reason, what will not the extravagances of anger,
rage, and a provoked mind, carry us to? And, indeed, here
I saw reason for keeping an exceeding watch over our pas-
sions of every kind, as well those of joy and satisfaction, as
those of sorrow and anger.

We were something disordered, by these extravagances
among our new guests, for the first day ; but when they hed
been retired, lodgings provided for them as well as our lap
would allow, and they had slept heartily,—as most of them did,
being fatigued and frightened,—they were quite another sort
of people the next day. :

Nothing of good manners, or civil acknowledgments for the
kindness shown them, was wanting: the French, it is known,
are naturally apt enough to exceed that way. The captain
and one of the priests came to me the next day, and desired
to speak with me and my nephew: the commander began to
consult with us what should be done with them ; and, first,
they told us that we had saved their lives, so all they had was
little enough for a return to us for that kindness received.
The captain said they had saved some money, and some things
of value, in their boats, catched hastily out of the flames, and
if we would accept it, they were ordered to make an offer of

LJQA ROBINSON CRUSOE.

it all to us; they only desired to be set on shore somewhere in
our way, where, if possible, they might get a passage to France.
( anc

   
 
  
  

   
  
      

  

My uenhew was for accepting their money at first word, i
> a+ vos Weer weal cre at + J eae }
to conside With ; afterwards; but 1 overruled
him in that part, for I knev iit to be set on in
1 } [ T iE ’ VY
a strange country ;-and Portue > tain

 

i 2
me up at sea had served me so, and took all I had y de
liverance, I must have starved, or have been as much a slave
at the Brazils as 1 had been at Barbary, the mere being sold
x9 a Mahometan excepted; and perhaps a Portuguese Is not a
much better master than a Turk, if not, in some cases, much
worse. :

I therefore told the French captain that we had taken them !
up in their distress, it was true, but that it was our duty to do
so, as we were fellow-creatures ; and we would desire to be so
delivered, if we were in the like, or any other extremity; that
we had done nothing for them but what we believed they
would have done for us, if we had been in their case, and they
in ours; but that we took them up to save them, not to plun-
der them; and it would be a most barbarous thing to take
that little from them which they had saved out of the fire,
and then set them on shore and leave, them; that this would
be first to sive them from death, and then kill them ourselves ;
save them from drowning, and. abandon them to starving ;
and therefore | would not let the least thing be taken from
them. As to setting ‘them on shore, I told them, indeed,
that was an exceeding difficulty to us, for that the ship was
bound to the East Indies; and though we were driven out
of our course to the westward a very great way, and perhaps
were directed by Heaven on purpose for their deliverance,
yet it was impossible for us wilfully to change our voyage on
their particular account; nor could my nephew, the captain,
answer it to the freighters, with whom he was under charter-
pert to pursue his voyage by the way of Brazil; and all I
cnew we could do for them, was to put ourselves in the way
of meeting with other ships homeward-bound from the West
Indies, and get them a passage, if possible, to England or
France.

The first part of the proposal was so generous and kind,
they could not but be very thankful for it; but they were in
avery great consternation, especially the passengers, at the
notion of being carried away to the East Indies: they then en-
treated me, that, seeing I was driven so far to the westward before
I met with them, I would at least keep on the same course to
the Banks of Newfoundland, where it was probable I migh
meet with some ship or sloop that they might hire to carry
them back to Canada, from whence they came.

| thought this was but a reasonable request on their part,
and therefore I inclined to agree to it; for, indeed, I consid-ROBINSON CRUSOE. 243
ered, that to carry this whole company to the East Indies,
would not only be an intolerable severity upon the poor peo.
ple, but would be ruining our waole voyage,-by devouring all
our provisions ; so I thought it no breach of charter-party, but
what an unforeseen accident made absolutely necessary to us
and in which no one could say we were to blame ; for the
of God and nature would have forbid that we should refuse to
tale up two boats full of people in sucha distressed condition ;
and the nature of the thing, as well respecting ourselves as
the poor people, obliged us to set them on shore somewhere
or other for their deliverance; so I consented that we would
carry them to Newfoundland, if wind and weather would per-
mit; and if not, that I would carry them to Martinico, in the
West Indies.

The wind continued fresh easterly, but the weather pretty
z00d ; and as the winds had continued in the points between
IN. K. and S. E. a long time, we missed cereal opportunities
of sending them to France ; for we met several ships bound to
Europe, whereof two were French, from St. Christopher’s ;
but they had been so long beating up against the wind, that
they durst take in no passengers, for fear of wanting pro-
visions for the voyage, as well for themselves as for those they
should take in; so we were obliged to go on. It was about
a week after this that we made the Banks of Newfound-
land; where, to shorten my story, we put all our French peo-
ple on board a bark, which they hired at sea there, to put
them on shore, and afterwards to carry them to France, if
they could get provisions to victual themselves with. When I
say all the French went on shore, I should remember, that the
young priest I spoke of, hearing we were bound to the East
Indies, desired to go the voyage with us, and to be set on
s» re on the coast of Coromandel; which I readily agreed to,
for I wonderfully liked the man, and had very good reason, as
will appear afterwards: also four of the seamen entered them-
selves on our ship, and proved very useful fellows.

From hence we directed our course for the West Indies,
#teering away S. and S. by E. for about twenty days together,
sometimes little or no wind at all, when we met with another

subject for our humanity to work upon, almost as deplorable

as that before.
lt was in the latitude of 27 degrees 5 minutes north, on the
19th day of March, 1694-5, when we spied a sail, our course

S. E. and by S.: we soon perceived it was a large vessel, and

that she bore up to us, but could not at first know what to

make of her, till, after coming a little nearer, we found she
had lost her main-topmast, foremast, and bowsprit ; and pres-
ently she fired a gun, as a signal of distress: the weather
was pretty good, wind at N. N. W., a fresh gale, and we soon
came to speak with her.

?

VSSET as See

  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
   
   
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
  
 
 
   
  
   
   
 
 
  
  
 
  
 
   
  
  
  
 
  
 

k Q44 ROPINSON CRUSOE.

- We found her a ship of Bristol, bound home from Barbadoes,

but had been blown out of the road at Barbadoes, a few days

before she was ready to sail, by a terrible hurricane, while the

captain and chief mate were both gone’ on shore; so that, be- @

sides the terror of the storm, they were in an indifferent case

for good artists to bring the ship home. They had been al-

ready nine weeks at sea, and had met with another terrible

storm, after the hurricane was over, which had blown them

: quite out of their knowledge ta the westward, and in which
they had lost their masts, as above. ‘They told us they ex-

pected to have seen the Bahama Islands, but were then driven
away again to the south-e

f
ast, by a-strong gale of wind at
i | N. N. W., the same that blew now: and having no sails to
i work the ship with but a main-course, and a kind of square-
sail upon a jury-foremast, which they had set up, they could
not lie near the wind, but were endeavoring to stand away for
the Canaries.
But that which was worst of all was, that they were almost
starved for want of provisions, besides the fatigues they had
E 4 undergone: their bread and fiesh were quite gone: they had
¢ not one ounce left in the ship, and had none for eleven days.
he only relief they had was, their water was not all spent,

a e and they had about half a barrel of flour left; they had sugar
' ' enough ; some succades, or sweetmeats, they had at first, but
. they were devoured: and they had seven casks of rum.
; | here were a youth and his mother, and a maid-servant, on

passengers, and thinking the ship was
y came on board the evening before the
of their own left,

board, who were going
ready to sail, unhappil

4 f hurricane began; and having no provisions

ny ' they were in a more deplorable condition than the rest; for
ere the seamen, being reduced to such an extreme necessity them-
tet } selves, had no compassion, we may be sure, for the poor pas-
ie sengers; and they were, indeed, in a condition that their
misery is very hard to describe.

f had perhaps not known this part, if my curiosity had not
led me (the weather being fair, and the wind abated) to go on
‘board the ship. ‘The second mate, who, upon this occasion,
commanded the ship, had been on board our ship, and he told
me, indeed, they had three passengers in the great cabin, that
ca ak were ina deplorable condition. “ Nay,” says he, ‘I believe
His they are dead, for I have heard nothing of them for above two
ea i days; and I was afraid to inquire after them,” said he, “‘ for |
oa had nothing to relieve them with.”
| We immediately applied ourselves to give them what relief
eee we could spare ; cna, indeed, I had so far overruled things
are Ci with my nephew, that I would have victualled them, though
Ol | we had gone away to Virginia, or any other part of the coast
Bulb of America, to have supplied ourselves; but tliere was no ne-
cessity for that.

But now they were in a new danger; for they were afraidROBINSON CRUSOE. 24%

of eating too much, even of that little we gave them. The
mate or commander brought six men with him in his boat: but
these poor wretches locked like skeletons, and were so weak,
that they could hardly sit to their oars. The mate himself was
very ill, and half starved; for he declared he had reserved
nothing from the men, and went share and ‘share alike with
them in every bit they ate.

I cautioned him ‘to eat sparingly, but set meat before him
immediately ; and he had not eaten three mouthfuls before he
began to be sick, and out of order; so he stopped awhile, and

ur surgeon mixed him up something with some broth, which
he said would be to’ him both food and physic; and after
he had taken it, he grew better -Jn the mean time I forgot not
the men: I ordered victuals to be given them; and the poor
creatures rather devoured than ate it: they were so exceeding
hungry, that they were in a kind ravenous, and had no com-
mand of themselves; and two of them ate with so much
greediness, that they were in danger of their lives the next
morning.

The sight of these people’s distress was very moving to me,
and brought to mind wnat I had a terrible prospect of at my
first coming on shore in my island, where I had never the least
mouthful of food, or any prospect of procuring any; besides
the hourly apprehensions I had of being made the food of
other creatures. But all the while the mate was thus relating
to me the miserable condition of the ship’s company, | could
not put out of my thought the story he had told me of the three
poor creatures in the great cabin, viz. the mother, her son, and
the maid-servant, whom he had heard nothing of for two or
three days, and whom, he seemed to. confess, they had wholly
neglected, their own extremities being so great; by which |
understood, that they had really given them no food at all, and
that therefore they must be perished, and be all lying dead,
perhaps, on the floor or deck of the cabin.

As I therefore kept the mate, whom we then called captain,
on board with his men, to refresh them, so I also forgot not
the starving crew that were left on board; but ordered my own
boat to go on board the ship, and, with my mate and twelve
men, to carry them a sack of bread, and four or five pieces of
beef to boil. Our surgeon charged the men to cause the meat
to be boiled while they staid, and to keep guard in the cook-
room, to prevent the men taking it to eat raw, or. taking it out
of the pot before it was well boiled, and then to give every man
but a very little at a time; and by this caution he preserved
the men, who would otherwise have killed themselves with that
very food that was given them on purpose to save their lives.

At the same time, I ordered the mate to go into the great
cabin, and see what condition the poor passengers were 1 5
and if they were alive, to comfort them, and give them whatee eee nee

 

246 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

-efreshment was proper and the surgeon gave him a large
pitcher, with some of the prepared broth which he had given
the mate that was on board, and which he did not question
would restore them gradually.

L was not satisfied with this; but, as I said above, having a
great mind to see the scene of misery which I knew the omy
itself would present me with, in a more lively manner than
could have it by report, 1 took the captain of the ship,as we
now called him, with me, and went myself, a little after, in
their boat.

I found the poor men on board almost in a tumult, to get the
victuals out of the boiler before it was ready ; but my mate ob-
served his orders, and kept a good guard at the cook-room door ;
and the man he placed there, after using all possible persuasion
to have patience, kept them off by force: however, he caused
some biscuit-cakes to be dipped in the pot, and softened with
the liquor of the meat, which they called brewis, and gave them
every one some, to stay their stomachs, and told them it was
for their own safety, that he was obliged to give them but little
at atime. But it was all in vain; and had Inot come on board,
and their own commander and officers with me, and with good
words, and some threats also of giving them no more, I believe
they would have broken into the cook-room by force, and torn
the meat out of the furnace; for words are indeed of very small
force to a hungry belly: however, we pacified them, and fed
them gradually and cautiously for the first, and the next time
gave them more, and at last filled their bellies, and the men did
well enough.

But the misery of the poor passengers in the cabin was of
another nature, and far beyond the rest; for as, first, the ship’s
company had so little for themselves, it was but too true that
they had at first kept them very low, and at last totally neglect-
ed them; so that for six or seven days it might be said they
had really no food at all, and for several days before very little
The poor mother, who, as the men reported, was a woman of
sense and good breeding, had spared all she could so affection-
itely for her son, that at last shee entirely sunk under it; and
when the mate of our ship went in, she sat upon the floor or
deck, with her back up against the sides, between two chairs,
which were lashed fast, and her head sunk between her shoul-
ders, like a corpse, though not quite dead. My mate said all
he could to revive and encourage her, and with a spoon put
some broth into her mouth. She opened her lips, and lifted up
one hand, but could not speak; yet she understood what he
said, and made signs to him, intimating that it was too late for
her, but pointed to her child, as if she would have said they
should take care of him. However, the mate, who was exceed-

ly moved with the sight, endeavoured to get some of the
th into her mouth, and, as he said, got two or three spoonfuls

br¢

is
roROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

247

down, though I question whether he could be sure of it or not;
but it was too late, and she died the same night.

The youth, who was preserved at the price of his most af-
fectionate mother’s life, was not so far gone; yet he lay in a
cabin-bed, as one stretched out, with hardly any life left in him,
He had a piece of an old glove in his mouth, having eaten up
the rest of it: however, being young, and having more strength
than his mether, the mate got something down his throat, and
he began sensibly to revive; though by giving him, some time
after, but two or three spoonfuls extraordinary, he was very
sick, and brought it up again.

But the next care was the poor maid: she lay all along upon
the deck, hard by her mistress, and just like one that had fallen
down with an apoplexy; and struggled for life. Her limbs were
distorted ; one of her hands was clasped round the frame ofa
chair, and she griped it so hard, that we could not easily make
her let it go: her other arm lay over her head, and her feet lay
both together, set fast against the frame of the cabin-table: in
short, she lay just like one in the agonies of death, and yet she
was alive too.

The poor creature was not only starved with hunger, and
terrified with the thoughts of death, but, as the men told us af-
terwards, was broken-hearted. for her mistress, whom she saw
dying for two or three days before, and whom she loved most
tenderly.

We knew not what to do with this poor girl; for when out
surgeon, who was a man of very great knowledge and expe-
rience, had, with great application, recovered her as to life, he
nad her upen his anids as to her senses; for she was little less
than distracted for a considerable time after, as shall appear
presently. :

Whoever shall read these memorandums must be. desired
to consider, that visits at sea are not like a journey into the
country, where sometimes people stay a week or a fortnight
at a place; our business was to relieve this distressed ship’s
crew, but not lie by for them; and though they were willing
to steer the same coufse with us for some days, yet we could
carry no sail, to keep pace with a ship that had no masts ;
however, as their captain begged of us to help him to set up a
main-topmast, and a kind of a topmast to his jury-foremast,
we did, as it were, lie by him for three or four days; and then,
having given him five barrels of beef, a barrel of pork, two
hogsheads of biscuit, and a proportion of peas, Hour, and what
other things we could spare, and tuking three casks of sugar,
some rum, and some pieces-of-eight from them for satisfaction,
we left them; taking on board with us, at their own earnest
request, the-youth and the maid, and all their goods.

The young lad was about seventeen years of age, a peti,
well-bred, modest, and sensible youth, greatly dejected wit
the loss of his mother, and, as it seems, had lost his father butet 248 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

a few months before at Barbadoes; he begged of the surgeon
to speak to me to take him out of the ship ; for he said the
cruel fellows had murdered his mother ; and, indeed, so they
had, that is to say, passively; for they might have spared a
small sustenance to the poor helpless widow, that might have
reserved her life, though it had been but just enough to keep
jer alive ; but hunger knows no friend, no relation, no justice,
no right, and therefore is remorseless, and capable of no
compassion. : : :
The surgeon told him how far we were going, and that it
would carry him away from all his friends, and put him per-
naps in as bad circumstances almost as those we found him in
that is to say, starving in the world. He said it mattered not
: whither he went, if he was but delivered from the terrible
el | crew that he was among; that the captain (by which he meant
. me, for he could know nothing of my nephew) had saved his
fe, and he was sure would not hurt him; and as for the maid,
he was sure, if she came to herself, she would be very thank-
ful for it, let us carry them where we would. ‘The surgeon rep-
resented the case so affectionately to me, that I yielded, and we
: took them both on board, with all their goods, except eleven
4 hogsheads of sugar, which could not be removed or come at;
and as the youth had a bill of lading for them, | made his com-
mander sign a writing, obliging himself to go, as soon as he
came to Bristol, to one Mr. Rogers, a merchant there, to whom
the youth said he was related, and to deliver a letter which I
wrote to him, and all the goods he had belonging to the de-
ceased widow; which I suppose was not done, for I could
b. : never learn that the ship came to Bristol, but was, as is most
| i probable, lost at sea; being in so disabled a condition, and so
‘ far from any land, that I am of opinion the first storm she met
with afterwards, she might founder in the sea; for she was
a leaky, and had damage in her hold, when we met with her.
ri I was now in the latitude of 19 degrees 32 minutes, and had
ree hitherto a tolerable voyage as to weather, though, at first, the
tak winds had been contrary. I shall trouble nobody with the
f httle incidents of wind, weather, currents, &&c. on the rest of
i our voyage; but, to shorten my story, for the sake of what is
to follow, shall observe, that I came to my old habitation, the
island, on the 10th of April, 1695. It was with no small diffi-
culty that I found the: place; for as I came to it, and went
from it, before, on the south and east side of the island, as
coming from the Brazils, so now, coming in between the main
and the island, and having no chart for the coast, nor any
landmark, I did not-know it when I saw it, or know whether I
saw it or not.
_ We beat about a great while, and went on shore on several
islands in the mouth of the great river Cronooque, but none
for my purpose ; only this I learned by my coasting the shore,

 

a PRR AER ots 1 ata A ite

 

pDcpegse serie. CON RRO2ORINSON CRUSOR Ko
ROBINSON CRUSOE. Q4G

that 1 was under one great mistake before, viz. that the con
tinent which I thought I saw from the island [ lived in, was
really no continent, but a long island, or rather a ridge of
islands, reaching from one to the other side of the extended
mouth of that great river; and that the savages who came to
my island were not properly those which we call Caribbees,
but islanders, and other barbarians of the same kind, who in-
habited something nearer to our side than the rest.

In short, I visited several of these islands to no purpose:
some I found were inhabited, and some were not: on one of
them I found some Spaniards, and thought they had lived
there; but speaking with them, found they had a sloop lay
in a small creek. hard by, and came thither to make salt and
to catch some pearl muscles, if they could; but that they be-
longed to the Isle de Trinidad, which lay farther north, in the
latitude of 10 and-11 degrees.

“Thus, coasting from one island to another, sometimes with
the ship, sometimes with the Frenchmen’s shallop, which we
had found a convenient. boat, and therefore kept her with their
very good will, at length I came fair on the south side of my
island, and presently knew the very countenance of the place;
so | brought the ship safe to an anchor, broadside with the
little creek where my old habitation was.

As soon as I saw the place, I called for Friday, and asked
him if he knew where he was. He looked about a little, and
presently, clapping his hands, cried, ‘‘O yes, O there! O yes,
O there!” pointing to our old habitation, and fell dancing and
capering like a mad fellow; and I had much ado to keep him
from jumping into the sea, to swim ashore to the place.

‘Well, Friday,” says I, ‘‘do youthink we shall find any body
here, or no? and do you think we shall see vour father?”
The fellow stood mute as a stock a good while; but when i
named his father, the poor affectionate creature looked de- pitty
jected, and I could see the tears run down his face very plen- iH
tifully. ‘‘ What is the matter, Friday?” says I: ‘‘ are you Hid
troubled because you may see your father? ’’—‘‘ No, no,” ER
says he, shaking his head, ‘‘no-see him more; no, neve more peaks
see him again.’”’—‘‘ Why so,” said I, “‘ Friday’? how do you “
know that?’”—‘*O no, O no,” says Friday; “he long ago fl
die, long ago; he much old man.’’—*‘‘ Well, well,” says I, f
“friday, you don’t know; but shall we see any one else ig
then?” ‘Ihe fellow, it seems, had better eyes than I, and he
voints to the hill just above my old house ; and though we lay
halt a league off, he cries out, “‘ We see, we see, yes, yes, we
see much man there, and there, and there.” I looked, but |
saw nobody, no, not with a perspective-glass, which was, 1 i
suppose, because | could not hit the place ; for the fellow was 4
right, as | found upon inquiry the next day ; and there were iil
five or six men all together, who stood to look at the ship, not (|
knowing what to think of us. 4ROBINSON CRUSOE.

& ONE
py wore SIO ae
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As soon as Friday told me he saw people, I caused the
English ancient to be spread, and fired three guns, to give
them notice we were friends; and in about half a quarter of
an hour after, we perceived a smoke arise from the side of the
creek; so 1 immediately ordered the boat out, taking Friday
with me; and hanging. out a white flag, or a flag of truce, |
went directly on shore, taking with me the young friar I men-
tioned, to whom I had told the story of my living there, and
the manner of it, and every particular both of myself and those
I left there; and who was, on that account, extremely de-
sirous to go with me: We had besides about sixteen men well
armed, if we had found any new guests there which we did not
know of; but we had no need of weapons.

As we went on shore upon the tide of flood, near high water,
we rowed directly into the creek; and the first man I fixed
my eye upon was the Spaniard whose life I had saved, and
whom I knew by his face perfectly well: as to his habit, I shall
describe it afterwards. { ordered nobody to go on shore at
first but myself; but there was no keeping Friday in the boat
for the affectionate creature had spied his father at a distance,
a good way off the Spaniards, where, indeed, I saw nothing of
him; and if they had not let him go ashore, he would have
jumped into the sea. He was no sooner on shore, but he flew
away tc his father, like an arrow out of a bow. It woul! haveROBINSON CRUSOE. 951

made any man shed tears, in spite of the firmest resolution, to
have seen the first transports of this poor fellow’s joy when he
came to his father; how he embraced him, kissed him, stroked
his face, took him up in his arms, set him down upen a tree,
and lay down by him; then steed and locked ‘at him, as any
one would look at a strange picture, for a quarter of an hour
together ; then lay down

and kissed them, and then got up again, and stared at him:
ene would have thought the fellow bewitched. But it would
have made a dog laugh the next day to see how his passion
ran out another way: in the. morning he walked along the
shore, to and again, with his father several hours, always
leading him by the hand, as if he had been a lady; and every
now and then he would come to the boat to fetch something
er other for him, either a lump of sugar, a dram, a biscuit-
cake, or semething or other that was good. In the afternoon
his frolics ran another way; for then he would set the old man
down upor the ground, and dance about him, and make a
thousand antic postures and gestures; and all the while he
did this, he would be talking to him, and telling him one story
or other of his travels, and of what had‘*happened to him
abroad, to divert him. In short, if the same filial affection was
to be found in Christians to their parents in our part of the
world, one would be tempted to say, there would hardly have
been any need of the fifth commandment.

But this is a digression: I return to my landing. It would
be needless to take notice of all the ceremonies and _civilities
that the Spaniards received me with. The first Spaniard,
who, as I said, I knew very well, was he whose life I had saved ;
he came towards the beat, attended by one more, carrying a flag
of truce also ; and he not only did not knew me at first, but he
had no thoughts, no notion of its being me that was come, till
I spoke to him. ‘‘ Seignior,” said I, in Portuguese, “ do you
not know me?’ At which he spoke not a word, but giving his
musket to the man that was with him, threw his arms abroad,
saying something in Spanish that 1 did not perfectly hear,
came forward and embraced me, telling me he was inexcusa~
ble not to know that face again, that he had once seen as if an
angel from heaven sent to save his life: he said abundance of
very handsome things, as a well-bred Spaniard always knows
how; and then beckoning to the person that attended him,
bade him go and call out his comrades. He then asked me if
I would walk to my old habitation, where he would give me
possession of my own house again, and where I should see
they had made but mean improvements: so I walked along
with him ; but alas! I could no more find the place again than
if | had never been there ; for they had planted so many trees,
and placed them in such a posture, so thick and close to one
another, and in ten years’ time they were grown so big, that,

en the ground, and stroked his legs,cen

ae,

 

252 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

.n short, the place was inaccessible, except by such windings
and blind ways as they themselves only, who made them,
could find. ae

I asked them what put them upon all these fortifications: he
told me I would say there was need enough of it, when they
had given me an account how they had passed their time since
their arriving in the island, especially after they had the mis-
fortune to find that I was gone. He told me he could not but
have some satisfaction in my good fortune, when he heard that
I was gone in a good ship, and to my satisfaction ; and that he
had oftentimes a strong persuasion that, one time or other, he
should see me again; but nothing that ever befell him in his
life, he said, was so surprising and afflicting to hun, at first, as
the disappointment he was under when he came back to the
island and found I was not there.

As to the three barbarians (so he called them) that were left
behind, and of whom, he said, he had a long story to tell me,
the Spaniards all thought themselves much better among the
savages, only that their number was so small: ‘* And,” says he,
‘“had they been strong enough, we had been all long ago in
purgatory ;”’ and with that he crossed’ himself on the breast.
‘But, sir,”’ says he, ‘I hope you will not be displeased when
% shall tell you how, forced by necessity, we were obliged, for
oar own preservation, to disarm them, and make them our sub-
jects, who would not be content with being moderately our
masters, but would be our murderers.”? I answered, I was
heartily afraid of it when I left them there, and nothing trou-
bled me at my parting from the island but that they were not
come back, that I might have put them in possession of every
thing first, and left the others in a state of subjection, as they
deserved ; but if they had reduced them to it, | was very glad,
and should be very far from finding any fault with it; for I
knew they were'a parcel of refractory, ungoverned villains,
and were fit for any manner of mischief.

While | was thus saying this, the man came whom he had
sent back, and with him eleven men more.. In the dress they
were in, it was impossible to guess what nation they were of;
but he made all clear, both to them andto me. First he turned
to me, and pointing to them, said, ‘‘ These, sir, are some of
the gentlemen who owe their lives to you;’’ and then turning
to them, and pointing to me, he let them know who I was;
upon which they all came up, one by one, not as if they had
been sailors and ordinary fellows, and the like, but really as if
they had been ambassadors of noblemen, and [I a monarch or
great conqueror: their behavior was to the last degree obliging
and courteous, and yet mixed with a manly, majestic gravity,
which very well became them; and, in short, they had so much
more manners than I, that I scarce knew how to receive their
€ivilities, much less how to return them in kind.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 2538

The history of their coming to, and conduct in, the island,
after my going away, is so very remarkable, and has so many
incidents, which the former part of my relation will help to un-
derstand, and which will, in most of the particulars, refer to
the account I have already given, that I cannot but commit
them, with great delight, to the reading of those that come
after me.

I shall no longer trouble the story with a relation in the first
person, which will put me to the expense of ten thousand
said I’s, and said he’s, and he told me’s, and I told him’s, and
the hke; but I shall collect the facts historically, as near as I
can gather them out of my memory, from what they related
to me, and from what I met with in my conversing with them
and with the place.

in order to do this succinctly, and as intelligibly as 1 can, I
must go back to the circumstances in which | left the island,
and in which the persons were of whom I am to speak. And
first, it is necessary to repeat, that I had sent away Friday’s
father and the Spaniard (the two whose lives I had rescued
from the savages) in a large canoe, to the main, as I then
thought it, to fetch over the Spaniard’s companions that he
left behind him, in order to save them from the like calamity
that he had been in, and in order to succor them for the pres-
ent; and that, if possible, we might together -find some way
for our deliverance afterwards.

When I sent them away, I had no visible appearance of, ox
the least room to hope for, my own deliverance, any more than |
had twenty years before ; much less had I any foreknowledge of
what afterwards happened—I mean, of an English ship coming
on shore there to fetch me off; and it could not but be a very
great surprise to them, when they came back, not only to find
that I was gone, but to find three strangers left on the spot,
possessed of all that I had left behind me, which would other-
wise have been their own.

The first thing, however, which I inquired into, that I might
begin where I left off, was of their own part; and I desired
he would give me a particular account of his voyage back to
his countrymen with the boat, when I sent him to fetch them
over. He told me there was little variety in that part, for
nothing remarkable happened to them on the way, having
had very calm weather, and a smooth sea. “‘ As for his coun-
trymen, it could not be doubted,” he said, ‘‘ but that they were
overjoyed to see him (it seems he was the principal man
among them, the captain of the vessel they had been ship-
wrecked in having been dead some time) ; they were,” he said,
“the more surprised to see him, because they knew that he
was fallen into the hands of the savages, who, they were satis-
fied, would devour him, as they did all the rest of their prisoners ;
that when he told them the story of his deliverance, and in whatAIRE ARE rea PE Meo Ce SLED

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254 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

   
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

manner he was furnished for carrying them away, it was like
a dream to them; and their astonishment,” he said, ‘‘ was
somewhat like that of Joseph’s brethren, when he told them
who he was, and told them the story of his exaltation in Pha-
raoh’s court; but when he showed them the arms, the powder,
the ball, and provisions, that he brought them for their jour-
ney or voyage, they were restored to themselves, took a just
share of the joy of their deliverance, and immediately prepared
to come away with him.” : ’

Their first business was to get canoes; and in this they
were obliged not to stick so much upon the honest part of it,
but to trespass upon their friendly savages, and to borrow two
large canoes, or periaguas, on pretence of going out a fishing,
or for pleasure. In these they came away the next morning.
It seems they wanted no time to get themselves ready ; for
they had no baggage, neither clothes nor provisions, nor any
thing in the world but what they had on them, and a few roots
to eat, of which they used to make their bread.

They were in all three weeks absent; and in that time, un-
luckily for them, I had the occasion offered for my escape, as
I mentioned in my other part, and to get off from the island,
leaving three of the most impudent, hardened, ungoverned,
disagreeable villains behind me that any man could desire to
meet with—to the poor Spaniards’ great grief and disappoint-
ment, you may be sure.

The only just thing the rogues did was, that when the
Spaniards came ashore, they gave my letter to them, and
gave them provisions, and other relief, as I had ordered
them to do; also they gave them the long paper of direc-
tions which I had left with them, containing the particular
methods which I took for managing every part of my life
there; the way how I baked my bread, bred up tame goats,
and planted my corn; how I cured my grapes, made my
pots, and, in a word, every thing I did; all this being
written down, they gave to the Spaniards (two of them under-
stood English well enough); nor did they refuse to accommo-
date the Spaniards with any thing else, for they agreed verv
well for some time. ‘They gave them an equal admission into
the house, or cave, and they began to live very sociably ; and
the head Spaniard, who had seen pretty much of my methods,
and Friday’s father together, managed all their affairs; but as
for the Englishmen, they did nothing but ramble about the
island, shoot parrots, and catch tortoises; and when they
came home at night, the Spaniards provided their suppers
for them.

The Spaniards would have been satisfied with this, had the
others but let them alone; which, however, they could not find
in their hearts to do long, but, like the dog in the manger,
they would not eat themselves, neither would they let theROBINSON CRUSOE. 255

others eat. The differences, nevertheless, were at first but
trivial, and such as are not worth relating, but at last it broke
out into open war; and it began with all the rudeness and in-
solence that can be imagined, without reason, without provo-
cation, contrary to nature, and, indeed, to common sense ;
and though, it is true, the first relation of it came from the
Spaniards themselves, whom I may call the accusers, yet
when I came to examine the fellows, they could not deny a
word of it.
, But before I come to the particulars of this part, | must
‘supply a defect in my former relation ; and this was, I forgot
to set down, among the rest, that just as we were weighing the
anchor to set sail, there happened a little quarrel on board of
our ship, which I was once afraid would have turned to a
second mutiny; nor was it appeased till the captain, rousing
up his courage, and taking us all to his assistance, parted them
by force, and making two of the most refractory fellows pris-
oners, he laid them in irons; and as they had been active in
the former disorders, and let fall some ugly, dangerous words,
the second time he threatened to carry them in irons to Eng-
land, and have them hanged there for mutiny, and running
away with the ship. This, it seems (though the captain di
not intend to do it), frightened some other men in the ship.
and some of them had put it into the heads of the rest that the
captain only gave them good words for the present, till they
should come to some English port, and that then they should
be all put into gaol, and tried for their lives. ‘he mate got
intelligence of this, and acquainted us with it; upon which it
was desired that I, who still passed for a great man among
them, should go down with the mate, and satisfy the men, and
tell them that they might be assured, if they behaved well the
rest of the voyage, all they had done for the time past should
be pardoned. So I went, and after passing my honor’s word
to them, they appeared easy, and the more so when I caused
the two men that were in irons to be released and forgiven.
But this mutiny had brought us to an anchor for that night;
the wind also falling calm next morning, we found that our
two men who had been laid in irons had stole each of them a
musket, and some other weapons (what powder or shot they
had we knew not), and had taken the ship’s pinnace, which
was not yet hauled up, and run away with her to their com-
panions in roguery on shore. As soon as we found this, lL
ordered the long-boat on shore, with twelve men and the mate,
and away they went to seek the rogues; but they could neither
find them or any of the rest, for they all fled into the woods
when they saw the boat coming on shore. The mate was
once resolved, in justice to their roguery, to have destroyed
their plantations, burned all their household stuff and furniture,
and left them to shift without it; but having no orders, he let
it all alone, left every thing as he found it, and bringing the

 

 

 

   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 

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256 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

pinnace away, came on board without them. These two men
made their number five; but the other three villains were so
much more wicked than they, that after they had been two or
three days together, they turned the two new-comers out of
doors to shift for themselves, and would have nothing to do
with them; nor could they, for a good while, be persuaded to
give them any food: as for the Spaniards, they were not yet
come,

When the Spaniards came first on shore, the business began
to go forward: the Spaniards would have persuaded the three
[inglish brutes to have taken in their two countrymen again,
that, as they said, they might be all one family: out they would
not hear of it; so the two poor fellows lived by themselves;
and finding nothing but industry and application would make
them hve comfortably, they pitched their tents on the north
shore of the island, but a little more to the west, to be out of
danger of the savages, who always landed on the east parts of
the island.

Here they built them two huts, one to lodge in, and the
other to lay up their magazines and storés in; and the Span-
jards having given them some corn for seed, and especially
some of the peas which | had left them, they dug, planted, and
inclosed, after the pattern [ had set for them all, and began to
live pretty well. ‘Their first crop of corn was on the ground ;
aud though it.was but a little bit of land which they had dug
up at first, having had but a little time, yet it was enough to
relieve them, and find them with bread and other eatables;
and one of the fellows being the cook’s mate of the ship, was
very ready at making soup, puddings, and such other prep-
arations as the rice and the milk, and such little flesh as they
got, furnished him to do

‘hey were gouig on in this little thriving posture, when the
three unnatural rogues, their own countrymen ‘too, in mere
humor, and to insult them, came and_bullied them, and told
them the island was theirs; that the governor (meaning me)
had given them the possession of it, and nobody else had any
right to it; and that they should build no*houses upon their
ground, unless they would pay rent for them,

The two men, thinking they were jesting at first, asked
them to come in and sit down, and see what fine houses they
were that they had built, and to tell them what rent they de-
manded; and one of them merrily said, if they were the
ground landlords, he hoped, if they built tenements upon their
land, and made improvements, they would, according to. the
custom of landlords, grant a long lease; and desired they
would get a scrivener to draw the writings. One of the three,
cursing and raging, told them they should see they were not
in jest; and going to a little place at a distance, where the
honest men had made a fire to dress their victuals, he takes aROBINSON CRUSOE. rk

firebrand, and claps it to the outside of their hut, and very
fairly set it on fire; and it would have been all burnt down in
a few minutes, if one of the two had not run to the fellow,
thrust him away, and trod the fire out with his feet, and that
not without some difficulty too.

aaa

I'he fellow was in such a rage at the honest man’s thrusting
him away, that he returned upon him, with a pole he had in
his hand, and had not the man avoided the blow very nimbly,
and run into the hut, he had ended his days at once. His
comrade, seeing the danger they were both in, ran in after him,
and immediately they came both out with their muskets, and
the man that was first struck at with the pole, knocked the
fellow down that had begun the quarrel with the stock of his
musket, and that before the other two could come to help him;
and then, seeing the rest come at them, they stood together,
and presenting the other ends.of their pieces to them, bade
them stand off.

The others had fire-arms with them too; but one of the two
honest men, bolder than his comrade, and made desperate by his
danger, told them, if they offered to move hand or foot, they were
dead men, and boldly commanded them to lay down their arms.
They did not indeed lay down their arms, but seeing him so
resolute, it brought them tora parley, and they consented to take
their wounded man with them and be gone; and, indeed, itseems
the fellow was wounded sufficiently with the hlow. However,
they were much in the wrong, since they had the advantage,
that they did not disarm them effectually, as they might have
done, and have gone immediately to the Spaniards, and given
them an account how the rogues had treated them; for the A
three villains studied nothing but revenge, and every day gave Th
them some intimation that they did so. I

But not to crowd this part with an account of the lesser part Peviee
of the rogueries, such as treading down their corn; shooting he ae
three young kids and a she-goat, which the poor men had got
to breed up tame for their store; and, in a word, plaguing
them night and day in this manner; it forced the two men to
such a desperation, that they resolved to fight them all three,
the first time they had a fair opportunity. In order to this,
they resolved to go to the castle, as they called it (that was,
my old dwelling), where the three rogues and the Spaniards Ht
all lived together at that time, intending to have a fair battle, fet
and the Spaniards should stand by, to see fair play : so they pia
got up in the morning before day, and came to the place, and
called the Englishmen by their names, telling a Spaniard that
answered that they wanted to speak with them.

It happened that the day before, two of the Spaniards, hav-
ing been in the woods, had seen one of the two Enghshmen, if
whom, for distinction, I called the honest men, and he had
made a sad complaint to the Spaniards of the barbarous usage

 

v{ORM ORSERNER TO IT

258 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

they had met with from their three countrymen, and how they
had ruined their plantation, and destroyed their corn that they
had labored so hard to bring forward, and killed the milch-
goat and their three kids, which was all they had provided for
their sustenance; and that if he and his friends (meaning the
Spaniards) did not assist them again, they should be starved.
When the Spaniards came home at night, and they were all
at supper, one of them took the freedom to reprove the three
fnelishmen, though in very gentle and mannerly terms, and
asked them how they could be so cruel, they being harmless,
inoffensive fellows; that they were putting themselves in a
way to subsist by their labor, and that it had cost them a great
deal of pains to bring things to such perfection as they were
then in.

One of the Englishmen returned very briskly, ‘‘ What had
they to do there? that they came on shore without leave ; and
that they should not plant or build upon the island; it was
none of their ground.’”’—‘‘ Why,” says the Spaniard, very
calmly, “‘ Seignior Inglese, they must not starve.” ‘he Eng-
lishmen replied, like a rough-hewn tarpauling, “‘ They might
starve and be d d; they should not plant nor build in that
place.” —‘ But what must they do then, seignior?”’ said the
Spaniard. Another of the brutes returned, ‘‘ Do? d——n
them, they should be servants, and work for them.”’—‘‘ But
how can you expect that of them?” says the Spaniard ; ‘‘ they
are not bought with your money: you have no rigut to make
them servants.” The Englishman answered, “he island
was theirs; the governor had given it to them, and no inan
had any thing to do there but themselves;’’ and with that
swore by his Maker that they would go and burn all their new
huts; they should build none upon their land. ‘‘ Why, seigu-
ior,” says the Spaniard, “‘ by the same rule, we must be your
servants too.’— Ay,” says the bold dog, “‘ and so you shall
too, before we have done with you;” mixing two or three G—d
d n me’s in the proper intervals of his speech. ‘The Span-
iard only smiled at that, and made him no answer. However,
this little discourse had heated them; and, starting up, one
says to the other—I think it was he they called Will Atkins—
«« Come, Jack, let’s go, and have t’other brush with ’em ; we'll
demolish their castle, V’ll warrant you; they shall plant no
colony in our dominions.”

Upon this they went all trooping away, with every man a
gun, a pistol, and a sword, and muttered some insolent things
among themselves, of what they would do to the Spaniards
foo, when opportunity offered ; but the Spaniards, it seems,
did not so perfectly understand them as to know all the par-
ticulars, only that, in general, they threatened them hard for
taking the two Englishmen’s part.

Whither they went, or how they bestowed their time that
evening, the Spaniards said they did not know; but it seemsROBINSON CRUSOE: 259

they wandered about the country part of the night, and then,
lying down in the place which I used to call my bower, they
were weary, and overslept themselves. The case was this:
they had resolved to stay till midnight, and so to take the two
poor men when they were asleep, and, as they acknowledged
afterwards, intended to set fire to their huts while they were
in them, and either burn them there, or murder them as
they came out: as malice seldom sleeps very sound, it was
very strange they should not have been kept awake.

However, as the two men had also a design upon them, as I
have said, though a much fairer one than that of burning and
murdering, it happened, and very luckily for them all, that
they were up, and gone abroad, before the bloody-minded
rogues came to their huts.

When they came there, and found the men gone, Atkins,
who, it seems, was the forwardest man, called out to his com-
rade, ‘“‘ Ha, Jack, here’s the nest, but, d n them. the birds
are flown.” ‘They mused awhile, to think what should be the
occasion of their being gone abroad so soon, and suggested
presently that the Spaniards had given them notice of it; and
with that they shook hands, and swore to one another that
they would be revenged of the Spaniards. As soon as they
had made this bloody bargain, they fell to work with the poor
men’s habitation: they did not set fire, indeed, to any thing,
but they pulled down both their houses, and pulled them so
limb from limb, that they left not the least stick standing, or
scarce any sign on the ground where they stood: they tore
all their little collected household stuff in pieces, and threw
every thing about in such a manner, that the poor men after
wards found seme of their things a mile off their habitation.
When they had done this, they pulled up all the young trees
which the poor men had planted; pulled up an inclosure they
had made to secure their cattle and their corn; and, in a word,
sacked and plundered every thing as completely as a horde
of Tartars would have done.

The two men were, at this juncture, gone to find them out,
and had resolved to fight them wherever they had been, though
they were but two to three; so that had they met, there cer-
tainly would have been bloodshed among them; for they
were all very stout, resolute fellows, to give them their due.

But. Providence took more care to keep them asunder than
they themselves could do to meet; for, as if they had dogged
one another, when the three were gone thither, the two were
here; and afterwards, when the two went back to find them,
the three were come to the old habitation again: we shall see
their different conduct presently. When the three came back
like furious creatures, flushed with the rage which the work they
had been about had put them into, they came up to the Span-
ards, and told them what they had done. bv way of scoff ana

 

   
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 

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260 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

bravado; and, one of them stepping up to one of the Spaniards,
as if they had been a couple of boys at play, takes hold of his
hat as it was upon his head, and giving It a twirl about, fleering
in his face, says to him, ‘‘ And you, Seignior Jack Spaniard,
shall have the same sauce, if you do not mend your manners.”
The Spaniard, who, though a quiet, civil man, was as brave a
man as could be, and withal a strong, well-made man, looked
at him for a good while, and_ then, having no weapon In his
hand, stepped gravely up to him, and with one blow of his fist
knocked him down, as an ox is felled with a pole-axe ; at
which one of the rogues, as insolent as the first, fired his pistol
at the Spaniard immediately : he missed his body, indeed, tor
the bullets went through his hair, but one of them touched the

‘tip of his ear, and he bled pretty much. The blood made the

Spaniard believe he was more hurt than he really was, and
that put him into some heat, for before he acted all in a perfect
calm; but now resolving to go through with his work, he
stooped, and took the fellow’s musket whom he had knocked
down, and was just going to shoot the man who had fired at
him, when the rest of the Spaniards, being in the cave, came
out, and calling to him not to shoot, they stepped in, secured
the other two, and took their arms from them.

When they were thus disarmed, and found they had made
all the Spaniards their enemies, as well as their own country-
men, they began to cool, and, giving the Spaniards better
words, would have their arms again ; but the Spaniards, con-
sidering the feud that was between them and the other two Eng-
lishmen, and that it would be the best method they could take
to keep them from killing one another, told them they would
do them no harm, and if they would live peaceably, they would
be very willing to assist and associate with them as they did
before; but that they could not think of giving them their arms
again, while they appeared so resolved to do mischief with
them to their own countrymen, and had even threatened them
all to make them their servants.

‘he rogues were now no more capable to hear reason than
to act with reason; but being refused their arms, they went
raving away, and raging like madmen, threatening what they
would do, though they had no fire-arms. But the Spaniards,
despising their threatening, told them they should take care
how they offered any injury to their plantation or cattle, for
if they did, they would shoot them as they would ravenous
beasts, wherever they found them; and if they fell into their
hands alive, they should certainly be hanged. However, this
was far from cooling them; but away they went, raging and
swearing like furies of hell. As soon as they were gone, the
two men came back, in passion and rage enough also, though
of another kind; for having been at their plantation, and find-
ing it all demolished and destroyed, as above, it will easily bez
U

2

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

peak

¢

supposed they had provocation enough. They could scarce
have room to tell their tale, the Spaniards were so eager to tell
them theirs; and it was strange enough to find that three men
should thus bully nineteen, and receive no punishment at ali.

The Spaniards, indeed, despised them, and especially, hav-
ing thus disarmed them, made light of their threatenings ; but
the two Englishmen resolved to have their remedy against
them, what pains soever it cost to find them out. But the
Spaniards interposed here too, and told them, that as they had
disarmed them, they could not consent that they (the two)
should pursue them with fire-arms, and perhaps kill them.
“Bat,” said the grave Spaniard, who was their governor, ‘‘ we
will endeavor to make them do you justice, if you will leave it to
us; for there is no doubt but they will come to us again, when
their passion is over, being not able to subsist without our as-
sistance: we promise you to make no peace with them, with-
out having a full satisfaction for you; and upon this condition
we hope you will promise to use no violence with them, other
than in your own defence.’’ The two Englishmen yielded to
this very awkwardly, and with great reluctauce; but the
Spaniards protested, that they did it only to keep them from
bloodshed, and to make all easy at last. ‘‘ For,” said they,
“we are not so many of us; here is room enough for us all,
and it is a great pity we should not be all good friends.” At
leneth they did consent, and waited for the issue of the thing,
living for some days with the Spaniards; for their own nabi-
tation was destroyed.

In about five days’ time, the three vagrants, tired with wan-
dering, and almost starved with hunger, having chiefly lived
on turtles’ eggs all that while, came back to the grove; and
finding my Spaniard, who, as I have said, was the governor,
and two more with him walking by the side of the creek, they
came up in a very submissive, humble manner, and begged to
be received again into the family. The Spaniards used them
civilly, but told them they had acted so unnaturally by their
countrymen, and so very grossly by them (the Spaniards), that
they could not come to any conclusion without consulting the
two Englishmen and the rest; but, however, they would go to
them, and discourse about it, and they should know in half an
hour. It may be guessed that they were very hard put to it;
for, it seems, as they were to wait this half hour for an answer,
they begged they would send them out some bread in the
mean time, which they did; sending, at the same mune) a large
piece of goat’s flesh, and a boiled parrot, which tuey ate very
heartily, for they were hungry enough.

After half an hour’s consultation, they were called in, and a
long debate ensued; their two countrymen charging them with
the ruin ofall their labor, and a design to murder them ; all
which they owned before, and therelore could not deny now.
Upon the whole, the Spaniards acted the moderators be-

 

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262 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

tween them; and as they had obliged the two Englishmen not
to hurt the three while they were naked and unarmed, so they
now obliged therthree to go and rebuild their fellows’ two huts,
one to be of the same, and the other of larger dimensions, than
they were before; to fence their ground again where they had
pulled up their fences, plant trees in the room of those pulled

p, dig up the land again for planting corn where they had
spoiled it, and, in a word, to restore every thing in the same
state as they found it, as near as they could; for entirely it
could not be, the season for the corn, and the growth of the
trees and hedges, not being possible to be recovered.

Well, they submitted to all this; and as they had plenty of
provisions given them all the while, they grew very orderly,
and the whole society began to live pleasantly and agreeably
together again; only that these three fellows could never be
persuaded to work, I mean for themselves, except now and
then a little, just as they pleased: however, the Spaniards
told them plainly, that if they would but live sociably and
friendly together, and study the good of the whole plantation,
they would be content to work for them, and let them walk
about and be as idle as they pleased; and thus having lived
pretty well together for a month or two, the Spaniards gave
them arms again, and gave them liberty to go abroad with
them as before.

It was not above a week after they had these arms, and went
abroad, but the ungrateful creatures began to be as insolent
and troublesome as before; but, however,-an accident happen-
ed presently upon this, which endangered the safety of them
all; and they were obliged to lay by all private resentments,
and look to the preservation of their lives.

It happened one night that the Spanish governor, as I call
him, that is to say, the Spaniard whose life I had saved, who
was now the captain, or leader, or governor of the rest, found
himself very uneasy in the night, and could by no means get
any sleep: he was perfectly wellin body, as he told me the story,
only found his thoughts tumultuous; his mind ran upon men
fighting and-killing of one another, but he was broad awake,
and could not by any means get any sleep: in short, he lay a
great while ; but growing more and more uneasy, he resolved
to rise. As they lay, bemg so many of them, upon goat-skins
laid thick upon such couches and pads as they made for them-
selves, and not in hammocks and ship-beds, as I did, who was
but one, so they had little to do, when they were willing to
rise, but to get up upon their feet, and perhaps put on a coat,
such as it was, and their pumps, and they were ready for
going any way that their thoughts guided them. Being thus
got up, he looked out; but, being dark, he could see little or
nothing ; and, besides, the trees which I had planted, as in my
former account is described, and which were now grown tall,ROBINSON CRUSOE. 263

mtercepted his sight, so that he could only look up, and see
that it was a clear, star-light night; and hearing no noise, he
returned and laid him down again: but it was all one: he
could not sleep, nor could he compose himself to any thine
like rest; but his thoughts were to the last degree uneas:
he knew not for what.

Having made some noise with rising and walking ab
going out and coming in, another of them waked, and calli
asked who it was that was up. The governor told him how it
had been with him. ‘Say you so?” says the other Spaniard ;
“such things are not to be slighted, I assure you; there is
certain!'y some mischief working near us ;”’ and presently he
asked him, ‘‘ Where are the Englishmen? ?—<‘ They are all
in their huts,” says he, “ safe enough.”’ It seems the Spaniards
had kept possession of the main apartment, and had made a
place for the three Englishmen, who, since their last mutiny,
were always quartered by themselves, and could not come at the
test. ‘‘ Well,’ says the Spaniard, “there is something in it,
I am persuaded from my own experience. I am satisfied our
spirits imbodied havea converse with, and receive intelligence
from, the spirits unimbodied, and inhabiting the invisible
world; and this friendly notice is given for our advantage, if
we knew how to make use of it. Come,” says he, ‘‘let us go
and look abroad ; and if we find nothing at all in it to justify the
trouble, I'll tell you a story to the purpose, that shall convince
you of the justice of my proposing it.”

In a word, they went out, to go up to the top of the hill,
where I used to go; but they, being strong, and a good compa-
ny, not alone, as I was, used none of my cautions, to go up by
the ladder, and pulling it up after them, to go up a second
stage to the top, but were going round through the grove, un-
concerned and unwary, when they were surprised with seeing
a light, as of fire, a very little way off from them, and hearing
the voices of men, not of one or two, but ofa great number.

In all the discoveries I had made of the savages landing on
the island, it was my constant care to prevent them making
the least discovery of there being any inhabitant upon the

lace; anc when by any occasion they came to know it, they
felt it so effectually, that-they that got away were scarce able
to give any account of it; for we disappeared as soon as pos-
sible ; nor did ever any that had seen me escape to tell any one
else, except it was the three savages in our last encounter, who
Jumped into the boat ; of whom, I mentioned, I was afraid they
should go home and bring more help. Whether it was the con-
Sequence of the escape of those men that so great a number came
how together, or whether they came ignorantly, and by acci-
dent, on their usual bloody errand, the. Spaniards could not,
it seems, understand; but, whatever it was, it had been their
business-either to have concealed themselves, or not to have

 

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ROBINSON CRUSOE.

seen them at all, much less to have let the savages have seen
¢hat there were any inhabitants in the place; or to have fallen
apon them so effectually, as that not a man of them should
have escaped, which could only have been by getting in be-
éween them and their boats: but this presence of mind was
wanting to them, which was the ruin of their tranquillity for a
great while.

We need not doubt, but that the governor and the man with
him, surprised with this sight, ran back immediately, and
raised their fellows, giving them an account of the imminent
danger they were all in, and they again as readily took tie
alarm; but it was impossible to persuade them to stay close
within, where they were, but they must all run out to see how
things stood.

While it was dark, indeed, they were well enough, and they
had opportunity enough, for some hours, to view them by thelight
of three fires they had made at a distance from one another ;
what they were doing they knew not, and what to do themselves
chey knew not. For, first, the enemy were too many ; and,
secondly, they did not keep together, but were divided into
several parties, and were on shore in several places.

The Spaniards were in no small consternation at this sight ;
and as they found that the fellows ran straggling all over the
shore, they made no doubt but, first or last, some of them
would chop in upon their hab*tation or upon some other place
where they would see the token of inhabitants; and they
were in great perplexity also for fear of their flock of goats,
which would have been little less than starving them, if they
should have been destroyed; so the first thing they resolved
upon was, to despatch three men away before it was light,
two Spaniards and one Englishman, to drive all the goats
away to the great valley where the cave was, and, if need
were, to drive them into the very cave itself. Could they
have seen the savages all together in one body, and at a dis-
tance from their canoes, they resolved, if there had been a hun-
dred of them, to have attacked them; but that could not be
obtained ; for they were some of them two miles off from the
other, and, as it appeared afterwards, were of two different
nations.

After having mused a great while on the course they should
take, and beating their brains in considering their present cir-
cumstances, they resolved, at last, while it was still dark, to
send the old savage, Friday’s father, out as a spy, to learn, if
possible, something concerning them; as what they came for,
what they intended to do, and the like. The old man readily
undertook it; and stripping himself quite naked, as most ot
the savages were, away he went. After he had been gone an
hour or two, he brings word that he had been among them un-
discovered ; that he found they were two parties, and of two
several nations, who had war with one another, and had aROBINSON CRUSOR. 265

  

ad several prisoners taken in ‘the fight, they were, by mere

great battle in their own country ; and that both sides having
bh
chance, landed all on the same island, for the Gevouring their

t

great rage at one another, and were so near, that he believed
they would fight again as soon as daylight began te appear;
aut he did not perceive that they had any notion of any body
being on the island but themselves. He had hardly made an
end of telling his story, when they could perceive, by the un-
usual noise they. made, that the two little armies were engaged
in a bloody fight.

Friday’s fathe: used all the arguments he could te persuida
eur people to lie close, and not be seen; he told them their
safety consisted in it, and that they had nothing to do but lie
still, and the savages would kill one another to their hands, and
then the rest would go away; and it was so to a tittle. But it
was impossible to prevail, especially upon the Englishmen;
their curiosity was so importunate upon their prudentials, that
they must run out and see the battle: however, they used
some caution too, viz. they did not go openly, just by their
own dwelling, but went farther into the woods, and placed
themselves to advantage, where they might securely see them
manage the fight, and,.as they thought, not be seen by them;
but it seems the savages did see them, as we shall find hereafter.

The battle was very fierce ; and, if I might believe the Eng-
lishmen, one of them said he could perceive that some of them
were men of great bravery, of invincible spirits, and of great

olicy in guiding the fight. The battle, they said, held two
nours before they could guess which party would be beaten;
but then that party which was nearest our people’s habitation
began to appear weakest, and, after some time more, some of
them began to fly; and this put our men again into a great
consternation, lest. any one of those that fled should run into
the grove before their dwelling for shelter, and thereby inval-
untarily discover the place; and that, by. consequence, tiie
pursuers would do the like m search of them. Upon this they
resolved that they would stand armed within the wall, and
whoever came into the grove, they resolved to sally out over
the wall and kill them: so that, if possible, not one should
return to give an account of it; they ordered also that it
should be done with their swords, or by knocking them down
with the stocks of their muskets, but not by shooting them, for
fear of raising an alarm by the noise. :

As they expected, it fell out: three of the routed army fled
for life, and crossing the creck, ran directly into the place, not
in the least knowing whither they went, but running as into a
thick wood for shelter. The scout they kept to look abroad
gave notice of this within, with this addition, to our men’s

12

he same place had spoiled all their mirth; that they were ina

a

prisoners and making merry, but their coming se by chance to,

 

   
     
 
 
  
    
   
  
 
   
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

eeperth CS

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266 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

great satisfaction, viz. that the conquerors had not pursued
them, or seen which way they were gone, upon this, the
Spaniard governor, a man of humanity, would not suffer them
to kill the three fugitives, but sending three men out by the
lop of the hill, ordered them to go. round, come in behind
them, and surprise and take them prisoners, which was done.
The residue of the conquered people fled to their canoes, and
got off to sea: the victors retired, made no pursuit, or very
little, but drawing themselves into a body together, gave two
great screaming shouts, which they supposed was by way of
triumph, and so-the fight ended; and the same day, about
three o’clock in the afternoon, they also marched to their,
canoes. And thus the Spaniards had their island again free
to themselves; their fright was over, and they saw no savages
in several years after.

After they were all gone, the Spaniards came out of their
den, and viewing the field of battle, they found about two and
thirty men dead on the spot: some were killed with great,
long arrows, some of which were found sticking in their bodies ;
but most of them were killed with great wooden swords, six-
teen or seventeen of which they found in the field of battle,
and as many bows, with a great many arrows. These swords
were strane, great, unwieldy things, and they must be very
strong men that used them: most of those men that were killed
with them had their heads mashed to pieces, as we may say,
or, as we call it in English, their brains knocked out, and sev-
eral their arms and legs broken; so that it is evident they fight
with inexpressible rage and.fury. We found not one man that
was not stone dead, for either they stay by their enemy_till
they have quite killed him, or they carry all the wounded men
that are not quite dead away with them.

This deliverance tamed our Englishmen for a great while ;
the sight had filled them with horror, and the consequences
appeared terrible to the last degree, especially upon supposing
that some time or other they should fall into the hands of those
creatures, who would not only kill them as enemies, but kill
them for food, as we kill our cattle; and they professed to me,
that the thoughts of being eaten up like beef or mutton, though
it was supposed it was not to be till they were dead, had
something in it so horrible, that it nauseated their very
stomachs, made them sick when they thought of it, and filled
their minds with such unusual terror, that they were not
themselves for some weeks after. This, as I said, tamed
even the three English brutes I have been speaking of, and,
for a great while after, they were tractable, and went about the
common business of the whole society well enough; planted,
sowed, reaped, and began to be all naturalized to the country.
But some time after this, they fell into such simple measures
again, as brought them into a great deal of trouble.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 267

They haa taken three prisoners, as I observed; and these
three being lusty, stout young fellows, they made them ser-
vauts, and taught them to work for them; and, as slaves, they
did well enough; but they did not take their measures with
them as I did by my man Friday, viz. to begin with them
upon the principle of having saved their lives, and then in-
struct them in the rational principles of life; much less of re-
ligion, civilizing, and reducing them by kind usage and aflec-
tionate arguings; but as they gave them their food every day,
so they gave them their work too, and kept them fully em-
ployed in drudgery enough ; but they failed in this by it, that
they never had them to assist them, and fight for them, as I
had my man Friday, who was as true to me as the very flesh
upon my bones.

But to come to the family part. Being all now good
friends,—for common danger, as I said above, had effectually
reconciled them,—they began to consider their general circum-
stances; and the first thing that came under their consideration
was, whether, seeing the savages particularly haunted that
side of the island, arid that there were more remote and retired
parts of it equally adapted to their way of living, and mani-
festly to their advantage, they should not rather move their
habitation, and plant in some more proper place for their
safety, and especially for the security of their cattle and corn,

Upon this, after long debate, it was concluded that they
would not remove their habitation; because that, some time
or other, they thought they might hear from their governor
again, meaning me; and if I should send any one to seek
them, I should be sure to direct them to that side; where, if
they should find the place demolished, they would conclude
the savages had killed us all, and we were gone; and so our
supply would go too. But as to their corn and cattle, they
agreed to remove them into the valley. where my cave was,
where the land was as proper for both, and where, indeed,
there was land enough; however, upon second thoughts, they
altered one part of their resolution too, and resolved only to
remove part of their cattle thither, and plant part of their corn
there; and so if one part was destroyed, the other might be
saved. And one part of prudence they used, which it was

very well they did, viz. that they never trusted those three
savages, which they had prisoners, with knowing any thing
of the plantation they had made in that valley, or of any cattle
they had there, much less of the cave there, which they kept,
in case of necessity, as a safe retreat; amd thither they car-
ried also the two barrels of powder which I had sent them at
my coming away. But, however, they resolved not to change
their habitation; yet they agreed, that as I had carefully cov-
ered it first with a wall or fortification, and then with a grove
of trees, so, seeing their safety consisted entirely in their being
concealed, of which they were now fully convinced, they set

 

 

    
  
 
   
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 

eae Set tone ee a etre vine om‘eamemctaaiee

REI RR AR RMR LY

OS rags oe eee aoe

268 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

to work to cover and conceal the place yet more effectually
than before. For this purpose, as I planted trees, or rather
thrust in stakes, which in time all grew up to be trees, for
some good distance before the entrance lato my apartments,
they went on in the same manner, and filled up the rest of
that whole space of ground, from the trees I had set, quite
down to the side of the creek, where, as I said, J landed my
floats, and even into the very ooze where the tide flowed, not
so much as leaving any place to land, or any sign that tnere
had been any landing thereabouts; these stakes also being of
a wood very forward to grow, as I have noted formerly, they
took care to have. them generally much larger and taller than
those whicn-{ had planted; and as they grew apace, 50 they
planted them so very thick and close together, that when they
bad been three or four years grown, there was no piercing
with the eye any considerable way into the plantation; and,
as for that part which I had planted, the trees were grown as
thick as a man’s thigh, and among them they placed so many
other short ones, and so thick, that, im a word, it stood like a
palisado a quarter of a mile thick, and it was next to impos-
sible to penetrate it, but with a little army to cut it all down;
for a little dog could hardly get between the trees, they stood
so close.

Bu: this was not all; for they did the same by all the ground
to the right hand and to the left, and round even to the top of
the hill, leaving no way, not so much as for themselves to come
out, but by the ladder placed up to the side of the hill, and
then lifted up, and placed again from the first stage up to the
top; and when the ladder was taken down, nothing but what
had wings, or witchcraft to assist it, could come at them.
his was excellently well contrived ; nor was it less than what

) > .

‘they afterwards found occasion for ; which served to convince
me, that as human prudence has the authority of Providence to
justify it, so it has doubtless the direction of Providence to set
it to work; and if we listened carefully to the voice of it, I am
eae we might prevent many of the disasters which our
ives are now, by our. own negligence, subjected to: but this
by the way.

I return to the story.—They lived two years after this in
perfect retirement, and had no more visits from the savages.
They had indeed an alarm given them one morning, which put
them into a great consternation; for some of the Spaniards
being out early one morning on the west side, or rather end of
the island (which was that end where I never went for fear of
being discovered), they were surprised with seeing above
twenty canoes of Indians just coming on shore. They made
the best of their way home, in hurry enough; and giving the
alarm to their comrades, they kept close all that day and the
next, goin> out only at night to make their observation: butROBINSON CRUSOE.

a (PZ Be Note

SS

 

they had the good luck te be mistaken; for wherever the sav-
ages went, they did not land that time on the island, but pur-
sued some other design.

And now they had another broil with the three Englishmen ;
one of whom, a most turbulent fellow, being in a rage at one
of the three slaves, which I mentioned they had taken, because
the fellow had not done something right which he bid him do,
and seemed a little untractable in his showing him, drew a
hatchet out of a frog-belt, in which he wore it by his side, and
fell upon the poor savage, not to correct him, but to kil him.
One of the Spaniards, who was by, seeing him give the fellow
a barbarous cut with the hatchet, which he aimed at his head,
but struck into his shoulder, so that he thought he had cut the
poor creature’s arm off, ran to him, and entreating him not to
murder the poor man, placed himself between him and the
savage, to prevent the mischief. The fellow, being enraged
the more at this, struck at the Spaniard with his hatchet, and
swore he would serve him as he intended to serve the savage ;
which the Spaniard perceiving, avoided the blow, and with a
shovel which he had in his hand (for they were all working in
the field about their corn-land), knocked the brute down.
Another of the Englishmen, running at the same time to help
his comrade, knocked the Spaniard down; and then two
Spaniards more came into help their man, and athird English-

Ses ik . e ANE 3 4 eee a of them any fir-o-arms,

 

 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 

 

f
5
t
f270 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

    
 
  
 
  
   
  
  
 
 
  
 
  
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  

or any other weapons but hatchets and other tools, except this
third Englishman; he bad one of my _ rusty cutlasses, with
which he made at the two last Spaniards, and wounded them
both. This fray set the whole family in an uproar, and more
help coming in, they took the three Englishmen prisoners.
The next question was, what should be done with them.
They had been so often mutinous, and were so very furious,
so desperate, and so idle withal, they knew not what course to
take with them, for they were mischievous to the highest de-
eree, and valued not what hurt they did to any man; so that,
in short, it was not safe to live with them.

The Spaniard who was governor told them, ir so many
words, tuat if they had been of his own country, he would
have hanged them; for all laws and all governors were to pre-
serve society, and those who were dangerous to the society
ought to be expelled out of it; but as they were Englishmen,
and that it was to the generous kindness:of an Englishman
that they all owed their preservation and deliverance, he would use
them with all possible lenity, and would leave them to the judg-
ment of the other two Englishmen, who were their countrymen.

One of the two honest Englishmen stood up, and said they
desired it might not be left to them; ‘“‘ For,” says he, ‘<] ano
sure we ought to sentence them to the gallows ;” and with that
he gives an account how Will Atkins, one of the three, had
proposed to have all the five Englishmen join together, and
murder all the Spaniards when they were in their sleep.

When the Spanish governor heard this, he calls to Will
Atkins, ‘‘ How, Seignior Atkins, would you murder us all?
What have you to say to that?” The hardened villain was
so far from denying it, that he said it was true: and, G—d d—n
him, they would do it still, before they had done with them.
“Well, but, Seignior Atkins,” says the Spaniard, ‘‘ what have
we done to you, that you will kill us?) And what would you
get by killing us? And what must we do to prevent your
killing us? Must we kill you, or you: kill us? Why
will you put us to the necessity of this, Seignior Atkins?”
says the Spaniard very calmly, and smiling. Seignior Atkins
was in such a rage at the Spaniard’s making a jest of it, that,
fad he not been held by three men, and withal had no weap-
on near him, it was thought he would have attempted to have
killed the Spaniard in the middle of all the company. This
hair-brain carriage obliged them to consider seriously what
was to be done: the two Englishmen, and the Spaniard who
saved the poor savage, were of the opinion that they should
hang one of the three, for an example to the rest; and that par-
ticularly it should be he that had twice attempted to commit
murder with his hatchet; and, indeed, there was some reason
to believe he had done it, for the poor savage was in such a
miserable condition with the wound he had received, that itROBINSON CRUSOE. Q71

was thought he could not live. But the governor Spaniard
still said no; it was an Englishman that had saved all thei
lives, and he would never consent to put an. Englishman to
death, though he had murdered half of them; nay, he said,
uf he had been killed himself by an Englishman, and had time
left to speak, it should be that they should pardon him.

This was so positively insisted on by the governor Spaniard,
that there was no gainsaying it; and as merciful counsels are
most apt to prevail, where they are so earnestly pressed, so
they all came into it: but then it was to be considered what
should be done to keep them from doing the mischief they de-
signed; for all. agreed, governor and all, that means were to
be used for preserving the society from danger. After a long
debate, it was agreed, first, that they should be disarmed, and
not permitted to have either gun, powder, shot, sword, or any
weapon; and should be turned out of the society, and left to
live where they would, and how they would, by themselves,
but that none of the rest, either Spaniards or English, should
converse with them, speak with them, or have any thing to do
with them; that they should be forbid to come within a certain
distance of the placé"where the rest dwelt; and if they offered
to commit any disorder, so as to spoil, burn, kill, or destroy
any of the corn, plantings, buildings, fences, or cattle belong-
ing to the society, they should die without mercy, and they
would shoot them wherever they could find-them.

The governor, a man of great humanity, musing upon the
sentence, considered a little upon it; and turning to the two
honest Englishmen, said, “‘ Hold; you must reflect that it will
be long ere they can raise corn and cattle of their own, and
they must not starve; we must therefore allow them pro-
visions.” So he caused to be added, that they should have a
proportion of corn given them to last them eight months, and
for seed to sow, by which time they might be supposed to
raise some of their own; that they should have six milch-goats,
four he-goats, and six kids given them, as well for present sub-
sistence as for a store; and that they should have tools given
them for their work in the fields, such as six hatchets, an adze,
a saw, and the like; but they should have none uf these., rols
pr provisions, unless they would swear solemnly that t ey
would not hurt or injure any of the Spaniards with them,
of their fellow Englishmen.

Thus they dismissed them the society, and turned them out to
shift for themselves. ‘They went away sullen and refractory,
as neither content to go away nor to stay; but, as there was
no remedy, they went, pretending to go and choose a place
where they would settle themselves ; and some provisions were
given them, but no weapons.

About four or five days after, they came again for some
victuals, and gave the governor an account where they had

 

   
  
 
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

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pitched their tents, and marked themselves out a habitation
aiid pee: and it was a very C01 nvenient place > indeed,
on the remotest part of the island, N. i. ; much abou ut the place
where I providentially | inded in my first voyage, when 1 was
driven out to sea, the Lord alone knows whither, in my foolish
attempt to sail round the island.

Here they built themselves two handsome huts, and contrived
them 1 in a manner like my first habitation, being clo se under
the side of a hill, Bevin some trees growing already on three
sides of it, so that by planting ot hers, it would be very e: isily
covered from the sight, unless urrowly searched for “Phey
desired some dried “goat- skins, for beds and covering, which
were given them; ‘and upon giving their words that they
would not disturb the rest, or injure any of their. plantations,
they gave them hatchets, and what other tools they could
spare; some peas, barley, and rice, for sowing; and, in a
word, any thing they w anted, except arms and ammunition.

T hey lived in this separate condition about six months, and
had got in their first harvest, though the quantity was but
small, the parcel of land they had planted being but. little
for, indeed, having all their plantation to form, they had a
great deal of work upon their hands ; and when they came to
make boards and pots, and such things, they were quite out
of their element, and could make nothing of it: and when the
rainy season came on, for want of a cave in the earth, they
could not keep their erain dry, and it was in great danger of
spoiling ; and this humbled them much; so ‘they ¢ came and
begged the Spaniards to help them, which they very readily
did, and in four days ea. a great hole in the side of the
hill for them, big enough to secure their corn and other things
from the rain; but it was but a poor place, at best, compared
to mine, and especially as mine was then, for the Spaniards
had greatly enlarged it, and made several new apartments in it.

About three quarters of a year after this separation, a new
frolic took these rogues, which, together-with the former vil-
lany they had committed, brought mischief enough upon them,
and had very near been ‘the ruin of the whole ‘colony. The
three new associates began, it seems, to be weary of the labo-
rious life they led, and that without hope of bettering be
circumstances; and a whim took them, that they w ould make
a voyage to the continent, from whence the savages came, and
would try if they could seize upon some prisoners among the
natives there, and bring them home, so as to make them do
the laborious part of their work for them.

The project was not so preposterous, if they had gone no
farther : but they did nothing, and proposed nothing, but had
either mischief in the design, or mischief in the event; and,
if | may give my opinion, “they seemed to be under a blastROBINSON CRUSOE. 273

from Heaven ; for if we will not allow a visible curse to pursue

visible crimes, how shall rs with

  

| we reconcile the events of thin
the divine justice? It was certainly an apparent vengeance
on their crime of mutiny and piracy that brought them to the
state they were in; and they showed not the least remorse for
the crime, but added new villanies to it, such as the piece of
monstrous cruelty of wounding a poor slave, because he did
not, or perhaps could not, understand to do what he directed,
and to wound him in such a manner as made hima cripple all
his-life, and in a place where no surgeon or medicine could
be had for his cure; and-what was still worse, the murderous
intent, or, to do justice to the crime, the intentional murder,—
for such to be sure it was,—as was afterwards the formed design
they all laid, to murder the Spaniards in cold blood, and in
their sleep.

But I leave observing, and return to the story :—The three
fellows came down to the Spaniards one morning, and in very
humble terms desired to be admitted to speak with them: the
Spaniards very readily heard what they had to say, which was
this :—T hat they were tired of living in the manner they did;
and that they were not handy enough to make the necessaries
they wanted, and that having no help, they found they should
be starved ; butif the Spaniards would give them leave to take
one of the canoes which they came over in, and give them
arms and ammunition proportioned to their defence, they
would go over to the main and seek their fortunes, and so de-
liver them from the trouble of supplying them with any other
provisions.

The Spaniards were glad enough to get rid of them, but
very honestly represented to them the certain destruction they
were running into; told them they had suffered such hard-
ships upon that very spot, that they could, without any spirit
of prophecy, tell them they would be starved, or murdered,
and bade them consider of it.

The men replied audaciously, they should be starved if they
staid here, for they could not work, and would not work, and
they could but be starved abroad; and if they were murdered,
there was an end of them: they had no wives or children to
cry after them; and, in short, insisted importunately upon
their demand; declaring they would go, whether they would
give them any arms or no.

The Spaniards told them, with great kindness, that if they
were resolved to go, they should not go like naked men, and
be in no condition to defend themselves ; and that though they
could ill spare their fire-arms, having not enough for them-
selves, yet they would let them have two muskets, a pistol,
and a cutlass, and each man a hatchet, which they thougnt
was sufficient for them. Jn a word, they accepted the offer;
and having baked them bread enough tc serve them a month,Be eR

mK:

&

EIN sR CA TE

O74. ROBINSON CRUSO®.

and given them as much goat’s flesh as they could eat while it
was swe et, and a great b: asket of dried grapes, a pot of fresh
water, and a young kid alive, they boldly set out in the canoe
for a voyage over “the sea where it was at least forty miles
broad

The boat, indeed, was a large one, and would very well
have carried fifteen or twenty men, and therefore was rather
too big for them to manage; but as they had a fair breeze,
and flood-tide. with them, they did well enough. ‘They had
made a mast of a long pole, and a sail of four large goat-skins
dried, which they had sewed or laced together ; and away
they went merrily enough: the Spaniards “called after them,
Bon veyajo; and no man ever thought of seeing them any
more.

The Spaniards were often saying to one another, and to the
two honest Englishmen who remained behind, how quietly and
coinfortably they lived, now these three turbulent fellows were
gone; as for their coming again, that was the remotest thing
from their thoughts that could be im agined ; when, behold,
after two-aud-twenty days’ absence, one of aie. Englishmen,
being abroad upon his planting work, sees three strange men
coming towards him at a distance, with guns upon their
shoulders.

Away runs the Englishman as if he was bewitched, comes
frightened and amazed to the governor Spaniard, and tells
him they were all undone, for there were str: lingers landed up-
on the island, but could not tell who. The Sp yaniard , pausing
a while, says to him, ‘‘ How do you mean, you cannot tell
who? They are the sav ages, to be sure.”—‘ No, no,” says
the Englishman; ‘‘they are men in clothes, with arms.”
“‘ Nay, then,” says the Spaniard, ‘‘ why are you concerned?
If they are not savages, they must be friends; for there is no
Christian nation upon earth but will do us good rather than
harm.”

While they were debating thus, came the three Englishmen,
and standing without the wood, which was new planted, hal-
‘oct to them thev present!y ‘knew their voices and so all
fhe wonder of that kind ceased. But now the admiration was
turned upon another question, viz. What could be the matter,
and what made them come back again ?

1t was not long before they brought the men in, and inquir-
ing where they had been, and what they had been doing, they

ave them a full account of their voyage in a few words, viz.
Ph at they reached the land in two days, or something less ;
but finding the people alarmed at their coming, and preparing
with bows and arrows to fight them, they durst not go on
shore, but sailed on to the northward six or seven hours, till
they came toa great opening, by which they perceived that
the land they saw from our island was not the main, but anROBINSON CRUSOE. Oy

island ; aper entering that opening of the sea, they saw
another island on the right hand, north, and several more
west; and being resolved to land somewhere, they put over to
one of the islands which lay west, and went boldly on shore;
that they found the people very courteous and friendly to
them; and that they gave them several roots and some dried
fish, and appeared very sociable; and* the women, as well as
the men, were very forward to supply them with any thing
they could get for them to eat, and brought it to them a great
way upon their heads.

They continued here four days; and inquired, as well as
they could of them, by signs, what nations were this way, and
that way, and were told of several fierce and terrible people
that lived almost every way, who, as they made known by
signs to them, used to eat men; but as for themselves, they
said, they never ate men or women, except only such as they
took in the wars; and then, they owned, they made a great
feast, and ate their prisoners.

The Englishmen inquired when they had had a feast oi
that kind; and they told them about two moons ago, pointing
to the moon, and to two fingers; and that their great king had
two hundred prisoners now, which he had taken in his war,
and they were feeding them to make them fat for the next
feast. The Englishmen seemed mighty desirous of seeing
tnose prisoners; but the others, mistaking them, thought they
were desirous to have some of them to carry away for their
own eating; so they beckoned to them, pointing to the setting
of the sun, and then to the rising; which was to signify, that
the next morning at sun-rising they would bring some for
them ; and, accordingly, the next morning they brought down
five women and eleven men, and gave them to the English-
men, to carry with them on their voyage, just as we would
bring so many cows and oxen down to a seaport town to
yictual a ship. '

As brutish and barbarous as these fellows were at home,
their stomachs turned at this sight, and they did not know
what to do. To refuse the prisoners would have been the
highest affront to the savage gentry that could be offered them,
and what to do with them they knew not. However, after
some debate, they resolved to accept of them ; and, ee
they gave the savages that brought them, one of their ae
an oid key, a knife, and six or seven of their ieee which,
though they did not understand their use, they seeme Cpe
larly pleased with; and then tying the dopa ge Ls aes s
behind them, they dragged the prisoners mto the oat for
pie Wiuetidhrien were obliged to come away as soon as oo,
had them, or else they that gave them this noble present oat
certainly have expected that they should have gone to a
with them, have killed two or three of them the next morning,Se Tea

 

1 ROMER TS

O76 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

and perhaps have invited the donors to dinner. But having
taken their leave, with all the respect and thanks that could
well pass between people, where, on either side, they under-
stood not one word they could say, they put off with their boat,
and came back towards the first island; where, when they
arrived, they set eight of their prisoners at liberty, there being
too many of them for their occasion.

In their voyage, they endeavored fo bave some communi
cation with their-prisoners; but it was impossible to make
them understand any thing; nothing they could say to them,
or give them, or do for them, but was looked upon as going tc
murder them. ‘They first of all unbound them; but the poor
creatures screamed at that, especially the women, as nw they
had just felt the knife at their throats ; for they immediately
concluded they were unbound on purpose to be killed. If
they gave them any thing to eat, it was the same thing; they
then concluded, it was for fear they should sink in flesh, and
so not be fat enough to kill. If they looked at one of them
more particularly, the party presently concluded, it was to see
whether he or she was fattest, and fittest to kill first ; nay, after
they had brought them quite over, and began to use them
kindly, and treat them well, still they expected every day to
make a dinner or supper for their new masters.

When the three wanderers had given this unaccountable
history or journal of their voyage, the Spaniard asked them
where their new family was; and being told that they. had
brought them on shore, and put them into one of their huts,
and were come up to beg some victuals for them, they (the
Spaniards) and the other two Englishmen, that is to say, the
whole colony, resolved to go all down to the place and see
them; and did so, and Friday’s father with them.

When they came into the hut, there they sat al] bound;
for when they had brought them on shore, they bound their
hands, that they might not take the boat and make. their
escape; there, I say, they sat, all of them stark naked. _ First,
there were three men, lusty, comely fellows, well-shaped,
straight and fair limbs, about thirty to thirty-five years of age ;
and five women, whereof two might be from thirty to forty ;
two more not-above four or five and twenty ; and the fifth, a tall,
comely maiden, about sixteen or seventeen. ‘The women
were well-favored, agreeable persons, both in shape and fea-
tures, only tawny; and two of them, had they been perfect
white, would have passed for very handsome women, even in
London itself, having pleasant, agreeable countenances, and of
a very modest behavior ; especially when they came afterwards
to be clothed and dressed, as _ they called it, though that dress
was very indifferent, it must be confessed ; of which hereafter.

The sight, you may be sure, was something uncouth to our
Spaniards, who were, to give them a just character, men of

jaeROBINSON CRUSOE. oT

the best behavior, of the most calm, sedate tempers, and per-
ect good-humor, that ever | met with; and, in particular, of
the most modesty, as will presently appear: I say, the sight
was very uncouth, to see three naked men and five naked
women, all together bound, and in the most miserable circum-
stances that human nature could be supposed to be, viz. to be
expecting every moment to be dragged out, and have their
brains knocked out, and then to be eaten up like a calf that is
killed for a dainty.

The first thing they did was to cause the old Indian, Friday’s
father, to go in, and see, first, if he knew any of them, and
then if he understood any of their speech. As soon as the old
man came in, he looked seriously at them, but knew none of
them; neither could any of them understand a word he said,
or a sign he could make, except one of the women. However,
this was enough to answer the end, which was to satisfy them
that the men into.whose hands they were fallen were Christians;
that they abhorred eating men or women; and that they might
be sure they would not be killed. As soon as. they were as-
sured of this, they discovered such a joy, and by such awkward
gestures, several ways, as is hard to describe; for, it seems,
they were of several] nations.

The woman who was their interpreter was bid, in the next
place, to ask them if they were willing to be servants, and to
work for the men who had brought them away, to save their
lives; at which they all fell a dancing; and presently one fell
to taking up this, and another that, any thing that lay next,
to carry on their shoulders, to intimate that they were willing
to work.

The governor, who found that the having women among
them would presently be attended with some inconvenience,
and might occasion some strife, and perhaps blood, asked the
three men what they intended to do with these women, and
how they intended to use them, whether as servants or as wo-
men. One of the Englishmen answered very bold!y and
readily, that they would use them as both; to which the gov-
ernor said, ‘I am not going to restrain you from it; you are
your own masters as to that; but this I think is but just, for
avoiding disorders and quarrels among you, and I desire it of
you for that reason only, viz. that you will all engage, that if
any of you take any of these women, as a woman or wife, that
he shall take but one; and that having taken one, none else
shall touch her ; for though we cannot marry any one of you, yet
it is but reasonable that while you stay here, the woman any
of you takes should be maintained by the man that takes her,
and should be his wife ; I mean,’’ says he, ‘‘ while he continues
here, and that none else shall have any thing to do with her.
All this appeared so just, that every one agreed to it without
any difficulty.A eRsRwE eR: CEO

 

O76 ROBINSON CRUSOE

Then the Englishman asked the Spaniards if they designed
to take any of them. But every one of them answered, ‘ No:”
some of them said they had wives in Spain, and the others did
not like women that were not Christians; and all together de-
clared that they would not touch one of them; which was an
instance of such virtue as I have not met with in all my travels.
On the other hand, to be short, the five Englishmen took them
every one a wife, that is to say, a temporary wife ; and so the
set up a new form of living; for the Spaniards and Friday’s
father lived in my old habitation, which they had enlarged ex
ceedingly within. The thtee servants which were taken in
the late battle of the savages lived with them; and these car-
ried on the main part of the colony, supplied all the rest with
food, and assisted them in any thing as they could, or as they
found necessity required.

But the wonder of this story was, how five such refractory,
ill-matched fellows should agree about these women, and that
two of them should not pitch upon the same woman, especially
seeing two or three of them were, without comparison, more
agreeable than the others; but they took a good way enough
to prevent quarrelling among themselves, for they set the five
women by themselves in one of their huts, and they went all
into the other hut, and drew lots among them who should
choose first.

He that drew to choose first went away by himself to the
hut where the poor naked creatures were, and fetched out her
he chose ; and it was worth observing, that he that chose first
took her that was reckoned the homeliest and oldest of the five,
which made mirth enough among the rest ; and even the Span-
ards laughed at it: but the fellow considered better than any
of them, that it was application and business they were to ex-
pect assistance in, as much as in any thing else; and she
proved the best wife of all the parcel.

When the poor women saw themselves set in a row thus,
and fetched out one by one, the terrors of their condition re-
turned upon them again, and they firmly believed they were
now going to be devoured. Accordingly, when the English
sailor came in and fetched out one of them, the rest set up a
most lamentable cry, and hung about her, and took their leave
of her with such agonies and affection, as would have grieved
the hardest heart in the world; nor was it possible for the
Englishmen to satisfy them that they were not to be immediately
murdered, till they fetched the old man, Friday’s father, who
immediately let them know that the five men, who had fetched
them out one by one, had chosen them for their wives.

When they had done, and the fright the women were in was
a little over, the men went to work, and the Spaniards came
and helped them; and in a few hours they had built them
every one a new hut or tent for their lodging apart; for those
they had already were crowded with their tools, householdROBINSON CRUSOE 279

stuff, and provisions. The three wicked ones had pitched
farthest off, and the two honest ones nearer, but both on the
north shore of the island, so that they continued separated as
before; and thus my island was peopled in three places; and,
as | might say, three towns were begun to be built.

And here it is very well worth observing, that, as it often
happens in the world (what the wise ends of God’s providence
are in such a disposition of things I cannot say), the two
honest fellows had the two worst wives; and the three repro-
bates, that were scarce worth hanging, that were fit for noth-
‘ing, and neither seemed born to do themselves good, nor any
‘one else, had three clever, diligent, careful, and ingenious
wives; not that the first two were bad wives, as to their tem-
per or humor, for all the five were most willing, quiet, passive,
and subjected creatures, rather like slaves than wives; but my
meaning is, they were not alike capable, ingenious, or indus-
trious, or alike cleanly and neat.

Another observation I must make, to the honor of a diligent
application on one hand, and to the disgrace of a slothful, neg-
ent idle temper on the other, that when I came to the
place, and viewed the several improvements, plantings, and
management of the several little colonies, the two men had so
far outgone the three, that there was no comparison. They
had, indeed, both of them as much ground laid out for corn as
they wanted, and the reason was, Reese! according to my
rule, nature dictated that it was to no purpose to sow more
corn than they wanted; but the difference of the-cultivation,
of the planting, of the fences, and, indeed, of every thing else,
was easy to be seen at first view.

The two men had innumerable young trees planted about
their huts, so that when you came to the place, nothing was
to be seen but a wood; and though they had twice had their
plantation demolished, once by their own countrymen, and
once by the enemy, as shall be shown in its place, yet they
had restored all again, and every thing was thriving and flour-
ishing about them: they had grapes planted in order, and
managed like a vineyard, though they had themselves never
seen any thing of that kind; and by their good ordering their
vines, their grapes were as good again as any of the others.
They had also found themselves out a retreat in the thick-
est part of the woods, where, though there was not a nat-
ural cave, as I had found, yet they made one with incessant
labor of their hands, and where, when the mischief which
followed happened, they secured their wives and children, so
as they could never be found; they having, by sticking in-
numerable stakes and poles of the wood which, as I said,
grew so readily, made the grove unpassable, except in some
places, where they climbed up to get over the outside part

and then went on bv ways of their own leaving.i 9280 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

e. As to the three reprobates, as I justly call them, though
they were much civilized by their settlement compared ‘to
what they were before, and were not so quarrelsome, having
not the same opportunity, yet one of the certain companions
of a profligate mind never left them, and that was their idle-
ness. It is true, they planted corn, and made fences; but
Solomon’s words were never better verified than in them a
went by the viney ard of the slothful, and it was all overgrown
with thorns;”’ for when the Spaniards came to view their
crop, they could not see it in some places for weeds; the hedge
had several gaps in it, where the wild goats had got in and

eaten up the corn; perhaps here and there a dead bush was

: crammed i in, to stop them out for the present, but it was only

' shutting the ’stable-door after the steed was stolen ; whereas,

F when thev looked on the colony of the other two, there was

the very face ot industry and success upon all they ‘did ; there

was not a weed to be seen in all their corn, or a gap in any of

their hedges ; and they, on the other hand, verified Solomon’ 3

ti words in another place—‘“ that the diligent hand maketh richjs?

Ms for every thing grew and thrived, and they had plenty within

: and without; ‘they had more tame cattle than the others, more

& utensils and necessaries within doors, and yet more pleasure

+) ie and diversion too.

ile It is true, the wives of the three were very handy and cleanly

within door: Sj and having learned the Ex elish W ays of dress-

ing and cooking from one of the other Englishmen, who, as [
said, was a cook’s mate on board the ship, they dressed their
husbands’ victuals very nicely and well; whereas the others
could not be brought to understand it; but then the husband,
who, as I say, had been cook’s mate, did it himself. But as

4 a for the husbands of the three wives, they loitered about,

i) fetched turtles’ eggs, and caught fish and birds; in a word,

eb oy any thing but labor, and they f fared accordingly. The diligent

a lived well and comfortably, and the slothful lived hard “and

beggarly ; and so, I believe, generally speaking, it is all over

the world.

: But I now come to a scene different from all that had hap-

pened before, either to them or to me; and the original of the

story was this: Early one morning, there came on shore five
or six canoes of Indians or savages, call them which you
please, and there is no room to doubt they came upon the old
errand of feeding upon their slaves; but that part was now so
familiar to the Spaniards, and to our men too, that they did
not ee themselves about it, as I did; but having been
made sensible, by their experience, that their only business
was to lie concealed, and that if they were not seen by any
of the savages , they would go off again quietly, when their
business was done, having, as yet, not the least notion of there
being any inhabitants in the isl: und ; I say, having been made

 

ee

2ST eI OE

er “
CE OMA IATONO HTROBINSON CRUSOE. 281

sensible of this, they had nothing to do but give notice to all
the three pla itations to keep w ithin doors, and not show them-
selves, only placing a scout lu a proper place; to give notice
when the bos its went to sea again.

This was, without doul rt, very right; but a disaster spoiled
all these measures , and made it known among the savages
that there w ere inhabitants there ; which was, in the end, the
desolation of almost the whole colony After the canoes with
the savages were gone off, the Spaniards peeped abroad again;
and some of them had the curlosity to go to the place where
they had been, to see what they had been doing. Here, to
their great surprise, they found three savages left ‘behind, and
lying fast asleep upon the ground. It was supposed they had
either been so gorged with their inhuman feast, that, like
beasts, they were fallen asleep, and would not stir when the
others’ went, or they had wandered into the woods, and did not
come back in time to be taken in.

The Spaniards were greatly surprised at this sight, and-

perfectly at a loss what fo do. The Spanish governor, as it
happened, was with them, and his advice was “asked, but he
professed ‘he knew not what to do. As for slaves, they had
enough already ; and as to killing them, they were none of
them inclined to that; the Spaniard governor told me, they
could not think of shedding innocent blood; for as to them,
the poor creatures had done them no wrong, invaded none of
their property, and they thought they had no just quarrel
against them, to take away their lives. And here I must, in
justice to these Spaniards, observe, that let the accounts of
Spanish cruelty in Mexico and Peru be what they will, I never
met. with seventeen men of any nation whatsoever, im any
foreign country, who were so universally modest, temperate,
virtuous, so very good-humored, and so courteous, as these
Spaniards; and as to cruelty, they had nothing of it in their
very nature; no ay no barbarity, no outrageous pas-
sions, and yet all of them men of great courage and spirit.
Their temper and calmness had appeared in their bearing the
insufferable usage of the three Englishmen; and their justice
and humanity appeared now in the case of the savages, as
above. After some consultation, they resolved upon this;
that they would lie still a while longer, till, if possible, these
three men might be gone. But then the governor Spaniard
recollected, that the three savages had no “boat ; and if they
were left to rove about the island, they would certainly dis-
cover that there were inhabitants in it; and so they should be
undone that way. Upon this they went back again, and there
lay the fellows fast asleep still, and so they resolved to awaken
them, and take them prisoners; and they did so. ‘The poor
fellows were strangely frightened when they were seized uponAUR RIED. ot

SOMBRE

Se. ie Ne ee

 

Sop TRY

282 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

and bound; and afraid, like the women, that they should be
murdered and eaten; for it seems, those people think all the
world does as they do, eating men’s flesh; but they were soon
made easy as to that, and away they carried them.

It was very happy for them that they did not carry them
home to their castle, | mean to my palace under the hill; but
they carried them first to the bower, where was the chief of
their country work, such as the keeping the goats, the plant-
ing the corn, &c.; and afterwards they carried them to the
habitation of the two Englishmen.

Here they were set to work, though it was not much they
had for them to do; and whether it was by negligence ir
guarding them, or that they thought the fellows could not mend
themselves, I know not, but one of them ran away, and taking
to the woods, they could never hear of him any more.

They had good reason to believe he got home again soon
after, in some other boats or canoes of savages who came on

“shore three or four weeks afterwards, and who, carrying on

their revels as usual, went off in two days’ time. ‘This thought
terrified them exceedingly ; for they concluded, and that not
without good cause indeed, that if this fellow came home safe
among his comrades, he would certainly give them an account
that there were people in the island, and also how few and
weak they were; for this savage, as I observed before, had
never been told—and it was very happy he had not—how many
there were, or where they lived; nor had he ever seen or heard
the fire of any of their guns, much less had they shown him
any of their other retired places; such as the cave in the val-
ley, or the new retreat which the two Englishmen had made,
and the like.

The first testimony they had that this fellow had given in-
telligence of them was, that abcat two months after this, six
canoes of savages, with about seven, eight, or ten men in a
canoe, came rowing along the north side of the island, where
they never used to come before, and !anded, about an hour
after sunrise, at a convenient place, about a mile from the
habitation of the two Englishmen, where this escaped man had
been kept. As the Spaniard governor said, had they been all
there, the damage would not have been so much, for not a man
of them would have escaped; but the case differed now very
much, for two men to fifty was too much odds. The two men
had the happiness to discover them about a league off, so that
it was above an hour before they landed; and as they landed a
mile from their huts, it was some time before they could come
at them. Now, having great reason to believe that they were
betrayed, the first thing they did was to bind the two slaves
which were left, and cause two of the three men whom they
brought with the women (who, it seems, proved very faithful
to them) to lead them, with their two wives, and whatever theyROBINSON CRUSOE. 283

could carry away with them, to their retired places in the
woods, which I have spoken of above, and there to bind the
two fellows hand and foot, till they heard further.

In the next place, seeing the savages were all come on shore,
and that they had bent their course directly that way, they opened
the fences where the milch-goats were kept, and drove them
all out ; leaving their goats to straggle in the woods, whither
they pleased, that the savages might think they were all bred
wild ; but the rogue who came with them was too cunning for
that, and gave them an account of it all, for they went directly
to the place.

When the two poor frightened men had secured their wives
and goods, they sent the other slave they had of the three who
cafne with the women, and who was at their place by accident,
away to the Spaniards with all speed, to give them ‘the alarm,
and desire speedy help; and, in the mean time, they took
their arms, and what ammunition they had, and retreated to-
wards the place in the wood where their wives were sent;
keeping at a distance, yet so that they might see, if possible,
which way the savages took.

They had not gone far, but that from a rising ground they
could see the little army of their enemies come on directly to
their habitation, and, in a moment more, could see all their
huts and household stuff flaming up together, to their great
grief and mortification ; for they had a very great loss, to them
irretrievable, at least for some time. ‘They kept their station
for a while, till they found the savages, like wild beasts, spread
themselves all over the place, rummaging every way, and every
place they could think of, in search of prey; and in particu-
lar for the people, of whom, now, it plainly appeared they had
intelligence. :

The two Englishmen, seeing this, thinking themselves not
secure where they stood, because it. was likely some of the
wild people might come that way, and they might come too
many together, thought it proper to make another retreat
about half a mile farther ; believing. as it afterwards happened,
that the farther they strolled, the fewer would be together.

‘heir next halt was at the entrance into a very thick-grown
part of the woods, and where an old trunk of a tree stood,
which was hollow and vastly large; and in this tree they both
took their standing, resolving to see there what might offer.
[hey had not stood there long, before two of the savages
appeared running directly that way, as if they already had

notice where they stood, and were coming up to attack them ;
and a little way farther they espied three more coming after
them, and five more beyond them, all coming the same way ;
besides which, they saw seven or eight more at a distance,
running another way ; for, in a word, they ran every way, like
sportsmen beating for their game.Sc ce RRP NERD

284. ROBINSON CRUSOE.

The poor men were now in great perplexity whether they
should stand and keep their posture, or fly; but, after a very
short debate with themselves, they considered, that if the savages
ranged the country thus before help came, they might perhaps
“nd out their retreat in the woods, and then all would be lost;
so they resolved to stand them there; and if they were too
many to deal with, then they would get up to the top of the
tree, from whence they doubted not to defend themselves, fire
excepted, as long as their ammunition lasted, though all the
savages that were landed, which was near fifty, were to attack
them.

Having resolved upon this, they next considered whether
they should fire at the first two, or wait for the three, and so
take the middle party, by which the two and the five that fol-
lowed would be separated : at length they resolved to let the first
two pass by, unless they should spy them in the tree, and come
to attack them. The first two. savages confirmed them also in
this regulation, by turning a little from them towards another
part of the wood; but the three, and the five after them, came
forward directly to the tree, as if they had known the English-
men were there. Seeing them come so straight towards them,
they resolved to take them in a line as they came; and as they
resolved to fire but one at a time, perhaps the first shot might
hit them all three ; for which purpose, the man who was to fire
put three or four small bullets into his piece; and having a
fair loop-hole, as it were, from a broken hole in the tree, he
took a sure aim, without being seen, waiting till they were
within about thirty yards of the tree, so that he could not miss.

While they were thus waiting, and the savages came on,
they plainly saw that one of the three was the runaway sav-
age that had escaped from them; and they both knew him
distinctly, and ei that, if possible, he should not escape,
though they should both fire; so the other stood ready with
his piece, that if he did not drop at the first shot, he should be
sure to have a second. But the first was too good a marks-
man to miss his aim; for as the savages kept near one another,
a little behind, in a line, he fired, and hit two of them directly ;
the foremost was killed outright, being shot in the head: the
second, which was the runaway Indian, was shot through the
body, and fell, but was not quite dead; and the third hada
little scratch in the shoulder, perhaps by the same ball that
went through the body of the second; and being dreadfully
frightened, though not so much hurt, sat down upon the
ground,-screaming and yelling in a hideous manner.

The five that were behind, more frightened with the noise
than sensible of the danger, stood still at first; for the woods
made it sound a thousand times bigger than it really was, the
echoes rattling from one side to another, and the fowls rising
from all parts, screaming, and every sort making a different
noise, according to their kind; just as it was when I fired the
first gun that perhaps was ever shot off in the island.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 985

However, all being silent again, and they not knowing whit
the matter was, came on unconcerned, till they came to ile
place where their companions lay, in a condition miserable
enough; and here the poor ignorant creatures, not sensibls
that they were within reach of the same mischief, stood all of
a huddle over the wounded man, talking, and, as may be sup-
posed, inquiring of him how he came to be hurt; and who it
is very rational to believe, told them, that a flash of fire first,
and immediately after that, thunder from their gods, had killed
those two and wounded him; this, I say, is rational; for
nothing is more certain than that, as they saw no man near
them, so they had never heard a gunin all their lives, nor so
much as heard of a gun; neither knew they any thing of kill-
ing and wounding at a distance with fire and bullets: if they
had, one might reasonably believe they would not have stood
so unconcerned in viewing the fate of their fellows, without
some apprehensions of their own.

Our two men, though, as they confessed to me, it grieved
them to be obliged to kill so many poor creatures, who, at the
same time, had no notion of their danger, yet, having them
all thus in their power, and the first having loaded his piece
again, resolved to let fly both together among them; and
singling out, by agreement, which to aim at, they shot togeth-
er, and killed, or very much wounded, four of them; the fifth,
frightened even to death, though not hurt, fell with the rest;
so that our men, seeing them all fall together, thought they had
killed them all.

The belief that the savages were all killed made our two
men come boldly out from the tree before they had charged
their guns, which was a wrong step; and they were under
some surprise when they came to the place, and found no less
than four of them alive, and of them two very little hurt, and
one not at all: this obliged them to fall upon them with the
stocks of their muskets; and first they made sure of the run-
away savage, that had been the cause of all the mischief, and
of another that was hurt in the knee, and put them out of their
pain; then the man that was not hurt at all came and kneeled
down to them, with his two hands held up, and made piteous
moans to them, by gestures and signs, for his life, but could
not say one word to them that they could understand. How-
ever, they made signs to him to sit down at the foot of a tree
hard by; and one of the Englishmen, with a piece of rope-
twine, which he had by great chance in his pocket, tied his
two hands behind him, and there they left him ; and with
what speed they could made after the other two, which were
gone before, fearing they, or any more of them, should find
the way to their covered place in the woods, where their
wives, and the few goods they had left, lay. They came once{HEBRON CONT

 

 

CES TEE MIR RETIRE MORE EI OT BOE

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

'm sight of the two men, but it was at a great distance; how-
ever, they had the satisfaction to see them cross over a valley
towards the sea, quite the contrary way from that which led
to their retreat, which they were afraid of; and being satisfied
with that, they went back to the tree where they left their
prisoner, who, as they supposed, was delivered by his com-
rades, for he was gone, and the two pieces of rope-yarn, with
which they had bound him, lay just.at the foot of the tree.

They were now in as great concern as before, not knowing
what course to take, or how near the enemy might be, or in
what numbers; so they resolved to go away to the place where
their wives were, to see if all was well there, and to make
them easy, who were in fright enough, to be sure; for though
the savages were their own country-folk, yet they were most
terribly afraid of them, and perhaps the more for the knowl-
edge they had of them.

When they came there, they found the savages had been in
the wood, and very near that place, but had not found it; for
it was indeed inaccessible, by the trees standing so thick, as
before, unless the persons seeking it had been directed by
those that knew it, which these did not: they found, there-
fore, every thing very safe, only the women in a terrible fright.
While they were here, they had the comfort to have seven of
the Spaniards come to their assistance; the other ten, with
their servants, and old Friday (I mean Friday’s father), wereROBINSON CRUSOE. 287

gone in a body to defend their bower, and the corn and cattle
that was kept there, in case the savages should have roved
over to that side of the country; but they did not spread so
far. With the seven Spaniards came one of the three savages,
who, as I said, were their prisoners formerly ; and with them
also came the savage whom the Englishmen had left bound
hand and foot at the tree; for it seems they came that way,
saw the slaughter of the seven men, and unbound the eighth,
and brought him along with them; where, however, they
were obliged to bind him again, as they had the two others
who were left when the third ran away.

The prisoners now began to be a burden to them ; and they
were so afraid of their escaping, that they were once resolving
to kill them all, believing they were under an absolute neces.
sity to do so, for their own preservation. However, the Span-
iard governor would not consent to it; but ordered, for the
present, that they should be sent out of the way, to my old
cave in the valley, and be kept there, with two Spaniards to
guard them, and give them food for their subsistence, which
was done; and they were bound there hand and foot for that
night.

‘When the Spaniards came, the two Englishmen were so en-
couraged, that they could not satisfy themselves to stay any
longer there ; but taking five of the Spaniards and themselves,
with four muskets and a pistol among them, and two stout
quarter-staves, away they went in quest of the savages. And
first they came to the tree where the men lay that had been
killed; but it was easy to see that some more of the savages
had been there, for they had attempted to carry their dead
men away, and had dragged two of them a good way, but had
given it over. From thence they advanced to the first rising
ground, where they had stood and seen their camp destroyed,
and where they had the mortification still to see some of the
smoke; but neither could they here see any of the savages.
They then resolved, though with all possible caution, to go
forward, towards their rumed plantation; but a little bgfore
they came thither, coming in sight of the sea-shore, they saw
plainly the savages all embarked again in their canoes, in
order to be gone. They seemed sorry, at first, that there was
no way to come at them, to give them a parting blow; but,
upon the whole, they were very well satisfied to be rid of them.

The poor Englishmen being now twice ruined, and all their
improvements destroyed, the rest all agreed to come and
help them to rebuild, and to assist them with needful supplies.
Their three countrymen, who were not yet noted for having
the least inclination to do any good, yet as soon as they heard

of it (for they, living remote eastward, knew nothing of the
matter till all was over), came and offered their help and as-
sistance, and did, very triendly, work for several days, to re-a tten..

LIME OND EN ET BAY

   
  
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

288 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

store their habitation, and make necessaries for them. And
thus. in a little time, they were set upon their legs again.

About two days after this, they had the further satisfaction
of seein three of the savages’ canoes come driving on shore,
and. at some distance from them, two drowned men ; by which
hey had reason to believe that they had met with a storm at
.2, which had overset some of them; for it had blown very
hard the night after they went off.

However, as some might miscarry, so, on the other hand,
enough of them escaped to inform the rest, as well of what they
had done, as of what had happened to them, and to whet them
on to another enterprise of the same nature; which they, it
seems, resolved to attempt, with sufficient force to carry all
before them; for except what the first man had told them of
inhabitants, they could say little of it of their own knowl-
edge, for they never saw one man; and the fellow being
killed that had affirmed it, they had no other witness to con-
firm it to them.

It was five or six months after this before they heard any
more of the savages, in which time our men were in hopes they
had either forgot their former bad luck, or given over hopes of
better; when, on a sudden, they were invaded with a most
formidable fleet of no less than eight-and-twenty canoes, full
of savages, armed with bows and arrows, great clubs, wooden
swords, and such like engines of war; and they brought such
numbers with them, that, in short, it put all our people into
the utmost consternation.

As they came on shore in the evening, and at the eastern-
most side of the island, our men had that night to consult and
consider what to do; and, in the first place, knowing that their
being entirely concealed was their only safety before, and would
be much more so now, while the number of their enemies was
so great, they therefore resolved, first of all, to take down the
huts which were built for the two Englishmen, and drive away
their goats to the old cave ; because they supposed the savages
would go directly thither, as soon as it was day, to play the old
game over again, though they did not now land within two
leagues of it. In the next place, they drove away all the
flocks of goats they had at the old bower, as I called it, which
belonged to the Spaniards; and, in short, left as little appear-
ance of inhabitants any where as was possible; and the next
morning early they posted themselves, with all their force, at
the plantation of the two men, to wait for their coming. As
they guessed, so it happened : these new invaders, leaving their
canoes at the east end of the island, came ranging along the
shore, directly towards the place, to the number of two hun-
dred and fifty, as near as our men could judge. Our army
was but small, indeed; but that which was worse, they had
not arms for all their number neither. The whole account, itROBINSON CRUSOE. 289

seems, stood thus: first, as to men, seventeen Spaniards, five
Englishmen, old Friday, or Friday’s father, the three slaves
taken with the women, who proved very faithful, and three
other slaves, who lived with the Spaniards. To arm these,
they had eleven muskets, five pistols, three fowling-pieces,
five muskets, or fowling-pieces, which were taken by me from
the mutinous seamen whom I reduced, two swords, and three
old halberds.

T’o their slaves they did not give either musket or fusee, but
they had every one a halberd, or a long staff, like a quarter-
staff, with a great spike of iron fastened into each end of it,
and by his side a hatchet ;-also every one of our men had 2
hatchet. ‘T'wo of the women could not be prevailed upo:: wut
they would come into the fight, and they had bows and arrows,
which the Spaniards had taken from the savages when the first
action happened, which I have spoken of, where the Indians
fought with one another ; and the women had hatchets too.

The Spaniard governor, whom I described so often, com-
manded the whole; and Will Atkins, who, though a dreadful
fellow for wickedness, was a most daring, bold fellow, com-
manded under him. The savages came forward like lions;
and our men, which was the worst of their fate, had no advan-
tage in their situation; only that Will Atkins, who now proved
a most useful fellow, with six men, was planted just behind a
small thicket of bushes, as an advanced guard, with orders to
lét*the first of them pass by, and then fire into the middle of
them, and as soon as he had fired, to make his retreat as nim-
ble as he could round a part of the wood, and so come ii be-
hind the Spaniards, where they stood, having a thicket of trees
before them.

When the savages came on, they ran straggling about every
way in heaps, out of all manner of order, and Will Atkins let
about fifty of them pass by him; then seeing the rest come in
a very thick throng, he orders three of his men to fire, having
loaded their muskets with six or seven bullets apiece, about «s
big as large pistol-bullets. How many they killed or wounded
they knew not, but the consternation and surprise was Inex-
pressible among the savages; they were frightened to the last
degree to hear such a dreadful noise, and see their men killed,
and others hurt, but see nobody that did it; when, 1n the mid-
dle of their fright, Will Atkins and his other three let fly again
among the thickest of them; and in less than a minute the
first three, being loaded again, gave them a third volley.

Had Will Atkins and his men retired immediately, as soon
as they had fired, as they were ordered to do, or had the rest
of the body been at hand, to have poured in their shot continu-
ally, the savages had been effectually routed; for the terror
that was among them came principally from this, viz. that they
were killed by the gods with thunder and lightning, and could
see nobody that hurt them; but Will Atkins, staying to load

13Sco RMR RET: 1

2D NAPE RRO E SNS MER Sl IT Dey

290

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

again, discovered the cheat; some of the savages who were at
a distance, spying them, came upon them behind; and though

Atkins an d his men Gree at them

also, two or ‘three times,

and killed above twenty, retiring as fast as they could, yet they
wounded Atkins himself, and killed one of his fe low. English-
men with their arrows, as they did afterwards one Spaniard,
and one of the Indian slaves who came with the women. This
gallant fellow, and fought most desperately,
killing five of them with his own hand, having no weapon but

slave was a most §

one of the armed

staves and a hatchet.

Uur men, being thus hard laid at, Atkins wounded, and two
Jvther men ‘killed, retreated to a rising ground in the wood ; *

and the Spaniards

after firing three volleys upon them, re-

treated also; for their number was so great, and they were so
desperate, that though above fifty of them were killed, and
niore than as many wounded, yet they came on in the ‘teeth

of our men, fearless of danger,

and shot their arrows like a

cloud ; and it was observed that their wounded men, who
disabled, were made outrageous by their
wounds, and fought like madmen.

When our men retreated, they left the Spaniard and the
Englishman that were killed behind them; and the savages,
up to them, killed them over again im a

were ‘not quite

when they came

wretched manner, breaking
their clubs and wooden Seunde

their arms, legs, and heads, with
, like true savages ; but finding

our men were gone, they did not seem to pursue them, but
drew themselves up in a ring, which is, it seems, their custom,

and shouted twice,

in token of their victory ; after whieh,

they had the mortification to see several of their wounded men
fall, dying with the mere loss of blood.

The Spani: ud governor having drawn his little body up to-
gether upon a rising ground, Atkins, though he was wounded,
would have had them “march and chi ge again all together at

once; but the Spaniard replied,
how their wounded men fight :

Seignior Atkins , You see
let fhem alone till morning ;

all the wounded men. will be stiff and sore with their woun S,

and faint with the loss of blood;

fewer to engage.’
replied merrily

and so we shall have the

This ac dvice was good ; but Will Atkins

, * That is true, seignior, and so shall I too;

and that is the reason IT would go on w hile Es am warm.’’—‘* Well,

Seignior Atkins,”

gallantly, and done your part ;

cannot come on ;
they waited.

says the “Spaniard,

“you have behav ed

we will fight for you, if you

”

but I think it best to stay till morning :”’ so

But as it was a clear moonlight night, and they found the

oS

savages in great disorder about their dead and wounded men,
and a creat noise and hurry among them where they lay , they
afterwards resolved to fall upon them in the night, especially

if they could come to give them but one volley ‘before theyr I oy ‘ TQIOW *
ROBINSON CRUSOE. 394
opportunity to do; for
rit was where the fight
1e woods and the sea-side

were discovered, which they had a fair
one of the Englishmen, in whose quarte
began, led them round between tl
westward, and then turning short south, they came so near
where the thickest of them lay, that, before they were seen or
heard, eight of them fired in among them, and did dreadful
execution upon them; in half a minute more, eight others
fired after them, pouring in their small shot in such a quantity,
that abundance were killed and wounded ; and all this while
they were not able to see who hurt them, or which way to fly.

The Spaniards charged again with the utmost expedition,

and then’ divided themselves in three bodies, and resolved to
fall in among them all together. They had in each body eight
persons, that-is to say, twenty-two men, and the two women,
who, by the way, fought desperately. They divided the fire-
arms equally in each party, and so the halberds and staves.
They would have had the women kept back, but they said
they were resolved to die with their husbands. Having thus
formed their little army, they marched out from among the
trees, and came up to the teeth of the enemy, shouting and
hallooing as loud as they could; the savages stood all together,
but were in the utmost confusion, hearing the noise of our
men shouting from three quarters together: they would have
fought if they had seen us; for as soon as we came near
enough to be seen, some arrows were shot, and poor old Fri-
day was wounded, though not dangerously ; but our men gave
them no time, but, running up to them, fired among them
three ways, and then fell in with the butt-ends of their mus-
kets, their swords, armed staves, and hatchets, and laid about
them so well, that, in a word, they set up a dismal screaming
and howling, flying to save their lives which way soever they
could.

Our men were tired with the execution, and killed or ‘mor-
tally wounded, in the two fights, about one hundred and eighty
of them; the rest, being frightened out of their wits, scoured
through the woods and over the hills, with all the speed fear
and nimble feet could help them to; and as we did not trouble
ourselves much. to pursue them, they got all together to the
sea-side where they landed, and where their canoes lay? But
their disaster was not at an end yet; for it blew a terrible
storm of wind that evening from the sea, so that it was im-
possible for them to go off; nay, the storm continuing all
night, when the tide came up, their canoes were most of them
driven by the surge of the sea so high upon the shore, that it
required infinite toil to get them off; and some of them were
even dashed to pieces against the beach, or against one
another. eae : “ttl

Our men, though glad of their victory, yet got little —
that night; but having refreshed themselves as well as theySOP RRay Seen CRE PE

    
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
   
  
 
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
  
 
 
 
   

292 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

could, they resolved to march to that part of the island where
the savages were fled, and see what posture they were in.
"This necessarily led them over the place where the fight had
been, and where they found several of the poor creatures not
quite dead,and yet past recovering life; a sight disagreeable
enough to generous minds; for a truly great man, though
obliged by the law of battle to destroy his enemy, takes no
delight in his misery. However, there was no need to give

any orders in this case; for their own savages, who were their
servants, despatched these poor creatures with their latchets.

At length, they came in view of the place where the more
miserable remains of the savages’ army lay, where there ap-
peared about a hundred still; their posture was generally sit-
ting upon the ground, with their knees up towards their mouth,
and the head put between the two hands, leaning down upon
the knees.

When our men came within two musket-shots of them, the
Spaniard governor ordered two muskets to be fired, without
ball, to alarm them: this he did, that by their countenance he
might know what to expect, viz. whether they were still in
heart to fight, or were so heartily beaten as to be dispirited and
discouraged, and so he might manage accordingly. ‘This
stratagem took ; for as soon as the savages heard the first gun
and saw the flash of the second, they started up upon their
feet in the greatest consternation imaginable: and as our men
advanced swiftly towards them, they all ran screaming an
yelling away, with a kind of howling noise, which our men
did not understand, and had never heard before ; and thus they
ran up the hills into the country.

At first our men had much rather the weather had been calm,
and they had all gone away to sea; but they did not then con-
sider that this might probably have been the occasion of their
coming again in such multitudes as not to be resisted, or, at
least, to come so many, and so often, as would quite desolate
the fsland, and starve them. Will Atkins, therefore, who,
notwithstanding his wound, kept.always with them, proved the
best counsellor in this case: his advice was, to take the advan-
tage that offered, and clap in between them and their boats,
and so deprive them of the capacity of ever returning any more
to plague the island.

[hey consulted long about this; and some were against it,
for fear of making the wretches fly to the woods and live there
desperate, and so they should have them to hunt like wild
beasts, be afraid to stir out about their business, and have their
plantation continually rifled, all their tame goats destroyed, and,
in short, be reduced to a life of continual distress.

Will Atkins told them they had better have to do with
a hundred men than with a hundred nations; that as they
must destroy their boats, so they must destroy the men, oF
be all of them destroyed themselves. In a word, he showedROBINSON

 

CRUSOE. 993

them the necessity of it so plainly, that they all came
into it; so they went to work immediately with the boats,
and getting some dry wood toget’ier from a dead tree, they
tried to set some of them on fire, but they were so wet that
they would not burn; however, fae fire so burned the upper
part, that it soon made them rafit for swimming in the sea
as boats. When the Indians sew what they were about, some
of them came running out of tle woods, and coming as near as
they. could to our men, knee ed down and cried, ‘‘Oa, Oa,
Waramokoa,”’ and some other words of their language, which
none of the others understoor any thing of; but as they made
pitiful gestures and strange noises, it was easy to understand
they beggea to have their boats spared, and that they would be
gone, and never come there again. But our men were now
satisfied that they had no way to preserve themselves, or to
save their colony, but effectually to prevent any of these peo-
ple from ever going home again; depending upon this, that
if even so much as one of them got back ito their country
to tell the story, the colony was undone; so that, letting them
know that they should not. have any mercy, they fell to work
with their canoes, and destroyed them every one that the
storm had not destroyed before ; at the sight of which the say-
ages raised a hideous cry in the woods, which our people heard
plain enough, after which they ran about the island like dis-
tracted men; so that, in a word, our men did not really know
at first what to do with them. Nor did the Spaniards, with all
their prudence, consider, that while they made those people
thus desperate, they ought to have kept a good guard at the
same time upon their plantations; for though, it 1s true, they
had driven away their cattle, and the Indians did not find out
their main retreat—I mean my old castle at the hill—nor the
cave in the valley, yet they found out my plantation at the
bower, and pulled it all to pieces, and all the fences and _plant-
ing about it; trod all the corn under foot, tore up the vines
and grapes, being just then almost ripe, and did our men an
inestimable damage, though to themselves not one farthing’s
worth of service. :

Though our men were able to fight them upon all occasions,
yet they were in no condition to pursue them, or hunt them
up and down; for as they were too nimble of foot for our men,
when they found them single, so our men durst not go abroad
single, for fear of being surrounded with their numbers. The
best was, they had no weapons; for though they had bows,
they had no arrows left, nor any materials to make any; nor
had they any edged tool or weapon among them.

The extremity and distress they were reduced to was great,
and indeed deplorable; but, at the same time, our men
were also brought to very bad circumstances by them;
for though their retreats were preserved, yet their provision.
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294 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

was destroyed, and their harvest spoiled; and what to do, or
which way to turn themselves, they knew not. The only

efuge they had now was, the stock of cattle they had in the
alley by the cave, and some little corn which grew there, and
the plant tation of ie three Englishmen, Will Atkins and his
comr: ades, who were now reduced to two; one of them being
killed by an arrow, ‘Wack struck him on the side of his head,
just under the temples, so that he never spoke more: and it
was very remarkable, that this was the same barbarous fellow
that cut the poor savage slave with his hatchet, and who after-
wards intended to have murdered the Spaniards.

I looked upon their case to have been worse at this time
than mine was at any time, after I first discovered the grains
of barley and rice, and got into the manner of planting and
raising my corn, and my tame cattle; for now they had, as I
may say, a hundred wolves upon the ‘island, which would de-
vour every thing they could come at, yet could be hardly
come at themselves.

When they saw what their circumstances were, the first
thing they concluded was, that they would, if possible, drive
them up to the farther part of the island, south-west, that if
any more savages came on shore they might not find one
another ; then that they would daily hunt and. harass them, and
kill as many of them as they could come at, till they had re-
duced their number ; and if they could at last tame them, and
bring them to any thing, they would give them corn, and teach
them how to plant, and live upon their daily labor.

In order to this, they so followed them, and so terrified them
with their guns, that in a few days, if any of them fired a gun
at an Indian, if he did not hit him, yet he would fall down : for
fear; and so dreadfully frightened they were, that they kept
out of sight farther and farther ; till, at last, our men following
them, and almost every day killing Or wounding some of them,
they kept up in the woods or hollow places so much, that it
reduced them to the utmost misery for want of food : and
many were afterwards found dead in the woods, without any
nurt, absolutely starved to death.

When our men found this, it made their hearts relent, and
pity moved them, especially the Spaniard governor, who was
the most Seritletiancilee: generous-minded man, that I ever
met with in my life; and he proposed, if possible, to take one
of them alive, and bring him to understand what they meant,
so far as to be able to act as interpreter, and go among them,
and see if they might be brought to some “conditions that
might be depended upon, to save their lives and do us no

harm.

It was some while before any of them could be taken; but
being weal and half starved, one of them was at last surprised
and made a prisoner. He was sullen at first, and would

x

   

otROBINSON CRUSOE. 295

neither eat nor drink; but finding himself kindly used, and
victuals given him, and no violence 0 1 him, he at last
grew tractable, and came to himself. They brought old
Friday to him, who talked often with him, and told him
how kind the others would be to them all; that they would
not only save their lives, but would ¢ them part of the
island to live in, provix ed the y would ¢ e satisfaction that
they would keep i in their own bounce ot come beyond it
to injure or prejudice others; and ae t ee should have corn
given them te plant and make it grow for their bread, and
some bread given them for eM present subsistence; and old
Friday bade the fellow go and talk with the rest of his coun-
trymen, and see what they said to it; assuring them, that if
they did not agree immediately, they should be. all destroyed.

The poor wretches, thoroughly humbled, and reduced in
number to about thirty- -seven, closed with the proposal at the
first offer, and begged to have some food given them; upon
which, twelve Spaniards and two Englishmen, well armed,
with three Indian slaves and old Frid: LY, marched to the place
where they were. The three Indian slaves carried them a
large quantity of bread, some rice boiled up to cakes and dried
in the sun, and three | live goats; and they were ordered to go
to the side of a hill, where they sat down, ate their provisions
very thankfully, and were the most faithful fellows to their
words that could be thought of; for, except when they came
to beg victuals and direc stions, they never came out of their
ee and there they lived when I came to the island, and
I went to see them.

They had taught them both to plant corn, make bread,
breed tame goats, and milk them; they wanted nothing but
wives, and they soon would have na nation. They were
confined to a neck of land, surrounded with high rocks behind
them, and lying plain towards the sea before them, on the
south-east corner of the island. The 2»y had land enough, and
it was very good and fruitful; about a mile and a half broad,
and three or four miles in length.

Our men taught them to make wooden spades, such as |
made for myself, and gave among them twelve hatchets and
three or four knives ; ‘and there the y lived, the most subjected,
innocent creatures that ever were heard of.

After this, the colony enjoyed a perfect tranquillity with
respect tothe savages till 1 came to revisit them, which was
about two years after; not but ee now and then, some Ca-
noes of savages came on shore for their triumphal, unnatural
feasts; but as they were of several nations, and perhaps had
never heard of those that came before, or the reason of it, they
did not make any search or inquiry ¢ after their countrymen ;
and if they had, it would have been very hard to have found
them out.

Thus, I think, I have given a full account of all that hap-Fee oe ae

SER ence IRIE LOE LTRS

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

296

pened to them till my return, at least, that was worth notice.
‘She Indians or savages were wonderfully civilized by them,
and they frequently went among them; but forbid, on pain of
death, any one of the Indians coming to ae because they

would not have their settlement betrayed again. One thing
was very remarkable, viz. that they scivesl the savages to
make wicker-work, or baskets, but they soon outdid their
masters; for they made abundance of most ingenious things
in wicker-work, ee all sorts of baskets, sieves, bird-
cages, cupboards, @&c.; as also chairs to sit on, stools, beds,
couches, and abundance of other things; being very ingenious
at such work, when they were once put in the way of it.

My coming was a particular relief to these people, because
we furnished. them with knives, scissors, spades, shovels, pick-
axes, and all things of that kind which they could want. With
the help of those tools they were so very handy, that they
came at last to build up their huts, or houses, very hand-
sonnel, raddling or working it up like basket-work all the
way round; w hich was a ver y extraordinary piece of inge-
nulty, Sect looked very odd, but was an exceeding good fence,
as well against heat as against all sorts of vermin ; ree our men
were so taken with it, that they got the wild savages to come
and do the like for them; so that when I came to see the two
Englishmen’s colonies, they looked, at a distance, as if they all
lived like bees in a hive. As for Will ee who was now
become a very industrious, useful, and sober fellow, he had
made himself such a tent of basket-work , as, I believe, was
never seen; it was one hundred and twenty paces round on
the outside, as I measured by my steps; the walls were as

close worked as a basket, in panels or squares of thirty-two
in number, and very strong, standing about seven feet high ;
in the middle was another not above ‘twenty -two paces round,

but built stronger, being octagon in its form, and in the eight
corners stood eight very strong posts; round the top of which
he laid strong pieces, pinned together with wooden pins,
from which he raised a pyramid for a roof of eight rafters,
very handsome, [I assure you, and joined together very well,
though he had no nails, and only a few iron ‘spikes, which he
made himself too, out of the old iron that I had left there; and,
indeed, this fellow showed abundance of ingenuity in several
things which he had no knowledge of; he made him a forge,
with a pair of wooden bellows to blow the fire; he made him-
self charcoal for his work; and he formed out of the iron
crows a middling good anvil to hammer upon; in this manner
he made many things, but especially hooks, staples and spikes,
bolts and hinges.—But to return to the house: After he had
pitched the roof of his innermost tent, he worked it up between
the rafters with the basket-work, so firm, and thatched that
over again so ingeniously with rice-straw, and aver that aROBINSON CRUSOR.

large leaf of a tree, which covered the top, that his house was as
dry as if it had been tiled or slated. Indeed, he owned that the
savages had made the basket-work for him. ‘The outer circuit
was covered as a lean-to, all round this inner apartment, and
long rafters lay from the thirty-two angles to the top posts of
the inner house, being about twenty feet distant; so that there
was a space like a walk within the outer wicker-wall and with-
out the inner, near twenty feet wide.
The inner place he partitioned off with the same wicker-
work, but much fairer, and divided into six apartments, so
that he had six rooms on a floor, and out of every one of these
nere was a door; first into the entry, or coming into the main
tent, another door into the main tent, and another door into the
space or walk that was round it; so that walk was also divided
into six equal parts, which served not only for a retreat, but
to store up any necessaries which the family had occasion for.
These six spaces not taking up the whole circumference,
what other apartments the outer circle had were thus ordered :
As soon as you were in atthe door of the outer circle, you
had a short passage straight before you to the door of the
inner house; but on either side was a wicker partition, and a
door in it, by which you went first into a large room, or store-
house, twenty feet wide, and about thirty feet long, and
through that into another, not quite so long; so that in the
outer circle were ten handsome rooms, six of which were only
to be come at through the apartments of the inner tent, and
served as closets or retiring rooms to the respective chambers
of the inner circle; and four large warehouses, or barns, or
what you please to call them, which went through one another,
two on either hand of the passage, that led through the outer
door to the inner tent.
Such a piece of basket-work, I believe, was never seen in
the world, nor a house or tent so neatly contrived, much less
so built. In this great bee-hive lived the three families, that
is to say, Will Atkins and his companion; the third was killed,
but his wife remained, with three children, for she was, it
seems, big with child when he died; and the other two were
not at all backward to give the widow her fuli share of every
thing, I mean as to their corn, milk, grapes, &c., and when
they killed a kid, or found a turtle on the shore; so that they
ul lived well enough, though, it was true, they were not so
industrious as the other two, as has been observed already.
One thing, however, cannot be omitted, viz. that as for re-
ligion, I do not know that there was any thing of that kind
among them: they often, indeed, put one another in mind that
there was a God, by the very common method of seamen, viz.
saring by his name; nor were their poor, ignorant, savage
wives much better for having been married to Christians,
we must call them; for as they knew very little of God them-Seen MEME REG

RATER s pr Caen

SCR RRR

Re ete Sahn Sy

 

 

908 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

selves, so they were utterly incapable of entering into any
discourse with their wives about a God, or to talk any thing to
them concerning religion.

The utmost of all the improvement which [ can say the
wives had made from them was, that they had ae them to
speak English pretty well; and most of their chil ldren, which
were near twenty in all, ‘were taught to speak English too,
from their first learning to speak, though they at fi rst spoke it
in avery broken manner, like their mothers. ‘There was none
of these children above six years old when I came thither, for it
was not much above seven years that they had fetched these five
savage ladies over; but they had all been pretty fruitful, for
they “had all children, more or less; I think the cook’s mate’s
wife was big of her sixth child; and the mothers were all a
good sort of: well- governed, quiet, laborious women, modest
and decent, helpful to one another, mighty observant and
subject to their masters (I cannot call them husbands ), and
wanted nothing but to be well instructed in the Christian re-
ligion, and to be legally married; both which were happily
brought about afterwards by my means, or, at least, in con-
sequence of my coming among them.

Having thus given an account of the colony in general, and
pretty much of my runagate English, I must say something
of the Spaniards, who were the main body of the family, and in
whose story there are some incidents also remarkable enough.

| had a great many discourses with them about their cir-
cumstances when they were among the savages. They told
me readily that they had no instances to give of their apa
cation or ingenuity in that country ; that they were a poor,
miserable, dejected handful of people ; that if means had been
put into their hands, yet they had. so abandoned themselves to
despair, and so sunk under the w eight of their misfortune, that
they thought of nothing but starving. One of them, a grave
and sensible man, told me he was couvinced they w ere in the
wrong; that itw as not the part of wise men to give themselves
up to their misery, but always to take hold of the helps which
reason offered, as well for present support as for future deliv-
erance: he told me that grief was the most senseless, insignifi-

cant passion in the worl d, for that it regarded only things past,
which were generally impossi ble to be recalled, or to be rem-
edied, but had no views of things to come, and had no share in
any t thing that looked like delive erance, but rather added to the
affliction than proposed a remedy ; and upon this he repeated
a Spanish proverb, which thoug hI cannot repeat in just the
same words that he spoke it in, yet I remember I made it into
an English proverb of my own, thus :—

In trouble to be troubled,
Is to have your trouble doubled.

He ran on then in remarks upon all the little improvementsROBINSON CRUSOE. 999

J had made in my solitude; my unwearied application, as he
called it; and how I had made a condition which, in its cir-
cumstances, was at first much worse than theirs, a thousand
times more happy than theirs was, even now when they were
all together. He told me it was remarkable that Englishmen
had a greater presence of mind, in their distress, than any
people that ever he met with; that their unhappy nation
and the Portuguese were the worst men in the world to strug-
gle with misfortunes; for that their first step in dangers, after
the common efforts were over, was to despair, lie down under
it, and die, without rousing their thoughts up to proper rem-
edies for escape.

I told him-their case and mine differed exceedingly ; thas

hey were cast upon the shore without necessaries, without
supply of food, or present sustenance till they could provide
it; that, it was true, I had this disadvantage and discomfort,
that £ was alone; but then the supplies I had providentially
thrown into my hands, by the unexpected driving of the ship
on shore, was such a help as would have encouraged any crea-
ture in the world to have applied himself as I had done.
‘* Seignior,”’ says the Spaniard, ‘‘ had we poor Spaniards been
in your case, we should never have got half those things out
of the ship, as you did; nay,” says he, ‘‘we should never
have found means to have got a raft to carry them, or to have
got the raft on shore without boat or sail; and how much less
should we have done if any of us had been alone!” Well, I
desired him to abate his compliment, and go on with the his-
tory of their coming on shore, where they landed. He told
me they unhappily landed at a place where there were people
without provisions; whereas, had they had the common sense
to have put off to sea again, and gone to another island a little
farther, they had found provisions, though without people ;
there being an island that way, as they had been told, where
there were provisions, though no people; that is to say, that
the Spaniards of Trinidad had frequently been there, and had
filled the island with goats and hogs at several times, where
they had bred in such multitudes, and where turtle and sea-
fowls were in such plenty, that they could have been in ne
want of flesh, though they had found no bread ; whereas here,
they were only sustained with a few roots and herbs, which
they understood not, and which had no substance in them, and
which the inhabitants gave them sparingly enough; and who
could treat them no better, unless they would turn cannibals,
and eat men’s flesh, which was the great dainty of their
country.

They gave me an account how many ways they strove to
civilize the savages they were with, and to teach them rational
customs in the ordinary way of living, but in vain; and how
-hey retorted it upon them, as unjust, that they, who cameEIN cH EER AC

LT ROMERO CON

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300 ROBINSON. CRUSOE.

there for assistance and support, should attempt to set up for
instructors of those that gave them food; intimating, it seems,
that none should set up for the instructors of others but those
who could live without them.

They gave me dismal: accounts of the extremities they
were driven to; how sometimes they. were many days without
any food at all, the island they were upon being inhabited by a
sort of savages that lived more indolent, and for that reason
were less supplied with the necessaries of life, than they had
reason to believe others were in the same part of the world;
and yet they found that these savages were less rayenous and
voracious than those who had better supplies of. food. Also
they added, they could not but: see with what demonstrations
of wisdom and goodness the governing providence of God
directs the events of things in the world; which, they said,
appeared in their circumstances ; for if, pressed by the hard-
atips they were under, and the barrenness of the country where
they were, they had searched after a better to live in, they had
then been out of the way of the relief that happened to them
by my means.

They then gave me an account how the savages, whom they
lived among, expected them to go out with them into their wars ;
and it was true, that as they had fire-arms with them, had they
not had the disaster to lose their ammunition, they should have
been serviceable not only to their friends, but have made them-
selves terrible both to friends and enemies; but being without
powder and shot, and yet in a condition that they could n t
In reason deny to go out with their landlords to their wars, .0
when they came into the field of battle, they were in a worse
condition than the savages themselves ;- for they had neither
bows nor arrows, nor could they use those the savages gave
them; so they could do nothing but stand still, and be wounded
with arrows, till they came up in the teeth of their enemy;
and then, indeed, the three halberds. they had were of use to
them, and they would often drive a whole little army before
them with those halberds, and sharpened sticks put into th-
muzzles of their muskets; but that, for all this, they wer
sometimes surrounded with multitudes, and in great danget
from their arrows, till at last they found the way to make
themselves large ta:gets of wood, which they covered with
skins of wild beasts, whose names they knew not, and these
covered them from the arrows of the savages3. that, notwith-
standing these, they were sometimes in great danger, and five
of them were once knocked down together with the clubs of the
Savages, which was the time when one.of them was taken pris-
oner, that is to say, the Spaniard whom [ had relieved; that at
first they thought he had been killed ; but when they afterwards
heard he was taken: prisoner, they were under the greatest
grief imaginable, and would willingly have all ventured their
ives to have rescued him.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 301

They told me that when they were so knocked down, the
rest of their company rescued them, and stood over them fight-
ing till they were come to themselves, all but him, who, they
thought, had been dead; and then they made their way with
their halberds and pieces, standing close together in a line,
through a body of above a thousand savages, beating down ail
that came in their way, got the victory over their enemies, but
to their great sorrow, because it was with the loss of their friend,
whom the other party, finding him alive, carried off, with some
others, as I gave an account before.

They described, most affectionately, how they were sur-
prised with joy at the return of their friend and companion in
misery, who, they thought, had been devoured by wild beasts
c the worst kind, viz. by witd men; and yet how more and
nore they were surprised with the account he gave them of
his errand, and that there was a Christian in any place near,
much more one that was able, and had humanity enough, to
contribute to their deliverance.

They described how they were astonished at the sight of the
relief I sent them, and at the appearance of loaves of bread,
things they had not seen since their coming to that miserable
place; how often they crossed and blessed it as bread sent
from Heaven; and what a reviving cordial it was to their

spirits to taste it, as also the other things I had sent for ther
supply ; and, after all, they would have told me something of
the joy they were in at the sight of a boat and pilots, to carry
them away to the person and place from whence all these new
comforts came, but it was impossible to express it by words,

for their excessive joy naturally driving them to unbecoming
extravagances, they had no way to describe them, but by tell-
ing me they bordered upon lunacy, having no way to give
vent to their passions suitable to the sense that was upon
them; that in some it worked one way, and in some another ;
and that some of them, through a surprise of joy, would burst
into tears, others be stark mad, and others immediately faint.
This discourse extremely affected me, and called to my mind
Friday’s ecstasy when he met his father, and the poor people’s
ecstasy when I took them up at sea after their ship was on
fire; the joy of the mate of the ship when he found himself
delivered in the place where he expected to perish ; and my
own joy, when, after twenty-eight years’ captivity, 1 found a
good ship ready to carry me to my own country. All these
things made me more sensible of the relation of these poor
men, and more affected with it.

Having thus given a view of the state of things as | found
hem, I must relate the heads of what I did for these people,
ind the condition in which I left them. It was their opinion,
nd mine too, that they vould be troubled no more with the
savages, or, if they were, they would be able to cut them of

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302 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

if they were twice as many as before; so they had no concern
about that. Then I entered into a serious discourse with the
Spaniard, whom I call governor, about their stay i the
island; for as I was not come to carry any of them off, so it
would not be just to carry off some and leave others, who,
perhaps, would be unwilling to stay if their strength was di-
minished. On the other hand, I told them I came to establish
them there, not to remove them; and then I let them know
that I had brought with me relief of sundry kinds for them ;
that I had been at a great charge to supply them with all
things necessary, as well for their convenience as their de-
fence ; and that I had such and such particular persons with
me, as well to increase and recruit their number, as, by the

articular necessary employments which they were bred to,
being artificers, to assist them in those things in which at
present they were in want.

They were all together when I talked thus to them; and
before I delivered to them the stores I had brought, I asked
them one by one, if they had entirely forgot and buried the
first animosities that had been among them, and would shake
hands with one another, and engage in a strict friendship and
union of interest, that so there might be no more misunder-
standings and jealousies.

Will Atkins, with abundance of frankness and good-humor,
said, they had met with affliction enough to make them all
sober, and enemies enough to make them all friends; that,
for his part, he would live and die with them; and was so far
from designing any thing against the Spaniards, that he owned
they had done nothing to him but what his own. mad humor
made necessary, and what he would have done, and perhaps
worse, in their case; and that he would ask them pardon, if [
desired it, for the foolish and brutish things he had done to
them, and was very willing and desirous of living in terms of
entire friendship and union with them, and would do any thing
that lay in his power to convince ther of it; and as for going
to England, he cared not if he did not go thither these twenty
years.

The Spaniards said they had, indeed, at first disarmed and
excluded Will Atkins and his two countrymen for their ill
conduct, as they had let me know, and they appealed to me
for the necessity they were under to do so; but that Will
Atkins had behaved himself so bravely in the great fight they
had with the savages, and on several occasions since, and had
showed himself so faithful to, and concerned for, the general
interest of them all, that they had forgotten all that was past,
and thought he merited as much to be trusted with arms, and
supplied with necessaries, as any of them; and they had tes-
tified their satisfaction in him, by committing the command to
luim, next to the governor himself; and as they had entire con303
fidence in him, and all his countrymen, so they acknowledged
they had merited that confidence by all the methods that honest
men could merit to be valued and trusted; and they most
heartily embraced the occasion of giving me this assurance;
that they would never have any interest separate from one
another.

Upon these frank and open declarations of friendship, we
appointed the next day to dine all together; and, indeed, we
made a splendid feast. I caused the ship’s cook and his mate
to come on shore and dress ofr dinner, and the old cook’s
mate we had on shore assisted. We brought on shore six
pieces of good beef, and four pieces of pork, out of the ship’s
provision, with our punch-bowl, and materials to fill it; and,
in particular, I gave tlem ten bottles of French claret, and
ten bottles of English beer; things that neither the Spaniards
nor the English had tasted for many years, and which, it may
be supposed, they were very glad of. The Spaniards added
to our feast five whole kids, which the cooks roasted; and
three of them were sent, covered up close, on board the ship
to the seamen, that they might feast on fresh meat from on
shore, as we did with their salt meat from on board.

After this feast, at which we were very innocently merry, I
brought out my cargo of goods; wherein, that there might be
no dispute about dividing, I showed them that there was a sufli-
ciency for them all, desiring that they might all take an equal
quantity of the goods that were for wearing; that is to say,
equal when made up. As, first, I distributed linen sufficient
to make every one of them four shirts, and, at the Spaniards’
request, afterwards made them up six; these were exceeding
comfortable to them, having been what, as I may say, they
had long since forgot the use of, or what it was to wear them.
I allotted the thin English stuffs, which I mentioned before, to
make every one a light coat like a frock, which I judged fittest
for the heat of the season, cool and loose; and ordered that
whenever they decayed, they should make more, as they
thought fit; the like for pumps, shoes, stockings, hats, &c.

T cannot express what pleasure, what satisfaction, s upon
the countenances of all these poor men, when they saw the
care I had taken of them, and how well I had furnished them.
They told me I was a father to them; and that having such a
correspondent as | was in so remote a part of the world, it
would make them forget that they were left in a desolate place ;
and they all voluntarily engaged to me not to leave the place
without my consent.

Then I presented to them the people I had brought with me,
particularly the tailor, the smith, and the two carpenters, all
of them most necessary people ; but, above all, my general ar-
tificer, than whom they youl not name any thing that was more
useful to them: and the tailor, to show his concern for them,2): STARR ROR eae ACME MEY AA? ES TR AH

304 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

went to work immediately, and, with my leave, made them every
one a shirt, the first thing he did; and, which was still more,
he taught the women not only how to sew and stitch, and use
the needle, but made them assist to make the shirts for their
husbands, and for all the rest.

As to the carpenters, I scarce need mention how useful
they were; for they took to pieces all my clumsy, unhandy
things, and made them clever, convenient tables, stools, bed-
steads, cupboards, lockers, shglves, and every thing they want-
ed of that kind. But to let them see how nature made artificers
at first, I carried the carpenters to see Will Atkins’s basket-
house, as I called it; and they both owned they never saw an
instance. of such natural ingenuity before, nor any thing so
regular and so handily built, at least of its kind; and one of
them, when he saw it, after musing a good while, turning
about to me, ‘“‘I am sure,”’ says he, ‘‘ that man has no need of
us; you need do nothing but give him tools.”

‘Then I brought them out all my store of tools, and gave
every man a digging-spade, a shovel, and a rake, for we had
no harrows or ploughs; and to every separate place a pickaxe,
a crow, a broad axe, and a saw; always appointing, that as
ofteu as any were brokenor worn out, they should be supplied,
without grudging, out of the general stores that I left behind.
Nails, staples, hinges, hammers, chisels, knives, scissors, and
all sorts tnortw rk, they had without tale, as they required
for no man would take more than be wanted, and he must be a
foc! that would waste or spoil them on any account whatever ;
and for the use of the smith, I left two tons of unwrought iron
for a supply.

My magazine of powder. and arms which I brought them
was such,-even to profusion, that they could not but rejoice at
them; for now they could march as I used to do, with a mius-
ket upon each shoulder, if there was occasion ; and were able
to fight a thousand savages, if they had but some little advan-
tages of situation, which also they could not miss, if they had
occasion.

I carried on shore with me the young man whose mother
was starved to death, and the maid also: she wasa sober, well-
educated, religious young woman, and behaved so inoffensively,
that every one gave her a good word: she had,.indeed, an un-
happy life with us, there being no woman in the ship but her-
self; but she bore it with patience. After a while, seeing things
so well ordered, and in:so fine a way of thriving upon my island,
and considering that they had neither business nor acquaint-
ance in the East Indies, or reason for taking so long a voyage ;
[ say, considering all this, both of them came to me, and de-
sired I would give them leave to remain on the island, and be
entered among my family, as they called it. I agreed to this
readily ; and they had a little plot of ground allotted to them,
where they had three tents or houses set up, surrounded withROBINSON CRUSOE. 305

a basket-work, pallisadoed like Atkins’s adjoining to his plan-
z a ce

: :
Their tents wer atrived so that they had each
tent, like

to
the same place; and so the island was divided into three colo-
nies, and no more, viz. the Spaniards, with old Friday, and the
first servants, at my old habitation under the hill, which
in a word, the capital city ; and where they had so enlargec
and extended their works, as well under as on the outside of the
hill, that they lived, though perfectly concealed, yet full at
large. Never was there such alittle city in a wood, and sa
hid, in any part of the world; for 1 verily believe a thousand
men might have ranged the island a month, and, if they had
not known there was such a thing, and looked on purpose for
it, they would not have found it; for the trees stood so thick
and so close, and grew so fast woven one into another, that
nothing but cutting them down first could discover the place,
except the only two narrow entrances where they went in and
out could be found, which was not very easy ; one of them was
close down, at the water’s edge, on the side of the creek, and it
was afterwards above two hundred yards to the place; and the
other was up a ladder at twice, as | have already formerly de-
scribed it; and they had also a large wood, thick planted, on
the top of the hill, containing above an acre, which grew apace,
and concealed the place from all discovery there, with only one
narrow place between two trees, not easily to be discovered, to
enter on that side.

The other colony was that 6f Will Atkins, where there were
four families of Englishmen (I mean those I had left there,
with their wives and children); three savages that were slaves ;
the widow and the children of the Englishman that was killed ;
the young man andthe maid; and, by the way, we made a
wife of her before we went away. There was also the two
carpenters and the tailor, whom I brought with me for them ;
also the smith, who was a very necessary man to them, espe-
cially as a gun-smith, to take care of their arms ; and my other
man, whom I called Jack-of-all-trades, who was in himself as
good almost as twenty men ; for he was not only a very inge-
nious fellow, but a very merry fellow; and before I went away,
we married him to the honest maid that came with the youth
in the ship I mentioned before.

And now I speak of marrying, it brings me naturally to say
something of the French ecclesiastic that I had brought with
me out of the -ship’s crew whom I took up at sea. It is true,
this man was a Roman, and perhaps it may give offence ta
some hereafter, if I leave any thing extraordinary upon record
of a man whom, before I begin, I must (to set him out in just
colors) represent in terms very much to his disadvantage, 1,mperiten ABI:

Geer

SEEN

Me ee re eee ee =

306 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

the account of Protestants ; as, first, that he was a Papist;
secondly, a Popish priest; and, thirdly, a French Popish
oriest. But justice demands of me to give him a due charac-
ter; and L must say, he was a grave, sober, pious, and most
religious person; exact in his life, extensive in his charity, and
exemplary in almost every thing he did. What then can any
one say against being very sensible of the value of such a
man, notwithstanding his profession? though it may be my
opinion, perhaps, as well as the opinion of others who shall
read this, that he was mistaken.

The first hour that I began to converse with him after he
had agreed to go with me to the East Indies, I found reason to
delight exceedingly in his conversation; aad he first began
with me about religion in the most obliging manner imagt-
nable. ‘Sir,’ says he, “you have not only, under God (and
at that he crossed his breast), saved my life, but you have ad-
mitted me to go this voyage in your ship, and by your obliging
civility have taken me into your family, giving me an oppor-
tunity of free conversation. Now, sir, you see by my habit
what my profession is, and I guess by your nation what yours
is; | may think it is my duty—and doubtless it is so—to use
my utmost endeavors, on all occasions, to bring all the souls L
can to the knowledge of the truth, and to embrace the Cath-
olic doctrine; but as] am here under your permission, and
in your family, I am bound, in justice to your kindness, as
well as in decency and good manners, to be under your gov-
ernment; and therefore I shall not, without your leave, enter
into any debate on the points of religion in which we may not
agree, further than you shall give me leave.”

I told him his carriage was so modest, that I could not but
acknowledge it; that it was true, we were such people as they
called heretics, but that he wes not the first Catholic I had
conversed with, without falling _. to inconveniences, or carry-
ing the questions to any height in debate; that he should not
find himself the worse used for being of a different opinion
from us; and if we did not converse without any dislike on
either side, it should be his fault, not ours

He replied, that he thought all our conversation might be
easily separated from disputes; that it was not his business
to cap principles with every man he conversed with; and
that he rather desired me to converse with him as a gentleman
than as a religionist; and that, if I would give him leave at
any time to discourse upon religious subjects, he would readily
comply with it, and that he did not doubt but I would allow
him also to defend his own opinions as well as he could; but
that, without my leave, he would not break in upon me with
any such thing. He told me, further, that he would not cease
to do all that became him, in his office as a priest, as well as a
private Christian, to procure the good of the ship, and theROBINSON CRUSOE, 307

safety of all that was in her; and though, perhaps, we would
not join with him, and he could not pray with us, he hoped he
might pray for us, which he would do upon all occasions. In
this manner we conversed ; and, as he was of the most oblig-
ing, gentlemanlike behavior, so he was, if 1 may be allowe
to say so, a man of good sense, and, as I believe, of great
learning.

He gave me a most diverting account of his life, and of the
many extraordinary events of it; of many adventures which
had befallen him in the few years that he had been abroad in
the world; and particularly this was very remarkable, viz.
that in the voyage he was now.engaged in, he had the misfor-
tune to be five times shipped and unshipped, and never to go
to the place whither any of the ships he was in were at first
designed. That his first intent was to have gone to Martinico,
and that he went on board a ship bound thither at St. Malo:
but, being forced into Lisbon by bad weather, the ship re-
ceived some damage by running aground in the mouth of the
river T'agus, and was obliged to unload. her cargo there; but
finding a Portuguese ship there bound to the Madeiras, and
ready to sail, and supposing he should easily meet with a ves-
sel there bound to Martinico, he went on board, in order to
sail to the Madeiras; but the master of the Portuguese ship,
being but an indifferent mariner, had been out of his reckon-
ing, and they drove to Fyal; where, however, he happened to
find avery good market for his cargo, which was corn, and
therefore resolved not to go to the Madeiras, but to load salt
at the Isle of May, and to go away to Newfoundland. He had
no remedy in this exigence but to go with the ship, and had a
pretty good voyage as far as the Banks (so they call the place
where they catch the fish); where meeting with a French
ship bound from France to Quebec, in the river of Canada,
and from thence to Martinico, to carry provisions, he thought
he should have an opportunity to complete his first de-
sign; but when he came to Quebec, the master of the ship
died, and the vessel proceeded no farther: so the next voyage
he shipped himself for France, in the ship that was burned
when we took them up at sea; and then shipped with us for
the Bast Indies, as I have already said. Thus he had been
disappointed in five voyages, all, as I may call it, in one
voyage, besides what I shall have occasion to mention further
of the same person. ee ;

But [ shall not make digression into other men’s stories,
which have no relation to my own: I return to what concerns
our affairs in theisland. He came to me one morning,—for he
lodged among us all the while we were upon the island,—and it
happened to be just when I was going to visit the English-
men’s colony, at the farthest part of the island; I say, he
came to me, and told me, with a very grave countenance,
that he had for two or three days desfted an opportunity of4
E
ti f
i
12 P

EDOM IRR TET

308 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

some discourse with me, which he hoped would not be dis
pleasing to me, because he thought it might in some measure
correspond with my general design, which was, the prosperity
of my new colony, and perhaps might put it, at least more
than he yet thought it was, in the way of God’s blessing.

I looked a little surprised at the last part of his discourse,
and turning a little short, ‘‘ How, sir,” said I, ‘‘can it be said
that we are not in the way of God’s blessing, after such visible
assistances and wonderful deliverances as we have seen here,
and of which I have given you a large account?””—‘‘If you
had pleased, sir,” said he, with a world of modesty, and yet
with great readiness, ‘‘to have heard me, you would have
found no room to have been displeased, much less to think so
hard of me, that I should suggest that you have not had won-
derful assistances and deliverances; and I hope, on your be-
half, that you are in the way of God’s blessing, as your design
is exceeding good, and will prosper : but, sir, though it were
more so than Is even possible to you, yet there may be some
among you that are not equally right in_ their actions: and
you know, that in the story of the children of Israel, one
Achan in the camp removed God’s blessing from them, and
turned his hand so against them, that six-and-thirty of them,
though not concerned in the crime, were the objects of divine
vengeance, and bore the weight of that punishment.”

I was sensibly touched with his discourse, and told him his
inference was so just, and the whole design seemed so sincere,
and was really so religious in its own nature, that I was very
sorry I had interrupted him, and begged him to go on: -and,
in the mean time, because it seemed that what we had both to
say might take up some time, I told him I was going to the
Englishmen’s plantations, and asked him to go with me, and
we might discourse of it by the way. He told me he would
the more willingly wait on me thither, because there partly
the thing was acted which he desired to speak to me about;
so we walked on, and I pressed him to be free and plain with
me in what he had to say.

‘Why then, sir,” says he, ‘be pleased to give me leave to
lay down a few propositions, as the foundation of what I have
to say, that we may not differ in the general principles, thoug]
we may be of some differing opinions in the practice of par
ticulars. First, sir, though we differ in some of the doctrinal
articles of religion,—and it is very unhappy it is so, especially
in the case before us, as I shall show afterwards,—yet there are
some general principles in which we both agree, viz. that
there is a God; and that this God having given us some stated,
general rules for our service and obedience, we ought not
willingly and knowingly to offend him, either by neglecting to
do what he has commanded, or by doing what he has express-
ly forbidden ; and let our different religions be what they will,ROBINSON CRUSOE. 309

this general principle is readily owned by us all, that the
blessing of God does: not. ordinarily follow presumptuous sin-
ning against his command; and every good Christian will be
affectionately concerned to prevent any that are under his
care living in a total neglect of God and his commands.
It is not-your men being Protestants, whatever my opinion
may be of such, that discharges me from being concerned for
their souls, and from endeavoring, if it lies before me, that
they should live in as little distance from enmity with their
Maker as possible, especially if you give me leave to meddle
o far in your circuit.”

I could not yet imagine what he aimed at, and told him I
granted all he had said, and thanked him that he would so far
concern himself for us; and begged he would explain the

articulars of what he had observed, that, like Joshua, to take
nis own parable, I might put away the accursed thing from us.

“Why then, sir,’ says he, “‘I will take the liberty you
give me; and there are three things, which, if I am right,
must stand in the way of God’s blessing upon your endeavors
here, and which I should rejoice, for your sake, and their own,
to see removed; and, sir, I promise myself that you will fully
agree with me in them all, as soon as I name them; especially
because I shall convince you that every one of them may,
with great ease, and very much to your satisfaction, be reme-
died. First, sir,’ says he, ‘“‘ you have here four Englishmen,
who have fetched women from among the savages, and have
taken them as their wives, and have had many children by
them all, and yet are not married to them after any stated,
legal manner, as the laws of God and man require ; and there-
fore are yet, in the sense of both, no less than fornicators, if
not living in adultery. To this, sir, I know you will object
that there was no clergyman or priest of any kind, or of any
profession, to perform the ceremony ; nor any pen and ink, or
paper, to write down a contract of marriage, and have it
signed between them; and I know also, sir, what the Span-
iard governor has told you, I mean, of the agreement that he
obliged them to make when they took those women, viz. that
they should choose them out by consent, and keep separately
to them; which, by the way, is nothing of a marriage, no
agreement with the women, as wives, but only an agreement
among themselves, to keep them from quarrelling. But, sir,
the essence of the sacrament of matrimony (so he called it,
being a Roman) consists not only in the mutual consent of the
parties to take one another as man and wife, but in the formal
and legal obligation that there 1s in the contract, to compel the
man and woman, at all times, to own and acknowledge each
other ; obliging the man to abstain from all other women, to
engage in no other contract while these subsist; and, on all
occasions, as ability allows, to provide honestly for them andop SRT

$0 PsP ameter. CE te

310 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

their children; and to oblige the women to the same or like
conditions, mutatis mutandis, on their side. Now, sir,” says
he, “‘ these men may, when they please, or when occasion
presents, abandon these women, disown their. children, leave
them to perish, and take other women, and marry them while
these are living;’? and here he added with some warmth,
“‘ How, sir, is God honored in this unlawful liberty ? and how
shall a blessing succeed your endeavors in this place, however
good in®themselves, and however sincere in your design, while
these men, who at present are your subjects, under your ab-
solute government and dominion, are allowed by you to live
in open adultery ?”

I confess I was struck with the thing itself, but much more
with the convincing arguments he supported: it with ; for it was
certainly true, that though they had no clergyman upon the
spot, yet a formal contract on both sides, made before witnesses,
and confirmed by any token which they had all agreed to be
bound by, though it had been but breaking a stick between them,
engaging the men to own these women for their wives upon all
occasions, and never to abandon them or their children, and
the women to the same with their husbands, had been an effec-
tual, lawful marriage in the sight of God; and it was a great
neglect that it was not done. But I thought to have got off my
young priest by telling him that all that part was done when I|
was not here; and they had lived so many years with them
now, that if it was adultery, it was past remedy ; they could do
nothing in it now.

*“« Sir,”’ says he, ‘‘ asking your pardon for such freedom, you
are right in this, that, it being done in your absence, you could
not be charged with that part of the crime; but, I beseech you,
flatter not yourselfthat you are not therefore under an obligation
to do your utmost now to put an end to it. How can you think
but that, let the time past lie on whom it will, all the guilt, for the
future, will lie entirely upon you? because it is certainly in
your power now to put an end to it, and in nobody’s power
but yours.”

I was so dull still, that I did not take him right; but [ ima-
gined that, by putting an end to it, he meant that [ should part
them, and not suffer them to live together any longer; and I
said to him I could not do that by any means, for that would
put the whole island into confusion. He seemed surprised
that I should so far mistake him. ‘‘ No, sir,” says he, “‘I do
not mean that you should now separate them, but legally and
effectually marry them now; and as, sir, my way of marrying
them may not be easy to reconcile them to, though it will be
effectual, even by your own laws, so your way may be as well
before God, and as valid among men; I mean, by a written
contract signed by both man and woman, and by all the wit-

nesses present, which all the laws of Europe would decree to
be valid.”ROBINSON CRUSOR. 311

T was amazed to see so much true piety, and so much sin-
cerity of zeai, besides the unusual impartiality in his discourse
as to his own party or church, and such true warmth for pre-
serving the people that he had no knowledge of or relation to;
I say, for preserving them from transgressing the laws of God,
the like of which I had indeed not met: with any where; but,
recollecting what he had said of marrying them by a written con-
tract, which I knew he would stand to, I returned it back upon
him, and told him, I granted all that he had said to be just,
and on his part very kind; that I would discourse with the men
upon the point now, when I came to them; and I knew no
reason why they should scruple to let him murry them all,
which I knew well enough would be granted to be as authen.
tic and valid in England as if they were married by 9ne of our
own clergymen. What was afterwards done in this matter, |
shall speak of by itself.

1 then pressed him to tell me what was the second complaim
which he had to make, acknowledging that I was very much his
debtor for the first, and thanked him heartily for it. He told
me he would use the same freedom and plainness in the second,
and hoped | would take it as well; and this was, that notwith-
standing these English subjects of mine, as he called them, had
lived with those women for almost seven years, had taught
them to speak English, and even to read it, and that they were,
as he perceived, women of tolerable understanding, and capable
of instruction, yet they had not, to this hour, taught them any
thing of the Christian religion, no, not so much as to know
that there was_a God, or a worship, or in what manner God
was to be served; or that their own idolatry, and worshiping
they knew not whom, was false and absurd. This, he said,
was an unaccountable neglect, and what God would certainly
call them to account for, and perhaps, at last, take the work
out of their hands :—he spoke this very affectionately and
warmly. ‘‘I am persuaded,” says he, ‘had those men lived
in the savage country whence their wives came, the savages
would have taken more pains to have brought them to be idol-
aters, and to worship the devil, than any of these men, so far
as I can see, have taken with them to teach them the knowledge
of the true God. Now, sir,’’ said he, ‘ though I do not ac-
knowledge your religion, or you mine, yet we would be glad
to see the devil’s servants, and the subjects of his kingdom,
taught to know the general principles of the Christian religion ;
that they might, at least, hear of God and a Redeemer, and of
the resurrection, and of a future state,—things which we all
believe ; they had, at least, been so much nearer coming into
the bosom of the true church than they are now, In the public
profession of idolatry and devil-worship. : :

I could hold no longer; I took him in my arms, and embra-
ced him with ar excess of passion. ‘‘ How far,” said I to him,SOROS PERO eH

312 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

‘have 1 been from understanding the most essential part of a
Christian ! viz. to love the interest of the Christian church, and
the good of other men’s souls: I scarce have known what be
longs to the being a Christian.” —‘‘ O, sir, do not say so,”’ re-
plied he ; “‘ this thing is not your fault.” —“ No,” said I; ‘* but
why did I never lay it to heart as well as you ?”’—“‘ It is not too
late yet,”’ said he; “‘ be not too forward to condemn yourself.”
—*+ But what can be done now?” said I; ‘‘ you see I am go-
ing away.””—‘‘ Will you give me leave to talk with these poor
men about it ?’”’—“ Yes, with all my heart,” said [; ‘‘ and will
oblige them to give heed to what you say too.”’—‘*‘ As to that,”
said he, ‘‘ we must leave them to the mercy of Christ ; but it is
your business to assist them, encourage them, and instruct them ;
and if you give me leave, and God his blessing, I do not doubt
but the poor ignorant souls shall be brought home to the great
circle of Christianity, if not into the particular faith we all em-
brace, and that even while you stay here.’’ Upon this I said,
‘‘T shall not only give you leave, but’ give you_a thousand
thanks for it.”’ hat followed on this account, I shall men-
tion also again in its place.

I now pressed him for the third article in which we were to
blame. ‘* Why, really,’ says he, “‘it is of the same nature 5
and I will proceed, asking your leave, with the same _plainness
as before: it is about your poor savages, who are, as I may say,
your conquered subjects. It is a maxim, sir, that is, or ought
to be, received among all Christians, of what church or pretend-
ed church soever, viz. The Christian knowledge ought to be

ropagated by all possible means, and on all possible occasions.

t is on this principle that our church sends. missionaries into
Persia, India, and China; and that our clergy, even of the su-
perior sort, willingly engage in the most hazardous voyages,
and the most dangerous residence among murderers and barba-
rians, to teach them the knowledge of the true God, and to
bring them over to embrace the Christian faith. Now, sir,
you have such an opportunity here to have six or seven and
thirty poor savages brought over from idolatry to the knowl.
edge of God, their Maker and Redeemer, that I wonder how
you can pass such an occasion of doing good, which is really
worth the expense of a man’s whole life.”

i was now struck dumb, indeed, and had not one word to
say. I had here a spirit of true Christian zeal for God and
religion before me, let his particular: principles be of what
kind soever; as for me, I had not so much as entertained a
thought of this in my heart before, and I believe I should not
have thought of it; for I looked upon-these savages as slaves,
and people whom, had we had any work for them to do, we
would have used as such, or would have been glad to have
transported them to any other part of the world; for our
business was to get rid of them; and we would all have beenROBINSON CRUSOE. 313

watisfied if they had been sent to any country, so they had
never seen their own. But to the case:—I say, I was con
founded at his discourse, and knew not what answer to
make him.

He looked earnestly at me, seeing me in some disorder.
* Sir,” says he, ‘I shall be very sorry if what I have said
gives you any offence.””—‘ No, no,” said I, “I am offended
with nobody but myself; but I am perfectly confounded, not
only to think that I should never take any notice of this be-
fore, but with reflecting what notice I am able to take of it
now. You know, sir,” said I, “ what circumstances I am in;
{am bound to the East Indies in a ship freighted by mer-
chants, and to whom it would be an insufferable piece ef iui-
justice to detain their ship here, the men lying all this while
at victuals and wages on the owners’ account. It is true, L
agreed to be allowed twelve days here, and if I stay more, I
must pay three pounds sterling per dicm demur ; nor can
i stay upon demurrage above eight days more, and I have
been here thirteen already; so that I am perfectly unable te
engage in this work, unless I would suffer myself to be left
behind here again ; in which case, if this single ship should
miscarry in any part of her voyage, I should be just in the
game condition that I was left in here at first, and from which
[have been so wonderfully delivered.” He owned the case
was very hard upon me, as to my voyage; but laid it home
upon my conscience, whether the blessing of saving thirty
seven souls was not worth venturing all I had in the world for.
I was not so sensible of that as he was. IJ returned upon him
thus: ‘“ Why, sir, it is a valuable thing, indeed, to be an in-
strument in God’s hand to convert thirty-seven heathens to the
knowledge of Christ; but as you are an ecclesiastic, and are
given over to the work, so that it seems so naturally to fall
into the way of your profession, how is it, then, that you
do not rather offer yourself to undertake it, than press me
to do it?”

Upon this he faced about just before me, as he walked along,
and putting me to a full stop, made me avery low bow. “I
most heartily thank Goa and you, sir,” said he, “for giving
me so evident a call to so blessed a work; and if you ‘think
yourself discharged from it, and desire me to undertake it, I
will most readily do it, and think it a happy reward for all the
hazards and difficulties of such a broken, disappointed voyage
as I have met with, that I am dropped at last into so glorious
a work.” : t

I discovered a kind of rapture in his face while he spoke
this to me; his eyes sparkled like fire, his face glowed, and his
color came and went, as if he had been falling into fits; ina
word, he was fired with the joy of being embarked in such a
work. I paused a considerable while before I could tell what
to say to him; for I was really surprised to find a man of such

4ARRIGO NEE

814 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
sincerity and zeal, and carried out in his zeal beyond the or-
dinary rate of men, not of his profession only, but even of any
rofession whatsoever. But after | had considered it awhile,
asked him seriously if he was in earnest, and that he would
venture, on the single consideration of an attempt on those
oor people, to be locked up in-an unplanted island for per-
aps his life, and at last might not know whether he should be
able to do them good or not.

He turned short upon me, and asked me what I called a
venture. ‘‘ Pray, sir,” said he, ‘‘ what do you think [| con-
sented to go in your shipeto the East Indies for ?”—‘‘ Nay,”
said I, ‘‘ that I know not, unless it was to preach to the In.
dians.”—* Doubtless it was,” said he; ‘‘and do you think,
if I can convert these thirty-seven men to the faith of
Jesus Christ, it is not worth my time, though I should never
be fetched off the island again? nay, is it not infinitely of more
worth to save so many souls than my life is, or the life of
twenty more of the same profession? Yes, sir,’ says he, “I
would give Christ and the blessed Virgin thanks all my days,
if I could be made the least happ¥Y instrument of saving the
souls of those poor men, though | were never to set my foot
off this island, or see my native country any more. But since
you will honor me with putting me into this work, for which
I will pray for you all the days of my life, I have one humble
petition to you besides.” —‘‘ What is that?” said.“ Why,”
says he, ‘it is, that you will leave your man Friday with me,
to be my interpreter to them, and to assist me; for without
some help I cannot speak to them, or they to me.”

I was sensibly touched at his requesting Friday, because I
could not think of parting with him, and that for many rea-
sons: he had been the companion of my travels; he was not
only faithful to me, but sincerely affectionate to the last de-
gree; and I had resolved to do something considerable for him
if he outlived me, as it was probable he would. ‘Then I knew
that as I had bred Friday up to be a Protestant, it would quite
confound him to bring him to embrace another profession ;
and he would never, while his eyes were open, believe that his
old master was a heretic, and would be damned; and this
might, in the end, ruin the poor fellow’s principles, and_so
turn him back again to his first idolatry. However, a sudden
thought relieved me in this strait, and it was this: [ told him
I could not say that I was willing to part with Friday on any
account whatever, though a work that to him was of more

value than his life, ought to be to me of much more value than
the keeping or parting with a servant. But, on the other
hand, I was persuaded that Friday would by no means agree
to part with me; and I could not force him to it without his
consent, without manifest injustice; because I had promised
[ would never put him away, and hevhad promised and en-ROBINSON CRUSOR. 315

gaged to me that he would never leave me unless [ put him
away.

He seemed very much concerned at it, for he had no rational
access to these poor people, seeing he did not understand one
word of their language, nor they one word of his. To remove
this difficulty, I told him Friday’s father had learned Spanish,
which [ found he also understood, and he should serye him as
an interpreter. So he was much better satisfied, and nothing
could persuade him but he would stay and endeavor to convert
them; but Providence gave another very happy turn to all this.

I come back now to the first part of his objections. When
we came to the Englishmen, I sent for them all altogether, and
after some account given them of what I had done for them,
viz. what necessary things I had provided for them, and how
they were distributed, which they were very sensible of, and
very thankful for, I began to talk to them of the scandalous
life they led, and gave them a full account of the notice the
clergyman had taken of it; and arguing how unchristian and
irreligious a life it was, I first asked them if they were married
men or bachelors. 'They soon explained their conditions to
me, and showed that two of them were widowers, and the other
three were single men, or bachelors. 1 asked them with what
conscience they could take those women, and lie with them as
they had done, call them their wives, and have so many chil-
dren by them, and not be lawfully married to them.

They all gave me the answer I expected, viz. that there was
nobody to marry them; that they agreed before the governor
to keep them as their wives, and to maintain them and own
them as their -wives; and they thought, as things stood with
them, they were as legally married as if they had been married
by a parson, and with all the formalities in the world. °

I told them that no doubt they were. married in the sight
of God, and were bound in conscience to keep them as their
wives ; but that the laws of men being otherwise, they might
desert the poor women and children hereafter ; and that their
wives, being voor, desolate women, friendless and moneyless,
would have no way to help themselves: I therefore told them
that unless I was assured of their honest intent, | could do noth-
ing for them, but would take care that what I did should be
for the women and children without them ; and that unless they
would give me some assurances that they would marry the
women, I could not think it was convenient they should con-
tinue together as man and wife ; for thatit was both scandalous
to men and offensive to God, who they could not think would
bless them if they went on thus.

All this went on as I expected ; and they told me, especially
Will Atkins, who now seemed to speak for the rest, that they
loved their wives as well as if they had been born in their ownmh

PAO ee cee

PRI ON

RAR A LSMED ES OTD

$16 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

    
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
  

native country, and would not leave them upon any account
whatever ; and they did verily believe their wives were as virtu-
ous and as modest, and did, to the utmost of their skill, as much
for them and for their children, as any women could possibly
do; and they would not part with them on any account; and
Will Atkins, for his own particular, added, that if any man
would take him away, and offer to carry him home to England,
and make him captain of the best man-of-war in the navy, he
would not go with him, if he might not carry his wife and
children with him; and if there was a clergyman in the ship,
he would be married to her now with all ‘his heart.

This was just as I would have it; the priest was.not with me
at that moment, but was not far off; so, to try him further, I
told him I had a clergyman with me, and if he was sincere, {
would have him married next morning, and bade him consider
of it, and talk with the rest. He said. as for himself, he need not
consider of it at all, for he was very ready to do it, and was
glad I had a minister with me; and he believed they would be
all willing also. I then told him that my friend, the minis-
ter, was a Frenchman, and could not speak English, but
would act the clerk between them. He never so much as
asked me whether he was a Papist or Protestant, which was
indeed what I was afraid of; so we parted: I went back to my
clergyman, and Will Atkins went in to talk with his compan-
ions. 1 desired the French gentleman not to say any thing to
‘hem till the business was thorough ripe; and I told him what
answer the men had given me.

Before I went from their quarter, they all came to me, and
told me they had been considering what I had said; that they
were glad to hear I had a clergyman in my company, and they
were very willing to give me the satisfaction I desired, and to
be formally married as soon as I pleased; for they were far
from desiring to part with their wives, and that they meant
nothing but what was very honest when they chose them. So
1 appointed them to meet me the next morning; and, in the
mean time, they should let their .wives know the meaning of
the marriage-law ; and that it was not only to prevent any scan-
dal, but also to oblige them that they should not forsake them,
whatever might happen.

The women were easily made sensible of the meaning of the
thing, and were very well satisfied with it, as indeed they had
reason to be: so they failed not to attend all together at my
apartment next morning, where I brought out my clergyman ;
and though he had not on a minister’s gown, after the manner of
England, or the habit of a priest, after the manner of France,
yet having a black vest, something like a cassock, with a sash
round it, he did not look very unlike a minister ; and as for his
language, [ was his interpreter. But the seriousness of his
behavior to them, and the scruples he made of marrving theROBINSON CRUSOE. ol”

women, because they were not baptized and professed Chris-
tlans, gave them an exceeding reverence for his person; and
there was no need, after that, to inquire whether he was a
clergyman or not. Indeed, I was ati his scruples would
have been carried so far, as that he would not have married
them at all; nay, notwithstanding all J was able to say to him,
he resisted me, though modestly, yet very steadily ; and at last
refused absolutely to marry them, unless he had first talked
with the men and the women too; and though at first I was a
little backward to it, yet at last I agreed to it with a good will,
perceiving the sincerity of his design.

When he came to them, he let them know that I had ac-
quainted nim with their circumstances, and with the presen
design ; that he was very willing to perform that part of his
function, and marry them, as I had desired; but that before
he could do it, he must take the liberty to talk with them.
He told them, that in the sight of all indifferent men, and in
the sense of the laws of society, they had lived all this while
in open fornication; and that it was true, that nothing but the
consenting to marry, or effectually separating them from one
another, could now put an end to it; but there was a difficulty
in it too, with respect to the laws of Christian matrimony,
which he was not fully satisfied about, viz. that of marrying
one that is a professed Christian to a savage, an idolater, and
a heathen, one that is not baptized; and yet that he did not
see that there was time left to endeavor to persuade the
women to be baptized, or to profess the name. of Christ, whom
they had, he doubted, heard nothing of, and without which
they could not be baptized. He told them he doubted they
were but indifferent Christians themselves; that they had but
little knowledge of God or of his ways, and therefore he could
not expect that they had said much to their wives on that head
yet; but that unless they would promise him to use their en-
deavors with their wives to persuade them to become Chris-
tians, and would, as well as they could, instruct them in the
knowledge and belief of God that made them, and to worship
Jesus Christ that redeemed them, he could not marry them;
for he would have no hand in joining Christians with savages ;
nor was it consistent with the principles of the Christian re-
ligion; and was indeed expressly forbidden in God’s law.

They heard all this very attentively, and I delivered it very
faithfully to them from his mouth, as near his own words as 1
could; only sometimes adding something of my own, to con-
vince them how just it was, and how I was of his mind; and
I always very faithfully distinguished between what I said
from myself, and what.were the clergyman’s words. They told
me it was very true what the gentleman said, that they were
very indifferent Christians themselves, and that they had never
talked to their wives about religion. “ Lord gir,” says Willmet AIRMEN

in.
ITI ABA ROE C

er
SPER eames: ©

818 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

Atkins, ‘‘ how should we teach them religion ? Why, we know
nothing ourselves ; and besides, sir,” said hey should we talk
to them of God and Jesus Christ, and heaven and hell, it would
make them laugh at us, and ask us what we believe ourselves
And if we should tell them that we believe all the things we
speak of to them, such as of good people going to heaven, and
wicked people to the de vil, they would ask us where we intent
to go ourselves, that believe all this, and are such wicked fel
lows as we indeed are. Why, sir, "tis enough to give thema
surfeit of religion at first hearing ; : folks must have some re-
higion themselves before they pretend to teach other people.
—‘* Will Atkins,” said I to him, ‘“‘ though I am afraid that w hat
you say has too much truth in it, yet can you not tell your
wife she is in the wrong; that there is a God, and a religion
better than her own; that her gods are idols : that they can
neither hear nor speak ; that there is a great Being that made
all things, and that can destroy all that ‘he has made : that he
rewards the good and punishes the bad; and that we are to be
judged by him at last for all we do here? You are not so ig-
ane but even nature itself will teach vou that all this is
true; and I am satisfied you know it all to be true, and be-
lieve it yourself.’— That is true, sir,” said Atkins: “but
with what face can [ say any thing to my wife of all this,
when she will tell me immediately it cannot be true ?”—* Not
true!” said I; ‘‘ what do you mean by that?”’—‘* Why, sir,’
said he, “ she will’ tell me it cannot be true that this God a
shall tell her of can be just, or can punish or reward, since |
am not punished and sent to the devil, that have been such a
wicked creature as she knows I have been, even to her, and
to every body else; and that I should be suffered to live, that
have been always ‘acting so contrary to what I must tell her
is good, and to what I ought to have done.’”’—‘‘ Why, truly,
Atkins,” said [, “I am afraid thou speakest too much truth;
and with that I informed the clergyman of what Atkins had
said, for he was impatient to know. “ O,” said the priest,
“tell him there is one thing will make him the best minister
in the world to his wife, and that is repentance; for none
teach repentance like true penitents. He wants nothing | biit
to repent, and then he will be so much the better qualified to
instruct his wife: he will then be able to tell her that there is
not only a God, and that he is the just rewarder of good and
evil, but that he is a merciful Being, and with infinite good-
ness and long-suffering forbears to punish those that offend;
waiting to be gracious, and willing not the death of a sinner,
but rather that he should return and live; that oftentimes he
suffers wicked men to go a long time, and even reserves dam-
nation to the general day of retribution ; that it is a clear evi-
dence of God and of a future state, that righteous men receive
not their reward, or wicked men their punishment, till thevROBINSON CRUSOE. 319

eome into another world; and this will lead him to teach his
wife the doctrine of the resurrection and of the last judgment.
Let him but repent for himself, he will be an excellent preach-
er of repentance to his wife.”

I repeated all this to Atkins, who looked very serious all the
while, and who, we could easily per ‘e, Was more than ordi-
nary. affected with it: when being eager, and hardly suffering
me to make an end—“‘ I know all this, master,’’ says he, ‘‘ and
a great deal more; but I have not the impudence to talk thus
to my wife, when God and my conscience know, and my wife
will be an undeniable evidence against me, that J have lived
as if I had never heard of a God or future state, or any thing
about it; and to talk of my repenting, alas! (and with that he
fetched a deep sigh, and 1 could see that the tears stood in his
eyes,) ’tis past all that with me.” —‘‘ Past it, Atkins?’ said I;
‘* what dost thou mean by that ?”—‘‘ [ know well enough what
I mean,”’ says he; ‘‘I mean ’tis too late, and that 1s too true.”

I told the clergyman, word for word, what he said: the poor
zealous priest,—I] must call him so, for, be his opinion what it
will, he had certainly a most singular affection for the good of
other men’s souls, and. it would be hard to think he had not the
like for his own,—I say, this affectionate man could not refrain
from tears ; but, recovering himself, said to me, ‘‘ Ask him but
one question—Is he easy that it is too late; or is he troubled,
and wishes it were not so?’ I put the question fairly to Atkins,
and he answered, with a great deal of passion, ‘‘ How could
any man be easy in a condition that must certainly end in
eternal destruction ? that he was far from being easy ; but that,
on the contrary, he believed it would, one time or other, ruin
him.’’—‘* What do you mean by that?’ saidI. ‘‘ Why,” he
said, ‘‘ he believed he should one time or other cut his throat,
.o put an end to the terror of it.”’ Live

Phe clergyman shook his head, with great concern in his
face, when | told him all this; but turning quick to me upon it,
says, “If that be his case, we may assure him it is not too late ;
Christ will give him repentance. But pray,” says he, ‘* ex-
plain this to him; that as no man 1s saved but by Christ, and

-the merit of his passion procuring divine mercy for him, how
can it be too late for any man to receive mercy? Does he think
he is able to sin beyond the power or reach of divine mercy ?
Pray tell him, there may be a time when provoked mercy will
no longer strive, and when God may refuse to hear, but that it
is never too late for men to ask mercy ; and we, that are Christ’s
servants, are commanded to preach mercy at all times, in the
name of Jesus Christ, to all those that sincerely repent; so
that it is never too late to repent.”’

I told Atkins all this, and he heard me with great eariest-
ness; but it seemed as if he turned off the discourse to the rest,
for he said to me, he would go and have some talk with his
wife ; so he went out a while, and we talked to the rest. I per-ERT RETR SRM Ce Tae

820 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ceived they were all stupidly ignorant as to matters of religion,
as much as I was when { went rambling away from my father 3 :
and yet there were none of them backwar d to hear what had
been said ; and all of them seriously promised that they -would
talk with their wives about it, and do their endeavors to per-
suade them to turn Christians.

The clergyman smiled upon me when I reported what answer
they gave, but said nothing a good while ; but at Jast shaking his
head, ‘“‘ We that are Christ’s servants, 7 says he, ‘‘can go no
farther than to exhort and instruct ; and when men comply,
submit to the reproof, and Prpnsee what we ask, ’tis all we can
do; we are bound to accept their good words; but, believe me,
sir,” said he, “‘ whatever you may have known of the life of
that man you call Will Atkins, I believe he is the only sincere
convert among them: | take that man to be a true penitent: I
will not despair of the rest; but that man is apparently struck
with the sense of his past h life , and I doubt not, when he comes
to talk of religion to his wife, he will talk himself effectually
into it; for attempting to teach others is sometimes the best
way of teaching ourselves. [I know a man, who, having noth-
ing but a summary notion of religion himself, and being wicked
and profligate to the last degree in his life, made a thorough
reformation in himself by laboring to convert a Jew. If that
poor Atkins maar but once to talk seriously of Jesus Christ
to his wife, my life for it, he talks himself into a thorough
convert, Rakes himself a penitent, afid who knows what may
follow 1”

Upon this discourse, however, and their promising, as above,
to anceyor to persuade their wives to embrace Christianity,
he married the other two couple; but Will Atkins and his wife
were not yet come in. After this, my clergyman, waiting
awhile, was curious to know where Atkins was gone; ‘and turn=
ing to me, said, ‘I entreat you, sir, let us walk out of your
laby rinth ‘here, and look; I dare say. we shall find this poor man
somewhere or other talking seriously to his wife, and teaching
her already something of religion.” I began to be of the same
mind ; so we went out together, and | carried him a way which
none knew but myself, and where the trees were so very t hicks
that it was not easy to see through the thicket of leaves, and
far harder to see in than to see out: when coming to the edge
of the wood, I saw Atkins and his taw ny wife sitting under the
shade of a bush, very eager in discourse: I stopped short till
my clergyman came up to me, and then having showed him
where they were, we stood and looked very steadily at them a
good while. We observed him very earnest with her, pointing
up to the sun, and to every quarter of the heavens, and then
down to the earth, then out to the sea, then to himself, then to
her, to the woods, to the trees. “ Now,” says the clergyman,
** you see my words are made gaod ; the man preaches to her 5ROBINSON CRUSOE. 321

mark him now; he is telling her that our God has made him
and her, and the heavens, the earth, the sea, the woods, the
trees, &uc.’’—‘‘ I believe he is,’’ said I. Immediately we per-
ceived Will Atkins start upon. his feet, fall down on his knees,
and lift up both his hands. We supposed he said something,
but we could not hear him; it was too far for that. He did not
continue kneeling~ half a-minute, but comes and sits down
again by his wife, and talks to her again; we perceived then
the woman very attentive, but whether she said any thing to
him we could not tell. While the poor fellow was upon his
knees, 1 could see the tears run plentifully down my clergy-
man’s cheeks, and I could hardly forbear myself; but it was a
great affliction to us both that we were not near enough to hear
any thing that passed between them. Well, however, we could
come no nearer for fear of disturbing them; so we resolved to
see an end of this piece of still conversation, and it spoke loud
enough to us without the help of voice. He sat down again,
as I have’said, close by her, and talked again earnestly to her,
and two or three times we could see him embrace her most
passionately ; another time we saw him take out his handker-
chief and wipe her eyes, and then kiss her again, with a kind
of transport very unusual; and after several of these things we
saw him on a sudden jump up again, and lend her his hand to
help her up, when immediately leading her by the hand a step
or two, they both kneeled down together, and continued so
about two minutes. .

My friend could bear it no longer, but cries out aloud,
“St Paul! St. Paul! behold he prayeth.” I was afraid
Atkins would hear him; therefore I entreated him to withhold
himself awhile, that we might see an end of the scene, which
to me, | must confess, was the most affecting that ever Ts
in my life. Well, he strove with himself for a while, but was
in such raptures to think that the poor heathen woman was
become a Christian, that he was not able.to contain himself;
he wept several times, then throwing up his hands and cross-
ing his breast, said over several things ejaculatory, and by
way of giving God thanks for so miraculous a testimony of the
success of our endeavors; some he spoke softly, and I coula
not well hear others; some in Latin, some. in rench ; then
_wo or three times the tears would interrupt him, that he could
not speak at all; but I begged that he would contain himself,
and let us more narrowly and fully observe what was before
4s, which he did for atime, the scene not being near ended
yet; for after the poor man and his wife were risen again from
their knees, we observed he stood talking still eagerly to her,
and we observed her motion, that she was greatly affected with
what he said, by her frequently lifting up her hands, laying
her hand to her breast, and such other postures as express the
greatest seriousness and attention: this continued about halfwe
REAR DEMS RoneRM ER Hn

SENNA AOR IIE EIR LET BRE

ROBINSON CRUSO®.

 

a quarter of an hour, and then they walked away; so we could
see no more of them in that situation. I took this interval to
talk with my clergyman; and first, | was glad to see the par-
ticulars we had both been witnesses to, that though I was
hard enough of belief in such cases, yet that I began to think
it was all very sincere here, both in the man and his wile,
however ignorant they might both be, and I hoped such a be-
sinning would yet have a more happy end: ‘‘ And. who
knows,” said J, ‘‘ but these two may in time, by instruction
and example, work upon some of the others? ’’—‘‘ Some of
them?” said he, turnmg quick upon me: “‘ay, upon all of
them: depend upon it, if those two savages—for he has been
but little better, as you relate it—should embrace Jesus Christ,
they will never leave it till they work upon all the rest; for
true religion is naturally communicative, and he that is once
made a Christian will never leave a pagan behind him, if he
can help it.” I owned it was a most Christian principle to
think so, and a testimony of true zeal, as well as a generous
heart, in him. ‘‘ But, my friend,” said I, ‘“‘ will you give me
leave to start one difficulty here? I cannot tell how to object
the least thing against that affectionate concern which you
show for the turning the poor people from their paganism to
the Christian religion; but how does this comfort you, while
these people are, in your account, out of the pale of the Catholic
church, without which you believe there is no salvation? soROBINSON CRUSOE. 393

that you esteem these but heretics, for other reasons as effect-
ually lost as the pagans themselves.”
d To this he answered, with abundance of candor, thus:—
‘Sir, [ am a Catholic of the Roman church, and a priest of
the order ef St. Benedict, and I embrace all the principles ot
the Roman faith; but yet, if you will believe me, and that I
do not speak in compliment to you, or in respect to my cir=
cumstances and your civilities; I say, nevertheless, 1 do not
look upon you, who call yourselves reformed, without some
charity ; I dare not. say (though I know it is our opinion in
general) that you cannot be saved; I will by no means limit
the mercy of Christ so far as to think that he cannot receive
you inte the bosom of his church in a manner to us unper-
ceivable; and I hope you have the same charity for us; { pray
daily for your being all restored to Christ’s church, by whatso-
ever method he, who is all-w is pleased to direct. In the
mean time, sure you will allow it consists with me, as a Roman,
to distinguish far between a Protestant and a pagan ; between
one that calls on Jesus Christ, though in a way which I do
not think is according to thé -true faith, and_a savage, or a
barbarian, that knows no God, no Christ, no Redeemer; and
if you are not within the pale of the Catholic church, we hope
you are nearer being restored to it than those that know noth-
ing of God or of his church; and I rejoice, therefore, when I
see this poor man, who, you say, has been a profligate, and
almost a murderer, kneel down and pray to Jesus Christ, as
we suppose he did, though not fully enlightened ; believing
that God, from whom every such work proceeds, will sensibly
¢ouch his heart, and bring him to the further knowledge of
that truth in his own time; and if God shail influence this
poor man to convert and instruct the ignorant savage, his
wife, I can never believe that he shall be cast away himselt.
And have I not reason then to rejoice the nearer any are
brought to the knowledge of Christ, though they may not be
brought quite home into the bosom of the Catholic. church
just at the time when I may desire it, leaving 3t to the good-
ness of Christ to perfect his work in his own time, and in his
own way? Certainly, I would rejoice if all the savages in
America were brought, like this poor woman, to pray to
God, though they . were all to be Protestants at first, rather
tnan they should continue pagans or heathens ; firmly believ-
ing, that he that had bestowed the first light to them woul
farther illuminate them with a beam of his heavenly grace,
and bring them into the pale of his church, when he should
see good.”’ ‘ 5

I was astonished at the sincerity and temper of this pious
Papist, as much as I was oppressed by the power of his rea-
soning ; and it presently occurred to my thoughts, that if such
a temper was universal, we might be all catholic Christians,Q4 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

whatever church or particular profession we jomed in; that a

spirit of charity would soon work us all up_ into right princi-
i ples; and as he thought that the hke charity would make us all
a Catholics, so I told him I believed, had al! the members of his
4 church the like moder ation, they would soon all be Protest-
Aud there we left that part; for we never disputed

      

at all.
However, I talked to him another way, and taking him by
the hand, “ My friend,” says I, “I wish all the clergy of the
Romish church were blessed with such moder: ation, and had
an equal share of your charity. fam entirely of your opinion ;
but I must tell you, that if you should preach such doc trine
in Spain or Ttal ly, they would put you into the inqu isttion,’
4 “Tt may be so,” said he; ‘I know not what they would do in
| Spain or Italy; but I will not say they would be the better
Christians for that severity ; for 1 am sure there is no heresy
in abounding. with charity.”
Well, as Will Atkins and his wife were gone, our business
there was over; so we went back our own way; and when we
i td came back, we ’ found them waiting to be called j in: observing
E \ this, I asked my clergyman if we ‘Should disc over to him that
we had seen him under the bush or not; and it was his opinion
we should not, but that we should talk to him first, and hear
what he would say to us; so we called him in alone, nobody
being in the place but ourselves, and I began with | him thus -—
“Will Atkins,” said I,‘ prithee what education had you?
What was your father?”
W. A. A better man than ever I shall be; sir, my father
was a clergyman.
KC. What education did he give you?
W. A. He would have taught me well, sir; but I despised
i all education, instruction, or ¢ correction, like a beast as { was.
a : i It 1s true, Solomon says, ‘‘ He that despiseth reproof
ts brutish.”
He . W. A. Ay, sir, I was brutish, indeed, for [ murdered my

i father : for God’s sake, sir, talk no more about that; sir,

f murdered my poor father.

i Pr. Ha! a murderer!

i] Here the priest started (for | interpreted every word as he

ape »ke) and looked pale: it seems he believed that Will had
eally killed his father.

a C. No, no, sir, I do not understand him so; Will At
kins, explain yourself; you did not kill your father, did you,
with your own hands?

W. A. No, sir, I did not cut his throat; but i cut the
thread of all his comforts, and shortened his di iys: 1 broke his
heart by the most ungrateful, unnatural return for the most
ea |g tender and affectionate treatment that ever father gave, Or
ay { child could receive. .

A. C. Well, Idid not ask you about your father to extort this

 

pen IPROMR Sal

—
ER Ren om Go

™

me
SRR Se ETTROBINSON CRUSOE. 825
confession: [ pray God give you repentance for it, and for-
give that and all your other sins; but I asked you because I
see that though you have not much lea ining, yet you are not
so ignorant as some are in things that are good; that you
have known more of religi a great deal, than you have
practised. :

W. A. Though you, sir, did not extort the confession that

I make about my father, conscience does; and whenever we
come to look back upon our lives, the sins against our indul-
gent parents are certainly the first that touch u ; the wounds
they make-He dee epest, and the weight they leave will lie heav-
jest upon ine. mind, of all the sins we can commit.

R. C. You talk too feelingly and sensibly for me, Atkins ;
I cannot bear it.

: VY. A. You bear it, master! [I dare say you know nothing
0 e

2

©: Yes, Atkins; every shore, every hill, nay, I may say
ee tree in this island, is witness to the angu S : ‘of my soul
for my ingratitude and bad usage of a good, tender father; a
father much like yours, by your desc ription : and I murdered
my father as well as you, Will Atkins; but I think, for all that,
my repentance is short of yours too, by a great deal.

I would have said more, if I could have restrained my pas-
sions ; but I thought this poor man’s repentance was so ‘much
sincerer than mine, that { was going to leave off the discourse
and retire;.for I was surpris .d- with what he had said, and
thought t that instead of my going about to teach and instruct
hin, “the man was made a teacher and instructor to me ina
niost surprising and unexpected manner.

I laid all this before the young clergyman, who was greatly
affected with it, and said to me, “Did I not s y, sir, that
when this man was converted, he ‘would preach to us all? I
tell you, sir, if this one man be made a true pe nitent, here
will he no need of me; he will make Christians of all in the
island.”’—But having a little compose d my self, . renewed
my discourse with Will Atkins. «B Sut, Will,” said I, ‘how
ee the sense of this matter to touch you just now >

V. A. Sir, you have set me about a work that has struck
a ae, through my very soul; I have been talking about God
and religion to my wife, in order, as you di rected me, to make
a Christian of her, and she has preached such a sermon to me
as I shall never forget while [ live.

AEE. No, no, it is not your wife has preached to you; but
when you were moving religious argu ments to. her, conscience

has flung them back upon you. :
W. A. Ay, sir, with me orce as-is not to be resistec

R. C. Pray, Wi ll, let iow what passed tween you

ae a our wife : for I eat ‘something ef
A, Sir, it is impossible to give you a full ac count of it;SOE RR EER NE IIT

Phy topes lt

pete a MPM Ge? HE Da AOS

SERRATE RAI AIT wn om

826 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

I am too full to hold it, and yet have no tongue to express ity
but let her have said what she will, and though I cannot give
you an account of it, this I can tell you, that I have resolved
to amend and reform my life.

R. C. But tell us some of it; how did you begin, Will?
for this has been an extraordinary case, that is certain. She
has preached a sermon, indeed, if she has wrought this
upon you.

W. A. Why, I first told her the nature of our laws about
marriage, and what the reasons were that men and women
were obliged to enter into such compacts, as it was neither in
the power of one nor other to break; that otherwise, order and
justice could not be maintained, and men would run from their
wives, and abandon their children, mix confusedly with one
another, and neither families be kept entire, nor inheritances
be settled by legal descent.

R. @. You talk like a civilian, Will. Could you make her
understand what you meant by inheritance and families ?
They know no such things among the savages, but marry any
how, without regard to relation, consanguinity, or family ;
brother and sister, nay, as I have been told, even the father
and the daughter, and the son and the mother.

W. A. I believe, sir, you are misinformed, and my wife
assures me of the contrary, and that they abhor it; perhaps,
for any further relations, they may not be so exact as we are ;
but she tells me they never touch one another in the near re-
lationship you speak of.

R. C. Well, what did she say to what you told her ?

W. A. She said she liked it very well, and it was much
better than in her country.

R. C. But did you tell her what marriage was?

W. A. Ay, ay; there began our dialogue. | asked her if
she would be married to me our way. She asked me what
way that was. I told her marriage was appointed by God;
and here we had a strange talk together, indeed, as ever man
and wife had, I believe.

N. B. This dialogue between Will Atkins and his wife |
took down in writing, just after he had told it me, which was
as follows :—

Wife. Appointed by your God! Why, have youa God in
your country ?

W. A. Yes, my dear, God is in every country.

Wife. No your God in my country; my country have the
great old Benamuckee God.

W. A. Child, I am very unfit to show you who God is;
God is in heaven, and made the heaven and the earth, the sea,
and all that in them is.

Wife. No makee de earth; no you God makee all earth;
no makee my countryROBINSON CRUSOR. SOF

Will Atkins laughed a little at her expression of God not
making her country.

Wife. No laugh; why laugh me? This nothing to laugh.

He was justly reproved by his wife, for she was more serious
than he at first.

W. A. That’s true, indeed; I will not laugh any more,
my dear.

Wife. Why, you say you God makee all?

W. A. Yes, child, our God made the whole world, and you
and me, and all things; for he is the only true God, and there
is no God but him; he lives forever in heaven.

Wife. Why you no tell me long ago?

W. A. That’s true indeed: but I have been a wicked
wretch, and have not only forgotten to acquaint thee with any
thing before, but have lived without God in the world myself.

Wife. What, have you a great God in your country, you
no know him? No say O to him? No do good thing for him 2
That no possible ?

W. A. It is true; though, for all that, we live as if there
was no God in heaven, or that he had no power on earth.

Wife. But why God let you do so?’ Why he no makee you
good live?

VW. A. It is all our own fault.

Wife. But you say me he is great, much great, have much
great power, can makee kill when he will, why he uo makee
kill when you no serve him? No say O to him, no be good
mans.

W. A. That is true, he might strike me dead ; and I ought
to expect it, for I have been a wicked wretch, that is true; but
God is merciful, and does not deal with us as we deserve.

Wife. But then do you not tell God thankee for that too?

W. A. No, indeed, I have not thanked God for his mercy,
any more than I have feared God for his power. ;

Wife. Then you God no God; me no think believe he be
such one, great much power, strong: no makee kill you, though
you make iis much angry. CO ao

W. A. What, will my wicked life hinder you from believing
in God? What a dreadful creature am I! and what a sad truth
is it, that the horrid lives of Christians hinder the conversion
of heathens!

Wife. How me think you have great much God up there
(she points up to heaven), and yet no do well, no do good thing ?
Can he tell? Sure he no tell what you do? —

W. A. Yes, yes, he knows and sees all things; he hears us
speak, sees what we do, knows what we think, though we do
not speak.

Wife. What! he no hear you curse, swear, speak de great
damn? ;

W. A. Yes, yes, he hears it all.

Wife. Where be then the much great power strong ?ONIN NTR SNR LE EMER fe? I ERT

fe

2 PMR

Tl coset Sin ch

    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   

328 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

W. A. He is merciful, that is all we can say for it; and this
proves him to be the true God ; he is God, and not man, and
therefore we are not consumed.

Here Will Atkins told us he was struck with horror, to think
how he could tell his wife so clearly that God sees, and hears,
and knows the secret thoughts of the heart, and all that we do,
and yet taat he had dared to do all the vile things he had done.

Wife. Merciful! What you call that ?

W. A. He is our Father and Maker, and he pities and
spares us.

Wife. So then he never makee kill, never angry when you
do wicked ; then he no good himself, or no great able.

W. A. Yes, yes, my dear, he is infinitely good and infinitely
great, and able to punish too; and sometimes, to show his jus-
tice and’ vengeance, he lets fly his anger to destroy sinners and
make examples ; many are cut off in their sins.

Wife. But no makee kill you yet; then he tell you, may be,
that he no makee you kill; so you makee de bargain with him,
you do bad thing, he no be angry at you when he be angry at
other mans.

W. A. No, indeed; my sins are all presumptions upon his
goodness ; and he would be infinitely just if he destroyed me,
as he has done other men.

Wife. Well, and yet no kill, no makee you dead; what
you say to him for that? You no tell him thankee for all
that too?

W. A. I am an unthankful, ungrateful dog, that is true.

Wife. Why he no makee you much good better? you say
he makee you.

W. A. He made me, as he made all the world; it is I have
deformed myself and abused his goodness, and made myself an
abominable wretch. =

Wife. I wish you makee God know me; I no makee him
angry, I no do bad wicked thing.

Here Will Atkins said his heart sunk within him, to hear a

oor untaught creature desire to be taught to know God, and
Bs such a wicked wretch that he could not say‘one word to her
about God; but what the reproach of his own carriage would
make most irrational to her to believe; nay, that already she
had told him that she could not believe in God, because he,
that was so wicked, was not destroyed.

W. A. My dear, you mean, you wish I could teach you to
know God, not God to know you; for he knows you already,
and every thought in your heart.

Wife. Why then he know what I say to you now; he know
me wish to know him; how shall me know who makee me!?

W. A. Poor creature, he must teach thee, I cannot teach
thee; I will pray to him to teach thee to know him, and for-
give me, that am unworthy to teach thee.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 329

The poor fellow was in such an¢ agony at her desiring him to

make her know Ged, and her wishing to know him, that he
said he fell down on his knees before her, and prayed to God

to enlighten her mind with the saving knowledge of Jesus
Christ, anid to pardon his sins, and accept of his being the un-
worthy instrument of instructing her in the principles of reli-
gion; ‘after which he sat down by her again, and their dialogue
went on.—T his was the time when we saw him kneel down,
and h ld up his hands.

. What you put down the knee for? What you hold
up the ee for’? What you say? Who youspeak to? What is
all that ?

W. A. My dear, I bow my knees in token of my submission
to him that made me; I said O to him, as you call it, and as
your old men do to their idol Benamuckee; that is, I prayed
to him.

Wife. What you say O to him for?

W. A. I prayed to him to open your eyes and your un-
derstanding, that you may know him, and be accepted by him.

Wife. Can he do that too ?

/ Yes, he can; he can do all things

Wife . But now he hear what you say?

W. A. Yes; he has bid us pray to him, and promised to
hear us

Bid you pray ? When he bid you? How he bid you ?
What, you hear him speak ?

W. A. No, we do not hear him speak ; but he has revealed
himself many ways to us.

Here he was at a great loss to
has revealed himself:to us by hi
but at last he told it her thus:

W. A. God has pues to some good men in former days,
even from heaven, by plain words; and God has inspired
good men by his Spirit; and they have written all his laws
down in a book.

Wife. Me no understand that; where is book?

W. A. Alas! my poor creature, I te not this book ; but
1 hope | shall one {ime or other get it for you, and help you
to read it.

Here he embraced her with great affection, but with inex:
pressible grief that he had not a ple. 4

Wife. But how you makee me know that God teachee them
to write that book ?

4. By the same rule that we know him to be God.

we VV hat rule ? What way you know him ?

W. Because he teaches and commands nothing but what
is obi rig s, and holy, and tends te make us perfectly
good, as well as p erfectly happy ; and because he forbids, and
commands us to avoid all that is wicked, that is evil in itself,

or evil in its consequence.

o make her understand that God
s word, and ihae ie word was 3ARES eater nD Y

aR IRE: PR EOR

si ete in A

SRLS RY ITT LERNER HN ST ELITES

330 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

Wife. That me would understand, that me fain see; if he
teackee all good thing, he makee all good thing, he give all
thing, he hear me when I say O to him, as you do just now;
he makee me good, if I wish to be good; he spare me, no
makee kill me, when I no be good; all this you say he do, yet
he be great God; me take, think, believe him to be great God ;
me say O to him with you, my dear.

Here the poor man could forbear no longer, but raised her
up, made her kneel by him, and he prayed to God aloud to
instruct her in the knowledge of himself, by his Spirit; and
that by some good providence, if possible, she might some
time or other come to have a Bible, that she might read the
word of God, and be taught by it to know him.—This was the
time that we saw him lift her up by the hand, and saw him
kneel down by her, as above.

They had several other discourses, it seems, after this, too
long to be set down here; and particularly she made him
promise that since he confessed his own life had been a wicked,
abominable course of provocations against God, that he would
reform it and not make God angry any more, lest he should
make him dead, as she called it, and then she would be left
alone, and never be taught to know this God better ; and lest
he should be miserable, ashe had told her wicked men would
be, after death

This was a strange account, and very affecting to us both,
but particularly to the young clergyman; he was indeed won-
derfully surprised with it, but under the greatest affliction im-
aginable that he could not talk to her, that he could not speak
English, to make her understand him; and as she spoke but
very broken English, he could not understand her ; however, he
turned himself to me, and told me that he believed that there
must be more to do with this woman than to marry her.
did not understand him at first, but at length he explain-
ed himself, viz. that she ought to be baptized. I agreed
with him in that part readily, and was for going about it pres-
ently. ‘No, no; hold, sir,” said he; “though I would have
her be baptized by all means, yet I must observe that Will
Atkins, her husband, has indeed brought her, in a wonderful
manner, to be willing to embrace a religious life, and has
given her just ideas of the being of a God, of his power, jus-
tice, and mercy; yet I desire to know of him if he has said
any thing to her of Jesus Christ, and of the salvation of sin-
ners; of the nature of faith in him, and redemption by him ;
of the Holy Spirit, the resurrection, the last judgment, and a
future state.”

I called Will Atkins again, and asked him; but the poor
fellow fell immediately into tears, and told us he had said
something to her of all those things, but that he was himself
so wicked a creature, and his own conscience so reproachedROBINSON CRUSOE. Sol

him with his horrid, ungodly life, that he trembled at the ap-
prehensions that her knowledge of him should lessen the at-
tention she should give to those things, and make her rather
contemn religion than receive it; but he was assured, he said,
that her mind was so disposed to receive due impressions of
all those things, and that if I would but discourse with her, she
would make it appear to my satisfaction that my labor would
not- be lost upon her.

Accordingly, I called her in, and placing myself as inter-
preter between my religious priest and the woman, I entreat-
ed him to begin with her.; but sure such a sermon was never
preached by a Popish priest in these latter ages of the vorld;
and, as | told him, { thought he had all the zeal, all the knowl-
edge, all the sincerity of a Christian, without the erior of a
Roman Catholic; and that I took him to be such a clergyman
as the Roman bishops were, before the church of Rome as-
sumed spiritual sovereignty over the consciences of men. In
a word, he brought the poor woman to embrace the knowledge
of Christ, and of redemption by him, not with wonder and as-
tonishment only, as she did the first notions of a God, but with
joy and faith; with an affection, and a surprising degree of
understanding, scarce to be imagined, much less to be ex-
pressed ; and, at her own request, she was baptized.

When he was preparing to baptize her, I entreated him
that he would perform that office with some caution, that the
man might not perceive he was of the Roman church, if pos-
sible, because of other ill consequences which might attend a

difference among us in that very religion which we were in-
structing the other in. He told me that as he had no
consecrated chapel, nor proper things for the office, |
should see he would do it in a manner that I should not know
by it that he was a Roman Catholic myself, if I had not known
it before; and so he did; for saying only some words over to
himself in Latin, which I could not understand, he poured a
whole dishfull of water upon the woman’s head, pronouncing
in French very loud, <‘ Mary (which was the name her hus-
band desired me to give her, for I was her godfather), I bap-
tize thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Ghost;” so that none could know any thing by it what
religion he was of. He gave the benediction afterwaras in
Latin, but either Will Atkins did not know but it was French,
or else did not take notice of it at that time.

As soon as this was over, we married them; and after the
marriage was over, he turned to Will Atkins, and in a very
affectionate manner exhorted him, not only to persevere in that
good disposition he was in, but to support the convictions that
were upon him by a resolution to reform his life ; told him it
was in vain to say he repented if he did not forsake his crimes:
represented to him how God had honored him with being thennd tee

ofa saree: De

SURG sae me Gat we De ie

LER MR SAS HI Theatres

SER ca RUSRE CaN MEE

302 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

instrument of bringing his wife to the knowledge of the Chris-
tian religion, and that he should be careful he did not dishonor
the grace of God; and that if he did, he would see the heathen
a better Christian than himself; the savage converted, and the
instrument cast away. He said a great many good things to
them both; and then recommending them to God’s goodness,
eave them the benediction again, I repeating every thing to
them in English; and thus ended the ceremony. I think it
vas the most pleasant and agreeable day to me that ever |
passed in my whole life.

But my clergyman had not done yet; his thoughts hung
continually upon the conversion of the thirty-seven savages,
and fain he would have staid upon the island to have undertaken
it; but I convinced him, first, that his undertaking was imprac-
ticable in itself; and, secondly, that perhaps I would put it into
a way of being done in his absence to his satisfaction ; of which
by and by.

Having thus brought the affairs of the island to a narrow
compass, 1 was preparing to go on board the ship, when the
young man I had taken out of the famished~ship’s company
came to me, and told me he understood I had. a clergyman
vith me, and that I had caused the Englishmen to be married
to the savages; that he had a match, too, which he desired
might be finished before I went, between two Christians, which
he hoped would not be disagreeable to me.

I knew this must be the young woman who was his mother’s
servant, for there was no other Christian woman on the island:
so I began to persuade him not to do any thing of that kind
rashly, or because he found himself in this solitary circum-
stance. I represented to him that he had some considerable
substance in the world, and good friends, as I understood by
himself, and’the maid. also; that the maid was not only poor,
and a servant, but was unequal to him, she. being six or seven
and twenty years old, and he not above seventeen or eighteen ;
that he might very probably, with my assistance, make a remove
from this wilderness, and come into his own country again;
and that then it would be a thousand to one but he would re-
pent his choice, and the dislike of that circumstance might be
disadvantageous to both. I was going to say more, but he in
terrupted me, smiling, and told me, with a great deal of mod-
esty, that | mistook in my guesses, that he had nothing of
that kind in his thoughts; and he was very glad to hear that 1
had an intent of putting them in a way to see their own coun-
try again; and nothing should have put him upon staying
there, but that the voyage I was going was so exceeding long
and hazardous, and would carry him quite out of the reach of
all his friends; that he had nothing to desire of me, but that I
would settle him in some little property in the island where
he was, give him a servant or two, and some few necessariesROBINSON CRUSOE. 333

and he would settle himself here like a planter, waiting the
good time when, if ever I returned to England, I would re-
deem them, and hoped I would not be unmindful of him when
I came to England; that he would give me some letters to his
friends in London, to let them know how good I had been to
him, and in what part of the world, and what circumstances I
had left him in; and he promised me that whenever I rec
ed him, the plantation, and all the improvements he had mac
upon it, let the value be what it would, should be wholly mine.
His discourse was very prettily delivered, considering his
‘youth, and was the more agreeable to me, because he told me
positively the match was not for himself. I gave him all pos-
sible assurances that if I lived to come safe to England, I would
deliver his letters, and do his business effectually ; and that he
might depend I should never forget the circumstances I had
left him in: but still 1 was impatient to know who was the
person to be married ; upon which he told me it was my Jack-
of-all-trades and his maid Susan. I was most agreeably sur-
prised when he named the match; for indeed I thought it
very suitable. The character of that man | have given al-
ready; and as for the maid, she was a very honest, modest,
sober, and religious young woman; had a very good share
of sense, was agreeable enough in her person, spoke very
handsomely,. and to the purpose, always with decency and
good manners, and nether too backward to speak, when
requisite, nor impertinently forward, when it was not her
business ; very handy and housewifely, and an excellent man-
ager; fit, indeed, to have been governess to the whole island,
and she knew very well how to behave in every respect.
The match being proposed in this manner, we married
them the same day; and as I was father at the altar, as I may
say, and gave her away, so I gave her a portion; for I ap-
pointed her and her husband a handsome, large space of
ground for their plantation; and, indeed, this match, and the
proposal the young gentleman made to give him a small prop-
erty in the island, put me upon parcelling it out amongst them,
that they might not ie! afterwards about their situation.

This sharing out the land to them [ left to Will Atkins, who
was now grown a sober, grave, managing fellow, perfectly re-
formed, exceedingly pious and religious, and, as far as | may
be allowed to speak positively in such a case, I verily believe

He divided things so justly, and so
that they only desired one
he whole, which I caused
led to them, setting out
vs plantation, and testi-

he was a true penitent.
much to every one’s satisfaction,
general writing under my hand for t
to be drawn up, and signed and sea
the bounds and situation of every mai
fying that I gave them thereby severally a right to the whole
possession and inheritance of the respective plantations or
farms, with their improvements, to them and their heirs, re-
serving all the rest of the island as my own property, and aTER RC aS RTE GEE MS * Es

    

KOBINSON CRUSOE.

 

334

certain rent for every particular plantation after eleven years,
if I, or any one from me, or in my name, came to demand it,
producing an attested copy of the same writing.

As to the government and laws among them, I told them I
was not capable of giving them better- rules than they were
able to give themselves; only 1 made them promise me to live
in love and good neighborhood with one another; and so lL
prepared to leave them.

One thing I must not omit, and that is, that being now
settled in a kind of commonwealth among themselves, and hay-
ing much business in-hand, it was but odd to have seven-and-
thirty Indians live in a nook of the island, independent, and
indeed, unemployed; for, excepting the providing themselves
food, which they had difficulty enough to do, sometimes they had
no manner of business or property to manage. I proposed,
therefore, to the governor Spaniard, that he should go to them,
with Friday’s father, and propose to them to remove, and either
plant for themselves, or take them into their several families as
servants, to be maintained for their labor, but without being ab-
solute slaves ; for [ would not admit them to make them slaves
by force, by any means; because they had their liberty given
them by capitulation, as it were articles of surrender, which
they ought not to break.

They most willingly embraced the proposal, and came all
very cheerful along with him; so we allotted them land and
plantations, which three or four accepted of, but all the rest
chose to be employed as servants in the several families we
had settled ; and thus my colony was in a manner settled as
follows :—The Spaniards possessed. my original habitation,
which was the capital city, and extended their plantations all
along the side of the brook, which made the creek that I have
so often described, as far as my bower; and as they increased
their culture, it went always eastward. The English lived in
the north-east part, where Will Atkins and his comrades be-
gan, and came on southward and south-west, towards the back
part of the Spaniards; and every plantation had a great ad-
dition of land to take in, if they found occasion, so that they
need not jostle one another for want of room. All the east
end of the island was left uninhabited, that if any of the sav-
ages should come on shore there only for their usual customary
barbarities, they might come and go; if they disturbed no-
body, nobody would disturb them; and no doubt but ‘they
were often ashore, and went away again, for I never heard
that the planters were ever attacked or disturbed any more.

At now came into my thoughts that I had hinted to my
friend the clergyman that the work of converting the savages
might perhaps be set on foot in his absence to his satisfaction,
und told him that now I thought it was put in a fair way; for
the savages being thus divided among the Christians, if theyROBINSON CRUSOE. 335

would but every one of them do their part with those which
came under their hands, I hoped it might have a very good
effect.

*He agreed presently in that, if they did their part. “But
hoWw,” says he, ‘shall we obtain that of them?” TI told him
we would call them all together, and leave it in charge with
them, or go to them, one by one, which he thought best: so
we divided it, he to speak to the Spaniards, who were all Pa-
pists, and | to the English, who were all Protestants; and we
~ecommended it earnestly to them, and made them promise
hat they would never make any distinction of Papist or Prot-
stant in their exhorting the savages to turn Christians, but
teach them the genera knowledge of the true God, and of
their Savior Jesus Christ ; and they likewise promised us that
they would never have any differences or disputes one with
another about religion.

When I came to Will Atkins’s house (I may call it so, for
such a house, or such a piece of basket-work, I believe, was
not standing in the world again), there I found the young
woman I have mentioned above, and Will Atkins’s wife, were
become intimates; and this prudent, religious young woman
had perfected the work Will Atkins had begun; and though
it was not above four days after what I have related, yet the
new-baptized savage woman was made such a Christian as I
have Selden heard of in all my observation or conversation in
the world.

It came next into my mind, in the morning before I went
to them, that amongst all the needful things I had to leave with
them, I had not left them a Bible, in which I showed myself
less considering for them than my good friend the widow was
for me, when she sent me the cargo of a hundred pounds from
Lisbon, where she packed up three Bibles and a Prayer-book.
However, the good woman’s charity had a greater extent than
ever she imagined, for they were reserved for the comfort and
instruction of those that made much better use of them than I
had done.

I took one of the Bibles in my pocket, and when I came to
Will Atkins’s tent, or house, and found the young woman and
Atkins’s baptized wife had been discoursing of religion togeth-
er, for Will Atkins told it me with a great deal of joy, I asked
if they were together now, and he said yes; so I went into
the house, and he with me, and we found them together very
earnest in discourse. ‘Q, sir,’ says Will Atkins, “ when
God has sinners to reconcile to himself, and aliens to bring
home, he never wants a messenger; my wife has got a new
instructor; I knew IJ was as unworthy as I was incapable of
that work; that young woman has been sent hither from
heaven; she’is enough to convert a whole island of savages.
The young woman blushed and rose up to go away, but Ia ae ae ya eee

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ROBINSON CRUSOE.

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desired ner to sit still; I told her she had a good work upon
her hands, and I hoped God would bless her in it.

We talked a little, and I did not perceive they had any
book among them, though I did not ask; but I put my hand
into my pocket, and pulled out my Bible: ‘‘ Here,” says I to
Atkins, ‘‘I have brought you an assistant that perhaps you
had not before.’ ‘fhe man was so confounded that he was
not able to speak for some time; but recovering himself, he
takes it with both his hands, and turning to his wife, ‘‘ Here,
my dear,” says he, “‘did not I tell you our God, though he
lives above, could hear what we said? Here’s the book I
prayed for when you and I kneeled down under the bush; now
God has heard us, and sent it.’ When he had said-so, the
man fell into such transports of passionate joy, that between
the joy of having it, aud giving God thanks for it, the tears ran
down his face like a child that was crying.

The woman was surprised, and was like to have run into a
mistake that none of us were aware of, for she firmly believed
God had sent the book upon her husband’s petition. It is
true, that providentially it was so, and might be taken so ina
consequent sense; but J believe it would have been no difficult
matter, at that time, to have persuaded the poor woman to
have believed that an express messenger came from heaven on
purpose to bring that individual book ; but it was too serious
o matter to suffer any delusion to take place; so I turned toROBINSON CRUSOE, 3947

the young woman, and told her we did not desire to impose
upon the new convert, in her first and more ignorant under-
standing of things, and begged her to explain to her that God
may be very properly said to answer our petitions, when, in
che course of his providence, such things are in a particular
manner brought to pass as we petitioned for; but we did not
expect returns from Heaven in a miraculous and particular
manner, and it is our mercy that it is not so.

This the young woman did afterwards effectually, so that
there was, I assure you, no priestcraft used here; and I should
nave thought it one of the most unjustifiable frauds in the
world to have had it so. But the surprise of Joy upon Will
Atkins is really not to be expressed; and there, we may be
sure, was no delusion. Sure no man was.ever more thankful
im the world for any thing of its kind than he was for the
Bible; nor, I believe, never any man was glad of a Bible from
a better principle ; and though he had been a most profligate
creature, headstrong, furious, and desperately wicked, yet
this man is a standing rule to us all for the well instructing
children, viz. that parents should never give over to teach and
instruct, nor ever despair of the success of their endeavors,
let the children be-ever so refractory, or, to appearance, in-
sensible of instruction; for, if ever God, in his providence,
touches the conscience of such, the force of their education
returns upon them, and the early instruction of parents is not
lost, though it may have been many years faid asleep, but,
some time or other, they may find the benefit of it. ‘Thus it
was with this poor man; however ignorant he was of religion
and Christian knowledge, he found he had some to do with
now nfore ignorant than himself, and that the least part of the
instruction of his good father that’ now came to his mind was
of use to him.

Among the rest it occurred to him, he said, how his father
used to insist so much on the inexpressible value of the Bible,
the privilege and blessing of it to nations, families, and per-
sons; but he never entertained the least notion of the wort
of it till now, when, being to talk to heathens, savages, and
barbarians, he wanted the help of the written oracle for his
assistance.

The young woman was glad of it also for the present occa
sion, though she had one, and so had the youth, on board our
ship, among their goods, which were not yet brought on shore.
And now having said so many things of this young woman, I
cannot omit telling one story more of her and myself, which
has something in it very informing and remarkable.

I have related to what extremity the poor young woman was
reduced, how her mistress was starved to death, and died on
board that unhappy ship we met at sea, and how the whole
ship’s company was reduced to the last extremity. ‘The gen-

~

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LAR ARES RECN. TIN

338 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

tlewoman and her son, and this maid, were first hardly used,
as to provisions, and at last totally neglected and starved ;
that is tu say, brought to the last extremity of hunger.—One
day, being discoursmg with her on the extremities they suf-
fered, I asked her if she could describe, by what she had felt,
what it was to starve, and how it appeared. She told me
she believed she could, and she told her tale very distinctly
thus :—

“First, sir,” said she, ‘we had for some days fared ’exceed-
ing hard, and suffered very great hunger ; but at last we were
wholly without food of any kind, except sugar, and a little
wine and water. The first day, after I had received no food
at all, I found myself, towards evening, first empty and sick at
the stomach, and near night much inclined to yawning and
sleep. I lay down on a couch in the great cabin to sleep, and
slept about three hours, and awaked a little refreshed, having
taken a glass of wine when I lay down: after being about three
hours awake, it being about five o’clock in the morning, I found
myself empty, and my stomach sickish, and lay down again,
but could not sleep at all, being very faint and ill; and thus I
continued all the second day, with a strange variety, first hun-
gry, then sick again, with retchings to vomit. ‘he second
night, being obliged to go to bed again without any food, more
than a draught of fresh water, and being asleep, 1 dreamed I
was at Barbadoes, and that the: market was mightily stocked
with provisions; that | bought some for my mistress, and
went and dined very heartily. I thought my stomach was as
full after this as it would have been after a good dinner; but
when I awaked, I was exceedingly sunk in my spirits to find
myself in the extremity of famine. The last glass of wine we
had I drank, and put sugar in it, because of its having some
spirit to supply nourishment ; but there being no substance in
the stomach for the digesting office to work upon, I found the
only effect of the wine was, to raise disagreeable fumes from
the stomach into the head; and I lay, as they told me, stupid
and senseless, as one drunk, for sometime. ‘The third day, in
the morning, after a night of strange, confused, and inconsis-
tent dreams, and rather dozing than sleeping, I awaked raven-
ous and furious with hunger; and I question, had not my un-
derstanding returned and conquered it, whether, if [ had been
a mother, and had had a little child with me, its life would have
been safe or not. This lasted about three hours; during which
time I was twice raging mad as any creature in Bedlam, as my
young master told me, ‘and as he can now inform you.

‘Tn one of these fits of lunacy or distraction I fell down and
struck my face against the corner of a pallet-bed, in which my
mistress lay, and, with the blow, the blood gushed out of my
nose; and the cabin-boy bringing me a little basin, | sat down
and bled into it a great deal; and as the blood came from me,
J came to myself, and the violence of the flame or fever I wasROBINSON CRUSOE 339

in abated, and so did the ravenous part of the hunger. Then
I grew sick, and retched to vomit, but could not, for I had
nothing in my stomach to bring up. After I had bled some
tune [ swooned, and they all believed I was dead; but I came
to myself soon after, and then had a most dreadful pain in my
stomach, not to be described, not like the colic, but a gnawing,
eager pain for food ; and towards the night it went off, with a
kind of earnest wishing or longing for food, something like,
as I suppose, the longing of a woman with child. I took
another draught of water, with sugar in it; but my stomach
loathed the sugar, and brought it all up again: then I took a
draught of water without sugar, and that staid with me; and
[ Jaid me down upon tiie bed, praying most heartily that it would
please God to take me away; and composing my mind in
hopes of it, I slumbered awhile, and then waking, thought my-
self dying, being light with vapors from an empty stomach;
I recommended my soul then to God, and earnestly wished that
ody would throw me into the sea.

All this while my mistress lay by me, just, as I thought,
expiring, but bore it with much more patience than I; gave
the last bit of bread she had left to her child, my young master,
who would not have taken it, but she obliged him to- eat it;
and I believe it saved his life.

‘* Towards the morning [slept again ; and when I awoke, I fell
into a violent passion of crying, and after that had a second fit
of violent hunger: I got up. ravenous, and in-a most dreadful
condition: had my mistress been dead, as much as I loved her,
I am certain | should have eaten a piece of her flesh with as
much relish, and as unconcerned, as ever I did eat the flesh of
any creature appointed for food ; and once or twice | was going
to bite my own arm: at last I saw the basin in which was the
blood I had bled at my nose the day before; I ran to it, and
swallowed it with such haste, and such a greedy appetite, as
if I wondered nobody had taken it before, and afraid it should
be taken from me now. After it was down, though the
thoughts of it filled me with horror, yet it checked the fit of
hunger, and I took another draught of water, and was com-
posed and refreshed for some hours after. This was the fourth
day; and thus I held it till towards night; when, within the
compass of three hours, I had all the several circumstances
over again, one after another, viz. sick, sleepy, eagerly hungry,

ain in the stomach, then ravenous again ; then sick, then
hamatie: then crying, then ravenous again ; and so every quar-
ter of an hour; and my strength wasted exceedingly: at night
I laid me down, having no comfort but in the hope that I
should die before morning.

‘ All this night I had no sleep ; but the hunger was now
turned into a disease; and I had a terrible colic and gripins,
by wind, instead of food, having found its way into the bowels ;a

SMS ATER PRAT YO

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340 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

and in this condition I lay till morning, when I was surprised
with the cries and lamentations of my young master, who call-
ed out to me that his mother was dead; I lifted myself up a
little, for I had not strength to rise, but found she was not dead,
though she was able to give very little signs of life.

«¢f had then such convulsions in my stomach, for want of
sume sustenance, that I cannot describe; with such frequent
tiiroes and pangs of appetite, that nothing but the tortures of
death can imitates and in this condition | was when I heard the
seamen above cry out, ‘A sa! a sail!’ and halloo and jump

about as if they were distracted.

“J was not able to get off from the bed, and my mistress
much Jess; and my young master was so sick, that [ thought
he had been expiring; so we could not open the cabin door,
or get any account what it was that occasioned such confusion ;
nor had we any conversation with the ship’s company for two
days, they having told us that they had not a mouthful of any
thing to eat in the ship; and this they told us afterwards, they
thought we had been dead. It was this dreadful-condition we
were in when-you were sent to save our lives; and how you
found us, sir, you know as well_as [, and_better too.”

This was her own relation, and is such a distinct account
of starving to death, as, I confess, I never met with, and was
exceeding entertaining to me. - I am the rather apt to believe
it to be a true account, because the youth gave me an account
of a good part of it; though, I must own, not so distinct and
so feeling as the maid; and the rather, because it seems his
mother fed him at the price of her own life; but the poor
maid, though her constitution being stronger than that of her
mistress, who was in years, and a weakly woman too, she
might struggle harder with it; I say, the poor maid might be
supposed to feel the extremity something sooner than her
mistress, who might be allowed to keep the last bit something
longer than she parted with any to relieve the maid. No
question, as the case is here related, if our ship, or some other,
had not so providentially met them, a few days more would
nave ended all their lives, unless they had prevented it by eating
one another; and that even, as their case stood, would have
served them but a little while, they being five hundred leagues
from any land, or any possibility of relief, other than in the
miraculous manner it happened; but this is by the way—l
return to my disposition of things among the people.

_And, first, it is to be observed here, that for many reasons 1
did not think fit to let them know any thing of the sloop I had
framed, and which | thought of setting up among them; for I
found, at least at my first coming, such seeds of division among
them, that I saw plainly, had | set up the sloop, and left it
among them, they would, upon every light disgust, have sep-
arated, and gone away from one another, or perhaps have34)

turned pirates, and so made the island aden of thieves, instead
of a plantation of sober and religious people, as I intend-
ed it; nor did I leave the two pieces of brass cannon that
I had on board, or the two quarter-deck guns that my nephew
took extraordinary, for the same reason: I thought it was
enough to qualify them for a defensive war against any that
should invade them, but not to set them up for an offensive
war, or to go abroad to attack others; which, in the end,
would only bring ruin and destruction upon them; I reserved
the sloop, therefore, and the guns, for their service another
way, as I shall observe in its place.

Having now done with the island, I left them all in good
circumstances and in a flourishing condition, and went on
board my ship again the 6th of May, having been about twen-
ty-five days among them; and as they were all resolved to
stay upon the island till I came to remove them, I promised
to send them further relief from the Brazils, if I could pos-
sibly find an opportunity: and, particularly, I promised to
send them some cattle, such as sheep, hogs, and cows; as to
the two cows and calves which I brought from England, we
had been obliged, by the length of our voyage, to kill them at
sea, for want of kay to feed them.

The next day, giving them a salute of five guns at pari-
ing, we set sail, and arrived at the bay of All Saints, in the
Brazils, in about twenty-two days, meeting nothing remark-
able in our passage but this: that about three days after we
had sailed, being becalmed, and the current setting strong to
the E. N. E., running, as it were, into a bay or gulf on the
land side, we were driven something out of our course, and
once or twice our men cried out, ‘‘ Land tothe eastward ;”
but whether it was the continent or islands we could not tell
by any means. But the third day, towards evening, the sea
smooth, and the weather calm, we saw the sea, as it were,
covered towards the land with something very black ; not being
able to discover what it was, till after some time, our chiet
mate going up the main-shrouds a little way, and looking at
them with a perspective, cried out it was an army. I could
not imagine what he meant by an army, and thwarted him a
little hastily. “‘ Nay, sir,” says he, ‘‘ don’t be angry, for ’tis
an army, and a fleet too; for I believe there are a thousand
canoes, and you may see them paddle along, for they are
coming towards us apace.”

I was a little surprised then, indeed, and so was my nephew
the captain; for he had heard such terrible stories of them in
the island, and having never been in those seas before, that he
could not tell what to think of it, but said two or three times,
we should all be devoured. I must confess, considering we
were becalmed, and the current set strong towards the shore,
I liked it the worse; however, I bade them not be afraid, but
bring the ship to an anchor as soon as we came so near as to

know that we must engage them.REREAD TGR AE ATT DD

342 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

The weather continued calm, and they came on apace
towards us; so I gave orders to come to an anchor, and furl
all our sails; as for the savages, I told them they had nothing
to fear but fire, and therefore they should get their boats out,
and fasten them, one close by the head, and _ the other by the
stern, and man them both well, and wait the issue in that pos-
ture: this I did, that the men in the boats might be ready
with sheets and buckets to put out any fire these savages might
endeavor to fix to the outside of the ship.

In this posture we lay by for them, and in a little while they
came up with us; but never was such a horrid sight seen by
Christians: though my mate was much mistaken in his calcula-
tion of their number, yet when they came up we reckoned about
a hundred and twenty-six; some of them had sixteen or seven-
teen men in them, and some more, and the least six or seven.

When they came nearer to us, they seemed to be struck
with wonder and astonishment, as at a sight which doubtless
they had never seen before; nor could they, at first, as we
afterwards understood, know what to make of us; they came
boldly up, however, very near to us, and seemed to go about
to row round us; but we called to our men in the boats not to
let them come too near them. This very order brought us to
an engagement with them, without our designing it; for five
or six of the large canoes came so near our long-boat that our
men beckoned with their hands to keep them back, which
they understood very well, and went back; but at their retreat
about fifty arrows came on board us from those boats, and one
of our men in the long-boat was very much wounded. Hov-
ever, I called to them not to fire by any, means; but »e
handed down some deal boards into the boat, and the carpen-
ter presently set up a kind of fence, like waste boards, to
cover them from the arrows of the savages, if they should
shoot again.

About half an hour afterwards they all came up in a body
astern of us, and so near, as that we could easily discern, what
they were, though we could not tell their design; and I easily
found they were some of my old friends, the same sort .of sav-
ages that I had been used to engage with; and ina short time
more they rowed a little farther out to sea, till they came direct-
ly broadside with us, and then rowed down straight upon us,
uill they came so near that they could hear us speak : upon this
t ordered all my men to keep close, lest they should shoot any
more arrows, and made all our guns ready; but being so near
as to be within hearing, I made Friday go out upon the deck,
and call out aloud to them in his language, to know what they
ment; which accordingly he did. Whether they understood
sim or not, that I knew not; but as soon as he had called to
bem, six of them, who were in the foremost or nighest boat toROBINSON CRUSOE. 343

us, turned their canoes from us, and stooping down, showed

us their naked backsides, just as if, in English, saving your
presence, they had bid us | ——: whether this was a defi-
ance or challenge we knew not, or whether it was done in mere
contempt, or as a signal to the rest; but immediately Friday
cried out they were going to shoot, and, unhappily for him,
poor fellow, they let fly about three hundred of their arrows,
and, to my inexpressible grief, killed poor Friday, no other
man being in their sight. ‘he poor fellow was shot with no
less than three arrows, and about three more fell very near him;
such unlucky marksmen they were!

i was so enraged at the loss of my old trusty servant and
+ companion, that I immediately ordered five guns to be loaded
with small shot, and four with great, and gave them such a
broadside as they had never heard in their lives before, to be
sure. ‘They were not above half a cable’s length off when we
fired ; and our gunners took their aim so well, that three or four
of their canoes were overset, as we had reason to believe, by
ene shot only.

The ill manners of turning up their bare backsides to us
gave us no great offence ; neither did I know for certain whether
that which would pass for the greatest contempt among us
might be understood so by them or not; therefore, in return, I
had only resolved to have fired four or five guns at them with
pepe! only, which I knew would frighten them sufficiently ;

ut when they shot at us directly, with all the fury they were
capable of, and especially as they had killed my poor Friday,
whom I so entirely loved and valued, and who, indeed, so well
deserved it, | thought myself not only justifiable before God
and man, but would have been very glad if I could have over-
set every canoe there, and drowned every one of them.

I can neither tell how many we killed, nor how many we
wounded, at this broadside, but sure such a fright and hurry
never was seen among such a multitude; there were thirteen or
fourteen of their canoes split and overset in all, and the men
all set a swimming; the rest, frightened out of their wits,
scoured away as fast as they could, taking but little care to
save those whose boats were split or spoiled with our shot; sa.
I suppose that many of them were lost; and our men took up
one poor fellow swimming for his life, above an hour after they
were all gone. i

The small shot from-our cannon must needs kill and wound
a great many; but, in short, we never knew any thing how it
went with them, for they fled so fast, than in three hours, or
thereabouts, we could not see above three or four stragglin
canoes, nor did we ever see the rest any more; for a breeze ol
wind springing up the same evening, we weighed and set sail

for the Brazils.
We had a prisoner, indeed, but the creature was so sullenee

344 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

that he would neither eat nor speak, and we all fancied he would
starve himself to death: but I took a way to cure him; for 1
made them take him and turn him into the long-boat, and make
him believe they would toss him into the sea again, and so
leave him where they found him, if he would not speak: nor
would that do, but they really did throw him into the sea, and
came away from him; and then he followed them, for he swam
like a cork, and called to them, in his tongue, though they
knew not one word of what he said: however, at last they took
bim in again, and then he began to be more tractable; nor did
I ever design they should drown him.

We were now under sail again; but I was the most discon-
solate creature alive for want of my man Friday, and would
have been very glad to have gone back to*the island to have ta-
ken one of the rest from thence for my occasion; but it could
not be; so we went on. We had one prisoner, as I have said,
and it was a long time before we could make him understand
any thing; but in time, our men taught him some English, and
he began to be a little tractable. Afterwards, we inquired
what country he came from, but could make nothing of what
he said; for his speech was so odd, all gutturals, and he spoke
in the throat in such a hollow, odd manner, that we could never
form a word after him; and we were all of opinion that they
nught speak that language as well if they were gagged as other

wise; hor could we perceive that they had any occasion either
for teeth, tongue, lips, or palate, but formed their words just
as a hunting-horn forms a tune, with an open throat. He told
us, however, some time after, when we had taught bim to speak
a little English, that they were going with their kings to fight
a great battle. When he said kings, we asked him how many
kings. He said they were five nation (we could not make him
understand the plural s), and that they all joined to go against
two nation. We asked him what made them come up to us.
He said, ‘‘’T'o makee te great wonder look.’’ Here it is to be
observed, that all those natives, as also those of Africa, when
they learn English, always add two e’s at the end of the words
where we-use one; and they place the accent upon them, as
makee, takee, and the like; and we could not break them of it ;
nay, | could hardly make Friday leave it off, though at last
he did.

And now I name the poor fellow once more, I must take my
last leave of him: Poor, honest Friday! We buried him with
all the decency and solemnity possible, by putting him into a
coffin, and throwing him into the sea; and I caused them to
fire eleven guns for him; and so ended the life of the most
grateful, faithful, honest, and most affectionate servant that
ever man had.

We went now away with a fair wind for Brazil; and in
about twelve days’ time we made land, in the latitude of five
degrees south of the line, being the north-easternmost land ofROBINSON CRUSOE. 245

all that part of America. We kept on S. by E. in sight of the
shore four days, when we made Cape St. Augustine, and in
three days came to an anchor off the Bay of All Saints, the old
place of my deliverance, from whence came both my good
and evil fate. .

Never ship came to this port that had less busigess than [|
had, and yet it was with great difficulty that we were admitted
to hold the least correspondence on shore: not my partner
himself, who was alive, and made a great figure among them;
not my two merchant-trustees; not the fame of my wonderful
preservation in the island, could obtain me that favor; but my
partner remembering that I had given five hundred moidores
«) the prior of the monastery of the Augustines, and two hun-
dred and severty-two to the poor, went to the monastery, and
obliged the prior that then was, to go to the governor, and get
leave for me personally, with the captain and one more, be-
sides eight seamen, to come on shore, and no more; and this
upon condition absolutely capitulated for, that we should nof
offer to land any goods out of the ship, or to carry any person
away without license. They were so strict with us as to land-
ing any goods, that it was with extreme difficulty that 1 got op
shore three bales of English goods, such as fine broadcloths,
stuffs, and some linen, which [-had brought for a present to
my partner.

He was avery generous, open-hearted man; though, like
me, he came from little at first; and though he knew not that
I had the least design of giving him any thing, he sent me on
board a present of fresh provisions, wine, and sweetmeats,
worth above thirty moidores, including some tobacco, and
three or four fine medals of gold; but I was even with him in
my present, which, as I have said, consisted of fine broad-
cloth, English stuffs, lace, and fine Hollands; also I delivered
him about the value of one hundred pounds sterling, in the
same goods, for other uses; and I obliged him to set up the
sloop, which I had brought with me from England, as I have
said, for the use of my colony, in order to send the refresh-
ments I intended to my plantation. _

Accordingly, he got hands, and finished the sloop in a very
few days, for she was already framed; and I gave the master
of her such instructions as that he could not miss the place;
nor did he miss them, as I had an account from my partner
afterwards. I got him soon loaded with the small cargo I sent
them; and one of our seamen, that had been on shore with me
there, offered to go with the sloop and settle there, upon my let-
ter to the governor Spaniard to allot him a sufficient quantity
of land for a plantation, and giving him some clothes and tools
for his planting-work, which he said he understood, having
been an old planter at Maryland, and a buccaneer into the
hargain I encouraged the fellow, by granting all he desired ;

bsae

OOS SRE

sett

DIN IIE MEES te Bar My

  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
  

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

346

 

and, as an addition, I gave him the savage whom we had
taken prisoner of war, to be his slave, and ordered the gov-
ernor Spaniard to give him his share of every thing he wanted
with the rest.

> When we came to fit this man out, my old partner told me
there was certain very honest fellow, a Brazil planter of his
acquaintance, who had fallen into the displeasure of the
church. ‘I know not what the matter is with him,” says he,
“but on my conscience I think he is a heretic in his heart,
and he has been obliged to conceal himself: for fear of the in-
quisition ;”’ that he would be very glad of such an opportunity
to make his escape, with his wife and two daughters; and if
T would let them go to my island, and allot them a plantation,
he would give them a small stock to begin with; for the officers
of the inquisition had seized all his effects and estate, ‘and he
had nothing left but a little household stuff, and two slaves ;
““and,” adds he, ‘though I hate his principles, yet L would
not have him fall into their hands, for he will be assuredly
burned alive if he does.”

I granted this presently, and joined my Englishman with
them; and we concealed the man, and his wife and daughters,
on board our ship, till the sloop put out to go to sea; and
then having put all their goods on board some time before, we
put them on board the sloop after she was got out of the bay.

Our seaman was mightily pleased with this: new partner ;
and their stocks, indeed, were much alike, rich in tools, in
preparations, and_afarm ; but nothing to begin with, except as
above: however, they carried over with them, which was
worth all the rest, some materials for planting sugar-canes,
with some plants of canes, which he, I mean the Portugal
man, understood very well.

Among the rest of the supplies sent to my tenants in the
island, I sent them by the sloop three milch-cows and five
calves, about twenty-two hogs among them. three sows big
with pig, two mares, and a stone-horse. For my Spaniards,
according to my promise, I engaged three Portugal women to
#0, and recommended it to them to marry them, and use them
kindly. {£ could have procured more women, but 1 remem:
bered that the poor, prosecuted man had two daughters, and
that there were but five of the Spaniards that wanted; the
rest had wives of their own, though in another country.

All this cargo arrived safe, and, as you may easily suppose,
was very welcome to my old inhabitants, who were now, with
this addition, between sixty and seventy people, besides little
children, of which there were a great many. I found letters
at London from them all, by way of Lisbon, when I came
back to England, of which Ishall also take some notice im-
mediately.

I have now done with the island, and all manner of discourse

£ROBINSON CRUSOE 347

about it; and whoever reads the rest of my memorandums would
do well to turn his thoughts entirely from it, and expect to
read of the follies of an old man, not warned by his own harms,
much less by those of other men, to beware of the lke; not
cooled by almost forty years’ miseries and disappointments 5
not satisfied with prosperity beyond expectation, ner made
cautious by afflictions and distress beyond imitation.

{ had no more business to go to the East Indies than a man
at full liberty has to go to the turnkey at Newgate, and desire
him to lock him up among the prisoners there, and starve him.
Had I taken a small vessel from England, and gone directly to
the isla: had I loaded her, as I did the other vessel, with all
the neé ies for the plantation, and for my people; taken a
patent from the government here to have secured my property,
in subjection only to that of England; had I carried over can-
non and ammunition, servants, and people to plant, and taken
possession of the place, fortified and strengthened it in the
name of England, and increased it with people, as I might
easily have done; had I then settled myself there, and sent the
ship back laden with good rice, as I might also have done in
six months’ time, and ordered my friends to have fitted her out
again for our supply; had f done this, and staid there my-
self, I had at least acted like a man of common sense: but I
was possessed with a wandering spirit, and scorned all advan-
tages > I pleased myself with being the patron of the people I
placed there, and doing for them in a kind of haughty, majestic
way, like an old patriarchal monarch, providing for them as if
I had been father of the whole family, as well as of the planta
tion: but 1 never so much as pretended to plant in the name
of any government or nation, or to acknowledge any prince, or
to call my people. subjects to any one nation more than an-
other: nay, I never so much as-gave the place a name, but
left it, as | found it, belonging to nobedy, and the people un
der no discipline or government but my own ; who, though I
had influence over them as a father and benefactor, had no au-
thority or power to act or command one way or other, further
than voluntary consent moved them to comply: yet. even this,
had I -staid there, would have done well enough; but as I
rambled from them, and came there no more, the last letters I
had from any of them were by my partner s means, who after-
wards sent another sloop to the place, and who sent me word,
though [ had not the letter till 1 got to London, several ie
after it was written, that they went ou but poorly, were ae.
tent with their long stay there ; that Will Atkins we a ;
that five of the Spaniards were come away ; and thoug vane
had not been much molested by the savages, yet they had ha
some skirmishes with them; and that they begged of aa to
write to me to think of the promise I had made to fetch nee
away, that they might see their country AIT ee wen Hee

But I was gone a wildgoose chase, indeed! an y{eR TEER: TIE

ERT RARER RS eR NOME tele ar

  

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

will have any more of me must be content to follow me into a
new variety of follies, hardships, and wild adventures, wherein
the justice of Providence may be duly observed ; and we may
see how easily Heaven can gorge us with our own desires, make
the strongest of our wishes be our affliction, and punish us
most severely with those very things which we think it would
be our utmost happiness to be allowed in. Whether I had
business or no business, away I went: 1t 1s no time now to en-
large upon the reason or absurdity of my own conduct, but to
come to the history ; was embarked for the voyage, and the
voyage I went. ; :

T shall only add a word or two concerning my honest Popish
clergyman ; for let their opinion ef us, and all other heretics
in general, as they call us, be as uncharitable as it may, I
verily believe this man was very sincere, and wished the good
of all men: yet I believe he was upon the reserve in many of
his expressions, to prevent giving me offence; for I scarce
heard him once call on the blessed Virgin, or mention St. Jago
or his guardian angel, though so common with the rest of them :
however, I say, I had not the least doubt of his sincerity and

ious intentions on his own part; and I am firmly of opinion,
if the rest of the Popish missionaries were like him, they would
strive to visit even,the poor T'artars and Laplanders, where they
have nothing to give hems as well as covet to flock to India,
Persia, China, &c., the most wealthy of the heathen countries ;
for if they expected to bring no. gains to their church by it, it
may well be admired how they came to admit the Chinese
Confucius into the calendar of the Christiaa saints. But this
by the bye.

A ship being ready to sail for Lisbon, my pious priest asked
me leave to go thither ; being still, as he observed, bound never
to finish any voyage he began. How happy had it been for
me if I had gone with him! But it was too late now: all things
Heaven appoints for the best: had I gone with him, I had
never had so many things to be thankful for, and the reader had
never heard of the second part of the travels and adveutures
of Robinson Crusoe ; so I must here leave, exclaiming at my-
self, and go on with my voyage. From the Brazils we made
directly over the Atlantic Sea to the Cape of Good Hope, and
had a tolerable good voyage, our course generally south-east,
now and then a storm, and some contrary winds, but my disas-
ters at sea were at an end; my future rubs and cross events
were to befall me on shore, that it might appear the land wasas
well prepared to be our scourge as the sea.

Our ship was on a trading voyage, and had a supercargo on
board, who was to direct all her motions after she arrived at the
cape, only being limited to a certain number of days for stay,
by charter-party, at the several ports she was to go to. This
Was none of my business, neither did I meddle with it; myROBINSON CRUSOE.

nephew, the captain, and the supercargo, adjusting all those
things between them as they thought fit.

_ We staid at the cape no longer than was needful to take
in fresh water, but made the best of our way for the coast of
Coromandel. We were indeed informed that a French man
-of-war of fifty guns, and two large merchant-ships, were gone
for the Indies; and as J knew we were at war with France, |
had some apprehensions of them ; but they went their own way,
and we heard no more of them.

I shall not pester the reader with a tedious description of
places, journals of our voyages, variations of the compass,
latitudes, trade-winds, &&c.; it is enough to name the ports
and places which we touched at, and what occurred to us
upon our passing from one to another. We touched first at
the island of Madagascar, where, though the people are fierce
and treacherous, and very well armed with lances and bows,
which they use with inconceivable dexterity, yet we fared very
well with them awhile; they treated us very civilly; and,
for some trifles which we gave them, such as knives, scissors,
éc., they brought us eleven good fat bullocks of a middling
size, which we took in, partly for fresh provisions for our
present spending, and the rest to salt for the ship’s use.

We were obliged to stay here some time after we had fur-
nished ourselves with provisions; and I, who was always too
curious to look into every nook of the world wherever I came,
was for going on shore as often as I could. It was on the east
side of the island that we went on shore one evening ; and the
people, who, by the way, are very numerous, came thronging
about us, and stood gazing at us at a distance; but as we had
traded freely with them, and had been kindly used, we thought
ourselves in no danger; but when we saw the people, we cut
three boughs out of atree, and stuck them up ata distance from
h is-a mark in that country not only ofa

us; which, it seems, 1 1]
truce and friendship, but when it is accepted, the other side sets
1 | that they accept the

up three poles or boughs, which 1s a signal t
truce too; but then this is a known condition of the truce, that
you are not to pass beyond their three poles, towards them, nor
“hey to come past your three poles, or boughs, towards you ;
so that you are perfectly secure within the three poles, and all
the space between your poles and theirs 1s allowed like a
market for free converse, traffic, and commerce. When you
eo there, you must not carry your weapons with you; and if
they come into that space, they stick up their javelins and
jances all at the first poles, and come on unarmed ; but if any
violence is offered them, and the truce thereby broken, away
they run to the poles, and lay hold of their weapons, and the

truce is at an end.
it happened one eveni

ng when we went on shore, that 4

greater number of their people came down than usual, but allS ROMO RENTERS

TURIN Rca RNP A PSRMED Si a Naty

    
  
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  

350 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

very friendly and civil; and they brougnt several kinds of
yrovisions, for which we satisfied them with such toys as we
ba their women also brought us milk and roots, and several
things very acceptable tous, and all was quiet ; and we made
us a little tent or hut of some boughs of trees, and lay on shore
all night.

I know not what was the occasion, but I was not so well
satisfied to lie on shore as the rést; and the boat riding at an
anchor about a stone’s cast from the land, with two men in
her to take care of her, I made one of them come on shore ;
and getting some boughs of trees to cover us also in the boat,
[ spread the sail on the bottom of the boat; and lay under the
cover of the branches of the trees all night in the boat.

About two o’clock in the morning we heard one of our men
make a terrible noise on the shore, calling out, for God’s sake,
to bring the boat in, and come and help them, for-they were
all like to be murdered; at the same time I heard the fire of
five muskets, which was the number of the guns they had, and
that three times over; for, if, seems, the natives here were not
so easily frightened with guns as the savages were in America,
where I had to do with them. All this while I knew not what
was the matter, but rousing immediately from sleep with the
noise, I caused the boat to be thrust in, and resolved, with
three fusees we had on board, to land and assist our men.

We got-the boat soon to the shore, but our men were in too
much haste; for being come to the shore, they plunged into
the water, to get to the boat with all the expedition they could,
being pursued by between three and four hundred men. Our
men were but nine in all, and only five of them had fusees with
them ; the rest had pistols and swords, indeed, but they werg.
of small use-to them.

We took up seven of our men, and with difficulty enough
too, three of them being very ill wounded; and that which was
still worse was, that while we stood in the boat to take our
men in, we were in as much danger as they were in on shore ;
for they poured their arrows in upon us so thick, that we were
glad to barricade the side of the boat up with the benches, and
two or three loose boards, which, to our great satisfaction, we
had by mere accident in the boat. And yet, had it been day-
light, they are, it seems, such exact marksmen, that if they
could have seen but. the least part of any of us, they would
have been sure of us. We had, by the light of the moon, a
little sight of them, as they stood pelting us from the shore
with darts and arrows; and having got ready our fire-arms,
we gave them a volley, that we could hear, by the cries of
some of them, had wounded several ; however, they stood thus
in battle-array on the shore till break of day, which we sup-
posed was that they might see the better to take their aim at us.

In this condition we lay, and could not tell how to weigh
our anchor or set up our sail, because we must needs stand upROBINSON CRUSOR. 351

in the boat, and they were as sure to hit us as we were to hit
a bird in a tree with small shot. We made signals of distress
to the ship, which though she rode a league off, yet my nephew,
the captain, hearing our firing, and by glasses perceiving the
posture we lay-in, and that we fired towards the shore, pretty
well understood us; and weighing anchor with all speed, he
stood as near the shore as he durst with the ship, and then
sent another boat, with ten hands in her, to assist us; but we
called to them not to come too near, telling them what con-
dition we were in; however, they stood in near to us, and one
of the men taking the end of a tow-line in his hand, and keep-
ing one boat between him and the enemy, sr that they could
not perfectly see him, swam on board us, and made fast the
line to the boat ; upon which we slipped out a little cable, and
leaving our anchor behind, they towed 1s out of reach of the
arrows; we all the while lying close behind the barricado we
had made.

As soon as we were got from between the ship and the
shore, that we could Jay her side to the shore, she ran along
just by them, and poured in a broadside among them loaded
with pieces of iron and lead, small bullets, and such stuff, be-
sides the great shot, which made a terrible havoc among them.

When we were got on board and out of danger, we had time
to examine into the occasion of this fra and, indeed, our
supercargo, who had been often in those parts, put me upon
it; for he said he was sure the inhabitants would not have
touched us after we had made a truce, if we had not done
something to provoke them to it. At length it came out that
an old woman, who had come to sell us some milk, had brought
it within our poles, and a young woman with her, who also
brought some roots or herbs; and while the old woman
(whether she was mother to the young woman or no they
could not tell) was selling us the milk, one of our men offered
some rudeness to the wench that was with her, at which the
old woman made a great noise: however, the seaman would
not quit his prize, but carried her out of the old woman’s sight
among the trees, it being almost dark; the old woman went
away without her, and, as we may suppose, made an outcry
among the people she came from; who, upon notice, raised
this great army upon us in three or four hours; and it was
great odds but we had all been destroyed. ee

One of our men was killed with a lance thrown at him just
at the beginning of the attack, as he sallied out of the tent they
had made; the rest came off free, all but the fellow who wag
the occasion of all the mischief, who paid dear enough for his
b.ack mistress, for we could not hear what became of him a
great while. We lay apo the shore two days after, though
the wind presented, and made signals for him, and made our

boat sail up shore and down shore several leagues, but in vain: soee ee

A Rs PAC MR

ORT INE SB o

852 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

we were obliged to give him over; and if he alone had suffered
for it, the loss had been less.

I could not satisfy myself, However. without venturing on
shore once more, to try if I could learn any thing of him or them ;
it was the third night after the action that I had a great mind
to learn, if I could. by any means, what mischief we > had done,
and how the g game stood on the Indians’ side. I was careful
to do it in the dark , lest we should be attacked again; but 1
ought, indeed, to have been sure that the men I went with had
been under my command, before I engaged in a thing so
hazardous and mischievous as I was brought into by it, with-
out design.

We took twenty as stout fellows with us as any in the ship,
besides the supercargo and myself, and we landed, two hours
before midnight, at the same place where the Indians stood
drawn up in ‘the evening before; I landed here, because my
design, as I have said, was chiefly to see if they had quitted
the field, and if they had left any marks behind them of the
mischief we had done them; and I thought if we could sur-

rise one or two of them, perhaps we might get our man again,
by way of exchange.

We landed without any noise, and divided our men into twe
bodies, whereof the boatswain commanded one, and I the
other. We neither saw nor heard any body stir when we
landed; and we marched up, one body at a distance from the
other, to the place, but at first could see nothing, it being
very dark : till by and by our boatswain, who led the first

arty, stumbled and fell over a dead body. 'This made them
halt awhile ; for knowing by the circumstances that they were
at the place where the Indians had stood, they waited for my
coming up there. We concluded to halt till the moon began
to rise, which we knew would be inless than an hour, w hen we
could easily discern the havoc we had made among them. We
told thirty-two bodies upon the ground, whereof two were not
quite dead;.some had an arm, and some a leg shot off, and
one his head; those that were wounded, we suppose, they had
carried away.

When we had made, as I thought, a full discovery of all we
could come to the knowledge of, I was resolved for going on
board; but the boatswain “and his party sent me word ‘that
they were resolved to make a visit to the Indian town, where
these dogs, as they called them, dwelt, and asked me to go
along with them; and if they could find them, as they still
fancied they should, they did not doubt of getting a good
booty ; and it might be they might find Tom. Jefiry there :
that was the man’s s name we had lost.

Had they sent to ask my leave to go, I knew well enough
what answer to have given them; for T should have command-
ed them instantly on ‘board, knowing it was not a hazard f+ROBINSON CRUSOE. 359

for us to run, who had a ship, and ship-loading in our charge
and a voyage to make which depended very much upon the
lives of the men; but as they sent me word they were resolved
to go, and only asked me and my company to go along with
them, I positively refused it, and rose up—for I was sitting on
the ground—in order to go to the boat. One or two of the

AU

men began to importune me to go; and when I refused, began

to grumble, and say that they were not under my command,
and they would go. ie Come, Jack,” says one of the men,

will you go with me? I’ll go for one.” Jack said he would,
—and then another,—and, in a word, they all left me but one,
whom I persuaded to stay, and a boy left in the boat. So the
supercargo and I, with the third man, went back to the boat,
where we told them we would stay for them, and take care ta
take in as many of them as should be left; for I told them it
was a mad thing they were going about, and supposed most
of them would run the fate of Tom Jeffry.

They told me, like seamen, they would warrant it they
would come off again, and they would take care, &c.; so
away they went. J entreated them to consider the ship and
the voyage ; that their lives were not their own, and that they
were intrusted with the voyage, in some measure; that if they
miscarried, the ship might be lost for want of their help, and
that they could not answer for it to God or man. But I might
as well have talked to the mainmast of the shin: they were mad
upon their journey, only they gave me good words, and begged
{ would not be angry; that they did ndt doubt but they would
be back again in about an hour at farthest; for the Indian
town, they said, was not above half a mile off, though they
‘ound it above two miles before they got to it.

Well, they all went away ; and though the attempt was des-
perate, and such as none but madmen would have gone about,
yet, to give them their due, they went about it as warily as
boldly : they were gallantly armed, for they had every man a
fusee or musket, a bayonet, and a pistol; some of them had
broad cutlasses, some of them had hangers, and the boatswain
and two more had pole-axes; besides all which, they had
among them thirteen hand-grenadoes: bolder fellows, and
better. provided, never went about any wicked work in the
world. ip :

When they went out, their chief design was plunder, and
they were in mighty hopes of finding gold there; but a cir-
cumstance, which none of them were aware of, set them on
fire with revenge, and made devils of them all. When they
came to the few Indian houses which they thought had been
the town, which was not above half a mile off, they were un-
der a great disappointment, for there were not above twelve
or thirteen houses ; and where the town was, or how big, they
knew not. They consulted, therefore, what to do, and were
some time before they could resolve; for if they fell uponIRIN PNET AIP

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

these, they must cut all their throats, and it was ten to one
but some of them might escape, it being in the night, though
the moon was up; and if one escaped, he would run and raise
all the town, so they should have a whole army upon them ;
again, or the other hand, if they went away and left those un-
touched,—for the people were all asleep,—they could not tell
which way to look for the town; however, the last was the
best advice; so they resolved to leave them, and look for the
town as well as they could. They went ona little way, and
found a cow tied to a tree, this, they presently concluded,
would be a good guide to them; for, they said, the cow cer-
tainly belonged to the town before them, or the town behind
them; and if they untied her, they should see which way she
went; if she went back they had nothing to say to her; but,
if she went forward, they would follow her; so they cut the
cord, which was made of twisted flags, and the cow went on
before them, directly to the town; which, as they reported,
consisted of above two hundred houses or huts, and in some
of these they found several families living together.

Here they found all in silence, as profoundly secure as
sleep could make them; and, first, they called another coun-
cil, to consider what they had to do; and, in a word, they re-
solved to divide themselves into three bodies, and so set three
houses on fire in three parts of the town; and as the men
came out, to seize them and bind them (if any resisted, they
need not be asked what to do then), and so to search the rest
of the houses for plunder ; but they resolved to march silently
first through the town, and see what dimensions it was of, and
if they might venture upon it or no.

They did so, and desperately resolved that they would ven-
ture upon them; but while they were animating one another
to the work, three of them, who were a little before the rest,
called out aloud to them, and told them that they had found
‘Tom Jeffry ; they all ran up to the place, where they found the
poor fellow hanging up naked by one arm, and his throat
cut. ‘There was an Indian house just:by the tree, where they
found sixteen or seventeen of the principal Indians, who had
been concerned in the fray with us before, and two or three
of them wounded with our shot; andour men found they were
awake, and talking one to another in that house, but knew nof
their number.

The sight of their poor mangled comrade so enraged them,
as before, that they swore to one another they would be reven-
ged, and that not an Indian that came into their hands should
have any quarter; and to work they went immediately, and yet
not so madly as might be expected from the rage and fury
they were in. Their first care was to get something that would
soon take fire, but, after a little search, they found that would
be to no purpose; for most of the houses were low, andROBINSON CRUSOE

thatched with flags and rushes, of which the country is full; so
they presently made some wild-fire, as we call it, by wetting a
little powder in the palm of their hands; and in a quarter of an
hour they set the town on fire .n four or five places, and par-
ticularly that house where the Indians were not gone to bed.

As soon a the fire began to blaze, the poor frightened crea-
tures began to rush out to save their lives, but met with their
fate in the attempt; and especially at the door, where they
drove them back, the boatswain himself killing one or two with
his pole-axe ; the house being large, and many in it, he did not
care to go in, but called for a hand-grenado, and threw it among
them, which at first frightened them, but, when it burst, made
such havoc among them, that they cried out in a hideous man-
ner. In short, most of the Indians who were in the open part
of the house were killed or hurt with the grenado, except two
or three more who pressed to the door, which the boatswain
and two more kept, with their bayonets on the muzzles of
their pieces, and despatched all that came in their way: but
there was another apartment in the house, where the prince or
king, or whatever he was, and several others, were; and these
were kept in till the house, which was by this time all in a
light flame, fell in upon them, and they were smothered
together.

All this while they fired not a gun, because they would not
waken the,people faster than they could master them ; but the356 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
fire began to waken them fast enough, and our fellows were
glad to keep a little together in bodies; for the fire grew so
raging, all the houses being made of light, combustible stuff,
that they could hardly bear the street between them; and their
business was to follow the fire, for the surer execution: as fast
as the fire either forced the people out of those houses which
were burning, or frightened them out of others, our people were
ready at their doors to knock them on the head, still calling and
hallooing one to another to remember Tom Jeffry.

While this was doing, | must confess I was very uneasy,
and especially when I saw the flames of the town, which, it
being night, seemed to be just by me. My nephew, the cap
tain, who was roused by his men, seeing such a fire, was very
uneasy, not knowing what the matter was, or what danger |
was in, especially hearmg the guns too, for by this time they
began to use their fire-arms; a thousand thoughts oppressed
his mind concerning me and the supercargo, what would be-
come of us; and, at last, though he could ill spase any more
men, yet not knowing what exigence we might be in, he takes
another boat, and with thirteen men and himself comes on
shore to me.

He was surprised to see me and the supercargo in the boat
with no more than two men; and though he was glad that we
were well, yet he was in the same impatience with us to know
what was doing; for the noise continued, and the flame in-
creased : in short, it was next to an impossibility for any man
in the world to restrain their curiosity to know what had hap-
pened, or their concern for the safety of the men; in a word,
the captain told me he would go and help his men, let what
would come. I argued with him, as I did before with the
men, the safety of the ship, the danger of the voyage, the in-
terest of the owners and merchants, &c., and told him I and
the two men would go, and only see if we could at a distance
learn what was like to be the event, and come back and tell
him. It was all one to talk to my nephew, as it was to talk to
the rest before; he would go, he said; and he only wished he
had left but ten men in the ship, for he could not think of
having his men lost for want of help; he had rather lose the
ship, the voyage, and his life and all; and away he went.

J was no more able to stay behind now than I was to per-
suade them not to go; so, in short, the captain ordered two men
to row back the pinnace, and fetch twelve men more, leaving
the long-boat at an anchor; and that when they came back
six men should keep the two boats, and six more come after
us; so that he left only sixteen men in the ship; for the whole
ship’s company consisted of sixty-five men, whereof two were
iost in the late quarrel which brought this mischief on.

Being now on the march, you may be sure we felt little of
the ground we trod on; and being guided by the fire, we kept

aROBINSON CRUSOE. 357

no path, but went directly to the place of the flame. If the
noise of the guns was surprising to us before, the cries of the
poor people were now quite of another nature, and filled us
with horror. I must confess I was never at the sacking a
city, or at the taking a town by storm. I had heard of Oliver
Cromwell taking Drogheda, in Ireland, and_ killing man,
woman, and child; and I had read of Count Tilly sacking the
city of Magdebourg, and cutting the throats of twenty-two
thousand of all sexes; but I never had an idea of the thing it-
self before, nor is. it possible to describe it, or the horror that
was upon our minds at hearing it. However, we went on,
and at length came to the town, though there was no entering
the streets of it for the fire. The first object we met with was
the ruins of a hut or house, or rather the ashes of it, for the
house was consumed; and just before it, plain now to be seen
by the light of the fire, lay four men and three women killed,
and, as we thought, one or two more lay in the heap among
the fire; in short, there were such instances of rage alto-
peer barbarous, and of a fury something beyond what was
quman, that we thought it impossible our men could be guilty
of it; or if they were the authors of it, we thought they ought
to be every one of them put to the worst of deaths. Butthis was
not all; we saw the fire increased forward, and the cry went on
just as the fire went on; so that we were in the utmost con-
fusion. We advanced a little way farther; and, behold, to
our astonishment, three naked women, and crying in a most
dreadful manner, came flying as if they had wings, and after
them sixteen or seventeen men, natives, in the same terror and
consternation, with three of our English butchers in the rear;
who, when they could not overtake them, fired in among them,
and one that was killed by their shot fell down in our sight.
When the rest saw us, believing us to be their enemies, and
that. we would murder them as well as those that pursued
them, they set up a most dreadful shriek, especially the women,
and two of them fell down, as if already dead, with the fright.

My very soul shrunk within me, and my blood ran chill
1 my veins when I saw this; and I believe, had the three
English sailors that pursued them come on, I had made our
men kill them all; however, we took some ways to let the poor
fying creatures know that we would not hurt them; and im-
mediately they came up to us, and kneeling down, with their
hands lifted up, made piteous lamentation to us to save them,
which we let them know we would; whereupon they crete all
together in a huddle close behind us, as for protection. left
my men drawn up together, and charging them to hurt no-
body, but, if possible, to get at some of our people, and see
what devil it was possessed them, and what they intended to
do, and to command them off; assuring them that if they staid
till daylight, they would have a hundred thousand men about2 LE RE PIER ART, He

358 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

their ears; 1 say, I left them, and went among those flying
people, taking only two of our men with me; and there was
indeed a piteous spectacle among them; some of them had
their feet terribly burned, with trampling and running through
the fire; others their hands burned; one of the women had
fallen down in the fire, and was very much burned before she
could get out again; and two or three of the men had cuts in
their backs and thighs, from our men pursuing ; and another
was shot through the body, and died while I was there.

I would fain have learned what the occasion of all this was,
but I could not understand one word they said; though, by
signs, I perceived some of them knew not what was the occa-
sion themselves. I was so terrified in my thoughts at this
outrageous attempt, that I could not stay there, but went back
to my own men, and resolved to go into the middle of the town,
through the fire, or whatever might be in the way, and put an
end to it, cost what it would; accordingly, as I came back to
my men, I told them my resolution, and commanded them to
follow me; when at the very moment came four of our men, with
the boatswain at their head, roving over heaps of bodies they
had killed, all covered with blood and dust, as if they wanted
more people to massacre, when our men hallooed to them as
loud as they could halloo; and with much ado one of them
made them hear, so that they knew who we were, and came
up to us.

As soon as the boatswain saw us, he set up a halloo like a
shout of triumph, for having, as he thought, more help come;
and without waiting to hear me, ‘‘ Captain,’’ says he, ‘‘ noble
captain! I am glad you are come; we have not half done yet
villanous hell-hound dogs! I'll kill as-many of them as poor
‘Tom has hairs upon his head: we have sworn to spare none of
them; we’ll root out the very nation of them from the earth :”
and thus he ran on, out of breath too with action, and would
not give us leave to speak a word.

At last, raising my voice, that I might silence him a little,
*¢ Barbarous dog!’ said I, ‘‘ what are you doing ? I won’t have
one creature touched more, upon pain of death: I charge you,
upon your life, to stop your hands, and stand still here, or you
are a dead man this minute.” —‘‘ Why, sir,” says he, ‘‘ do you
know what you do, or what they have done? if you want a
reason for what we have done, come hither ;” and with that he
showed me the poor fellow hanging, with his throat cut.

I confess I was urged then myself, and at another time
would have been forward enough; but I thought they had car-
ried their rage too far, and remembered Jacob’s words to his
sons Simeon and Levi—‘‘ Cursed be their anger, for it was
fierce ; and their wrath, for it was cruel.”” But I had now a
new task upon my hands; for when the men I carried with me
saw the sight, as I had done, I had as much to do to restrain
them as I should have had with the others; nay, my nephewROBINSON CRUSOR, 359

himself fell in with them, and told me, in their hearing, that he
was only concerned for fear of the men being overpowered ;
and as to the people, he thought not one of them ought to live;
for they had all glutted themselves with the murder of the poor
man, and that they ought to be used like murderers. eon
these words, away ran eight of my men, with the boatswain
and his crew, to complete their bloody work ; and I, seeing it
quite out of my power to restrain them, came away pensive and
sad; for I could not bear the sight, much less the horrible
noise and cries of the poor wretches that fell into their hands.

I got nobody to come back with me but the super-
cargo and two men, aud with these walked back to the boat.
It was a very great piece of folly in me, I confess, to venture
back as it were alone; for as it began now to be almost day, and
the alarm had run over the country, there stood about forty
men, armed with lances and bows, at the little place where the
twelve or thirteen houses stood, mentioned before; but by acci-
dent I missed the place, and came directly to the sea-side ; and
by the time I got to the sea-side it was broad day : immediately
{ took the pinnace and went on board, and sent her back to as-
sist the men in what might happen.

I observed, about the time that I came to the boat-side, that
the fire was pretty well out, and the noise abated ; but in about
half an hour after I got on board, I heard a volley of our men’s
fire-arms,and saw a great smoke: this, as I understood after-
wards, was our men falling upon the men who, as _I said, stood
at the few houses on the way, of whom they killed sixteen or
seventeen, and set all the houses on fire, but did not meddle
with the women or children.

By the time the men got to the shore again with the pinnace,
our men began to appear ; they came dropping in, not in two
bodies, as they went, but straggling here and there in such a
1aanner, that a smail force of resolute men might have cut them
all off. But the dread of them was upon the whole country ;
and the men were surprised, and so frightened, that I believe a
hundred of them would have fled at-the sight of but five of our
men ; nor in all this terrible action was there a man that made
any considerable defence ; they were so surprised between the
terror of the fire and the sudden attack of our men in the dark,
that they knew not which way to turn themselves; for if they
fled one way, they were met by one party, if back again, by
another; so that they were every where knocked down: nor
did any of our men receive the least hurt, except one that
sprained his foot, and another that had one of his hands
burned. : :

I was very angry with my nephew, the captain, and, indeed,
with all the men, in my mind, but with him in particular, as
well for his acting so out of his duty, as commander of the
snip, and having the charge of the voyage upon him, as in his360 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

prompting, rather than cooling, the rage of his blind men, in
so bloody and cruel an enterprise. My nephew answered me
very respectfully, but told me that when he saw the body of the
poor seaman whom they had murdered in so cruel and barba-
rous a manner, he was not master of himself, neither could he
govern his passion; he owned he.should not have done so, as
he was commander of the ship; but as he was a man, and _ na-
ture moved him, he could not bear it. As for the rest of the
men, they were not subject to me at all, and they knew it well
enough; so they took no notice of my dislike.

The next day we set sail; so we never heard any more of it.
Our men differed in the account of the number they had killed ;
but according to the best of their accounts, put all together,
they killed or destroyed about one hundred and fifty people,
men, women, and children, and left not a house standing in
the town. As for the poor fellow Tom Jeffry, as he was quite
dead (for his throat was so cut that his head was half off), it
would do him no service to bring him away ; so they only took
him down from the tree, where he was hanging by one hand.

However just our men thought this action, I was against
them in it; and J always, after that time, told them God would
blast the voyage; for I looked upon all the blood they shed
that night to be murder in them; for though it is true that they
had killed Tom Jeffry, yet Jeffry was the aggressor; had broken
the truce, and had violated or debauched a young woman of
theirs, who came down to them innocently, and on the faith of
the public capitulation.

The boatswain defended this quarrel when we were after-
wards on board. He said it was true that we seemed to break
the truce, but really had not; and that the war was begun the
night before by the natives themselves, who had shot at us,
and killed one of our men without any just provocation; so
that as we were in a capacity to fight them now, we might
also be in a capacity to do ourselves justice upon them in an
extraordinary manner; that though the poor man had taken a
little liberty with the wench, he ought not to have been mur-
dered, and that in such a villanous manner; and that they did
nothing but what was just, and what the laws of God allowed
to be done to murderers.

One would think this should have been enough to have
warned us against going on shore amongst heathens and bar-
barians; but it is impossible to make mankind wise but at
their own expense ; and their experience seems to be always
of most use to them when it is dearest bought.

We were now bound to the Gulf of Persia, and from thence
to the coast of Coromandel, only to touch at Surat; but the
chief of the supercargo’s design lay at the Bay of Bengal;
where if he missed his business outward-bound, he was to go
up to China, and return to the coast as he came home.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 36]

The first disaster that befell us was in the Gulf of Persia,
where five of our men, venturing on shore on the Arabian side
of the gulf, were surrounded by the Arabi: ns, and either all

y into slavery ; the rest of the boat’s crew
were not able to rescue them, and had but just time to get off
their boat. I began to upbraid them with the just retribution
of Heaven in this case; but the boatswain very warmly told
me, he thought I went farther in my censures than 1 could
show any warrant for in Scripture; and referred to Luke xiii.
4., where our Savior intimates that those men on whom the
tower of Siloam fell were not sinners above all the Galileans ;
but that which put me to silence in the case was, that not one
of these five men who were now lost were of those who went cn
shore to the massacre of Madagascar; so I always calied it,
though our men could not bear to hear the word massacre with
any patience.

But my frequent preaching to them on the subject had
worse consequences than I expected ; and the boatswain, who
had been the head of the attempt, came up boldly to me one
time, and told me he found that I brought that affair contin-
ually upon the stage; that I made unjust reflections upon it,
and had used the men very ill on that account, and himself in
particular; that as 1 was but a passenger, and had no com-
mand in the ship, or concern in the voyage, they were not
obliged to bear it; that.they did not know but I might have
some ill design in my head, and perhaps to call them to an
account for it when they came to England; and that, there-
fore, unless [ would resolve to have done with it, and also not
to concern myself any further with him, or any of his affairs,
he would leave the ship; for he did not think it was safe to sail
with me among them.

I heard him patiently enough till he had done, and then told
him, that I confessed [had all along opposed the massacre of
Madagascar, and that | had, on all occasions, spoken my mind
yeely about it, though not more upon him than any of the
‘est ; that as to having no command in the ship, that was tric;
r0r did I exercise any authority, only took the liberty of speak-
ng my mind in things which publicly concerned us all; an
what concern I had in the voyage was none of his business ;
that I was a considerable owner in the ship; in that claim, |
conceived I had a right to speak even further than I had done,
and would not be accountable to him or any one el: and ve-
gan to be a little warm with him. He made but hitile fg
me at that time, and I thought the affair had been over. e
were at this time in the road at Bengal; and being willing to
see the place, I went on shore with the supercargo, in the
ship’s boat, to divert myself; and towards youre ee a
paring to go on board, when one of the men came to me,

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3862 : ROBINSON CRUSOE.

more. Any one may guess what a surprise 1 was in, at so jn
solent a message; and [asked the man who bade him delives
that message tome. He told me, the cockswain. I said ne
more to the fellow, but bade him let them know he had deliv
ered his message, 2nd that. had given him no answer to it.

I immediately went and found out the supercargo, and told
him the story; adding, what I presently foresaw, that there
would be a mutiny in the ship, and entreated him to go im-
mediately on board the ship in an Indian boat, and acquaint
the captain of it. But I might have spared this mtelhgence ;
for Heirs I had spoken to him on shore, the-matter was effect-
ed on board. The boatswain, the gunner, the carpenter, and
all the inferior officers, as soon as I was gone off in the boat,
came up and desired to speak with the captain; and there
the boatswain, making a long harangue, and repeating all he
had said to me, told the captain, in a few words, that as I was
now gone peaceably on shore, they were loath to use any v10-
lence with me, which, if I had not gone on shore, they would
otherwise have done, to oblige me to have gone ; they there-
fore thought fit to tell him, that as they shipped themselves to
serve in the ship under his command, they would perform it
well and faithfully; but if I would not quit the ship, or the
captain ob!:ge me to quit it, they would all leave the ship, and
sail no farther with him; and at that word all, he turned his
face toward the mainmast, which was, it seems, the signal
agreed on between them, at which all the seamen, being got
together, there cried out, ‘‘ One and all! one and all!”

‘My nephew, the captain, was a man of spirit, and of great
presence of mind; and though he was surprised, you may be
sure, at the thing, yet he told them calmly that he would con-
sider of the matter; but that he could do nothing in it till he had
spoken to me about it. He used some arguments with them
to show them the unreasonableness and injustice of the thing ;
but it was all in vain; they swore and shook hands round be-
fore his face, that they would all go on shore, unless he would
engage to them not to suffer me to come any more on board
the ship.

This was a hard article upon him, who knew his obligation
to me, and did not know how I might take-it: so he began to
talk smartly to them; .told them that I was a very considerable
owner of the ship, and that, in justice, he could not put me out
of my own house; that this was next door to serving me as
the famous pirate Kidd had done, who made a mutiny in the
ship, set the captain on shore on an uninhabited island, and
ran away with the ship; that let them go into what ship they
would, if ever they came to England again, it would cost them
very dear; that the ship was mine, and that he could not put
me out of it; and that he would rather lose the ship, and the
voyage too, than disoblige me so much; so they might do asROBINSON CRUSOE. 363

they pleased ; however, he would go on shore and talk with me,
and myited the boatswain to go with him, and perhaps they
might accommodate the matter with me. But they all rejected
the proposal, and said they would have nothing to do with me
any more; and-if [ came on board, they would all go on shore.
‘“* Well,” said the captain, “if you are all of this mind, let me
go on shore and talk with him.” So away he came to me
with this account, a little after the message had been brought
to me from the cockswain.

I was very glad to see my nephew, 1 must confess; for I
was not without apprehensions that they would confine him by
violence, set sail, and run away with the ship; and then I had
been stripped naked in a remote country, having nothing to
help myself; in short, I had been in a worse case than when I
was alone im the island. But they had not come that length,
it seems, to my Satisfaction; and when my nephew told me
what they had said to him, and how they had sworn and shook
hands that they would, one and all, leave the ship if | was suf-
fered to come on board, I told him he should not be concerned
at it at all, for | would stay on shore; { only desired he would
take care and send me all my necessary things on shore, and
leave me a sufficient sum of money, and | would find my way
to England as well as I could.

This was a heavy piece of news to my nephew, but there
was no way to help it but to comply ;'so, 1n short, he went on
board the ship again, and satisfied the men that his uncle had
yielded to their importunity, and had sent for his goods from
on board the ship; so that the matter was over in a few hours,
the men returned to their duty, and I began to consider what
course [ should steer.

I was now alone in the most remote part of the world, as I
think I may call it, for I was near three thousand leagues by
sea farther off from England than I was at my island; only, it
is true, I might travel here by land over the Great Mogul’s
country to Surat, might go from thence to Bassora by sea, up
the Gulf of Persia, and take the way of the caravans, over the
Dosert of Arabia, to Aleppo and Scanderoon ; from thence by
sea again to Italy, and so over land into France ; and this put
together might at least be a full diameter of the globe, or more.

‘T had another way before me, which was to wait for some
English ships, which were coming to Bengal from Achin, on
the island of Sumatra, and get passage on board them for Eng-
land. But as I came hither without any concern with the
English East India Company, so it would be difficult to go
from hence without their license, unless with great favor of the
captains of the ships, or the Company’s factors; and to both f
was an utter stranger. : : eet

Here I had the mortification to see the ship set sail without
me; atreatment I think. a man in my circumstances scarceERT oH

sete 1 SIE MD

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oy SANs

   

564 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

ever met with, except from pirates-running away with a ship,
and setting those that would not agree with their villany on
shore. Indeed this was next door to it, both ways; however,
my nephew left me two servants, or rather one companion and
one servant; the first was clerk to the purser, whom he en-
gaged to go with me, and the other was his own servant. [ took
me also a good lodging in the house of an Englishwoman,
where several merchants lodged, some French, two Italians, or
rather Jews, and one Englishman: here I was handsomely
enough entertained ; and that 1 might not be said to run risuly
upon any thing, I staid here above nine months, considering
what course to take, and how to manage myself. I had some
English goods with me of value, and a considerable sam of mon-
ey ; my nephew furnishing me with a thousand pieces-of-eight,
and a letter of credit for more, if [ had occasion, that I might
not be straitened, whatever might happen.

I quickly disposed of my goods to advantage; and, as [
originally intended, I bought here some very good diamonds,
which, of all other things, were the most proper. for me, in my
present circumstances, because I could always carry my whole
estate about me.

After a long stay here, and many proposals made for my re-
turn to England, but none falling out to my nnd, the English
merchant who lodged with me, and whom I had contracted an
lntimate acquaintance with, came to me one morning: ‘‘ Coun-
tryman,’’ says he, ‘‘ I have a project to communicate to yon,
which, as it suits. with my thoughts, may, for aught I know
suit with yours also, when you shall have thoroughly consider-
ed it. Here weare posted, you by accident, and I by my own
choice, in a part of the world very remote from our own coun-
try ; but it is in a country where, by us who understand trade
and business, a great deal of money is to be got. If you will
put one thousand pounds to my one thousand pounds, we will
hire a ship here, the first we can get to our minds; you shall
be captain, Ill be merchant, and we’ll go a trading voyage to
China; for what should we stand still for? he whole world is
in a motion, rolling round and round ; all the creatures of God,
heavenly bodies and earthly, are busy and diligent ; why should
we be idle?’ There are no drones in the world but men; why
should we be of that number ?”’

I liked this proposal very well; and the more because it seem-
ed to be expressed with-so much good will, and in so friendly
a manner. I will not say but that I might, by my loose, un-
hinged circumstances, be the fitter to embrace a proposal for
trade, or indeed any thing else ; whereas, otherwise, trade was
none of my element. However, I might perhaps say with some
truth, that if trade was not my element, rambling was ; and no
proposal for seeing any part of the world, which I had never
seen before, could possibly come amiss to me.
lt was, however, some time before we could get a ship toROBINSON CRUSOE.

our minds, and when we had got a vessel, it was not easy to
get English sailors; that is to say, so many as were necessary
to govern the voyage and manage the sailors which we should
pick up there. After some time we got a mate, a boatswain,
and a gunner, English; a Dutch carpenter, and three fore-
mast-men. With these we found we could do well enough,
having Indian seamen, such as they were, to make up.

There are so many travellers who have wrote the history of
their voyages and travels this way, that it would be very little
Jiversion to any body to give a long account of the places we
went to, and the people who inhabit there: these things I
leave to others, and refer the reader to those journals ana
travels of Englishmen, of which many I find are: published,
and more promised every day: it is enough for me to tell you
that we made this voyage to Achin, in the island of Sumatra,
and from thence to Siam, where we exchanged some of our
wares for opium and some arrack; the first a commodity
which bears a great price among the Chinese, and which, at
that time, was much wanted there. In a word, we went up to
Suskan, made a very great voyage, were eight months out,
and returned to Bengal ; and I was very well satisfied with my
adventure. I observe that our people in England often admire
how officers, which the Company send into India, and the
merchants which generally stay there, get such very great.
estates as they do, and sometimes come home worth sixty or
seventy thousand pounds at a time; but it is no wonder, or at
least we shall see so much further into it, when we consider
the innumerable ports and places where they have a free com-
merce, that it oo be none; and much less it will be so when
we consider that at those places and ports where the English
ships come, there is such great and constant demand for the
growth of all other countries, that there is a certain vent for
the returns, as well as a market abroad for the goods car-
ried out.

In short, we made a very good voyage, and I got so much
money by my first adventure, and such an insight into the
method of getting more, that had I been twenty years younger,
I should have been tempted to have staid here and sought no
further for making any fortune; but what was all this to a man
upwards of threescore, that was rich enough, and came abroad
more in obedience to a restless desire of seeing the world,
than a covetous desire of gaining by it? _ And, indeed, I think
it is with great justice I now call it restless desire, for 1t was
so. When I was at home, I was restless to go abroad; and
when I was abroad, I was restless to be at home. I say, what
was this gain to me? I was rich enough already, nor had I
any uneasy desires about getting more money ; and therefore
the profit of the voyage to me was of no great force for ihe
prompting me forward to further undertakings; hence .Pe EPR ie ae ARS

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866 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

thought that by this voyage I had made no progress at all,
because I was come back, as I might call it, to the place from
whence I came, as to a home; whereas my eye, which, like
that which Solomon speaks of, was never satisfied with seeing,
was still more desirous of wandering and seeing. I was come
into a part of the world which I was never in before, and that
part, in particular, which I had heard much of, and was re-
solved to see as much of it as I could; and then I thought |
might say I had seen all the world that was worth seeing.

But my fellow-traveller and I had different notions: I do
not name this to insist on my own, for I acknowledge his were
the most just, and the most suited to the end of a merchant’s
life ; who, when he is abroad upon adventures, it is his wisdom
to stick to that, as the best thing for him, which he is like to
get the most money by. My new friend kept himself to the
nature of the thing, and would have been content to have gone,
fike a carrier’s horse, always to the same inn, backward and
forward, provided he could, as he called it, find his account in
it. On the other hand, mine was the notion of a mad, rambling
boy, that never cares to see a thing twice over. But this was
not all: I hada kind of impatience upon me to be nearer
home, and yet the most unsettled resolution imaginable which
way to go. In the interval of these consultations, my friend,

-who was always upon the search for busmess, proposed

another voyage to me among the Spice Islands, and to bring
home a loading of cloves from the Manillas, or thereabouts;
places, indeed, where the Dutch trade, but islands belonging
partly to the Spaniards; though we went not so far, but to
some other, where they have not the whole power, as they
have at Batavia, Ceylon, &c.

We were not long in preparing for this voyage; the chief
difficulty was in bringing me to come into it: however, at
last, nothing else offering, and finding that really stirring about
and trading, the profit being so great, and, as I may say, cer-
tain, had more pleasure in it, and had more satisfaction to my
mind, than sitting still, which, to me especially, was the un-
happiest part of Fite, I resolved on this voyage too, which we
made very successfully, touching at Borneo, and several
islands whose names I do not remember, and came home in
about five months. We sold our spice, which was chiefly
cloves and some nutmegs, to the Persian merchants, who car-
ried them away to the gulf; and making near five of: one, we
really got a great deal of money.

My friend, when we made up this account, smiled at me.
“ Well now,” said he, with a sort of agreeable insult upon my
indolent temper, ‘‘is not this better than walking about here,
like a man of nothing to do, and spending our time in staring
at the nonsense and ignorance of the pagans?”—‘‘ Why
truly,” says I, “ my friend, I think it is, and I begin to be aROBINSON CRUSOE. © 367

convert to tue principles of merchandising ; but I must tell
you,’ said I, ‘‘ by the way, you do not know what [ am doing;
for if l once conquer my backwardness, and embark heartily,
as old as I am, | shall harass you up and down the world till I
tire you; for I shall pursue it so eagerly, I shall never let you
lie still.’’ g

But,—to be short with my speculations,—a little while after
this there came in a Dutch ship from Batavia; she was a
coaster, not a European trader, of about two hundred tons
burden; the men, as they pretended, having been so sickly,
that the captain had not hands enough to go to sea with, he
lay by at Bengal; and having, it seems, got_money enough,
or being willing, for other reasons, to go for Europe, he gave
public notice he would sell his ship. ‘This came to my ears
before my new partner heard of it, and I had a great mind to
buy it; so I went to him, and told him of it. He considered
awhile, for he was no rash man neither; but musing some
time, he replied, ‘She is a little too big; but, however, we
will have her.” Accordingly, we bought the ship, and agree-
ing with the master, we paid for her, and took possession
When we had done so, we resolved to entertain the men, if we
could, to join them with those we had, for the pursuing our
business; but on a sudden,—they having received, not their
wages, but their share of the money, as we afterwards learnt,—
not one of them was to be found; we inquired much abou
them, and at length were told that they were all gone together
by land to Agra, the great city of the Mogul’s residence, and
from thence to travel to Surat, and go by sea to the Gulf of
Persia.

Nothing had so much troubled me a good while as that 1
should miss the opportunity of going with them ; for such a
ramble, I thought, and in such company as would both have
guarded and diverted me, would have suited mightily with my
great design; and I should have both seen the world and gone
homewards too: but I was much better satisfied a few days af-
ter, when I came to know what sort of fellows they were ; for,
in short, their history was, that this man they called captain
was the gunner only, not the commander; that they had been
a trading vovage, in which they had been attacked on shore by
some of the Malays, who had killed the captain and three of
his men; and that after the captain was killed, “hese men,
eleven in number, had resolved to run away with ihe sh:p,
which they did, and brought her to Bengal, leaving the mate
and five men more on shore ; of whom hereatter.

Well, let them get the ship how they would, we came hon-
estly by her, as we thought, though we did not, 1 confess, ex~
amine into thingsso exactly as we ought ; for we never Inq ired
any thing of the seamen, who would certainly have faltered
in their account, contradicted one another, and perhaps con-
iradicted themselves; or one how or other we should have hadeT

 

IRR IRM Re? ae ARRE

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Of gemncrmete O5UE T

368 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

reason to have suspected them ; but the man showed us a bill
of sale for the ship, to one Emanuel ‘lostershoven, or some
such name, for I suppose it was all a forgery, and called him-
self by that name, and we could not contradict him ; and witha}
having no suspicion of the thing, we went through with our
bargain.

We picked up some more English sailors here after this,
and some Dutch; and now we resolved for a second voyage te
the south-east for cloves, &&c., that is to say, among the Philip-
pine and Molucca Isles ; and, in short, not to fill up this part
of my story with trifles, when what is to come isso remarkable,
1 spent, from first to last, six years in this country, trading
from port to port, backward and forward, and w very good
success, and was now the last year with my new partner, go-
ing, in the ship above mentioned, on a voyage to China, but
designing first to Siam, to buy rice.

In this voyage, being by contrary winds obliged to beat up
and down a great while in the Straits of Malacca, and among
tie islands, we were no sooner got clear of those difficult seas
than we found our ship had sprung a leak, and we were not
able, by all our industry, to find out where it was. ‘This forced
us to make some port, and my partner, who knew the country
better than I did, directed the captain to put into the river of
Cainbodia ; for i had made the English mate, one Mr. ‘Uhomp-
son, captain, not being willing to take the charge of the ship
upon myself. This river lies on the north side of the great
bay or gulf which goes up toSiam. While we were here, and
going often on shore for refreshment, there comes to me one
day an Englishman, and he was, it seems, a gunner’s-mate on
board an English East India ship which rode in the same river,
up at or near the city of Cambodia; what brought him hither
we knew not; but he comes to me, and speaking English,
‘‘ Sir,” says he, ‘‘ you are a stranger to me, and [ to you, but
T have something to tell you that very nearly concerns you.”

[ looked steadfastly at him a good while, and thought at first
I had known him; but I did not. ‘If it very nearly concerns
me,” said I, ‘‘and not yourself, what moves you to tell it to
me ?’—** T am moved,” says he, ‘‘ by the imminent danger
you are in, and, for aught I see, you have no knowledge of
it.”’—‘* [ know no danger | amin,” says I, ‘‘ but that my ship is
leaky, and I cannot find it out ; but I intend to lay ber aground
to-morrow, to see if I can find it.’’—** But, sir,’”’ says he, ‘‘ leaky
or not leaky, find it or not find it, you will be wiser than to
lay your ship on shore to-morrow, when you hear what I have
to say to you: do you know, sir,”’ said he, ‘the town of Cam-
bodia lies about fifteen leagues up this river ? and there are two
.arge English ships about five leagues on this side, and three
Dutch.” —‘ Well,” said I, ‘‘ and what is that to me ?”—** Why,
sir,” said he, “is it for a man that is upon such adventures asRUBINSON CRUSOE. 389
you are, to come into a port and not examine first what ships
there are there, and whether he is able to-deal with them? i
suppose you do not think you are a match for them?” I was
amused very much at his discourse, but not amazed at it, for I
could not conceive what he meant; and I turned short upon
him, and said, ‘‘ Sir, [ wish you would explain yourself; I can-
not imagine what reason I have to be afraid of.any of the Com-
pany’s ships, or Dutch ships: I am no interloper; what can
they have to say tome?’ He.looked like a man half angry
and half pleased, and pausing awhile, but smiling, ‘‘ Well, sit,”
says he, ‘‘if you think yourself secure, you must take your
chance ; I am sorry your fate should blind you against good ad-
vice; but assure yourself, if you do not put to sea inimediately,
you will the very next tide be attacked by five long-boats full
of men, and perhaps, if you are taken, you will be hanged
for a pirate, and the particulars be examined afterwards. I
thought, sir,’’ added he, ‘‘I should have met with a better re-
ception than this, for doing you a piece of service of such im-
portance.’ —‘‘I can never be ungrateful,” said I, “for any
service, or to any man that offers me any kindness; but it is
past my comprehension what they should have such a design
upon me for: however, since you say there is no time to be lost,
and that there is some villanous design on hand against me, |
will go on board this minute, and put to sea immediately, if my
men can stop the leak, or if we can swim without stopping it:
but, sir,” said I, ‘‘ shall I go away ignorant of the cause of all
this? Can you give me no further light into it ?”—‘*‘ I can tell
you but part of the story, sir,” says he; ‘ but I have a Dutch
seaman here with me, and I believe I could persuade him to
tell you the rest; but there is scarce time for it: but the short
of the story is this, the first part of which, I suppose, you
know well enough, viz. that you was with this ship at Suma-
tra; that there your captain was murdered by the Malays,
with three of his men; and that you, or some of those that
were on board with you, ran away with the ship, and are since
turned pirates. This is the sum of the story; and you will all
be seized as pirates, I can assure you, and executed with very
little ceremony ; for you know merchant-ships show but little
law to pirates, if they get them into their power.’’—‘‘ Now you
speak plain English,” said I, ‘ and I thank you; and though
I know nothing that we have done like what you talk of, for [
am sure we came honestly and fairly by the ship, yet seeing such
a work is doing, as you say, and that you seem to mean honestly,
I will be upon my guard.” —‘* Nay, sir,’’ says he, ‘do not
talk of being upon your guard; the best defence is, to be out of
the danger ; if you have any regard for your life, and the lives
of all your men, put to sea, without fail, at high water ; and as
you have a whole tide before you, you will be gone too far out
before they can come down; for they will come away at highsoNt

—

Te ee

SCR MRME RENEE NE: TO

4

ROBINSON CRUSOE.

water, and as they have twenty miles to come, you will get near
two hours of them by the difference of the tide, not reckoning
the length of the way ; besides, as they are only boats, and not
ships, they will not venture to follow you far out to sea, espe-
cially if it blows.’’—** Well,” said I, ‘* you have been very kind
in this; what shall I do for you to make you amends ?”—“ Sir,”
says he,:‘‘ you may not be willing to make me any amends, be-
cause you may not be convinced of the truth of it: [ will make
an offer to yqu; I have nineteen months’ pay due to me on
board the ship———, which I came out of England in; and the
Dutchman that is with me has seven months’ pay due to him;
if you will make good our pay to us, we will go along with you:
if you find nothing more in it, we will desire no more; but if
we do convince you that we have saved your lives, and the
ship, and the lives of all the men in her, we will leave the rest
to you.”

I consented to this readily, and went immediately on board,
and the two men with me. As soon as I came to the ship’s
side, my partner, who was on board, came out on the quarter
deck, and called to me, with a,great deal of joy, ““O ho! Oho.
we have stopped the leak! we have stopped the leak!”
—‘‘Say you so?” said I, ‘thank God; but weigh anchor
then immediately.”—‘‘ Weigh!” says he: ‘‘ what do. you
mean by that? What is the matter ?”’—‘‘ Ask no questions,”
said I; “but all hands to work, and weigh without losing a
minute.’’ He was surprised; but, however, he called the cap
tain, and he immediately ordered the anchor to be got up,
and though the tide was not quite down, yet a little land-
breeze blowing, we stood out to sea. Then | called him into
the cabin, and told him the story; and we called in the men,
and they told us the rest of it: but as it took up a great deal
of time, before we had done a seaman comes to the cabin-door,
and called out to us that tie captain bade him tell us we were
chased. ‘‘Chased!” saysI; “ by what ?’:—“ By five sloops,
or boats,” says the fellow, ‘ full of men.”—‘‘ Very well,” said
I; “then itis apparent there is something init.” In the next
place [ ordered all our men to be called up, and told them
there was a design to seize the ship, and to take us for pirates,
and asked them if they would stand by us, and by one another ;
the men answered cheerfully one and all that they would live
and die with us. Then I asked the captain what way he
thought best for us to manage a fight with them; for resist
them I was resolved we would, and that to the last drop. He
said readily that the way was to keep them off with our great
shot as long as we could, and then to fire at them with our
small arms, to keep them from boarding us: but when neither
of these would do any longer, we should retire to our close
quarters ; perhaps they had not materials to break open our
bulk-heads, or get in upon us.

‘The gunner had, in the mean time, orders to bring twoROBINSON CRUSOE. Se

guns to bear fore and aft, out of the steerage, to clear the deck,
and load them with musket-bullets and small pieces of old
iron, and what came next to hand; and thus we made ready
for fight: but all this while we kept out to sea, with wind
enough, and could see the boats ata distance, being five large
long-boats, following us with all the sail they could make.

‘Two of those boats (which by our g sses we could see were
English) out sailed the rest, were near two leagues ahead of
them, and gained upon us cons ibly, so that-we found they
would come up with us; wu V we fired a gun without
ball, to intimate that they should bring to: and we put out a
flag of truce, as a signal for parley ; but they came crowding
after us, till they came 1in shot, when we took in our white
flag, they having made no answer to it, and hung out a red
flag, and fired at them with a shot. Notwithstanding this,
they came on till they were near enough to call to them with
a speaking-trumpet which we had_on. board; so we called to
them, and bade them keep off, at their peru.

It was all one; they crowded after us, and endeavored to
come under our stern, so as to board us-on our quarter; upon
which, seeing they we lute for mischief, and depended
upon the strength that to! owed them, | ordered to bring the
ship to, so that they lay wpon our broadside ; when imme-
diately we fired five guns at them, one of which had been
jevelled so true as to carry away the stern of the hindermost
boat, and bring them to the necessity of taking down their
sail, and running all to the head of the boat to keep her from
sinking ; so she lay by, and had enough of it; but seeing the
foremost boat crowd on after us, we made ready to fire at her
in particular. While this was doing, one of the three boats
that was behind, being forwarder than the other two, made up
to the boat which we had disabled, to relieve her, and we could
see her take out. the men: we called again to the foremost
boat, and offered a truce, to parley again, and to know what
her business was with us; but had no answer, only she crowd-
ed close under our stern.. Upon this our gunner, who was a
very dextrous fellow, run out his two chase-guns, and fired
again at her, but the shot missing, the men in the boat shouted,
waved their caps, and came on; but the gunner, getting
quickly ready again, fired among them a second time, one
shot of which, though it missed the boat itself, yet fell in

5

among the men, and we could easily see had done a great deal
of mischief among them; but we took no notice of that, wore
the ship again, and brought our quarter to bear upon them,
and firing three guns more, We found the. boat was almost
split to pieces; in particular her rudder and a piece of per
stern was shot quite away: SO they handed her sail immedi
ately, and were in great disorder. But to complete their ae:
fortune, our gunner let fly two guns at them again; where hei

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372

hit them we could not tell, but we found the boat was sinking
and some of the men already in the water: upon this I imme
diately manned out our pinnace, which we had kept close by
our side, with orders to pick up some of the men, if they could,
and save them from drowning, and immediately come on
board the ship with them, because we saw the rest of the
boats began tocome up. Our men in the pinnace followed
their orders, and took up three men, one of whom was just
drowning, and it was a good while before we could recover
him. As soon as they were on board, we crowded all the sail
we could make, and stood farther out to sea; and we found
that when the other three boats came up to the first, they gave
over their chase.

Being thus delivered from a danger, which, though I knew
not the reason of it, yet seemed to be much greater than I ap-
prehended, I resolved that we should change our course, and
not let any one know whither we were going; so we stood out
to sea eastward, quite out of the course of all furopean ships,
whether they were bound to China, or any where else, within
the commerce of the European nations.

When we were at sea, we began to consult with the two
seamen, and inquire what the meaning of all this should be ;
and the Dutchman let us into the secret at once, telling us
tnat the fellow that sold us the ship, as we said, was no more
than a thief, that had run away with her. ‘Then he told us
how the captain—whose name too he told us, though I do not
remember it now—was treacherously murdered by the natives
on the coast of Malacca, with three of his men, and that he,
this Dutchman, and four more, got into the woods, where they
wandered about a great while, till at length he, in particular,
in a miraculous manner, made his escape, and swam off to a
Dutch ship, which, sailing near the shore in its way from
China, had sent their boat on shore for fresh water; that he
durst not come to that part of the shore where the boat was,
but made shift in the night to take the water farther off, and
swimming a great while, at last the ship’s boat took him up.

He then told us that he went to Batavia, where two of the
seamen belonging to the ship arrived, baving deserted the rest
in their travels, and gave an account that the fellow who had
run away with the ship sold her at Bengal to a set of pirates,
which were gone a cruising in her; and that they had already
taken an English ship and two Dutch ships-very richly laden.

This latter part was found to concern us directly, though we
knew it to be false: yet, as my partner said very justly, if we
had fallen into their hands, and they had had such a prepossession
against us beforehand, it had been in vain for us to have defend-
ed ourselves, or to hope for any good quarter at their hands ; and
especially considering that our accusers had been our judges,
and that we could have expected nothing from them but whatKGBINSON CRUSOE.

raze would have dictated, and an ungoverned passion have exe-
ge 2)
cuted; and therefore it was his opinion we should go directly
© et - s 2 ee i r +3 mee J
back to Bengal, from whence we came, without putting In atany
port whatever ; because there we could give a good account of
ourselves, could prove where we were when the ship put in, of
whom we bought her, and the like; and, which was more than
all the rest, if we were put upon the necessity of bringing it
before the proper judges, we should be sure to have some jus-
tice, and not to be hanged first and judged afterwards.
I was some time of my partner’s opinion; but after a little
more serious thinking, I told him I thought it was a very great

g

hazard for us to attempt returning to Bengal, for that we were
on the wrong side of the Straits of Malacca, and that if the
alarm was given, we should be sure to be waylaid on every
side, as well by the Dutch of Batavia as the English elsewhere ;
that if we should be taken, as it were, running away, we
should even condemn ourselves, and there would want no more
evidence to destroy us. [also asked the English sailor’s opin-
ion, who said he was of my mind, and that we should certainly
be taken. ‘I'his danger a little startled my partner, and all the
ship’s company, and we immediately resolved to go away to
the coast of 'onquin, and so on to the coast of China; and,
pursuing the first design as to trade, find some way or other to
dispose of the ship, and come back in some of the vessels of
the country, such as we could get. This was approved of
as the best method for our security ; and accordingly we
steered away N. N. E., keeping above fifty leagues off from
the usual course to the eastward. This, however, put us to
some inconvenience; for, first, the winds, when we came to
that distance from the shore, seemed to be more steadily against

us, blowing almost trade, as we call it, from the E. and i. N.
E., so that we were a long while upon our voyage, and we were
but ill provided with victuals for so long a run; and, which
was still worse, there was some danger that those English and
Dutch ships, whose boats pursued us, whereof some were
bound that way, might be got in before us, and if not, some
other ship bound to China might have information of us from
them, and pursue us with the same vigor.

I must confess I was now very uneasy, and thought myself,
including the Jate escape from the long-boat’, to have been in
the most dangerous condition that ever I was in through my
past life ; for whatever ill circumstances I had been in, I was
never pursued for a thief before ; nor had I ever done any thing
that merited the name of dishonest of fraudulent, much less
thievish; I had chiefly been my Own enemy, OF, as I may
rightly say, I had been nobody’s enemy but my own ; but now
I was embarrassed in the worst condition imaginable ;_ for
though I was perfectly innocent, I was In bo condition to make
that annocence appear ; and if I had been taken, it had been uns
der a supposed guilt of the worst kind. ‘This made me verySTA erence ER He

oo tunes amcrear

874 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

anxious to make an escape, though which way to do it I knew
not, or what port or place we could goto. My partner, seeing
me thus dejected, though he was the most. concerned at first,
began to encourage me, and describing to me the several ports
of that coast, told me he would put in on the coast of Cochin-
China, or the Bay of Tonquin, intending to go afterwards to
Macao, a town once in possession of the Portuguese, and
where still a great many European families resided; and par-
ticularly the missionary priests usually went thither, in order
to their going forward to China.

Hither, then, we resolved to go; and accordingly, though
after a tedious and irregular course, and very much straitened
for provisions, we came within sight of the coast very early in
the morning; and upon reflection on the past circumstances
we were in, and the danger if we had not escaped, we resolved
to put into a small river, which, however, had depth enough
of water for us, and to see if we could, either over land or by
the ship’s pinnace, come to know what ships were in any
port here aotie This happy step was, indeed, our deliv-
erance ; for though we did not immediately see any uropean
ships in the Bay of Tonquin, yet the next morning there came
into the bay two Dutch ships; and a third, without any colors
spread out, but which we believed to be a Dutchman, passed
by at about two leagues’ distance, steering for the coast of
China; and in the afternoon went by two English ships steer-
ing the same course; and thus we thought we saw ourselves
beset with enemies both one way and the other. ‘The place we
were in was wild and barbarous; the people thieves, even by
occupation or profession; and though, it is true, we had not
much to seek of them, and, except getting a few provisions,
cared not how little we had to do with them, yet it was with
much difficulty that we kept ourselves from being insulted by
them several ways. We were in a small river of this country,
within a few leagues of its utmost limits northward; and by
our boat we coasted north-east, to the point of land which
opéns the great Bay of Tonquin; and it was in this beating
up along the shore that we discovered. we were surrounded
with enemies. The people we were among were the most
barbarous of all the inhabitants of the coast, having no corre
spondence with any other nation, and dealing only in fish and
oil, and such gross commodities; and it may be particularly
seen that they are the most barbarous of any of the inhabit-
ants. Among other customs, they have this one, viz. that if
any vessel has the misfortune to be shipwrecked .upon their
coast, they presently make the men all prisoners or slaves
and it was not long before we found a piece of their kindness
this way, on the occasion following.

have observed above, that our ship sprung a leak at sea
and that we could not find it out; and it happened that, as jROBINSON CRUSOE. 375

have said, 1t was stopped unexpectedly, in the happy minute
of our being to be seized by the Dutch and Englisb ships in
the Bay of Siam; yet as we did not find the ship so perfectly
tight and sound as we desired, we resolved, while we were at
this place, to lay her on shore, and-take out what heavy things
we had on board, and clean her bottom; and, if possible, to
find out where the leaks were. Accordingly, having lightened
the ship, and brought all our guns and other movables to one
side, we tried to bring her down, that we might come at her
bottom; but, on second thoughts, we did not care to lay her
on dry ground, neither could we find out a proper place for it

The inhabitants, who had never been acquainted with such
a sight, came wondering down the shore to look at us; and
seeing the ship lie down on one side in such a manner, and
heeling in. towards the shore, and not seeing our men, who
were at work on her bottom with stages, and with their boats
on the off side, they presently concluded that the ship was
cast away, and lay so fast onthe ground. On this supposition,
they all came about us in two or three hours’ time, with ten or
twelve large boats, having some of them eight, some ten men
in a boat, intending, no doubt, to have come on board and
plundered the ship; and if they had found us there, to have
carried us away for slaves to their king, or whatever they
call him, for we knew nothing of their governor.

When they came up to the ship, and began to row round
her, they discovered us all hard at work on the outside of the
ship’s bottom and side, washing, and graving, and stopping,
as every seafaring man knows how. ‘hey stood for a while
gazing at us; and we, who were a little surprised, could nor
imagine what their design was; but being willing to be sure
we took this opportunity to get some of us into the ship, aud
others to hand down arms and ammunition to those that were
at work to defend themselves with, if there should be occasion
and it was no more than need; for in less than a quarter of an
hour’s consultation, they agreed, it seems, that the ship was
really a wreck; and that we were all at work endeavoring to
gave her. or to save our lives by the help of our boats. and
«vhen we handed our arms into the boats, they concluded, by
that motion, that we were endeavoring to save some of our
woods; upon this they took it for granted we all. belonged to
them, and.away they came directly upon our men, as if it had
been in a line of batile.

Our men seeing so many of them, began to be frightened,—
for we lay but in an ill posture to fight,—and cried out to us to
know what they should do. I immediately called to the men
that worked upon the stages, to slip them down, and get up
ihe side into the ship, and bade those in the boat to row round,
and come on board; and those few of us who were on board
worked with all the strength and hands we had to bring the shipAe IME EIT aS IS,

TP i ser A IRR Ao

LET Ateemeensg 7

ROBINSUN CRUSOE.

 

to rights; but, however, neithér the men upon the stages nor
those in the boats could do as they were ordered, betore the
Cochin-Chinese were upon them; and two of their boats
boarded our long-boat, and ‘began. to lay hold of the men as
their prisoners.

The first man they laid hold of was an English seaman, a
stout, strong fellow, who, having a musket in his hand, never
offered to fire it, but laid it down in the boat, like a fool, as I
thought; but he understood his business better than I could
teach him, for he grappled the pagan, and dragged him by
main force out of their boat into ours, where, taking him by
the ears, he beat his head so against the boat’s gunnel, that
the fellow died in his hands; and in the mean time, a Dutch-
man, who stood next, took up the musket, and with the butt-
end of it so laid about him, that he knocked down five of them
who attempted to enter the boat. But this was doing little
towards resisting thirty or forty men, who, fearless, because
ignorant of their danger, began to throw themselves into the
long-boat, where we had but five men in all to defend it; but
the following accident, which deserved our laughter, gave our

2€n a complete victory.

Our carpenter being prepared to grave the outside of the
ship, as well as to pay-the seams where he had calked her to
stop the leaks, had got two kettles just let down into the
boat, one filled with boiling pitch, and the other with rosin

>ROBINSON CRUSOE. O77

tallow, and oil, and such stuff as the shipwrights use for that
work ; and the man that attended the carpenter had a great
iron ladle in his hand, with which he supplied the men that
were at work with the hot stuff; two of the enemy’s men en-
tered the boat just where this fellow stood, being in the fore-
sheets ; he immediately saluted them with a ladle full of the
stuff, boiling-hot, which so burned and scalded them, being
half naked, that they roared out like bulls, and, enraged wit!
the fire, leaped both into the sea. The carpenter saw it, a
cried out, “‘ Well done, Jack! give them some more of it ;”
and stepping forward himself, takes one of the mops, and dip-
ping it in the pitch-pot, he and his man threw it among them
so plentifully, that, in short, of all the men in the three boats
there was not one that escaped being scalded and burned wit’
it, in a most frightful, pitiful manner, and made such a howl-
ing and crying, that | never heard a worse noise; for it is
worth observing, that though pain naturally makes all people
cry out, yet every nation has a particular way of exclamation,
and makes noises as different from one another as their speech.
I cannot give the noise these creatures made a better name
than howling, nor a name more proper to the tone of it; for I
never heard any thing more hke the noise of the wolves,
which, as I have said, [ heard howl in the forest on the fron-
tiers of Languedoc.

I was never better pleased with a victory in my life; not
only as it was a perfect surprise to me, and that our danger
was imminent before, but as we got this victory without any
bloodshed, except of that man the fellow killed with his
naked hands, and which [ was very much concerned at, for
[ was sick of killing such poor savage wretches, even though it
was in my own defence, knowing they came on errands which
they thought just, and knew no better; and that though it
may be a just thing, because necessary (for there is no ne-
cessary wickedness in nature), yet I thought it was a sad life
when we must be always obliged to be killing our fellow-crez
ures to preserve ourselves; and, indeed, I think so still, and
I would even now suffer a great deal, rather than I would take
away the life even of the worst person injuring me; and I be-
lieve all considering people who know the value of lite would
be of my opinion, if they entered seriously into the consil-
eration of it. :

But to return to my story ; All the while this was doing,
my partner and ib, who manager e rest of the men on board,
had with great dexterity brought the ship almost to righ ind
having got the guns into their places again, the § unner called
to me to bid our boat get out of the way, for he would let fly
among them. I called back again to him, and bid him not
offer to fire, for the carpenter would do the work without him ;
but bid him heat another pitch-kettle, which our cook, whoEST AIO 3 WOOL PAR 7

A TERRI, -

378 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

was on board, took care of; but the enemy was so terrified
with what they had met with in their first attack, that they
would not come on again; and some of them who were far-
thest off, seeing the ship swim, as it were, upright, began, as
we suppose, to see their mistake, and give over the enterprise,
finding it was not as they expected. ‘Thus we got clear of this
merry fight, and having got some rice, and some roots and
bread, with about sixteen hogs, on board, two days before,
we resolved to stay here no longer, but go forward, whatever
came of it; for we made no doubt but we should be surround-
ed the next day with rogues enough, perhaps more than our
pitch-kettle would dispose of for us. We therefore got all our
things on board the same evening, and the next morning were
ready to sail; in the mean time, lying at anchor at some dis-
tance from the shore, we were not so much concerned, being
now in a fighting posture, as well as in a sailing posture, if
any enemy had presented. The next day having finished our
work within board, and finding our ship was perfectly healed
of all her leaks, we set sail. We would have gone into the
Bay of Tonquin, for we wanted to inform ourselves of what
was to be known concerning the Dutch ships that had been
there; but we durst not stand in there, because we had seen
several ships go in, as we supposed, but a little before ; so we
kept on N. E. towards the Island of Formosa, as much afraid
of being seen by a Dutch or English merchant-ship, as a
@utch or English merchant-ship in the Mediterranean is of an
Algerine man-of-war.

When we were thus got to sea, we kept on N. E. as if we
would go to the Manillas or the Philippine Islands; and this we
did that we might not fall into the way of any of the European
ships; and then we steered north, till we came to the latitude
of 22 deg. 30 min. by which means we made the Island For-
mosa directly, where we came to an anchor, in order to get
water and fresh provisions, which the people there, who are
very courteous and civil in their manners, supplied us with
willingly, and dealt very fairly and punctually with us in all
their agreements and bargains, which is what we did not find
among other people, and may be owing to the remains of
Christianity which was once planted here by a Dutch mis 3
sionary of Protestants, and is a testimony of what I have ofter ,
observed, viz. that the Christian religion always civilizes th
people and reforms their manners, where it is received,
whether it works saving effects upon them or no.

From thence we sailed still north, keeping the coast of China
at an equal distance, till we knew we were beyond all the ports
of China where our European ships usually come; being re-
solved, if possible, not to fall into any of their hands, especially
in this country, where, as our circumstances were, we coulc
not fail of being entirely ruined.

Being now come to the latitude of thirty degrees, we resolvedROBINSON CRUSOE. 379

to put into the first trading port we should come at ; and stand-
ing in for the shore, a boat came off two leagues to us, with an
old Portuguese pilot on board, who, knowing us to be a Euro-
pean ship, came to offer his service, which, indeed, we were
glad of, and took him on board ; upon which, without asking
us whether we would go, he dismissed the boat he came in,
and sent it back.

I thought it was now so much in our choice to make the old
man carry us whither we would, that I began to talk to him
about carrying us to the Gulf of Nanquin, which is the most
northern part of the coast of China. The old man said he
knew the Gulf of Nanauin verv well: but smiling, asked us
what we woule do there. I told him we would sell our carge
and purchase China wares, calicoes, raw silks, tea, wrought
silks, éoc., and so would return by the same course we caino.
He told us our best port had been to have put in at Macao,
where we could not have failed of a market for our opium to
our satisfaction, and might for our money have purchased all
sorts of China goods as cheap as we could at Nanquin.

Not being able to put the old man out of his talk, of which
he was very opinionated or conceited, I told him we were gen-
tlemen as well as merchants, and that we had a mind to go and
see the great city of Pekin, and the famous court of the mon-
arch of China. “ Why then,” says the old man, ‘‘ you should
go to Ningpo, where, by the river which runs into the sea there,
you may go up within five leagues of the great. canal. This
canal is a navigable stream, which goes through the heart of
that vast empire of China, crosses all the rivers, passes some
considerable hills by the help of sluices and gates, and goes up
to the city of Pekin, being in length near two hundred and
seventy leagues.”

‘¢ Well,” said I, ‘‘ Seignior Portuguese, but that is not our
business now; the great question is, if you can carry us up to
the city of Nanquin, from whence we can travel to Pekin aiter-
wards.’ He said he could do so very well, and that there was
a great Dutch ship gone up that way just before. ‘This gave
me a little shock, for a Dutch ship was now our terror, and we
had much rather have met the devil, at least if he had not
come in too frightful a figure ; and we depended upon it that a
Dutch ship would be our destruction, for we were in no Con-
dition to fight them; all the ships they trade wi h into those
parts being of great burden, and of much greater force than
we were.

The old man found me a little confused, and under some
concern when he named a Dutch ship, and said to me, ‘‘ Sir,
you need be under no apprehensions of the Dutch T sup:

ose they are not now at war with your nation 1’ — No,”’ said
i, ‘that’s true; but I know not what liberties men may take

when they are out of the reach of the laws of their own counROMNEY

TAIN:

Lise tatiecmeeacrnenme Covamigete:

380 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
try.”’—‘* Why,” says he, “‘ you are no pirates; what need you
fear ? They will not meddle with peaceable merchants, sure.”

If I had any blood in my body that did not fly up into my
face at that word, it was hindered by some stop in the vessels
appointed by nature to circulate it, for it put me into the
greatest disorder and confusion imaginable ; nor was it possible
for me to conceal it so, but the old man easily perceived it.

‘*« Sir,”’ says he, ‘‘ I find you are in some disorder in your
thoughts at my talk; pray be pleased to go which way you
think fit, and depend upon it, I’ll do you all the service I can.”
—‘* Why, seignior,”’ said I, ‘it is true, I am a little unsettled
in my resolution at.this time, whither to go in particular; and
I am something more so for what you said about pirates. |
hope there are no pirates in these seas; we are but in an ill
condition to meet with them, for you see we have but a small
force, and are but very weakly manned.”—*‘O, sir,” says he,
‘‘ don’t be concerned,—I do not know that there have been any
pirates in these seas these fifteen years, except one, which was
seen, as I hear, in the Bay of Siam, about a month since; but
you may be assured she is gone to the southward; nor was she
a ship of any great force, or fit for the work: she was not built
for a privateer, but was run away with by a reprobate crew that
was on board, after the captain and some of his men had been
murdered by the Malayans, at or near the Island of Sumatra.”
—‘* What!”’ said I, seeming to know nothing of the matter,
‘‘ did they murder the captain ?””—‘‘ No,” said he, ‘I don’t
understand that they murdered him; but as they afterwards
ran away with the ship, it 1s generally believed that they be-
trayed him into the hands of the Malayans, who did murder
him ; and perhaps they procured them to do it.”—‘* Why then,”
said I, ‘‘they deserve death as much as if they had done it
themselves.’’—‘‘ Nay,” says the old man, ‘‘ they do deserve it ;
and they will certainly have it, if they light upon any English
or Dutch ship; for they have all agreed together, that if they
meet that rogue, they’ll give himno quarter.’”’-—‘‘ But,” said 1
to him, ‘‘ you say the pirate is gone out of these seas; how can
they meet with him then ?”—‘‘ Why, that’s true,”’ says he,
‘*they do say so; but he was, as I tell you, in the Bay of Siam,
in the river Cambodia; and was discovered there by soma
Dutchmen who belonged to the ship, and who were left ou shore
when they ran away with her; and some English and Dutch
traders being in the river, they were within a little of taking
him: nay,’’ said he, ‘‘if the foremost boats had been well sec-
onded by the rest, they had certainly taken him; but he,
finding only two boats within reach of him, tacked about, and
fired at those two, and disabled them before the others came
up, and then standing off to sea, the others were not able to
follow, and so he got away; but they have all so exact a de-
scription of the ship, that they. will be sure to know her; andROBINSON CRUSOE. 381

wherever they find her, they have vowed to give no quarter
either to the captain or seamen, but to hang them all up at the
yard-arm.’’—‘‘ What ie said I, ‘‘ will they execute them right
or wrong ; hang them first, and judge them afterwards ?7”’—‘* O
sir,” says the old pilot, ‘‘ there is no need to make a formal
business of it with such rogues as those; let them tie them
back to back, and set them a diving—’tis no more than they
deserve.” E

I knew I had my old man fast on board, and that he could
do no harm, so that I turned short upon him: “ Well now,
seignior,” said I, “‘this is the very reason why I would have
you carry us up to Nanquin, and not put back to Macao, or
to any other part of the country where the English or Dutch
ships come; for be it known to you, seignior, those captains
of the English and Dutch ships are a parcel of rash, proud,
insolent fellows, that neither know what belongs to justice, or
how to behave themselves as the laws of God and nature di-
rect; but being proud of their offices, and not understanding
their power, they would act the murderers to punish robbe
would take upon them to insult men falsely accused, and de-
termine them guilty without due inquiry ; and perhaps | may
live to bring some of them to account for it, when they may
be taught how justice is to be executed; and that no man
ought to be treated as a criminal till some evidence may be
had of the crime, and that he is the man.”

With this | told him that this was the very ship they at-
tacked, and gave him a full account of the skirmish we had with
their boats, and how foolishly and cowardly they behaved. [
told him all the story of our buying the ship, and how the
Dutchman served us. I told him the reasons had to believe
the story of killing the master by the Malayans was true, as
also the running away with the ship ; but it was all a fiction
of their own to suggest that the men had turned pirates, and
they ought to have been sure it was so before they had ven-
- tured to attack us by surprise, and oblige us to re st them ;
adding, that they would have the blood of those men, whom
we killed there in just defence, to answer for.

The old man was amazed at this relation, and told us we
were very much in the right to go away to the north ; and
that if he might advise us, it should be to-sell the ship in
China, which we might very well do, and buy or build another
in the country ;. “and,” said he, ‘ though you wil not get so
good a ship, yet you may get one able enough to carry you
and all your goods back again to Bengal, or any where else.
[ told him I would take his advice when I came to any port
where I could find a ship for my turn, or get any customer to
buy this.- He replied I should meet with customers enough for
the ship at Nanquin, and that a Chinese junk would serve me
very well to go back again; and that. he would procure me
people both to buy one and sell the other. ‘“‘ Well, but, seign-

>ROBINSON CRUSOE.

 

8

| i lor,” said I, “as you say they know the ship so well, 1 may,
P

9
382

 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 

perhaps, if I follow your weasures, be instrumental to bring

some honest, innoveitt en into a terrible broil, and perlaps to

be murdered in cold blood; for wherever they find the ship,

they will prove the guilt upon the men, by proving this was

the ship, and so innocent men may probably be overpowered

and murdered.”’—‘‘ Why,” says the old man, ‘‘ [’ll find out a

way to prevent that also; for as I know all those commanders

; you speak of very well, and shall see them all as they pass by, |

will be sure to set them to rights in the thing, and let them

know that they had been so much in the wrong ; that though

he veanle who were on board at first might run away with

the ship, yet 1t was not true that they had turned pirates; and

; that, in particular, these were not the men that first went off

with the ship, but innocently bought her for their trade; and

Iam persuaded they will so far believe me, as at least to act
more cautiously for the time to come.”

While these things were passing between us, by way of

. discourse, we went forward directly for Nanquin, and in about

; thirteen days’ sail came to an anchor at the south-west point

' of the great Gulf of Nanquin; where, by the way, I came by

& accident to understand that two Dutch ships were gone the

> length before me, and that I should certainly fall into their

hands. I consulted BE pee again in this exigency, and he

' } was as much at a loss as I was, and would very gladly have been
: safe on shore almost any where ; however, I was not in such

perplexity neither, but [asked the old pilot if there was no creek
or harbor which I might put into and pursue my business with
the Chinese privately, and be in no danger of the enemy. He
told me, if I would sail to the southward about forty-two leagues,
if there was a little port called Quinchang, where the fathers of the
| ae mission usually landed from Macao, on their progress to teach
ea; | the Christian religion to the Chinese, and where no European
ships ever put in; and if I thought to put in there, I might
consider what further course to take when I was on shore.
He confessed, he said, it was not a place for merchants, except

oo RTE ERR ce

i that at some certain times they had a kind of a fair there,
fia. | when the merchants from Japan came over thither to buy the
ae Chinese merchandises.

We all agreed to go back to this place; the name of the
port, as he called el may, perhaps, spell wrong, for I do not
particularly remember it, having lost this, together with the
names of many other places set down ina little pocket-book
which was spoiled by the water by an accident; but this I
remember, that the Chinese or Japanese merchants we cor-
i responded with called it by a different name from that which
| nur Portuguese pilot gave it, and pronounced it as above,
ec Quinchang.
; As we were unanimous in our resolution to go to this placeROBINSON CRUSOE.

we weighed the next day, having only gone twice on shore,
where we were to get fresh water; on both which occasions
the people of the country were very civil to us, and brought
us abundance of things to sell to us, I mean of provisions,
plants, roots, tea, rice, and some fowls, but nothing without
money.

We came to the other port (the wind being contrary) not till
five days, but it was very much to our satisfaction; and I was
Joyful, and I may say thankful, when I set my foot on shore,
yesolving, and my partner too, that if it was possible to dispose
oy ourselves and effects any other way, though not every way
t) our satisfaction, we would never set one foot on board that
unhappy vessel more; and, indeed, I must acknowledge, that
of all the circumstances of life that ever I had any experience
of, nothing makes mankind so completely miserable as that of
being in constant fear. Well does the Scripture say, *‘ The
fear of man brings a snare ;”’ it isa life of death, and the mind
is so entirely oppressed by it, that it is capable of no relief.

Nor did it fail of its usual operations upon the fancy, by
heightening every danger, representing the English and Dutch
captains to be men incapable of hearing reason, or of distin-
guishing between honest men and rogues; or between a story
calculated for our own turn, made out of nothing, on purpose
to deceive, and a true, genuine account of our whole voyage,
progress, and design ; for we might many ways have convinced
any reasonable creature that we were not pirates; the goods we
had on board, the course we steered, our frankly showing our-
selves, and entering into such and such ports; and even our
very manner, the force we had, the number of men, the few
arms, little ammunition, short provisions ; all these would have
served to convince any men that we were no pirates. The
opium and other goods we had on board would make it appear
the ship had been at Bengal. The Dutchmen, who, it was said,
had the names of all the men that were in the ship, might easily
see that we were amixture of English, Portuguese, and Indians,
and but two Dutchmen on board. These, and many other
particular circumstances, might have made it evident to the
understanding of any commander, whose hands we might fall
into, that we were no pirates. But fear, that blind, useless

assion, worked another way, and threw us into the vapors; it
er ered our understandings, and set the imagination at work

to form a thousand terrible things that perhaps might never

happen. We first supposed, as indeed every body had related
to us, that the seamen on board the English and Dutch ships,
but especially the Dutch, were so enraged at the name of a
pirate, and especially at our beating off their boats and esca-
ping, that they would not give themselves leave to inquire
whether we were pirates or no, but would execute us off hand,
as we call it, without giving us any room for a defence. WeSGM 20

EERO:

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RDP RE EER CO

394 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
reflected that there really was so much apparent evidence be-
fore them, that they would scarce inquire after any more; as,
first, that the ship was certainly the same, and that some of the
seamen among them knew her, and had been on board her ;
and, secondly, that when we had intelligence at the river of
Cambodia that they were coming down to examine us, we
fought their boats and fled ; so that we made no doubt but they
were as fully satisfied of our being pirates, as we were satisfied
of the contrary ; and, as I often said, I know not but I should
have been apt to have taken those circumstances for evidence,
if the tables were turned, and my case was theirs, and have
made no scruple of cutting all the crew to pieces, without be-
lieving, or perhaps considering, what they might have to offer
in their defence.

But let that be how it will, these were our apprehensions;
and both my partner and I scarce slept a night without dream
ing of halters and yard-arms, that is to say, gibbets; of fighting,
and being taken; of killing, and being killed; and one night I
was in such a fury in my dream, fancying the Dutchmen had
boarded us, and I was knocking one of their seamen down, that
I struck my double fist against the side of the cabin I lay in
with such a force, as wounded my hand grievously, broke
my knuckles, and cut and bruised the flesh, so that it awaked
me out of my sleep.

Another apprehension I had was, the cruel usage we might
meet with from them if we fell into their hands: then the story
of Amboyna came into my head, and how the Dutch might
perhaps torture us, as they did our countrymen there, and make
some of our men, by extremity of torture, confess thuse crimes
they never were guilty of, or own themselves and all of us to be
pirates, and so they would put us to death with a formal ap-
pearance of justice ; and that they might be tempted to do this
for the gain of our ship and cargo, which was worth four or
five thousand pounds, put all together.

These things tormented me and my partner too, night and
day ; nor did we consider that the captains of ships have no
authority to act thus, and if we had surrendered prisoners to
them, they could not answer the destroying us, or torturing us,
but would be accountable for it when they came to their own
country ; this, I say, gave me no satisfaction; for if they were
to act thus with us, what advantage would it be to us that they
should be called to an account for it ? or if we were first to be
murdered, what satisfaction would it be to. us to have them
punished when they came home?

I cannot refrain taking notice here what reflections I now
had upon the vast variety of my particular circumstances—how
hard I thought it was, that I, who had spent forty years in a
life of continual difficulties, and was at last come, as it were, to
the port or haven which all men drive at, viz. to have rest and
plenty, should be a volunteer in new sorrows by my own un-ROBINSON CRUSUE.

1appy choice; and that I, who had escaped so many dan
n my youth, should now come to be hanged in my old
and in so remote a place, fer a crime

feast inclined to, much less guilty of.

After these thoughts, something of religion would come in,
and I should be considering that this seemed to me to be a dis-
position of immediate Providence, and I ought to look upon it
and submit to it as such; that although I was innocent as to
men, I was far from being innocent as to my Maker; and lL
ought to look in and examine what other crimes in my life
were most obvious to me, and for which Providence might just-
ly inflict this punishment as a retribution; and that I ought te
submit to this, just as 1 would to a shipwreck, if it had p d
God to have brought such a disaster upon me. 2

In its turn, natural courage would sometimes take its place,
and then I would be talking myself up to vigorous resolutions ;
that I would not be taken to be barbarously used by a parcel
of merciless wretches in cold blood; that it were much better
to have fallen into the hands of the savages, though [ was sure
they would feast upon me when they had taken me, than those
who would perhaps glut their rage upon me by inhuman tor-
tures and barbarities; that in the case of the savages, I always
resolved to die fighting to the last gasp, and why sheuld I not
do so now, seeing it was much more dreadful, to me at least,
to think of falling into these men’s hands, than ever it was to
think of being eaten by men? for the savages—give them their
due—would not eat a man till he was killed and dead; but that
these men had many arts beyond the cruelty of death. When-
ever these thoughts prevailed, I was sure to put myself into a
kind of fever with the agitation of a supposed fight ; my blood
would boil, and my eyes sparkle, as if I was engaged, and I
always resolved to take no quarter at their hands; but, even
at last, if I could resist no longer, I would blow up the ship
and all that was in her, and leave them but little booty to
boast of. bes 4;

The greater weight the anxieties and perplexities of these
things were to our thoughts while we were at sea, the greater
was our satisfaction when we saw ourselves on shore; and my
partner told me he dreamed that he had a very heavy load
upon his back, which he was to carry up a hill, and found that
he was not able to stand longer under it; but that the Portu-
euese pilot came and took it off his back, and the hill disap-
peared, the ground before him appearing all smooth and plain ;
and truly it was so; they were all like men who had a load
taken off their backs. For my part, I had a weight taken off
from my heart that it was not able any longer to bear; and, as I
said above, we resolved to go no more to sea 1n that ship. When
we came on shore, the old puut, who was now our friend, got
us a lodging and a warehouse for our goods, which, by the

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386 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

way, was much the same: it was a little house, or hut, with a
larger house adjoining to it, all built with canes, and palisa-
doed round with large canes, to keep out pilfering thieves, of
which, it seems, there were not a few in that country; how-
ever, the magistrates allowed us a little guard, and we had a
soldier with a kind of halberd, or half-pike, who stood sentinel
at our door; to whom we allowed a pint of rice, and a little
piece of money, about the value of threepence, per day, so
that our goods were kept very safe. :

The fair, or mart, usually kept in this place, had been over
some time: however, we found that there were three or four
junks in the river, and two Japanners—I mean ships from
Japan with goods which they had bought in China, and were
not gone away, having some Japanese merchants on shore.

The first thing our old Portuguese pilot did for us, was, to
get us acquainted with three missionary Romish priests who
were in town, and who had been there some time converting
the people to Christianity; but we thought they made but
poor work of it, and made them but sorry Christians when
they had done ; however, that was none of our business. One
of these was a Frenchman, whom they called Father Simon;
another was a Portuguese, and the third a Genoese; but
Father Simon was courteous, easy in his manner, and very
agreeable company; the other two were more reserved,
seemed rigid and austere, and applied seriously to the work
they came about, viz. to talk with, and insinuate themselves
among, the inhabitants, wherever they had opportunity. We
often ate and drank with those men; and though, | must con-
fess, the conversion, as they call it, of the Chinese to Chris-
tianity is so far from the true conversion required to bring
heathen people to the faith of Christ, that it seems to amount
to little more than letting them know the name of Christ, and
say some prayers to the Virgin Mary and her Son, in a tongue
which they understand not, and to cross themselves and the
like 5 yet it must be confessed that the religionists, whom we
call missionaries, have a firm belief that these people will be
saved, and that they are the instruments of it; and, on this
account, they undergo not only the fatigue of the voyage, and
the hazards of living in such places, but oftentimes death
itself, with the most violent tortures, for the sake of this work.

But to return to my story: This French priest, Father
Simon, was appointed, it seems, by order of the chief of the
mission, to go up to Pekin, the royal seat of-the Chinese
emperor, and waited only for another priest, who was ordered
to come to him from Macao, to goralong with him; and we
scarce ever met together but he was inviting tne to go that
journey ; telling me how he would show me all the giorious
things of that mighty empire, and among the rest, the greatest
city in the world; ‘‘a city,” said he, ‘‘ that your London andROBINSON CRUSOE.

our Paris put together cannot be equal to.” This was the
city of Pekin, which, I confess, is very great, and infinitely
full of people; but as I looked on those things with different
eyes from other men, so I shall give my opinion of them in a
dew words, when I come in the course of my travels to speak
more particularly of them.

But, first, 1 come to my friar or missionary. Dining with
him one day, and being very merry together, I showed some
little inclination to go with him; and he pressed me and my
partner very hard, and with a great many persuasions, to
consent. “ Why, Father Simon,” says my partner, ‘‘ should
you desire our company so much? you know we are heretics,
and you do not love us,nor cannot keep us company with any
pleasure.” —“‘O,” says he, “‘ you may, perhaps, be good Catho-
lics in time; my business here is to convert heathens, and who
knows but I may convert you too?”’—* Very well, father,” said
I, ‘so you will preach to us all the way?”—“I will not be
troublesome to you,” says he; ‘‘our religion does not divest
us of good manners; besides, we are here like countrymen:
and-so we are, compared to the place we are in; and if you
are Hugonots, and [ a Catholic, we may all be Christians at
last; at least, we are all gentlemen, and we may converse so,
without being uneasy to one another.’ I liked this ‘part of
his discourse very well, and it began to put me in mind of my
priest that I had left in the Brazils; but this Father Simon
did not come up to his character by a great deal; for though
Father Simon had no appearance of a criminal levity in him
neither, yet he had not that fund of Christian zeal, strict
piety, and sincere affection to religion, that my other good
ecclesiastic had.

But to leave him a little,—though he never left us, nor so-
liciting us to go with him,—we had something else before us at
first, for we had all this while our ship and our merchandise
to dispose of, and we began to be very doubtful what we should
do, for we were now in a place of very little business 5 and once
I was about to venture to sail for the river of Kalam, and the
city of Nanquin ;. but Providence seemed now more visibly, as
I thought, than ever, to concern itself in our affairs ; and I was
encouraged, from this very time, to think I should one way or
other get out of this entangled circumstance, and be brought
home to my own country again, though I had not the least
view of the manner. Providence, I say, began here to clear
up our way a little; and the first thing that offered was, that
our old Portuguese pilot brought a Japan merchant to us, who
inquired what goods we had ; and, in the first place, he bought
all our opium, and gave us a very good price for it, paying us
in gold by weight, some in small pieces of their own coin, and
some in small wedges, of about ten or eleven ounces each.
While we were dealing with him for our opium, it came into
my head that he might perhaps deal for the ship too, and I oree

Ae NEARER OR: TI

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388 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
dered the interpreter to propose it to him; he shrunk up his
shoulders at it, when it was first proposed to him; but in a few
days after he came to me with one of the missionary priests
for his interpreter, and told me he had a proposal to make to
me, which was this:—he had bought a great quantity of goods
of us, when he had no thoughts of proposals made to him of
buying the ship; and that, therefore, he had not money enough
to pay for the ship: but if I would let the same men who were
in the ship navigate her, he would hire the ship to go to Japan;
and et send them from thence to the Philippine Islands
with another loading, which he would pay the freight of before
they went from Japan; and that at their return he would buv
the snip. I began to listen to his proposal, and so eager did
my head still run upon rambling, that I could not but begin to
entertain a notion of going myself with him, and so to sail
from the Philippine Islands away to the South Seas ; according-
ly L asked the Japanese merchant if he would not hire us to
the Philippine Islands, and discharge us there. He said, no,
he could not do that, for then he could not have the return of
his cargo; but he would discharge us in Japan, at the ship’s
return. Well, still. I was for taking him at that proposal, and
going myself; but my partner, wiser than Sete persuaded
me from it, representing the dangers, as well of the seas as of
the Japanese, who are a false, cruel, and treacherous people;
likewise those of the Spaniards at the Philippines, more false,
cruel, and treacherous than they.

But to bring this long turn of our affairs to a conclusion;
the first thing we had to do was, to consult with the captain
of the ship, and with his men, and know if they were willing
to go to Japan; and while I was doing this, the young man
whom my nephew had left with me, as my companion for my
travels, came to me, and told me that he thought that voyage
promised very fair, and that there was a great prospect of ad-
vantage, and he would be very glad if I undertook it; but that
if | would not, and would give him leave, he would go as a
merchant, or how I pleased to order him; that if ever he came
to England, and I was there and alive, he would render me a
faithful account of his success, which should be as much mine
as | pleased. I was really loath to part with him; but con-
sidering the prospect of advantage, which really was consid-
erable, and that he was a young fellow as likely to do well in
it as any I knew, I inclined to let him go; but I told him 1
would consult my partner, and give him an answer the next day.

My partner and I discoursed about it, and my partner made ,
a most generous offer: “‘ You know it has been an unlucky™

ship,” said he, ‘‘and we both resolve not to go to sea in it
again; if your steward (so he called my man) will venture the
vovage, I will leave my share of the vessel to him, and let him
make the best of it; and if we live to meet in England, and he

  
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

   

%the profits of the ship’s freight to us; the other shall be
his own.”

If my partner, who was no way concerned with my young
man, made him such an offer, I could do no less than offer
him the same; and all the ship’s company being willing to go
with him, we made over half the ship to him in property, and
took a writing from him, obliging him to account for the
other; and away he went to Japan. The Japan merchant
proved a very punctual, honest man to him; protected him at
Japan, and got him a license to come on shore, which the Euro-
peans in general have not lately obtained; paid him his
freight very punctually ; sent him to the Philippines, loaded
with Japan and China wares, and a supercargo of their own,
who, trafficking with the Spaniards, brought back European
goods again, and a great quantity of cloves and other spices ;
and there he was not only paid his freight very well, and at a
very good price, but not being willing to sell the ship then,
the merchant furnished him goods on his own account; and
with some money, and some spices of his own which he
brought with him, he went back to the Manillas to the Span-
iards, where he sold his cargo very well. Here, having got a
good acquaintance at Manilla, he got his ship made a free
ship; and the governor of Manilla hired him to go to Aca-
pulco in America, on the coast of Mexico, and gave him a
license to land there, and to travel to Mexico, and to pass in
any Spanish ship to Europe with all his men. He made the
voyage to Acapulco very happily, and there he sold his ship;
and having there also obtained allowance to travel by land to
Porto Bello, he found means, some how or other, to get to
Jamaica, with all his treasure; and about eight years after
came to England exceeding rich, of which I shall take notice
in its place: in the mean time, I return to our particular
affairs. i '

Being now to part with the ship and ship’s company, it
came before us, of course, to consider what recompense we
should give to the two men that gave us such timely notice
of the design against us in the river Cambodia. Ihe truth
was, they had done us a very considerable service, and de-
served well at our hands; though, by the way, they were a
couple of rogues too; for as they believed the story of our be-
ing pirates, and that we had really run away with the ship,
they came down to us not only to betray the design that was
formed aguinst us, but to go to sea with us as pirates; and
one of them confessed afterwards that nothing else but the
hopes of going a roguing brought him to do it: however, the
service they did us was not the less; and, therefore, as I had

romised to be grateful to them, I first ordered the money to
Ee paid them which they said was due to them on board their

meets with success abroad, he shall account for one half of
€8 SEG

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OR TEMMS RES TA

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390 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
respective ships; over and above that, I gave each of them a
small sum of money in gold, which contented them very well;
then I made the Englishman gunner in the ship, the eunner
being now made second mate and purser ; the Dutchman I
made boatswain; so they were both very well pleased, and
proved very serviceable, being both able seamen, and very
stout fellows.

We were now on shore in China; if I thought myself ban-
ished and remote from my own country at Bengal, where [
had many ways to get home for my money, what could I think
of myself now, when I was got about a thousand leagues
farther off from home, and perfectly destitute of all manner of
prospect of return? All We had for it was this, that in about
four months’ time there was to be another fair at the place
where we were, and then we might be able to purchase all
sorts of the manufactures of the country, and withal might
possibly find some Chinese junks or vessels from Tonquin,
that would be to be sold, and would carry us and our eoods
whither we pleased. This I liked very.well, and resolved to
wait; besides,-as our particular persons were not obnoxious,
so if any English-or Dutch ships came thither, perhaps we
might have an opportunity to load our goods, and get passage
to some other place in India, nearer home. Upon these hopes
we resolved to continue here ; but, to divert. ourselves, we took
tivo or three journeys into the country. First, we went ten
days’ journey, to the city of Nanquin, a city well worth: sce-
ing, indeed; they say it has a million of people in it; it is
regularly built, the streets all exactly straight, and cross one
another in direct lines, which gives the figure of it great ad-
vantage. But when I'come to compare the miserable people
of these countries with ours, their fabrics, their manner ot
living, their government, their religion, their wealth , and their
clory, as some Call it, I must. confess that I scarcely think it
worth my while to mention them here. It is very observable,
that we wonder at the grandeur, the riches, the pomp, the
ceremonies, the government, the manufactures , the commerce,
and conduct of these people; not that it is to be wondered at,
or, indeed, in the least to be regarded, but because having a
true notion of the barbarity of those countries, the rudeness
and the ignorance that prevails there, we do not expect to find
any such thing so far off. Otherwise, what are their build-
ings to the palaces and royal buildings ef Europe? What
their trade to the universal commerce of England, Holland,
France, and Spain? What are their cities to ours , for wealth,
strength, gayety of apparel, rich furniture, and infinite
variety? What are their ports, supplied with a few junks
and barks, to our navigation, our ee iaat fleets, our large
and powerful navies? Our city of London has more trade
than half their mighty empire; one English, Dutch, or French
man-of-war of eig rhty guns, would be able to ficht almost allREGED RESORERLESEESEESUS EER PEEPRSELE DCE EE TEE] ; ( CS nse gt
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ROBINSON CRUSUE. 39]

the shipping belonging to China; but the greatness of their
wealth, their trade, the power of their government, and the
strength of their armies, may be a little surprising ‘to us, be-
cause, as I have said, considering them as a barbarous nation
of pagans, little better than savages, we did not expect such
things among them; and this, indeed, is the advantage with
which all their greatness and power is represented to us; other-
wise, it is in itself nothing at all; for what I have said of their
ships may be said of their armies and troops, all the forces of
their empire, though they were to bring two millions of men
into the field together, would be able to do nothing but ruin

country, and starve themselves, if they were to besiege a
strong town in Flanders, or to fight a disciplined army; one
good line of German cuirassiers, or of French cavalry, might
withstand all the horse of China; a million of their foot could
not stand before one embattled body of our infantry, posted so
as not to be surrounded, though they were not to be one to
twenty innumber ; nay, I do not boast if I say that thirty thou-
sand German or English foot, and ten thousand horse, well
managed, could defeat all the forces of China; and so of our
fortified towns, and of the art of our engineers in assaulting

and defending towns; there is not a fortified town in China

could hold out one month against the batteries and attacks of

a European army ; and, at the same time, all the armies of

China could never take such a town as Dunkirk, provided it
was not starved; no, not in a ten years’ siege. They have
fire-arms, it is true; but they are awkward and uncertain in
their going off, and their powder has but little strength. Their
armies are badly disciplined, and want skill to attack, or tem-
per to retreat; and, therefore, I must confess, it seemed strange
to me, when I came home, and heard our people say such fine
things of the power, glory, magnificence, and trade of the
Chinese ; because, as far as I saw, they appeared to be a con-
temptible herd or crowd of ignorant, sordid slaves, subjected to
a government qualified only to rule such a people; and were
not its distance inconceivably great from Muscovy, and the
Muscovite empire in a manner as rude, impotent, and _ill-gov-
erned as they, the Czar of Muscovy might with ease drive them
all out of their country, and conquer them in one campaign ;
and had the czar (who is now a grow1ng prince) fallen this way,
instead of attacking the warlike Swedes, and equally improved
himself in the art of war, as they say he has done, and if none
of the powers of Europe had envied or interrupted him, he
might by this time have been emperor of China, ee of
being beaten by the king of Sweden at Narva, when the latter
was not one to six in number. As their strength and their
grandeur, so their navigation, commerce, and husbandry, is very
imperfect, compared to the same things in Europe: also in

their knowledge, their learning, and in their skill in the sel-if
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ences, they are either very awkward or defective, though they
have globes and spheres, and a smattering of the mathematics,
and think they know more than all the world besides; but they
know little of the motions of the heavenly bodies : and so grossly
and absurdly ignorant are their common people, that when the
sun is eclipsed, they think a great dragon has assaulted it, and
is going to run away with it; and they fall a clattering with all
the drums and kettles in the country, to fright the monster away,
just as we do to hive a swarm of bees.

As this is the only excursion of the kind which I have made
in all the accounts I have given of my travels, so I shall make
no more such ; it is none of my business, nor any part of my
design, but to give an account of my own adventures through
a life of inimitable wanderings, and a long variety of changes,
which, perhaps, few that come after me will have heard the like
of: I shall therefore say very little of all the mighty places,
desert countries, and numerous people I have yet to pass
through, more than relates to my own story, and which my
concern among them will make necessary.

I was now, as near as [ ean compute, in the heart of China,
about thirty degrees north of the line—for we weré returned
from Nanquin—I had, indeed, a mind to see the city of Pekin,
which I had heard so much of, and Father Simon importuned
me daily to doit. At length his time of going away being set,
and the other missionary who was to go with him being arrived
from Macao, it was necessary that we should resolve either to
go or not; so I referred it wholly to my partner, and left it
wholly to his choice, who at length resolved it in the affirmative,
and we prepared for our journey.—We set out with very good
advantage, as to finding the way, for we got leave to travel in
the retinue of one of their mandarins, a kind of viceroy or prin
cipal magistrate in the province where they reside, and who
take great state upon them, travelling with great attendance,
and with great homage from the. people, who are sometimes
greatly impoverished by them, being obliged to furnish provis-
tons for them and all their attendants in their journeys. Tha:
which I particularly observed, as to our travelling with his bag-
page, was tnis, that though we received sufficient provisions
doth for ourselves and our horses from the country, as belong-
ng to the mandarin, yet we were obliged to pay for every thing
we had, after the market price of the country, and the man-
darin’s steward collected it duly from us; sothat our travelling
in the retinue of the mandarin, though it was a very great
kindness to us, was not such a mighty favor in him, but was a
great advantage to him, considering there were above thirty
other people travelled in the same manner besides us, under
the protection of his retinue ; for the country furnished all the

provisions for nothing te him, and yet he took our money
for them.ROBINSON CRUSOE.

We were twenty-five days travelling to Pekin, through a
country infinitely populous, but I think badly cultivated : the
husbandry, the economy, and the way of living miserable
though they boast so much of the industry of the 1 people
say miserable , if compared with our own, but not so to these
poor w retches, who know no other. The pride of the people
is infinitely great, and exceeded by nothing but their poverty,
in some parts, which adds to that which [call their misery ;
and J must needs think the naked savages of America live
much more happy than the poorer sort of these, because as
they have nothing, so they desire nothing ; whereas these are
proud and insolent, and in the. main are in mahy parts mere
beggars and drudges; eae ostentation is inexpressible ; and,
if they can, they love to keep multitudes of servants or slaves,
which is to the last degree ridiculous, as well as the contempt
of all the world but themselves.

1 must confess, I travelled more pleasantly afterwards in the
deserts and wast wildernesses of Grand Tartary than here
and yet the roads here are well paved and well kept, and very
convenient for travellers; but nothing was more awkward to
me than to see such a haughty, imperious, insolent people in
the midst of the grossest simplicity and ignorance; and my
friend Father Simon and I used to be very merry upon these
cecasions, to see the beggarly pride of these people; for ex-
ample, coming by the house of a country gentleman, as Father
‘Simon called him, about ten leagues off the city of Nanquin,

ve had first of all the honor to ride with the master of the
hv yuse about two miles; the stite he rode in was a periect
Don Quixotism, being a mixture of pomp and poverty. His
habit was very proper for a scaramouch, or merry-andrew,
being a dirty calico, with hanging-sleeves, tassels, and cuts
and slashes almost on every side; it covered a taffety vest,
greasy as a butcher’s, and which testified that his honor “moet
be a most exquisite sloven. His horse was but a poor, starved,
hobbling creature, and he had two slaves followed him on foot
to drive the poor creature along; he hi id a whip in his hand,
and he belabored the beast as fast about the head as his sl: Wes
did about the tail; and thus he rode by us, with about ten or
twelve servants, going from the city to his country -seat, about
half a league before us. We travelled on cently, but this
fizure of a gentleman rode away before us, and as we stopped
at a village “about an hour to refresh us, when we came by the
country-set it of this great man, we saw him in a little place
before his door, eating his repast. It was a kind of a garden,
but he was easy to be seen; and we were given to understand
that the more we looked at him, the better he would be pleased.
He sat under a tree, something like the palmetto, which effect-
ually shaded him over the head, and on the south side; but

under the tree was also placed a ‘lar ge umbrella, which made
that part look well enough; he sat lolling back in a great

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elbow-chair, being a heavy, corpulent man; and had his meat
brought him by two women slaves; he had two more, one of
which fed the squire with a spoon, and the other held the dish
with one hand, and scraped off what he let fall upon his wor-
ship’s beard and taffety vest.

Thus leaving the poor wretch to please himself with our
looking at him, as if we admired his pomp, though we really
pitied and contemned him, we pursued our journey; only
Pther Simon had the curiosity to stay to inform himself
what dainties the country justice had to feed on in all his state,
which he had the honor to taste of, and.which was, I think, a
mess of boiled rice, with a great piece of garlic init, anda
rittle bag filled with green pepper, and another plant which
they have there, something like our ginger, but smelling like
musk, and tasting like mustard ; all this was put together, and
a small piece of lean muttom boiled in it, and this was his
worship’s repast; four or five servants more attended at a
distance, who, we supposed, were to eat of the same after
their master.

As for our mandarin, with whom we travelled, he was re-
spected as a king, surrounded always with his gentlemen, and
attended in all his appearances with such pomp, that I saw
little of him but at a distance; but this I observed, that there
was not a horse in his retinue but that our carriers’ packhorsesin England seemed to me to look much better; though it was
hard to judge rightly, for they were so covered with equipage,
mantles, trappings, éuc., that we ould scarce see any thing
but their feet and their heads as they went along.

I was now light-hearted and all my trouble and perplexity
that I have given an account of being over, I had no anxious
thought about me, which made this journey the pleasanter to
me; nor had I any ill accident attended me, only, jn passing
or fording a small river, my horse fell, and made me free of the
country, as they call it, tnat is to say, threw me in; the place
was not deep, but it wetted me allover. I mention it, because
it spoiled my pocket-book, wherein I had set down the names
of several people and places which I had occasion to remem-
ber, and which not taking due care of, the leaves rotted, and
the words were never after to be read, to my great loss as to
che names of some places I touched at in this journey.

At length we arrived at Pekin; I had nobody with me but
the youth whom my ne} hew, the captain, had given me to at-
tend me as a servant, and who proved very trusty and dili-
gent; and my partner had nobody with him but one servant,
who wasa kinsman. As for the pilot, he being
desirous to see the court, we bore his charges for his company,
and to use him as an interpreter, for he understood the lan-
guage of the country, and spoke good French, and a little
English; and, indeed, this old man was a most useful im ple-
ment to us every where ; for we had not been above a week at
Pekin, when he came laughing, “ Ah, Seignior Inglese,” says
ae, “ | have something to tell you will make your heart glad.”
—‘* My heart glad,” says 1; “ what can that be? I don’t know
any thing in this country can either give me joy or grief, to
any great degree.” —“ Yes, yes,” said the old man, in broken
finglish, “‘ make you glad, me sorry.” —“ Why,’ said I, ‘‘ will
tmake you sorry ?”—* Because,” said he, “ you have brought
me here twen days’ journey, and will leave me to go
oack alone, and which way shall | get to my port afterwards
without a ship, without a horse, without pecune 5 » so he called

being his broken Latin, of which he had abundance
to make us merry with. In short, he told us there was a great
caravan of Muscovite and Polish merchants -in the city, pre-
paring to set out on their journey by land to Muscovy, within
four or five weeks, and he was sure we would take the op-
portunity to go with them, and leave him behind, to go back
alone.

I confess 1 was great
had scarce power to speak to him ne |
turned to him, “ How do you know this 2
sure it is true Ces, ne 5, :
the street an old acquaintance of mine, an Armenian, who 1s
among them; he came last from Astracan, and was designin
to go to Tonquin, where I formerly knew him, but has altere

ly surprised. with this good news, and
, for some time; but at last I
said I; ‘‘ are you
977“ Yes,” says he; “1 met this morning in

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356 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
his mind, and is now resolved to go with the caravan to Mos-
cow, and so down the river Wolea t to Astracan.”—‘‘ Well,
seignior ,’ says I, “do not be uneasy about being left to go
back alone; if this be a method for my return to Engl and,
it shail be your fault if you go back to Macao at all.” .We
then went to consult together what was to be done; and I

asked my.partner what “he thought of the pilot’s news, and

whether it would suit with his affairs. He told me he would

do just as I would; for he had settled all his affairs so well at
engal; and left his effects in such good hands, that as we had
made a good voyage here, if he could vest it in China silks Sy
wrought “and raw, such as n be worth the carriage, he
would be content to £0 10 Eng ae , and Halbe en ce his voyage
back to Bengal by the ¢ Comp: yany’s shiy
Having resolved upon this, we agreed aS it if our Portuguese

pilot would go pe us, we would bear his. chi irges to Moscow,

 

 

or to England, f he please d; nor, indeed, were we to be es-
te semed over-generous in that neither, if we had not rew: sie ed
him further, the service he had done us being really worth

more than that; for he had not only been a pil - to us at sea,

but he had been like a broker for us on shore ; and his procuring
for us the Japan merchant was some hundreds of pounds in our
pockets. So we consulted together about it, and being willing
to gratify him, which was but doing him justice, and very

willing also to have him with us besides, for he was a Host
necessary man on all occasions, we agreed to give him a quan-

tity of coined gold, which, as I compute it, came to about one
hundred and seventy-five pounds sterling ‘between us, and to
bear all his charges, both for himself and horse, e xcept only a
horse to carry his ezoods. Having settled this between our-
selves, we called him to let him know what we had resolved.

I told hi as he had complained of our being to let him go back
alone, and I was now to tell him we were resolved he should
not go back at all; that as we had resolved to go to Europe
with the caravan, we resolved also he should go with us; ai
that we called him to know his mind. He shook his head, and
said, it was a long journey, and he had no pecune to carry him
thither r, or to subsist himself when he came there. We told
him we believed it was so, and therefore we had resolved to do
something for him that should let him see how sensible we
were of the service he had done us, and also how agreeable he
was to us; and then I told him what we had resolved to give
him here, ‘which he might lay out as we would do our own: ;
and that as for his charges, if he would go with us we would
set him safe on shore (life and casualties excepted) either in
Muscovy or England, which he would, at our own charge,
except only the carriage of his goods. He received the pro-
posal like a man transported, and told us he would go with
us over the whole world; and so we all p prepared for our jourKOBINSON CRUSOE. 397

ney. However, as it was with us, so it was with the other
merchants ; they had many things to do; and instead of being
ready in five w it was four months and some days before
all things were got togeth 3

Tt was the beginning of iary, our style, when we set out
from Pekin. My partner and the old pilot had gone express
back to the port where we had first put in, to dispose of some
goods which we had left there; and I, witha Chinese merchant,
whom I had some knowledge of at Nanquin, and who came to
Pekin on his own affairs, went to Nanquin, where | bought
ninety pieces of fine damasks, with about two hundred pieces
of other very fir s of sever s, some mixed with gold,
and had all thes ht to Pekin against my partner’s return ;
besides this, we bought a very large quantity of raw silk, and
some other goods, our cargo amounting, in these goods only,
to about three thousand five hundred pounds sterling; which,
together with tea, and some fine calicoes, and three camels’
loads of nutmegs and cloves, loaded in all eighteen camels for
our share, besides those we rode upon; which, with two or
three spare horses, and two horses loaded with provisions,
made us, in short, twenty-six camels and horses in our retinue.

The company was very great, and, as near as [ can remem-
ber, made between three and four hundred horse, and upwards
of one hundred and twenty men, very well armed, and pro-
vided for al] events; for as the Eastern caravans are subject to be
attacked by the Arabs, so are these by the Tartars; but they
are not altogether so dangerous as the Arabs, nor so barbarous,
when they prevail. “!

The company consisted of people of several nations ; but
there were above sixty of them merchants or inhabitants of
Moscow, though of them some were Livonians ; and, to our
particular satisfaction, five of them were Scots, who appeared
also to be men of great experience In business, and of very
good substance.
> ‘When we had travelled one day’s journey, the guides, who
were five in number, called all the gentlemen and merchants,
that is to say, all the passengers except the servants, to a great
council, as they called it. At this council every one aeposited
a certain quantity of money to a common stock, for the neces-
sary expense of buying forage on the way, where it was not
otherwise to be had, and for satisfying the guides, getting
horses, and the like; and here they constituted the journey, as
they call it, viz. they named cap ins and officers to draw us
all up, and give the word of command, in case of an attack, and
vive every one their turn of command ; nor was this forming us
ito order any more than what we found needful upon the way,
as shall be observed.

The road all on this side of the country 1s very populous,
and is full of potters and earth makers, that is to say, peopleSete CCM MEIES St

EST mene Neng

LEMS MST ET

   

398 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

that temper the earth for the China ware ; and as I was coming
along, our Portugal pilot, who had always something or other
to say to make us merry, came sneering to me, and told me he
would show me the greatest rarity in all the country, and that
I should have this to say of China, after all the ill-humored
things I had said of it, that I had seen one thing which was
not to be seen in all the world beside. I was very importunate
to know what it was: at last he told me it. was a gentleman’s
house built with China ware. ‘‘ Well,” says I, ‘“‘are not the
materials of their buildings the product of their own country,
and so it is all China ware, is it not ?’”’—‘‘ No, no,” says he,
‘‘ | mean it is a house all made of China ware, such as you call
it in England, or, as it is called in our country, porcelain.”
—‘« Well,” says I, “‘ such a thing may be; how big is it? Can
we carry it in a box upon a camel? If we can, we will buy it.”
—‘‘ Upon a camel!” says the old pilot, holding up both his
hands; “‘ why, there is a family of thirty people lives in it.”

I was then curious, indeed, to see it; and when I came to it,
it was nothing but this: it was a timber house, or a house built,
as we call it in England, with lath and plaster; but all this
plastering was really China ware, that is to say, it was plaster-
ed with the earth that makes China ware. Theoutside, which
the sun shone hot upon, was glazed, and looked very well, per-
fectly white, and painted with blue figures, as the large China
ware in England is painted, and hard as if it had been burned.
As to the inside, all the walls, instead of wainscot, were lined
with hardened and painted tiles, like the little square tiles we
call galley-tiles in England, all made of the finest China, and
the figures exceeding tine, indeed, with extraordinary variety
of colors, mixed with gold, many tiles making but one figure,
but joined so artificially, the mortar being made of the same
earth, that it was very hard to see where the tiles met. ‘The
floors of the rooms were of the same composition, and_as hard
as the earthen floors we have in use in several parts of England ;
as hard as stone, and smooth, but not burned and painted, ex-
cept some smaller rooms, like closets, which were all as it were
paved with the same tile: the ceiling, and all the plastering
work in the whole house, were of the same earth ; and, after all,
the roof was covered with tiles of the same, but of a deep, shi-
ning black. This was a China warehouse, indeed, truly and
literally to be called so; and had L not been upon the journey,
I could have staid some days to see and examine the particulars
of it. They told me there were fountains and fish-ponds in
the garden, all paved on the bottom and sides with the same ;
and fine statues set up in rows on the walks, entirely formed
of the porcelain earth, and burned whole.

As this is one of the singularities of China, so they may be
allowed to excel in it 5 but | am very sure they excel in their
accounts of it; for they told me such incredible things of their
performance in crockery ware,—for such it is,—that I care notROBINSON CRUSOE. 399

to relate, as knowing it could not be true. They told me, in
particular, of one workman that made a ship with all its tackle,
and masts and sails, in earthern ware, big enough to carry fifty
men. If they had told me he launched it, and made a voyage
to Japan in it, I might have said something to it, indeed; but
as it was, I knew the whole of the story, which was, in short,
asking epee for the word, that the fellow lied: so I smiled,
and said nothing to it.

This odd sight kept me two hours behind the caravan, for
which the leader of it for the day fined me about the value of
three shillings, and told me, if it had been three days’ journey
without the wall, as it was three days within, he must have
fined me four times as much, and made me ask pardon the
next council-day : I promised to be more orderly ; and, indeed,
I found afterwards the orders made for keeping all together
were absolutely necessary for our common safety.

In two days more we passed the great China wall, made for
a fortification against the T'artars; and a very great work it is,
going over hills and mountains in a needless track, where the
rocks are impassable, and the precipices such as no enemy
could possibly-enter, or indeed climb up, or where, if they did,
no wall could hinder them. They tell us its length is near a
thousand English miles, but that the country Is five hundred in
a straight, measured line, which the wall bounds, without ieas-
uring the windings and turnings it takes; it 1s about four
fathoms high, and as many thick in some places.

[I stood still an hour, or thereabouts, without trespassing our
orders (for so long the caravan was in passing the gate) to look
at it on every side, near and far off; L mean that was within
my view; and the guide of our caravan, who bad been extolling
it for the wonder of the world, was mighty eager to hear my
opinion of it. I told him it was a most excellent thing to keep
out the Tartars; which he happened not to understand as If
meant it, and so took it for a compliment; but the old pilot
laughed : “« O, Seignior Inglese,”’ says he, ‘“‘ you speak in col-
ors.’”’—‘‘ In colors!” said I; ‘‘ what do you mean by that?
—‘‘ Why you speak what looks white this way and black that
way; gay one way, and dull another. You tell him it is a
good wall to keep out Tartars ; you tell me by that it 1s. good
for nothing but to keep out ‘Tartars. I understand you, Seign-
ior Inglese; I understand you; but Seignior Chinese under-
stood you his own way.”—“ Well,” says I, “‘seignior, do you
think it would stand out an army of our country people, with
a good train of artillery, or our engineers, with two companies
of miners? Would not they batter 1t down in ten days, that an
army might enter in battalia ; or blow it up in the alr, founda-
tion and all, that there should be no sign of atlettdecs Het
ay,” says he, ‘‘1 know that.”” The Chinese wanted: mightily
to know what I said, and I gave him leave to tell him a fewSR MeeeERe ne TINT

  

400 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
days after, for we were then almost out of their country, and he
was to leave us in a Jittle time after this; but when he knew
what I said, he was dumb all the rest of the way, and we heard
no more of his fine story of the Chinese power and greatness
while he staid.

After we passed this mighty nothing, called a wall, some-
thing like the Picts’ wall, so famous in Northumberland, built
by the Romans, we began to find the country thinly inhabited,
and the people rather confined to live in fortified towns and
cities, as being subject to the roads and depredations of the
‘Tartars, who rob in great armies, and therefore are not to be
resisted by the naked inhabitants of an open country. And
here I began to find the necessity of keeping together in a
caravan as we travelled, for we saw several troops of Tartars
roving about ; but when I came to see them distinctly, I won-
dered more that the Chinese empire could be conquered by
such contemptible fellows ; for they are a mere horde of wild
fellows, keeping no order, and understanding nodiscipline or
manner of fight. ‘Their horses are poor, lean creatures, taught
nothing, and fit for nothing ; and this we found the first day
we saw them, which was after we entered the wilder part of
the country. Our leader for the day gave leave for about
sixteen of us to go a hunting, as they call it, and what was this
but hunting of sheep! however, it may be called hunting too,
for the creatures are the wildest and swiftest of foot that ever I
saw of their kind; only they will not run a great way, and
you are sure of sport when you begin the chase, for they ap-
pear generally thirty or forty in a flock, and, like true sheep,
always keep together when they fly.

In pursuit of this odd sort of game, it was our hap to meet
with about forty 'Tartars ; whether they were hunting mutton
as we were, or whether they looked for another kind of prey,
we knew not; but as soon as they saw us, one of them blew a
kind of horn very loud, but with a barbarous sound that I had
never heard before, and, by the way, never care to hear again *
we all supposed this was ‘to call their friends about them, and
so it was; for in less than ten minutes a troop of forty or fifty
more appeared at about a mile distance; but our work was
over first, as it happened.

One of the Scots merchants of Moscow happened to be
amongst us, and as soon as he heard the horn he told us that
we had nothing to do put to charge them immediately, with-
out loss of time; and drawing us up in a line, he asked if we
were resolved. We told him we were ready to follow him 3. so
he rode directly towards them. They stood gazing at us like
a mere crowd, drawn up in no order, nor showing the face of
any order at all; but as soon as they saw us advance, they
let fly their arrows, which, however, missed us very hap-
pily ; it seems they mistook not their aim, but their distance -ROBINSON CRUSOE. 401

for their arrows all fell a little short of us, but with so true an
min, that had we been about twenty yards nearer, we must
Baye had several men wounded, if not killed.

Immediately we las and. though it was at a great dis-
tance, we fired, and sent aoe leaden bullets for woeden
arrows, following our shot full ¢ gallop, to fall in among them
sword in hand, for so our bold Scot that led us directed. He
was, indeed, but a merchant; but he behaved with that vigor
and bravery on this occasion, “and yet with such cool courage
too, that I never saw am man in action fitter for command.
As soon as we came up ‘to them, we fired our pistols in their

s, and then drew; but they fled in the greatest confusion
ginable. ‘The only stand any of them made was on our
where three of them stood, and by signs, called the rest

to come back to them, having-a kind of Gumcier in their hands,
and their bows hanging totheir backs. Our brave command-
er, without asking any body to follow him, gallops up close
to ‘them, and wi ith his fusee knocks one of them off his horse,

killed the second with his pistol, and the third ran away ; and
thus ended our fight; but we had this misfortune attending it,
that all our mutton we had in chase cot away. We had nota
man killed or hurt; but as for the Tartars, there were about
five of them killed: how many were wounded we knew not,

but this we knew, that the other party were so frizhtened
with the noise of our guns, that they made off, and never made
any attempt upon us.

We were all this while in the Chinese dominions, and there-
fore the T‘artars were not so pele as afterwards; but in about
five days we entered a vast, gre reat, wild desert, which held us
three days’ and nights’ mie and we were obliged to carry
our water with us in great leathern bottles , and to encamp all
night, just as I have heard they do in the desert of ‘Arabite

T asked our guides whose dominion this was in; and they
told me this was a kind of border, that might be called no
man’s land, being a part of Great Karakathay , or Grand TVar-
tary; but, how ever, It was all reckoned as belor ng to China,
but that there was no care taken here to pre e it from the
inroads of thieves, and therefore it was reckoned the worst
desert in the whole march, though we were to go over some
much larger. ;

In passing this wilderness, which was at first very frightful
to me, we saw, two or three e times, little parties of the Tartars,
but they seemed to be upon their own affairs, and to have no
design upon us; and so, like the man w ho met the devil, if
they had nothing to say to us, we had nothing to say to them ; :
we let them go. Once, however, a party of them came so
near as to stand and gaze at us; ‘whether it was to consider
if they should attack us or not, we knew not; but when weARERR RRC: TIA

me

5 As MLE Hg 38

    

 

403 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
were passed at some distance by them, we made a rear-guard
of forty men, and stood ready for them, letting the caravan
pass half a mile or thereabouts before us; but after a while
they marched off; only we found they saluted us with five
-arrows at their parting, one of which wounded a horse, so that
it disabled him, and we left him the next day, poor creature,
in great need of a good farrier ; they might shoot more arrows,
which might fall short of us, but we saw no more arrows or
Tartars that time.

We travelled near a month after this, the ways not being so
good as at first, though still in the dominions of the emperor
of China, but lay for the most part in villages, some of which
were fortified, because of the incursions of the ‘Tartars.
When we were come to one of these towns (it was about twa
days and a half’s journey before we were to come to the city
of Naum), I wanted to buy a camel, of which there are plenty
to be sold all the way upon that road, and horses also, such as
they are, because so many caravans coming that way they are
often wanted. The person that I spoke to, to get me a camel,
would have gone and fetched one for me; but I, like a fool,
must be officious, and go myself along with him: the place
was about two miles out of the village, where it seems they kept
the camels and horses feeding under a guard.

I walked it on foot, with my old pilot and a Chinese, being
very desirous of a little variety. When we came to the place,
it was a low, marshy ground, walled round with a Stone wall,
piled up dry, without mortar or earth among it, like a_park,
with a little guard of Chinese soldiers at the door. Having
bought a camel, and agreed for the price, I came away, and the
Chineseman that went with me led the camel, when ona sud-
den came up five Tartars on horseback ; two of them seized
the fellow and took the camel from him, while the other three
stepped up tomeand my old pilot, seeing us, as it were unarmed,
for I had no weapon about me but my sword, which could but
ill defend me against three horsemen. ‘The first that came up
stopped short upon my drawing my sword, for they are arrant
cowards ; but a second, coming upon my left, gave me a blow
on the head, which I never felt till afterwards, and wondered,
when I came to myself, what was the matter, and where I was,
for he laid me flat on the ground; but my never-failing old
pilot, the Portuguese (so Providence, unlooked for, directs de-
Hrereees from dangers which to us are unforeseen), had a
pistol in his pocket, which I knew nothing of, nor the ‘Tartars
neither ; if they had, I suppose they would not have attacked
us ; but cowards are always boldest when there is no danger.
The old man seeing me down, with a bold heart stepped up to
the fellow that had struck me, and laying hold of his arm with
one hand, and pulling him down by main force a little towards
him with the other, shot him in the head, and laid tim deadROBINSON CRUSOE. 403

upon the spot. He then immediately stepped up to him who
had stopped us, as I said, and before he could come forward
again, made a blow at him with a cimeter which he always
wore, but missing the man, cut his horse in the side of his
head, cut one of the ears off by the root, and a great slice down
by the side of his face. The poor beast, enraged with the
wound, was no more to be governed by his rider, though the
fellow sat well enough too, but away he flew, and carried him
quite out of the pilot’s reach; and at some distance rising upon
his hind legs, threw down the Tartar, and fell upon him.

In this interval, the poor Chinese came in who had lost the
camel, but he had no weapon: however, seeing the ‘Tartar
down, and his horse fallen upon him, away he runs to him,
and seizing upon an ugly, ill-favored weapon he had by hisside,
something like a pole-axe, but nota pole-axe neither, he wrench-
ed it from him, and made shift to knock his Tartarian brains
out with it. But my old man had the third Tartar to deal with
still; and seeing he did not fly, as he expected, nor come on to
fight him, as he apprehended, but stand stock still, the old man
stood still too, and fell to work with his tackle, to charge his
pistol again ; but as soon as the Tartar saw the pistol, away he
scoured, and left my pilot—my champion I called him atfter-
wards—a complete victory.

By this time I was a little recovered; for I thought when I
first began to wake, that I had been in a sweet sleep; but, as I
said above, | wondered where I was, how I came upon the
ground, and what was the matter ; but in a few moments after,
as sense returned, I felt pain, though I did not know where; so
I clapped my hand to my head, and took it away bloody ; then
I felt my head ache ; and then, in a moment, memory returned,
and every thing was present to me again. I jumped upon my
feet instantly, and got hold of my sword, but no enemies i
view: I found a Tartar lie dead, and his horse standing very
quietly by him; and, looking farther, I saw my champion and
deliverer, who had been to see what the Chinese had done, com-
ing back with his hanger in his hand: the old man, se¢
on my feet, came running to me, and embraced me with a great
deal of joy, being afraid before that I had been killed; and sce-
ing me bloody, would see how I was hurt; but it was not mucn,
only what we call a broken head ; neither did I afterwards find
any great inconvenience from the blow, for it was well again in
two or three days.

We made no great gain,
a camel and gained a horse ; |!
when we came back to the vill
paid for the camel ; I disputed

however, by this victory, for we lost
but that which was remarkable,
age, the man demanded to be
it, and it was brought toa hear-

: Bee : nee mW aa : lee
ing before the Chinese judge of the place. To give him his

of prudence and impartiality ;

due, he acted with a great deal tia
: ‘ he gravely asked the Chinese

and, having heard both sides,FR RRR eh

SS DRG COT

  

ADA ROBINSON CRUSOE.

man that went with me to buy the camel, whose servant he
was. ‘Tam no servant,” says he, ‘‘ but went with the stran-
ger.”’—“* At whose request ?”’ says the justice. “ At the stran-
ger’s request,”’ says he. ‘‘ Why then,” says the justice, “ you
were the stranger’s servant for the time; and the camel being
delivered to his servant, it was delivered to him, and he must
pay for it.”

! confess the thing was so clear, that I had not a word to
say; but, admiring to see such just reasoning upon the con-
sequence, and an accurate stating of the case, | paid willingly
for the camel, and sent for another; but, you may observe, I
did not go to fetch it myself any more, for I had had enough
of that.

The city of Naum its a frontier of the Chinese empire ; they
call it fortified, and so it is as fortifications go there ; for this 1
will venture to affirm, that all the Tartars in Karakathay,
which, I believe, are some millions, could not batter down the
walls with their bows and arrows; but to call it strong, if it
were attacked with cannon, would be to make those who un-
derstand it laugh at you.

Ve wanted, as I have said, above two days’ journey of
this city, when messengers were sent express to every part of
the road to tell all travellers and caravans to halt till they had
a guard sent for them; for that an unusual body of Tartars,
making ten thousand in all, had appeared in the way, about
thirty miles beyond the city.

This was very bad news to travellers; however, it was care-
fully done of the governor, and we were very glad to hear we
should have a guard. Accordingly, two days after, we had
two hundred soldiers sent us from a garrison of the Chinese,
on our left, and three hundred more from the city of Naum,
and with these we advanced boldly; the three hundred sol-
diers from Naum marched in our front, the two hundred in
our rear, and our men on each side of our camels, with our
baggage, and the whole caravan in the centre; in this order,
and well prepared for battle, we thought ourselves a match
for the whole ten thousand Mogul Tartars, if they had ap-
peared ; but the next day, when they did appear, it was quite
another thing.

It was early in the morning, when, marching from a well-
situated little town, called Changu, we had a river to pass,
which we were obliged to ferry ; and, had the Tartars had any
intelligence, then had been the time to have attacked us,
when the caravan being over, the rear-guard was behind ; “but
they did not appear there. About three hours after, when
we were entered upon a desert of about fifteen or sixteen miles
over, behold, by a cloud of dust they raised, we saw an enemy
was at hand; and they were at hand, indeed, for they came
on upon the spur.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 405

The Chi «se, our guard on the front, who had talked so
big the day before, began to stagger; and the soldiers fre-
ony looked behind them, which is a certain sign in a sol

ier that he is just ready to run away. My old pilot was of
my mind; and, being near me, called out, ‘‘ Seignior Inglese,”
says he, “ those fellows must be encouraged, or they will ruin
us all; for if the Vartars come on, they will never stand it.”
2 I am of your mind,” said I; “but what must be done?”

Done!”’ says he, “‘let fifty of our men advance, and flank
them on each wing, and encourage them; and they will fight
like brave fellows, in brave company; but without this, they
will every man turn his back.” Immediately I rode up to
our leader, and told him, who was exactly of our mind; and
accordingly fifty of us marched to the right wing, and fifty to
the left, and the rest made a line of rescue; and so we marched,
leaving the last two hundred men to make a body by them-
selves, and to guard the camels; only that, if need were, they
should send a hundred men tv assist the last fifty.

In a word, the T'artars came on, and an innumerable com-
pany they were; how many we could not tell, but ten thou-
sand, we thought, was the least; a party of them came on
first, and viewed our posture, traversing the ground in the
front of our line; and, as we found them within gun-shot, our
leader ordered the two wings to advance swiftly, and give
them a salvo on each wing with their shot, which was done;
but they went off, and I suppose back, to give an account of
the reception they were like to meet with; and, indeed, that
salute cloyed their stomachs, for they immediately halted, stood
awhile to consider of it, and wheeling off to the left, they gave
over their design, and said no more to us for that time; which
was very agreeable to our circumstances, which were but
very indifferent for a battle with such a number.

T'wo days after, we came to the city of Naun, or Naum; we
thanked the governor for his care of us, and collected to the
value of a hundred crowns, or thereabouts, which we gave to
the soldiers sent to guard us; and here we rested one day.
This is a garrison, indeed, and there were nine hundred
diers kept here; but the reason of it was, that formerly the
Muscovite frontiers lay nearer to them than they now do, the
Muscovites having abandoned that part of the country, which
lies from this city west for about two hundred miles, as deso-
late and unfit for use; and more especially being so very re-
mote, and so difficult to send troops thither for its defence ;
for we had yet above two thousand miles to Muscovy, properly
so called.

After this we passed

several great rivers, and two dreadful
deserts; one of which we were sixteen days passing over; andernst EIS:

> AR Re RPC

  

406 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
which, as I said, was to be called no man’s land; and, on the
13th of April, we came to the frontiers of the Muscovite do-
minions. I think the first town, or fortress, whichever it may
be called, that belonged to the czar of Muscovy, was called
Arguna, being on the west side of the river Arguna.

I could not but discover an infinite satisfaction that I was
so soon arrived in, as I called it, a Christian country, or, at
least, in a country governed by Christians; for though the
Muscovites do, in my opinion, but just deserve the name of
Christians, yet such they pretend to be, and are very devout
in their way. It would certainly occur to any man who travels
the world as I have done, and who had any power of reflection,
what a blessing it is to be brought into the world where the
name of God and a Redeemer is known, adored, and wor-
shipped; and not where the people, given up by Heaven to
strong delusions, worship the devil, and prostrate themselves
to stocks and stones; worship monsters, elements, horrid-
shaped animals, and statues or images of monsters. Nota
town or city we passed through but had their pagods, their
idols, and their temples, and ignorant people worshipping
even the works of their own hands. Now we came where, at
least, a face of the Christian worship appeared; where the
knee was bowed to Jesus; and whether ignorantly or not, yet
the Christian religion was owned, and the name of the true
God was called upon and adored; and it made my soul rejoice
to see it. I saluted the brave Scots merchant | mentioned
above with my first acknowledgment of this; and taking him
by the hand, I said to him, “‘ Blessed be God, we are once
again amongst Christians.” He smiled, and answered, ‘“ Do
not rejoice too soon, countryman; these Muscovites are but
an odd sort of Christians; and but for the name of it, you may
see very little of the substance for some months farther of our
journey.” —“ Well,” says I, “ but still it is better than pagan-
ism and worshipping of devils.” —‘ Why, I will tell you,” says
he, “‘except the Russian soldiers in the garrisons, and a few
of the inhabitants of the cities upon the road, all the rest of
this country, for above a thousand miles farther, is mhabited
by the worst and most ignorant of pagans.” And so, indeed,
we found it.

We were now launched into the greatest piece of solid
earth, if I understand any thing of the surface of the globe,
that is to be found in any part of the world; we had, at least,
twelve thousand miles to the sea, eastward ; two thousand to
the bottom of the Baltic Sea, westward; and above three thou-
sand, if we left that sea and went on west, to the British and
French channels; we had full five thousand miles to the Indian
or Persian Sea, south; and about eight hundred to the Frozen
Sea, north. Nay, if some people may be believed, there mightROBINSON CRUSOE. 407

be no sea -E49¢ 1

eRouyitto the northwest ea oo Tene ee none,

tor Miictied he Tard Ec 1d so had a continent of land
a, tne Lord Knows where; though I could give

some reasons why I believe that to be a mistake.

As we entered into the Muscovite dominions, a good while
before we came to any considerable towns, we had nothing to
observe there but this; first, that all the rivers run to the east ;
as | understood by the charts, which some in our caravan had
with them, it was plain all those rivers ran into the great river
Yamour, or Gamour ; which river, by the natural course of
it, must run into the East Sea, or Chinese Ocean. The story
they tell us, that the mouth of this river is choked up with
bulrushes of a monstrous growth, viz. three feet about, and
twenty or thirty feet high, I must be allowed to say, I believe
nothing of it; but, as its navigation is of no use, because there
is no trade that way, the Tartars, to whom it alone belongs,
dealing in nothing but cattle, so nobody, that ever I heard of,
has been curious enough either to go down to the mouth of it in
boats, or come up from the mouth of it in ships, as far as I
can find; but this is certain, that this river running east, in
she latitude of about fifty degrees, carries a vast concourse of
rivers along with it, and finds an ocean to empty itself in that
\atitude ; so we are sure of sea there.

Some leagues to the north of this river there are several con-
siderabie rivers, whose streams run as due north as the Yamour
runs east, and these are all found to join their waters with the
great river Tartarus, named so from the northernmost nations
of the Mogul Tartars, who, as the Chinese say, were the first
‘Tartars in the world; and who, as our geographers allege, are
the Gog and Magog mentioned in sacred story. ‘hese
rivers running all northward, as well as all the other rivers 1
am yet to speak of, make it evident that the Northern Ocean
bounds tie land also on that side; so that it does not seem
rational in the least to think that the land can extend itself to
join with America on that side, or that there is not a commu-
nication between the northern and eastern ocean; but of this
I shall say no more—it was my observation at that time, and
therefore I take notice of it in this place.

We now advanced from the river Arguna by easy and mod-
erate journeys, and were very visibly obliged to the care the
czar of Muscovy has taken to have cities and towns built in
as many places as it is possible to place them, where his sol-
diers keep garrison, something like the stationary soldiers
placed by the Romans in the remotest countries of them empire ;
some of which that I had read of were placed in Britain, for the
security of commerce, and for the lodging travellers: and thus
it was here; for wherever we came, though at these towns
and stations the garrisons and governors were Russians and
professed Christians, yet the inhabitants were mere pagans;
sacrificing to idols, and worshipping the sun, moon, and stars,IE OTE oem

  

408 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

or all the host ofdheaven ; and not only so, but were, of all the
heathens and pagans that ever I met with, the most barbarous,
except only that they did not eat men’s flesh, as our savages of
America did.

Some instances of this we met with in the country between
Arguna, where we enter the Muscovite dominions, and a city
of T'artars and Russians together, called Nortziousky, in which
is a continued desert or forest, which cost us twenty days to
travel over. Ina village, near the last of these places, I had
the curiosity to go and see their way of living, which is most
brutish and unsufferable: they had, I suppose, a great sacrifice
that day ; for there stood out, upon an old stump of a tree, an
idol made of wood, frightful as the devil; at least, as any
thing we can think of to represent the devil can be made: it
had a head not so muchas resembling any creature that the world
ever saw; ears as big as goats’ horns, and as high; eyes as big
as a crown-piece; a nose like a crooked ram’s horn, and a
mouth extended, four-cornered, like that of a lion, with horrible
teeth, hooked like a parrot’s under-bill: it was dressed up in
the filthiest manner that you could suppose : its upper garment
was of sheep-skins, with the wool outward; a great Tartar
bonnet on the head, with two horns growing through it: it
was about eight feet high, yet had no feet or legs, nor any other
proportion of parts.

This scarecrow was set up at the outer side of the village;
and, when [ came near to it, there were sixteen or seventeen
creatures,—whether men or women I could not tell, for they
made no distinction by their habits,—all lying flat upon the
ground round this formidable block of shapeless wood: I saw
no motion among them any more than if they had been all logs
of wood, like the idol, and at first 1 really thought they had been
so; but, when I came a little nearer, they started up upon their
feet, and raised a howling cry as if it had been so many deep-
mouthed hounds, and walked away, as if they were displeased
at our disturbing them. A little way off from the idol, and at
the door of a tent or hut, made all of sheep-skins and cow-skins
dried, stood three butchers,—I thought they were such; when
I came nearer to them, I found they had long knives in their
hands ; and in the middle of the tent appeared three sheep killed,
and one young bullock or steer. These, it seems, were sacri-
fices to that senseless log of an idol; the three men were
priests belonging to it, and the seventeen prostrated wretches
were the people who brought the offering, and were making
their prayers to that stock.

I confess I was more moved at their stupidity and brutish
worship of a hobgoblin than ever I was at any thing in my life;
to see God’s most glorious and best creature, to whom he had
granted so many advantages, even by creation above the rest
of the works of his hands, vested with a reasonable soul, andROBINSON CRUSOR. 409

éhat soul adorned with faculties and capacities adapted both te
honor his Maker and be honored by him, sunk and degenerated
to a degree so very stupid as to prostrate itself to a frightful
nothing, a mere imaginary object, dressed up by themselves,
and made terrible to themselves by their own contrivance, adorn-
ed only with clouts and rags; and that this should be the effect
of mere ignorance, wrought up into hellish devotion by the
devil himself, who, envying to his Maker the homage and
adoration of his creatures, had deluded them into such sordid
and brutish things as, one would think, should shock nature
itself !

But what signified all the astonishment and reflection of
thoughts ; thus it was, and I saw it before my eyes, and there
was no room to wonder at it, or think it impossible: all my ad-
miration turned to rage, and I rode up to the image or mon-
ster,—call it what you will,—and with my sword made a stroke
at the bonnet that was on its head, and cut it in two; ‘and one
of our men that was with me took hold of the sheep-skin that
covered it, and pulled at it; when, behold, a most hideous out-
ery and howling ran through the village, and two or three hun-
dred people came about my ears, so that I was glad to scour
for it, for we say some had bows and arrows; but I resolved
from that moment to visit them again.

Our caravan rested three nights at the town, which was
about four miles off, in order to provide some horses which they
wanted, several of the horses having been lamed and jaded with
the badness of the way, and long march over the last desert ; so
we had some leisure here to put my design in execution. IT
communicated my design to the Scots merchant of Moscow,
of whose courage I had sufficient testimony: I told him what
I had seen, and with what indignation I had since thought that
human nature could be so degenerate; I told him, if I could
get but four or five men well armed to go with me, I was re-
solved to go and destroy that vile, abominable idol, and let them
see that it had no power to help itself; and consequently cou!d
not be an object of worship, or to be prayed to, much !ess
help them that offered sacrifices to it.

He laughed at me:—says he, “‘ Your zeal may be good, but
what do you propose to.yourself by it?”—‘* Propose !”” said
I, ‘to vindicate the honor of God, which 1s insulted by this
devil-worship.”—“ But how will it vindicate the honor. ot
God,” said he, ‘while the people will not be able to know
what you mean by it, unless you could speak to them, and
tell them so? and then they will fight you, and beat you too,
Pll assure you; for they are desperate fellows, and that es-
pecially in defence of their idolatry.” —“ Can we not, said I,
‘do it in the night, and then leave them the reasons and the
causes in writing in their own language ?’”—‘‘ Writing!” said
he; ‘why there is not a man in five nations of them that knows

18

-

wig.

sR le ese cee ATOR

Ce ali LAAT RIS:

ame

¥noheninmies

410 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

any thing of a letter, or how to read a word any way.”—
«Wretched ignorance!” said I to him: ‘‘ however, [ have a
great mind to do it; perhaps nature may draw inferences from
it to them, to let them see how brutish they are to worship
such horrid things.’’—‘‘ Look you, sir,” said he, ‘if your zeai
prompts you to it so warmly, you must do it; but, in the next
place, I would have you consider, these wild nations of people
are subjected by force to the czar of Muscovy’s dominion,
and if you do this, it is ten to one but they will come by thou-
sands to the governor of Nertsinkay, and demand satisfaction ;
and if he cannot give them satisfaction, it is ten to one but
they revolt; and it will occasion a new war with all the Tar-
tars in the country.”

This, I confess, put new thoughts into my head for a while,
but I harped upon the same string still; and all that day Iwas
uneasy to put my project in execution. ‘Towards the evening,
the Scots merchant met me by accident in our walk about the
town, and desired to speak with me: ‘‘I believe,” said he, “I
have put you off your good design; I have been a little con-
cerned about it since; for I abhor idolatry as much as you can
do.”—‘‘ Truly,” said I, “‘ you have put it off a little, as to the
execution of it, but you have not put it out of my thoughts
and 1 believe I shall do it before I quit this place, though I were
to be delivered up to them for satisfaction.” —‘ No, no,” said
he, “‘ God forbid they should deliver you up to such a crew of
monsters! they shall not do that neither; that would be mur-
dering you indeed.”—‘‘ Why,” said I, ‘‘ how would they use
me?’”—‘‘Use you!” said he, ‘ll tell you how they served
a poor Russian, who affronted them in their worship, just as
you did, and whom they took prisoner, after they had lamed him
with an arrow, that he could not run away; they took him
and stripped him stark naked, and set him upon the top of the
idol-monster, and stood all round him, and shot as many arrows
into him as would stick over his whole body ;.and then they
burnt him, and all the arrows sticking in him, as a sacrifice to
the idol.’?—‘‘ And was. this the same idol?” said I. ‘“‘ Yes,”
said he, ‘‘ the very same.’”’—‘‘ Well,” said I, ‘‘I will tell you
astory.” Sol related the story of our men at Madagascar,
and how they burnt and sacked the village there, and killed
man, woman, and child, for their murdering one of our men,
just as it is related before; and I added, that 1 thought we
ought to do so to this village.

e listened very attentively to the story; but when I
talked of doing so to that village, said he, “‘ You mistake very
much ; it was not this village; it was almost a hundred miles
from this place; but it was the same idol, for they carry him
about in procession all over the country.”—‘‘ Well,” said I,
“then that idol ought to be punished for it; and it shall,”’ said
I, ‘if I live this night out.”

In a word, finding me resolute, he liked the design, andROBINSON CRUSOE. 4it

told me I should not go alone, but he would go with me;
but he would go first and bring a stout fellow, one of his
countrymen, to go also with us; ‘‘ and one,” said he, ‘as
famous for his zeal as you can desire any one to be against
such devilish things as these.’ In a word, he brought me
his comrade, a Scotsman, whom he called Captain Richard-
son; and I gave him a full account of what I had seen,
and also what I intended; and he told me readily, he would
go with me if it cost him his life. So we agreed to go, only
we three. I had, indeed, proposed it to my partner; but he
declined it. He said, he was ready to assist me to the utmost,
and upon all oceasions for my defence; but this was an ad-
renture quite out of his way; so, I say, we resolved upon our
work, only we three and my man-servant, and to put it. in
execution that night about midnight, with all the secrecy im-
aginable.

However, upon second thoughts, we were willing to delay
it till the next night, because the caravan being to set forward
in the morning, we supposed the governor could not pretend
to give them any satisfaction upon us when we were out of his
power. he Scots merchant, as steady in his resolution for
the enterprise as bold in executing, brought me a Tartar’s
robe or gown of sheep-skins, and a bonnet, with a bow and
arrows, and had provided the same for himself and his coun-
tryman, that the people, if they saw us, should not determine
who we were.

All the first night we spent in mixing up some combustible
matter with aqua vite, gunpowder, and such other materials
as we could get; and, having a good quantity of tar in a
little pot, about an hour after night we set out upon our
expedition.

Ne came to the place about eleven o'clock at night, and
found that the people had not the least jealousy of danger at-
tending their idol. The night was cloudy ; yet the moon gave
us light enough to see that the idol stood just in the same posture
and place that it did before. The people seemed to be all at
their rest; only, that in the great hut, or tent, as we called it,
where we saw the three priests whom we mistook for butchers,
‘we saw.a light; and going up close to the door, we heard
people talking as if there were five or six of them; we con-
cluded, therefore, that if we set wildfire to the idol, these men
would come out immediately, and run up to the place to res-
cue it from the destruction that we intended for it; and what
to do with them we knew not. Once we thought of carrying
it away and setting fire to it at a distance, but when we came
to handle it, we found it too bulky for our carriage ; so we
were at a loss again. The second Scotsman was for setting
Fre to the tent or hut, and knocking the creatures that wer”412 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

there on the head, when they came out; but I could not join
with that; | was against killing them, if it were possibe to
avoid it. ‘‘ Well, then,” said the Scots merchant, “‘ I wil. tell
you what we will do; we will try to make them prisoners,
tie their hands, and make them stand and see their idol
destroyed.”

As it happened, we had twine or packthread enough about
us, which we used to tie our firelocks together with; so we re-
solved to attack these people first, and with as little noise as we
could. The first thing we did, we knocked at the door, when
one of the priests coming to it, we immediately seized upon
him, stopped his mouth, and tied his hands behind him, and led
him to the idol, where we gagged him, that he might not make
a noise, tied his feet also together, and left him on the ground.

Two of us then waited at the door, expecting that another
would come out, to see what the matter was; but we waited so
long till the third man came back to us; and then nobody com-
ing out, we knocked again gently, and immediately out came
two more, and we served them just in the same manner, but’
were obliged to go all with them, and lay them down by the
idol some distance from one another; when, going back, we
found two more were come out to the door, and a third stood
behind them within the door. We seized the two, and imme-
diately tied them, when the third stepping back, and crying
out, my Scots merchant went in after him, and, taking out a
composition we had made, that would only smoke and stink,
he set fire to it, and threw it in among them: by that time the
other Scotsmay, and my man, taking charge of the two men al-
ready bound, and tied together also by the arm, led them away
to the idol, and left them there to see if their idol would relieve
them, making haste back to us.

When the furze we had thrown in had filled the hut with so
much smoke that they were almost suffocated, we then *hrew
in a small leather bag of another kind, which flamed like a can-
dle, and following it in, we found there were but four people,
and, as we supposed, had been about some of their diabolic
sacrifices. ‘l'hey appeared, in short, frightened to death, ar
least so as to sit trembling and stupid, and not able to speak
neither, for the smoke.

In a word, we took them, bound them as we had done the
other, and all without any noise. I should have said we brought
them out of the house, or hut, first ; for indeed we were not able
to bear the smoke any more than they were. When we had
done this, we carried them all together to the idol: when we
came there, we fell to work with him; and first we daubed him
all over, and his robes also, with tar, and such other stuff as we
had, which was tallow mixed with brimstone; then we stopped
his eyes, and ears, and mouth full of gunpowder ; then we wrap-ROBINSON CRUSOE.

ped up a great piece of wildfire in his bonnet ; and then stick-
ing all the combustibles we had brought with us upon him, we
looked about to see if we could find any thing else to help to
burn him; when my Scotsman remembered that by the tent,
or hut, where the men were, there lay a heap of dry forage,
whether straw or rushes I do not remembér ; away he and the
other Scotsman ran, and fetched their arms full of that. When
we had done this, we took all our prisoners, and brought them,
having untied their feet and ungagged their mouths, and made
them stand up, and set them before their monstrous idol, and
then set fire to the whole.

We staid by it a quarter of an hour, or thereabouts, till the
powder in the eyes, and mouth, and ears of the idol blew up,
and, as we could perceive, had split and deformed the shape of
it; and,.in a word, till we saw it burnt into a mere block or log
of wood; and setting dry forage to it, we found it would be soon
quite consumed ; so we began to think of going away ; but the
Scotsman said, ‘‘ No; we must not go, for these poor deluded
wretches will all throw themselves into the fire, and burn them-
selves with the idol.” So we resolved to stay till the forage
was burnt down too, and thén came away and leit them.

After the feat was performed, we appeared in the. morning
among our fellow-travellers, exceedingly busy in getting ready
for our journey ; nor could any man suggest that we had beenAIA ROBINSON CRUSOE.
- *

any where but in our beds, as travellers might be supposed

to be, to fit themselves for the fatigues of the day’s jourifey.

But the affair did not end so; the next day came a great num-
ber of the country people to the town-gates, and in a most out-
rageous manner demanded satisfaction of the Russian governor
for the insulting their priests, and burning their great Cham
Chi-Thaungu. ‘The people of Nertsinskay were at first in a
great consternation, for they said the Tartars were already no
less than thirty thousand strong. The Russian governor sent
out messengers to appease them, and gave them all the good
words imaginable ; assuring them that he knew nothing of it,
and that there had not a soul in bis garrison been abroad, so
that it could not be from any body there; but if they could let
him know who did it, they should be exemplarily punished.
They returned haughtily that all the country reverenced the
great Cham Chi-Thaungu, who dwelt in the sun, and no mor-
tal would have dared to offer violence. to his image but some
Christian miscreant; and they therefore resolved to denounce
war against him and all the Russians, who, they said, were
miscreants and Christians.

The governor, still patient, and unwilling to make a breach,
or to have any cause of war alleged to be given by him, the
czar having strictly charged them to treat the conquered
country with gentleness and civility, gave them still all the
good words he could. At last he told them there was a car-
avan gone towards Russia that morning, and perhaps it was
some of them who had done them this injury ; and that if they
would be satisfied with that, he would send after them to in-
quire into it. This seemed to appease them alittle; and ac-
cordingly the governor sent after us, and gave us a particular
account how the thing was; intimating withal, that if any in
our caravan had done it, they should make their escape: but
that whether we had done it or no, we should make all the
haste forward that was possible; and that, in the mean time, he
would keep them in play as long as he could.

This was very friendly in the governor ; however, when it
came to the caravan, there was nobody knew any thing of the
matter; and as for us that were guilty, we were least of all
suspected. However, the captain of the caravan for the time
took the hint that the governor gave us, and we travelled two
days and two nights without any considerable stop, and then
we lay at a village called Plothus; nor did we make any long
stop here, but hastened on towards Jarawena, another of the
czar of Muscovy’s colonies, and where we expected we should
be safe. But upon the second day’s march from Plothus, by
the clouds of dust behind us at a great distance, some of our
people began to be sensible we were pursued. We had en-
tered a great desert, and had passed y a great lake calledROBINSON CRUSOE. 415

Schaks Oser, when we perceived a very great body of horse
appear on the other side of the lake, to the north, we travelling
west. We observed they went aw:y west, as we did, but had
suppesed we would have taken that side of the lake, whereas
we very happily took the south side; and in two days more
they disappeared again; for they, believing we were still be-
fore them, pushed on till they came to the river Udda, a very
great river when it passes farther north ; but when we came to
it we found it narrow and fordable.

The third day they had either-found their mistake, or had
intelligence of us, and came pouring in upon us towards the
dusk of the evening. We had; to our great satisfaction, just
pitched upon a place for our camp, which was very conve-
nient for the night; for as we were upon a desert, though but
at the beginning of it, that was above five hundred miles over,
we had no towns to lodge at, and, indeed, expected none but
the city Jarawena, which we had yet two days’ march to;
the desert, however, had some few woods in it on this side, and
little rivers, which ran all into the great river Udda; it was in
a narrow strait, between little, but very thick woods, that we
itched our little camp for that night, expecting to be attacked

efore morning. _

Nobody knew but ourselves what we were pursued for,
but as it was usual for the Mogul Tartars to go about in troops
in that desert, so the caravans always fortify themselves every
night against them, as against armies of robbers; and it was
therefore no new thing to be pursued.

But we had this night, of all the nights of our travels, a most
advantageous camp; for we lay between two woods, with a
little rivulet running just before our front, so that we could not
be surrounded, or attacked any way but in our front or rear.
We took care also to make our front as strong as we could, by
placing our packs, with our camels and horses, all in a line,
on the inside of the river, and felling some trees 1n our rear.

In this posture we encamped for the night ; but the enemy
was upon us before we had finished our situation. They did
not come on us like thieves, as we expected, but sent three
messengers to us, to demand the men to be delivered to them
that had abused their priests, and burned their god Cham Chi-
Thaungu with fire, that they might burn them with fire; and
upon this, they said, they would go away, and do us no fur-
ther harm; otherwise they would destroy us all. Our men
looked very blank at this message, and began to stare at one
another, to see who looked with the most guilt in their faces ;
but, nobody was the word; nobody did it. The leader of the
caravan sent word he was well assured that it was not done by
any of our camp; that we were peaceable merchants, trav-
elling on our business ; that we had done no harm to them or
to any one else; and that, therefore, they must look furtherAI6 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
for their enemies who had injured them, for we were not the
people; so desired them not to disturb us, for, if they did, we
should defend ourselves.

They were far from being satisfied with this for an answer ;
and a great crowd of them came running down in the morn-
ing, by break of day, to our camp; but seeing us in such an
unaccountable situation, they durst come no farther than the
brook in our front, where they stood, and showed us such a
number that indeed terrified us very much; for those that
spoke least of them spoke of tei thousand. Here they stood
and looked at us a while, and then setting up a great howl,
they let fly a cloud of arrows among us; but we were well
enough fortified for that, for we sheltered under our baggage
and I do not remember that one of us was hurt.

Some time after this, we saw them move a little to our right,
aud expected them on the rear; when a cunning fellow, a
Cossack of Jarawena, in the pay of the Muscovites, calling to the
leader of the earavan, said to him, ‘I'll go send all these people
away to Siheilka.” This was a city four or five days’ journey
at least to the right, and rather behind us. So he takes his
bow and arrows, and getting on horseback, he rides away
from our rear directly, as it were baék to Nertsinskay ; after
this, he takes a great circuit about, and comes directly on the
army of the Tartars, as if he had been sent express to tell
them a long story that the people who had burnt the Chain
Chi-Thaungu were gone to Siheilka, with a caravan of mis-
creants, as he called them, that is to say, Christians; and that
wuey had resolved to burn the god Schal-Isar, belonging to
the Tongueses.

As this fellow was himself a mere Tartar, and perfectly
spoke their language, he counterfeited so well that they all
took it from him, and away they drove in a most violent hurry
to Siheilka, which, it seems, was five days’ journey to the
north ; and in less than three hours they were entirely out of
our sight, and we never heard any more of them, nor whether
they went to Siheilka or no. So we passed away safely on to
Jarawena, where there was a garrison of Muscovites, and
there we rested five days; the caravan being exceedingly
fatigued with the last day’s hard march, and with want of rest
in the night.

From this city we had a frightful desert, which held us twen-
ty-three days’ march. We furnished ourselves with some tents
here, for the better accommodating ourselves in the night; and
the leader of the caravan procured sixteen carriages or wag-
ons of the country, for carrying our water or provisions; and
these carriages were our defence, every night, round our little
camp ; so that had the Tartars appeared, unless they had been
very numerous indeed, they would not have been able te
hurt us.ROBINSON CRUSOE. 417

We may well be supposed to want rest again after this long
journey ; for in this desert we neither saw house nor tree, and
scarce a bush; though we saw abundance of the sable hunters,
who are all Tartars of the Mogul Tartary, of which this coun-
try isa part; and they frequently attack small caravans, but
we saw no numbers of them together.

After we had passed this desert, we came into a country
pretty well inhabited; that is to say, we found towns and
castles, settled by the czar of Muscovy, with garrisons of sta-
tionary soldiers, to protect the caravans, and defend the country
against the Tartars, who would otherwise make 1 very danger-
ous travelling; and his czarish majesty has given such strict
orders for the well guarding the caravans and merchants, that,
if there are any Tartars heard of in the country, detachments
of the garrisons are always sent to see the travellers safe from
station to station. And thus the governor of Adinskoy, whom
I had an opportunity to make a visit to, by means of the Scots
merchant, .who was acquainted with him, offered us a guard
of fifty men, if we thought there was any danger, to the next
station.

I thought, long before this, that, as we came nearer to Europe,
we should find the country better inhabited, and the people
more civilized ; but I found myself mistaken in both; for we
had yet the nation of the ‘Tongueses to pass through, where we
saw the same tokens of paganism and barbarity as before; only,
as they were conquered by the Muscovites, they were not so
dangerous ; but for rudeness of manners, and idolatry, no peo-
ple in the world ever went beyond them; they are clothed all
in skins of beasts, and their houses are built of the same; you
know not.a man from a woman, neither by the ruggedness of
‘heir countenances nor their clothes; and in the winter, when
the ground is covered with snow, they live under ground in
vaults, which have cavities going from one to another.

If the ‘Fartars had their. Cham Chi-Thaungu for a whole
village or country, these had idols in every hut and every cave:
besides, they worship the stars, the sun, the water, the snow,
and, in a word, every thing they do not understand, and they
understand but very little ; so that every element, every uncom
mon thing, sets them a sacrificing. I met with nothing pecu-
liar to myself in all this country, which I reckon was, from the
desert I spoke of last, at least four hundred miles, half of it
being another desert, which took us up twelve days’ severe
travelling, without house or tree; and we were obliged again
to carry our own provisions, as well water as bread. After we
were out of this desert, and had travelled two days, we came
to Janezay, a Muscovite city or station on the great river Jane-
zay, which, they told us there, parted Europe trom Asia-

‘Here 1 observed ignorance and paganism still prevailed, ex-
cept in the M uscovite garrisons: all the country between the418 ROBINSON CRUSOR.

river Oby and the river Janezay is as entirely pagan, and the
‘people as barbarous, as the remotest of the Tartars; nay, as
any nation, for aught I know, in Asia or America. I also
found, which I observed to the Muscovite governors whom I
had an opportunity to converse with, that the poor pagans are
not much wiser, or nearer Christianity, for being under the
Muscovite government, which they acknowledged was true
enough; but that, as they said, was none of their business; that
if the czar expected to convert his Siberian, Tonguese, or
Tartar subjects, it should be done by sending clergymen among
them, not soldiers; and they added, with more sincerity than
I expected, that they found it was not so much the concern of
their monarch to make the people Christians as it was to make
them subjects.

From this river to the great river Oby, we crossed a wild,
uncultivated country, barren of people and good management ;
otherwise it is in itself a most pleasant, fruitful, and agreeable
country. What inhabitants we found in it are all pagans, ex-
cept such as are sent among them from Russia; for this is the
country, I mean on both sides the river Oby, whither the Mus-
covite criminals that are not put to death are banished, and from
whence it is next to impossible they should ever come away.

I have nothing material to say of my particular affairs till [
came to Tobolski, the capital city of Siberia, where I conti:
ued some time on the following occasion.

We had now been almost seven months on our journey, and
winter began to come on apace ; whereupon my partner and
I called a council about our particular affairs, in which we
found it proper, as we were bound for England, and not foi
Moscow, to consider how to dispose of ourselves. They told
us of sledges and rein-deer to carry us over the snow in the
winter time ; and, indeed, they have such things that it would
be incredible to relate the particulars of, by which means the
Russians travel more in tlie winter than they can in summer,
as in these sledges they are able to run night and day ; the snow,
being frozen, is one universal covering to nature, by which the
hills, vales, rivers, and lakes, are all smooth and hard as a stone,
and they run upon the surface, without any regard to what is
underneath.

But I had no occasion to push at a winter journey of this
kind ; I was bound to England, not to Moscow, and my route
lay two ways; either I must goon as the caravan went, till
came to Jaroslaw, and then go off west for Narva, and the Gulf
of Finland, and so to Dantzic, where I might possibly sell my
China cargo to good advantage ; or I must leave the caravan at
a little town on the Dwina, from whence I had but six days by
wattr to Archangel, and from thence might be sure of shipping
either to England, Holland, or Hamburgh.

Now togo any of these journeys in the winter would have been
preposterous ; for as to Dantzic, the Baltic would have beenROBINSON CRUSOE. 419

frozen up, and { could not get passage; and to go by land in
those countries was far less safe than among the Mogul ‘Tar-
tars; likewise, to goto Archangel in October, all the ships would
be gone from thence, and even the merchants who dwell there in
summer retire south to Moscow in the winter, when the ships
are gone; so that I could have nothing but extremity of cold
to encounter, with a scarcity of provisions, and must lie in an
empty town all the winter; so that, upon the whole, I thought
it much my better way to let the caravan go, and make provis-
ion to winter where I was, at Tobolski, in Siberia, in the lati-
tude of about sixty degrees, where I was sure of three things
to wear out a.cold winter with, viz. plenty of provisions, such
ag the country afforded, a warm house, with fuel enough, and
excellent company.

I was now in a quite different climate trom my beloved
island, where I never felt cold, except when | had my ague;
on the contrary, I had much to do to bear any clothes on my
back, and never made any fire but without, doors, which was
necessary for dressing my food, &c. Now I made me three
good vests, with large robes or gowns over them, to hang
down to the feet, and button close to the wrists ; and all these
lined with furs, to make them sufficiently warm.

As to a warm house, I must confess I greatly disliked our
way in England of making fires in every room in the house in
open chimneys, which, when the fire was out, always kept the
air in the room cold as the climate; but taking an apartment
in a good house in the town, I ordered a chimney to be built
like a furnace, in the centre of six several rooms, like a stove ;
the funnel to carry the smoke went up one way, the door to
come at the fire went in another, and all the rooms were kept
equally warm, but no fire seen, just as they heat the bagnios
in England. By this means, we had always the same climate
in all the rooms, and an equal heat was preserved ; and how
cold soever it was without, it was always warm within; and

et we saw no fire, nor were ever incommoded with smoke.

The most wonderful thing of all was, that it should be pos-
sible to meet with good company here, in a country so barba-
rous as that of the most northerly parts of Europe, near the
Frozen Ocean, within but a very few degrees of Nova Zembla.
But this being the country where the state criminals of Mus-
covy, as I observed before, are all banished, this city was full
of noblemen, gentlemen, soldiers, and courtiers of Muscovy.
Here was the famous Prince Galitzen, the old General Robos-
tiski, and several other persons of note, and some ladies. By
means of my Scots merchant, whom, nevertheless, I parted
with here, I made an acquaintance with several of these gen-
tlemen ; and from these, in the long winte’ nights in whizh I
staid here, I received several very agreeable visits

It was talking one night with Prince ~, one of the ban-CRUSOE

 

ROBINSON

 

426

ished ministers af state belonging to the czar of Muscays
that the discourse of my particular case began. He had beer
telling me abundance of fine things of the gre: ness, the mag:
nilicence, the dominions, and the ‘absolute power of the empe-
ror of the Russians: I interrupted him, and told him | was a
greater and more powerful prince than even the czar of Mus-
covy was, though my dominions were not so large, or my
people so many. The Russian grandee looked a “little sure
prised, and fixing his anes steadily upon me, began to wonder

what ! meant. 1 told him his wonder would cease when I
hae explained myself. First, I told him U-had absolute dispeo-
sil of the hves and fortunes of all my subjects; that notwith-
standing my .absolute power, I had not one person disaffected
to my government, or to my person, in all my dominions. He
shook his head at that, and said, there, indeed, 1 outdid the
ezar of Muscovy. I told him that all the lands in my king-
dom were my own, and all my subjects were not only my
tenants, but tenants at will; that they would all fight for me
to the last drop; and that never tyr: unt—for such f acknowl-
edged myself to be—was ever so universally beloved, and yet
Xe) horribly feared by his Fone

After amusing him with these riddles in government for

a wile, I opened the case, and told him the story at large of
my living in the island, and how I managed both myself and
the people that were under me, just as I have since minuted it
down. They were exceedingly taken with the story, and es-
pecially the prince, who told me, with a sigh, that the true
greatness of hfe was to be masters of ourselves s; that he would
not have exchanged such a state of life as mine to be ezar of
Muscovy ; and that he found more feli icity in the retirement he
seemed to be banished to there, than ever he found in the high-
est authority he enjoyed in the court of his master the. czar;
that the height of human wisdom was to bring our tempers
down to our circumstances, al to make a calm within, under
the weight of the greatest storms without. When he came first
hither, he said he ‘used to tear the hair from his head, ana the
clothes from his back, as others had done before him: but a
little time and consideration had made him look into himself,
as well as round him, to things without; that he found th
mind of man, if it was but once brought to reflect upon the
state of universal life, and how little tls world was concerned
in its true felicity, was perfectly capable of making a felicity
for itself, fully satisfying to itself, and suitable to its own best
ends and de: sires, with but very little assistance from the world
the air to breathe in, food to sustain life, clothes for warmth,
and liberty for exercise, in order to health, completed, in his
opinion, all that the world could do for ug and though the
Sreatness the authority, the riches, and the pleasures - whichROBINSON CRUSOE. 423

some enjoyed in the world, had much in them that was agree-
able to us, yet all those things chiefly gratified the coarsest of our
affections, such as our ambition, our particular pride, avarice,
vanity, and sensuality ; all which, being the mere product of the
worst part of man, were in themselves crimes, and had in them
the seeds of all manner of crimes; but neither were related to,
nor concerned with, any of those virtues that constituted us
wise men, or of those graces that distinguished us as Christians ;
that being now deprived Of all the fancied felicity which he en-
joyed in the full exercise of all those vices, he said he was at
eisure to look upon the dark side of them, where he found all
manner of deformity, and was now convinced that virtue only
makes a man truly wise, rich, and great, and preserves him in
the way to a superior happiness in a future state ; and in this,
he said, they were more happy in their banishment that all
their enemies were, who had the full possession of all the wealth
and power they had left behind them. ‘* Nor, sir,” says he,
“ do I bring my mind to this politically, by the necessity of my
circumstances, which some call miserable; but, if I know
any thing of myself, 1 would not now go back, though the ezar
my master should call me, and reinstate me in all my former
grandeur ; I say, I would no more go back to it than I believe
my soul, when it shall be delivered from this prison of the
body, and has had a taste of the glorious state beyond life,
would come back to the goal of flesh and blood it 1s now in-
closed in, and leave heaven, to deal in the dirt and crime of
human affairs.”

He spoke this with so much warmth in his temper, so much
earnestness and motion of his spirits, that it was evident it was
the true sense of his soul; there was no room to doubt his sin-
cerity. 1 told himl once thought myself a kind of monarch in
my old station, of which { had given him an account ; but that
I thought he was not only a monarch, but a great Conqueror 5
for that he that has got a victory over his own exorbitant de-
sires, and the absolute dominion over himself, whose reason
entirely governs his will, is certainly greater than he that con-
quers acity. “ But, my lord,” said I, * shall i take the liberty
to ask you a question 977+ With all my heart,” says hes iott
the door of your liberty was opened,” said I, ‘‘ would you not
take hold’ of it to deliver you from this exile 1’’—‘* Hold,” said
he; ‘‘ your question is subtle, and requires some serious, Just
distinctions, to give it a sincere answer ; and I will give it you
from the bottom of my heart. Nothing that I know of m this
world would move me to deliver myself from this state of, ban-
ishment, except these two 5 first, the enjoyment 6f my relations-;
and, secondly, a little warmer climate: but I protest to you,
that to go back to the pomp of the court, the glory, the power,
the hurry of a minister of state ; the wealth, the gayety, and the
pleasures of a courtier ; 1f my master should send me word this429 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
moment that he restores me to all he banished me from, I pro-
test, 1f I know myself at all, I would not leave this wilderness,
these deserts, and these frozen lakes, for the palace at Moscow.”
—‘ But, my lord,” said I, ‘‘ perhaps you not only are banished
from the pleasures of the court, and from the power, authority,
and wealth you enjoyed before, but you may be absent too from
some of the conveniences of life; your estate, perhaps, confis-
cated, and your effects plundered ; and the supplies left you
here may not be suitable to the ordinary demands of life.’’—
‘“ Ay,” says he, “‘that is as you suppose me to be a lord, or a
prince, &c.; so, indeed, Iam; but you are now to consider
me only as a man, a-human creature, not at all distinguished
from another; and so I can suffer no want, unless I should. be
visited with sickness and distempers. However, to put the
question out of dispute, you see our manner; we are, in this
place, five persons of rank ; we live perfectly retired, as suited
to a state of banishment; we have something rescued from the
shipwreck of our fortunes, which keeps us from the mere
necessity of hunting for food; but the poor soldiers, who are
here without that help, live in as much plenty as we, who go
into the woods and catch sables and foxes; the labor of a
month will maintain them a year; and as the way of living is
not expensive, so it is not hard to get sufficient to ourselves.
So that objection is out of doors.”

I have not room to give a full account of the most agreeable
conversation I had with this truly great man; in all which he
showed that his mind was so inspired with a superior knowl-
edge of things, so supported by religion, as well as by a vast
share of wisdom, that his contempt af the world was really as
much as he had expressed, and that he was always the same
to the last, as will appear in the story [ am going to tell.

I had been here eight months, and a dark, dreadful winter
I thought it ; the cold so intense that I could not so much as
look abroad without being wrapped in furs, and a mask of fur
before my face, or rather a hood, with only a hole for breath,
and two for sight: the little daylight we had was, as we reck-
oned, for three months, not above five hours a day, and six at
most ; only that the snow lying on the ground continually, and
the weather clear, it was never quite dark. Our horses were
kept, or rather starved, under ground; and as for our servants,
whom we hired here to. look after ourselves and horses, we
had, every now and then, their fingers and toes to thaw and
take care of, lest they should mortify and fall off

It is true, within doors we were warm; the houses being
close, the walls thick, the lights small, and the glass all double.
Our food was chiefly the flesh of deer, dried and cured in the
season ; bread good enough, but baked as biscuits; dried fish
of several sorts, and some flesh of mutton and of the buffaloes,
which is pretty good meat. All the stores of provisions forROBINSON CRUSOE. 435

the winter are laid up in the summer, and well cured; our
drink was water, mixed with aqua-vite instead of brandy ;
and for a treat, mead instead of wine, which, however, they
have excellent good. The hunters, who venture abroad all
weathers, frequently brought us in fine venison, and sometimes
bears’ flesh, but we did not much care for the last. We had
a good stock of tea, with which we treated our friends, as
above, and we lived very cheerfully and well, all things
considered.
- It was now March, the days grown considerably longer,
‘and the weather at least tolerable; so the other travellers
began to prepare sledges to carry them over the snow, and to
ret things ready to be going; but my measures being fixed, as
have said, for Archangel, and not for Muscovy ox the Baltic,
I made no motion; knowing very well that the ships from the
south do not set out for that part of the world till May or June,
and that if I was there by the beginning of August, it would
be as soon as any ships would be ready to go away ; and there-
fore 1 made no haste to be gone, as others did: in a_word, lL
saw a great many people, nay, all the travellers, go away be-
fore me. It seems, every year they go from thence to Mus-
covy for trade, viz. to carry furs, and buy necessaries, which
they bring back with them to furnish their shops; also others
went on the same errand to Archangel; but then they all
being to come back again above eight hundred miles, went
all out before me.

In the month of May I began to make all ready to pack up;
and, as I was doing this, it occurred to me that, seeing all these
people were banished by the czar of Muscovy to Siberia, and
yet, when they came there, were left at liberty to go whither
they would, why they did not then go away to any part of the
world, wherever they thought fit; and I began to examine what
should hinder them from making such an attempt. But my
wonder was over when I entered upon that subject with the
person I have mentioned, who answered me thus: * Consider,
first, sir,” said he, “‘ the place where we are ; and, secondly,
the condition we are in; especially the generality of the
peuple who are banished hither. We are surrounded with
stronger things than bars or bolts ; on the north side an unm
navigable ocean, where ship never sailed, and boat never
swam; every other way, we have above a thousand miles to
pass through the ezar’s own dominions, and by ways utterly
impassable, except by the roads made by the government, and
through the towns garrisoned by his troops; so that we could
neither pass undiscovered by the road, ner subsist any other

way; so that itis in vain to attempt it.”
I was silenced, indeed, at once, and found that they were
in a prison every jot as secure as if they had been locked up

in the castle at Moscow; however, it came into my thoughts424 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

that I might certainly be made an instrument to procure the
escape of this excellent person; and that, whatever hazard
Iran, 1 would certainly try if | could carry him off. Upon
this I took an‘occasion, one evening, to tell him my thoughts.
I represented to him that it was very easy for me to carry him
away, there being no guard over him in the country; and as
I was not going to Moscow, but to Archangel, and that I went
in the retinue of a caravan, by which I was not obliged to lie
in the stationary towns in the desert, but could encamp every
night where I would, we might easily pass uninterrupted to
Archangel, where I would immediately secure him on board
an English ship, and carry him safe along with me; and as to
his subsistence, and other particulars, it should be my care,
till he could better supply himself.

He heard me very attentively, and looked earnestly on me
all the while | spoke; nay, 1 could see in his very face that
what I said put his spirits into an exceeding ferment; his
color frequently changed, his eyes looked red, and his heart
fluttered, that it might be even perceived in his countenance ;
nor could he immediately answer me when I had done, and
as it were hesitated what he would say to it; but after he had
paused a little, he embraced me, and said, ‘‘ How unhappy
are we, unguarded creatures as we are, that even our greatest
acts of friendship are made snares unto us, and we are made
tempters of one another! My dear friend,” said he, “‘ your
oifer is so sincere, has such kindness in it, is so disinterested
in itself,-and is so calculated for my advantage, that I must
have very little knowledge of the world if I did not both won
der at it, and acknowledge the obligation I have upon me to
you for it. But did you believe I was sincere in what I have
often said to you of my contempt of the world? Did you be-
lieve I spoke my very soul to you, and that 1 had really ob-
tained that degree of felicity here that had placed me above
all that the world could give me? Did you believe I was sin-
cere when I told you I would not go back, if I was recalled
even to be all that I once was in the court, with the favor of
the czar my master? Did you believe me, my friend, to be
an honest man ; or did you believe me to be a boasting hy po-
crite?” Here he stopped, asif he would hear what I would
say ; but, indeed, I soon after perceived that he stopped be-
cause his spirits were in motion, his great heart was full of
struggles, and he could not goon. I was, I confess, astonish-
ed at the thing as well as at the man, and I used some argu-
ments with him to urge him to set himself free; that he ought
to look upon this as a door opened by Heaven for his deliver-
ance, and a summons by Providence, who has the care and
disposition of all events, to do himself good, and to render
himself useful in the world. i

He had by this time recovered himself. “ How do you
know, sir,” says he warmly, ‘but that, instead of a summonsROBINSON CRUSOE. 495
from Heaven, it may be a feint of another instrument; repre-
senting in alluring colors to me the show of felicity as a deliv-
erance, which may in itself be my snare, and tend directly to
my ruin? Here I am free from the temptation of returning to
my former miserable greatness; there 1 am not sure but that
all the seeds of pride, ambition, avarice, and luxury, which I
know remain in nature, may revive and take root, and, in a
word, again overwhelm me; and then the happy prisoner,
whom you see now master of his soul’s liberty, shall be the mis-
erable slave of his own senses, in the full of all personal liberty.
Dear sir, let me remain in this blessed confinement, banished
fom the crimes of life, rather than purchase a show of freedom
at the expense of the liberty of my reason, and at the future
happiness which I now have in my view, but shall then, I fear,
quickly*tose sight of; for I am but flesh; a man, a mere man,
have passions and affections as likely to possess and over-
throw me as any man: O be not my friend and tempter both
together ! ”’ :

{f I was surprised before, I was quite dumb now, and_ stood
silent, looking at him, and, indeed, admiring what I saw.
The struggle in his soul was so great, that though the weather
was extremely cold, it put him into a most violent sweat, and
I found he wanted to give vent to his mind; so I said a word
or two, that | would leave him to consider of it, and wait on him
again, and then I withdrew to my own apartment.

About two hours after, I heard somebody at or near the door
of my room, and I was going to open the door, but he had
opened it, and come in. © My dear friend,” says he, ** you
had almost overset me, but I am recovered. Do not take it ill
that { do not close with your offer; [ assure you it is not for
want of sense of the kindness of it in you ; and I came to make
the most sincere acknowledgment of it to you; but I hope 1
have got the victory over myself.”’—‘* My lord,” said I, ‘I hope
you are fully satisfied that you do not resist the call of Heaven.”
“<< Sir,” said he, ‘if it had been from Heaven, the same pow-
er would have influenced me to have accepted it; but I hope,
and am fully satisfied, that it is from Heaven that I decline it;
and I have infinite satisfaction in the parting, that you shall
leave me an honest man still, though not a free*inan.”

I had nothing to do but to acquiesce, and make professions
to him’ of my having no end in it but a sincere desire to serve
him. He embraced me very assionately, and assured me he
was sensible of that, and shou d always acknowledge it; and
with that he offered me a very fine present of sables, too much,
indeed, for me to accept from a man in his circumstances,
and I would have avoided theny, but he would not be refused.

The next morning I sent my servant to his lordship with a
small present of tea, and two pieces of China damask, and four
ttle wedges of Japan gold, which did not all weigh above six426 ROBINSON CRUSOE.
ounces or thereabouts, but were far short of the value of his
sables, which, when i came to England, I found worth near
two hundred pounds. He accepted the tea, and one piece of
the damask, and one of the pieces of gold, which had» a fine
stamp upon it, of the Japan coinage, which I found he took for
the rarity of it, but would not take any more; and he sent word
by my servant that he desired to speak with me.

When I came to him, he told me I knew what had passed
between us, and hoped I would not move him any more in
that affair ; but that, since I had made such a generous offer to
him, he asked me if I had kindness enough to offer the same to
another person that he would name to me, in whom he had a
great share of concern. [ told him that I could not say I in-
clined to do-so much for any but himself, for whom I had a par-
ticular value, and should have been glad to have been the instru-
ment of his deliverance; however, if he would please to name
the person to me, I would give him my answer. He told me it
was his only son, who, though I had not seen*him, yet he was
in the same condition with himself, and above two hundred
miles from him, on the other side the Oby ; but that, if I con-
sented, he would send for him.

I made no hesitation, but told him I would do it. I made
some ceremony in letting him understand that it was wholly on
his account; and that seeing I could not prevail on him, I
would show my respect to him by my concern for his son; but
these things are too tedious to repeat here. He sent away the
next day for his son; and in about twenty days he came back
with the messenger, bringing six or seven horses loaded with
very rich furs, and which, in the whole, amounted.to a very
great value. His servants brought the horses into the town,
but left the young lord ata distance till night, when he came
incognito into our apartment, and his father presented him to
me; and, in short, we concerted the manner of our travelling,
and.every thing proper for the journey.

I had bought a considerable quantity of sables, black fox-
skins, fine ermines, and such other furs as are very rich, in
that city, in exchange for some of the goods I had brought
from China; in particular for the cloves and nutmegs, of
which I sold the greatest part here, and the rest afterwards at
Archangel, for a much better price than I could have got at
London; and my partner, who was sensible of the profit, and
whose business, more particularly than mine, was merchan-
dise, was mightily pleased with our stay, on account of the
traffic we made here.

It was the beginning of June when I left this remote place,
a city, I believe, little heard of in the world; and, indeed, it is
so far out of the road of commerce, that I know not how it
should be much talked of. We were now reduced to a very
small caravan, having only thirty-two horses and camels inRCBINSON CRUSOE. 427

all; and all of them passed for mine, though my new guest
was proprietor of eleven of them: it was most natural also
that I should take more servants with me than I had before ;
and the young lord passed for my steward: what great man I
passed for myself, 1 know not, neither did it concern me to
inquire. We had here the worst and the largest desert to
pass over that we met with in our whole journey ; i call it the
worst, because the way was very deep in some places, and
very uneven in others; the best we had to say for it was, that
we thought we had no troops of ‘Tartars or robbers to
fear, and that they never came on this side the river Oby,
or at least but very seldom; but we found it otherwise.

My young lord had a faithful Siberian servant, who was
perfectly acquainted with the country, and led us by private
roads, so that we avoided coming into the principal towns and
cities upon the great road, such as Tumen, Soloy Kamskoi,
and several others; because the Muscovite garrisons which
are kept there are very curious and strict in their observation
upon travellers, and searching lest any of the banished persons
ot note should make their escape that way into Muscovy ;
but by this means, as we were kept out of the cities, so our
whole journey was a desert, and we were obliged to encamp
and lie in our tents, when we might have had very good ac
commodation in the cities on the way: this the young lord
was so sensible of, that he would not allow us to lie abroad
when we came to several cities on the way, but lay abroad
himself, with his servant, the woods, and met us always at
the appointed places. ;

We were just entered Europe, having passed the river
Kama, which in these parts is the boundary between Europe
and Asia, and the first city on the European side was called
Soloy Kamskoi, which is as much as to say, the great city
on the river Kama; and here we thought to see some evident
alteration in the° people; but we were mistaken; for as we
had a vast desert to pass, which is near seven hundred miles
long in some places, but not above two hundred miles over
where we passed it, so,tiil we came past that horrible place,
we found very little difference between that country and the
Mogul Tartary : the people are mostly pagans, and little bet-
ter than the savages of America ; their houses and towns full
of idols, and their way of living wholly barbarous, except 1n
the cities, as above, and the villages near them, where they
are Christians, as they call themselves, of the Greek church ;
but have their religion mingled with so many relics of super-
stition, that it is scarce to be known in some places from mere
sorcery and witchcraft.

In passing this forest, I thought, indeed, we must (after all
our dangers were, to our Imagination, escaped, as before) have
been plundered and robbed, and perhaps murdered, by a troop
of thieves: of what country they were I am yet at a loss to428 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

know; but they were all on horseback, carried bows and arrows,
and were at first about forty-five in number: they came so near
to us as to be within two musket-shots, and asking no ques-
tions, surrounded us with their horses, and looked very earnest-
ly upon us twice: at length they placed themselves just in our
Way ; upon which we drew up in a little line, before our cam-
els, being not above sixteen men in all; and being drawn ip
thus, we halted, and sent out the Siberian servant, who attend-
ed his lord, to see who they were: his master was the more
willing to let him go, because he was not a little apprehensive
that they were a Siberian troop sent out after him. The mar
caine up near them with a flag of truce, and called to them;
but though he spoke several of their languages, or dialects of
languages rather, he could not understand a word they said ;
however, after some signs to him not to come nearer to them,
at his peril, the fellow came back no wiser than he went: only
that by their dress, he said, he believed them to be some Tar-
tars of Kalmuck, or of the Circassian hordes, and that there
must be more of them upon the great desert, though he never heard
that any of them were seen so far north before.

About an hour after, they again made a motion to attack us,
and rode round our little wood to see where they might break in;
but finding us always ready to face them, they went off again ;
and we resolved not to stir for that night.

This was small comfort, to us; however, we had no remedy :
there was on our left hand, at about a quarter of a mile dis-
tance, a little grove, and very near the road; I immediately
resolved we should advance to those trees, and fortify ourselves
as well as we could there; for, first, I considered that the trees
would in a great measure cover us from their arrows: and, in
the next place, they could not come to charge us in a body; it
was, indeed, my old Portuguese pilot who proposed it, and who
had this excellency attending him, that he was always readiest
and most apt to direct and encourage us in cases of the most
danger. We advanced immediately, with what speed we could,
and gained that little wood; the Tartars, or thieves, —for we knew
not what to call them,—keeping their stand, and not attempting
to hinder us. When we came thither, we found, to our great
satisfaction, that it was a swampy piece of ground, and on the
one side a very great spring of water, which, running out ina
little brook, was, a little farther, joined by another of the like
size, and was, in short, the source of a considerable river, call-
ed afterwards the Wirtska: the trees which grew about this
spring were not above two hundred, but very large, and stood
pretty thick, so that as soon as we got In we saw ourselves
perfectly safe from the enemy, unless they attacked us on foot.

While we staid here waiting the motion of the enemy
some hours, without perceiving they made any movemen,
our Portuguese, with some help, cut several arms of treesROBINSON CRUSOE

aif off, and laid them hanging across from one tree to another,
and in a manner fenced us in. «About two hours before night,
they came down directly upon us, and, though we had not per-
ceived it, we found they had been joined by some more of the
same, so that they were near fourscore horse ;- whereof, how-
ever, we fancied some were women. They came on till they
were within half shot of our little wood, when we fired one
musket without ball, and called to them in the Russian tongue
to know what they wanted, and bade them keep off; but they
came on with a double fury up to the wood side, not imagining
we were so barricaded that they could not easiky break in.
Our old pilot was our captain, as well as our engineer, and
desired us not to fire upon them till they came within pistol-
shot, that we might be sure to kill; and that when we did
fire, we should be sure to take good aim: we bade him give the
word of command, which he delayed so long, that they were
some of them within two pikes’ length of us when we let fly.
We aimed so true that we killed fourteen of them, and wound-
ed several others, as also several of their horses; for we had
all of us loaded our pieces with two or three bullets at least.
They were terribly surprised with our fire, and retreated
immediately about one hundred rods from us, in which time
we loaded our pieces again, and seeing them keep that: dis-
tance, we sallied out, and catched four or five of their horses,
whose riders we supposed were killed ; and coming up to the430 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

dead, we judged they were Tartars, but knew not how they
came to make an excursion such an unusual length.

We slept little, you may be sure, but spent the most part
of the night in strengthening our situation, and barricading
the entrances into the wood, and keeping a strict watch.
We waited for day-light, and when it came, it gave us a very
unwelcome discovery, indeed ; for the enemy, who, we th yught,
were discouraged with the reception they met with, were now
greatly increased, and had set up eleven or twelve huts or
tents, as if they were resolved to besiege us; and this little
camp they had pitched upon the open plain, about three quar-
ters of a mile from us e were, indeed, surprised at this
discovery; and now, [ confess, I gave myself over for lost,
and all that I had; the loss of my effects did not lie so near
me, though very considerable, as, the thoughts of falling into
the hands of such barbarians, at the latter end of my journey,
after so many difficulties and hazards as I had gone through,
and even in sight of our port, where we expected safety and
deliverance. As to my partner, he was raging, and declared
that to lose his goods would be his ruin, and that he would
rather die than be starvéd; and he was for fighting to the
last drop

The young lord, a gallant youth, was for fighting to the last,

also; and my old pilot was of the opinion we were able to re.
sist them all in the situation we were then in; and thus we spent
the day in debates of what we should do: but towards evening
we found that the number of our enemies still increased, and
we did not know but by the morning they might still be a
greater number ; so I began to inquire of those people we had
brought from Tobolski, if there were no private ways by which
we might avoid them in the night, and perhaps retreat to some
town, or get help to guard us over the desert. The Siberian,
who was servant to the young lord, told us if we designed to
avoid them, and not fight, he would engage to carry us off in
the night, to a way that went north, towards the river Petrou,
by which he made no question but we might get away, and the
Tartars never the wiser ; but, he said, his lord had told him he
would not retreat, but would rather choose to fight. I told him
he mistook his lord; for that he was too wise a man to love
fighting for the sake of it; that I knew his lord was brave
enough, by what he had showed already; but that his lord
knew better than to desire seventeen or eighteen men to fight
five hundred, unless an unavoidable necessity forced them to it;
and that, if he thought it possible for us to escape in the night,
we had nothing elsesto do but to attempt it. He answered, if
his lordship gave him such orders, he would lose his life if he
did not perform it: we soon brought his lord to give that order,
though privately, and we immediately prepared for the putting
it In practice. 'ROBINSON CRUSOE. 431

And, first, as soon as it began to be dark, we kindled a fire in
our little camp, which we kept burning, and prepared so as to
make it burn all night, that the Tartars might conclude we were
still there ; but as soon as it was dark, and we could see tne
stars (for our guide would not stir before), having all our horses
and camels ready loaded, we followed our new guide, who |
soon found steered himself by the north star.

After we had travelled two hours very hard, it began to be
lighter still; not that it was quite dark all night, but the moon
began to rise, so that, in short, it was rather lighter than we
wished it to be; but by six o’clock the next morning, we were
got above thirty miles, having almost spoiled our horses. Here
we found a Russian village, named Kermazinskoy, where we
‘rested, and heard nothing of the Kalmuck ‘Tartars that day.
About two hours before night we set out again, and travelled
till eght the next morning, though not quite so hard as before ;
and about seven o’clock we passed a little river, called Kirtza,
and came toa good large town inhabited by Russians, called
Ozomoys; there we heard that several troops of Kalmucks had
been abroad upon the desert, but that we were now completely
out of danger of them, which was to our great satisfaction.
Here we were obliged to get some fresh horses; and having
need enough of rest, we staid five days ; and my partner and
agreed to give the honest Siberian who brought us thither the
value of ten pistoles.

In five days more we came to Veuslima, upon the river Wirt-
zogda, and running into the Dwina: we were there, very hap-
pily, near the end of our travels by land, that river being navi-
gable, in seven days’ passage, to Archangel. From hence we
came to Lawrenskoy the 3d of July; and providing ourselves
with two luggage-boats, and a barge for our own convenience,
we embarked the 7th, and arrived all safe at Archangel the
18th; having been a year, five months, and three days on the
journey, including our stay of eight months at Tobolsk1. We
were obliged to stay at this place six weeks for the arrival of
the ships, and must have tarried longer had not a Hamburgher
come in above a month sooner than any of the English ships;
when, after some consideration that the city of Hamburgh might
happen to be as good a market for our goods as London, we all
took freight with him; and, having put our goods on board, it
was most natural for me to put my steward on board to take
care of them; by which means my young lord had a sufficient
opportunity to conceal himself, never coming on shore again
all the time we staid there; and this he did that he might not
be seen in the city; where some of the Moscow merchants would
certainly have seen and discovered him.

We then set sail from Archangel the 20th of August, the
same year; and after no extraordinary bad voyage, arrived safe

in the Elbe the 18th of September. Here my partner and I439 ROBINSON CRUSOE
found a very good sale for our goods, as well those of China as
the sables, dc. of Siberia; and dividing the produce, my share
amounted to £3475 17s. 3d. including about six hundred
pounds worth of diamonds which I purchased at Bengal.

Here the young lord took his leave of us, and went up the
Elbe in order to go to the court of Vienna, where he resolved
to seek protection, and could correspond with those of his
father’s friends who were left alive. He did not part without
testimonies of gratitude for the service I had done him, and
his sense of my kindness to the prince his father.

To conclude, having staid near four months in Hamburgh,
I came from thence by land to the Hague, where I embarked
in the packet, and arrived in London the 10th of January, 1705;
having been absent from England ten years and nine months.
And here I resolved to prepare for a longer journey than all
these, having lived a life of infinite variety seventy-two years,
and learned sufficiently to know the value of retirement, and
the blessing of ending our days in peace.

THE END.“ose of China asRX OOL 949 4a