I was so fond of lingering by this pool to read, and smoke, and watch the fish, that I built myself a rock summer-house, and roofed it in with wood, upon which I placed a layer of mortar, and then thatched it with pine branches and braken. It was a picturesque little house, in a picturesque spot, and if I tell the truth, I believe I made a picturesque Crusoe.

My dress consisted, in summer, of white duck trousers, canvas shoes, coloured flannel shirt, a blue jean jacket, and broad-brimmed hat. Round my waist I always wore a long red sash; it was four yards long, consequently, would encircle my waist three times and still leave some of the two ends to hang down at my side. This sash I found very useful, for I used it as a wallet or hold-all. Nothing came amiss to it—tobacco, pipes, cartridges, biscuits, fruit, fishing tackle, all were tucked away in it at different or the same time, as they were so easy to get at, and left the hands free.

Now let us leave fish and fishing, and see in what other ways I enjoyed my solitary life.



CHAPTER VI.

"FLAP" THE GULL—SURGICAL OPERATION—THE GULL WHO REFUSED TO DIE—TAXIDERMY EXTRAORDINARY—FEATHERED FRIENDS—SNAKES.

Every part of the island swarmed with rabbits, in fact, it was a perfect warren, and must have contained thousands of them. I had therefore to devise some means of keeping them down, or they would so have multiplied as to eat up everything that to a rodent was toothsome, and that is nearly everything green, even to the furze bushes. I had only four tooth-traps with me, and these were not nearly adequate for the number I wanted to kill, so I had recourse to wire gins. These I soon became an adept in setting, and discovered that by placing the thin wire noose close to the ground I could catch the wee rabbits, while by keeping the lower part of the noose about four inches above the turf I could secure the large ones. By practice and observation I soon learned not only the best "runs," but could tell just where they would place their feet, as they bounded up or down the steep acclivities.

At times I had seventy or eighty gins set, and caught perhaps a hundred a week in the season, which I regret to say were nearly all thrown into the sea. This destruction of good food I was very sorry to cause, as it would have fed a dozen poor families; but it was a case of kill the rabbits, or starve my own animals. I chose the latter alternative, and thus had plump animals and plump rabbits too. Those I retained formed food for myself, dog, pigs, and a gull I kept.

The gull I must say a little about, as he became a constant companion to me when I was within the wall which surrounded the homestead. "Flap," for so I christened him, was a large grey and white gull which I secured soon after coming to the island, by breaking his wing at a long shot. He tried, poor fellow, to scramble down to the sea, and swim away, but "Begum" was too quick for him, and pounced upon him before he could get over the rocks. I examined the bird and found the wing bone to be broken, but otherwise the bird was not at all hurt. It then came into my mind to perform a surgical operation, and this I quickly carried out. I trimmed away all the feathers from about the wound, and then with one draw of my sharp knife cut through the flesh between the smashed bone, and quickly amputated the wing.

"Flap" was so fierce, and had such a formidable bill, that I had to fasten him to a post to do all this, or he might have given me a deep wound. I then bathed the stump of the wing with warm water, and bound it up in a lump of lard, and the operation was complete.

I placed him in the stable and fed him with bits of fish, rabbit, and vegetable for about a week, by which time he was fairly tame; so then I took him out and fastened a leather strap round his leg, and tethered him on the grass plot in front of my house, as one would a cow, feeding him several times daily on animal food or fish. After a week of this he was so tame that he would try to get away from his peg to meet me in the morning. Seeing this, I decided to release him from his stake. I did so, and the poor bird followed me about like a dog; in fact, I believe "Begum" was jealous of him, for when I petted the gull he would come and thrust his great black nose into my hand, and look up to my eyes, as much as to say,

"Don't forget me, master!"

At the end of about three weeks I ventured to take the bandage off "Flap's" wing-stump, when I found, to my surprise, that it was so nearly healed as not to require further treatment from me, Harry Nilford, M.D.

"Flap's" domain was the homestead, about which he would hop and flap with his one wing in a most comical manner. If I threw down half a rabbit and called him, he would dash across the lawn at a gait that would defy description, while his voracity was wonderful to behold. He would take down half a rabbit in two or three fierce gulps, skin, bones, and flesh; and I have known him, when very hungry, to eat a whole one at a meal, which would only take a couple of minutes for him to discuss. It was simply a matter of Hey Presto! and his meal was consumed. If a man could eat in the same proportion, half a sheep would make a meal, while a goose or turkey would only be a snack. Thank goodness, our appetites are less keen, or a fat bullock would only serve a large family for dinner, with the odds and ends left for supper.

"Begum" and "Flap" were fast friends, and the dog would allow the bird to take many liberties with him, such as taking quietly some pretty sharp pecks if he attempted to eat a bit of "Flap's" food; but on the other hand, "Flap" would take "Begum's" food from under his very nose without a protest of any kind from the dog, except a look out of the corner of his eye, as if he thought "What impudence!"

I found sea fowl of all kinds to be very tenacious of life, especially the common large gull. One case of this occurs to me as I write. I fired at a gull and brought it down on the rocks; but it was only winged, and picking it up, I wrung its neck, and flung it down, thinking it was dead, but in a couple of minutes it gave such signs of returning animation that I put the butt of my gun on its neck, which was upon the hard pathway, and pressed with all my might. But the thing would not die, so I got cross with both it and myself, with the bird for not dying and myself for causing it so much unnecessary pain. Thinking to kill the bird instantaneously, I took out my penknife, and ran it (or supposed I was in the right spot) quite through the brain, so that the blade projected half an inch on the other side. Just then some more gulls came within shot, and I threw the bird on the ground, and made an onslaught on the others. I dropped one, and scrambled down the cliffs for it, and at length having secured it, climbed laboriously up the steep rocks again. Judge of my surprise when, purring and blowing from my exertions, just as my head rose above the ledge of the pathway where I had left the transfixed bird, I saw it rise to its feet, give a loud Quah! and before I could prevent it, away it went, half flying and flopping, half running and scrambling, with my knife still in its skull, and was quickly out of sight.

The different kinds of gulls visiting Jethou are very numerous, and some of them very pretty. One of the finest being the swift sea swallow, with its lovely grey feathers, forked tail, and long graceful wings. Another is the sea-pie, a very shapely black and white gull, which makes a noise quite peculiar to itself when hunting among the rocky inlets for its food, thus betraying its presence.

Whenever I killed a bird of which I did not know the name, I would fasten it up to some sticks in as life-like manner as possible, and make a water colour drawing of it, taking great care to shew every detail, so that in time I had over thirty drawings, each of which took me half a day to execute. These are now in the writer's possession, and form a pretty memento of his Crusoe days.

I took to making these drawings, because my attempts at taxidermy were grotesquely ludicrous; to put it plainly, they were unmitigated failures. These remarks apply to my very early attempts, for I would not have the readers think me incapable after long practice of turning out a shapely bird or a fish fair to behold. I must own that my early struggles at skinning and stuffing were certainly funny, as except from the colour of the feathers one could not tell a tern from a Kentish crow after I had mangled it about for a few hours. They were wonders of natural history these specimens of mine, not altogether from my unskilfulness in handling them, but from the fact that I lacked materials to work with. During the long nights of autumn, I, to a certain extent, perfected myself in setting up specimens, but found they would not keep, as I had no arsenic to work with, using in its place a disinfectant which was not a preservative, consequently my specimens began to get mouldy and to smell high, and this prevailing mustiness brought them to an untimely end, or at least the greater portion of them. Thinking a day in the sunshine and fresh air might improve them, I took them all out of the house, and carried them a few at a time down to the small lawn, as it was nice and open, placing them promiscuously down on the green sward; and a funny lot they looked. Fish of all kinds, condition, and colors, and birds in all positions, natural and unnatural; the Chamber of Horrors at Madame Tussaud's Waxworks was a pleasant sight in comparison to my collection, at least that was the impression I gleaned from "Begum" and "Flap," both of whom seemed perfectly mad at seeing such an array of scarecrows on their favourite playground.

It was a lovely mild day, and I spent best part of it at La Fauconnaire, rabbit and gull shooting, bringing home for my day's sport as many as I could fairly carry. Leaving them in the storehouse I fed "Eddy," and proceeded to perform the same office for the goat and pigs, but they were nowhere to be seen. After a fair amount of searching I gave them up for the time, and proceeded to take in my stuffed wonders, but alas, the pigs and goat had been before me, for in the morning I had not properly latched the lawn gate, and they had got in and created awful havoc. Many of my specimens the pigs had actually eaten, others they had disjointed and mangled in such a manner as to be perfectly useless, while what they had not fallen foul of my Quixotic goat had, by spiking them with her single horn, till she had had the satisfaction of knocking the stuffing out of them. What was left of my most magnificent collection now looked as if a charge of dynamite had played havoc with it. Thus my friends and the world in general were prevented from gazing upon one of the most curious collections of birds, beasts, and fishes that have ever been stuffed (with whatever was handiest) since the art of taxidermy was introduced.

The stormy petrel during rough weather used to be a frequent visitor to the Perchee Channel, skimming just above the dark waves so close to the surface, as to appear to walk up a wave, rise above its crest, and then walk down into the valley of water on the opposite side. I shot several specimens, two of which I stuffed, but they were both eaten by those horrid pigs.

Oyster-pickers were quite plentiful, and I quickly discovered that they might also aptly be termed limpet-pickers, for they seemed to take these shell fish as their staple food. The modus operandi of feeding is to pounce down upon a rock which the receding tide has left bare, and with a single sharp blow with its beak, detach a limpet, and turning it mouth upward, pick out the fish at its leisure. If it failed to detach the limpet at once it would go on to another, knowing that when once disturbed the limpet requires great force to detach it. Oysters lie in deep waters where they are inaccessible to these birds, so whence is their name derived?

Then there were various kinds of divers, the principal of which class was the cormorant, greatly resembling a half-starved black swan, that is, it had a longer and thinner and less graceful body; but in many points it was superior to the swan, especially in its flying and diving powers, and in its quickness of action. Its head appears never to be still, but constantly bobbing and turning from side to side, as if saying, "Did you ever catch a cormorant asleep?" Knowing that the Chinese train these birds to catch fish, I endeavoured to induce one to come to me, and serve his apprenticeship as a fisherman, but to no purpose. It was just as well I could not catch one, for I find they must be trained from their young days to the art, as they are intractable in their grown-up wildness, and I was thus spared a great deal of unnecessary trouble and irritability of temper.

Although I had a store of simple medicines with me, I scarcely ever required to open the case. Once and once only, I felt poorly for a whole week, but that I fancy was attributable to fruit and the heat. Although not well, I thoroughly enjoyed a whole lazy week, most of which I spent by the side of my fish pool, studying the habits of my finny comrades in captivity. Some of the rock fish became so tame that they would rise to the surface when I dropped crumbs of biscuits on the water, and I verily believe if I had had the patience, I might have taught them to feed from my fingers. Sometimes for a treat I would bring "Flap" and place him near the water, and he seemed to enjoy looking at the denizens; but they were all too big for him to gobble, or he would have made an Aldermanic dinner of some of them.

I occasionally saw a snake, but always of the harmless, blindworm variety. Of this species I caught two and admired them, but I did not make pets of them as I did of nearly everything else I could lay hands on.

One big fellow nearly two feet long I threw into the sea, thinking to rid the island of at least one snake; but to my surprise he swam ashore on the surface of the water as quickly as he could have progressed on dry land. He was a veritable sea-serpent, although a small specimen.

There were also two kinds of lizards of which I do not know the name, but they were only small fellows, and may be what are called "efts." They would sun themselves on the warm rocks, and on being disturbed dart into some cranny till danger was past. They ran up and down rocks which were nearly perpendicular, and were very amusing in their rapid movements.

I often thought as I lay in my hammock how I should have liked a squirrel or two to be climbing about the branches above me; but one is never contented with what is allotted them. Probably had I possessed a squirrel or two, I should have longed for a few monkeys, and having them, should have wished for something else.

Altogether I was perfectly contented with my lot, especially after the melancholy of the first week had worn off, except just now and again a particularly dismal feeling would assert itself, which I could not shake off; but I simply attributed this to dull weather or over exertion. It was nothing worth mentioning.

My spirits are like a barometer; when the sun shines and the weather is warm I am up; when it is wet and dull I am down, and I think this is the case with many persons; in fact, I believe weather has a greater influence on our lives than we are aware of. Statistics go to prove this; for instance, more marriages take place during the five months, June to September, than in the other seven colder months. From gaiety to despair,—more suicides take place at the fall of the year than at any other period. Rodent slaughter commenced this chapter and suicide ends it; this puts me in mind of the Marriage Service, which commences "Dearly" and ends with "amazement."



CHAPTER VII.

I BUILD A CURIOUS "BOX" BOAT—AN UNPLEASANT NIGHT AT SEA—MY SUNDAY SERVICE—THE POEM, "ALEXANDER SELKIRK"—ITS APPLICABILITY TO MY LOT.

During the summer my roving propensities began to assert themselves, and I longed to go farther afield over the sea. I bethought me how I might contrive myself a boat in which to venture into the offing with, as my canoe was too frail to go far from shore.

I looked around to see what I could utilize, and found I had a few inch boards and plenty of rivets, nails, and screws; but after overhauling my stock I came to the conclusion that my materials would not warrant my commencing a craft of any size, so for several days I gave up the project, till one day visiting the boathouse I cast my eyes on the large tin-lined packing cases in which my goods had been packed. Why not utilize these? There were four of them. Three were of the same dimensions, namely, four feet long, three feet wide, and two and a half feet deep; while the fourth was three feet and a half long, two feet wide, and two and a half feet deep.

That night I went to bed early, so as to have a good "think" as to how I could make a boat of these boxes, with the help of my deal boards and tools.

I soon hit on a plan, and could scarcely get a wink of sleep for thinking and maturing my plans; in fact, at two a.m. I got up, dressed, and went and re-measured the cases and re-inspected them, to see if they were really eligible for my purpose. They were, and I retired to bed again perfectly overjoyed, so that I only dozed and woke continually till five a.m., when I finally arose and commenced operations in the boathouse.

"Begum" knew there was something in the wind, for I had little to say to him, so full was I of my scheme.

I found my cases with their tin linings were quite water-tight, which was a necessary condition for keeping my craft afloat, and having prepared my tools and got my timber ready for a start, went homeward to breakfast, shooting a very fine pigeon on the way, which had probably strayed over from Guernsey. Here was a dinner provided for me which only required cooking. Indeed, it frequently happened that at breakfast time my dinner would be flying about round the island.

To help me in the description of the building of my craft I here give sketches of her construction. First I took my cases 2, 3, and 4, and firmly screwed them together, and afterwards added number 5, which was not so wide by six inches, but still served admirably for a stern. Then came my first difficulty. How should I form the bows? This I got over by making another case, No. 1, of a triangular form with a bulkhead running across, to which I nailed my side timbers, so as to give them an outward curve. These streaks I put on clinker-wise—that is, overlapping, and thoroughly caulked them with oakum soaked in grease.



Next, to strengthen the hull and hold everything firmly in position, I nailed a top streak along from stem to stern, so as to form a gunwale, and another at the lower edges of the cases, tarring everything as I proceeded, including myself; but as the weather was hot a pair of old pants cut off at the knee, and a ragged shirt, were my only encumbrance in the way of clothing. Now I proceeded to cut down the partitions between the various sections for a depth of six inches. I then carefully caulked the tiny crack between each of these bulkheads, and turning the surplus tin over, nailed it to the wood. Over these bulkheads I placed thwarts six inches wide, and then proceeded to make a keel. This I did by bolting two thicknesses of board together and cutting them down, so that it measured three inches deep at the stem and six at the stern. The fastening on of this keel gave me more trouble than anything else connected with the boat, for I had no bolts long enough to go through six inches of timber, and then through the bottom of the boat. There was only one way, and that was to make some bolts eight inches long, and this I did from some pieces of three-eight iron rod I found. Nine bolts took me a whole day to make—from six in the morning till six in the evening. My anvil was a granite rock, which I had to carry on my shoulders from the beach; but it served its purpose capitally.

My labours at the anvil were considerably lightened by the singing of all the appropriate songs I could think of, especially the "Village Blacksmith," which I think I must have worn out while making my bolts and other fastenings.

I made heads to my bolts, and thrusting them through the keel, fastened them off on the inside with iron collars or burrs. To make the keel more secure I ran a strap of iron up the stern, from the heel of the keel, and screwed it in place.

For the mast I made a step by crossing two pieces of board, and where they crossed cut a hole through sufficiently large to take my mast, which was a short one, being only about ten feet long. These cross pieces not only held the mast, but also greatly strengthened the bows, which felt the first and full force of the waves.

Then the rudder had to be made and attached, thole pins provided, and the whole concern tarred inside and out, tin and all.

Oars had to be made, and with these I had some little difficulty; but by steadily pegging away I at length turned out three very serviceable, if not elegant, ones. The third was in case of a breakage, for it would never do to go to sea without a spare oar, as in case of accident I might have drifted helplessly goodness knows where.[1]

The Bay of Avranches is a large place, and as the Channel Islands do not lie in the direct course of ocean-going vessels, it would be extremely awkward, even on a calm day, to be alone in a boat with but one oar.

I found a large roll of old sails in the loft of the boathouse, all much too large for my boat; but I selected a jib, and cut it down to form a lug-sail. This sail being discoloured, I gave it a coat of yellow ochre and boiled oil on each side, which gave it a very curious appearance. The upper strake of my boat I also painted yellow, and to finish off christened my craft the "Yellow Boy."

The launch was a Herculean task, as I had built her too high above high water-mark, and it took me nearly a day to get her down and afloat. Finding I could not move her with my own bodily strength, I had to carry an anchor out and attach a block-tackle and thus, with the help of my faithful old comrade, "Eddy," haul the boat gradually down below high water-mark, where I left her for the tide to rise and float her. She seemed large while I was at work upon her, but the huge bulk of Crevichon towering up in the background dwarfed her to a cockle shell.

While the tide was rising I busied myself in selecting large flat pieces of granite for ballast, and fastening them down to the floor with battens, which operation was scarcely finished when the tide came into the little cove, and in half an hour the "Yellow Boy" was afloat. "Hurrah!" I shouted, while "Begum" barked with joy. I could not refrain from taking the good fellow with me for the trial trip, for I must have someone to talk to, as I felt in such a joyful mood.

It was late in the afternoon when we started off, and I had not broken my fast since dinner, so letting the boat drift on the now sluggish tide, I opened my tin provision box, and with capital appetites my dog and I fell to.

The water found its way in in two or three places, but these I quickly caulked, and soon had everything water-tight. Then the sail did not sit to my liking, so down it came, and having my palm and needles I soon altered it. Then I shifted the ballast somewhat, and got everything square and snug.

After about a couple of hours, as the tide was quite spent, I thought it was about time to turn towards home, but on looking back the islands had disappeared in the evening haze which was springing up, so turning the boat's head I guessed at the position of Jethou, and hauled up the sail. There was but a breath of wind, and before half an hour of our homeward voyage was accomplished it was (with the sea fog and the approach of night) quite dark. Still I kept on, not sure where I was going, as I could not see a light anywhere, till presently a steady rain set in, and then I knew we were in for a night of it. The weather was warmish, but I was so lightly clothed that I was quickly drenched to the skin. I looked eagerly for a ship's light, but not one could I see, or I would have borne down upon her and got the bearings of Jethou from her skipper. I did what best I could under the circumstances, resolving never again to be led away by any new fad, so as to be oblivious to everything else, as I had been in getting my new boat into trim. It was a dreadful time for me, as I knew Jethou to be surrounded by rocks on all sides, so that I had to keep a very sharp look out, for fear of running on them and getting stove in, which would probably have resulted in my death, if the rocks were submerged at high water.

About what I should judge to be the middle of the night, as I sat shaking with cold with my hand on the tiller, I suddenly became aware of the presence of huge rocks right in front of me. I lowered the sail instantly and got out the oars, pulling gently to the lee side of these rocks, and with some difficulty landed and made fast my boat between two lofty pillars of granite, which rose sheer from the sea. I was dreadfully cold and could find no shelter from the rain, which had completely saturated my paltry clothing. I therefore had a dip in the sea, which appeared to me warmer than the cold rain and night air, and less likely to have bad after effects upon my constitution. Oh, poor Robinson Crusoe! here was a pretty kettle of fish at the very first trip. How gladly would I have changed places with my donkey, who was safely under shelter, listening to the rain beating down, and saying to himself, "No work for me to-morrow!"

The longest night must have an end, although I began to fear this particular one would not do so, till I was past caring whether the sun ever rose again or not. But by-and-bye the dawn began to break, and quickly spread itself over the sky, and with the light the fog dispersed slowly, and showed me a barrel upon the top of a pole perched on the highest rock of the group I was a prisoner upon, by which I knew I was on the Ferriers, which lie about a short mile south-west of Jethou. I climbed to the pole and took a survey, and could just make out Jethou's back above the haze which still rolled silently above the still waters.

Down I scrambled to my boat, eager to push off and reach home, but alas, my craft was high and dry four feet above the sea, on a ledge which just held her comfortably cradled, in derision to my anxiety. "Begum" lay calmly sleeping in the stern sheets. How I envied him his power of passing the dull hours away, oblivious to wet or cold.

Half an hour—an hour—two hours passed, and then the kindly sea had compassion on my lonely, forlorn condition, and rose and toyed with my boat, and finally lifted her and bore her safely back to my home.

Home! what a word after such a night! I almost fell ashore, so great was my anxiety, and so desperately hungry did I feel.

My surroundings had now changed from what they were three hours since; for now I was on my island home, with the birds singing and the sun shining brightly and warmly upon me, so that I threw off my wet clothes and worked in a state of nature to get my tackle ashore, while "Begum" fetched "Eddy" to help me to get my craft above tide mark.

Good old "Eddy." I felt he was indeed a friend as he came trotting down the rocky path with a regular royal salute of braying. He tugged, and I tugged, till when the boat was safely beached I felt as nearly exhausted as ever I have been in my life. I scarcely had strength to get up the path which usually I took at a run. However, I did get up, and took a good nip of brandy, following it with some solid refreshment, eating as I lit the copper fire and filled the copper with water. While I waited for the water to become hot, I became so drowsy that I could scarcely keep awake, and yawned till an observer might have seen the roots of my hair, such an open countenance did I present. The water (although I watched it) boiled at last, and this I poured into a big tub partly filled with cold water, and had a bath for ten minutes as hot as I could bear it, after which I hopped into bed and slept, and slept, and slept.

It was eight a.m. when I went to bed, and I did not wake for fourteen hours—that is till ten p.m.; and knowing that I had slept the entire day away without a thought for my poor live stock, I turned over, resolving to be up and feed the said live stock at dawn. But when I again woke the sun was high above the horizon, and up I jumped, or tried to, but found that I was very stiff and sore all over from my night adventure. As I walked about and worked, feeding my animals, I gradually felt better, especially after a hearty breakfast, of which I stood much in need, after twenty-four hours' fast.

After this adventure I was very careful not to go out again without protection from the weather in the shape of a good thick coat and sou'wester, beside which I always put a tin of biscuits and a two-pound tin of preserved meat in the lockers near the stern, in case of emergency, and more than once I had to break bulk when a trip unexpectedly kept me out longer than I anticipated.

I now had all I could desire in the way of comforts and engagements, and not an idle day did I spend, except Sundays, upon which day I never did a stroke of work nor fired a shot. Even my rabbit gins were neglected that day. All I did was to feed my animals, walk or doze in my hammock and meditate, and this to me was a great enjoyment. When the wind was westerly I could hear the Guernsey church bells ringing for service, and when they ceased I knew it was eleven o'clock, and regulated my watch accordingly; that being done I always spent the time between that hour and twelve in going through the church service for the day, and the regulation three hymns, with one or two added, and a chapter or two from the Bible in place of a sermon. Then I felt comfortable, and contented, and without fear.

One Sunday afternoon, swinging in my hammock in the grove reading a book of poetry, I came across those beautiful verses by Cowper, entitled, "Alexander Selkirk," and could not but think how true they were to my own lot in many points; in fact, few persons reading the poem could appreciate it as I did in my solitude, with nought but the sea and sky with their teeming creatures around me. The first half of the first verse fitted me capitally, and I could not get it out of my head all day; it tickled my fancy:

"I am monarch of all I survey, To my right there is none to dispute; From the centre all round to the sea, I am lord of both fowl and of brute."

In the second verse occur the lines:

"I am out of humanity's reach, I must finish my journey alone; Never hear the sweet music of speech— I start at the sound of my own."

Certainly it was very seldom I heard a human voice, even in the distance, sometimes not for weeks together; but as to starting at the sound of my own, well, that is not at all correct. Probably if my friends could have heard the voice of either "Eddy" or myself, when in full song, they would have had a start, if not a severe shock to the system.

Again:

"Society, friendship, and love, Divinely bestowed upon men; Oh, had I the wings of a dove, How soon would I taste you again!"

Dove's wings would not have borne my thirteen stone weight. Perchance the giant wings of the Albatross would have been more practicable, if less poetical, and with these appendages I might have been tempted to have a peep at my friends in England, despite the supremely ridiculous figure I should have cut in the air, and the chance I should have stood of being shot as a very rara avis. Fancy me lighting down on our old thatched-roof house, and frightening everyone out of their seven senses, including my darling Priscilla, who, if she were not too frightened, would certainly bring me down with a charge of No. 4 (chilled) shot.

The next verse is nearly true of my state in its entirety:

"Religion! what treasure untold Resides in that heavenly word! More precious than silver and gold, Or all that this earth can afford;

But the sound of the church-going bell These valleys and rocks never heard; Never sighed at the sound of a knell, Or smiled when a Sabbath appeared."

It is scarcely true to say that the rocks never hear the sound of the church-going bell, for with a westerly breeze the bells can be heard quite plainly, and I have even heard a dog bark at that distance, which shows how distinctly, and to what a great distance sound will travel over water.

If rocks have ears they must occasionally have been ravished by my rendering of Sankey and Moody's hymns. If they have a memory they must have learnt several of them by heart; in fact, have been so familiar with them as to desire a change for something secular. They never applauded me, but when the Heavens spoke with thunder they clapped their granite hands till they cracked again.

The last verse hits me again—quite a bull's eye:

"But the sea fowl is gone to her nest, The beast is laid down in his lair; Even here is a season of rest, And I to my cabin repair. There's mercy in every place, And mercy, encouraging thought! Gives even affliction a grace, And reconciles man to his lot."

Yes, I nightly had to repair to my cabin, and in the wet season had my cabin to repair; but I made it so cosy, that like the last line, "it reconciled me to my lot."

Oh, Crusoe! how I would have loved to have shared Juan Fernandez with thee! What a Friday I would have been, and what enjoyment I should have discovered in everything—except black man killing! But even that I should have taken my part in it if it came to the question "kill or be killed."



FOOTNOTE:

1: It so happened that only a few years since, a young lady, taking a row after church one Sunday evening, lost an oar overboard and drifted out to sea. In the morning she was picked up (being then quite out of sight of land) by a vessel bound for Canada, and actually taken to Newfoundland, from whence in about a month she arrived home safely, much to the joy of her sorrowing friends, who had given her up as drowned.



CHAPTER VIII.

A TRIP TO ST. SAMPSON'S HARBOUR—A HORRID PORCINE MURDER—A VOYAGE ROUND SARK—NEARLY CAPSIZED—TRIP ROUND GUERNSEY—THE PEPPER-BOX—CURIOSITY OF TOURISTS.

From time to time I made many improvements in the "Yellow Boy," and learnt her capabilities, so that in time I took quite long cruises as far as Guernsey, and even to Sark.

It will be remembered that two of the conditions my father imposed upon me, were that I should not land on any other island nor speak to anyone under any pretence whatever, and these rules I rigorously carried out. Many a time passing boatmen hailed me, but a wave of the hand and my finger pointed to my output tongue was the only answer they received, consequently I was called the "Dumb Man of Jethou," or the "Yellow Boy," and as such and by no other name many of the fishermen knew me. Those who did not know my history pitied me as a kind of voiceless castaway or semi-sane being.

My long trips were sometimes undertaken on calm moonlight nights: one, I remember, was to St. Sampson's Harbour, Guernsey. I started about three a.m., and reached the harbour before four o'clock, so that I had a good look around the little haven, and at the shipping before anyone was astir. I moored to the cable of a big brigantine which was lying alongside the wharf ready for her cargo of granite for London. Curb stones, blocks for paving, and broken metal for macadam roads are all shipped here to the amount of several thousand tons weekly, so that the granite quarrying and dressing give occupation to about 2,000 men, women, and children. Granite working and fruit growing are the two great industries of the island, which seems to me to be composed principally of two extremely different materials—granite and glass; at any rate it is not the place for stone throwing.

As I swung on the cable of the big ship, I made myself a cup of coffee; for I always carried a small lamp stove with me, so that I could cook the fish I caught fresh from the sea, or make myself a cup of tea or coffee to wash my meal down with.

I have since found, that within the memory of persons still alive, Guernsey was nearly cut off from Vale Parish by an arm of the sea, which flowed over the salt marshes at high tide, so that all communication was cut off between the two parts of the island except by one little bridge and the ferry boat. The bridge was about 380 yards west of St. Sampson's Church; but at the present day pleasant meadows, houses, and roads take the place of the broad stream of salt water and marshes, which formerly made Guernsey and Vale separate islands twice a day, at the time of high tide.

Just before five o'clock when heads began to peep over bulwarks, and men to appear on the quay, passing to their work, I thought it time to be off, as my strange craft would be sure to attract attention, which I did not court, so I packed up and made snug for sailing. I was only just in time, for a bearded face looked over the bulwarks of the brigantine, and hailed me with a "Good morning, mate!" but I only pointed to my mouth and ears as I unmoored. When I looked up again as I pushed off there were half a dozen merry faces peering over the side at me, and I could see they were surprised at the "Yellow Boy" and her dumb skipper. As I sculled out of the harbour I could hear their remarks and laughter, despite my deaf-mutism, and would gladly have had a chat with them if it had not been for my "rules," for these were the first human voices I had heard close by me for nearly four months.

Away I scudded, taking my way across the Little Russel, past the stone fort, with its one pop-gun on top, which is supposed to dominate the channel, standing as it does on a rocky islet midway between Guernsey and Herm. If a modern warship meant business, the bellicose gunners of this little inkpot-looking fort would have what the French call a mauvais quart d'heure. Arrived home about seven I had all the day before me. One of our poets says,

"The only way to lengthen our days, Is to take a piece off of the night, my boys!"

This I used frequently to do, but always took care to take my piece off the night, so as to prefix the day instead of making it a kind of baccanalian appendix. I have sometimes had my day twenty hours long, from two in the morning till ten at night; but with this I used afterwards to take an antidote in the shape of ten or eleven hours' sleep. On such occasions I always gave my animals a double allowance of food, and if they were improvident enough to consume it, as if it were carnival time, or a period of some great feast, that was their look out, and after their feast came a fast, which at worst only gave them an increased appetite, and did them no real harm.

Speaking of appetite and eating, I must describe my first pig-killing. I felt that I required pork, and the more I thought of it the more I was convinced that I must have it, although a murder had to be committed before I could have it either roast, boiled, or fried. Very well, what easier! There were the two pigs, each about one hundred and forty pounds weight; all I had to do was to kill one. Of course I would set about it at once; but upon reflection I became aware that some courage was required, and that I was totally ignorant of the work before me. However, I sharpened a long knife and went and had a look at the pigs, and the more I looked the less I liked my task; so much so, that after half an hour I decided that I would have tinned mutton for dinner—the pork would be too fresh, and perhaps it might be a dull day to-morrow, and I should want something to do! So the pig received a respite. Next morning when I awoke and considered how and when I should kill the pig, I made the resolve that come what might "that day the pig should die."

After breakfast I again sharpened the knife, as if it had become blunt again in the night, and got up a razor edge on the weapon, and once more proceeded to the stye. I selected my victim, and got one of my legs over the wall of the enclosure; but then my heart failed me, it seemed as if I was about to slay an old friend; indeed, they were old friends, those two piggies, and I had had many a chat with them, in fact, could almost understand their language of grunts.

How was I going to secure my victim before giving the coup de grace? Should he not be offered up on a stool? if so, I had not one to use; but an idea struck me, and that idea I adopted. Over the stye, about ten feet from the ground, the limb of a walnut tree stretched across, and my idea was to drop a line over the bough and make it fast round the porker's snout, haul him up on his hind legs, and bury my knife up to the hilt in his throat about where I thought his heart was situated. Away I went and procured my cord, threw the end over the limb, made a noose, and got it in the pig's mouth and over his nose; then I hauled away amid the most blood-curdling shrieks imaginable. I got him on his hind legs, and then for the first time, as I took the knife from my belt, I knew the full meaning of the word "coward." But the deed had to be done, it would never do to let the animal die of old age while I wanted meat; so, setting my teeth, plunge went the knife, and at the same time in my eagerness to step back, down I fell backward over the other pig, who turned and bit me in the thigh, and then as he rushed away went full butt into his comrade, which broke the rope, and down came the bleeding animal on top of me. I was in an awful state of filth, and as I rose they both came at me again; in fact I might have been seriously hurt had I not used my knife freely on the already-wounded pig. Luckily the other ran away, or it might have been serious for me. In falling a second time I went down with my leg under me, and could not rise; but I drove the knife into the animal's breast with all my might, and then, seizing him round the body with my arms, forced the hilt further in with my chest, but instead of killing the beast, to my horror the point came out of his back as he freed himself and walked away. I rose and got out of the stye as nimbly as I possibly could, and sat down to try and find my face through the accumulation of blood and filth, which having done, I peeped over the stye wall, and found the pig still alive; so, to end the poor thing's misery and my own, I took up my gun and shot him dead. What a relief it was to see him lie stone still in an instant. I vowed never to attempt a porcine murder again, and while I was on the island the other pig had a good time of it, for as governor of Jethou I abolished capital punishment, and if a pig's years were as many as Methuselah's, he might enjoy them all before I should again attempt to put a period to them.

From assassination to boat sailing is a long stride but at least a change.

I performed two long voyages in my little craft; at least they seemed long ones to me at the time, considering the dangers of navigation in these rocky, swift seas.



One trip was to Sark, which lies about six miles south-east of Jethou. I selected a beautiful day in August for this trip, and started at daylight, about four a.m., well provisioned, and with "Begum" to accompany me, for somehow I always felt safer with him beside me. A light south-west wind was blowing, so we reached Sark by six a.m., and mooring the boat at the foot of the Coupee, in a bay called Grand Greve, I prepared coffee, and had a very leisurely breakfast, wondering at man's capacity for stowage; but that is due to the salt breeze which never yet put a man's liver wrong.

After enjoying the rocking in the bright warm sunshine, and watching the tiny people crossing the Coupee (like the little men crossing a bridge on a willow-patterned plate), three hundred feet overhead, off I started again. I kept about two hundred yards from the precipitous sides of the island, steering so close to the rock Moie de la Bretagne, which rises ninety feet above the sea, that I touched it as we (my boat, dog, and I) glided by.

Next, into the romantic little bay of Port Gorey (just a lovers' paradise), where I let "Begum" have a run ashore while I sketched. Here are situate the mines which were abandoned many years ago as a dismal failure, leaving as a legacy to those fond of sketching some ruinous cottages and huge chimney shafts, which look down on the little Bay of Gorey, as Gog and Magog look down on the visitors to the London Guildhall.

Leaving Gorey we had a good look at the rock called L'Etac de Sark with its satellites, and gave them a wide berth, for their tooth-like appearance is not at all pleasant when but an inch of wood lies between one and a watery grave. L'Etac is the highest isolated rock round the island, rising nearly two hundred feet above low water.



To save time, instead of sweeping the bays we made a straight line, so as to pass between Point Derrible and La Couchee, and quickly arrived off what one may suppose the most picturesque spot in the Channel Isles—Creux Harbour, with its stumpy little breakwater pier and cave cutting which gives entrance to the island. The half-dozen fishermen on the quay gave us a cheer as we passed, in answer to a wave from my yellow cap.

On our right were the rocky islets, rising about one hundred feet above the sea, called La Burons, and I passed just in time to see a sheep fall with a plunge and splash into the sea, shot by a man in a boat. This appeared to be the local way of slaughtering the sheep which are put on the rocks to crop the sparse herbage which grows above high-water mark. After a fortnight among the rocks sheep will get so agile and surefooted, that a man has no chance with them in running or climbing, hence the rifle has to be employed to obtain mutton.

After passing Grand Moie (one hundred and seventeen feet)—there are no other rocks of any magnitude—so keeping well out I stripped and tumbled overboard, hanging now to the stern, and then swimming alongside, but never more than a yard away, for fear a current might part my boat and me. "Begum," of course, swam with me, and seemed to keep an eye on his master, for he seldom went far away from me. Whenever I looked round his dear old brown eyes were upon me, as if he would say, "How are you getting on, master?"

We rounded the northernmost point of Sark, a rock called Bec du Nez, about twelve a.m., and with a fair wind ran into Port Jument, where we hove to for dinner; then creeping round Point Moie de Mouton, anchored off the famous Gouilot caves, and took a sketch, but could not by reason of my compact enter them. This was very annoying, for I had heard so much about them and their wonderful pools and anemonae. Disappointedly hauling in my anchor I steered for the Gouilot Pass, and like a fool nearly lost myself and craft. The distance between Moie de Gouilot and the island of Brechou is only about seventy yards, and as it was now past three o'clock, a swift tide was pouring pell-mell through the channel; this in my indolence I did not think of, and had like an ass taken a turn of the sheet round a cleat, and somehow got it jammed. Away went the "Yellow Boy," like a shot out of a gun, and as we passed through, a big puff of wind came round the end of Brechou, and nearly took the mast out before I could let go the sheet. Another two or three inches more and we must have capsized, and it was only due to the boat being rather heavily laden with cooking apparatus, gun, and cartridges, extra provisions, and the weight of "Begum" (eighty pounds), who was fortunately lying to windward, that we did not heel right over. As it was we were all afloat in each compartment, so I ran into the beautiful bay of Havre Gosselin and anchored. It took an hour to bale out and sponge dry and put everything in order for the run home. After rightsiding, and when over my tea, I cast my eyes upon the beautiful precipitous vale which comes down from a height of about one hundred and fifty feet to the sandy shore. It was an exquisite sight in the full glow of the western sun, and would make a lovely theme for a canvas. It was an emerald valley, through the trees of which the sun glinted and made splendid contrasts of light and shade so beloved by the artist, while at the top of the vale, hung, or appeared to hang, half a dozen fishermen's cottages, such as the aforesaid artist frequently looks for in vain; but here they are, and perhaps my artistic friends may thank me for pointing out these delightful "bits" to them.

I lingered as long as prudence would allow at this enchanting spot, and crept along the lee of Brechou Island to get a peep at its harbour or port, and soon found it, facing due west, a snug little haven enough in calm weather; but the very thought of trying to get into it in a heavy sea was enough to make one shudder. A steep path leads up from the beach to a farmhouse, which stands high upon the island; it is the only habitation in the place.

This island is probably larger than Jethou, but being so near Havre Gosselin is not so lonely, as help may very quickly be summoned in case of accident or illness.

How I should have loved to pay the old farmer and his family a visit to compare notes with him; but it could not be, and even if I had seen him it is doubtful if I could have understood him, as doubtless he spoke Sarkoise French, and with that language I was totally unacquainted. Still, we might have had what the Indians call a "pow-wow," and fraternised to some extent if only by signs.

At a little past six away we steered for home, but with a head wind and rather choppy sea, so there was no help for it but to tack, which made a long trip of it; but to make it short to the reader we reached home about nine p.m., tired, wet, and hungry, for it began to drizzle at sundown. Still, I never enjoyed a trip better than this memorable one of about twenty-five miles, although I was glad after supper to lay my head down on my pillow (and dream it all over again).

At the risk of wearying my readers I must tell them of a trip I took round Guernsey about a month later.

"Begum" went with me, that was now a matter of course, for directly the boat was shoved off, he would jump in and take his seat as if he were pilot: there was no getting him out again.

Well provisioned and provided for casualties, we started at the somewhat late hour of six a.m., and in an hour made the land opposite St. Sampson's harbour, and peeped in on passing, so as to see the busy scene of granite trimming, breaking, and loading, which goes on here from sunrise to sunset all the year round. I could plainly hear the detonations as shots were fired in the quarries, and the dull rumble of the stone, as great masses of granite, which have been unmoved since the creation, were rent asunder and toppled into the quarry below. Vale Castle and Bordeaux harbour, where I anchored, look picturesque from whatever points they are seen, whether from land or sea, and two hours quickly glided by as I sketched the lovely little bits of scenery around me. My plan was to take about half an hour for each sketch, to get the general outline and feeling of color, so that on my return I had plenty to occupy me on a rainy day.

The next point of interest was a little rocky island just past Bordeaux, called Hommet Paradis, which is the scene of the death of Victor Hugo's hero, Gilliatt, as related in "The Toilers of the Sea." He creates a splendid hero, and in the last chapter makes him commit suicide in an impossible manner. He causes his hero to stand in the sea, so that the tide rises up to his feet, his knees, his waist, his shoulders, till, still watching the vessel which bears his love from him through his own stupid act, nothing but his head remains. Then the tide continues to rise, and as the vessel vanishes on the horizon, "the head of Gilliatt disappears. Nothing was visible now but the sea." Surely he might have left a lock of hair or a sigh to mark the spot where he disappeared. I have tried on even a very calm day to stand as Hugo's hero did, and let the tide rise around me, but find the thing an impossibility. The motion of the rising tide would lift one off their feet long before the water rose above their shoulders, and as to making the man stand still and drown, why the idea is ludicrous. But as Hugo created his hero, why should he not be allowed to destroy him as he likes? The book (except the last chapter) is an exquisite piece of word painting, but I always wish he had made a happy end of his hero. I felt this so much when I read it on Jethou (for the third or fourth time) that I actually re-wrote the last chapter for my own edification, and made Gilliatt marry Dernchette willy-nilly, so that everything ended properly, and the lovers "lived happily ever after."

North Guernsey (called Parish) is very uninteresting, in fact, from the sea it looks a perfectly flat wilderness or desert, and I was glad when the "Yellow Boy" glided into the deep clear blue water of Grand Havre, where we moored for lunch.

Here an incident occurred which might have caused me to go ashore against my wish. While peppering some fish I was eating, the lid came off my little tin box, and the contents were strewn thickly on my food. Some of the condiment I scooped back into the box, and then gave a mighty puff to blow the rest off my plate, when, unluckily blowing against the wind, some of it blew into my eyes, causing me exquisite pain for some time, necessitating my rubbing them.

Had I remembered the Spanish proverb, "Never rub your eyes but with your elbows," I should have saved myself a lot of needless pain, for they became quite inflamed. I bathed them first in tepid water and afterwards in cold, and then sat down in the bottom of the boat with a wet handkerchief over them for an hour. This did them much good, but still they felt very hot and inflamed. I could only just see to pick my way among the shoals of rocks along this west coast, and consequently made very slow progress. Saline, Cobo, and Vazon Bays were all sailed slowly through, and very pretty they were; but it now dawned upon me that I should not see Jethou to-night, as it was already approaching the gloaming of the day. Lowering the sail I put out the sculls, and paddled back to a little inlet I had noticed near Cobo Bay, called Albecq Cove, a rocky little inlet, but nicely sheltered from the south-west wind, then gently blowing. Here I made all snug for the night; put on my kettle to boil water for tea, while with the sail I made a kind of awning to roof in the boat should it come on to rain, and made myself generally comfortable.

At nine p.m. I went to sleep, and at four a.m. was up again getting ready for a start. My eyes felt nearly well again, but still rather weak, so, stripping, I jumped overboard, and had a swim and dive, then dressed, and after a cup of coffee felt no more of the eye soreness.

Between Lihou Island and the shore I moored in shallow water to make a sketch of the remains of what are said to have once been a Priory, standing on the island, and which have since been used as a manufactory of iodine, although it is now discontinued. When my sketch was nearly completed, I became suddenly aware, by reason of the cessation of motion, that my craft was aground. Sure enough so it was, for the tide had left me on the causeway (laid bare at low tide), which serves as a means of communication with the shore for the family who occupy the only house on the eighteen-acre island. I jumped up and seized the oars, and pushed with main and utmost might, but the "Yellow Boy" refused to budge, and I was in a quandary. The tide would not float me for another three or four hours, so to wait would spoil my whole morning, and if I stepped overboard and pushed off, should I not be breaking my contract by landing? I sat down a few minutes and held council with myself, and came to the conclusion that to stand in a foot of water was not landing, so over I jumped, and by dint of a great deal of pushing, hauling, perspiring, and the use of interjections (not profane, for I never use a bad word), I got her off into deep water, and jumped in, resolving never to anchor again in fleet water with a falling tide.

From Lihou I made a bee-line to the Hanois lighthouse, which stands about a mile from the shore, and forcibly reminds one of the Longship Light off Land's End, Cornwall. I passed so close that the two men who were standing on the rocks with a tub between them doing their week's washing, asked me ashore; but I made a gurgling noise in my throat, and pointed to my ears and mouth as I passed on. I meant them to understand by this that I was a deaf mute, but they evidently took me for a lunatic, as I could hear by their remarks.

Rounding Pleinmont Point, upon which stands the dreary, solitary stone house mentioned so frequently in Hugo's "Toilers of the Sea," I caught the south breeze which was now blowing very fresh, and having a lea shore on my left, I had to give it rather a wide berth till I came to La Moye Point, where I turned into Petit Bo Bay for my mid-day meal, that being somewhat sheltered from the wind. It is a lovely little haven, and so I found Icart, Moulin-Huet, and Fermain Bays, with their Titanic surroundings.

While moored in Fermain Bay admiring the beautiful scene, the wooded slopes of the environing hills, the grand rocks, the pretty little semicircular stretch of yellow sandy beach, the puny little martello tower, and other items of interest, I discovered that while my surroundings were interesting me, that I was also interesting my surroundings, for I found I was gradually being surrounded by boats. These contained pleasure parties, to whom the fishermen had evidently told the story of my Crusoe life, and they were therefore anxious to get a near view of me and my curious craft, while "Begum" came in for his share of attention also.

Some of the people wished to speak to me, but I up anchor, and with my usual dumb appeal to my ears and mouth tried to get away, but there was so little wind under the great cliffs that my progress was very slow, so I had to sit, tiller and sheet in hand, while my tormentors said their say, to me and about me, in French, German, and English. One young lady, when she found I was dumb to her enquiries, made a confidant of "Begum," and told him how she would like to see over Crusoe's island, as she called Jethou, but all to no purpose, for, like his master, the dog was dumb also, though not deaf.

I should have bubbled over with pleasure to show the damsel my island and resources; but all I could do was to raise my yellow cap, and expand my mouth horizontally across my face, to signify my approval of her attention to my dog!

As the boat crept out from the headland of Fermain Bay my yellow sail began to draw, and very soon I left my pursuers behind. I had become so used to my queer yellow boat and its yellow sail and flag, that I had long ceased to see anything peculiar in it; but of course to other eyes my craft and its crew were a source of speculation and surprise. After this I never went near Guernsey again during the day-time.

I made a straight run for home now, but somehow felt rather melancholy, and could not get the young lady's face out of my mind. I felt somewhat depressed to think I was fleeing from my fellow-men, as if I had committed some grave offence and could not face them; but when once my foot touched Jethou's shore (about seven p.m.) my thoughts and melancholia vanished. There I was, home again, patting "Eddy's" back, and pulling his long ears, and feeding the pig, and milking the goat, getting ready my tea, and finally stretching my weary legs to take out the kinks, which a couple of days in an open boat will put into any man's limbs.



CHAPTER IX.

HARVEST OPERATIONS—EXPLORE LA CREUX DERRIBLE, AND NEARLY LOSE MY LIFE—CRUSOE ON CRUTCHES—AN EXTRAORDINARY DISCOVERY—KILL A GRAMPUS—OIL ON TROUBLED WATERS—MAKE AN OVERFLOW PUMP.

After my boating adventures I began to think it was high time I should spend a week or two ashore, looking after my crops and the estate generally.

It was now September, and my apples and pears were ripe, and so were the lovely mulberries. The giant tree was a sight to behold, with its bushels of red, purple, and blackish-ruby fruit. I might have gathered enough fruit and vegetables to have supplied a small community throughout the season, so prolific is the soil, and encouraging to vegetation the air.

My potatoes turned out remarkably well—free from blemish, and of good flavour. I must have had two or three tons, and went through the labour of digging them and picking up all the tiny ones, as if I expected or feared a famine. The pig's winter food was assured, at all events.



Long previous to this I had cut and gathered my hay crop, which was to form the chief sustenance for "Eddy," and the goat, "Corny," for the next five or six months. This I made into a neat stack close to the house, and thatched thickly with brakes, beside which I covered it with tarpaulin, and girded it about with old chain-cable to prevent its being blown away: also I guarded the base with a surrounding of wire-netting to preserve it from the rabbits.

The crop I took most pleasure in was the barley, which I looked upon as my legitimate harvest; the other crops seeming to be more like gardening than real harvest work. I cut every handful with a reaping hook, which took a long time; but as I had not a scythe this was my only way of cutting it down. True, the Channel Islands mode of harvesting the barley is to pull it up by the roots, a handful at a time, knocking the soil off the roots upon the toe of the boot; but this seemed to me such an un-English method that I would have nothing to do with it.

After it had lain to dry for three or four days I called "Eddy" and my solid-wheeled cart into requisition, and took it, load by load, down the rocky path to the store-house, where I placed it all safely away in the upper chamber. The pathway was so narrow in places that the deviation of a few inches would have caused donkey, load, and cart, to be precipitated scores of feet down the abrupt slope into the sea beneath. To avoid this catastrophe I had to take a pick-axe and shovel, and devote a whole day to widening it in parts, making this, the main path to the top of the island, nowhere less than four feet wide.

I rode home atop of the last load, and at my own door drank my own health, with three cheers for everything and everybody, to which "Flap," the gull gave a kind of croak, by way of approval to my sentiments.

While my harvest was in progress I met with an adventure which might have terminated the harvesting and my existence at the same time.

It was a boisterous day. I was tired of digging potatoes, for my back ached, and I wanted a rest. The Cotills being near the awful crater-like mouth of La Creux Derrible, I thought I would go and explore it, and find out in my own way, all about it; so, dropping my occupation, I wandered slowly down the zig-zag, bracken-hemmed path, lit my pipe, and prepared myself for laziness for an hour.

When I am lazy I like to be thorough. I cannot bear to be half at work and half at play; it is neither one thing nor another. So on this occasion I strolled quietly down the pathway, which zig-zags seven or eight times before it ends abruptly on the brow of a little cliff facing La Fauconnaire. I scrambled down the cliff, across the beach, and over the rocks which form a barrier to the entrance of the cavern leading to the Creux. I noticed that the tide allowed an entrance to be effected, so I climbed in over the gigantic boulders with which the floor of the black cavern is covered, and soon found myself standing on the pebbly floor of the chasm, looking up at its perpendicular sides, and admiring the various ferns, weeds, and flowers which grew in beauty from its many clefts and fissures. Then I saw something move in a hole near my feet, and found it to be a wounded rabbit, which had apparently fallen down the shaft from one of the little ledges a hundred and fifty feet above. The timid little fellow did not attempt to run away, so, picking him up, I examined him and discovered that both his fore legs were broken, and it quite hurt me to see the pitiful look he gave with his bright, prominent, gazelle-like eyes. I fondled the wounded animal, and looking upward intently, presently saw other little rodents hopping round little ledges near the top, which did not appear, from where I stood, to be so wide as their bodies; but there they were, and although I waited expectantly for a long time for a prospective dinner, no others fell upon me. I should have been afraid to shoot at them had I had my gun, for fear of detaching pieces of rock, which, falling from such a height, might have crushed my skull in.

Seeing it was hopeless to think of saving the poor little bunny's life, I gave him the "regulation stretch," and quieted him for ever. It seemed strange that I should have cared for this one's life, and would have saved it if I could, when I was daily trapping and shooting them in all directions.

I think it was his plaintive look that did it, or the consciousness that I was a superior being, and had his little life (to a certain extent) at my command, just as our Father above has mine; but anyway, in his wounded state I knew that death was his best friend. Looking round I at once realized what death meant—death in a terrible form—not to a rabbit, but death to myself—and for a moment I felt paralyzed; for there was the sea creeping in upon me, not ten yards away. The roof of the cavern through which I had to pass, did not appear far above the water at the outer mouth. As I gazed along the tunnel-like aperture the waves continually broke, sending spray to the roof, shutting out much of the daylight seaward, though from the opening above me the sunlit sky shed its light upon me.

Could I find a means of climbing up the perpendicular sides of my prison, if only a few feet? No, I could not see a spot where even a squirrel could ascend. What was to be done? The outlet was now filled to the roof with the incoming tide, which here has a rise of from twenty-five to thirty feet from low to high tide.

The sea reached my feet, and to my excited imagination felt like the fingers of death trying to clutch me. But I am not one to give up without a big struggle, and I made up my mind to attempt to swim round and round the opening, like a rat in a pail, if it came to the worst; but although I am a good swimmer, I doubted my ability to keep afloat for three or four hours, with a heavy sea pouring into the circular cavity, which would presently be filled with a whirlpool of seething, foaming water. I should be knocked and buffeted from side to side against the adamantine rocks till I was dead, then tossed and played with till the tide ran out and carried my body into the vast ocean beyond, as food for fishes. My friends would never hear of me again, and my animals on the island would starve till—yes, why not try?

My soliloquy was cut short by noticing a crag project beyond the others about ten or twelve feet from the ground. Why could I not throw my doubled silk sash over it, and haul myself up? I would try.

The sea was now up to my knees, and was beginning to exert a rotary motion, which, as the tide rose, would increase in velocity. So off came my waist-sash, and after a few attempts it lodged over the boss of rock; then to strengthen it I twisted it like a double rope, and carefully hauled myself up it, hand over hand, till I grasped the protruding rock; but as it only jutted out a few inches there was no possibility of sitting upon it, so I gradually worked my way up by clutching at any inequalities in the surrounding rock till I got one knee upon it, and there I hung, with my fingers bent over a fissure like fish-hooks. How I envied the rabbits overhead, who occasionally dislodged the detritus of rock, which fell upon me. What would I not have given to be back on the ledges of the Cotills, digging potatoes! But there I was, like a rat in a trap, with no means of egress.

In a short time my fingers became cramped, and the sharp rock cut my knee to such an extent that the perspiration broke out clammily on my forehead, as I realised that in a few minutes I must loose my hold and drop into the whirling water beneath, unless I could find some other means of supporting myself. I looked about, and presently found a small hole for my right hand—one deep enough to get a fairly good hold upon—and putting my fingers into this, I gently let my left hand glide down the rock and bring up the sash on that side. This I placed in my mouth, gently changed hands and hauled up the right end of the sash, then, after many attempts, with my mouth and right hand I managed to tie a knot in it so as to form the sash into a short endless band. This I dropped down, and putting my foot in the loop, had a somewhat secure support.



There I hung for about three hours, till the tide only left about two feet of water on the upper part of the floor of the cavern. When I attempted to descend I found I could not straighten my right leg because of the constant pressure for such a long time upon the knee-joint, so I waited till the cave floor was almost bare, and then let myself fall down as gently as possible. I was not hurt by the fall, but could not stand, as my knee would not allow itself to be straightened. I sat down for an hour till the tide allowed me to hop out in great pain. Oh, how glad I was to be out of that dreadful place; and even in my crippled state I rejoiced at my liberty! Upon getting to the foot of the Cotills cliff, I whistled for my faithful "Begum," but no "Begum" came, so I sat down and rested, and whistled, and whistled again, till presently away he came tumbling down the breech in the cliffs, to my great delight. After a bit I despatched him to fetch "Eddy," and while that worthy was on his way to my help, managed, with great exertion and risk, to scale the cliff. "Eddy" bore me up the zig-zag, and home by the lower path, and thankful indeed was I to get there.

I bathed my knee, and did all I could for it, but it was many days before I fully recovered the use of the limb; in fact, for three days I used a crutch, which helped me along famously. Fancy a Crusoe on crutches! After this adventure I made up my mind that I was not born to be drowned.

Now, a week after my Creux adventure another incident occurred which greatly influenced my career both as regards my stay on the island and my after life. This was a curious discovery I made quite by accident.

It happened to be a very wet morning when I rose, and looked as if it would continue all day, so I thought I would stay indoors and tidy up my dwelling. I soon prepared my breakfast, and sat down to enjoy it, and as I and my dog were discussing it, I could not help noticing the dilapidated state of the stained and ragged wall-paper. It had probably been on many years, and I recollected that somewhere among my stores I had about a dozen rolls of new paper, so I said to myself, "Why not strip the walls and re-paper the room?"

Good! I soon cleared the room, and with a pail of water and a brush began to soak the old paper and strip it off, when I found, to my surprise, that it was several layers thick—five at least—while underneath all was a kind of netting of some sort of linen-looking fabric. I surmised that this was to give a better adhesive power to the paste, as probably the walls might be damp, although they did not appear to be so. So I tore the various papers off the wall, till I clumsily dragged off a piece of the netting also. The netting came quite off in my hand; a circular piece, about eighteen inches across. I examined it to see what it really was, and to my amazement discovered it was a beautiful lace collar. What a curious way of putting a collar on I thought, and returned to the wall to see if it wore any other finery, and quickly discovered that the four walls were covered all over with lace of beautiful design. There were pieces of all shapes and sizes, and most of it of exquisite workmanship; so, packing it into a trunk with plenty of tobacco among it to keep away insects, I sealed it up, and stood it in a dry place for future consideration.

Even this curious find was not all I discovered, nor the most important, although at the time I made my second discovery I did not attach any value to it. It was this. When I came to the third side of the room, opposite the door, I came upon a sort of niche or cupboard, close up to the ceiling, which had no door, but simply a piece of lace tacked over the aperture, and then thickly papered over some seven or eight times. The opening was about ten inches high, eight inches wide, by six inches deep, and in it stood two leathern drinking cups, capable of containing about a pint each. In the first I took down was a tiny vial and three gem rings, and in the second a small roll of paper, which upon unrolling I found to be about two feet long by four inches wide. Upon it, in very faded ink, was a long list of something in French. It looked like a very heavy washing bill, and I was about to throw it away when I reflected that it might tell something about the lace and the rings, so I rolled it up in a linen bandage, and put it and the other articles in my clothes box, so that some day I might get it deciphered.

All this made me very excited, and I am afraid my thoughts were more on my discoveries than upon my work, for the new paper was very badly put on the walls; it was not hung perpendicularly, and had several gaping joints, which annoyed me all the time I was on the island. But I had not paper enough to recover the walls, as I used the rest for my bed-chamber; therefore it remained, a lasting memorial of my slovenliness and bad workmanship.

About this time I shot a curious specimen—too large for stuffing—a grampus. I was in my boat one day fishing for whiting, when I heard a peculiar noise behind me, and looking round, saw a huge monster rise from the sea about a hundred yards off, and make straight for me. Before getting to the boat he dived again and again, when I saw that it was apparently a young whale. Instinctively I clutched my gun, and as the monster dived within a dozen yards of my boat I watched its rising; up he came, not twenty feet away, whereupon I let him have both barrels at the back of his head, and to my surprise he immediately turned over, belly upward, gave a shudder, and was dead. I took my prize in tow, and found on landing that it was upwards of ten feet long, and must have weighed several hundredweight, for out of the water it was perfectly unmanageable. I had to yoke "Eddy" and myself together, and drag the monster above high water-mark, till I decided what to do with it.

In the morning I took off the skin, which would have made excellent leather, but I had no means of tanning it, so was jettisoned. Beneath the skin was a thick layer of blubber, and this I flayed off, making myself in a pretty pickle, and soon had a large pile of this reeking adipose deposit. Then I brought my copper on the beach, as it was a portable one, and lighting a fire I "tryed," or boiled my blubber down and had several gallons to bottle by the end of the day.

The flesh, I believe, is eatable, but it looked so dark and rich that I was afraid to cook a piece and try it. Grampus is, no doubt, all very well for shipwrecked mariners, but as I had plenty of other food the carcase followed the skin into the sea. As it glided into the rough water the oil exuded, and made a large patch of calm water as smooth as a mill-pond.

This gave me a splendid idea for using the oil. For the future I would always take some with me on my boating expeditions! I did, and put it in a bottle which I kept near the bows, and whenever I got into difficulties near rocks or in a rough sea I could command a calm. This power I used on many occasions, and with invariable success. For instance, if my lines got foul in a choppy sea, I could make the sea calm, and get my gear out of tangle capitally, which, with the pitching of my craft and the "send" of the following waves, would have otherwise been a nearly hopeless task. Another use I put the oil to was to pour some on my fish pond and bring the surface to a perfect calm; then I could study my fish as well as if they were simply under a sheet of glass, while by lying flat down on the margin of the pool, with my face near the water, I could see even the most minute object on the bottom. Looking into this pool was to me like looking into another world. Once when very intent upon the doings of some spider-crabs, the rock upon which I leaned my chest and hands gave way beneath my weight, and I was immediately transformed into a fish, or at any rate, for some moments I was an occupant of the same element and abode as the fish; but I soon scrambled out without even a crab or lobster taking the opportunity of tweaking my nose.

To keep up my supply of oil I was continually on the look out for grampuses or porpoises; but I did not see another of the former, although plenty of the latter were to be seen at times—generally out of range. Two I shot, but I believe when hit they sink. Anyway I did not see either of them again, although the water was coloured with blood, shewing that my aim had been true. I doubly wished to get a porpoise, for the sake of its oil, and also to cut a steak and try its flavour, as I have heard that in some of the ports on the eastern seaboard of the United States, boats are fitted out to capture young porpoises for the hotels, as porpoise calf is considered a delicacy. If cod liver oil is good for consumptives, why not porpoise cutlets?

How I would have liked to place a porpoise in my fish pond! What a rumpus he would have caused? I might have seen him then in his habit as he lived.

My bucket pump frequently took it into its head to go on strike; that is, it would work when it pleased, and be idle if it wished; so I had to supplement it with another kind of apparatus. This contrivance was by using a nine-foot length of four-inch iron piping, which I found in the boat-store, and which had probably belonged to some vessel as the barrel of a pump, or something of the kind. To this I fitted a long wooden piston, having a wooden disk on the end, through which I cut a circular hole, and fitted over it a leathern valve. When I pushed this piston down into the water the valve would open and the water would enter the barrel, and when I drew the piston up the valve would close and draw the water to the mouth of the pipe, where it poured out of a hole a few inches from the top into a wooden trough, which conveyed it into the pool. This meant hard manual labour; but as I only had to use it about once a week it was exercise for me, and I enjoyed it. So did the fish, for they would come to the new water in numbers, either because of the food contained in the water, or because of its coolness in the hot weather, or some other reason that I am not scientist enough to fathom.

My pond was my place of meditation, and often I would dream a couple of hours away, thinking of home and those dear to me. I was like Adam, and sometimes sadly sighed for my Eve; but Eve, otherwise Priscilla, was hundreds of miles away; so I sighed and yawned, and made myself very content with my dog and gun, and other belongings.



CHAPTER X.

A STORM AND A WRECK—THE CASTAWAY—DEAD—A NIGHT OF HORROR—THE BOATHOUSE DESTROYED—A BURIAL AT SEA.

Winter was now rapidly approaching, but before its advent something of a very grave nature happened.

It had been a very blustering day, with occasional showers of sleet, when about four p.m. I found myself standing by the watch-house, holding my hat on; the sun fast setting in a very angry-looking sky.

Evidently a storm was brewing, so I hauled my saucy little "Yellow Boy" high above high-water line, and made everything snug before I went indoors just after darkness had fallen all around. I felt uncomfortable somehow, but could not tell why; but when the time for bed came, and the wind was howling round the house as if it meant to cast it bodily into the sea, I did not for some reason care to turn in; so replenishing my lamp I sat down to read, but the wind shook the casements so roughly that I had to give it up. About midnight, although it was late in the autumn, a flash of lightning lit up the room and startled me; in a few seconds the thunder began to roll, but a long way off.

I sat waiting for another flash, and presently it came, this time with the thunder much nearer. A little while and another more vivid flash, with the thunder close to its heels, upon which I started up on the impulse of the moment and donned my oilskin suit and sou'wester and sallied out into the night; why I knew not. At first the night was pitch dark, but a flash of brilliant lightning seemed to light up the whole island, while at the same time came a crash of thunder, such as I hope never to hear the like of again. It was as if the whole of the granite island had been shivered to atoms by some awful volcanic crash; in fact, I thought it was an earthquake. It only lasted a few seconds, but it seemed to literally paralyze me; so much so, that I thought I should have fallen. Other flashes succeeded, one of them striking a granite block, which it shivered to pieces, although it weighed many tons, and in the shock appeared itself to be broken; that is, it seemed like the first stroke of a smith's hammer upon a red hot piece of iron, when the sparks fly off in every direction. I dare not go along that path, although it was now probably the safest; but as I went towards the beach I could see the lightning run among the wet rocks like phosphorus.

As I stood by the watch-house I fancied I could detect human voices crying for aid, but put it down to my imagination, till I saw, to my horror, not a hundred yards from the shore, a French Chasse-mare, or fishing boat, driving straight for the rocks. I shouted, but the noise of the breaking sea rendered it inaudible five yards off against such a wind. Two of her three masts were gone, and by the next flash I could distinguish several men crouching by the bulwarks, and one at the tiller. Then came a sudden lurch and a dead stop, a tremendous sea crashed on deck, and I knew she had struck the rocks on the beach not fifty yards from where I stood.

Heaven help them, for no earthly power could. I was helpless to render the slightest assistance. I could only pray, and that I did fervently. Doubtless the men would jump into the sea, with the very remote chance of being thrown ashore alive, but that was very improbable.