The waverings of my mind brought on a burning fever, which caused my brain to throb, like the booming of a large bell, or the roaring of the billows breaking upon a rocky shore, and made me fancy at times that I could hear sounds similar to those which come from great centres of population; such, indeed, as I had heard in the neighbourhood of Goa and Macao. Shipwrecked people, it is well known, have these singular hallucinations. They are like clocks which have been set wrong, and keep on going—the hands traversing the dial, but no longer marking the correct time—and which strike at hazard.
During the continuance of this delirium, a bright red streak all at once tinted the horizon, dividing it like a cut made with a knife in the rind of a pomegranate. Suddenly this crimson line appeared to be swollen at a particular point, and a globe of fire rose majestically in the sky. It was the moon, which was nearly at the full. I believed that it was rising for me alone, so much calm did it seem to bring me, while enveloping me with its beautiful light. I took courage. My blood flowed more tranquilly through my veins. I reasoned on my situation with sequence and lucidity, and proved to myself that there was no serious reason for my remaining any longer in the place where I then was. My resolution was soon taken, and I proceeded to arm myself with the stoutest bamboo I could find on the border of the lake, to serve me for a defensive weapon in case of necessity. I then set about to determine whether this vast sheet of limpid water, which was spread before me, had, as was probably the case, some outlet through which it emptied itself into the sea. To be enlightened on this geographical problem was of the utmost importance to me.
Large sheets of water, although there are notable exceptions in Oceania, generally fall into the sea; if the lake therefore, on the banks of which I then was, had an important outlet, I was certain, by following the course of it step by step, to arrive at the sea. And as it is rarely the case that there are not certain spots on the banks of these streams where the native population, guided by the instinct of want, have raised their huts, I was equally certain to meet with these villages on my way. To discover this outlet I determined, if necessary, to make the circuit of the lake without deviating at all in my course, spite of the jungles which threatened to prevent me. After walking for about an hour a confused noise suddenly brought me to a standstill. I listened, then hastened in the direction whence the sound proceeded, and found it gradually growing more and more distinct, until at length I recognised the murmur of a considerable cascade. What I was in search of was evidently here. The waters of the lake fell into a second and lower basin which, growing narrower a little further on, became the stream on which I had counted. I followed the course of this natural canal, but not without encountering strange difficulties by the way. It was not an easy thing, as one may well believe, to continue walking for any length of time along a bank composed of spongy vegetable remains, on which it was altogether impossible to place one’s feet without sinking up to the knees, and which was at times entirely hidden by a layer of fibrous shoots, creepers, bamboos, and mimosas interwoven and crossed one over another with so much tenacity that they formed a kind of archway, beneath which I was forced to pass by, crawling along on my hands and knees. It was in one of these dark tunnels, while placing my hands on the ground so as to draw myself along, that I seized hold of something round and slippery and cold as ice, whilst, at the same moment, a wing struck me in the face, producing a double sensation of horror. The cold, round, slippery thing was a serpent; the blow on my face was caused by a hideous bat with slimy wings three or four feet in breadth. I still shudder when I think of this frightful meeting.
For several hours I advanced thus towards an unknown goal, feeling more and more persuaded, as I proceeded, that the portion of the island already traversed by me, under the perilous conditions which I have just endeavoured to relate, was not inhabited, unless, indeed, it happened to contain other lakes and water-courses, a probability which was extremely doubtful, considering the small extent of the islands composing the group, in the centre of which I had been shipwrecked. I concluded, therefore, that no inhabitant of the island was likely to be met with at any considerable distance from this stream, along which, so far as I had traced its course, there were no signs of human habitations to be seen. I concluded, moreover, from a parity of reasoning, that the island did not contain many wild beasts, since, as is well known from the testimony of travellers and naturalists, they frequent by preference the muddy banks of rivers, where they are certain to find, during the heat of the day, coolness, shade, and, above all, numerous prey for which they lie in wait, and, during the night, almost inaccessible retreats to which they can retire.
When I perceived above me the open sky, and some leagues of clear ground, both to my right hand and my left, the day was beginning to break. The violent exertion I had undergone, joined to the sudden freshness of the air, and the lightness of my yesterday’s repast, since fruit, however good and luscious it may be, is scarcely sufficiently satisfying to stomachs accustomed to the endless variety of food—the result of a high state of civilisation—had made me as ravenous as a tiger. I have never regretted so much as I then did, that Providence had not reserved to us, for seasons of difficulty, the means of living on grass and plants like animals of the herbivorous species, or endowed us like others with the faculty of seizing our prey. In the primitive ages of the world we were endowed perhaps with a less exclusive organisation; but, however this may have been, I was dying with hunger in the midst of a paradise of plants, ferns, and roots, which a horse or an ox would have considered the rarest of delicacies. Whilst I was absorbed in these reflections, it was gradually becoming lighter; objects began to stand out from the background of delicate violet, tinted with yellow, which is the forerunner of dawn in Oceania and southern China. A cool wind swept across the earth, the sharpness and tempering quality of which convinced me that it had already passed over the sea, which I would have wagered my existence was not far distant. Other signs confirmed me in my belief; the trees were neither so thick together nor so large; the heath, which was more stunted in its growth, was gradually becoming more scanty. When the sun showed itself above the horizon, I had only to exclaim, “There is the sea!” and I very soon did so.
The sea was scarcely two hundred yards from me when I first caught sight of its tiny waves—the same waves that were yesterday so furious—whitening a complete bend of the shore. Supposing some degree of regularity in the form of the island, this bend would give it, according to my calculations, a circumference of thirty leagues. Moreover, admitting, what I was satisfied of from observation, that the journey I had made during the night was half the diameter of the entire island, that is, five leagues, which is the average size of the islands of this group. After having assured myself that the one half of the island was uninhabited along the banks of the stream which I had already traversed, I still entertained a hope that I might meet with a village on the sea-shore the inhabitants of which might possibly be fishermen, a common enough profession among the Malays; or they might perhaps do a little trade by means of barter, which is a much less common profession; or they might be pirates, a profession which is usually joined to all others in these savage regions.
I commenced my excursion along the sea-shore, in spite of the fatigue which I was suffering. I knew that I had no time to lose, since, if the sun once rose in the heavens, its intense heat would render all bodily exertion impossible in this torrid zone, for at least ten hours to come.
If for the first three miles I discovered no more traces of the island being inhabited than I had met with during the previous evening, I could scarcely doubt that my good friends the apes often visited this locality. I recognised them by these signs. Thousands of oysters were spread upon the beach; and at least two layers of these oysters had been opened—not naturally, but with the aid of a little stone placed between the two shells. Who had done this? Why, my apes, of course. It is well known that oysters are a precious luxury to the entire monkey tribe, who are obliged to be very cunning in procuring themselves this treat, which is not without its attendant dangers. How do you suppose they manage this? Why, by throwing a stone between the two shells, at the precise moment that the oyster chances to gape; in this manner they are sure of their prey, without having to make an exhibition of themselves with their hands or their muzzles caught in the powerful grip of the oyster, who has the preservative faculty of closing his shell directly he is seized hold of.
As oysters furnish a far more substantial dish than any quantity of tropical fruit, and as my plundering and wasteful apes had opened more of these delicacies than they had consumed, I commenced my repast with a joyful heart. These bivalves were hardly equal to real Whitstable natives, or even to the oysters of Ostend; nevertheless, five or six dozen were rapidly devoured. A tankard of bitter ale would have been an acceptable accompaniment; but as this was not to be had, I was forced to content myself with bumpers of pure water, quaffed from the palm of my hand. My appetite was no sooner appeased than, contrary to what is usual under similar circumstances, my troubles of mind returned. Was I, I again asked myself, about to be brought face to face with the inhabitants of this island, either at the curve of some bay, or behind some projecting mass of rock? Filled with this hope—or rather, with this fear—I recommenced my explorations. But, after having ascended many creeks, many little gulfs, on the banks of which the banyans displayed their rich green foliage, I not only met with not a single inhabitant, neither black, brown, yellow, nor copper-coloured—but, during the long journey which I had performed, from five o’clock in the morning until noon, at which hour the burning heat poured down by the sun on my poor head forced me to halt, I had seen neither junk, nor canoe, nor any kind of implement, no fragments of articles in common use among beings of the slightest intelligence; in a word, no single trace of man.
As it was impossible to remain for any length of time, at this hour of the day, on this exposed coast, burnt up, as I was, by the sun, I deemed it prudent to proceed a short distance inland. On leaving the shore, I gathered, some hundred yards off, a stick of bamboo, the straightest and tallest I could find; and, after having stripped it of its leaves, I fastened to the end of it one of the two white handkerchiefs which I had about me at the moment of abandoning the junk, and planted it firmly in the sand. If some vessel should perceive this signal—of which there was, I feared, but little chance, the island being surrounded on all sides by reefs—it would be advised of the presence of an unfortunate castaway, and would, perhaps, make an effort to take him off.