Thus we had lain not long, when we perceived a man made signals to us from the shore, hallooing and waving a sort of a ragged banner on a staff. He appeared to be a wild figure of a man, but the light was failing, and whether European or Indian we could not tell. And, as to what he said, a very great concourse of seals on the shore did keep up so great a barking noise that we could make nothing of it.
I asked the Captain whether he would send off a boat, but he told me “No, not until the morning,” and immediately commanded, that on no pretext, should any man leave the ship. Notwithstanding, being restless and full of curiosity to know who and what that strange man on the island might be, I resolved to get to the shore if possibly I could, and began to cast about for a way.
Had the cock-boat been afloat, it had been easy if I waited until night came; for the sea was smooth, and the men did not use to keep a good watch. But only the jolly-boat lay in the water, and that I could not manage. She lay under our quarter.
But, when I saw how she tugged at her lashing towards the shore, I took a thought; for I perceived, that, if the tide held until night, I might safely trust to drive ashore in her, and, peradventure, get off unseen. Concluding, therefore, to make the attempt if the tide held, I disposed myself to wait the time.
At last it became quite dark; whereupon I stole softly into the great cabin (which, by good luck, I found empty), stepped to a port-hole and looked without.
The shine of a bright star just overhead showed me that the jolly-boat held in the same posture, and that the tide still flowed. I opened the port, and, scrambling up, made a leap for the jolly-boat. I lighted on my toes in the stern-sheets, making but little noise; and, having recovered my balance, I had soon cut through the lashing with my knife. Unseen by any man on the ship, I drove quickly towards the shore.
At length the boat grounded on the sandy bottom; and, catching up a rope that was fastened in the bows, I boldly adventured to leap ashore. But hereupon I came nigh to be scared out of my wits; for, falling foul of an obstacle that lay there below, I rolled over, clutching with my fingers a shaggy hide, and a huge creature rose up beside me, being quite six times bigger than a seal, and did roar like a lion. And, indeed, a lion I took him to be; for his head, as I saw it, was exactly like a lion’s. However, he shambled away, and left me; and now I know ’twas a creature called a sea-lion.
This rencounter shook my spirit; so that, having got to my feet, I stood quaking with fear of the darkness, or rather of unknown terrors the darkness might hold concealed. And, being also very cold and wet from my immersion in the breaking waves, I began hugely to repent of my coming hither, and devoutly wished it had been possible to return—nay, I was ready to halloo to the ship; but shame withheld me.
Now, whilst I thus stood, a voice spoke to me almost at my feet.
“Ha! little pilgrim,” came the voice. “Ha! little pilgrim!” ’Twas harsh and grating like a rusty lock.