Chapter 7

It was September when the _Clinque Ports_ sailed, and now October had come, the middle of spring in Juan Fernandez, and, all round him, nature spoke of hope, and taught of God. But before hope could enter into Alexander's desolate heart, sorrow must come: sorrow for sin, for his disobedience to the parents whom he had made unhappy; for his reckless, godless life; for all the teachings of his youth forgotten, and for its lessons neglected. Sometimes, for a few minutes, Alexander would turn his eyes from his eager watch over the sea, and looking down, would picture instead his Scottish home. He would see clearly in his mind his venerable father, with his furrowed brow, and stern, unsmiling mouth; his mother, in her tall white cap, busied at her wheel, with a far-away, mournful look in her eyes, which told that she was thinking of her absent son. Ah! and he saw again even his poor idiot brother, to whom he had only used harsh words, and even rough blows. "I would be so different now if it should please God ever to let me see home and my dear ones again," he thought. And so has many a poor prodigal thought as he has been compelled to suffer the punishment for his sins, and found no way to escape from it.

Little by little, there grew up in his heart the purpose of beginning even now this new life. He would not wait till his return to England. In this lonely island, with half the world between him and all he loved, he would strive to be one with them in heart, and to join with them in prayer and praise. He would seek pardon for the sins of his youth for the Saviour's sake, and in His strength, begin life anew. He had a Bible with him in his chest, and he began to read it daily, and in earnest prayer to seek forgiveness and blessing; then, even in his loneliness, comfort came to him. He was no longer alone, for God was with him. He knew that God was his Father, his Helper, and his Keeper, and he grew calm, almost happy, and was even able sometimes to leave his look-out over the sea, and make little journeys into the interior of his new kingdom.

As his mind became more peaceful, he turned his thoughts to the question of a shelter from the storms of the approaching winter, which, even in that mild climate, was often accompanied with frost and snow. There were plenty of trees on the island, and with their stems and branches he soon built for himself a rough hut, which he thatched with long grass cut and dried in the sun. This attempt was so successful that he determined to build another hut at a short distance, so that he might sleep in one, and in the other, prepare his food. Now that he had once looked in the face the thought of spending the winter in the island, he grew, slowly, more reconciled to it, and began to take an interest in preparing, as far as he could, for its approach.

His huts must be furnished in some fashion; first, he brought up from the shore his sea-chest, which contained his few clothes; then he cut and fastened up a shelf on which to keep his Bible and the other books which he had brought on shore. He had with him a large cooking-pot in which to prepare his food, and a smaller drinking-can which he had brought, most likely, from home, and which bore the old-fashioned inscription, "Alexander Selkirk, this is my one." It was needful to make for himself a bed, for hitherto he had slept on the beach, so that at the first moment of opening his eyes he might begin his watch over the sea: now he must sleep in his hut.

This bed he determined to make of the skins of goats, for he had begun to hunt the wild goats for food, having by this time wearied of his diet of fish. At first he was able only to overtake and capture the young kids, for he had no gun, no bow and arrow with which to kill them at a distance; then as exercise and practice increased his strength, he found himself able to pursue and take the largest and swiftest goats, and having killed them, to carry them on his shoulders to his hut. But as goat's flesh, his principal food, could only be obtained by him while he remained in full strength and vigor, he determined to provide a store in case of illness or accident, and so, catching several young kids, he slightly lamed them, so that they could move but slowly, and then trained them to feed around his hut, and these gentle creatures, who soon learned to know him, brought some sense of companionship to the lonely man.

His life began now to have its regular duties and interests. In the morning when he rose, he sang one of the old Scotch psalms, after the practice which he had been taught from childhood, and then read aloud a chapter of the Bible, and prayed long and fervently.

Then he betook himself to light a fire by rubbing together two dry sticks till a flame was produced, and this fire he fed from time to time with branches and logs from the woods. He had also, his food to obtain and to cook--goat's flesh or cray-fish, which he boiled in his large sauce-pan; and to gather the tender tops of the cabbage-palm or other vegetables, for bread. These necessary employments finished, he would take his Bible, and, sitting in the door of his hut, or on the beach, would study it for hours, finding new truths and deeper meaning in the blessed words familiar to him from his childhood. Or he would choose one of his books on navigation, and study with a care which he had never before thought it worth while to give, hoping in this way to be a better sailor, and be able to take higher rank in the service, if it should please God to restore him once more to the duties and work of life. In this regular, peaceful, and religious life his spirits gradually recovered; nay, he became far happier than he had been since his childhood, for something of the trust and the love of a little child were restored to his heart.

He would adorn his hut with fragrant boughs, and as he fed and caressed his kids, would sing with a light heart the songs of old Scotland. Then at set of sun he returned to the hut in which he slept, and there once more sang, and read, and prayed, and so lay down to sleep in peace, because he knew that it was the Lord only that made him dwell in safety.

"I was a better Christian in my solitude than ever I was before, or than I fear I shall ever be again," he said, years after he had left the island. In this there was both truth and error. He had been led by the merciful goodness of God to repentance and to an earnest desire to escape from sin, but it was in the life among his fellows that this repentance and these new resolves--must be tested. It was in the daily little trials and crosses of a life among other men, that he must learn to subdue his proud spirit, and curb his hot temper.

Months and even years passed on, and but little happened to vary Alexander's quiet life in his island home. He had now a large number of kids around his hut, and had added to his list of favorites several tamed cats, which he needed to protect him from the troop of rats which gnawed his bed-clothes, and even nibbled at his feet as he lay asleep. He had taught the kids and cats, too, to dance, and many a merry hour he spent among these his daily companions and friends. The clothes which he had brought on shore had been long since worn out, and he had supplied their place by a cap, and trousers, and jacket, made of goat-skin. His needle was a nail, and his thread thin strips of the skin; among his stores was a piece of linen, and this too he had sewn into shirts, unravelling one of his stockings for a supply of thread. He was barefoot, and the soles of his feet had grown so hard that he could climb sharp crags, and run over the stony beach, unhurt.

Twice or thrice during these lonely years he had seen a sail approaching, but on these he looked with as much terror as hope, for should the crew prove to be Spaniards, he knew that he should be made a prisoner by them, and either put to death, or sent into hopeless slavery.

Once, indeed, the crew of a Spanish vessel, putting in for water, had caught sight of the strange figure in the goat-skin dress, and had chased him, but so swift-footed was he that he soon left his pursuers far behind, and then lay hid in terror for hours, till the vessel had departed. His life had been besides in other danger, for once while pursuing the hunt from crag to crag, in wild and delightful adventure, he had set foot on the hidden edge of a precipice: the grass which seemed to promise so fair a footing gave way beneath his feet, he fell headlong, and lay hurt and senseless below. He judged by the size of the moon, when at last he opened his eyes to consciousness, that he must have been lying stunned and helpless for more than twenty-four hours, and it was with the greatest pain and difficulty that he could drag himself to his hut, and lie down on his bed of skins. His tame favorites came about him but none of them could help him, and he was too weak to care to procure for himself food or water. But even in his great distress he did not lose his confidence in God, and he lay calm and patient, satisfied that he was safe in the care of his Heavenly Father. After many days of suffering he recovered and once more enjoyed full health and vigor.

He had been alone on Juan Fernandez for more than four years when one evening, looking out seaward before lying down in his hut, he saw the sails of an English-built vessel which was standing in very near to the shore. Alexander could not resist the sudden and strong desire which he felt, to be once more among his fellow-men, to hear once more the English speech, and feel once more the grasp of a friendly hand. Hurrying down to the beach, he piled and lighted a large bonfire, to carry a message to his fellow-countrymen, but the ship, instead of sailing shoreward, or of putting off a boat at once, tacked and went farther from the island, taking the fire to be the lights of an enemy's ship at anchor in the bay.

Alexander spent the night in hope and in doubt: he killed some goats and prepared them for food, hoping the next day to entertain some of his countrymen in his island home, and at the first dawn of day he was again on the beach, gazing at the now distant but motionless ship.

Those on board were also keeping an anxious watch, but when morning light showed them that there was no other ship near, the captain determined to send a boat on shore to discover the cause of the strange light which they had seen the night before. As they approached the island they saw a strange figure running to meet them, and by gestures and shouts pointing out the best place for landing. Alexander, with his long beard, his tanned complexion, his goat-skin dress, had lost almost all outward resemblance to a civilized man, and they wondered much who this friendly and solitary savage might be.

But who can describe his joy when he heard once more the speech of his own country, and looked on the faces of his kind. He welcomed his visitors in the best English he could remember, for even his speech was half forgotten, and led them to his hut to partake of the banquet he had prepared.

Yet in the midst of all his joy he could hardly determine to leave his beloved island, so accustomed had he grown to solitude, and to his wild, uncontrolled life. At length the remembrance of his aged parents, and of his friends at home, made him determine to ask a passage in the ship which had touched on his island shore, and the captain, finding how much he had learnt of seamanship and navigation, offered to rate him as mate. And thus Juan Fernandez was left once more in utter solitude, and Selkirk, gazing from the ship's deck, saw its green hills and pleasant coasts disappear in the distance, as he left the island and all its sad, its sacred, its happy memories forever. He soon grew tired of the society of men, and when not busy about the ship, would always seek to be alone, dreaming of the life which he had left. He found it hard, too, to accustom himself to the salt meat and biscuits which were sailors' fare, and to the dress and boots in which he must now appear. Soon every other thought was lost in his longing desire to see once more his parents and his home, for the shores of England were in sight. It was on a Sunday morning that the wanderer entered once more his native village, where all seemed quiet and unchanged. He did not turn his steps to his father's cottage, for his parents, as he well knew, would be at the kirk, and there would he look on their faces once more. Would they recognize, he asked himself, in the strong and bearded man, the youth who had left them years ago for the life of adventure which he loved best? Would they know the fine gentleman in gold lace and embroidery to be their son Alexander, their lost sailor lad. Pondering such thoughts as these, he walked on almost unconsciously. How well he knew every step of his way! In this farmhouse, his sister and her husband used to live; there was the wood where he had so often gathered nuts, or climbed for birds' nests with his boyish companions; there, its thatched roof more lichen-covered than of old, stood his father's cottage, at the door of which years ago he had kissed his mother for the last time--ah! was she still alive to welcome the returning wanderer?

Seated in the kirk among unfamiliar faces, his eyes sought at once the well-known corner where, as a boy, he had been used to sit, and with an almost overwhelming rush of thankfulness and joy he saw once more his mother's face, the same, yet changed, its added wrinkles and silvered hair telling, perhaps, of many tears and long sorrow for her lost sailor son.

There sat his father, too, the portly, respectable-looking elder, in blue cap and coat of homespun tweed. In vain did Alexander seek to join in the psalm or prayer, his looks and thoughts were ever wandering; and he was not alone in this, for the dark eyes of his old mother turned continually with an eager, inquiring gaze to the grand stranger gentleman, strange yet so familiar. Then her eyes were cast down once more on her book, as she tried to give heed to the service, till at last a sudden smile which lit up Alexander's face, showed her that she saw before her the son for whom she had longed and prayed, whom no doubt she had before this counted as among the dead. In her sudden joy the old woman forgot all else, and rising, rushed towards the place where the returned wanderer was seated.

The whole family, with Alexander in their midst, now made their way out of the kirk, and returned home to talk of the great deliverance which God had given to their lost kinsman.

On this true story of Selkirk was founded the tale of the Adventures of Robinson Crusoe.

CAPTAIN COOK'S LAST VOYAGE.

The discovery of a supposed north-west passage from the North Atlantic to the North Pacific Oceans, had for many years been ardently sought for, both by the English and the Dutch. Frobisher, in 1576, made the first attempt, and his example was in succeeding times followed by many others. But though much geographical information had been gained in the neighborhood of Hudson's Bay, Davis' Strait, Baffin's Bay, and the coast of Greenland, yet no channel whatever was found. By act of parliament, £20,000 was offered to the successful individual. But though Captain Middleton, in 1741, and Captains Smith and Moore, in 1746, explored those seas and regions, the object remained unattained. The Honorable Captain Phipps (afterwards Earl Mulgrave) was sent out in the _Racehorse_, accompanied by Captain Lutwidge, in the _Carcase_ (Lord Nelson was a boy in this latter ship), to make observations, and to penetrate as far as it was practicable to do so. They sailed June 2, 1773, and made Spitzbergen on the 28th; but after great exertions, they found the ice to the northward utterly impenetrable. Once they became closely jammed, and it was only with great difficulty they escaped destruction. On August 22, finding it impossible to get further to the northward, eastward, or westward, they made sail, according to their instructions, for England, and arrived off Shetland on September 7.

Notwithstanding these numerous failures, the idea of an existing passage was still cherished; and Earl Sandwich continuing at the head of the Admiralty, resolved that a further trial should be made, and Captain Cook offered his services to undertake it. They were gladly accepted, and on February 10, 1776, he was appointed to command the expedition in his old, but hardy ship, the _Resolution_, and Captain Clerke, in the _Discovery_, was ordered to attend him. In this instance, however, the mode of experiment was to be reversed, and instead of attempting the former routes by Davis' Strait or Baffin's Bay, etc., Cook, at his own request, was instructed to proceed into the South Pacific, and thence to try the passage by the way of Behring's Strait; and as it was necessary that the islands in the Southern Ocean should be revisited, cattle and sheep, with other animals, and all kinds of seeds, were shipped for the advantage of the natives.

Every preparation having been made, the _Resolution_ quitted Plymouth on July 12, taking Omai, the native, from the Society Isles. Having touched at Teneriffe, they crossed the equator September 1, and reached the Cape on October 18, where the _Discovery_ joined them on November 10.

The ships sailed again on November 30, and encountered heavy gales, in which several sheep and goats died. On December 12 they saw two large islands, which Cook named Prince Edward's Islands; and three days afterwards several others were seen; but having made Kerguelen's Land, they anchored in a convenient harbor on Christmas day. On the north side of this harbor one of the men found a quart bottle fastened to a projecting rock by stout wire, and on opening it, the bottle was found to contain a piece of parchment, on which was an inscription purporting that the land had been visited by a French vessel in 1772-3. To this Cook added a notice of his own visit; the parchment was then returned to the bottle, and the cork being secured with lead, was placed upon a pile of stones near to the place from which it had been removed. The whole country was extremely barren and desolate, and on the 30th they came to the eastern extremity of Kerguelen's Land.

On January 24, 1777, they came in sight of Van Diemen's Land (now Tasmania), and on the 26th anchored in Adventure Bay, where intercourse was opened with the natives, and Omai took every opportunity of lauding the great superiority of his friends, the English. Here they obtained plenty of grass for the remaining cattle, and a supply of fresh provisions for themselves. On the 30th they quitted their port, convinced that Van Diemen's Land was the southern point of New Holland. Subsequent investigations, however, have proved this idea to be erroneous, Van Diemen's Land being an island separated from the mainland of Australia by Bass's Strait.

On February 12, Captain Cook anchored at his old station in Queen Charlotte's Sound, New Zealand; but the natives were very shy in approaching the ships, and none could be persuaded to come on board. The reason was, that on the former voyages, after parting with the _Resolution_, the _Adventure_ had visited this place, and ten of her crew had been killed in an unpremeditated skirmish with the natives. It was the fear of retaliatory punishment that kept them aloof. Captain Cook, however, soon made them easy upon the subject, and their familiarity was renewed; but great caution was used, to be fully prepared for a similar attack, by keeping the men well-armed on all occasions. Of the animals left at this island in the former voyages, many were thriving; and the gardens, though left in a state of nature, were found to contain cabbages, onions, leeks, radishes, mustard, and a few potatoes. The captain was enabled to add to both. At the solicitation of Omai, he received two New Zealand lads on board the _Resolution_, and by the 27th was clear of the coast.

After landing at a number of islands, and not finding adequate supplies, the ships sailed for Anamocka, and the _Resolution_ was brought up in exactly the same anchorage that she had occupied three years before. The natives behaved in a most friendly manner, and but for their habits of stealing, quiet would have been uninterrupted. Nothing, however, could check this propensity, till Captain Cook shaved the heads of all whom he caught practicing it. This rendered them an object of ridicule to their countrymen, and enabled the English to recognize and keep them at a distance. Most of the Friendly Isles were visited by the ships, and everywhere they met with a kind reception. On June 10 they reached Tongataboo, where the King offered Captain Cook his house to reside in. Here he made a distribution of animals amongst the chiefs, and the importance of preserving them was explained by Omai. Two kids and two turkey-cocks having been stolen, the captain seized three canoes, put a guard over the chiefs, and insisted that not only the kids and turkeys should be restored, but also everything that had been taken away since their arrival. This produced a good effect, and much of the plunder was returned.

Captain Cook remained at the Friendly Islands nearly three months, and lived almost entirely during that period upon fresh provisions, occasionally eating the produce of the seeds he had sown there in his former visits. On July 17, they took their final leave of these hospitable people, and on August 12 reached Otaheite, and took up a berth in Oaiti-piha Bay, which, it was discovered, had been visited by two Spanish ships since the _Resolution_ had last been there.

Animals of various kinds had been left in the country by the Spaniards, and the islanders spoke of them with esteem and respect. On the 24th the ships went round to Matavai Bay, and Captain Cook presented to the king, Otoo, the remainder of his live stock.

They here witnessed a human sacrifice, to propitiate the favor of their gods in a battle they were about to undertake. The victim was generally some strolling vagabond, who was not aware of his fate till the moment arrived, and he received his death-blow from a club. For the purpose of showing the inhabitants the use of the horses, Captains Cook and Clerke rode into the country, to the great astonishment of the islanders; and though this exercise was continued every day by some of the _Resolution's_ people, yet the wonder of the natives never abated.

On the return of Omai to the land of his birth, the reception he met with was not very cordial; but the affection of his relatives was strong and ardent. Captain Cook obtained the grant of a piece of land for him on the west side of Owharre harbor, Huaheine. The carpenters of the ships built him a small house, to which a garden was attached, planted with shaddocks, vines, pineapples, melons, etc., and a variety of vegetables, the whole of which were thriving before Captain Cook quitted the island. When the house was finished, the presents Omai had received in England were carried ashore, with every article necessary for domestic purposes, as well as two muskets, a bayonet, a brace of pistols, etc.

The two lads brought from New Zealand were put on shore at this place, to form part of Omai's family; but it was with great reluctance that they quitted the voyagers, who had behaved so kindly to them.