It was his last night on board. He tossed about in his cabin, picturing to himself all manner of evils and unknown dangers, till thoughts became dreams, and he enjoyed a troubled sleep.
Next morning, however, Aurora’s harbinger dispelled his gloomy fears; and he was more firmly wedded to his purpose than ever.
There was a good deal of whispering among the men, until one of them, acting as spokesman, endeavoured with native eloquence to dissuade him from his ill-advised purpose; but he threw away this last golden opportunity of retiring gracefully from a most awkward position, and was duly landed with a gun and some ammunition, together with such creature comforts as the occasion demanded.
After carrying the things up to the hut, the men salaam’d and returned to the ship, which soon sailed out of sight.
Then for the first time did he realize the significance of the word “solitude”: the very voice of nature seemed hushed, and an unearthly silence pervaded the entire scene. Returning to the hut, he lit a lamp and sank into an easy-chair with his gun close at hand. Here he slept for some time, being visited by the most fanciful dreams, and was at length startled into consciousness by the falling of his shot-belt.
When he awoke, his usual supper hour was long past; but unable to eat anything, he uncorked a bottle of beer, and the noise seemed terrific in the midst of that deathlike silence—everything frightened him, the cry of a bird, the moaning of a larger wave than usual on the shore.
Next morning he busied himself about the hut, and tried fishing; but he could not settle down to any occupation. Above all, he dreaded the lonely evening and the wakeful night. He had food in variety and abundance, but the desire to eat was in abeyance. Another night of nervous anxiety: he kept his door securely fastened, although he knew that nothing was there to enter, even had it been left wide open.
His fears now took the form of savages visiting the island to feast, perchance, on prisoners captured in some recent encounter.
On the third night, he managed to fortify the hut in some measure; loaded both his guns, and saw to his revolver, which lay under his pillow, and which he grasped many times during the night, as his disordered imagination conjured up some visionary danger.
The fourth day, he awoke with the same ideas uppermost in his mind, opened the door of his hut cautiously and stole out on to the shore.