“No, William, I did not, as I did not like to make your mother anxious; but the fact is, I am very anxious myself as to whether there is any water on this island; if there is not, we shall have to quit it sooner or later, for although we may get water by digging in the sand, it would be too brackish to use for any time, and would make us all ill. Very often there will be water if you dig for it, although it does not show above-ground; and therefore I brought the spade.”
“You think of everything, Ready.”
“No, I do not, William; but, in our present situation, I think of more things than perhaps your father and mother would: they have never known what it is to be put to their shifts; but a man like me, who has been all his life at sea, and who has been wrecked, and suffered hardships and difficulties, and has been obliged to think or die, has a greater knowledge, not only from his own sufferings, but by hearing how others have acted when they were in distress. Necessity sharpens a man’s wits; and it is very curious what people do contrive when they are compelled to do so, especially seamen.”
“And where are we going to now, Ready?”
“Right to the leeward side of the island.”
“Why do you call it the leeward side of the island?”
“Because among these islands the winds almost always blow one way; we landed on the windward side; the wind is at our back; now put up your finger, and you will feel it even among the trees.”
“No, I cannot,” replied William, as he held up his finger.
“Then wet your finger, and try again.”
William wet his finger, and held it up again. “Yes, I feel it now,” said he; “but why is that?”