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Chapter 14
Itwasawearytrampinallways,andifhopehadnotbuoyedmeup,Imusthavecastmyselfdownandgivenup.Whetherwiththeseasalt,orbecauseIwasgrowingfevered,Iwasdistressedwiththirst,andhadtostop,asIwent,anddrinkthepeatywateroutofthehags.
Icametothebayatlast,moredeadthanalive;andatthefirstglance,IthoughttheyardwassomethingfartheroutthanwhenIleftit.InIwent,forthethirdtime,intothesea.Thesandwassmoothandfirm,andshelvedgraduallydown,sothatIcouldwadeouttillthewaterwasalmosttomyneckandthelittlewavessplashedintomyface.Butatthatdepthmyfeetbegantoleaveme,andIdurstventureinnofarther.Asfortheyard,Isawitbobbingveryquietlysometwentyfeetbeyond.
Ihadborneupwelluntilthislastdisappointment;butatthatIcameashore,andflungmyselfdownuponthesandsandwept.
ThetimeIspentupontheislandisstillsohorribleathoughttome,thatImustpassitlightlyover.InallthebooksIhavereadofpeoplecastaway,theyhadeithertheirpocketsfulloftools,orachestofthingswouldbethrownuponthebeachalongwiththem,asifonpurpose.Mycasewasverydifferent.IhadnothinginmypocketsbutmoneyandAlan’ssilverbutton;andbeinginlandbred,Iwasasmuchshortofknowledgeasofmeans.
Iknewindeedthatshell-fishwerecountedgoodtoeat;andamongtherocksoftheisleIfoundagreatplentyoflimpets,whichatfirstIcouldscarcelystrikefromtheirplaces,notknowingquicknesstobeneedful.
