How long I thus remained I know not, when I felt my head lifted from the ground, and opening my eyes, I saw an old man with long hair and beard, and a benignant expression of countenance, bending over me. Taking me in his arms, he carried me some way from the water, and then again placed me on the ground, unable to proceed farther.
“How came you here, lad?” he asked, when he saw that I had sufficiently recovered to speak. “Has your ship been cast away?”
I told him how I had been carried overboard, and inquired whether my companion had been saved.
“I have seen no one,” he said. “Indeed, I only just now came down to the spot to bathe, as it is one of the few places on the shore free from rocks; but I will search for him as soon as you are more recovered.”
I begged him to go at once, assuring him that I already felt better.
“I must give you some food first,” he said, hurrying away. He brought some fish and yams, which much restored my strength; but when I tried to get up and accompany him, I was unable to walk.
He went off with a long pole and a rope in his hand, telling me that I might rest without anxiety, as there were neither savages nor wild beasts in the island to injure me.
The warm sun soon dried my clothes, and, creeping under the shade of a rock, I fell asleep. I was awoke by hearing voices, and to my great joy, on looking up, I saw the old man, accompanied by Bill, who told me that he had clung to the timber, which had been drifted some way along the shore into a sheltered bay, where it had grounded. Thence he had scrambled over the rocks, and after searching in vain for me, had sat down in deep grief, under the idea that I had been lost.
Assisted by Bill, the old man led me to his hut, built against the side of rock at the foot of a high hill. Here he placed before us some more food.
“I cannot but welcome you, my lads,” he said; “for I have spent three weary years in solitude since I was wrecked off this island, I being the sole survivor of a whole ship’s company. Though I have constantly been on the look-out since then, not a sail has come near enough to see my signals—the flag I have hoisted by day, and the beacons I have kept burning at night. When I caught sight of your ship yesterday, I was in hopes that she was approaching; but when the gale came on I knew she could only do so with great peril, and was thankful when I saw her weather the island.”