They rigged their fishing lines—cutting poles from the trees—and armed them with hooks, of which, by good luck, Bates happened to have a supply with him. Then they launched the ship's boat, in which Bates had come to the island, and put out to sea.
Robert enjoyed the row in the early morning, and wondered they had not thought of taking out the boat before. At last they came to the business which brought them out, and in about half an hour had succeeded in catching four fishes, weighing perhaps fifteen pounds altogether.
"That'll be enough for us, unless you are very hungry," said Robert. "Now, suppose we land and cook them."
"Ay, ay, lad!"
Of course, their cooking arrangements were very primitive. In the first place, they were compelled to make a fire by the method in use among the savages, of rubbing two sticks smartly together, and catching the flame in a little prepared tinder. The fish were baked over the fire thus kindled. Though the outside was smoked, the inside was sweet and palatable, and neither was disposed to be fastidious. The preparation of the meal took considerable time, but they had abundance of that, and occupation prevented their brooding over their solitary situation.
"I wish I had 'Robinson Crusoe' here," said Robert—"we might get some hints from his adventures. I didn't imagine, when I used to read them, that I should ever be in a similar position."
"I've heard about him," said Bates; "but I never was much of a reader, and I never read his yarn. You might maybe tell me something of it."
"I will tell you all I can remember, but that isn't very much," said Robert.
He rehearsed to the attentive sailor such portions as he could call to mind of the wonderful story which for centuries to come is destined to enchain the attention of adventurous boys.
"That's a pretty good yarn," said Bates, approvingly. "Did he ever get off the island?"