same search, but dropped exhausted after a
short time. When I recovered I was lying
by the side of a little stream of fresh water
which trickled from a rock, and Mr. Loring
was bathing my face with the water and
pouring it down my throat from the hollow
of his hand. I strove to thank him, but at
that moment a wild cry broke on the air,
and he started to his feet without leaving me
time to speak. The island on which we were
was flat to the sea-beach and I could, upon
raising myself to a sitting position, discern
the group of my late companions fighting
savagely over some prize. The poor, famished
wretches had discovered food, and like wild
beasts were struggling for their shares.
After a time the contest came to an end;
apparently more food was discovered; and
there was enough for all. I saw Mr. Loring,
who had left me, join the group and claim
a share. O how vainly I longed for strength
to reach them; the agony of hunger had
revived by the water I had drunk, and I
struggled to my feet and screamed in helpless
misery for food. I had advanced but a
few steps when Mr. Loring began to retrace
his way. What the meat was, which he
brought at that time, I never asked. I ate
voraciously. I afterwards learnt it was that
of large crabs; a fish in which the island
abounded. I was so selfish that I never
asked Mr. Loring if he had satisfied his own
hunger; but he must have been more than
mortal if he had not done so on his road to
me, holding that raw crab's meat in his
hands;—the most delicious thing, it seemed
to me, that I had ever tasted.

After that, all seemed to go smoothly: the
men hauled the boat up on the beach and
turned her almost bottom upwards as a
shelter from the sun; her edge being
supported by some pieces of rock, so that we had
to creep underneath, on all-fours, when we
wished to enter this improvised dwelling-house.
At night this house was appropriated
to me by the arrangement of Mr. Loring. I
remember the men opposed this at first,
especially one of them, whose name was
Watson; but Mr. Loring knocked him down
by way of argument, and I think his logic
was convincing for the time. Now, for the
first time the difficulty and the strangeness
of my situation burst upon me. I was
conscious every moment of being a burden
upon my companions, and determined
violently to exert myself to help instead of
embarrassing. Next day, seeing several of
the men collecting crabs upon the beach, I
advanced, and asked if I could not assist.

"Bless your heart," answered one of them
who happened to be Watson, "them little
'ands of yourn ain't fit for carrying these great,
thundering things. No, my pretty, thank
ye; go and light us a fire to cook 'em by, if
you can, and we'll be obliged to you."

I was indignant at the man's freedom of
manner; but I hastened to collect the sticks.
There was no wood within some distance of
the beach, and my bare feet were unaccustomed
to rough usage. I could have cried
with the pain before I had reached the copse,
which seemed to grow more distant as I
advanced towards it. It took me some hours
to collect sticks sufficient, and it was as much
as I could do to carry them back to the
spot where the boat was placed. As I thus
walked, with my feet aching and myself bent
with the weight of the faggots I had
collected, all at once the remembrance of
other days shot across me in that unaccountable
way in which incongruous ideas will
sometimes present themselves. I remembered
a farewell dance which had been given by my
uncle and aunt before I left England, and my
own figure reflected in a mirror dressed in
white tarlatan, and my feet in white satin
shoes with rosettes of ribbon on them. When
I had deposited my burden of sticks I sat
down and laid the fire. This was easily done;
but how to light it? I had read of savages
rubbing sticks together; besides, in all
Crusoe's stories, that is a plan which succeeds
admirably; but I rubbed the sticks together
until my wrists ached, without producing
any sparks. Perhaps the wood was not
sufficiently dry, or I did not understand the
method. I felt hopeless and despondent, but
having resolved to be energetic, I was
still seeking for some more promising-looking
pieces of wood when I was joined by the
chaplain, an elderly man, whose name was
Hart, and Mr. Loring. They were both laden
with crabs. I turned to the clergyman for
assistance; and he, with more adroitness than
I possessed, succeeded in setting light to the
pile of faggots, and placing the crabs to
roast.

Many days thus passed in the dreariest
monotony. Occasionally, I could hear angry
expostulations going on amongst the men,
and proposals made which were opposed by
Mr. Loring; but I did not ask him what it
meant; for, of late, I was more uncomfortable
than I can tell in Mr. Loring's presence. I
could not help thinking of the pain I had
once so unflinchingly given him, who had
been so kind to me. At length I knew the
reason of all these altercations; the men no
longer hesitated to speak in my presence;
they declared their intention of taking the
boat and leaving the island in search of one
less desolate. Mr. Loring vainly strove to
dissuade them. Our temporary house was
righted to its true position, and provisioned
with quantities of baked crab's meat and
water contained in empty crab's-shells (our
only vessels), and the men prepared to put off.

I stood watching them from the shore, when
suddenly Watson advanced; and, throwing his
arms round me, lifted me from the ground
and commenced carrying me towards the
boat. In vain I struggled and shrieked. His
arms felt like bands of iron; when all at once
his hold relaxed, and he and I both fell.