The Eerie Adventures of the Lycanthrope Robinson Crusoe

As I observ’d before, I found pens, ink, and paper, and I husbanded them to the utmost. I shall show, 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 I could devise.

 

And this put me in mind that I wanted many things, notwithstanding all I had amassed together. Of these, this of ink was one. Also a spade, pick-axe, 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 go on heavily. It was near a whole year before I had finished my little pale and surrounded my habitation. The 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. I spent sometimes two days in cutting and bringing home one of those posts, and a third day in driving it into the ground. 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 I could foresee, except the ranging the island to seek for food, which I did, more or less, every day.

 

I now began to consider my condition, and the circumstance I was reduced to. I drew up the state of my affairs in writing, not so much to leave them to any that were to come after me as to deliver my thoughts from daily poring upon them and afflicting my mind. As my reason began now to master my despondency, I began to comfort myself as well as I could, and to set the good against the evil, that I might have something to distinguish my case from worse. I stated very impartially, like debtor and creditor, the comforts I enjoyed against the miseries I suffered, thus:

 

EVIL.

 

1) I am cast upon a horrible, desolate island, void of all hope of recovery.

 

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

 

3) I am divided from mankind, a solitaire, one banished from human society.

 

4) I am without any defence, or means to resist any violence.

 

5) I have no soul to speak to, or relieve me.

 

6) I am afflicted with the memories of what the beast has done.

 

GOOD

 

1) But I am alive and not drowned, as all my ship's company were.

 

2) But I am singled out too from all the ship's crew to be spared from death. He that miraculously saved me from death can deliver me from this condition.

 

3) But was I not divided such before by the beast? I am not starved and perishing in a barren place, affording no sustenance.

 

4) But I am cast on an island where the beast can inflict violence on no others.

 

5) But I have got out so many necessary things from the wreck as will either supply my wants, or enable me to supply myself, even as long as I live.

 

6) But I have been given time to reflect and repent, in a place where the beast can hurt no other.

 

Upon the whole, here was an undoubted testimony that there was scarce any condition in the world so miserable but there was something positive to be thankful for in it.

 

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, I began to apply myself to accommodate my way of living, and to make things as easy to me as I could.

 

I have already describ’d my habitation, which was a tent under the side of a rock, surrounded with a strong pale of posts and cables. 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 outside. After some time (I think it was a year and a half) I raised rafters from it, leaning to the rock, and thatched or covered it with boughs of trees and such things as I could get to keep out the rain, which I found at some times of the year very violent.

 

I have already observ’d how I brought all my goods into this pale, and into the cave which I had made behind me. But I must observe, too, at first this was a confused heap of goods which, as they lay in no order, so they took up all my place. I had no room to turn myself. So I set myself to enlarge my cave and work farther into the earth. It was a loose, sandy rock which yielded to the labour I bestowed on it. I 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 the outside of my 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 such necessary things as I found I most wanted, particularly a chair and a table. 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.

 

Peter Clines's books