Daniel Defoe - Robinson Crusoe. The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe Robinson Crusoe read full large print
Daniel Defoe's novel Robinson Crusoe was first published in April 1719. The work gave rise to the development of the classic English novel, made popular the pseudo-documentary direction of fiction.
The plot of "The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe" is based on the true story of boatswain Alexander Selkir, who lived on a desert island for four years. Defoe rewrote the book many times, giving its final version a philosophical meaning - the story of Robinson became an allegorical depiction of human life as such.
Main characters
Robinson Crusoe- the main character of the work, raving about sea adventures. Spent 28 years on a desert island.
Friday- a savage who was rescued by Robinson. Crusoe taught him English and took him with him.
Other characters
Captain of the ship- Robinson saved him from captivity and helped return the ship, for which the captain took Crusoe home.
Xuri- a boy, a prisoner of Turkish robbers, with whom Robinson fled from pirates.
Chapter 1
From early childhood, Robinson loved the sea more than anything in the world, dreamed of long voyages. The boy's parents did not like this very much, as they wanted a more peaceful happy life for his son. His father wanted him to become an important official.
However, the craving for adventure was stronger, so on September 1, 1651, Robinson, who at that time was eighteen years old, without asking permission from his parents, and a friend boarded a ship from Hull to London.
Chapter 2
On the first day, the ship was caught in a severe storm. Robinson was ill and scared from the strong pitching. He swore a thousand times that if everything worked out, he would return to his father and never again swim in the sea. However, the ensuing calm and a glass of punch helped Robinson quickly forget about all "good intentions".
The sailors were confident in the reliability of their ship, so they spent all their days in entertainment. On the ninth day of the voyage, a terrible storm broke out in the morning, the ship began to leak. A passing ship threw a boat to them and by evening they managed to escape. Robinson was ashamed to return home, so he decided to set sail again.
Chapter 3
In London, Robinson met the venerable old captain. A new acquaintance invited Crusoe to go with him to Guinea. During the journey, the captain taught Robinson shipbuilding, which was very useful to the hero in the future. In Guinea, Crusoe managed to profitably exchange the brought trinkets for gold dust.
After the death of the captain, Robinson again went to Africa. This time the journey was less successful, on the way their ship was attacked by pirates - Turks from Saleh. Robinson was captured by the captain of a robber ship, where he stayed for almost three years. Finally, he had a chance to escape - the robber sent Crusoe, the boy Xuri and the Moor to fish in the sea. Robinson took with him everything necessary for a long voyage and on the way threw the Moor into the sea.
Robinson was on his way to Cape Zeleny, hoping to meet a European ship.
Chapter 4
After many days of sailing, Robinson had to go ashore and ask the savages for food. The man thanked them by killing a leopard with a gun. The savages gave him the skin of the animal.
Soon the travelers met a Portuguese ship. On it, Robinson got to Brazil.
Chapter 5
The captain of the Portuguese ship kept Xuri with him, promising to make him a sailor. Robinson lived in Brazil for four years, growing sugarcane and producing sugar. Somehow familiar merchants offered Robinson to make a trip to Guinea again.
"In an unkind hour" - September 1, 1659, he stepped on the deck of the ship. "It was the same day on which eight years ago I ran away from my father's house and so madly ruined my youth."
On the twelfth day, a strong squall hit the ship. The bad weather lasted twelve days, their ship sailed wherever the waves drove it. When the ship ran aground, the sailors had to transfer to the boat. However, after four miles, the "furious shaft" overturned their ship.
Robinson was washed ashore by the wave. He was the only one from the crew left alive. The hero spent the night on a tall tree.
Chapter 6
In the morning, Robinson saw that their ship was washed closer to the shore. Using spare masts, topmasts and yardarms, the hero made a raft, on which he transported boards, chests, food supplies, a box of carpentry tools, weapons, gunpowder and other necessary things to the shore.
Returning to land, Robinson realized that he was on a desert island. He built himself a tent of sail and poles, surrounding it with empty boxes and chests to protect against wild animals. Every day Robinson sailed to the ship, taking things he might need. Crusoe first wanted to throw away the money he found, but then, after thinking, he left it. After Robinson visited the ship for the twelfth time, a storm swept the ship out to sea.
Crusoe soon found a comfortable place to live - in a small smooth clearing on the slope of a high hill. Here the hero set up a tent, surrounding it with a fence of high stakes, which could only be overcome with the help of a ladder.
Chapter 7
Behind the tent, Robinson dug a cave in the hill that served as his cellar. Once, during a severe thunderstorm, the hero was afraid that one lightning strike could destroy all his gunpowder and after that he spread it into different bags and stored it separately. Robinson discovers that there are goats on the island and began to hunt them.
Chapter 8
In order not to lose track of time, Crusoe created an imitated calendar - he drove a large log into the sand, on which he marked the days with notches. Together with things, the hero from the ship transported two cats and a dog that lived with him.
Among other things, Robinson found ink and paper and took notes for a while. “Sometimes despair attacked me, I experienced mortal anguish, in order to overcome these bitter feelings, I took up a pen and tried to prove to myself that there was still a lot of good in my distress.”
Over time, Crusoe dug a back door in the hill, made furniture for himself.
Chapter 9
From September 30, 1659, Robinson kept a diary, describing everything that happened to him on the island after the shipwreck, his fears and experiences.
For digging the cellar, the hero made a shovel out of "iron" wood. One day in his "cellar" there was a collapse, and Robinson began to firmly strengthen the walls and ceiling of the recess.
Crusoe soon managed to tame the goat. While wandering around the island, the hero discovered wild pigeons. He tried to tame them, but as soon as the wings got stronger, the chicks flew away. From goat fat, Robinson made a lamp, which, unfortunately, burned very dimly.
After the rains, Crusoe found seedlings of barley and rice (when shaking bird food on the ground, he thought that all the grains had been eaten by rats). The hero carefully harvested the crop, deciding to leave it for sowing. It wasn't until his fourth year that he could afford to separate some of the grain for food.
After a strong earthquake, Robinson realizes that he needs to find another place to live, away from the cliff.
Chapter 10
The wreckage of the ship washed up on the island in waves, Robinson gained access to its hold. On the shore, the hero found a large turtle, whose meat replenished his diet.
With the onset of rains, Crusoe fell ill and developed a severe fever. Managed to recover tobacco tincture with rum.
Exploring the island, the hero finds sugar cane, melons, wild lemons, grapes. He dried the latter in the sun in order to harvest raisins for future use. In a blooming green valley, Robinson arranges for himself a second home - a "cottage in the forest". Soon one of the cats brought three kittens.
Robinson learned to accurately divide the seasons into rainy and dry. During rainy periods, he tried to stay at home.
Chapter 11
In one of the rainy periods, Robinson learned to weave baskets, which he really lacked. Crusoe decided to explore the entire island and found a strip of land on the horizon. He realized that this is part South America, where wild cannibals probably live and was glad that he ended up on a desert island. Along the way, Crusoe caught a young parrot, which he later taught to say some words. There were many turtles and birds on the island, even penguins were found here.
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Robinson obtained good pottery clay, from which he made dishes and dried them in the sun. Once the hero discovered that pots can be burned in fire - this was a pleasant discovery for him, since now he could store water in the dishes and cook food in it.
To bake bread, Robinson made a wooden mortar and an impromptu oven from clay tablets. Thus passed his third year on the island.
Chapter 14
All this time, Robinson did not leave the thought of the land, which he saw from the shore. The hero decides to fix the boat, which was thrown ashore during the shipwreck. The updated boat sank to the bottom, but he could not launch it into the water. Then Robinson began to make pies from the trunk of a cedar tree. He managed to make an excellent boat, however, like a boat, he could not lower it to the water.
The fourth year of Crusoe's stay on the island has ended. He ran out of ink, his clothes were worn out. Robinson sewed three jackets from sailor pea coats, a hat, jacket and trousers from the skins of dead animals, made an umbrella from the sun and rain.
Chapter 15
Robinson built a small boat to go around the island by sea. Going around the underwater rocks, Crusoe sailed far from the coast and fell into the jet of the sea current, which carried him farther and farther. However, the current soon weakened and Robinson managed to return to the island, for which he was infinitely glad.
Chapter 16
In the eleventh year of Robinson's stay on the island, his supplies of gunpowder began to run low. Not wanting to give up meat, the hero decided to come up with a way to catch wild goats alive. With the help of "wolf pits" Crusoe managed to catch an old goat and three kids. From then on, he began to raise goats.
“I lived like a real king, needing nothing; beside me there was always a whole staff of courtiers [tamed animals] devoted to me - there were not only people.
Chapter 17
Once Robinson found a trace of a human foot on the shore. “In terrible anxiety, not feeling the ground under my feet, I hastened home to my fortress.” Crusoe hid at home and spent the whole night thinking about how a man ended up on the island. Reassuring himself, Robinson even began to think that it was his own footprint. However, when he returned to the same place, he saw that the footprint was much larger than his foot.
In fear, Crusoe wanted to dissolve all the cattle and dig up both fields, but then he calmed down and changed his mind. Robinson realized that savages came to the island only occasionally, so it was important for him to simply not catch their eye. For added security, Crusoe drove stakes into the gaps between the previously densely planted trees, thus creating a second wall around his dwelling. He planted the entire area behind the outer wall with trees that looked like willows. Two years later, a grove turned green around his house.
Chapter 18
Two years later, on the western part of the island, Robinson discovered that savages regularly sail here and arrange cruel feasts, eating people. Fearing that he might be discovered, Crusoe tried not to shoot, began to make fire with care, acquired charcoal, which almost does not produce smoke when burned.
Looking for coal, Robinson found a vast grotto, which he made his new pantry. "It was already the twenty-third year of my stay on the island."
Chapter 19
One day in December, leaving the house at dawn, Robinson noticed a fire on the shore - the savages staged a bloody feast. Watching the cannibals from the telescope, he saw that with the tide they sailed from the island.
Fifteen months later, a ship sailed near the island. Robinson burned a fire all night, but in the morning he discovered that the ship was wrecked.
Chapter 20
Robinson went by boat to the wrecked ship, where he found a dog, gunpowder and some necessary things.
Crusoe lived for two more years "in complete contentment, not knowing hardship." “But all these two years I have only thought about how I could leave my island.” Robinson decided to save one of those whom the cannibals brought to the island as a victim in order to escape together to freedom. However, the savages reappeared only after a year and a half.
Chapter 21
Six Indian pirogues landed on the island. The savages brought with them two captives. While they were engaged in the first, the second rushed to run away. Three people were chasing the fugitive, Robinson shot two with a gun, the third was killed by the escaping himself with a saber. Crusoe beckoned the frightened fugitive to him with signs.
Robinson took the savage to the grotto and fed him. “He was a good-looking young man, tall, well-built, his arms and legs were muscular, strong and at the same time extremely graceful; He looked to be about twenty-six years old. The savage showed Robinson with all possible signs that from that day on he would serve him all his life.
Crusoe began to gradually teach him the right words. First of all, he said that he would call him Friday (in memory of the day on which he saved his life), taught him the words "yes" and "no". The savage offered to eat the dead enemies, but Crusoe showed that he was terribly angry with this desire of his.
Friday became a real comrade for Robinson - "never a single person had such a loving, such a faithful and devoted friend."
Chapter 22
Robinson took Friday with him to hunt as an assistant, taught the savage to eat animal meat. Friday started helping Crusoe with the housework. When the savage learned the basics of the English language, he told Robinson about his tribe. The Indians, from whom he managed to escape, defeated Friday's native tribe.
Crusoe asked his friend about the surrounding lands and their inhabitants - the peoples who live on neighboring islands. As it turned out, the neighboring land is the island of Trinidad, where wild Carib tribes live. The savage explained that the "white people" could be reached on a large boat, which gave Crusoe hope.
Chapter 23
Robinson taught Friday how to shoot a gun. When the savage mastered English well, Crusoe shared his story with him.
Friday said that once a ship with "white people" crashed near their island. They were rescued by the natives and stayed on the island, becoming "brothers" for the savages.
Crusoe begins to suspect Friday of wanting to escape the island, but the native proves his loyalty to Robinson. The Savage himself offers to help Crusoe return home. The men made a pirogue from a tree trunk in a month. Crusoe set up a mast with a sail in the boat.
"The twenty-seventh year of my imprisonment in this prison has come."
Chapter 24
Having waited out the rainy season, Robinson and Friday began to prepare for the upcoming voyage. One day, savages moored to the shore with regular captives. Robinson and Friday dealt with the cannibals. The rescued captives were a Spaniard and Friday's father.
Especially for the weakened European and the savage father, the men built a canvas tent.
Chapter 25
The Spaniard said that the savages sheltered seventeen Spaniards, whose ship was wrecked off a neighboring island, but those who were rescued were in dire need. Robinson agrees with the Spaniard that his comrades will help him with the construction of the ship.
The men prepared all the necessary supplies for the "white people", and the Spaniard and Friday's father went after the Europeans. While Crusoe and Friday were waiting for the guests, an English ship approached the island. The British moored ashore on a boat, Crusoe counted eleven people, three of whom were prisoners.
Chapter 26
The boat of the robbers ran aground at low tide, so the sailors went for a walk around the island. At this time, Robinson was preparing guns. At night, when the sailors fell asleep, Crusoe approached their captives. One of them, the captain of the ship, said that his crew rebelled and went over to the side of the “gang of villains”. He and two of his comrades barely convinced the robbers not to kill them, but to land them on a deserted shore. Crusoe and Friday helped kill the instigators of the riot, and the rest of the sailors were tied up.
Chapter 27
To capture the ship, the men broke through the bottom of the longboat and prepared to meet the next boat with the robbers. The pirates, seeing the hole in the ship and the fact that their comrades were gone, were frightened and were about to return to the ship. Then Robinson came up with a trick - Friday and the assistant captain lured eight pirates deep into the island. The two robbers who remained waiting for their comrades surrendered unconditionally. At night, the captain kills the boatswain who understands the rebellion. Five robbers surrender.
Chapter 28
Robinson orders to put the rebels in the dungeon and take the ship with the help of the sailors who sided with the captain. At night, the crew swam to the ship, and the sailors defeated the robbers who were on it. In the morning, the captain sincerely thanked Robinson for helping to return the ship.
By order of Crusoe, the rebels were unleashed and sent inland. Robinson promised that they would be left with everything they needed to live on the island.
“As I subsequently established from the ship's log, my departure took place on December 19, 1686. Thus, I lived on the island for twenty-eight years, two months and nineteen days.
Soon Robinson returned to his homeland. By the time his parents had died, he was met at home by his sisters with children and other relatives. Everyone listened with great enthusiasm to the incredible story of Robinson, which he told from morning until evening.
Conclusion
The novel by D. Defoe "The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe" had a huge impact on world literature, laying the foundation for a whole literary genre - "robinsonade" (adventure works describing the life of people on uninhabited lands). The novel was a real discovery in the culture of the Enlightenment. Defoe's book has been translated into many languages and filmed more than twenty times. The proposed brief retelling of "Robinson Crusoe" chapter by chapter will be useful to schoolchildren, as well as to anyone who wants to get acquainted with the plot of a famous work.
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CHILDREN'S ILLUSTRATED CLASSICS
Retold by Leonid Yakhnin
Drawings by Leonid Tskhe
© Yakhnin L.L., heritage, abridged retelling, 2019
© Tskhe L.Yu., ill., 2019
© AST Publishing House LLC, 2019
Chapter first
Crash
Under the low black sky, purple mountains moved in a menacing succession. Ridden with flashes of lightning, they suddenly lit up from the inside with a green light. Their foamy tops hissed like a snake. These lilac-emerald boulders bent predatorily and instantly collapsed with a glassy clang. In this roar, hiss and roar drowned the pops of torn sails, the crack of breaking mains and foremasts, the groans and cries of dying sailors.
The helpless ship was pecking at the boiling water with a tiny diving duck. The sea swallowed its prey, grinding it with the dragon teeth of the reefs.
- Launch the boat! the captain shouted.
The sailors rushed to starboard. At that moment, the ship was thrown onto a reef. The lifeboat attached to the side creaked and burst like a nutshell. Panicked people rushed across the tilted deck.
Fortunately, the second boat, hovering over the raging elements at the port side, remained unscathed. To cut the lines and lower the boat into the arms of the raging waves was a matter of minutes for hands accustomed to sea work. The sailors threw oars at her and jumped one after the other. But now they were in the full power of the ruthless elements. The boat was lifted onto the crest of a giant wave and plunged into a roaring abyss. The next wave threw her up again and, breaking the oars, turned her over. People were instantly pulled apart. Here and there flashed hands raised to the sky, a head with a gaping mouth in a soundless cry, a limp body spinning in a whirlpool of water.
Soon it was all over. The raging sea played carelessly with fragments of masts, fragments of sails, empty barrels, split boards, throwing them from wave to wave and gradually driving them to the rocky shore. And there, around the sharp rocks, whirling streams of water curled and reared, like unbroken horses with foamy manes. From the misty cloud of spray from boulder to boulder, steeply curved rainbows rose like bridges.
The sea swallowed up its prey and gradually calmed down. Only light breakers and whirlwinds reminded of a departed storm.
Chapter Two
THE RESCUE
In a narrow bay, exhausted waves licked the sandy spit strewn with algae with wet tongues, leaving an uneven dark strip behind them.
Two mismatched shoes, a sailor's white beret with a blue pom-pom, and three rumpled wide-brimmed hats were strewn about in disorder across the sand. At the very edge of the surf lay motionless, arms outstretched, a man in a torn linen shirt and short trousers. A haze of vapors hung over the coastal ferns, quickly eaten away by the heat of the scorching sun.
The wave touched the feet of a man lying on the sand. He stirred. Opened my eyes. And he got up sharply. In the distance, behind a ridge of reefs, a ship lay aground with its square stern raised high.
- God! the man whispered. “By what miracle could I have reached the shore?”
He looked around. I noticed on the sand a pair of unpaired shoes and a sailor's beret. Was he the only one saved? And how many hours, or perhaps days, did he lie there? The poor fellow struggled to his feet on his wobbly, unruly legs. The sandy spit rested against a ridge of lifeless rocks. Somewhere between them grew giant trees.
His first thought was to climb the tree and see where he was. Is it an island or mainland? Is there any hope of seeing human habitation? The silent silence oppressed him. Who could be hiding behind these rocks? Wild animals? Savages? Then it is all the more necessary to get to the saving trees as soon as possible.
He stood for a few minutes to gather his strength and moved forward. Feet got stuck in the sand, the sun was hot and blinded. But the confusion that settled in his soul made him almost run. Finally, he reached the first tree. Thick, branched, it resembled a huge spruce, but only dotted with thorns. Clinging to the densely growing branches, not without difficulty, tearing his palms to the blood, he crawled almost to the top. And numb.
The sea stretched all around. Now his bitter fate became completely clear to him: he was abandoned on the island! Even if he is not torn to pieces by predatory animals, if not killed by savages, he is destined to die of hunger. After all, he did not have any weapons to defend himself and hunt. Only a small smoking pipe and a pouch of wet tobacco remained in his pocket. And if there is no fresh water on the island, then he is threatened not only by starvation, but also by a terrible death from thirst.
“Oh, father,” he whispered, “how right you were!
Chapter Three
vicissitudes of fate
The memories came flooding back. As a child, when his name was not Mr. Crusoe, but simply by his first name - Robinson - he dreamed of sea voyages. Barely reaching the age of eighteen, the young man set out to go to sea on a ship bound for London. For a long time his parents persuaded him not to take this rash step.
“The time will come,” my father explained, “when you will regret that you neglected my advice, but then, perhaps, there will be no one to help you correct the evil you have done.
Not heeding either the exhortations of a stern father or the pleas of a kind-hearted mother, the young varmint Robinson Crusoe secretly fled from home and on September 1, 1651 boarded a ship and went to sea. And providence was not slow to teach him a cruel lesson. As soon as the ship left the mouth of the river into the open sea, a terrible storm broke out. High shafts rose over the side and fell on the deck, threatening to wash away the deck buildings, busily fussing sailors, break the masts.
A young man who had never sailed before, a novice in maritime affairs, was already preparing for death in the depths of the sea. He offered up prayers and swore to himself that if he was destined to be saved, if his foot set foot on solid ground again, he would immediately return home and never again board a ship.
“Father, father,” he lamented, “why did I not heed your warnings?
But the storm passed, the surface of the sea smoothed out, and Robinson forgot all his fears, and with them remorse melted, all vows were forgotten. Once in London, he almost immediately boarded a ship bound for Africa, to the shores of Guinea. This trip turned out to be successful. Robinson Crusoe even managed to make good money. Since then, he went to sea more than once on various ships and became, as it seemed to him, a completely experienced navigator. Now he, like an avid sailor, went on the most risky trips without fear. But the trouble, hiding for the time being, was waiting for him.
It began with the fact that Robinson Crusoe was hired on a ship heading for the Canary Islands. Near the African coast, a Turkish corsair chased them in full sail. Desperately resisting sailors could not resist heavily armed pirates. The captives were taken to a Turkish port and sold as slaves to the Moors. Robinson Crusoe became the slave of a pirate captain. For two whole years he did the most menial work in his master's house.
Again and again he repeated bitterly:
“Oh, how right you were, father!
And yet fate favored the unfortunate slave. He managed to break free on a small longboat. After many adventures, Robinson Crusoe ended up in Brazil. Here he began working in the harvesting of sugar cane. After a few years, he himself became the owner of a small plantation. It would seem that his life improved, but frivolity and a thirst for adventure again involved him in the abyss of disaster.
And on September 1, 1659, exactly eight years after running away from home, Robinson Crusoe boarded a ship heading for Africa. But halfway through they were caught by a violent storm. The ship, carried by the wind and waves, was far from the trade routes. The storm did not subside. Now one could only hope for a miracle. Again Robinson remembered his father's words:
“…and there will be no one to help you…”
Here it is, punishment for disobedience! He was already saying goodbye to life, but, apparently, fate promised him not death, but long and difficult trials. The unfortunate was thrown onto a desert island ...
Chapter Four
CHESTS AND GUN
Memories of many years of hardship suddenly gave Robinson strength. He took one last look at the wreck of the ship sticking out of the sea. There, perhaps, food supplies and some clothes have been preserved untouched by water. The tide began to ebb, and the creek became so shallow that it seemed that it would not be difficult to get to the ship. He really managed to approach the ship almost dry land so close that he had to swim about two hundred meters.
The bow of the ship was completely submerged in the water, and the stern rose so much that the bottom, dotted with shells, appeared. Climbing onto the forecastle, Robinson found that the entire supply of provisions remained dry. Tormented by hunger, he first of all went to the pantry, tore open a bag of crackers, stuffed his pockets with them and gnawed on the go, at the same time rummaging through the hold filled with water, the sailors' cockpits, the captain's cabin.
The yield was unexpectedly large.
Rusks, three rounds of Dutch cheese, five slices of beef jerky, a bag of mouse-eaten barley grains, a barrel of wine.
Two hunting rifles, two pistols, a powder flask, a bag of shot and two old sabers, three barrels of gunpowder.
Carpenter's supplies: two bags of nails, a screwdriver, a dozen or two axes, a whetstone, a chisel. Three scrap iron, two barrels of rifle bullets, seven muskets and a large bag of shot.
Camisoles, boots, shirts, strong linen trousers. In the captain's cabin, to his delight, he found three razors, large scissors, and a dozen forks and knives. And in a separate box were money. Robinson held the silver and gold coins in his palm with a grin and poured them back without regret.
"Useless junk," he whispered. Why do I need them now?
But ropes, a spare sail, a hammock and a few mattresses and pillows were simply an invaluable find. Robinson also attempted to take the collar of the ship's rope. But he was unable to lift this weight. Then with an ax he cut this heavy rope, as thick as a hand, into pieces and stuffed an empty bag with them.
At this he calmed down. But how to transport all this unbearable cargo to the shore?
And Robinson set about building a raft. He lowered the fragments of masts, topmasts and yardarms into the water, threw several lighter logs overboard, prudently tying each with a rope so that it would not be carried away by the current. Now all that remained was to go down into the water himself and, having fitted the logs one to the other, pulled them together with ropes and strengthened them with yards and boards laid across. It turned out to be an unsightly, but rather reliable raft.
Robinson dragged three sailor's chests on deck, emptied them, and lowered them one by one onto his raft, which swayed on the rising water: the tide was beginning, and it was necessary to hurry. He was feverishly loading chests, lowering barrels on ropes, when a plaintive barking was heard from somewhere in the depths of the ship ...
Chapter Five
FIRST FRIEND
Robinson froze. He was already desperate to hear not only a human voice, but any sound that reminds of a former life. In the next moment he was back on deck and rushed down the steep ladder, from which came the now joyful squeal.
Why was the dog silent earlier? Robinson literally rolled down the narrow steps and hurried along the corridor with a series of doors leading to the cabins. Now the barking of dogs could be heard very close - it came from the skipper's cabin.
The ship's floor suddenly swayed underfoot. Water splashed from under the cabin door. The tide has begun. I had to hurry. Robinson pushed the door. She was locked up. I had to return for the axe. Hearing the receding footsteps, the dog burst into a desperate bark. Jumping out on deck, Robinson saw that the tide had lifted the ship aground and was about to carry it out to sea. But he could not leave a living being, doom him to certain death.
When the cabin door shattered into chips under the blows of the ax, water gushed into the corridor, and the whole wet white lop-eared dog rushed onto Robinson's chest. He wagged his tail so much that it seemed that his whole rear half was about to fall off. But Robinson was unspeakably happy. Already accustomed to the idea that he was left alone on the island, he suddenly found a friend. However, we had to hurry.
Robinson again rushed to the deck. The dog, getting underfoot, did not lag behind. Finding another pair of broken oars from the ship's boat, Robinson pushed the loaded raft away and steered it towards the shore.
Soon a small cove opened up in front of him. A strong current quickly carried the raft, and Robinson could only control the oar, trying to stay in the middle of the fairway. The raft heeled first in one direction, then in the other, and the entire load moved down the inclined plane. Robinson rushed to the opposite side, leveling the raft. Clever dog immediately repeated his jerks.
Finally, the raft entered the bay, or rather, at the mouth of a small river. Robinson stuck the oars on both sides of the raft into the sandy bottom, holding it as if at anchor.
“Well, my friend, life seems to be getting better,” he turned to his new friend with a bitter smile.
The dog happily wagged his tail and jumped to the shore with a single jump. Robinson did not dare to leave the raft. He sat on the edge, deciding to wait for the tide to go out. Only after the raft sits firmly on the shallow bottom, it will be possible to begin unloading.
Having unloaded the raft, Robinson sailed to the ship several more times. On one of these trips, two cats suddenly jumped onto the raft with a wild meow. They hissed and did not give up, and as soon as the raft landed on the shore, they rushed away. Robinson looked after them with regret. “Nothing, he thought, ship cats, domestic ones. If I have a house, they will come running.
Robinson left the dog on the shore to guard his wealth, for he was a little afraid that in his absence some animals would destroy food supplies. However, returning to the shore, he did not notice any traces of uninvited guests. However, it could rain, and wet not only crackers, but, even more dangerously, gunpowder. And Robinson began to arrange a shelter.
First of all, he cut several long poles in a nearby grove. Having chosen a high flat rock, he dug poles next to it and pulled a sailcloth over them. The result was a tent with one stone wall, something like a covered terrace. Into this rather spacious tent he moved everything that could be spoiled by rain or sun. Fearing an attack by wild animals or people, Robinson outside, on three sides of the tent, piled up a shaft of empty boxes and barrels. He blocked the entrance to the tent with a large chest, knocking the bottom out of it first and placing it sideways. It turned out an excellent vestibule with a thick door.
Now all that remained was to spread a couple of mattresses on the ground and throw pillows on them. Out of caution, Robinson placed two loaded pistols at the heads, and a gun on his right hand next to the mattress. At the very entrance, he spread out a piece of canvas for the dog.
For the first time in days, Robinson spent the night in bed. Fatigue overtook him, he slept soundly almost until morning. Before dawn, he was awakened by the sound of the sea. Coming out of the tent, Robinson saw that the storm was starting again. The wind whistled through the foamy surface of the water. The waves rolled over the hills. It seemed that the island itself, like a ship taken by surprise, was about to break from all anchors, and carry it into the open sea. The downpour poured down.
Robinson ducked back into the tent, where the dog was already clinging to the bundles of rope in the corner. The canvas sagged under the torrents of rain, but, fortunately, withstood the pressure of the wind. Robinson once again rejoiced that he had managed to arrange, albeit temporary, but a saving shelter.
The storm raged for half a day, and suddenly everything calmed down at once. Looking outside, Robinson did not find the ship. The storm had finished him off, and the wreckage had scattered over the sea, which was now deserted to the very horizon. How timely he managed to take ashore the most necessary things!
An unexpected storm led Robinson to the idea that his hastily arranged shelter might not save him another time. It was necessary to arrange a solid dwelling away from the coast and in a place sheltered from the wind. Maybe dig a dugout behind the nearest hill? But his house had to have a view of the sea, so as not to miss an opportunity to escape if Providence sends him some ship passing by.
Chapter six
FORTRESS
Robinson did not immediately take up the construction of a strong and durable house. In his soul, the hope for a speedy deliverance has not yet melted. But now a week or two has passed since the day when the unfortunate man ended up on the island. He was suddenly afraid that he would lose track of time. And it was that invisible thread that still connected him with the lost world. True, he had ink, pens and paper found on the ship in the captain's cabin. But there were so few of them that Robinson decided to save both the bottle of ink and the sheaf of paper for the time being.
On the shore, where the sea threw him, he erected a large wooden post. After nailing a piece of sideboard to a post, Robinson carved the first inscription on it with a knife:
Now every day he made notches on the wide edge of the pillar with an axe. Six short ones and one longer one, denoting Sunday. The notches that separated the first of each month were made even longer.
Thus began his long life on a desert island. If it were not for conversations with himself, then one could say that Robinson's life proceeded in complete silence.
So, the first thing was to build a more or less comfortable and, most importantly, safe house. Having taken a trip around the neighborhood, Robinson finally found a completely suitable place for a dwelling. It was a small flat area on the slope of a high hill. Above, the hill rose as a sheer wall, protecting the future dwelling from an attack from above. Below the platform, the slope went in irregular ledges, turning into a lowland near the seashore. Robinson measured the area in steps - it turned out to be about a hundred meters wide and two hundred meters long.
First of all, Robinson drew a large semicircle along the edge of the site, outlining the boundaries of the future fence. Then he began to cut and sharpen the stakes, driving them deep into the ground all around the semicircle in two rows. In the narrow space between the rows of pointed stakes, he poured and tightly packed the stumps of the ship's rope. It turned out to be an excellent strong palisade.
From the inside, Robinson reinforced his fence with props of fairly thick logs. He did not make a gate or a gate, but built a ladder, which he removed every time he entered his shelter.
More than one day was spent on the construction of the palisade. Inside, Robinson set up a tent, where, with incredible difficulty, he dragged all his belongings. The tent rested against the vertical slope of the mountain, where there was a rather deep depression. Robinson decided to expand it and arrange a real cave that would serve as a cellar. He poured the dug earth and stones into bags and dragged them to the fence, pouring a ditch out of them and, thus, strengthening the palisade.
On the second day of work, a thunderstorm suddenly broke out. Thunder rumbled, lightning flashed, which seemed ready to pierce the canvas of the tent. With each flash of lightning, it turned into an alarmingly shimmering pink dome. It seemed that this was not the crackle of an electric discharge, but the tarpaulin overhead was cracking and bursting.
- My gunpowder! exclaimed Robinson.
He was not at all afraid that the gunpowder would get wet. He was frightened by lightning. It was worth any of the fiery arrows to hit one of the barrels, and from the entire stock, what can I say! - nothing would remain of the entire fortress and himself.
As soon as the storm subsided, Robinson began to sew small bags from the scraps of the sail and pour gunpowder into them. Now divided into about a hundred pieces and sheltered in different places, gunpowder could not flare up all at once. It took Robinson two whole weeks to complete this work.
The days go by in a straight line. I'm already starting to lose track of time. You can not do it this way. I now have paper, a pen and a bottle of ink. Until all the sheets of paper are written and the ink runs out, I will write my diary and write down everything here, even the smallest events of my current life. If I am not destined to escape from here, then maybe these notes will come across some traveler whom fate will throw on this island.
I'll start from the first day, before his impressions fade from memory.
So, on September 30, 1659, I, the unfortunate Robinson Crusoe, by the will of an evil fate ended up on this abandoned island. How many complaints I did not lift up to the sky, how many bitter tears did not flow from my eyes! Fearing wild animals, I spent the night on a tall, branchy tree. But the morning sun greeted me, and my sadness softened a little.
And soon worries returned my strength. Now I no longer remember my complaints and do not understand the past despondency. Hope is with me. And I will do the rest with my own hands. Unfortunately, I have plenty of time.
The story of Robinson's life on a desert island is a story about a courageous and resourceful man who managed to survive and not run wild thanks to his strong spirit and diligence.
A series: Robinson Crusoe
* * *
The following excerpt from the book Robinson Crusoe (Daniel Defoe, 1719) provided by our book partner - the company LitRes.
Foreword
If there is a story of the adventures of a private individual that deserves to be in the public domain and to be universally warmly received after its publication, then, as the publisher believes, this is the story.
The marvelous adventures of her hero surpass - the publisher is sure of it - all ever described and come down to us; it is hard to imagine that the life of one person can accommodate such a variety of events.
The story is told simply, seriously, with a religious understanding of what is happening, which smart people can always use, namely, to explain the wisdom and goodness of Providence, manifested in various circumstances of human life, using the plot as an example.
The publisher is convinced that this narrative is only a strict statement of facts, there is not a shadow of fiction in it. Moreover, he must say (for there are different opinions about such things) that further improvements, whether for entertainment or for the instruction of readers, would only spoil the story.
So, no longer seeking the attention of the world, the publisher publishes this story as it is, believing that by doing so he is doing a great service to readers.
I was born in 1632 in the city of York into a respectable family, although not of indigenous origin: my father came from Bremen and settled at first in Hull. Having made a good fortune by trading, he left business and moved to York. Here he married my mother, who belonged to an old family called Robinson. They gave me the name Robinson, while the British changed my paternal surname Kreizner, according to their custom of distorting foreign words, into Crusoe. Over time, we ourselves began to call ourselves and sign Crusoe; That's what my friends always called me.
I had two older brothers. One served in Flanders in an English infantry regiment, the same one once commanded by the famous Colonel Lockhart; brother rose to the rank of lieutenant colonel and was killed in battle with the Spaniards near Dunkirk. What happened to my second brother, I don’t know how my father and mother didn’t know what happened to me.
Since I was the third son in the family, they were not going to let me through the trading part, and my head was young years was full of all sorts of nonsense. My father, being already in old age, took care that I received a tolerable education, insofar as home education and a free city school could give it. He read me as a lawyer, but I dreamed of sea voyages and did not want to hear about anything else. This passion of mine for the sea turned out to be so strong that I went against the will of my father - moreover, against his prohibitions - and neglected the persuasion and entreaties of my mother and friends; there seemed to be something fatal in this natural attraction, which pushed me to the misfortunes that befell me.
My father, a sedate and intelligent man, guessing my intentions, warned me seriously and thoroughly. Bedridden with gout, he called me one morning to his room and began to exhort me with ardor. What other reasons, he asked, than a propensity for wandering, can I have for leaving my father's house and native country, where I can, by diligence and work, increase my prosperity and live in contentment and pleasantness? Those who leave the country in pursuit of adventure, he said, are either those who have nothing to lose, or the ambitious who yearn to achieve even more; some embark on enterprises that go beyond the framework of everyday life, for the sake of profit, others - for the sake of glory; but such goals are either inaccessible to me or unworthy; my destiny is the middle, that is, what can be called the highest stage of a modest existence, and, as he was convinced by many years of experience, it is better than any other in the world and most of all adapted for happiness, because a person is not oppressed by need and deprivation, hard work and the sufferings that fall to the lot of the lower classes, and do not confuse the luxury, ambition, arrogance and envy of the upper classes. How pleasant such a life, he said, can be judged at least by the fact that everyone else is envious of it: after all, kings often complain about the bitter fate of people born for great deeds, and complain that fate did not put them between two extremes - insignificance and greatness, and even the sage, who prayed to heaven not to send him either poverty or wealth, thereby testified that the golden mean is an example of true happiness.
One only has to observe, my father assured me, and I will understand that all the hardships of life are distributed between the upper and lower classes and that they are least endured by people of moderate means, who are not subject to so many vicissitudes of fate as the upper and lower circles of human society; even from ailments, bodily and mental, they are more protected than those whose illnesses are generated either by vices, luxury and all kinds of excesses, or by exhausting work, want, meager and bad food, and all their ailments are nothing but natural consequences. lifestyle. The average position in society is most conducive to the flowering of all the virtues and all the joys of being: peace and contentment are his servants; moderation, temperance, health, peace of mind, sociability, all kinds of pleasant amusements, all kinds of pleasures are his blessed companions. A person of average prosperity goes through his life path quietly and serenely, not burdening himself with either physical or mental overwork, not selling himself into slavery because of a piece of bread, not tormented by the search for a way out of tangled situations that deprive the body of sleep, and the soul of rest, without suffering from envy, without secretly burning with the fire of ambition. He freely and easily glides through life, rationally tasting the sweetness of life that does not leave a bitter aftertaste, feeling that he is happy, and every day comprehending this more clearly and deeply.
Then my father persistently and extremely affectionately began to beg me not to be childish, not to rush headlong into disasters, from which nature itself and the conditions of life seemed to protect me. After all, I have not been forced to work because of a piece of bread, but he will make every effort to lead me to the path that he advises me to take; if I turn out to be unsuccessful or unfortunate, then I will have to blame only bad fate or my own mistakes, since he warned me against a step that would not bring me anything but harm, and, having thus fulfilled his duty, lays down all responsibility; in a word, if I stay at home and arrange my life according to his instructions, he will be a caring father to me, but in no case will he contribute to my destruction by encouraging me to leave. In conclusion, he cited my older brother as an example, whom he just as persistently urged not to take part in the Dutch war, but all persuasions were in vain: youthful dreams forced my brother to flee into the army, and he died. And although, finished my father, he will never stop praying for me, but he undertakes to assert that if I do not give up my crazy intentions, God's blessing will not come upon me. The time will come when I will regret that I have neglected his advice, but then, perhaps, there will be no one to come to my rescue.
I saw how at the end of this speech (it was truly prophetic, although I think my father himself did not suspect it) copious tears streamed down the old man's face, especially when he spoke of my murdered brother; and when the priest said that the time for repentance would come, but there would be no one to help me, his voice trembled from excitement, and he whispered that his heart was breaking and he could not utter a single word more.
I was sincerely touched by this speech (and who would not have been touched by it?) and firmly decided not to think about leaving for foreign lands anymore, but to remain in my homeland, as my father wished. But alas! In a few days there was no trace of my determination left: in short, a few weeks after my conversation with my father, in order to avoid new father's admonitions, I decided to sneak out of the house. I restrained my impatience and acted slowly: choosing a time when my mother, it seemed to me, was in a better mood than usual, I took her to a corner and confessed that all my thoughts were subordinated to the desire to see distant lands, and that even if I do some business, I still do not have the patience to carry it to the end, and that it is better for my father to let me go voluntarily, otherwise I will have to do without his permission. I am already eighteen years old, I said, and in these years it is too late to learn a craft, and even if I had become a scribe to a solicitor, I know in advance that I would have run away from my patron, not having reached the end of my training, and gone to sea. But if my mother persuaded my father at least once to let me go on a sea voyage; if life at sea is not to my liking, I will return home and leave no more; and I can give you my word that by redoubled diligence I will make up for lost time.
My words greatly agitated my mother. She said that it was useless to talk to my father about this, because he understood too well what was my use, and would never give consent to something that would harm me. She is simply amazed that I can still think about such things after my conversation with my father, who persuaded me so gently and with such kindness. Of course, if I firmly decided to destroy myself, nothing can be done about it, but I can be sure that neither she nor my father will ever agree to my idea; but she herself does not in the least wish to contribute to my ruin, and I will never be able to say that my mother indulged me, while my father was against it.
Subsequently, I learned that although my mother refused to intercede for me with my father, however, she conveyed our conversation to him from word to word. Very preoccupied with this turn of affairs, her father said to her with a sigh: “The boy could live happily by remaining in his homeland, but if he goes to foreign lands, he will become the most miserable, most unfortunate creature in the world. No, I can't agree to that."
It took almost a year before I managed to break free. During this time, I stubbornly remained deaf to all proposals to go into business and often quarreled with my father and mother, who resolutely opposed what I was so strongly attracted to. Once, when I was in Hull, where I ended up by chance, without any thought of escaping, a friend of mine, who was going to London on his father’s ship, began to persuade me to go with him, tempting me, as sailors usually do, with the fact that I travel will cost nothing. And so, without asking either the father or the mother, without notifying them with a word and leaving them to find out about it as they have to, without asking either the parental or God's blessing, not taking into account either the circumstances or the consequences, in an unkind way - he sees God! - hour, September 1, 1651, I boarded a ship bound for London. It must be assumed that the misfortunes and troubles of young adventurers never began so early and lasted so long as mine. No sooner had our ship left the mouth of the Humber than the wind blew, raising huge, terrible waves. Until then I had never been to sea, and I cannot describe how badly my poor body suffered, and how my soul trembled with fear. And only then did I seriously think about what I had done, and about the justice of the heavenly punishment that had befallen me for leaving my father's house so shamelessly and violating my filial duty. All the good advice of my parents, the tears of my father and the prayers of my mother were resurrected in my memory, and my conscience, which at that time had not yet had time to completely harden, tormented me for neglecting parental exhortations and for violating duties before God and father.
Meanwhile the wind grew stronger, and a storm broke out on the sea, which, however, was not compared with those that I saw many times later, nor even with the one that I happened to see a few days later. But even this was enough to stun me, a novice who knew nothing about maritime affairs. When a new wave rolled in, I expected that it would swallow us up, and every time the ship fell down, as it seemed to me, into the abyss or abyss of the sea, I was sure that it would no longer rise to the surface. And in this torment of my soul, I repeatedly decided and swore to myself that if the Lord would please save my life this time, if my foot again sets foot on solid ground, I will immediately return home to my father and, as long as I live, I will not sit on ship, that I would follow my father's advice and never again expose myself to such danger. Now I understood the full validity of my father's reasoning regarding the golden mean; it became clear to me how peacefully and pleasantly he lived all his life, never exposing himself to storms at sea and adversity on land - in a word, I, like once a prodigal son, decided to return to my parents' house with repentance.
These sober and prudent thoughts did not leave me as long as the storm lasted, and even for some time after it; but the next morning the wind began to subside, the excitement subsided, and I began to gradually get used to the sea. Be that as it may, all that day I was in a very serious mood (especially since I had not yet fully recovered from seasickness); but before sunset the sky cleared, the wind stopped, and a quiet, charming evening came; the sun set without clouds and rose just as clear the next day, and the smooth surface of the sea, with complete or almost complete calm, all bathed in its radiance, presented a delightful picture that I had never seen before.
I had a good night's sleep, there was no trace of my seasickness, I was cheerful and cheerful and admired the sea, which only yesterday was so raging and roaring and in such a short time could calm down and present such an attractive sight. And then, as if to change my prudent decision, a friend approached me, lured me to go with him, and, clapping me on the shoulder, said: “Well, Bob, how do you feel after yesterday? I bet that you were frightened - admit it, you were frightened yesterday when the breeze blew? - "Wind? Good wind! I could not have imagined such a terrible storm!” - Storms! Oh you freak! So you think it's a storm? What you! These are sheer rubbish! Give us a good ship and plenty of space - we will not notice such a squall. Well, you're still quite an inexperienced sailor, Bob. Let's go make a punch and forget about it. Look what a wonderful day it is!” To shorten this sad part of my story, I’ll tell you what happened next, as it should be with sailors: they cooked a punch, I got pretty tipsy and drowned in the revelry of that night all my remorse, all my thoughts about my past behavior and all my good decisions about the future. In a word, as soon as calm reigned on the sea, as soon as my agitated feelings subsided along with the storm and the fear of drowning in the depths of the sea passed away, my thoughts turned back to their former course, and all the oaths, all the promises that I made to myself in the hours of suffering, were forgotten. True, at times enlightenment came over me, sound thoughts still tried, so to speak, to return to me, but I drove them away, fought them, as if with attacks of illness, and with the help of drunkenness and cheerful company I soon triumphed over these attacks, as I called them: in some five or six days I won such a complete victory over my conscience as a youth who decided not to pay attention to it could wish for himself. However, another test awaited me: as always in such cases, Providence wished to take away from me the last justification before myself; in fact, if this time I did not want to understand that I was completely obliged to him, then the next test was of such a kind that here the very last, most inveterate villain from our crew could not but admit that the danger was truly great and we were saved only by a miracle.
On the sixth day after going to sea, we came to the Yarmouth roadstead. The wind after the storm was always unfavorable and weak, so that after the storm we could hardly move. Here we were compelled to drop anchor, and stayed with the south-westerly, that is, opposite, wind for seven or eight days. During this time, a considerable number of ships came to the road from Newcastle, for the Yarmouth road usually serves as a mooring place for ships that wait here for a fair wind to enter the river.
However, we would not have stood for a long time and would have entered the river with the tide, if the wind had not been so fresh, and after five days it had not grown even stronger. However, the Yarmouth Road is considered as good a anchorage as the harbor, and anchors and anchor lines were reliable with us; therefore, our people did not worry at all and did not even think about danger - according to the custom of sailors, they divided their leisure time between rest and entertainment. But on the eighth day in the morning the wind increased, and it was necessary to whistle up all the sailors, remove the topmasts and tightly fasten everything that was needed so that the ship could safely stay in the roadstead. By noon, a great excitement began at sea, the ship began to rock violently; he scooped up the side several times, and once or twice it seemed to us that we had been torn off the anchor. Then the captain ordered to give a spare anchor. In this way, we held on to two anchors against the wind, etching the ropes to the end.
Meanwhile, a fierce storm broke out. Confusion and fear were now even on the faces of the sailors. Several times I heard the captain himself, passing me from his cabin, muttering in an undertone: “Lord, have mercy on us, otherwise we died, we are all finished,” which did not prevent him, however, from vigilantly observing the work to save the ship . At first, I looked at all this turmoil in a stupefied state, lying motionless in my cabin next to the helm, and I don’t even know exactly what I felt. It was difficult for me to return to my former repentant mood after I myself despised it and hardened my soul; it seemed to me that the horror of death had passed once and for all, and that this storm would pass without a trace, like the first. But, I repeat, when the captain himself, passing by, mentioned the death that threatened us, I was incredibly frightened. I ran out of the cabin onto the deck; never in my life had I seen such an ominous picture: waves rising up on the sea as high as a mountain, and such a mountain overturned on us every three or four minutes. When, having gathered my courage, I looked around, I saw serious disasters. On two heavily laden ships anchored not far from us, all the masts were chopped off. One of our sailors called out that the ship, half a mile ahead of us, had sunk. Two more ships were torn from their anchors and carried away to the open sea to the mercy of fate, for neither one nor the other had a single mast left. Smaller ships held on better than others - it was easier for them to maneuver; but two or three of them were also swept out to sea, and they rushed side by side past us, having removed all the sails except one stern jib.
At the end of the day, the navigator and boatswain began to beg the captain to let them cut down the foremast. The captain resisted for a long time, but the boatswain began to prove that if the foremast was left, the ship would certainly sink, and he agreed, and when the foremast was demolished, the mainmast began to stagger and rock the ship so much that it was necessary to demolish both it and thus free the deck.
Judge for yourself what I must have experienced all this time - a youngster and a novice, shortly before that I was frightened by a little excitement. But if, after so many years, my memory does not deceive me, it was not death that scared me then; I was a hundred times more horrified by the thought that I had changed my decision to turn myself in confession to my father and returned to my former chimerical aspirations, and these thoughts, aggravated by the horror of the storm, brought me to a state that no words can describe. But the worst was yet to come. The storm continued to rage with such force that, according to the sailors themselves, they never happened to see such a thing. Our ship was strong, but because of the heavy load it sat deep in the water, and it rocked so much that it was constantly heard on the deck: “Heeling! It's tobacco!" Perhaps it was for the best for me that I did not fully understand the meaning of these words until I asked for an explanation. However, the storm raged more and more violently, and I saw - and this is not often seen - how the captain, the boatswain and several other people, more intelligent than the rest, were praying, expecting that the ship was about to go down. To top it all off, suddenly in the middle of the night one of the sailors, going down into the hold to see if everything was in order, shouted that the ship was leaking; another messenger reported that the water had already risen four feet. Then the command was heard: “Everyone to the pumps!” When I heard these words, my heart sank, and I fell back on the bunk where I was sitting. But the sailors pushed me aside, declaring that if up to now I had been useless, now I could work like anyone else. Then I got up, went to the pump, and diligently began pumping. At this time, several small ships loaded with coal, unable to withstand the wind, weighed anchor and put to sea. As they passed by, our captain ordered a distress call to be fired from a cannon. Not understanding what this meant, I was horrified, imagining that our ship had crashed or something else, no less terrible, had happened, and the shock was so strong that I fainted. But at such a moment, it was just right for everyone to take care only of saving their own lives, and no one paid attention to me and did not ask what happened to me. Another sailor, pushing me away with his foot, stood at the pump in my place, fully convinced that I was already dead; It took a long time before I woke up.
The work was in full swing, but the water in the hold rose higher and higher. It was obvious that the ship was going to sink, and although the storm was beginning to abate a little, there was no hope that she could hold out on the water until we entered the harbor, and the captain continued to fire his cannons, calling for help. Finally, one light craft, standing in front of us, ventured to lower the boat to give us help. Being exposed to no small danger, the boat approached us, but neither we could get to it, nor the boat could moor to our ship, although people rowed with all their might, risking their lives to save ours. Finally, our sailors threw a rope with a buoy from the stern, etching it to a great length. After long and futile efforts, the rowers managed to catch the end of the rope; we hauled them under the stern, and one and all went down into the boat. Getting to their ship was out of the question; so we unanimously decided to row with the wind, trying only to keep as close as possible to the shore. Our captain promised the other sailors that if the boat broke on the shore, he would pay the owner for it. And so, partly at the oars, partly driven by the wind, we headed north towards Winterton Ness, gradually approaching the land.
Less than a quarter of an hour had passed since the moment when we set sail from the ship, as it began to sink before our eyes. And then, for the first time, I understood what “business is tobacco” means. I must, however, confess that, having heard the cries of the sailors: "The ship is sinking!" - I almost did not have the strength to look at him, for since I got off, or rather, when they took me into the boat, everything seemed to be numb in me from confusion and fear, as well as from the thought of what else lies ahead of me. .
While the people were leaning with all their might on the oars to steer the boat towards the shore, we could see (for every time the boat was tossed by a wave, we could see the shore) that a large crowd had gathered there: everyone was fussing and running, preparing to give us help, when we get closer. But we moved very slowly, and did not reach land until we passed Winterton Lighthouse, where between Winterton and Cromer the coastline curves to the west, and where, therefore, its protrusions moderated the force of the wind a little. Here we landed, and, with great difficulty, but nevertheless safely getting on land, we went on foot to Yarmouth, where we, as shipwrecked, were received with great sympathy; The magistrate of the city gave us good lodgings, and the local merchants and shipowners supplied us with money sufficient to carry us either to London or to Hull, as we chose.
If I could then go back to Hull, to my parents' house, how happy I would be! And my father, in joy, as in the Gospel parable, would even slaughter a fattened calf for me: after all, he only knew that the ship on which I went to sea sank in the Yarmouth roadstead, and he became aware of my salvation only much later.
But my evil fate kept pushing me onto the same disastrous path with a stubbornness that was impossible to resist; and although a sober voice of reason was repeatedly heard in my soul, calling me to return home, I did not have enough strength for this. I don’t know what to call it, and I won’t insist, but some secret decree of omnipotent fate prompts us to be the instrument of our own destruction, even when we see it in front of us, and to rush towards it with open eyes, but no doubt that only mine an evil fate, which I could not avoid, made me go against the sober arguments and suggestions of the best part of my being and neglect the two so clear lessons that I received at the first attempt to enter the new path.
The son of our shipowner, my friend, who helped me to strengthen myself in a disastrous decision, has now subdued more than I; the first time he spoke to me at Yarmouth (which happened only after two or three days, since we all lived apart in that city), I noticed that his tone had changed. He shook his head sadly and asked how I felt. After explaining to his father who I was, he said that I undertook this trip as an experience, but in the future I intended to travel all over the world. Then his father, turning to me, said seriously and anxiously:
- Young man! You should never again go to sea: you must take what happened to us as a clear and undeniable sign that you are not destined to be a navigator.
- Why, sir? I objected. "Aren't you going to swim more too?"
“That’s another matter,” he answered, “swimming is my profession and, therefore, my duty. But you, after all, went sailing for the sake of testing. So heaven has given you a taste of what you should expect if you persist in your decision. Perhaps it was you who brought us misfortune, like Jonah to the Tharsh ship ... I beg you, - he added, - explain to me plainly who you are and what prompted you to undertake this voyage?
Then I told him something about myself. As soon as I finished, he suddenly burst into rage.
- What have I done, - he said, - what was wrong that this miserable outcast stepped on the deck of my ship! Never in my life, even for a thousand pounds, will I agree to sail on the same ship with you!
Of course, all this was said in the hearts of a man already grieved at his loss, and in the heat of anger he went further than he should have. However, later he spoke to me calmly and very seriously urged me not to tempt Providence to my own destruction and to return to my father, for in everything that happened I must see the finger of God.
“Ah, young man! he said in conclusion. “If you don’t return home, then, believe me, wherever you go, only misfortunes and failures will follow you until your father’s words come true.
Shortly thereafter we parted; I had nothing to say to him, and I never saw him again. Where he went from Yarmouth I do not know; I had some money, and I went to London by land. And on the way there, I often had to endure a struggle with myself as to what kind of life I should choose and whether to return home or set sail again.
As for returning to my parental home, shame drowned out the most compelling arguments of my mind: I imagined how my neighbors would laugh at me and how ashamed I would be to look not only at my father and mother, but also at all our acquaintances. Since then, I have often noticed how illogical and inconsistent human nature is, especially in youth: rejecting the considerations that should guide in such cases, people are not ashamed of sin, but are ashamed of repentance, are not ashamed of actions for which they should rightly be called madmen. but are ashamed to come to their senses and live a respectable and reasonable life.
For a long time I remained in indecision, not knowing what to do and what path to take in life. I could not overcome the reluctance to return home, and in the meantime the memory of the disasters suffered was gradually erased from my memory; along with it, the already weak voice of reason, which urged me to return to my father, weakened, and ended with the fact that I threw aside thoughts of returning and began to dream of a new journey.
The same evil force that prompted me to flee from my parental home, which drew me into an absurd and thoughtless undertaking to make a fortune for myself by scouring the world, and drove these nonsense so firmly into my head that I remained deaf to all good advice, to exhortations and even to my father's prohibition, that very force, I say, whatever its kind, pushed me to the most unfortunate enterprise imaginable, I boarded a ship bound for the shores of Africa, or, as our sailors simply put it, " on a flight to Guinea.
My great misfortune was that, embarking on these adventures, I was not hired as a simple sailor: probably, I would have to work harder, but I would have learned the seamanship and in time could become a navigator or, if not a captain, then his assistant. But such was my fate - of all possible paths, I always chose the worst. It was the same here: I had money in my purse, I was wearing a decent dress, and I usually appeared on the ship in the guise of a gentleman, so I didn’t do anything there and didn’t learn anything.
In London I had the good fortune to enter at once into good company, which is not often the case with such debauched youths as I was then, for the devil does not sleep and immediately sets some trap for them. But it was not so with me. I made the acquaintance of a captain who, not long before, had gone to the coast of Guinea, and, as this voyage was very successful for him, he decided to go there again. He liked my company - at that time I could be a pleasant conversationalist - and, having learned that I dreamed of seeing the world, he invited me to go with him, saying that it would not cost me anything, that I would be his companion and friend. If, however, I have the opportunity to take goods with me to Guinea, then I may be lucky, and I will receive all the profits from trade.
I accepted the offer; tying the most friendly relations with this captain, an honest and straightforward man, I set out with him, taking with me a small cargo, on which, thanks to the complete disinterestedness of my friend the captain, I made a very profitable turn; at his direction, I bought forty pounds sterling of various trinkets and knick-knacks. These forty pounds I collected with the help of my relatives, with whom I was in correspondence, and who, I believe, persuaded my father, or rather mother, to help me with at least a small sum in this first enterprise of mine.
This journey was, one might say, the only successful of all my adventures, which I owe to the disinterestedness and honesty of my friend the captain, under whose guidance I, in addition, acquired a fair amount of knowledge in mathematics and navigation, learned to keep a ship's log, make observations and generally learned there are many things that a sailor needs to know. He enjoyed working with me, and I enjoyed learning. In a word, on this voyage I became a sailor and a merchant: I got five pounds nine ounces of gold dust for my goods, for which, on my return to London, I received almost three hundred pounds sterling. This fortune filled me with ambitious dreams, which later completed my doom.
But even on this journey I had to endure many hardships, and, most importantly, I fell ill all the time, seizing the strongest tropical fever due to the too hot climate, for the coast where we traded most lies between the fifteenth degree of northern latitude and the equator.
So I became a merchant and traded with Guinea. Unfortunately for me, my friend the captain died shortly after arriving home, and I decided to go to Guinea again on my own. I sailed from England on the same ship, the command of which has now passed to the mate of the deceased captain. It was the most ill-fated journey that ever fell to the lot of man. It is true that I took with me less than a hundred pounds of the acquired capital, and the remaining two hundred pounds I gave for safekeeping to the widow of my dead friend, who disposed of them very conscientiously; but on the other hand, terrible misfortunes befell me along the way. It began with the fact that one day, at dawn, our ship, heading for the Canary Islands, or rather, between the Canary Islands and the African mainland, was taken by surprise by a Turkish pirate from Sale, who pursued us at full sail. We also raised all the sails that our yards and masts could support, but, seeing that the pirate was overtaking us and would inevitably overtake us in a few hours, we prepared for battle (we had twelve guns, and he had eighteen). About three in the afternoon he overtook us, but by mistake, instead of approaching us from the stern, as he intended, he approached from the side. We aimed eight cannons at the pirate ship and fired a volley at it; then it moved a little further away, having previously answered our fire not only with a cannon, but also with a volley of two hundred guns, since there were two hundred people on this ship. However, no one was hurt here: all our people kept together. Then the pirate prepared for a new attack, and we prepared for a new defense. Approaching this time from the other side, he boarded us: about sixty people broke into our deck, and all of them rushed to cut the tackle first. We met them with rifle fire, pelted them with darts, set fire to boxes of gunpowder, and twice drove them from our deck. Nevertheless, our ship was rendered useless, three of our men were killed and eight were wounded, and in the end (I will shorten this sad part of my story) we were forced to surrender, and we were taken as prisoners to Sale, the seaport, belonging to the Moors.
They didn't treat me as badly as I initially expected. I was not taken, like the others, inland, to the court of the Sultan: the captain of the robber ship kept me as a slave, since I was young, agile and could be useful to him. This dramatic reversal of fate, which turned me from a merchant into a miserable slave, was absolutely stunning; then I remembered the prophetic words of my father that the time will come when there will be no one to rescue me from trouble, words that, I thought, came true now, when the right hand of God punished me and I died irrevocably. But alas! It was but a pale shadow of the ordeals through which I had to go, as the continuation of my story will show.
Since my new master, or rather master, took me to his house, I hoped that he would take me with him on the next voyage. I was sure that sooner or later some Spanish or Portuguese ship would overtake him, and then my freedom would be restored. But my hope was soon dissipated, for, having gone out to sea, he left me to look after his garden and do all the menial work assigned to the slaves; on his return from the campaign, he ordered me to live in a cabin and look after the ship.
From that day on, I thought of nothing but escape, but whatever methods I devised, none of them promised even the slightest hope of success. And it was difficult to imagine the likelihood of success in such an undertaking, for I had no one to trust, no one to seek help from - there was not a single English, Irish or Scot slave here, I was completely alone; so that for two whole years (although during that time I often indulged in dreams of freedom) I had not the slightest hope of carrying out my plan.
But after two years, one extraordinary event presented itself, reviving in my soul the long-standing thought of escaping, and I again decided to make an attempt to break free. Somehow my master stayed at home longer than usual and did not prepare his ship for departure (he, as I heard, did not have enough money). Constantly, once or twice a week, and in good weather more often, he went out on the ship's pinnace to the seaside to fish. On every such trip, he took me and a young Moor as rowers, and we amused him as much as we could. And since I also turned out to be a very skillful fisherman, sometimes he sent me with a boy to fish - Maresco, as they called him - under the supervision of one adult Moor, his relative.
One day we went fishing on a calm, clear morning, but after a mile and a half, we found ourselves in such a dense fog that we lost sight of the shore and began to row at random; after working with the oars all day and all night, we saw the open sea all around us in the morning, for, instead of keeping close to the shore, we moved at least six miles from it. In the end, with great difficulty and not without risk, we got home, as a fairly strong wind blew in the morning, and besides, we were exhausted from hunger.
Instructed by this adventure, my master resolved to be more circumspect in the future, and declared that he would never again go fishing without a compass and without provisions. After the capture of our English ship, he kept the longboat for himself and now ordered his ship's carpenter, also an English slave, to build on this longboat in its middle part a small cabin, or cabin, as on a barge. Behind the cabin, the owner ordered to leave a place for one person who would steer and control the mainsail, and in front - for two to fasten and remove the rest of the sails, of which the jib was above the cabin roof. The cabin turned out to be low, very comfortable and so spacious that it could sleep three and place a table and cabinets for storing bread, rice, coffee and bottles of those drinks that he considered most suitable for sea travel.
We often went for fish on this launch, and since I became a very skilled fisherman, the owner never left without me. One day he decided to go to sea (for fish or just for a ride - I can’t say) with two or three Moors, important people, I suppose, for whom he especially tried, prepared more provisions than usual and sent her to the longboat in the evening. In addition, he ordered me to take three guns with the necessary amount of gunpowder and charges from him on the ship, since, in addition to catching fish, they also wanted to hunt birds.
I did everything as he ordered, and the next day in the morning I was waiting for him on the launch, cleanly washed and completely ready to receive guests, with pennants and a flag raised. However, the host came alone and said that his guests had postponed their trip due to some unforeseen business. Then he ordered the three of us - me, the boy and the Moor - to go, as always, to the seaside for fish, since his friends would have dinner with him, and therefore, as soon as we caught the fish, I should bring it to his house. I obeyed.
It was then that my old idea of escape flashed again in my mind. Now I had a small vessel at my disposal, and as soon as the owner left, I began to prepare, but not for fishing, but for a long journey, although I not only did not know, but did not even think about where I was directing my path: any the road was good for me, if only to get out of captivity.
My first stratagem was to suggest to the Moor that we must stock up on food, as it was not proper for us to use supplies for the host's guests. He replied that it was fair, and dragged a large basket of biscuits and three jugs of fresh water onto the boat. I knew where the owner's cellar with wines was (judging by the appearance - booty from some English ship), and while the Moor was on the shore, I ferried the cellar to the longboat, as if it had been prepared for the owner even earlier. In addition, I brought a large piece of wax, fifty pounds in weight, and took a skein of twine, an ax, a saw and a hammer. All this was very useful to us later, especially the wax from which we made candles. I also resorted to another trick, which the Moor also fell for due to the simplicity of his soul. His name was Ishmael, but everyone called him Mali or Muli. This is what I said to him:
- Mali, we have the master's guns on the longboat. What if you got some gunpowder and shot? Maybe we could shoot some alcomes (a bird like our sandpiper) for dinner. The owner keeps gunpowder and shot on the ship, I know.
“All right, I’ll bring it,” he said, and dragged a large leather bag of gunpowder (a pound and a half in weight, if not more) and another with shot, five or six pounds. He also took the bullets. We carried all this to the barge. In addition, a little more gunpowder was found in the master's cabin, which I poured into one of the almost empty bottles that stood in the box, pouring the rest of the wine from it into another. Thus, we stocked up on everything necessary for the journey and left the harbor to fish. The watchtower that stands at the entrance to the harbor knew who we were, and our ship did not attract attention. When we were no more than a mile from the shore, we took away the sail and began to prepare for fishing. The wind was north-north-east, which did not suit my plans, because, blowing from the south, I could certainly sail to the Spanish coast, at least to Cadiz; but no matter where it was blowing, I firmly decided one thing: to get away from this terrible place and then come what may.
After thinking for a while and not catching anything, I deliberately did not pull out the fishing rods when the fish pecked at me, so that the Moor would not see anything, - I said:
- Here we will not work; the owner will not thank us for such a catch. We must move away.
Not suspecting a dirty trick, the Moor agreed and set the sails, since he was at the bow of the longboat. I got behind the wheel, and when the longboat had gone another three miles into the open sea, I lay down to drift, as if in order to start fishing. Then, handing over the helm to the boy, I approached the Moor from behind, bent down, as if examining something under my feet, suddenly grabbed him, picked him up and threw him overboard. The Moor instantly surfaced, for he was swimming like a cork, and began to beg me to take him on a launch, swearing that he would go with me to the ends of the world. He swam so fast that he would have caught up with the boat very soon, especially since there was almost no wind. Then I rushed into the cabin, grabbed a hunting rifle and, pointing the muzzle at him, shouted that I did not wish him harm and would not harm him if he left me alone.
“You swim well,” I continued, “the sea is quiet, and it doesn’t cost you anything to swim to the shore; I will not touch you; but just try to swim close to the launch, and I will instantly shoot you through the skull, because I firmly decided to regain my freedom.
Then he turned to the shore and, no doubt, swam to it without much difficulty - he was an excellent swimmer.
Of course, I could throw the boy into the sea, and take the Moor with me, but it would be dangerous to trust him. When he had gone far enough, I turned to the boy - his name was Xuri - and said:
– Xuri! If you are faithful to me, I will make you a big man, but if you do not stroke your face as a sign that you will not betray me, that is, you will not swear by the beard of Mohammed and his father, I will throw you into the sea.
The boy smiled, looking straight into my eyes, and answered so frankly that I could not help but believe him. He swore that he would be faithful to me and would go with me to the ends of the earth.
Until the floating Moor was out of sight, I kept straight out to sea, tacking against the wind. I did it on purpose to show that we are going to the Strait of Gibraltar (as, obviously, every sane person would think). Indeed, could it be supposed that we intended to head south, to those truly barbaric shores, where whole hordes of Negroes with their canoes would surround and kill us; where, as soon as we set foot on the ground, we would be torn to pieces by predatory animals or even more bloodthirsty wild creatures in human form?
But as soon as it began to get dark, I changed course and began to rule south, deviating slightly to the east so as not to be too far from the coast. With a rather fresh breeze and a calm sea, we made such good progress that the next day at three o'clock in the afternoon, when land first appeared ahead, we were not less than a hundred and fifty miles south of Sale, far beyond the possessions of the Moroccan Sultan, yes and every other of the lords there, because there were no people to be seen at all.
However, I acquired such fear from the Moors and was so afraid of falling into their hands again that, taking advantage of a favorable wind, I sailed for five whole days without stopping, without landing on the shore and without dropping anchor. Five days later the wind changed to the south, and, in my opinion, if there was a chase for us, then by this time the pursuers should have abandoned it, so I decided to approach the shore and anchored at the mouth of some small river . What kind of river it was and where it flowed, in what country, among what people and under what latitude, I had no idea. I did not see people on the shore, and did not seek to see; The main thing for me was to stock up on fresh water. We entered this river in the evening and decided, when it gets dark, to get to the shore and explore the area. But as soon as it got dark, we heard such terrible sounds from the shore, such a frantic roar, barking and howling of unknown wild animals, that the poor boy nearly died of fear and begged me not to go ashore until daylight.
“All right, Xuri,” I said, “but perhaps in the afternoon we will see people there who are perhaps more dangerous to us than these lions.
“And we bang-bang with a gun,” he said with a laugh, “they will run away.”
From English slaves, Xuri learned to speak broken English language. I was glad that the boy was so cheerful, and in order to maintain this good spirits in him, I gave him a sip of wine from the master's stocks. His advice, in fact, was not bad, and I followed it. We dropped anchor and hid all night. I say - hiding, because we did not sleep for a minute. Two or three hours later, after we dropped anchor, we saw huge animals on the shore (which ones we ourselves did not know); they approached the very shore, threw themselves into the water, splashed and floundered, apparently to refresh themselves, and at the same time squealed disgustingly, roared and howled; I have never heard anything like it in my life.
Xuri was terrified, yes, to tell the truth, so was I. But both of us were even more frightened when we heard that one of these monsters was sailing towards our longboat; we did not see it, but from the way it puffed and snorted, we could conclude that it was a ferocious animal of monstrous proportions. Xuri thought it was a lion (perhaps it was, at least I'm not sure otherwise) and shouted to raise anchor and get out of here.
“No, Xuri,” I answered, “there is no need to raise anchor; we will only etch a longer rope and go out to sea; they won't follow us there. - But before I had time to say this, I saw an unknown animal at a distance of some two oars from the longboat. I confess that I was a little taken aback, but immediately grabbed a gun in the cabin, and as soon as I fired, the animal turned back and swam to the shore.
It is impossible to describe what a hell of a roar, screams and howls rose on the shore and further, in the depths of the mainland, when my shot rang out. This gave me some reason to suppose that the animals here had never heard such a sound. I was finally convinced that we had nothing to think about landing at night, but it would hardly be possible to land even during the day: falling into the hands of some savage is no better than falling into the claws of a lion or a tiger; at least this danger frightened us no less.
Nevertheless, here or elsewhere, we had to go ashore, for we had not a pint of water left. But again the snag was where and how to land. Xuri announced that if I let him ashore with a jug, he would try to find and bring fresh water. And when I asked him why he should go and not me, and why he should not stay in the boat, there was such a deep feeling in the boy's answer that he bribed me forever.
“If there are wild people,” he said, “they will eat me, and you will swim away.”
“Then, Xuri,” I said, “let’s go together, and if there are wild people, we will kill them, and they will not eat you or me.”
I gave the boy some biscuits to eat and a sip of wine from the master's stock, of which I have already spoken; then we pulled ourselves closer to the ground and, jumping into the water, went ford to the shore, taking with us nothing but a weapon and two jugs for water.
I did not want to move away from the coast, so as not to lose sight of the longboat, fearing that savages would come down the river to us in their pirogues; but Xuri, noticing a low land at a distance of about a mile from the shore, walked there with a jug. Soon I saw him running back. Thinking that savages were chasing him or that he was frightened of a predatory beast, I rushed to his aid, but, running closer, I saw that something was lying on his shoulders. It turned out that he killed some animal like our hare, but of a different color and with longer legs. We both rejoiced at such good fortune, and the meat of the slaughtered animal turned out to be very tasty; but I was even more glad to hear from Xuri that he had found good fresh water and did not meet wild people.
Then it turned out that our excessive worries about water were in vain: in the very river where we stood, only a little higher, where the tide did not reach, the water was completely fresh, and having filled the jugs, we arranged a feast from the killed hare and prepared to continue the journey. , without finding any traces of a person in this area.
I had already visited these places once, and I was well aware that the Canary Islands and the Cape Verde Islands were not far from the mainland. But now I had no instruments with me for observing, and consequently I could not determine at what latitude we were; besides, I did not know exactly, or at least did not remember, at what latitude these islands lay, so it was not known where to look for them and when to turn into the open sea in order to sail to them; if I knew this, it would not be difficult for me to get to one of the islands. But I hoped that if I kept along the coast until I reached that part of the country where the English trade on the coast, then I would, in all probability, meet some English merchant ship on its usual voyage, and it would pick us up. .
By all our calculations, we were now opposite the coastline that stretches between the possessions of the Moroccan Sultan and the lands of the Negroes. This is a deserted, deserted region inhabited only by wild animals: the Negroes, fearing the Moors, left it and went further south, and the Moors found it unprofitable to populate these barren lands; rather, that those or others were scared away by tigers, lions, leopards and other predators that are found here in myriad numbers. Thus, for the Moors, this region serves only as a hunting ground, to which they go in whole armies, two, three thousand each. It is not surprising, therefore, that for almost a hundred miles we saw only a deserted desert during the day, and at night heard nothing but the howling and roaring of wild animals.
Twice in the daytime it seemed to me that I saw in the distance the Tenerife Peak - the highest peak of Mount Tenerife, in the Canary Islands. I even tried to turn into the sea in the hope of getting there, but both times a contrary wind and strong seas, dangerous to my fragile boat, forced me to turn back, so in the end I decided not to deviate any more from my original plan and keep along the coast.
After we left the mouth of the river, we had to land a few more times on the shore to replenish fresh water. Early one morning we anchored under the protection of a fairly high promontory; The tide was just beginning, and we were waiting for its full strength to come closer to the shore. Suddenly Xuri, who evidently had sharper eyes than mine, called me softly and said that it would be better for us to move away from the shore.
“Look, what a monster over there on the hill is fast asleep.
I looked where he was pointing, and indeed I saw a monster. It was a huge lion, lying on the slope of the shore in the shadow of an overhanging rock.
“Xuri,” I said, “go ashore and kill him.
The boy got scared.
- Should I kill him? he said. He will eat me in one gulp. - He wanted to say - in one gulp.
I did not object, but ordered only not to move, and, taking the largest gun, almost equal in caliber to a musket, I loaded it with two pieces of lead and a fair amount of gunpowder; into another I rolled two large bullets, and into the third (we had three guns) five smaller bullets. Taking the first gun and taking good aim at the beast's head, I fired; but he lay with his muzzle covered with his paw, and the charge hit him in the front paw and broke the bone above the knee. The beast jumped up with a growl, but, feeling pain, immediately fell down, then again rose on three legs and let out such a terrible roar as I had never heard in my life. I was a little surprised that I did not hit the head, however, without a moment's delay, I took the second gun and shot after the beast, as it hobbled quickly away from the shore; this time the charge hit right on target. I was pleased to see how the lion fell and, making some faint sounds, began to writhe in the fight against death. Then Xuri plucked up courage and began to ask for ashore.
“All right, go ahead,” I said.
The boy jumped into the water and swam to the shore, working with one hand and holding a gun in the other. Coming close to the prostrate beast, he put the muzzle of his gun to its ear and fired, finishing the beast.
The game was noble, but inedible, and I was very sorry that we had wasted three charges. But Xuri announced that he would profit from something from the killed lion, and when we returned to the launch, he asked me for an ax.
Why do you need an ax? I asked.
“Cut off his head,” Xuri replied. However, he could not cut off the head, but cut off only a paw, which he brought with him. She was of monstrous proportions.
Then it occurred to me that maybe we could use the skin of a lion, and I decided to try to take it off. Xuri and I approached the lion, but I didn't know how to get down to business. Xuri was much more dexterous than me. This work took us all day. At last the skin was removed; we stretched it out on the roof of our cabin; two days later the sun dried it properly, and afterwards it served me as a bed.
After this stop, we continued to head south for another ten or twelve days, trying as economically as possible to spend our reserves, which began to melt quickly, and went ashore only for fresh water. I wanted to get to the mouths of the Gambia or Senegal, in other words, to approach Verde Verde, where I hoped to meet some European vessel: I knew that if this did not happen, I would either have to wander in search of the islands, or die here among the Negroes. I knew that all European ships, wherever they go - to the coast of Guinea, to Brazil or to the East Indies - pass by Cape Verde or the islands of the same name; in a word, I put my whole fate on this card, realizing that either I would meet a European ship, or I would die.
And so, for another ten days, I continued to strive towards this single goal. Gradually, I began to notice that the coast was inhabited: in two or three places, passing by, we saw people on the shore who stared at us. We could also discern that they were pitch black and completely naked. Once I wanted to go ashore to them, but Xuri, my wise adviser, said: "Don't go, don't go." Nevertheless, I began to keep closer to the shore so that I could enter into conversation with them. They must have understood my intention and ran for a long time along the coast for our longboat. I noticed that they were not armed, except for one who held a long, thin stick in his hand. Xuri told me that it was a spear, and that the savages throw their spears very far and remarkably well; so I kept a little distance from them and, as best I could, communicated with them by signs, trying mainly to make them understand that we needed food. They signaled to me that I should stop the boat and that they would bring us meat. As soon as I lowered the sail and drifted, two blacks ran somewhere and in half an hour or less brought back two pieces of jerky and a little grain of some local cereal. We did not know what kind of meat it was and what kind of grain, but we expressed our full readiness to accept both. But here we are at a dead end: how to get all this? We did not dare to go ashore, being afraid of the savages, and they, in turn, were afraid of us no less. Finally, they came up with a way out of this difficulty, equally safe for both sides: having piled grain and meat on the shore, they moved away and stood motionless until we had transported it all to the longboat, and then returned to their original place.
We thanked them with signs, because we had nothing else to thank. But at that very moment we had an opportunity to render them a great service. We were still standing near the shore, when suddenly two huge beasts ran out from the direction of the mountains and rushed to the sea. One of them, it seemed to us, was chasing the other: whether it was a male chasing a female, whether they were playing with each other or squabbling, we could not make out, just as we could not say whether this was a common occurrence in those places or exceptional case; I think, however, that the latter was more correct, since, firstly, predatory animals are rarely shown during the day, and secondly, we noticed that people on the shore, especially women, were very frightened ... Only a person holding a spear or a dart, stayed in place; the rest started to run. But the animals rushed straight to the sea and did not intend to attack the blacks. They threw themselves into the water and began to swim, as if bathing was the only purpose of their appearance. Suddenly one of them swam quite close to the longboat. I didn't expect it; nevertheless, having hastily loaded my gun and ordered Xuri to load both others, I prepared to meet the predator. As soon as he got within rifle range, I pulled the trigger and the bullet hit him right in the head; he instantly plunged into the water, then emerged and swam back to the shore, now disappearing under water, then reappearing on the surface. Apparently, he was in agony - he choked on water and blood from a mortal wound and, not having swum a little to the shore, died.
It is impossible to convey how amazed the poor savages were when they heard the crack and saw the fire of a rifle shot; some of them almost died of fright and fell to the ground as if dead. But, seeing that the beast had gone to the bottom and that I was making signs to them to come closer, they took courage and went into the water to pull out the killed beast. I found him by the bloody spots on the water and, throwing a rope over him, threw the end of her negroes, and they pulled her to the shore. The animal turned out to be a leopard of a rare breed with a spotted skin of extraordinary beauty. The Negroes, standing over him, raised their hands in amazement; they couldn't understand what I killed him with.
The second animal, frightened by the fire and the crackle of my shot, jumped ashore and fled into the mountains; because of the distance, I could not make out what kind of animal it was. Meanwhile, I realized that the Negroes want to eat the meat of a dead leopard; I willingly left it to them as a gift and showed them by signs that they could take it for themselves. They expressed their gratitude in every possible way and, wasting no time, set to work. Although they did not have knives, however, acting with sharpened pieces of wood, they skinned a dead animal as quickly and deftly as we would not have done this with a knife. They offered me meat, but I refused, explaining by signs that I was giving it to them, and asked only for the skin, which they gave me very willingly. In addition, they brought me a new supply of provisions, much larger than before, and I took it, although I did not know what supplies they were. Then I made signs to them for water, holding out one of our jugs, I turned it upside down to show that it was empty and that it needed to be filled. They immediately shouted something to their own. A little later, two women appeared with a large vessel of water made of baked (probably in the sun) clay and left it on the shore, as well as provisions. I sent Xuri with all of our jugs and he filled all three with water. The women were completely naked, as were the men.
Having thus stocked up on water, roots and grain, I parted from the hospitable Negroes and for another eleven days continued my journey in the same direction, without approaching the shore. At last, fifteen miles ahead, I saw a narrow strip of land jutting out into the sea. The weather was calm, and I turned into the open sea to go around this spit. At the moment when we came up with its extremity, I clearly distinguished another strip of land about two miles from the coast on the ocean side and concluded quite thoroughly that the narrow spit is Cape Verde, and the strip of land is the islands of the same name. But they were very far away, and, not daring to go towards them, I did not know what to do. I understood that if a fresh wind caught me, then I, perhaps, would not swim to either the island or the cape.
Puzzling over this dilemma, I sat down for a minute in the cabin, leaving Xuri to steer, when suddenly I heard him cry: “Master! Master! Sail! Ship!" The stupid boy was scared to death, imagining that it must be one of his master's ships sent after us; but I knew how far we had gone from the Moors, and I was sure that we could not be threatened by this danger. I jumped out of the cabin and immediately not only saw the ship, but even determined that it was Portuguese and was heading, as I at first decided, to the shores of Guinea for the Negroes. But, looking more closely, I was convinced that the ship was going in a different direction and did not think of turning to the land. Then I raised all the sails and turned to the open sea, determined to do everything possible to enter into negotiations with him.
However, I soon became convinced that, even if we were going at full speed, we would not have time to get close to it and that it would pass by before we had time to give it a signal; we were exhausted; but, when I almost despaired, we were obviously seen from the ship through a telescope and mistaken for the boat of some sunken European vessel. The ship lowered her sails to let us approach. I perked up. We had a stern flag on the longboat from our former master's ship, and I began to wave this flag as a sign that we were in distress, and, in addition, fired a gun. On the ship they saw a flag and smoke from a shot (they did not hear the shot itself); the ship lay adrift, waiting for our approach, and three hours later we moored to it.
I was asked in Portuguese, Spanish and French who I was, but I did not know any of these languages. At last a sailor, a Scot, spoke to me in English, and I explained to him that I was an Englishman and had fled from the Moors from Sale, where I was kept in captivity. Then my companion and I were invited to the ship with all our cargo and received very kindly.
It is easy to imagine with what inexpressible joy the consciousness of freedom filled me after that disastrous and almost hopeless situation in which I found myself. I immediately offered all my possessions to the captain in gratitude for my deliverance, but he generously refused, saying that he would not take anything from me and that everything would be returned to me intact as soon as we arrived in Brazil.
“In saving your life,” he added, “I will do to you just as I would like to be done to me if I were in your place. And this can always happen. Besides, we will take you to Brazil, which is very far from your homeland, and you will starve to death there if I take everything you have. Why then did I have to save you? No, no, sir inglese (that is, an Englishman), I will take you as a gift to Brazil, and your property will enable you to live there and pay for the passage to your homeland.
The captain was generous not only in words but also in deeds. He ordered that none of the sailors should dare to touch my property, then he made a detailed inventory of it and took it all under his supervision, and handed over the inventory to me so that later, upon arrival in Brazil, I could get every thing, up to three clay jugs.
As for my launch, the captain, seeing that it was very good, said that he would gladly buy it for his ship, and asked how much I wanted to get for it. To which I replied that he had treated me so generously in all respects that I would by no means set a price for my boat, but leave it entirely to him. Then he said that he would give me a written undertaking to pay for it eighty silver "octals" in Brazil, but that if someone offered me more when I arrived there, then he would give me more. He also offered me sixty eights for the Xuri boy. I was very reluctant to take this money, and not because I was afraid to give the boy to the captain, but because I was sorry to sell the freedom of the poor fellow who had so devotedly helped me to get it myself. I put all these considerations to the captain, and he acknowledged their validity, but advised not to refuse the deal, saying that he would give the boy an undertaking to release him into the wild in ten years if he converted to Christianity. This changed the matter, and since, moreover, Xuri himself expressed a desire to go to the captain, I gave him up.
Our passage to Brazil was accomplished quite safely, and after a twenty-two days' voyage we entered the Gulf of Todos los Santos, in other words, the Gulf of All Saints. So once again I was delivered from the most miserable situation in which a person can fall, and now it remained for me to decide what to do with myself.
I will never forget how generous the captain of the Portuguese ship was to me. He took nothing from me for the journey, returned all my things to me in the most careful manner, gave me twenty ducats for a leopard skin and forty for a lion skin, and bought everything I wanted to sell, including a case of wines, two guns and the rest of the wax. (part of it went to our candles). In a word, I bailed out about two hundred "eights" and with this capital went ashore in Brazil.
Soon the captain took me to the house of one of his acquaintances, a man as kind and honest as himself. He was the owner of "ingenyo", that is, according to the local name, a sugar cane plantation and a sugar factory attached to it. I lived with him for quite a long time and through this I got acquainted with the culture of sugar cane and sugar production. Seeing how well the planters live and how quickly they grow rich, I decided to apply for permission to settle here permanently in order to take up this business myself. At the same time, I tried to think of some way to get out of London the money I had there. When I succeeded in obtaining Brazilian citizenship, I bought a plot of uncultivated land with all my available money and began to plan my future plantation and estate, in accordance with the amount of money that I expected to receive from England.
I had a neighbor, a Portuguese from Lisbon, an Englishman by origin, by the name of Wells. He was in approximately the same conditions as me. I call him neighbor because his plantation was adjacent to mine and we were on the most friendly terms. I, like him, had very little working capital, and for the first two years we both could hardly subsist on our plantations. But, as the land was cultivated, we grew richer, so that in the third year part of our land was planted with tobacco, and we cut up a large plot for sugar cane by the next year. But both of us needed working hands, and then it became clear to me how unwise I had acted in parting with the Xuri boy.
But alas! I have never been wiser, and it is not surprising that I calculated so badly this time too. Now I had no choice but to continue in the same spirit. I forced a business around my neck, for which I never had a soul, just the opposite of the life I dreamed of, for the sake of which I left my parents' house and neglected my father's advice. Moreover, I myself came to that golden mean, to that highest stage of modest existence, which my father advised me to choose and which I could achieve with the same success, remaining in my homeland and not tiring myself of wandering around the wide world. How often did I tell myself now that I could do the same in England, living among friends, without going five thousand miles from my homeland to foreigners and savages, to a wild country where even the news of those parts of the world where I am little known!
Such are the bitter thoughts about my fate that I indulged in Brazil. Apart from my neighbour, the planter, with whom I occasionally saw, I had no one to exchange a word with; I had to do all the work with my own hands, and I used to constantly repeat that I was living on an uninhabited island, and complained that there was not a single human soul around. How justly fate punished me, when afterwards it really threw me on a desert island, and how useful it would be for each of us, comparing our present situation with another, even worse, to remember that Providence can at any moment make an exchange and show us to experience how happy we were before! Yes, I repeat, fate punished me according to merit when it doomed me to that really lonely life on a desolate island, with which I so unfairly compared my then life, which, if I had had the patience to continue the work I had begun, would probably have led me to wealth. and prosperity.
My plans to continue carving up the plantation had already taken on some definiteness by the time my benefactor, the captain who picked me up at sea, was due to sail back to his homeland (his ship lay in Brazil for about three months while he prepared new cargo for the return trip). And so, when I told him that I had a small capital left in London, he gave me the following friendly and frank advice.
“Señor inglese,” he always called me, “give me a formal power of attorney and write to the person in London who is keeping your money. Write that they buy goods for you there, such as are sold in these parts, and send them to Lisbon, to the address that I will indicate to you; and I, if God wills, will return and deliver them to you intact. But since human affairs are subject to all kinds of vicissitudes and troubles, if I were you, I would take for the first time only a hundred pounds sterling, that is, half of your capital. Take that risk first. If this money returns to you with a profit, you can put the rest of the capital into circulation in the same way, and if it disappears, then at least you will have at least something in reserve.
The advice was so good and so friendly that it seemed to me that no better could be imagined, and I had only to follow it. Therefore, I did not hesitate to give the captain a power of attorney, as he wished, and prepared letters to the widow of an English captain, to whom I had once given my money to keep.
I described to her all my adventures in detail: I told her how I got into captivity, how I escaped, how I met a Portuguese ship at sea, and how the captain treated me humanely. In conclusion, I described my present position to her and gave the necessary instructions regarding the purchase of goods for me. My friend the captain, immediately upon his arrival in Lisbon, through English merchants sent to London an order for goods to a local merchant, attaching to him detailed description my adventures. The London merchant immediately handed over both letters to the widow of the English captain, and she not only gave him the required amount, but also sent a rather tidy sum from herself to the Portuguese captain in the form of a gift for his humane and sympathetic attitude towards me.
Having bought all my hundred pounds of English goods at the direction of my friend the captain, the London merchant sent them to him in Lisbon, and he delivered them safely to me in Brazil. Among other things, he already on his own initiative (for I was so new in my business that it did not even occur to me) brought me all kinds of agricultural implements, as well as all kinds of household utensils. These were all things necessary for work on the plantation, and they were all very useful to me.
When my shipment arrived, I was overjoyed and considered my future secure from now on. My good guardian, the captain, among other things, brought me a worker, whom he hired with an obligation to serve me for six years. For this purpose, he spent his own five pounds, received as a gift from my patroness, the widow of an English captain. He flatly refused any compensation, and I persuaded him only to accept a small bale of tobacco grown by me.
And that was not all. Since all my goods consisted of English manufactures - linen, baize, cloth, in general, things that were especially appreciated and required in this country, I was able to sell them at a big profit; in a word, when everything was sold out, my capital quadrupled. By this I was far ahead of my poor neighbor in the development of the plantation, for my first business after the sale of goods was to buy a Negro slave and hire another European worker, in addition to the one brought to me by the captain from Lisbon.
But the misuse of material goods is often the surest way to the greatest misfortunes. So it was with me. The following year I continued to cultivate my plantation with great success, and collected fifty bales of tobacco, over and above what I gave to my neighbors in exchange for necessaries. All these fifty bales, weighing more than a hundred pounds each, lay dried with me, quite ready for the arrival of ships from Lisbon. So my business grew; but, as I got richer, my head was filled with plans and projects that were completely unrealizable with the means at my disposal: in short, these were projects of the kind that often ruin the best businessmen.
If I had remained in the field I myself had chosen, I would probably have waited for those joys of life that my father so convincingly spoke to me about as constant companions of a quiet, solitary existence of an average social position. But a different fate was prepared for me: as before, I was destined to be the cause of all my misfortunes. And, as if to aggravate my guilt and add bitterness to the reflection on my fate, for which in my sad future I was given too much leisure, all my failures were caused by my exclusive passion for wandering, which I indulged in with reckless obstinacy, while The bright future of a useful and happy life opened before me, as soon as I continued what I started, took advantage of those worldly blessings that Nature and Providence so generously lavished on me, and did my duty.
As once, when I ran away from my parental home, so now I could not be satisfied with the present. I gave up my prospects for my future well-being, perhaps the wealth that work on the plantation would bring - and all because I was overcome by a burning desire to get rich sooner than circumstances would allow. Thus I plunged myself into the deepest abyss of misfortune, into which probably no man has yet fallen, and from which one can scarcely emerge alive and well.
I turn now to the details of this part of my adventures. Having lived in Brazil for almost four years and greatly increased my wealth, I, of course, not only learned the local language, but also made great acquaintances with my neighbors - planters, as well as with merchants from San Salvador, the port city closest to us. . Meeting with them, I often told them about my two trips to the coast of Guinea, about how trade is carried out with the Negroes there and how easy it is there for a trifle - for some beads, toys, knives, scissors, axes, glass and the like. little things - to acquire not only gold dust and ivory and so on, but even in in large numbers Negro slaves to work in Brazil.
They listened to my stories very attentively, especially when it came to buying Negroes. At that time, it should be noted, the slave trade was very limited, and it required the so-called "aciento", that is, permission from the Spanish or Portuguese king; therefore, there were few Negro slaves and they were extremely expensive.
Once a large company gathered: I and several people of my acquaintances - planters and merchants, and we were talking animatedly on this topic. The next morning, three of my interlocutors came to me and announced that, having thought carefully about what I had told them the day before, they had come to me with a secret proposal. Then, taking my word that everything I hear from them will remain between us, they said that they all have plantations, like me, and that they need nothing more than working hands. . That is why they want to equip a ship to Guinea for the Negroes. But as the slave trade is difficult and it will be impossible for them to openly sell the Negroes on their return to Brazil, they think of limiting themselves to one voyage, bringing the Negroes secretly, and then dividing them among themselves for their plantations. The question was whether I would agree to go on board with them as a ship's clerk, that is, to take over the purchase of Negroes in Guinea. They offered me the same number of Negroes as others, and I did not have to invest a penny in this enterprise.
There is no denying the temptation of this offer if it were made to a person who did not have his own plantation: it needed supervision, considerable capital was invested in it, and in time it promised to bring a large income. But for me, the owner of such a plantation, who would only have to continue for another three or four years, having extorted the rest of my money from England - with this small additional capital, my fortune would reach three or four thousand pounds sterling and continue to grow - for It was the greatest folly of me to contemplate such a journey.
But I was destined to become the culprit of my own death. As before I had been unable to overcome my vagabond inclinations and my father's good advice was in vain, so now I could not resist the offer made to me. In short, I replied to the planters that I would be happy to go to Guinea if, in my absence, they would take charge of my property and dispose of it according to my instructions in case I did not return. They solemnly promised me this, having sealed our contract with a written commitment, but I, for my part, made a formal will in the event of my death: I refused my plantation and movable property to the Portuguese captain who saved my life, but with the proviso that he take only half of my personal property, and sent the rest to England.
In a word, I took every measure to preserve my personal property and maintain order on my plantation. If I had exercised even the slightest measure of such wise foresight in the matter of my own advantage, had I made an equally clear judgment about what I should and what I should not do, I probably would never have abandoned such a well-begun and promising enterprise, would not have neglected with such favorable prospects of success, and would not have embarked on a sea that is inseparable from danger and risk, not to mention the fact that I had special reasons to expect all sorts of troubles from the forthcoming voyage.
But I was hurried, and I blindly obeyed the suggestions of my imagination, and not the voice of reason. So, the ship was equipped, loaded with suitable goods, and everything was arranged by mutual agreement of the expedition members. At an unfortunate hour, September 1, 1659, I boarded the ship. It was the same day on which, eight years ago, I ran away from my father and mother in Hull, the day I rebelled against parental authority and so unwisely disposed of my fate.
Our ship was about one hundred and twenty tons; it had six guns and fourteen crew members, not counting the captain, cabin boy, and me. We didn't have a heavy load; all of it consisted of various small things, which are usually used for barter with negroes: scissors, knives, axes, mirrors, glass, shells, beads, and similar cheap things.
As already said, I boarded the ship on September 1, and on the same day we weighed anchor. First we headed north along the coast, expecting to turn towards the African mainland when we got to the tenth or twelfth degree of north latitude: such was the ordinary course of ships in those days. As long as we kept to our coasts, as far as Cape St. Augustine, the weather was fine, it was only too hot. From Cape St. Augustine, we turned into the open sea, as if we were heading for the island of Fernando di Noronha, that is, to the northeast, and soon lost sight of the land. Fernando Island remained with us for right hand. After a twelve-day voyage, we crossed the equator and were, according to the latest observations, at 7 ° 22 "North latitude, when suddenly a fierce tornado, that is, a hurricane, flew at us. It began from the southeast, then went in the opposite direction and finally blew from the north -east with such terrifying force that for twelve days we could only rush along the wind and, surrendering to the will of fate, sail where the fury of the elements drove us. Needless to say, all these twelve days I hourly expected death, and no one on the ship did not expect to stay alive.
But our troubles were not limited to the fear of a storm: one of our sailors died of tropical fever, and two - a sailor and a cabin boy - were washed off the deck. On the twelfth day the storm began to subside, and the captain made as accurate a calculation as possible. It turned out that we are located approximately at 11 ° north latitude, but that carried us 22 ° west of Cape St. Augustine. We were now not far from the coast of Guiana or northern Brazil, above the Amazon and closer to the Orinoco River, better known in those parts as the Great River. The captain asked for my advice as to where we should head. In view of the fact that the ship leaked and was hardly suitable for further navigation, he thought it best to turn back to the coast of Brazil.
But I resolutely rebelled against it. In the end, having examined the maps of the coasts of America, we came to the conclusion that as far as the Caribbean islands we would not meet a single inhabited country where help could be found. We therefore decided to set a course for Barbados, which we estimated could be reached in two weeks, as we would have to deviate a little from the direct route in order to avoid the current of the Gulf of Mexico. About the same, to go to the shores of Africa, there could be no question: our ship needed to be repaired, and the crew needed to be replenished.
In view of the foregoing, we changed course and began to keep to the west-north-west. We expected to reach some of the islands belonging to England, and get help there. But fate judged otherwise. When we reached 12 ° 18 "North latitude, a second storm swept over us. As swiftly as the first time, we rushed west and found ourselves far from the trade routes, so that even if we had not died from the fury of the waves, we still had almost no hope of returning to our homeland and we would most likely have been eaten by savages.
Once early in the morning, when we were in such poverty - the wind still did not give up - one of the sailors shouted: "Land!" - but before we had time to jump out of the cabin in the hope of finding out where we were, the ship ran aground. At the same moment, from a sudden stop, the water rushed onto the deck with such force that we already considered ourselves dead; We rushed headlong down into the enclosed spaces, where we hid from splashes and foam.
It is difficult for anyone who has not been in a similar situation to imagine how desperate we have come. We didn't know where we were, what land we were nailed to, whether it was an island or a mainland, inhabited land or not. And as the storm continued to rage, albeit with less force, we did not even hope that our ship would hold out for several minutes without breaking into splinters: unless by some miracle the wind suddenly changed. In a word, we sat looking at each other and every minute expecting death, and each prepared for the transition to another world, because in this world we had nothing to do. Our only consolation was that, contrary to all expectations, the ship was still intact, and the captain said that the wind was beginning to die down.
But although it seemed to us that the wind had died down a little, yet the ship had run aground so thoroughly that there was no reason to think of moving it, and in this desperate situation we could only take care to save our lives at any cost. We had two boats; one hung astern, but during a storm it was smashed against the rudder, and then torn off and sunk or blown into the sea. We had nothing to rely on her. There was another boat left, but how to launch it? The task seemed insurmountable. And meanwhile it was impossible to linger: the ship could break in two at any moment; some even said that it had already cracked.
At this critical moment, the captain's mate approached the lifeboat and, with the help of the rest of the crew, threw her over the side; all of us, eleven people, got into the boat, put off and, entrusting ourselves to the mercy of God, gave ourselves up to the will of the raging waves; although the storm had subsided considerably, terrible waves still ran up to the coast and the sea could rightly be called den wild zee - wild sea, as the Dutch say.
Our situation was truly deplorable: we clearly saw that the boat could not withstand such excitement and that we would inevitably sink. We couldn’t go on a sail: we didn’t have one, and anyway it would be useless to us. We rowed ashore with a heavy heart, like people going to execution, we all knew perfectly well that as soon as the boat came closer to the land, it would be blown into a thousand pieces by the surf. And, driven by the wind and current, betraying our soul to the mercy of God, we leaned on the oars, with our own hands bringing the moment of our death closer.
Whether the coast was rocky or sandy, steep or sloping, we did not know. Our only hope of salvation was the faint possibility of getting into some cove, or bay, or at the mouth of the river, where the waves were weaker and where we could take refuge under the shore on the windward side. But there was nothing resembling a bay to be seen ahead, and the closer we got to the shore, the more terrible the land seemed, more terrible than the sea itself.
When we got away, or rather, we were carried about four miles from the stuck ship, a huge shaft, the size of a mountain, unexpectedly ran from the stern onto our boat, as if to end our suffering with the last blow. In an instant he overturned our boat. We did not have time to shout: “God!” - how they found themselves under water, far from the boat and from each other.
Nothing can express the turmoil in my thoughts as I plunged into the water. I am an excellent swimmer, but I could not come up to the surface and draw air into my chest until the wave that picked me up, carrying me a fair distance towards the shore, broke up and rushed back, leaving me in a shallow place, half dead from the water, which I swallowed. I had the self-control and strength, seeing the land much closer than I expected, to rise to my feet and start running headlong in the hope of reaching the shore before another wave surged and picked me up, but soon I saw that I could not get away from it: the sea it went uphill and caught up like an angry enemy, against which I had neither the strength nor the means. I could only, holding my breath, emerge onto the crest of the wave and swim to the shore as far as I could. My main concern was to cope as far as possible with the new wave so that, having brought me even closer to the shore, it would not drag me along in its return movement to the sea.
The oncoming wave hid me twenty or thirty feet under the water. I felt how I was picked up and for a long time, with incredible strength and speed, I was carried to the shore. I held my breath and swam with the current, helping him with all my might. I was almost suffocating when I suddenly felt that I was going up; soon, to my great relief, my hands and head were above the water, and although I could not stay on the surface for more than two seconds, I managed to catch my breath, and this gave me strength and courage. I was overwhelmed again, but this time I did not stay under water for so long. When the wave broke and went back, I did not let it carry me back and soon felt the bottom under my feet. I stood for a few seconds to catch my breath, and, gathering the rest of my strength, I again started running headlong towards the shore. But even now I have not yet escaped the fury of the sea: twice more it overtook me, twice it picked me up by a wave and carried everything forward, since in this place the coast was very sloping.
The last wave almost proved fatal for me: having picked me up, he carried me, or rather threw me onto a rock with such force that I lost consciousness and found myself completely helpless: a blow to the side and chest completely knocked my breath away, and if the sea were to take me up again, I would inevitably choke. But I came to my senses just in time: seeing that now a wave would cover me again, I firmly clung to the ledge of the rock and, holding my breath, decided to wait until the wave subsided. Since the waves were not so high closer to the ground, I held out until she left. Then I started running again and found myself so close to the shore that the next wave, although it rolled over me, could no longer swallow me and carry me back to the sea. Having run a little more, I, to my great joy, felt myself on land, climbed the coastal rocks and sank down on the grass. Here I was safe: the sea could not reach me.
Finding myself on the ground safe and sound, I looked up to the sky, thanking God for saving my life, for which, just a few minutes ago, I had almost no hope. I think that there are no words that could describe with sufficient brightness the delight of the human soul, which has risen, so to speak, from the grave, and I am not at all surprised that when the criminal, already with a noose around his neck, at that very moment how he should be hung up on the gallows, a pardon is announced - I repeat, I am not surprised that at the same time a doctor is always present to bleed him, otherwise unexpected joy may shock the pardoned person too much and stop the beating of his heart.
Sudden joy, like grief:
Confuses the mind.
I walked along the shore, raising my hands to the sky and making a thousand other gestures and movements that I cannot even describe. My whole being was, so to speak, absorbed in thoughts of salvation. I thought about my comrades, who all drowned, and that, apart from me, not a single soul was saved; at least I never saw any of them again; there was no trace of them, except for three hats, one sailor's cap and two shoes, besides unpaired ones.
Looking in the direction where our ship was aground, I could hardly see it behind the high surf - it was so far away, and I said to myself: “God! By what miracle could I reach the shore?
Having consoled myself with these thoughts about the safe deliverance from mortal danger, I began to look around to find out where I had ended up and what I should do first of all. My joyful mood immediately fell: I realized that although I was saved, I was not spared from further horrors and troubles. There was no dry thread left on me, there was nothing to change into; I had nothing to eat, I did not even have water to sustain my strength, and in the future I would either die of starvation or be torn to pieces by wild beasts. But worst of all, I had no weapons, so I could neither hunt game for my livelihood, nor defend myself from predators that would take it into their heads to attack me. I had nothing at all but a knife, a pipe, and a box of tobacco. It was all my property. At the thought of this, I fell into such despair that for a long time I ran like a madman along the shore. When night fell, I asked myself with a sinking heart what awaited me if there were predatory animals here, because they always come out to prey at night.
The only thing I could then think of was to climb a thick, branched tree growing nearby, similar to a spruce, but with thorns, and sit on it all night, and when morning comes, decide what death it would be better to die, for I did not see the possibility live in this place. I walked about a quarter of a mile inland to see if there was fresh water, and to my great joy I found a stream. After drinking and putting some tobacco in my mouth to quench my hunger, I returned to the tree, climbed it and tried to arrange myself in such a way that I would not fall down in case I fell asleep. Then, for self-defence, I cut off a short bough like a club, settled myself comfortably in my new “apartment”, and fell asleep from extreme fatigue. I slept as sweetly as I think not many would in my place, and I never awoke from sleep so fresh and awake.
When I awoke it was quite light; the weather cleared, the wind died down, and the sea no longer raged and heaved. But I was extremely struck by the fact that the ship found itself in a different place, almost at the very rock on which the wave hit me so hard: during the night it was lifted from the shallows by the tide and drove here. Now it stood no more than a mile from where I had spent the night, and as it held itself almost straight, I decided to go on it in order to stock up on the most necessary things.
Leaving my "apartment," I climbed down from the tree and looked around once more; the first thing I saw was our boat, lying about two miles to the right, on the shore, where the sea had thrown it. I hurried in that direction, thinking to reach it, but it turned out that the path was blocked by a bay half a mile wide, deeply cutting into the shore. Then I turned back, for it was more important for me to get on the ship as soon as possible, where I hoped to find something to support my existence.
In the afternoon the sea was quite calm, and the tide was so low that I managed to get within a quarter of a mile of the ship. Here I again felt an attack of deep grief, for it became clear to me that if we had not abandoned the ship, then everyone would have remained alive: having waited out the storm, we would have safely crossed to the shore and I would not have been, as now, an unfortunate creature, completely devoid of human society. At this thought, tears came into my eyes, but tears cannot help grief, and I decided to get to the ship anyway. Having undressed (the day was unbearably hot), I entered the water. But when I swam up to the ship, a new difficulty arose: how to climb it? He stood in shallow water, all out, and there was nothing to cling to. Twice I swam around it and the second time I noticed a short rope - it's amazing how it did not immediately catch my eye. It hung so low over the water that, though not without difficulty, I managed to catch its end and climb onto the forecastle of the ship. The ship leaked and the hold was full of water; but it was so bogged down with a keel in a sandy, or rather mudflat, that the stern was raised, and the bow almost touched the water. Thus, the entire aft part was dry, and everything that was there was not affected by the water. I immediately discovered this, because, of course, I first of all wanted to know what of the ship's property was damaged and what survived. It turned out, firstly, that the entire supply of provisions was completely dry, and since I was tormented by hunger, I went to the pantry, stuffed my pockets with crackers and ate them on the go, so as not to lose time. In the wardroom I found a bottle of rum and took a few good sips from it, for I was in great need of refreshment for the work ahead.
First of all, I needed a boat to carry everything that I might need to the shore. However, it was useless to sit back and dream about what could not be obtained. Necessity refines ingenuity, and I quickly set to work. The ship had spare masts, topmasts and yardarms. Of these, I decided to build a raft. I chose a few lighter logs and threw them overboard, tying each one with a rope beforehand so that they would not be carried away. Then I went down from the ship, pulled four logs to me, tightly tied them together at both ends, fastening them on top with two or three short boards laid crosswise. My raft bore the weight of my body perfectly, but was too light for a larger load. Then I set to work again, and with the help of our ship's carpenter's saw, cut the spare mast into three pieces, which I fitted to my raft. This work cost me incredible efforts, but the desire to stock up on everything necessary for life supported me, and I did what under other circumstances I would not have been able to do.
Now my raft was strong enough to bear a fair amount of weight. The first step was to load it and protect my cargo from the surf. I thought about this for a short time. First of all, I put on the raft all the boards that were found on the ship; on these boards I lowered three chests belonging to our sailors, having first broken the locks in them and emptied them. Then, having considered in my mind which of the things I might need the most, I selected these things and filled all three chests with them. In one I put provisions: bread, rice, three rounds of Dutch cheese, five large pieces of dried goat meat, which served as our main food, and the remains of grain for poultry, which we took with us on the ship and had long ago eaten. It was barley mixed with wheat; to my great disappointment, as it turned out later, it turned out to be spoiled by rats. I found several crates of bottles that belonged to our skipper; these included several bottles of spirits and a total of about five or six gallons of dry Spanish wine. I put all these boxes directly on the raft, since they would not fit in the chests, and there was no need to hide them. Meanwhile, while I was busy loading, the tide came up, and, to my great chagrin, I saw that my doublet, shirt and waistcoat, which I had left on the shore, were swept into the sea. Thus, from the dress I only had stockings and trousers (linen and short, to the knees), which I did not take off. This made me think about stocking up on clothes. There were quite a few clothes on the ship, but for the time being I took only what was necessary at the given moment: I was much more tempted by many other things, and above all, working tools. After a long search, I found our carpenter's box, and it was for me a truly precious find, which I would not have given at that time for a whole ship of gold. I put this box on the raft, as it was, without even looking into it, since I knew approximately what tools it contained.
Now I just need to stock up on weapons and ammo. In the wardroom I found two excellent hunting rifles and two pistols, which I carried to the raft, along with a powder flask, a small bag of shot, and two old, rusty sabers. I knew that we had three kegs of gunpowder, but I did not know where our gunner kept them. However, after a good search, I found all three. One turned out to be wet, and two were completely dry, and I dragged them onto the raft along with guns and sabers. Now my raft was sufficiently loaded, and I began to think about how I could get to the shore without a sail, without oars and without a rudder, because the slightest gust of wind was enough to overturn my whole structure.
Three circumstances encouraged me: firstly, the complete absence of excitement at sea; secondly, the tide, which was supposed to drive me to the shore; thirdly, a small breeze, blowing also towards the shore and, therefore, fair. So, finding two or three broken oars from the ship's boat, taking two more saws, an ax and a hammer (besides the tools that were in the box), I set off to sea. For a mile or so my raft was going well; I only noticed that it was carried away from the place where the sea had thrown me the day before. This led me to the idea that there must be a coastal current and that, therefore, I could get into some creek or river, where it would be convenient for me to land with my cargo.
As I expected, it happened. Soon a small cove opened up in front of me, and I was quickly carried towards it. I ruled as best I could, trying to keep to the middle of the current. But here, being completely unfamiliar with the fairway of this bay, I almost suffered a shipwreck a second time, and if this had happened, I really think I would have died of grief. My raft suddenly ran into a sandbank with one edge, and since its other edge did not have a fulcrum, it heeled heavily; a little more, and all my cargo would have moved in this direction and would have fallen into the water. I braced my back and hands against my trunks with all my strength, trying to hold them in place, but I could not push the raft off despite all my efforts. For half an hour, not daring to move, I stood in this position, until the rising water lifted the slightly lowered edge of the raft, and after a while the water rose even higher, and the raft itself went aground. Then I pushed the raft with an oar into the middle of the fairway and, giving myself up to the current, which was very fast here, I finally entered a bay, or rather, at the mouth of a small river with high banks. I began to look around, looking for where it would be better for me to land: I did not want to go too far from the sea, for I hoped someday to see a ship on it, and therefore I decided to settle as close to the coast as possible.
Finally, on the right bank, I spotted a tiny bay, to which I directed my raft. With great difficulty I led it across the current and entered the bay, resting against the bottom with oars. But here again I risked dumping all my cargo: the coast was so steep that if only my raft had run into it with one end, it would inevitably have tilted towards the water with the other, and my luggage would have been in danger. I just had to wait for the full tide. Having looked out for a convenient place where the shore ended in a flat platform, I pushed the raft there and, resting against the bottom with an oar, kept it at anchor; I expected the tide to cover this area with water. And so it happened. When the water had risen sufficiently—my raft was sitting a full foot in the water—I pushed it into the landing, secured it on both sides with oars, thrusting them into the bottom, and began to wait for the ebb. Thus, my raft with all the cargo was on a dry shore.
My next concern was to inspect the surroundings and choose for myself a convenient place to live, protected from all accidents, where I could lay down my belongings. I still did not know where I was: on the mainland or on an island, in a populated or in an uninhabited country; I didn't know if I was in danger from predatory beasts or not. About half a mile away was a hill, steep and high, which seemed to dominate the ridge of hills that stretched to the north. Having taken a hunting rifle, a pistol and a powder flask, I went to reconnoiter. When I climbed to the top of the hill (which cost me considerable effort), my bitter fate became clear to me: I was on an island, the sea stretched on all sides and there was not a sign of land around, except for a few rocks sticking out in the distance and two small islands smaller than mine, lying about ten miles to the west.
I made other discoveries: my island was completely uncultivated and, by all indications, uninhabited. It may be that predatory animals lived on it, but so far I have not seen a single one. On the other hand, there were many birds, but all of unknown breeds, so that later, when I happened to kill game, I could never determine by appearance whether it was suitable for food or not. Coming down the hill, I shot a large bird sitting in a tree at the edge of the forest. I think that this was the first shot that had been heard here since the creation of the world: before I had time to shoot, a cloud of birds soared over the grove: each of them screamed in its own way, but not one of the cries was like the cries known to me. As for the bird I killed, I think it was a variety of our hawk: it very much resembled it in the color of its feathers and the shape of its beak, only its claws were much shorter. Her meat gave off carrion and was not suitable for food.
Satisfied with these discoveries, I returned to the raft and began to drag things ashore. It took me the rest of the day. I didn't know how and where to settle down for the night. I was afraid to lie down directly on the ground, not being sure that some predator would not bite me. It later turned out that these fears were unfounded.
Having outlined a place on the shore for an overnight stay, I blocked it on all sides with chests and boxes, and inside this fence I built something like a hut from planks. As for food, I did not yet know how I would get my own food later on: apart from birds and two animals like our hare, which jumped out of the grove at the sound of my shot, I did not see any living creatures here. But now I was thinking only about how to take from the ship everything that was left there and that could be useful to me, and above all the sails and ropes. So I decided, if nothing would interfere, to take a second voyage to the ship. And since I knew that at the first storm it would be smashed to pieces, I preferred to postpone other matters until I had brought everything I could take ashore. I began to hold a council (with myself, of course) whether I should take a raft. This seemed impractical to me, and, waiting for the ebb, I set off on my way, as for the first time. Only now I undressed in the hut, remaining in one lower checkered shirt, in linen underpants and in shoes on my bare feet.
Like the first time, I climbed onto the ship by rope; then built a new raft. But, wiser by experience, I made it not as clumsy as the first, and not so heavily loaded. However, I still carried a lot of useful things on it. Firstly, everything that was found in the stocks of our carpenter, namely: two or three bags of nails (large and small), a screwdriver, a dozen or two axes, and most importantly, such a useful thing as a whetstone. Then I took a few things from our gunner's warehouse, including three scrap iron, two barrels of rifle bullets, seven muskets, another hunting rifle and some gunpowder, then a large bag of shot and a bundle of sheet lead. However, the latter turned out to be so heavy that I did not have the strength to lift and lower it onto the raft.
In addition to these things, I took from the ship all the clothes I could find, and I also took a spare sail, a hanging bunk and several mattresses and pillows. All this I loaded onto a raft and, to my great pleasure, brought it to the shore in one piece.
Going to the ship, I was a little afraid that in my absence some predators would not destroy my food supplies. But, returning to the shore, I did not notice any traces of uninvited guests. Only on one of the chests sat some kind of animal, very similar to a wild cat. At my approach, he ran aside and stopped, then sat down on his hind legs quite calmly, without any fear, looked me straight in the eyes, as if expressing a desire to get to know me. I aimed my rifle at him, but this movement was obviously incomprehensible to him; he was not at all frightened, he did not even move. Then I threw him a piece of biscuit, although I could not be very extravagant, since my provisions were very small. Nevertheless, I gave him this piece. He came up, sniffed it, ate it, licked his lips and waited with a satisfied look for a second treat, but I thanked him for the honor and gave him nothing more; then he left.
Having brought my second load ashore, I wanted to open the heavy kegs of gunpowder and move it in parts, but I set about building a tent first. I made it from a sail and poles, which I cut in a grove for this purpose. I moved into the tent everything that could be spoiled by the sun and rain, and around it I piled empty boxes and barrels in case of a sudden attack by people or animals.
I blocked the entrance to the tent from the outside with a large chest, placing it sideways, and from the inside I laid boards. Then he spread out a bed on the ground, put two pistols in their heads, a gun next to the mattress, and lay down. I spent the first night in bed since the day of the shipwreck. From exhaustion, I slept until the morning like a log, and no wonder: the previous night I hardly slept, and worked all day, first loading things from the ship to the raft, and then ferrying them ashore.
No one, I think, arranged for himself such a huge warehouse as was arranged by me. But everything was not enough for me: as long as the ship was intact and stood in the same place, as long as there was at least one thing left on it that I could use, I considered it necessary to replenish my supplies. Every day at low tide I went to the ship and brought something with me. My third trip was especially successful. I dismantled all the gear, took with me all the small rigging (and the cable and twine that could fit on the raft). I also took a large piece of spare canvas, which served us for repairing sails, and a keg of soaked gunpowder, which I had left on the ship. In the end, I brought all the sails to the shore to the last; only I had to cut them into pieces and transport them piece by piece; they were no longer useful as sails, and all their value to me lay in the canvas.
But here's what made me even happier. After five or six such expeditions, when I thought that there was nothing else to profit on the ship, I unexpectedly found in the hold a large tub of rusk, three casks of rum or spirits, a case of sugar, and a cask of excellent flour. It was a pleasant surprise: I no longer expected to find any provisions on the ship, being sure that all the supplies left there were wet. I took the crackers out of the barrel and transferred them to the raft piece by piece, wrapping them in canvas. All this I managed to safely deliver to the shore.
The next day I took another trip. Now, having taken from the ship absolutely all the things that one person could lift, I set to work on the ropes. I cut each rope into pieces of such a size that it would not be too difficult for me to manage them, and I transported two ropes and mooring lines to the shore. In addition, I took from the ship all the iron parts that I could separate. Then, having cut off the remaining yards, I built a larger raft from them, loaded all these heavy things on it, and set off on my way back. But this time my luck changed: my raft was so clumsy and so heavily loaded that it was very difficult for me to manage it. Entering the cove where my other possessions were unloaded, I failed to navigate it as skilfully as before: the raft capsized, and I fell into the water with all my cargo. As for me, the trouble was not great, since it happened almost at the very shore, but my cargo, at least a significant part of it, was lost, the main thing was iron, which would be very useful to me and which I especially regretted. However, when the water subsided, I pulled almost all the pieces of rope and a few pieces of iron ashore, although with great difficulty: I was forced to dive for each piece, and this made me very tired. In the future, my visits to the ship were repeated daily, and each time I brought new booty.
For thirteen days I have lived on the island and during this time I have been on the ship eleven times, having transported to the shore absolutely everything that a pair of human hands is able to drag. If the calm weather had lasted longer, I am convinced that I could have carried the whole ship in pieces, but, making preparations for the twelfth voyage, I noticed that the wind was picking up. Nevertheless, after waiting for the ebb, I went to the ship. I had already searched our cabin so thoroughly that it seemed impossible to find anything there; but then I noticed a cabinet with two drawers: in one I found two or three razors, large scissors, and a dozen good forks and knives; the other contained money—about thirty-six pounds, part European, part Brazilian silver and gold.
I smiled at the sight of this money. “Useless rubbish,” I said, “why do I need you now? You're not even worth it to bend down and pick you up off the floor. I am ready to give all this heap of gold for any of these knives. I have nothing to do with you. So stay where you are, go to the bottom of the sea, like a creature whose life is not worth saving!” However, on reflection, I nevertheless took the money with me; and wrapping them in a piece of canvas, he began to think about how to build another raft. But while I was getting ready, the sky grew gloomy, the wind blowing from the shore began to grow stronger, and in a quarter of an hour it was completely fresh. With a coastal wind, I would not need a raft; besides, I had to hurry to get to the shore before a big excitement began, otherwise I would not have got on it at all. I wasted no time in diving into the water and swimming. Either because of the weight of the things that were on me, or because I had to fight against the oncoming current, I barely had the strength to swim across the strip of water that separated the ship from my cove. The wind grew stronger every minute and even before the low tide turned into a real storm.
But by this time I was already at home, safe, with all my wealth, and lying in a tent. The storm roared all night, and when I looked out of the tent in the morning, there was no sign of the ship! At first this struck me unpleasantly, but I was comforted by the thought that, without wasting time and sparing no effort, I got out everything that could be useful to me; even if I had more time at my disposal, I would have almost nothing to take from the ship.
So, I no longer thought about the ship, nor about the things that still remained on it. True, after the storm, some debris could have been washed ashore. So it then happened. But all this was of little use to me.
My thoughts were now completely absorbed in how I could protect myself from savages, if any, and from animals, if they are found on the island. I thought for a long time how to achieve this and what kind of housing I should arrange: should I dig a cave in the ground or put up a tent on the ground? In the end, I decided to do both and I think it would be useful to talk about my work and describe my home.
I soon became convinced that the place I had chosen on the coast was not suitable for settlement: it was a lowland, near the sea, with marshy soil and probably unhealthy, but most importantly, there was no fresh water nearby. So I decided to look elsewhere, healthier and more comfortable to live in.
At the same time, I had to comply with certain conditions necessary in my position. First, my dwelling should be located in a healthy area and near fresh water; secondly, it should cover from the heat of the sun; thirdly, it must be protected from the attack of predators, both bipedal and quadrupedal, and finally, fourthly, the sea must be visible from it, so that I will not miss the opportunity to be saved if God sends any ship, for I cannot I wanted to give up hope of redemption.
After quite a long search, I finally found a small, flat clearing on the slope of a high hill, under a steep cliff, like a wall, so that nothing threatened me from above. There was a small depression in this steep wall, as if the entrance to a cave, but there was no further cave or entrance to the rock.
It was on this green clearing, near the very recess, that I decided to pitch my tent. The site was not more than a hundred yards wide and two hundred yards long, so that in front of my dwelling it was like a lawn, at the end of which the hill descended in irregular ledges into the lowland, to the seashore. This corner was located on the northwestern slope of the hill. Thus, he was in the shade all day until evening, when the sun moves to the southwest, that is, it is nearing sunset (I mean, in those latitudes).
Before pitching the tent, I drew a semi-circle in front of the depression, with a radius of ten yards, therefore twenty yards in diameter.
Then, around the entire semicircle, I stuffed strong stakes in two rows, firmly, like piles, driving them into the ground. I sharpened the tops of the stakes. My stockade was about five and a half feet high; I left no more than six inches of free space between the two rows of stakes.
I filled all this gap between the stakes to the very top with pieces of rope taken from the ship, laying them in rows one after another, and from the inside I strengthened the fence with supports, for which I prepared stakes thicker and shorter (about two and a half feet long). The fence came out strong for me: neither man nor beast could climb through it, nor climb over it. This work required a lot of time and labor from me; it was especially difficult to cut stakes in the forest, drag them to the construction site and drive them into the ground.
To enter this enclosed place, I did not arrange a door, but a short staircase through the palisade; entering my room, I removed the ladder and in this fortification I felt myself firmly fenced off from the outside world and slept peacefully at night, which, under other conditions, it seemed to me, would be impossible; however, it later turned out that there was no need to take so many precautions against the enemies created by my imagination.
With incredible difficulty, I dragged to my fence, or to the fortress, all my wealth: provisions, weapons, and the other things listed above. Then I pitched a big tent in it. In order to shelter from the rains, which are very strong in tropical countries at certain times of the year, I made a double tent, that is, first I pitched one tent, smaller, and above it I put another, larger one, which I covered from above with a tarpaulin, captured by me from the ship along with sails.
Now I no longer slept on a bedding thrown directly on the ground, but on a comfortable hanging bunk that belonged to our captain's assistant. I brought provisions and everything that could be spoiled by rain into the tent, and only when my goods were hidden inside the fence, I tightly sealed up the hole through which I entered and exited, and began to use the ladder.
Having repaired the fence, I began to dig a cave in the mountain. I dragged the dug stones and earth through the tent into the courtyard and made a kind of mound of them inside the fence, so that the soil in the courtyard rose a foot and a half. The cave was just behind the tent and served as my cellar.
It took many days and a lot of work to complete all this work. During this time, many other things occupied my thoughts and there were several incidents that I want to tell about. One day, when I was preparing to put up a tent and dig a cave, suddenly pouring rain poured from a large dark cloud. Then lightning flashed and there was a terrible roll of thunder. This, of course, was not unusual, and it was not so much the lightning itself that frightened me, but the thought that flashed through my brain faster than lightning: “My gunpowder!” My heart sank when I thought that all my gunpowder could be destroyed by one lightning strike, and after all, not only my safety, but also the ability to get food for myself depended on it. It never occurred to me what danger I myself was exposed to in the event of an explosion, although if the gunpowder had exploded, I probably would never have known about it.
This incident made such a strong impression on me that, as soon as the thunderstorm stopped, I put aside for the time being all the work on the arrangement and strengthening of my dwelling and began to make bags and boxes for gunpowder. I decided to divide it into parts and store it little by little in different places, so that it could by no means flare up all at once and the parts themselves could not ignite from each other. This job took me almost two weeks. All in all I had about two hundred and forty pounds of gunpowder. I arranged it in bags and boxes, dividing it into at least a hundred parts. I hid the sacks and boxes in the clefts of the mountain in places where dampness could in no way penetrate, and carefully marked each place. I was not afraid of the keg of wet gunpowder, so I put it in my cave, or "kitchen", as I mentally called it.
While I was building my fence, I went out at least once a day with a gun, partly for fun, partly to shoot some game and get to know the natural riches of the island. On my first walk I discovered that there were goats on the island, and I was very glad about this; the only trouble was that these goats were so timid, so sensitive and agile, that sneaking up on them was the most difficult thing in the world. However, this did not discourage me, I had no doubt that sooner or later I would shoot one of them, which soon happened. When I tracked down the places that served them as a halt, I noticed the following: if they were on the mountain, and I appeared below them in the valley, the whole herd rushed away from me in fear; but if it happened that I was on the mountain, and the goats were grazing in the valley, then they did not notice me. This led me to the conclusion that the eyes of these animals are not adapted to look upwards, and that, consequently, they often do not see what is happening above them. From that time on, I began to adhere to this method: I always climbed some rock first in order to be above them, and then I often managed to shoot the animal.
With the first shot, I killed a goat, which, as it turned out, was feeding a goat; this made me very sad; when the mother fell, the goat remained quietly standing next to her. Moreover, when I approached the dead goat, put it on my shoulders and carried it home, the goat ran after me, and so we reached the house itself. At the fence, I laid the goat on the ground, picked up the kid and carried it over the palisade in the hope of raising it and taming it, but it still did not know how to chew, and I was forced to slaughter and eat it. The meat of these two animals was enough for me for a long time, because I ate little, trying to conserve my supplies as much as possible, especially bread.
After I finally settled in my new home, the most urgent thing for me was to arrange some kind of hearth in which I could kindle a fire, and also stock up on firewood. How I coped with this task, as well as how I replenished supplies in my cellar and how I gradually surrounded myself with certain comforts, I will tell you in detail another time, but now I would like to talk about myself, tell what thoughts at that time I was visited. And, of course, there were many of them.
My situation appeared to me in the most gloomy light. I had been hurled by a storm on a desert island, which lay far from our ship's destination and many hundreds of miles from the usual trade sea routes, and I had every reason to conclude that it was so ordained by heaven that here, in this sad place, in In the hopeless longing of loneliness I ended my days. My eyes filled with tears when I thought about this, and more than once I wondered why Providence destroys creatures created by it, leaves them to their fate, leaves them without any support and makes them so hopelessly unhappy, plunges them into such despair that it is hardly possible to be grateful for such a life.
But every time something quickly stopped my thoughts and reproached me for them. I especially remember one such day when, in deep thought, I wandered along the seashore with a gun and thought about my bitter lot. And suddenly the voice of reason spoke to me. “Yes,” said that voice, “your position is unenviable: you are alone—it is true. But remember: where are you, what happened to you? After all, eleven people got into the boat, where are the other ten? Why didn't they escape and you didn't perish? Why do you have such a preference? And what do you think, where is better - here or there? And I looked out to sea. Therefore, in every evil one can find good, one has only to think that it could be worse.
Here again I clearly imagined how well I provided myself with everything necessary and what would happen to me if - and it should have happened in 99 cases out of a hundred - our ship did not move from the place where it first ran aground, and did not drive close to the shore, and I would not have had time to grab all the things I needed. What would happen to me if I had to live on this island as I spent the first night on it - without shelter, without food and without any means to get both?
“In particular,” I said aloud (to myself, of course), “what would I do without a gun and without charges, without tools? How would I live here alone if I had no bed, no clothes, no tent to hide in?
Now I had plenty of all this, and I was not even afraid to look into the eyes of the future: I knew that by the time my stocks of charges and gunpowder ran out, I would have in my hands another means of obtaining food for myself. I will live peacefully without a gun until my death, for from the very first days of my life on the island, I decided to provide myself with everything necessary for the time when I not only exhausted my entire supply of gunpowder and charges, but also began to change my health and strength.
I confess that I completely lost sight of the fact that my firearms can be destroyed with a single blow, that lightning can set fire to and explode my gunpowder. That's why I was so amazed when I had this thought during a thunderstorm.
And now, as I enter into the sad story of a hermit's life, perhaps the most wonderful that has ever been described, I will begin at the very beginning and will tell in order.
It was, by my account, September 30, when my foot first set foot on the terrible island. This happened, therefore, during the autumn equinox: and in those latitudes (that is, by my calculations, 9 ° 22 "north of the equator), the sun in this month is almost directly overhead.
Ten or twelve days had passed of my life on the island, and I suddenly realized that I would lose track of time due to the lack of books, pens and ink, and that in the end I would even cease to distinguish everyday life from Sundays. To avoid this, I set up a large wooden post on the shore where the sea threw me, and carved on the board with a knife in large letters the inscription: “Here I set foot on the shore on September 30, 1659,” which I nailed crosswise to the post. Every day I made a notch on the sides of this pillar with a knife, and every six notches I made one longer: this meant Sunday; the notches that marked the first of each month I made even longer. This is how I kept my calendar, marking days, weeks, months and years.
In listing the items I brought from the ship, as mentioned above, in several steps, I did not mention many small things, although not particularly valuable, but nevertheless served me well. Thus, for example, in the cabins of the captain, his mate, artilleryman and carpenter, I found ink, pens and paper, three or four compasses, some astronomical instruments, chronometers, spyglasses, maps and books on navigation. I put all this in one of the chests just in case, not even knowing if I would need any of these things. In addition, in my own luggage were three Bibles in good editions (I received them from England along with the goods I ordered and, setting off on a voyage, packed with my things). Then I came across several books in Portuguese, including three Catholic prayer books, and some other books. I took them too. I must also mention that we had a dog and two cats on the ship (I will tell in due time the curious story of the life of these animals on the island). I brought the cats ashore on a raft, while the dog jumped into the water on my first expedition to the ship and swam after me. She has been my faithful companion and servant for many years. She did everything she could for me and almost replaced human society for me. I only wish she could speak, but that was not given to her. As already said, I took pens, ink and paper from the ship. I saved them to the last possible and, as long as I had ink, carefully wrote down everything that happened to me; but when they came out, I had to stop my notes, because I did not know how to make ink and could not think of a substitute for them.
This reminded me that, in spite of the huge warehouse of all kinds of things, I still lacked a lot besides ink: I had neither a shovel, nor a spade, nor a pick, and I had nothing to dig or loosen the earth, there were no needles, no pins, no thread. I didn’t even have linen, but I soon learned to do without it without experiencing great hardships.
Due to the lack of tools, all work was slow and difficult for me. It took me almost a whole year to complete the fence with which I decided to surround my dwelling. Cutting thick poles in the forest, carving stakes out of them, dragging these stakes to my tent - all this took a lot of time. The stakes were so heavy that I could not lift more than one at a time, and sometimes it took me two days just to trim the stake and bring it home, and the third day to drive it into the ground. For this last work, I first used a heavy wooden club, and then remembered the iron crowbars I brought from the ship, and replaced the club with a crowbar, but nevertheless, driving stakes remained for me one of the most tedious and painstaking work.
But what if I still had nowhere to put time? And when the building was completed, I did not foresee for myself any other business than to wander around the island in search of food, which I already did almost every day.
The time came when I began to seriously and carefully consider my position and the forced circumstances of my life and began to write down my thoughts - not in order to perpetuate them as a warning to people who will have to endure the same as me (for there would hardly be many such people), but simply to put into words everything that tormented and tormented me, and thereby at least somewhat relieve my soul. But no matter how painful my reflections were, my reason began, little by little, to gain the upper hand over despair. To the best of my ability, I tried to console myself with the thought that something worse could have happened, and opposed good to evil. With complete impartiality, I, like a debtor and creditor, wrote down all the sorrows I endured, and next to it - everything that happened to me that was gratifying.
I am abandoned by fate on a gloomy, uninhabited island and have no hope of deliverance.
Good:
But I am alive, I did not drown, like all my comrades.
I seem to be singled out and cut off from the whole world and doomed to grief.
Good:
But on the other hand, I am separated from our entire crew, death spared me, and the One who so miraculously saved me from death will also rescue me from this bleak situation.
I am distant from all mankind; I am a hermit, expelled from human society.
Good:
But I did not die of hunger and did not perish, having got into a completely barren place where a person has nothing to eat.
I have few clothes, and soon I will have nothing to cover my body with.
Good:
But I live in a hot climate where I wouldn't wear clothes even if I had them.
I am defenseless against the attack of people and animals.
Good:
But the island where I ended up is deserted, and I did not see a single predatory animal on it, as on the shores of Africa. What would happen to me if I was thrown there?
I have no one to talk to, and no one to console me.
Good:
But God worked a miracle, driving our ship so close to the shore that I not only managed to stock up on everything necessary to meet my needs, but also got the opportunity to earn my living for the rest of my days.
This record indisputably testifies that hardly anyone in the world fell into a more distressed situation, and yet it contained both negative and positive aspects for which one should be grateful: the bitter experience of a man who has known the worst misfortune on earth , shows that we will always find some kind of consolation, which, in the account of our troubles and blessings, should be written in the parish column.
So, having listened to the voice of reason, I began to put up with my position. Before, I kept looking at the sea in the hope that a ship would not appear somewhere; now I have already put an end to vain hopes and directed all my thoughts to making my existence as easy as possible.
I have already described my dwelling. It was a tent pitched on the side of a mountain and surrounded by a palisade. But now my fence could be called rather a wall, because close to it, on the outside of it, I erected an earthen mound two feet thick. And some time later (as far as I remember, a year and a half later) I put poles on the embankment, leaning them against the slope, and made a flooring from different branches on top. Thus my yard was under a roof, and I could not be afraid of the rains, which, as I have already said, at certain times of the year poured down continuously on my island.
I have already mentioned that I brought all my goods into the fence and into the cave, which I dug out behind the tent. But I must say that at first things were piled up, mixed up at random and cluttered up the whole space, so I had nowhere to turn. For this reason, I decided to deepen my cave. It was not difficult to do this, since the mountain was loose, sandy rock, which easily succumbed to my efforts. So, when I saw that I was not in danger from predatory animals, I began to dig sideways, on the right side of the cave, and then turned even more to the right and brought the passage outside, beyond the limits of my fortification. This gallery not only served as a back door to my tent, allowing me to leave and return freely, but also greatly enlarged my pantry.
Having finished this work, I set about making the most necessary furnishings, first of all a table and a chair: without them I could not fully enjoy even those modest pleasures that were released to me on earth; I could neither eat nor write with full comfort.
And so I started carpentry. Here I must note that reason is the basis and source of mathematics, and therefore, by defining and measuring things with reason and making an intelligent judgment about them, everyone can, after a certain time, master any craft. Never in my life until then had I taken a carpenter's tool in my hands, and yet, thanks to diligence and diligence, I gradually got so good at it that, undoubtedly, I could do anything, especially if I had tools. But even without tools or almost without tools, with only an ax and a planer, I made many things, although, probably, no one has yet made them in this way and has not spent so much labor on it. So, for example, when I needed a board, I had to cut down a tree, clear the trunk of branches and, placing it in front of me, hew on both sides until it acquired the required shape. And then the board had to be planed with a planer. True, with this method, only one board came out of a whole tree, and the dressing of this board took me a lot of time and labor. But there was only one remedy for this: patience. Besides, my time and my labor were inexpensive, and did it really matter where and what they went for?
So, first of all, I made myself a table and a chair. I used short boards on them, which I brought on a raft from the ship. When I then hewed long boards in the manner described above, I fitted in my cellar, along one of its walls, several shelves, one above the other, a foot and a half wide, and put my tools, nails, iron and other small belongings on them - in a word, I distributed everything according to places to easily find every thing. I also drove pegs into the wall of the cellar and hung on them guns and everything that could be hung.
Anyone who would see my cave after that would probably take it for a warehouse of essentials. Everything was at my fingertips, and it gave me real pleasure to look into this warehouse: such an exemplary order reigned there and there was so much goodness there.
Only after the completion of this work did I begin to keep my diary and write down everything I did during the day. At first I was seized with such haste and so dejected that my gloomy mood would inevitably be reflected in my diary. For example, what kind of entry would I have to make: September 30th. When I got ashore and thus escaped death, I vomited salt water, which I swallowed. Little by little I came to my senses, but instead of thanking the Creator for my salvation, I began to run along the shore in desperation. I wringed my arms, hit myself on the head and face, and shouted in a frenzy: "I'm dead, I'm dead!" - until he fell to the ground, exhausted. But I did not close my eyes, fearing that I would not be torn to pieces by wild animals.
For many days after that (already after all my expeditions to the ship, when all the things had been transported from it), I now and then ran up the hillock and looked at the sea in the hope of seeing a ship on the horizon. How many times it seemed to me as if a sail was whitening in the distance, and I indulged in joyful hopes! I looked and looked until my vision blurred, then I fell into despair, threw myself on the ground and wept like a child, only aggravating my misfortune by my own stupidity.
But when at last I had mastered myself to a certain extent, when I had arranged my dwelling, put my household goods in order, made myself a table and a chair, and furnished myself with all the comforts I could, I set to work on the diary. I quote it here in full, although the events described in it are largely already known to the reader. I kept it while I had the ink, but when they came out, the diary had to be stopped.
When an almost sixty-year-old well-known journalist and publicist Daniel Defoe(1660-1731) wrote in 1719 "Robinson Crusoe", he least of all thought that an innovative work was coming out from under his pen, the first novel in the literature of the Enlightenment. He did not expect that it was this text that descendants would prefer out of 375 works already published under his signature and earned him the honorary name of "the father of English journalism." Literary historians believe that in fact he wrote much more, only to identify his works, published under various pseudonyms, in a wide stream of the English press at the turn of the 17th-18th centuries is not easy. At the time of the creation of the novel, Defoe had a huge life experience behind him: he came from a lower class, in his youth he was a participant in the rebellion of the Duke of Monmouth, escaped execution, traveled around Europe and spoke six languages, knew the smiles and betrayals of Fortune. His values - wealth, prosperity, personal responsibility of a person before God and himself - are typically puritanical, bourgeois values, and Defoe's biography is a colorful, eventful biography of the bourgeois of the era of primitive accumulation. He started various enterprises all his life and said about himself: "Thirteen times I became rich and again poor." Political and literary activity led him to a civil execution at the pillory. For one of the magazines, Defoe wrote a fake autobiography of Robinson Crusoe, the authenticity of which his readers should have believed (and believed).
The plot of the novel is based on a true story, told by Captain Woods Rogers in an account of his journey, which Defoe could read in the press. Captain Rogers told how his sailors removed from a desert island in the Atlantic Ocean a man who had spent four years and five months alone there. Alexander Selkirk, a violent mate on an English ship, quarreled with his captain and was put on the island with a gun, gunpowder, a supply of tobacco, and a Bible. When Rogers' sailors found him, he was dressed in goatskins and "looked wilder than the horned original owners of this attire." He forgot how to speak, on the way to England he hid crackers in the secluded places of the ship, and it took time for him to return to a civilized state.
Unlike the real prototype, Defoe's Crusoe has not lost his humanity in twenty-eight years on a desert island. The story of the affairs and days of Robinson is permeated with enthusiasm and optimism, the book exudes an unfading charm. Today, "Robinson Crusoe" is read primarily by children and adolescents as a fascinating adventure story, but the novel poses problems that should be discussed in terms of the history of culture and literature.
The protagonist of the novel, Robinson, an exemplary English businessman who embodies the ideology of the emerging bourgeoisie, grows in the novel to a monumental depiction of the creative, creative abilities of a person, and at the same time his portrait is historically completely concrete.
Robinson, the son of a merchant from York, dreams of the sea from a young age. On the one hand, there is nothing exceptional in this - England at that time was the leading maritime power in the world, English sailors plowed all the oceans, the profession of a sailor was the most common, considered honorable. On the other hand, Robinson is drawn to the sea not by the romance of sea voyages; he does not even try to enter the ship as a sailor and study maritime affairs, but in all his voyages he prefers the role of a passenger paying the fare; Robinson confides in the traveler's unfortunate fate for a more prosaic reason: he is drawn to "the rash venture to make a fortune by scouring the world." Indeed, outside of Europe it was easy to get rich quick with some luck, and Robinson runs away from home, defying his father's admonitions. Father Robinson's speech at the beginning of the novel is a hymn to bourgeois virtues, to the "average condition":
Those who leave their homeland in pursuit of adventure, he said, are either those who have nothing to lose, or the ambitious who yearn for the highest position; embarking on enterprises that go beyond the framework of everyday life, they strive to improve their affairs and cover their name with glory; but such things are either beyond my powers, or humiliating for me; my place is the middle, that is, what can be called the highest stage of a modest existence, which, as he was convinced by many years of experience, is for us the best in the world, the most suitable for human happiness, freed from need and deprivation, physical labor and suffering falling to the lot of the lower classes, and from luxury, ambition, arrogance and envy of the upper classes. How pleasant such a life is, he said, I can already judge by the fact that all those placed in other conditions envy him: even kings often complain about the bitter fate of people born for great deeds, and regret that fate did not put them between two extremes - insignificance and greatness, and the sage speaks in favor of the middle as a measure of true happiness, when he prays heaven not to send him either poverty or wealth.
However, young Robinson does not heed the voice of prudence, goes to sea, and his first merchant enterprise - an expedition to Guinea - brings him three hundred pounds (it is characteristic how accurately he always names sums of money in the narrative); this luck turns his head and completes his "death". Therefore, everything that happens to him in the future, Robinson considers as a punishment for filial disobedience, for not obeying "sober arguments of the best part of his being" - reason. And on an uninhabited island at the mouth of the Orinoco, he falls, succumbing to the temptation to "get rich sooner than circumstances allowed": he undertakes to deliver slaves from Africa for Brazilian plantations, which will increase his fortune to three or four thousand pounds sterling. During this voyage, he ends up on a desert island after a shipwreck.
And then the central part of the novel begins, an unprecedented experiment begins, which the author puts on his hero. Robinson is a small atom of the bourgeois world, who does not think of himself outside this world and regards everything in the world as a means to achieve his goal, having already traveled three continents, purposefully following his path to wealth.
He is artificially torn out of society, placed in solitude, placed face to face with nature. In the "laboratory" conditions of a tropical uninhabited island, an experiment is being carried out on a person: how will a person torn from civilization behave, individually faced with the eternal, core problem of mankind - how to survive, how to interact with nature? And Crusoe repeats the path of humanity as a whole: he begins to work, so that work becomes the main theme of the novel.
The Enlightenment novel, for the first time in the history of literature, pays tribute to labor. In the history of civilization, work was usually perceived as a punishment, as an evil: according to the Bible, God placed the need to work on all the descendants of Adam and Eve as a punishment for original sin. In Defoe, labor appears not only as the real main content of human life, not only as a means of obtaining the necessary. Even Puritan moralists were the first to talk about labor as a worthy, great occupation, and labor is not poeticized in Defoe's novel. When Robinson finds himself on a desert island, he does not really know how to do anything, and only little by little, through failure, he learns to grow bread, weave baskets, make his own tools, clay pots, clothes, an umbrella, a boat, breed goats, etc. It has long been noted that it is more difficult for Robinson to give those crafts with which his creator was well acquainted: for example, Defoe at one time owned a tile factory, so Robinson's attempts to mold and burn pots are described in detail. Robinson himself is aware of the saving role of labor:
"Even when I realized all the horror of my situation - all the hopelessness of my loneliness, my complete isolation from people, without a glimmer of hope for deliverance - even then, as soon as the opportunity opened up to stay alive, not to die of hunger, all my grief was like a hand took off: I calmed down, began to work to satisfy my urgent needs and to save my life, and if I lamented about my fate, then least of all I saw heavenly punishment in it ... "
However, in the conditions of the experiment started by the author on human survival, there is one concession: Robinson quickly "opens up the opportunity not to starve to death, to stay alive." It cannot be said that all his ties with civilization have been completely cut. First, civilization operates in his habits, in his memory, in his life position; secondly, from the plot point of view, civilization sends its fruits to Robinson surprisingly timely. He would hardly have survived if he had not immediately evacuated all food supplies and tools from the wrecked ship (guns and gunpowder, knives, axes, nails and a screwdriver, sharpener, crowbar), ropes and sails, bed and dress. However, at the same time, civilization is represented on the Isle of Despair only by its technical achievements, and social contradictions do not exist for an isolated, lonely hero. It is from loneliness that he suffers the most, and the appearance of the savage Friday on the island becomes a relief.
As already mentioned, Robinson embodies the psychology of the bourgeois: it seems quite natural for him to appropriate everything and everyone for which there is no legal property right for any of the Europeans. Robinson's favorite pronoun is "my", and he immediately makes Friday his servant: "I taught him to pronounce the word" master "and made it clear that this is my name." Robinson does not question whether he has the right to appropriate Friday for himself, to sell his friend in captivity, the boy Xuri, to trade in slaves. Other people are of interest to Robinson insofar as they are partners or the subject of his transactions, trading operations, and Robinson does not expect a different attitude towards himself. In Defoe's novel, the world of people, depicted in the story of Robinson's life before his ill-fated expedition, is in a state of Brownian motion, and the stronger its contrast with the bright, transparent world of a desert island.
So, Robinson Crusoe is a new image in the gallery of great individualists, and he differs from his Renaissance predecessors by the absence of extremes, by the fact that he completely belongs to the real world. No one will call Crusoe a dreamer, like Don Quixote, or an intellectual, a philosopher, like Hamlet. His sphere is practical action, management, trade, that is, he is engaged in the same thing as the majority of mankind. His egoism is natural and natural, he is aimed at a typically bourgeois ideal - wealth. The secret of the charm of this image is in the very exceptional conditions of the educational experiment that the author made on him. For Defoe and his first readers, the interest of the novel lay precisely in the exclusivity of the hero's situation, and detailed description his everyday life, his everyday work was justified only by a thousand miles distance from England.
Robinson's psychology is fully consistent with the simple and artless style of the novel. Its main property is credibility, complete persuasiveness. The illusion of the authenticity of what is happening is achieved by Defoe using so many small details that no one seems to have undertaken to invent. Taking an initially improbable situation, Defoe then develops it, strictly observing the limits of likelihood.
The success of "Robinson Crusoe" with the reader was such that four months later Defoe wrote "The Further Adventures of Robinson Crusoe", and in 1720 he published the third part of the novel - "Serious reflections during a life and amazing Adventures Robinson Crusoe. During the 18th century, about fifty more “new Robinsons” saw the light in various literatures, in which Defoe’s idea gradually turned out to be completely inverted. his followers have new Robinsons, who, under the influence of the ideas of the late Enlightenment, live one life with nature and are happy to break with an emphatically vicious society.This meaning was put into Defoe's novel by the first passionate exposer of the vices of civilization, Jean Jacques Rousseau; for Defoe, separation from society was a return to the past of mankind - for Rousseau, he becomes an abstract example of the formation of man, the ideal of the future.
Defoe Daniel
Robinson Crusoe
Daniel Defoe
Robinson Crusoe
CHAPTER FIRST
Robinson family. - His escape from his parents' house
From early childhood, I loved the sea more than anything in the world. I envied every sailor who went on a long voyage. For whole hours I stood idle on the seashore and, without taking my eyes off, examined the ships passing by.
My parents didn't like it very much. My father, an old, sick man, wanted me to become an important official, serve in the royal court and receive a large salary. But I dreamed of sea voyages. It seemed to me the greatest happiness to wander the seas and oceans.
My father knew what was on my mind. One day he called me to him and angrily said:
I know you want to run away from your home. It's crazy. You must stay. If you stay, I will be a good father to you, but woe to you if you run away! Here his voice trembled, and he added softly: "Think of your sick mother... She cannot bear to be separated from you."
Tears glistened in his eyes. He loved me and wanted the best for me.
I felt sorry for the old man, I firmly decided to stay in my parents' house and not think about sea travel anymore. But alas! A few days passed, and nothing remained of my good intentions. I was again drawn to the sea shores. I began to dream of masts, waves, sails, seagulls, unknown countries, lighthouses.
Two or three weeks after my conversation with my father, I decided to run away. Choosing a time when my mother was cheerful and calm, I went up to her and respectfully said:
I am already eighteen years old, and in these years it is too late to study judicial business. Even if I entered the service somewhere, I would still run away to distant countries after a few years. I so want to see foreign lands, to visit both Africa and Asia! Even if I get attached to some business, I still do not have the patience to bring it to the end. I beg you, persuade my father to let me go to sea at least for a short time, for a test; If I don't like the life of a sailor, I'll go back home and never go anywhere else. Let my father let me go voluntarily, because otherwise I will be forced to leave home without his permission.
My mother was very angry with me and said:
I wonder how you can think of sea voyages after your conversation with your father! After all, your father demanded that you forget about foreign lands once and for all. And he understands better than you what business you should do. Of course, if you want to ruin yourself, leave at least this minute, but you can be sure that my father and I will never agree to your trip. And in vain you hoped that I would help you. No, I won't say a word to my father about your meaningless dreams. I do not want that later, when life at sea brings you to need and suffering, you can reproach your mother for indulging you.
Later, many years later, I found out that my mother nevertheless conveyed to my father our entire conversation, word for word. The father was saddened and said to her with a sigh:
I don't understand what he wants? At home, he could easily achieve success and happiness. We are not rich people, but we have some means. He can live with us without needing anything. If he starts wandering, he will experience severe hardships and regret that he did not obey his father. No, I can't let him go to sea. Away from his homeland, he will be lonely, and if trouble happens to him, he will not find a friend who could comfort him. And then he will repent of his recklessness, but it will be too late!
And yet, after a few months, I ran away from my home. It happened like this. Once I went for a few days to the city of Hull. There I met a friend who was going to London on his father's ship. He began to persuade me to go with him, tempting me with the fact that the passage on the ship would be free.
And so, without asking either father or mother, - at an unkind hour! - September 1, 1651, in the nineteenth year of my life, I boarded a ship bound for London.
It was a bad deed: I shamelessly left my elderly parents, neglected their advice and violated my filial duty. And I very soon had to repent of what I had done.
CHAPTER TWO
First adventures at sea
No sooner had our ship left the mouth of the Humber than a cold wind blew from the north. The sky was covered with clouds. The strongest pitching began.
I had never been to sea before, and I felt sick. I felt dizzy, my legs trembled, I felt sick, I nearly fell over. Every time a big wave hit the ship, it seemed to me that we would sink in a minute. Whenever a ship fell from a high crest of a wave, I was sure that it would never rise again.
A thousand times I have sworn that if I remain alive, if my foot sets foot on solid ground again, I will immediately return home to my father and never again in my whole life will go up on the deck of a ship.
These prudent thoughts lasted only for the duration of the storm.
But the wind died down, the excitement subsided, and I felt much better. Little by little I began to get used to the sea. True, I was not yet completely rid of seasickness, but towards the end of the day the weather cleared up, the wind completely died down, and a delightful evening came.
All night I slept soundly. The next day the sky was just as clear. The quiet sea, with complete calm, all illuminated by the sun, represented such beautiful picture which I have never seen before. There was no sign of my seasickness. I immediately calmed down, and I became cheerful. With surprise, I looked around the sea, which only yesterday seemed violent, cruel and formidable, but today it was so meek, affectionate.
Here, as if on purpose, my friend comes up to me, tempted me to go with him, pats me on the shoulder and says:
Well, how do you feel, Bob? I bet you were scared. Admit it: you were very frightened yesterday, when the breeze blew?
Breeze? Good wind! It was a furious storm. I could not imagine such a terrible storm!
Storms? Oh you fool! Do you think it's a storm? Well, you're still new to the sea: no wonder you're frightened... Let's better go and order some punch, drink a glass and forget about the storm. Look what a clear day! Great weather, isn't it? To shorten this sad part of my story, I will only say that things went on, as usual with sailors: I got drunk drunk and drowned in wine all my promises and oaths, all my laudable thoughts about an immediate return home. As soon as the calm came and I ceased to be afraid that the waves would swallow me up, I immediately forgot all my good intentions.
On the sixth day we saw the city of Yarmouth in the distance. The wind after the storm was contrary, so we moved forward very slowly. At Yarmouth we had to drop anchor. We stood waiting for a fair wind for seven or eight days.
