The Rival Crusoes

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“If you play me that trick, master Nep, I shall tie you up. Remember, I will have no paying court to that fellow,” he cried out.

The dog came back with his tail between his legs, looking as if he would answer, “It will be your loss, master, but I obey you.”

Greatly refreshed by the water, Lord Reginald found that he had sufficient strength to get to the beach. He managed, not without difficulty, to cut off from the rocks a further supply of clams, with which he returned to his cave. He made up his fire, and dressed some of them. Nep watched him, showing that the eggs had not sufficiently satisfied his hunger. It was with difficulty, however, when cooked, that, hungry as he was, Lord Reginald could eat any of the shell-fish. Even had he been in full health and strength, such food was not sufficient, without vegetables, either to satisfy his hunger or keep him in health.

“There, Nep,” he said, throwing the remainder to his dog, “they’ll suit you better than they do me.”

Nep ate them up, and then came and lay down by his master’s side.

“I must try and get this bow finished, old dog. We will then try and procure some venison, or one of those hogs, if I cannot manage to shoot a bird,” he said.

He took up the stick he had been forming into a bow, and worked away as he had done on the previous night, but he had blunted his knife in cutting off the clams from the rocks, and had no means of sharpening it effectually. He tried to do so on a flat piece of rock, and then on the sole of his shoe, but after an attempt he found that it was very little sharper than before. He discovered, indeed, that he was ignorant of the way to sharpen a knife, as he was of most other arts.

At length, however, the bow was finished in a rough fashion, with a notch at each end to hold the string, which had now to be formed. He had first to untwist a piece of rope, then to divide it into small strands, and to twist them up again by means of a winch, which he manufactured like those he had seen on board. The string was much thicker than he wished to make it, but he could not otherwise give it sufficient strength. At last that was finished, and fitted to the bow. He had still the arrows to make. He remembered the reeds he had seen growing by the side of the stream, and rising with difficulty, he dragged himself along, supported by his stick, until he reached the spot. He selected a few of the requisite size and length, but with his blunt knife it took him a long time even to cut one, and his strength was almost exhausted before he had collected half a dozen. With these he returned to the cave.

The wings of the pigeons which Nep had left supplied him with feathers, which he bound on to one end. His difficulty was to form points. At first he thought that he could grind down some stones into the required shape, but after labouring away for some time, he had to give up the attempt. He then tried some hard pieces of wood, which he cut into shape and then hardened in the fire. Though not so heavy as he wished, he hoped that they might answer his purpose, and enable him to shoot straight for some distance. He had been all day without food except such shell-fish as he had taken in the morning, and he felt little able to draw his bow with any effect. As soon as he had finished his first arrow he got up, and placing it in the string, shot it along the shore. The arrow took a wavering flight, and flew some fifty yards or so, burying itself in the sand. Nep got up to it, barking with delight, while Lord Reginald crawled after it. On pulling it out, he found to his excessive vexation that the head had come off, and some time was expended in digging it out. Observing that he had not formed a sufficiently deep notch to bind it on tightly, he remedied the error, and was tolerably well satisfied with the result. Having finished the other five arrows, he set out, hoping to return with an ample supply of food. If he could but kill one deer, or a pig, or two or three birds, he would have sufficient to feed both himself and Neptune. The sun was still hot, but in his eagerness he thought little about it, and dragged himself along, hoping soon to see something at which to aim.

He would not have disdained even a monkey, if he could kill nothing else. He first made his way to the spring, where he had to quench his burning thirst. He then crawled on until he reached a tree, behind which he stood, hoping that some animal might come by at which he might take a steady aim. He waited and waited, however, in vain. He saw several deer in the distance, but they bounded along far out of range of his bow. At last he saw two hogs come grunting up, turning up the ground with their snouts in search of roots. They approached slowly. Trembling with eagerness, hoping that he might be able to kill one of them, he kept the arrow in the string, ready to shoot. The hogs came on moving from one side to the other, till they had got to within about thirty yards of it, when, fearing that they might suddenly turn off away from the tree, and sure that he could send his arrow to that distance, steadying himself as well as he could, he bent his bow. The arrow flew from the string, but though it struck the hog with a force which made the creature squeak, it glanced off from its thick hide, and both the animals, looking round, scampered away at a rate which made it hopeless to attempt overtaking them. Lord Reginald, however, getting ready another arrow, shot it, but it missed both hogs, who escaped, whisking their tails. He followed to pick up the arrows. Neither of them was broken. He next tried his skill at a cockatoo, but the arrow glanced against a bough, and the bird flew away with a scream of derision,—so poor Lord Reginald thought it. He was equally unsuccessful when aiming at some green pigeons. He had lost five of the arrows, and was almost in despair, when he caught sight of a monkey. He fixed the last arrow to the string and took as he thought a steady aim, but the monkey gave a nimble skip, and went chattering away to a distance, as if fully aware of the evil intended him, while the bow, as it sprang back again, gave a crack, and to Lord Reginald’s dismay he found that it was broken. He dashed it down to the ground.