Living such a life, with so few wants, and those periodically and easily supplied, hardly varied from one year’s end to another, it may easily be imagined that I had but few ideas. I might have had more, if my companion had not been of such a taciturn and morose habit; as it was, I looked at the wide ocean, and the sky, and the sun, moon, and stars, wondering, puzzled, afraid to ask questions, and ending all by sleeping away a large portion of my existence. We had no tools except the old ones, which were useless — no employment of any kind. There was a book, and I asked what it was for and what it was, but I got no answer. It remained upon the shelf, for if I looked at it I was ordered away, and at last I regarded it with a sort of fear, as if it were a kind of incomprehensible animal. The day was passed in idleness and almost silence; perhaps not a dozen sentences were exchanged in the twenty-four hours; my companion always the same, brooding over something which appeared ever to occupy his thoughts, and angry if roused up from his reverie.

  Chapter Two.

  The reader must understand that the foregoing remarks are to be considered as referring to my position and amount of knowledge when I was seven or eight years old. My master, as I called him, was a short square-built man, about sixty years of age, as I afterwards estimated from recollection and comparison. His hair fell down his back in thick clusters and was still of a dark colour, and his beard was full two feet long and very bushy; indeed, he was covered with hair, wherever his person was exposed. He was, I should say, very powerful had he had occasion to exert his strength, but with the exception of the time at which we collected the birds, and occasionally going up the ravine to bring down faggots of wood, he seldom moved out of the cabin, unless it was to bathe. There was a pool of salt-water of about twenty yards square, near the sea, but separated from it by a low ridge of rocks, over which the waves only beat when the sea was rough and the wind on that side of the island. Every morning almost we went down to bathe in that pool, as it was secure from the sharks, which were very numerous. I could swim like a fish as early as I can recollect, but whether I was taught, or learned myself, I cannot tell. Thus was my life passed away; my duties were trifling; I had little or nothing to employ myself about, for I had no means of employment. I seldom heard the human voice, and became as taciturn as my companion. My amusements were equally confined — looking down into the depths of the ocean, as I lay over the rocky wall which girted the major portion of the island, and watching the motions of the finny tribes below, wondering at the stars, during the night season, eating, and sleeping. Thus did I pass away an existence without pleasure and without pain. As for what my thoughts were I can hardly say, my knowledge and my ideas were too confined for me to have any food for thought. I was little better than a beast of the field, who lies down on the pasture after he is filled. There was one great source of interest, however, which was to listen to the sleeping talk of my companion, and I always looked forward to the time when the night fell and we repaired to our beds. I would lie awake for hours, listening to his ejaculations and murmured speech, trying in vain to find out some meaning in what he would say — but I gained little; he talked of “that woman” — appearing to be constantly with other men, and muttering about something he had hidden away. One night, when the moon was shining bright, he sat up in his bed, which, as I have before said, was on the floor of the cabin, and throwing aside the feathers upon which he had been lying, scratched the mould away below them and lifted up a piece of board. After a minute he replaced everything, and lay down again. He evidently was sleeping during the whole time. Here, at last, was something to feed my thoughts with. I had heard him say in his sleep that he had hidden something — this must be the hiding-place. What was it? Perhaps I ought here to observe that my feelings towards this man were those of positive dislike, if not hatred; I never had received one kind word or deed from him, that I could recollect. Harsh and unfeeling towards me, evidently looking upon me with ill-will, and only suffering me because I saved him some trouble, and perhaps because he wished to have a living thing for his companion, his feelings towards me were reciprocated by mine towards him. What age I was at the time my mother died, I know not, but I had some faint recollection of one who treated me with kindness and caresses, and these recollections became more forcible in my dreams, when I saw a figure very different from that of my companion (a female figure) hanging over me or leading me by the hand. How I used to try to continue those dreams, by closing my eyes again after I had woke up! And yet I knew not that they had been brought about by the dim recollection of my infancy; I knew not that the figure that appeared to me was the shadow of my mother; but I loved the dreams because I was treated kindly in them.

  But a change took place by the hand of Providence. One day, after we had just laid in our yearly provision of sea-birds, I was busy arranging the skins of the old birds, on the flat rock, for my annual garment, which was joined together something like a sack, with holes for the head and arms to pass through; when, as I looked to seaward, I saw a large white object on the water.

  “Look, master,” said I, pointing towards it.

  “A ship, a ship!” cried my companion.

  “Oh,” thought I, “that is a ship; I recollect that he said they came here in a ship.” I kept my eyes on her, and she rounded to.

  “Is she alive?” inquired I.

  “You’re a fool,” said the man; “come and help me to pile up this wood, that we may make a signal to her. Go and fetch some water and throw on it, that there may be plenty of smoke. Thank God, I may leave this cursed hole at last!”

  I hardly understood him, but I went for the water and brought it in the mess kid.

  “I want more wood yet,” said he. “Her head is this way, and she will come nearer.”

  “Then she is alive,” said I.

  “Away, fool!” said he, giving me a cuff on the head; “get some more water and throw on the wood.”

  He then went into the cabin to strike a light, which he obtained by a piece of iron and flint, with some fine dry moss for tinder. While he was so employed, my eyes were fixed on the vessel, wondering what it could be. It moved through the water, turned this way and that. “It must be alive,” thought I; “is it a fish or a bird?” As I watched the vessel, the sun was going down, and there was not more than an hour’s daylight. The wind was very light and variable, which accounted for the vessel so often altering her course. My companion came out with his hands full of smoking tinder, and putting it under the wood, was busy blowing it into a flame. The wood was soon set fire to, and the smoke ascended several feet into the air.

  “They’ll see that,” said he.

  “What then, it has eyes? It must be alive. Does it mind the wind?” inquired I, having no answer to my first remark, “for look there, the little clouds are coming up fast,” and I pointed to the horizon, where some small clouds were rising up, and which were, as I knew from experience and constantly watching the sky, a sign of a short but violent gale, or tornado, of which we usually had one, if not two, at this season of the year.

  “Yes; confound it,” replied my companion, grinding his teeth, “it will blow her off! That’s my luck.”

  In the meantime, the smoke ascended in the air and the vessel approached nearer and nearer, until she was within, I suppose, two miles of the island, and then it fell quite calm. My companion threw more water on to increase the smoke, and the vessel now hauling up her courses, I perceived that there were people on board, and while I was arranging my ideas as to what the vessel might be, my companion cried out— “They see us, they see us! There’s hope now. Confound it, I’ve been here long enough. Hurrah for old England!” and he commenced dancing and capering about like a madman. At last he said:

  “Look out, and see if she sends a boat, while I go into the cabin.”

  “What’s a boat?” said I.

  “Out, you fool! Tell me if you see anything.”

  “Yes, I do see something,” replied I. “Look at the squall coming along the water, it will be here very soon; and see how thick the clouds are getting up: we shall have as much wind and rain as we had the time before last, when the birds came.”

  “Confound it,” replied he, “I wish they’d lower a boat, at all events;” and so saying, he went into the cabin, and I perceived that he was busy at his bed-place.

  My eyes were still fixed upon the squall, as I watched it advancing at a furious speed on the surface of the water; at first it was a deep black line on the horizon, but as it approached the vessel, changed to white; the surface of the water was still smooth. The clouds were not more than ten degrees above the horizon, although they were thick and opaque but at this season of the year, these tornados, as I may call them, visited us; sometimes we had one, sometimes more, and it was only when these gusts came on that we had any rain below. On board of the vessel — I speak now from my after knowledge — they did not appear to be aware of the danger the sails were all set and flapping against the masts. At last, I perceived a small object close to the vessel; this I presumed was the boat which my companion looked for. It was like a young vessel close to the old one, but I said nothing, as I was watching and wondering what effect the rising wind would have upon her; for the observations of my companion had made me feel that it was important. After a time, I perceived that the white sails were disappearing, and that the forms of men were very busy, and moving on board, and the boat went back to the side of the vessel. The fact is, they had not perceived the squall until it was too late, for in another moment almost, I saw that the vessel bowed down to the fury of the gale, and after that, the mist was so great that I couldn’t see her any more.

  “Is she sending a boat, boy?” cried my companion.

  “I can’t see her,” replied I; “for she is hidden by the wind.”

  As I said this, the tornado reached to where we stood, and threw me off my legs to the entrance of the cabin; and with the wind came down a torrent of rain, which drenched us, and the clouds covered the whole of the firmament, which became dark; the lightning darted in every direction, with peals of thunder which were deafening. I crawled into the cabin, into which the rain beat in great fury and flowed out again in a small river.

  My companion sat near me, lowering and silent. For two hours, the tornado lasted without interruption; the sun had set, and the darkness was opaque. It was impossible to move against the force of the wind and the deluge of water which descended. Speak we did not, but shut our eyes against the lightning, and held our fingers to our ears to deaden the noise of the thunder, which burst upon us in the most awful manner. My companion groaned at intervals, whether from fear, I know not; I had no fear, for I did not know the danger, or that there was a God to judge the earth.

  Gradually the fury of the gale abated, the rain was only heavy at intervals, and we could now hear the beating of the waves, as they dashed against the rocks beneath us. The sky also cleared up a little, and we could dimly discern the white foam of the breakers. I crawled out of the cabin, and stood upon the platform in front, straining my eyes to see the vessel: A flash of lightning for a second revealed her to me; she was dismasted, rolling in the awful breakers, which bore her down upon the high rocks not a quarter of a mile from her.

  “There it is,” exclaimed I, as the disappearance of the lightning left me in darkness, more opaque than ever.

  “She’s done for,” growled my companion, who, I was not till then aware, stood by my side. “No hopes this time, confound it!” Then he continued for some time to curse and swear awfully, as I afterwards discovered, for I did not then know what was cursing and swearing.

  “There she is again,” said I, as another flash of lightning revealed the position of the vessel.

  “Yes, and she won’t be there long; in five minutes she’ll be dashed to atoms and every soul perish.”

  “What are souls?” inquired I.

  My companion gave me no reply.

  “I will go down to the rocks,” said I, “and see what goes on.”

  “What,” said he, “and share their fate?”

  Chapter Three.

  I left him, and commenced a careful descent of the precipices by which we were surrounded, but, before I had gone fifty paces, another flash of lightning was followed up by a loud shriek, which arrested my steps. Where the noise came from I could not tell, but I heard my companion calling to me to come back. I obeyed him, and found him standing where I had left him.

  “You called me, master?”

  “Yes, I did; take my hand and lead me to the cabin.”

  I obeyed him, wondering why he asked me so to do. He gained his bed-place, and threw himself down on it.

  “Bring the kid full of water,” said he— “quick!”

  I brought it, and he bathed his head and face. After a time, he threw himself back upon the bed-place, and groaned heavily.

  “O God! It’s all over with me,” said he at last. “I shall live and die in this cursed hole.”

  “What’s the matter, master?” said I.

  He gave me no answer, but lay groaning and occasionally cursing. After a time, he was still, and then I went out again. The tornado was now over, and the stars were to be seen here and there, but still the wind was strong and the wild clouds flew fast. The shores of the island were one mass of foam, which was dashed high in the air and fell upon the black rocks. I looked for the vessel, and could see nothing — the day was evidently dawning, and I sat down and waited its coming. My companion was apparently asleep, for he lay without motion or noise. That some misfortune had happened, I was convinced, but what I knew not, and I passed a long time in conjecture, dividing my thoughts between him and the vessel. At last the daylight appeared — the weather was moderating fast, although the waves still beat furiously against the rocky shore. I could see nothing of the vessel, and I descended the path, now slippery and insecure from the heavy fall of rain, and went as near to the edge of the rocks as the breaking billows would permit. I walked along, occasionally drenched by the spray, until I arrived where I had last seen the vessel. The waves were dashing and tossing about, as if in sport, fragments of timber, casks, and spars; but that was all I could see, except a mast and rigging, which lay alongside of the rocks, sometimes appearing above them on the summit of the waves, then descending far out of my sight, for I dared not venture near enough to the edge to look over. “Then the vessel is dashed to pieces, as my companion said,” thought I. “I wonder how she was made.” I remained about an hour on the rocks, and then turned back to the cabin. I found my companion awake, and groaning heavily.

  “There is no ship,” said I, “nothing but pieces of wood floating about.”

  “I know that,” replied he; “but what do I care now?”

  “I thought by your making a smoke, that you did care.”

  “Yes, I did then, but now I am blind, I shall never see a ship or anything else again. God help me! I shall die and rot on this cursed island.”

  “Blind, what is blind?” inquired I.

  “The lightning has burned out my eyes, and I can see nothing — I cannot help myself — I cannot walk about — cannot do anything, and I suppose you will leave me here to die like a dog.”

  “Can’t you see me?”

  “No, all is dark, dark as night, and will be as long as I live.” And he turned on his bed-place and groaned. “I had hope, I lived in hope — it has kept me alive for many weary years, but now hope is gone, and I care not if I die to-morrow.” And then he started up and turned his face towards me, and I saw that there was no light in his eyes.

  “Bring me some more water, do you hear?” said he angrily. “Be quick, or I’ll make you.”

  But I now fully comprehended his condition and how powerless he was. My feelings, as I have before said, were anything but cordial towards him, and this renewed violence and threatening manner had its effect. I was now, I suppose, about twelve or thirteen years old — strong and active. I had more than once felt inclined to rebel, and measure my strength against his. Irritated, therefore, at his angry language, I replied —

  “Go for the water yourself.”

  “Ah!” sighed he, after a pause of some seconds, “that I might have expected. But let me once get you into my hands, I’ll make you remember it.”

  “I care not if I were in your hands,” replied I; “I am as strong as you.” For I had thought so many a day, and meant to prove it.