As soon as my patron saw me, "Ah, poor Sindbad!" exclaimed he, "I was in great trouble to know what was become of you. I have been at the forest, where I found a tree newly pulled up, and your bow and arrows on the ground, and I despaired of ever seeing you more. Pray tell me what befell you." I satisfied his curiosity, and we both of us set out next morning to the hill. We loaded the elephant which had carried us with as many teeth as he could bear; and when we were returned, my master thus addressed me: "Hear now what I shall tell you. The elephants of our forest have every year killed us a great many slaves, whom we sent to seek ivory. For all the cautions we could give them, those crafty animals destroyed them one time or other. God has delivered you from their fury, and has bestowed that favor upon you only. It is a sign that He loves you, and has some use for your service in the world. You have procured me incredible wealth; and now our whole city is enriched by your means, without any more exposing the lives of our slaves. After such a discovery, I can treat you no more as a slave, but as a brother. God bless you with all happiness and prosperity. I henceforth give you your liberty; I will also give you riches."
To this I replied: "Master, God preserve you. I desire no other reward for the service I had the good-fortune to do to you and your city but leave to return to my own country." "Very well," said he, "the monsoon will in a little time bring ships for ivory. I will then send you home." I stayed with him while waiting for the monsoon; and during that time we made so many journeys to the hill, that we filled all our warehouses with ivory. The other merchants who traded in it did the same, for my master made them partakers of his good-fortune.
The ships arrived at last, and my master himself having made choice of the ship wherein I was to embark, loaded half of it with ivory on my account, laid in provisions in abundance for my passage, and besides obliged me to accept a present of some curiosities of the country of great value. After I had returned him a thousand thanks for all his favors I went aboard. We stopped at some islands to take in fresh provisions. Our vessel being come to a port on the mainland in the Indies, we touched there, and, not being willing to venture by sea to Bussorah, I landed my proportion of the ivory, resolving to proceed on my journey by land. I realized vast sums by my ivory, bought several rarities, which I intended for presents, and when my equipage was ready, set out in company with a large caravan of merchants. I was a long time on the journey, and suffered much, but was happy in thinking that I had nothing to fear from the seas, from pirates, from serpents, or from the other perils to which I had been exposed.
I at last arrived safe at Bagdad, and immediately waited upon the caliph, to give him an account of my embassy. He loaded me with honors and rich presents, and I have ever since devoted myself to my family, kindred, and friends.
Sindbad here finished the relation of his seventh and last voyage, and then addressing himself to Hindbad, "Well, friend," said he, "did you ever hear of any person that suffered so much as I have done? Is it not reasonable that, after all this, I should enjoy a quiet and pleasant life?" As he said these words, Hindbad kissed his hand, and said, "Sir, my afflictions are not to be compared with yours. You not only deserve a quiet life, but are worthy of all the riches you possess, since you make so good a use of them. May you live happily for a long time." Sindbad ordered him to be paid another hundred sequins, and told him to give up carrying burdens as a porter, and to eat henceforth at his table, for he wished that he should all his life have reason to remember that he henceforth had a friend in Sindbad the Sailor.
ROBINSON CRUSOE
Although hundreds have tried, both at home and abroad, no one has been able to write a book that could take the place of Robinson Crusoe, the story of that sturdy, voyaging Englishman who was always on the lookout for adventures and was never discouraged by any circumstances in which he found himself. The picture of the brave captain in his hairy goatskin clothes, Poll on his shoulder, his faithful dog by his side, and Friday following along behind, is one that remains stamped for life on every reader's mind.
Like all great books, it interests people of all ages. To the child it is a fascinating fairy tale; to the older boys and girls it is a story of stirring adventure, while to the mature man it is a picture of civilization. And so it has come to be read again and again, and admired and cherished the world over.
Robinson Crusoe was written in 1719 by Daniel Defoe, the son of a butcher, when he was over sixty years of age. His son deserted and deceived him, as Robinson Crusoe deserted and deceived his father, and it almost broke the old man's heart.