The Eerie Adventures of the Lycanthrope Robinson Crusoe

This action put an end to our pursuit of the canoe with the other savages, who were now got almost out of sight. It was happy for us 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, I could not suppose their boat could live, or that they ever reached their own coast.

 

Yet at the time I did not know this. As I bethought myself my concerns, Friday's father raised a weak hand and pointed at the great totem of the dark church, the cuttel fish figure of my dreams. He cry’d out many words, which had an awful memory to me, and I did recall across the years those words my parrot Poll had cried out before his death. Altho' now one of these words was not foreign to me, for I had discust it with my man Friday many times, and that word was Kathooloo. This did cause me great discomfort, and the beast howl'd within my skin, and I was pleased when the old man let his hand drop and became silent again.

 

In a quarter of an hour I saw Friday come back again, tho’ not so fast as he went. As he came nearer, I found his pace slacker, because he had something in his hand. When he came up to me, I found he had been to the summer house, which was nearer the dark church than my castle, for an earthen jug to bring his father some fresh water, and he had two more cakes or loaves of bread. The bread he gave me, but the water he carried to his father. 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. I sent one of the cakes to the Spaniard too, who was indeed very weak and was reposing himself upon a not as red place under the shade of a tree, which had one of the old symbols carv'd in its bark. When I saw 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 look'd up in my face with all the gratitude and thankfulness that could appear in any countenance, but was so weak, notwithstanding he had so exerted himself in the fight, he could not stand up upon his feet. By way of signs he made it known to me that his name was Olegario, and I gave him my name as well, which brought a relieved smile to his face.

 

Friday came back to me presently, and we two stepped away to the great totem. It was plain he did not like the thing, for he look'd most reluctant to approach it. "Friday," said I, "do you know this man?"

 

He shook his head, which I first took as a denial of knowledge, but then reflected that he objected to my calling the cuttel fish figure of the totem a man. "What is this?" I asked.

 

Friday look'd at me with his large, dark eyes and trembled. "That great Kathooloo," said he, "who sleep and dream beneath the sea."

 

Tho' I suspected as much, this did make me tremble myself, and I repeat'd the question in the hope I had misunderstood my man, or he had misspoke to me. He said again the name, and seem'd at sorts to be confronted by his former god. After some moments his eyes met mine and he said "All things say O to him."

 

I was aware of a noise, and saw that the father, Walla-kay, again had his hand point'd at the totem and was repeating his words, altho' now as a penitent man says his prayers.

 

I spoke to Olegario, the Spaniard, to let Friday help him up if he could. But Friday, a strong fellow, took the man quite up upon his back and carry’d him away to the boat, and set him down upon the gunnel of the canoe with his feet in the inside of it. Then lifting him quite in, Friday set Olegario close to Walla-kay and launched the boat off, and paddled it along the shore faster than I could paddle my empty one. We brought them both safe into our creek an hour later. Friday then went to help our new guests out of the boat, but they were neither of them able to walk, so my poor man knew not what to do.

 

To remedy this, I went to work in my thought. 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 them on, and Friday and I carried them both up together upon it between us.

 

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