The Rival Crusoes

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“That verdure cannot exist without water,” he said to himself; “there must be some near at hand. Surely, if it exists Nep will find it.” As he advanced further he found himself in a small valley running directly up from the sea, and shortly afterwards his eye fell on the sheen of water. It appeared to be a stream running down the centre and losing itself in the porous sand before it reached the ocean. He uttered a cry of joy, and pushed forward. He was soon stooping down, lapping the water up eagerly with his hand. He then began to feel the pangs of hunger. The only fruit he could discover were cocoanuts, but they hung so high above his head that he had no hope of obtaining any. He was too weak to attempt climbing even the smallest of the trees on which they grew. He thought of various devices for bringing them down. He might manage to get some could he find a long thin line which, by means of a stone, he might throw over the boughs. Then he searched about for other food. He looked also anxiously for human habitations. The sun beat down with intense heat into the valley, and the tall trees afforded but little shade. He was compelled at length to retreat towards the cavern. That, at all events, would be cool, he thought. A few more cocoanut trees only had to be passed, when, just as he was going under the boughs of one, he saw a large brown mass covered with fibre lying before him. Though he had never before seen a cocoanut when growing in a wild state, he knew what it was. He seized it eagerly, and began tearing off the outer cover. Conveying it to the cave, with a piece of stone he broke off the top, and having swallowed the refreshing juice in the interior, he soon broke it to pieces so as to get at the flesh. With this he somewhat satisfied the gnawings of hunger.

“Such food won’t suit you, my poor dog!” he said, looking at Nep. However, the dog wagged his tail, and very readily swallowed a few of the pieces cut out of the shell, which his master threw him. He had now to consider what was next to be done. His eye fell on the body of poor Voules.

“He was a miserable counsellor, and did me harm by attempting to flatter me; though I confess that I had but little real regard for him, I certainly wish that he was still alive; but as he has gone, I must endeavour to pay him the respect I would to any fellow-creature, and give him decent burial.” Saying this, he got up and looked about to settle by what means he could accomplish his object. The shore was strewn with timber and pieces of plank of all shapes. Hunting about he soon found a piece which would answer his purpose, though had he possessed an axe he might have chopped it into a more suitable shape; as it was, however, it would have to serve his purpose. His next care was to select some fitting spot for the grave. He pitched on one under the cliff, where the sand appeared sufficiently soft, while the shape of the rocks around would make it easily recognised.

He began to dig away, but the sand fell in almost as quickly as he shovelled it out of the pit, and he had greatly to increase its size before he could reach any depth. He felt sick at heart as he performed his unaccustomed task.

Neptune stood by watching him, apparently understanding his object, although he could render no assistance. At last the grave was dug. His courage almost gave way as he prepared to place the body of his late companion—one whom he had known for so many years—in his last resting-place. While chafing Voules’s chest he had observed a locket hanging to a riband. He undid it, that he might deliver it to his friends. On opening it he saw that it contained the miniature of a young and pretty girl.

“Poor thing!” he said. “She thought him probably all that is brave and good. Now she’ll value him the more because he has gone! I wouldn’t undeceive her for worlds, though I have but little chance of ever being able to deliver this to his friends.” He took his watch, and a few other articles. There was a pocket-book, but he had neither time nor inclination to look into it. Indeed, in all probability, whatever writing there was had been obliterated by salt water. Among other things was a small pocket spyglass, which was likely to prove useful. He found, on trying to lift the body, that his strength was insufficient for the task, so that he had to drag it by the collar of the coat to the edge of the grave, into which he managed to lower it.

“Rest there, my poor shipmate,” he said. “I little thought when we were last on shore, amusing ourselves to our hearts’ content, that such would so soon be your end. Yet, what may be mine?”

He rested for some moments, gazing with a sort of fascination on the dead body, unwilling to cover it up for ever from view. “It must be done!” he said at length, and he began to shovel in the sand, a task which was very quickly accomplished.

“Now I am all alone, the sole inhabitant of this island. That, however, would be better than finding it peopled by a savage tribe, who would either kill me or make me work for them as a slave. Had I the strength, I would build a tomb of rock over him, but he’ll rest well enough without it. I suppose there are no creatures which will come and dig him up.”

He would gladly after this have rested in his cave, for the rays of the sun, now high in the heavens, beat down with intense force on his unprotected head. At the same time, the pangs of hunger reminded him that he must go in search of more substantial food than cocoanuts would afford. He had heard that turtles laid their eggs on the sandy beaches of these islands, but whether he should find them at this time of the year, or whether the young turtles had been hatched and crawled away, he was utterly ignorant. As he walked along the shore, he carefully examined the sand, in the hopes of finding some mounds or the marks of turtles’ feet to show where their eggs had been deposited, but not an indication of any sort could he discover.