As good luck would have it, we heard some voices approaching, which we soon discovered to be a couple of Chilians, to whom the trap belonged, coming thus early in the morning to see if it had caught any goats. When they looked over and saw the earth broken in, they were greatly rejoiced; but no sooner did they perceive that the game consisted of three full-grown men, than they ran away as fast as they could, shouting "Diabolo! Diabolo!" Abraham, who had been studying Spanish during the voyage, understood sufficient of the language to call out "Americanos! Americanos! no Diabolo! Per amore Deos, viene' qui! Amigos! amigos! no Diabolo!" This caused them to halt; and upon its being repeated a great many times, they ventured to the edge of the pit, where Abraham gave them every assurance that we were three unfortunate Americans, who had fallen into the trap by accident, and that we were in no way related to the devil. Upon this, they took a coil of rope, which they had for pulling up goats, and making a noose on one end, they let it down. The first man that was fastened on was the Doubter. It required the united efforts of Abraham and myself to get him into the noose; but we eventually had the pleasure of seeing him go up through the hole without farther accident. I then yielded reluctantly to Abraham, who insisted, as a point of honor, that he should be the last man. Being light, I was whirled out in a twinkling; and, finally, through this providential turn of affairs, we were all safely landed outside of the pit. The two Chilians, unable to divine the causes which had led to this singular state of things, looked on as if still half afraid that they had pulled some very bad characters out of the ground, muttering, as we shook the dirt off our clothes, "Madre de Deos! Santa Maria! Padre bonita!" I considered this a fitting opportunity, in view of the happy issue of the disaster, to effect a full and complete reconciliation between Abraham and the Doubter, and therefore proposed that they should shake hands on the spot, and forego all future hostilities. My friend immediately held out his hand in the frankest manner; the Doubter hesitated a moment, as if afraid that it might result in his being pulled back again into the pit; but, unable any longer to resist the hearty sincerity of his opponent, he gave his hand, and suffered it to be shaken; and so rejoiced was Abraham in finding every thing was thus happily settled, that he shook on with all his force for at least five minutes, during which the two Chilians, knowing no good reason why a pair of strange gentlemen, just pulled out of a goat-trap, should stand shaking hands with one another, exhibited the utmost surprise and consternation, exclaiming, as before, "Madre de Deos! Santa Maria! Padre bonita!"
We contrived to make up the sum of a dollar between us, which we gave to the men, telling them, at the same time, that they need not mention this matter, should they see any of our companions before we left the island. We then started for Pearce's hut, which we soon reached. The rest of the party had finished breakfast, and were waiting for us at the boat-landing. They had left directions with Pearce that we were to follow without delay, with or without the missing man, as the ship had made a signal for us to come aboard. While the Doubter and myself were making a hasty snack, Abraham took a piece of bread and meat, and started off to let our friends know that we had found the missing man, and would soon be down. In a few minutes we concluded our snack, and were about leaving the cabin, when Pearce said he reckoned some of us had left a bundle, which he had found in the corner. The bundle consisted of a handkerchief tied up, with something in it, which I quickly discovered to be the relic we had found in Crusoe's Cave.
"Where did you get that?" said Pearce.
"We dug it up in Crusoe's Cave; it was made by Alexander Selkirk."
"No it wasn't; it was made by me. I lived there a while when I first came on the island, and made it myself. I know the mark. I made it about a year and a half ago."
"But how is that?" said I, greatly astonished; "it looks to be over a century and a half old."
"It wasn't baked enough," said Pearce; "that's the reason it didn't keep well. The name's broke off, but there's part of what I writ on it."
"Impossible!" said I. "Don't you see "A S.... 170—?' What can that be but Alexander Selkirk, 1704, which was just the time he lived here!"
"No, 'taint; Alexander Selkirk never made that 'ere. I made it myself. I put my name on it; but the name's broke off. I writ, 'A Saucepan maid by W. Pearce, 17 Oct.' That's all. 'Taint no use to me now; you may take it, ef you want to."
I took it without saying another word; tied it up again in the handkerchief, and asked Pearce if he was going down with us to the boat-landing. He said he would be down there presently. So, without farther delay, we set out to join our companions. As we walked rapidly along the path, my shipmate suffered strange sounds to escape from his throat, indicative of his feelings. Suddenly he stopped, as if unable to restrain himself any longer.