LITTLE BLUB BOOK NO. C CQ
Edited by E. Haldeman-Julius Zj+JJ
Robinson Crusoe
DANIEL DEFOE
Edited by Lloyd E. Smith

BEQUEST
[UNIVERSITY ..r MICHIGAN
I GENERAL LIBRARY
LITTLE BLUE BOOK NO.
Edited by £. Haldeman-Julius
559
Robinson Crusoe
Daniel Defoe
Edited by Lloyd E. Smith
HALDEMAN-JULIUS COMPANY
GIRARD, KANSAS
Copyright 1924,
Haldeman-Julius Company
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
'DANIEL DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
FOREWORD
Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe is a book
more than two centuries old (it was written
in 1719-1720); yet, in spite of the vicissitudes
of contemporary critics and posterity, it has
retained an astonishingly wide popularity.
Defoe's abilities were more journalistic than
artistic: Robinson Crusoe is famous, not for its
plot, its characterization, or its emotional pas-
sages, for there are few if any of these quali-
ties present in any important degree, but for
its amazing array of accurate, convincing de-
tails. The story is ample evidence of Defoe's
skill at describing purely imaginary scenes
with the fidelity of an eye-witness. It is easy
to believe in the faee of so many "facts";
Crusoe is amusingly human in exhibiting just
the right measure of redeeming folly with his
heroic courage, ability, and wisdom.
Robinson Crusoe has been acclaimed as the
first English novel. Whether it is or not is a
matter for authorities to settle among them-
selves; it matters very little to the reader, and
certainly neither detracts from nor adds to
the zest of the narrative. It is principally an
unadorned adventure story; save for a moral-
izing passage here and there, it is purely and
simply a record of what happened.
The book is interesting in quite another way,
too. It is among the few temporarily success-
ful literary hoaxes practised by clever authors
6 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
propensity of nature, tending directly to the
life of misery which was to befall me.
(Crusoe finally breaks away, parental op-
position notwithstanding, and goes to sea. He
meets with disaster almost at once, but sur-
vives, and is not dissuaded. Circumstances
take him to the coast of Africa as a trader,
and a successful venture leads him to embark
further. Captured by Moorish pirates, he
serves as a slave until finally, with the aid
of Xury, a slave-boy, he makes good his escape
and arrives in Brazil. Here he becomes a
planter among the Portuguese, and attains a
fair degree of prosperity. A slave-purchasing
expedition is fitted out, spurred on by Crusoe's
tales of African wealth to be had for mere
trinkets, and he ships as supercargo.)
I was hurried on, and obeyed blindly the dic-
tates of my fancy rather than my reason; and,
accordingly, the ship being fitted out, and the
cargo furnished, and all things done, as by
agreement, by my partners in the voyage, I
went on board in an evil hour, the 1st of Sep-
tember, 1659, being the same day eight years
that I went from my father and mother at
Hull, in order to act the rebel to their author-
ity, and the fool to my own interests. ...
The same day I went on board we set sail,
standing away to the northward upon our own
coast, with design to stretch over for the
African coast, when we came about ten or
twelve degrees of northern latitude, which, it
seems, was the manner of course in those days.
. . . We passed the line in about twelve
day's time, and were, by our last observation,
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 7
in seven degrees twenty-two minutes north-
ern latitude, when a violent tornado, or hurri-
cane, took us quite out of our knowledge. It
began from the southeast, came about to the
northwest, and then settled in the northeast;
from whence it blew in such a terrible man-
ner, that for twelve days together we could do
nothing but drive, and scudding away before
it, let it carry us whither ever fate and the
fury of the winds directed; and during these
twelve days, I need not say that I expected
every day to be swallowed up; nor, indeed,\
did any in the ship expect to save their lives.
(They find themselves upon the coast of
Guiana, north of Brazil, and, in need of repairs,
they resolve "to stand away for Barbadoes,"
when, in the latitude of twelve degrees eigh-
teen minutes, another storm overtakes them.)
In this distress, the wind still blowing very
hard, one of our men early in the morning cried
out, "Land!" and we had no sooner run out
of the cabin to look out, in hopes of seeing
whereabouts in the world we were, than the
ship struck upon a sand, and in a moment,
her motion being so stopped, the sea broke
over her in such a manner, that we expected
that we should all have perished immediately;
and we were immediately driven into our
close quarters, to shelter us from the very
foam and spray of the sea. . . .
Now, though we thought that the wind did
a little abate, yet the ship having thus struck
upon the sand, and sticking too fast for us
to expect her getting off, we were in a* dread-
ful condition indeed, and had nothing to do
8 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
but to think of saving our lives as well as we
could. We had a boat at our stern just be-
fore the storm, but she was first staved by
dashing against the ship's rudder, and in the
next place, she broke away, and either sunk,
or was driven off to sea;^so there was no hope
from her. We had another boat on board,
but how to get her off into the sea was a
doubtful thing; however, there was no time
to debate, for we fancied the ship would break
in pieces every minute, and some told us she
was actually broken already.
In this distress, the mate of our vessel laid
hold of the boat, and with the help of the rest
of the men, got her slung over the ship's
side; and getting all into her, let go, and com-
mitted ourselves, being eleven in number, to
God's mercy and the wild sea. . . .
What the shore was, whether rock or sand,
whether steep or shoal, we knew not; the only
hope that could rationally give us the least
shadow of expectation, was, if we might find
some bay or gulf, or the mouth of some river,
where by great chance we might have run our
boat in, or got under the lee of the land, and
perhaps made smooth water. But there was
nothing like this appeared; but as we made
nearer and nearer the shore, the land looked
more frightful than the sea.
After we had rowed, or rather driven, about
a league and a half, as we reckoned it, a rag-
ing wave, mountain-like, came rolling astern
of us, and plainly bade us expect the coup de
grace. In a word, it took us with such a fury,
that it overset the boat at once; and separat-
DEFOE'S R6BINSON CRUSOE 9
ing us, as well from the boat as from one an-
other, gave us not time to say "O, God!" for
we were all swallowed up in a moment.
Nothing can describe the confusion of
thought which I felt, when I sunk into the
water; for though I swam very well, yet I
could not deliver myself from the waves so as
to draw breath, till that wave having driven
me, or rather carried me, a vast way towards
the shore, and having spent itself, went back,
and left me upon the land almost dry, but
half dead with the water I took in. I had
so much presence of mind, as well as breath
left, that seeing myself nearer .the main land
than I expected, I got upon my feet, and en-
deavored to make on towards the land as fast
as I could, before another wave should return
and take me up again; but I soon found it
was impossible to avoid it; for I saw the sea
coming after me as high as a great hill, and
as ferocious as an enemy, which I had no
means or strength to contend with: my busi-
ness was to hold my breath, and raise myself
upon the water, if I could; and so, by swim-
ming, to preserve my breathing and pilot my-
self towards the shore, if possible, my greatest
concern now being, that the sea, as it would
carry me a great way towards the shore when
it came on, might not carry me back again
with it when it gave back towards the sea.
(Battling with the waves, Crusoe finally at-
tains dry land, and is filled with overwhelming
joy at his deliverance. His comrades, less
fortunate, were drowned.)
I cast my eyes to the stranded vessel, when,
10 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
the breach and froth of the sea being so big,
I could hardly see it, it lay so far off; and
considered, Lord! how was it possible I could
get on shore?
After I had solaced my mind with the com-
fortable part of my condition, I began to look
round me, to see what kind of place I was in,
and what next was to be done: and I soon
found my comforts abate, and that, in a word,
I had a dreadful deliverance: for I was wet,
had no clothes to shift me, nor anything either
to eat or drink, to comfort me; neither did I
see any prospect before me, but that of per-
ishing with hunger, or being devoured by wild
beasts: and that which was particularly af-
flicting to me was, that I had no weapon,
either to hunt and kill any creature for my
sustenance, or to defend myself against any
other creature that might desire to kill me
for theirs. In a word, I had nothing about
me but a knife, a tobacco-pipe, and a little
tobacco in a box. This was all my provision;
and this threw me into terrible agonies of
mind, that for a while, I ran about like a
madman. Night coming upon me, I began,
with a heavy heart, to consider what would
be my lot if there were any ravenous beasts
in that country, as at night they always come
abroad for their prey.
All the remedy that offered to my thoughts,
at that time, was to get up into a thick bushy
tree, like a fir, but thorny, which grew near
me, and where I resolved to sit all night, and
consider the next day what death I should die,
for as yet I saw no prospect of life. I walked
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 11
about a furlong from the shore, to see if I
could find any fresh water to drink, which I
did to my great joy; and having drank, and
put a little tobacco in my mouth to prevent
hunger, I went to the tree, and getting up into
it, endeavored to place myself so that if I
should sleep I might not fall. And having cut
me a short stick, like a truncheon, for my
defense, I took up my lodging; and having
been excessively fatigued, I fell fast asleep,
and slept as comfortably as, I believe, few
could have done in my condition, and found
myself more refreshed with it, than, I think, I
ever was on such an occasion.
(Morning discloses Crusoe's ship, washed in-
shore to within a mile of dry land, so that he
seeks to reach it to salvage needed articles.
Low tide provides an opportunity, he swims
across a small intervening belt of water, finds
a rope, and hauls himself aboard.)
I got up into the forecastle of the ship.
Here I found that the ship was bulged, and
had a great deal of water in her hold; but that
she lay.so on the side of a bank of hard sand,
or rather earth, that her stern lay lifted up
upon the bank, and her head low, almost to
the water. By this means, all her quarter was
free, and all that was in that part was dry:
for you nfey be sure my first work was to
search, and to see what was spoiled and what
was free. And, first, I found that all the ship's
provisions were dry and untouched by the
water, and being Tery well disposed to eat,
I went to the bread-room, and filled my
12 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
pockets with biscuit, and ate it as I went
about other things, for I had no time to lose.
I also found some rum in the great cabin, of
which I took a large dram, and which I had,
indeed, need enough of to spirit me for what
was before me. Now I wanted nothing but
a boat, to furnish myself with many things
which I foresaw would be very necessary to
me.
(With spare yards, spars of wood, and a*
spare top mast or two, Crusoe fashions a rough
raft, loading it with planks and boards, and
three seamen's chests filled with "bread, rice,
three Dutch cheeses, five pieces of dried goat's
flesh, and a little remainder of European corn,
which had been laid by for some fowls which
we brought to sea with us, but the fowls were
killed." Liquors, a supply of clothes, the car-
penter's chest of tools, two fowling-pieces and
two pistols, with powder-horns and shot, and
two rusty swords are added to the load. Crusoe
also finds two barrels of powder (a third is
wet) which he puts on his raft. After some
trouble, but with a calm sea, a rising tide, and
a helpful wind, Crusoe beaches his raft with
its valuable load. A short exploring expedition
to a nearby hill discovers that he is marooned
on an island: "no land to be seen except some
rocks, which lay a great way off; and two
small islands less than this, which lay about
three leagues to the west.")
I found also that the island I was on was
barren, and as I saw good reason to believe, un-
inhabited except by wild beasts, of whom, how-
ever, I saw none. Yet I saw abundance of
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 13
fowls, but I knew not their kinds; neither,
when I killed them, could I tell what was fit
for food, and what not. At my coming back,
I shot at a great bird, which I saw sitting
upon a tree, on the side of a great wood. I
believe it was the first gun shot that had
been fired there since the creation of the
world. I had no sooner fired, than from all
parts of the wood there arose an innumerable
number of fowls, of many sorts, making a
confused screaming and crying, every one ac-
cording to his usual note, but not one of them
of any kind that I knew. As for the creature. I
killed, I took it to be a kind of a hawk, its
color and beak resembling it, but it had no
talons or claws more than common. Its flesh
was carrion, and fit for nothing.
(Returning, Crusoe unloads his raft and
forms of the planks and chests a barricade
against possible attack. Desiring to salvage
everything possible from the ship, he makes
another trip, building another raft and load-
ing it. Nails and spikes, a screw-jack, several
hatchets, a grindstone, muskets and musket
bullets, clothes, a spare sail, a hammock, and
some bedding make up his cargo. Of the sail
he fashions a tent, and barricades it; and for
several days thereafter makes further trips to
the ship, securing added provisions and ma-
terials.)
I had been now thirteen days on shore, and
had been eleven times on board the ship, in
which time I had brought away all that one
pair of hands could well be supposed capable
to bring; though I believe verily, had the calm
14 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
weather held, I should have brought away the
whole ship, piece by piece; but preparing the
twelfth time to go on board, I found the wind
began to rise; however, at low water I went on
board, and though I thought I had rummaged
the cabin so effectually, that nothing more could
be found, yet I discovered a locker with draw-
ers in it, in one of which I found two or three
razors, and one pair of large scissors, with some
ten or a dozen good knives and forks: in an-
other I found about thirty-six pounds value in
money,—some European coin, some Brazil, some
pieces of eight, some gold and some silver.
(Money seems useless to Crusoe now, but he
takes it, with the other things, and carries
them ashore on his person. The threatened
storm breaks, and during the night the ship
vanishes into the deep.)
I found a little plain on the side of a rising
hill, whose front towards this little plain was
steep as a house-side, so that nothing could
come down upon me from the top. On the side
of the rock there was a hollow place, worn a
little way in, like the entrance or door of a
cave; but there was not really any cave, or
way into the rock, at all:
On the flat of the green, just before this
hollow place, I resolved to pitch my tent.
(A double tent is made, behind a fence of
tall stakes, to bd climbed by a ladder Crusoe
would draw after him. Behind the tent, in the
hill-wall, Crusoe scoops out a cave-like cellar.
He places his store of goods and provisions
where they will best be preserved, separating
his powder into several parcels so that if any
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 15
should take fire it would not all be destroyed.
Goats are found onf the island, and supply
Crusoe with meat.)
After I had been there about ten or twelve
days it came into my thoughts that I should
lose my reckoning of time for want of books,
and pen and ink, and should even forget the
Sabbath days; but to prevent this, I cut with
my knife upon a large post, in capital letters;
and making it into a great cross, I set up on
the shore where I first landed, "I came on shore
here the 30th of September, 1659."
Upon the sides of this square post I cut every
day a notch with my knife, and every seventh
notch was as long again as the rest, and every
first day of the month, as long again as that
long one; and thus I kept my calendar, or week-
ly, monthly, and yearly reckoning of time.
(Among other things, Crusoe has brought
two cats and a ddg, pens, ink, and paper, books,
three Bibles, compasses and other nautical in-
struments ashore with him from the ship.
With infinite labor, expended over long periods
of time, Crusoe constructs a rough table and
chair, and shelves and pegs for his diverse ac-
cumulation of necessaries. To make boards
he has to shave down a single trunk to the
thickness or thinness desired, making only one
board from a tree! For solace in his loneli-
ness, he begins to keep a journal, writing his
adventures and his thoughts as he might tell
them to a companion, if he had one. The first
few days record all over again the events thus
far described, to bring the book down to date.)
16 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
THE JOURNAL
Nov. 4.—This morning I began to order my
times of work, of going out with my gun, time
of sleep, and time of diversion; viz.: every
morning I walked out with my gun for two or
three hours, if it did not rain; then employed
myself to work till about eleven o'clock; then
ate what I had to live on; and from twelve
till two I lay down to sleep, the weather being
excessively hot; and then, in the evening, to
work again. . . .
Note.—I soon neglected my keeping Sundays;
for, omitting my mark for them on my post, I
forgot which was which. . . .
(Crusoe, with the same infinite labor that
all his work, for lack of proper tools, requires,
constructs needed appliances to enlarge his
cave and improve his habitation generally.)
Dec. 27.—Killed a young goat, and lamed an-
other so that I caught it, and led it home on a
string; when I had it at home, I bound and
splintered up its leg, which was broke.
N. B.—I took such care of it that it lived,
and the leg grew well and as strong as ever;
but by my nursing it so long it ^rew tame,
and fed upon the little green at my door, and
would not go away. This was the first time
that I entertained a thought of breeding up
some tame creatures, that I might have food
when my powder and shot were all spent.
(Crusoe strengthens his wall, and camou-
flages it so that it will not be suspected for a
habitation. A. chance throwing-away of the
chicken-corn he brought from the ship pro-
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 11
vides him with green corn, all of which he re-
serves for seed. Early in April an earthquake
shakes the island, causing a landslide in
Crusoe's cave and warning him to move his
habitation. The' quake, however, exposes the
old wreck of the ship, and the desire to salv-
age still more keeps Crusoe busily employed
through May and June. He discovers a turtle,
which varies his diet of meat.)
June 19.—Very ill, and shivering, as if the
weather had been cold.
June 20.—No rest all night; violent pains in
my head, and feverish.
(Crusoe is sick with a kind of ague, and in
his despair gives way to much religious and
withal doubting philosophy and moralizing on
his past life and present condition. This lasts
through the 29th, and on the 30th he is much
improved. On July 4th he begins a serious
reading of the Bible, brought about by his de-
liverance from death by illness.)
It was on the 15th of July that I began to
take a more particular survey of the island
itself. I went up the creek first, where, as I
hinted, I brought my rafts on shore. I found,
after I came about two miles up, that the tide
did not flow any higher.'
(Crusoe discovers tobacco growing, and
aloes, and sugar cane, the latter imperfect
from being uncultivated. Various fruits, in-
cluding limes and lemons, a species of grapes,
and some melons, are found. Crusoe decides
not to move his first dwelling, which is near
the sea, but prepares a second home within
the island where he spends the milder da^s.
18 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
His cats multiply until he is forced to kill
them like vermin. Thus August passes.)
Sept. 30.—I was now come to the unhappy
anniversary of my landing. I cast up the
notches on my post, and found I had been on
shore three hundred and sixty-five days. I
kept this day as a solemn fast, setting it apart
for religious exercise.
(Crusoe, beginning another year, renews his
observance of the Sabbath, but finds, later,
that he has lost a day or two in his reckoning.)
I found now that the seasons of the year
might generally be divided, not into summer
and winter, as in Europe, but into the rainy
seasons and the dry seasons, which were gen-
erally thus:—
'The half of February, the whole of March,
and the half of April—rainy, the sun being
then on or near the equinox.
The half of April, the whole of May, Juno,y
and July, and the half of August—dry, the sun
being then to the north of the line.
The half of August, the whole of September,
and the half of October—rainy, the sun being
then come back.
The half of October, the whole of November,
December, and January, and the half of Feb-
ruary—dry, the sun being then to the south of
the line.
(Crusoe weaves needed baskets and con-
tinues his exploration of the island. On the
west coast he finds numerous turtles and
fowls, and, fifteen or twenty leagues away, he
sights land of some unknown sort. Capturing
a*wild parrot, he tames it and teaches it to
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 19
talk. The second anniversary of his landing
comes round, which he celebrates, as he did
the first, with devout observance. In Novem-
ber and December, after considerable trouble
with hares that eat the stalks and fowls that
pick at the grain, Crusoe reaps a fair crop of
rice and barley. Finding suitable clay, after
a long search, he manufactures rough jars or
earthen vessels which serve as needed re-
ceptacles. By1 accident, he discovers these
may be baked hard, and thus acquires long-
desired dishes in which to cook broths and
hold liquids. Unable to secure stone or per-
form the labor to make a mortar, he fashions
a substitute from a block of hard wood, and
thus grinds his corn. For sifting his meal,
he makes sieves from a few remnants of
calico or muslin.)
The baking part was the next thing to be
considered, and how I should make bread
when I came to have corn; for, first, I had no
yeast; as to that part, there was no supplying
the want, so I did not concern myself much
about it. But for an oven, I was indeed in
great pain. At length I found out an experi-
ment for that also, which was this: I made
some earthen vessels very broad, but not deep,
that is to say, about two feet diameter, and
not above nine inches deep; these I burned in
the fire, as I had done the other, and laid them
by; and when I wanted to bake, I made a
great fire upon my hearth, which I had paved
with some square tiles, of my own baking and
burning also; bn% I sbpuld not call them
square.
20 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
(These matters take up the greater part of
Crusoe's third year. He contemplates the
land he has seen on the other side of the
island, and though he desires to reach it, he
realizes the nearly impossible nature of such
a wish, and knows too that it may be inhabited
by savages or cannibals. However, he finds
his long-lost ship's long boat, nearly bottom
up on a far shore of the island, and tries to
move it with crudely fashioned rollers, all to
no avail. Sight of it serves to urge him on to*
make a boat or a canoe of his own, which he
sets out to carve from the trunk of a tree.)
I felled a cedar-tree, and I question much
whether Solomon ever had such a one for the
building of the Temple of Jerusalem: it was
five feet ten inches diameter at the lower part
next the stump, and four feet eleven inches
diameter at the end of twenty-two feet; after
which it lessened for a while, and then parted
into branches. It was not without infinite
labor that I felled this tree; I was twenty days
hacking and hewing at it at the bottom; I was
fourteen more geeting the branches and limbs,
and the vast spreading head, cut off, which I
hacked and hewed through with axe and
hatchet, and inexpressible labor: after this, it
cost me a month to shape it and dub it to a
proportion, and to something like the bottom
of a boat, that it might swim upright as it
ought to do. It cost me near three months
more to clear the inside, and work it out so as
to make an exact boat of it: this I did, indeed,
without fire, by mere mallet and chisel, and
by th^e ctfnt of hard labor, till I had brought it
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 21
to be a very handsome periagua, and big
enough to have carried six and twenty men,
and consequently big enough to have carried
me and ail my cargo.
When I had gone through this work, I was
extremely delighted with it. The boat was
really much bigger than ever I saw a canoe or
periagua, that was made of one tree, in my
life. Many a weary stroke it had cost, you
may be sure; and had I gotten it into the
water, I make no question but I should have
begun the maddest voyage, and the most un-
likely to be performed, that ever was under-
taken.
But all my devices to get it into the water
failed me; though they cost me infinite labor
too. It lay about one hundred yards from the
water, and not more; but the first inconven-
ience was, it was up hill towards the creek.
Well, to take away this discouragement, I re-
solved to dig into the surface of the earth, and
so make a declivity: this I began, and it cost
me a prodigious deal of pains (but who grudge
pains that have their deliverance in view?);
but when this was worked through, and this
difficulty managed, it was still much the same,
for I could not more stir the canoe than I
could the other boat. Then I measured the
distance of ground, and resolved to cut a dock
or canal, to bring the water up to the canoe,
seeing I could not bring the canoe down to the
water. Well, I began this work; and when
I began to enter upon it, and calculate how
deep it was to be dug, how broad, how the
stuff was to be thrown out, I found that, bv
22 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
the number of hands I had, being none but my
own, it must have been ten or twelve years be-
fore I could have gone through with it; for
the shore lay so high, that at the upper end it
must have been at least twenty feet deep; so
at length, though with great reluctancy, I gave
this attempt over also.
(Poor, foolish Robinson Crusoe! This
classic example of human folly, in doing a
thing without looking ahead to see whether the
final result is possible—humorously exempli-
fied in the familiar act of a man painting him-
self into a corner, is among the most appeal-
ing touches that Defoe achieves in this narra-
tive. Crusoe now celebrates the fourth anni-
versary of his landing; and there follow at
some length moralizing passages establishing
that his fate is not nearly as bad as it might
have been. His ink, his biscuits, and much
of his clothing have by now become exhausted
or worn out.)
I have mentioned that I saved the skins of
all the creatures that I killed, I mean four-
footed ones, and I had them hung up stretched
out with sticks in the sun, by which means
some of them were so dry and hard that they
were fit for little, but others were very useful.
The first thing I made of these was a great
cap for my head, with the hair on the out-
side, to shoot off the rain, and this I per-
formed so well, that after, I made me a suit
of clothes wholly of these skins—that is to say,
a waistcoat, and breeches open at the knees,
. and bath loose, for they were rather wanting to
keep me cool than to keep me warm. I must
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 23
not omit to acknowledge that they were
wretchedly made; for if I was a had carpenter,
I was a worse tailor. However, they were such
as I made very good shift with, and when I
was out, if it happened to rain, the hair of
my waistcoat and cap heing outermost, I was
kept very dry.
After this, I spent a great deal of time and
pains to make an umbrella; I was indeed in
great want of one, and had a great mind to
make one: I had seen them made in the Brazils,
where they are very useful in the great he^ts
there, and I felt the-heats every jot as great
here, and greater, too, being nearer the
equinox; besides, as I was obliged to be much
abroad, it was a most useful thing to me, as
well for the rains as the heats. I took a
world of pains with it, and was a great while
before I could make anything likely to hold:
nay, after I thought I had hit the way, I spoiled
two or three before I made one to my mind:
but at last I made one that answered indiffer-
ently well; the main difficulty I found was
to make it let down. I could make it spread,
but if it did not let down too, and draw in, it
was not portable for me any way but just over
my head, which would not do. However, at
last, as I said, I made one to answer, so that-
it cast off the rain like a pent-house, and kept
off the sun so effectually that I could walk
out in the hottest of weather with greater ad-
vantage than I could before in the coolest, and
when I had no need of it, could close it, and
carry it under my arm. . . .
I cannot say that, after this, for five years,
24 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
any extraordinary thing happened to me, but
I lived on in the same course, in the same pos-
ture and place, as before; the chief things I
was employed in, besides my yearly labor of
planting my barley and rice, and curing my
raisins, of both which I always kept up just
enough to have sufficient stock of one year's
provision beforehand; I say, besides this year-
ly labor, and my daily pursuit of going out with
my gun, I had one labor, to make a canoe,
which at last I finished: so that, by digging
a canal to it of six feet wide and four feet
deep, I brought it into the creek, almost half
a mile. As for the first, which was so vastly
big, for I made it without considering before-
hand, as I ought to do, how I should be able
to launch it, so, never being able to bring it
into the water, or bring the water to it, I was
obliged to let it lie where it was, as a memo-
randum to teach me to be wiser the next time:
indeed, the next time, though I could not get
a tree proper for it, and was in a place where
I could not get the water to it at any less
distance than, as I have said, near half a
mile, yet, as I saw it was practicable at last, I
never gave it o>er; and though I was near two
years about it, yet I- never gru4ged my labor,
in hopes of having a boat to go off to sea
at last.
However, though my little periagua was fin-
ished, yet the size of it which I had in view
when I made the first; I mean of venturing
over to the terra firma, where it was above
forty miles broad; accordingly, the smallness
of my boat assisted to put an end to that
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 25
design, and now I thought no more of it. As
I had a boat, my next design was to make a
cruise round the island; for as I had been on
the other side m one place, crossing, as I
have already described it, over the land, so
the discoveries I made in that little journey
made me very eager to see other parts of the
coast; and now I had a boat, I thought of
nothing but sailing round the island. . . .
It was the 6th of November, in the sixth
year of my reign, or my captivity, which you
please, that I set out on this voyage, and I
found it much longer than I expected; for
though the island itself was not very large,
yet when I came to the east side of it, I found
a great ledge of rocks lie out about two
leagues into the sea, some above water, some
under it; and beyond that a shoal of sand,
lying dry a half a league more, so that I was
obliged to go a great way out to sea to double
the point.
(Venturing the point, Crusoe is caught in
sea currents and helplessly driven into the
open sea. A favorable wind helps him back,
but to the northern shore of the island, where
he is obliged to anchor his canoe in the harbor
of an inlet, being afraid to attempt a return
the way he had come, or to risk the other way
round of which he knows nothing. He hikes
overland to his "country-house" or "bower,"
which is the inland habitation he had made.)
I got over the fence, and laid me down in
the shade to rest my limbs, for11 was very
weary, and fell asleep; but judge, if you can,
that read my story, what a surprise I must
26 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOs
be in when I was awakened out of my sleep
by a voice, calling me by name several times,
"Robin, Robin, Robin Crusoe: poor Robin
Crusoe! Where are you, Robin Crusoe? Where
are you? Where have you been?"
I was so dead asleep at first, being fatigued
with rowing or paddling as it is called, the
first part of the day; and with walking the
latter part, that I did not wake thoroughly;
but dozing between sleeping and waking,
thought I dreamed that somebody spoke to
me; but as the voice continued to repeat,
"Robin Crusoe, Robin Crusoe," at last I began
to wake more perfectly, and was at first dread-
fully frightened, and started up in the utmost
consternation; but no sooner were my eyes
open, but I saw my Poll sitting on the top of
the hedge; and immediately knew that it was
he that spoke to me; for just in such bemoan-
ing language I had used to talk to him, and
teach him; and he had learned it so perfectly
that he 'would sit upon my finger, and lay his
bill close to my face, and cry, "Poor Robin
Crusoe! Where are you? Where have you
been? How came you here?" and such things
as I had taught him.
(The eleventh year of Crusoe's hermitage
finds his ammunition running low. He there-
fore sets traps for wild goats, and catches a
few, which he tames, and makes enclosures
or pastures for them. They provide him not
only with meat but also with milk, and hence
butter and otieese, after some experimenting.
He has provided himself with a costume all
of skins, a heterogeneous assemblage at best,
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 27
topped withal by his grotesque umbrella; and
though he keeps his beard close clipped with
scissors salvaged from the ship, he has allowed
his mustache to grow to heathen lengths. He
discovers that the sea currents which carried
him from the island changed and ebbed with
the tide; but rather than venture so far from
shore again, he leaves his boat on the north-
ern shore.)
It happened one day, about noon, going to-
wards my boat, I was exceedingly surprised
with the print of a man's naked foot on the
shore, which was very plain to be seen on the
sand. I stood like one thunderstruck, or as
if I had seen an apparition. I listened, I
looked round me, but I could hear nothing, nor
see anything; I went up to a rising ground,
to look farther; I went up the shore, and down
the shore, but it was all one: I could see no
other impression but that one. I went to it
again to see if there were any more, and to
observe if it might not be my fancy; but there
was no room for that; for there was exactly
the print of a foot—toes, heel, and every part
of a foot. How came it thither I knew not,
nor could I in the least imagine; but after in-
numerable fluttering thoughts, like a man per-
fectly confused and out of myself, I came home
to my fortification, not feeling, as we say, the
ground I went on, but terrified to the last de-
gree, looking behind me at every two or three
steps, mistaking every bush and tree, and
fancying every stump at a distance to be a
man. Nor is it possible to describe how many
various shapes my affrighted imagination rep-
28 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
resented in my fancy, and what strange, un-
accountable whimseys came into my thoughts
by the way.
When I came to my castle (for so I think I
called it ever after this), I fled into it like one
pursued. Whether I went over by the ladder,
as first contrived, or went in at the hole in
the rock, which I had called a door, I cannot
remember; no, nor could I remember the next
morning, for never frightened hare fled to
cover, or fox to earth, with more terror of mind
than I to this retreat.
(Crusoe imagines many wild solutions for
this foot-print, from savages to the devil him-
self; but as the days pass, his fears abate
somewhat. Verification of the print shows that
it is larger than Crusoe's own. His fears are
renewed, and he strengthens his fortifications
mightily. Fearing the discovery of his tame
flocks, Crusoe makes for them a new and
smaller pasture, where they are better pro-
tected—all this, without having seen any other
sign of danger than a single foot-print in the
sand.)
But to go on: after I had thus secured one
part of my little living stock, I went about the
whole island, searching for another private
place to make such another deposit; when,
wandering more to the west point of the
island than I had ever done yet, and looking out
to sea, I thought I saw a boat upon the sea,
at a great distance. I had found a perspective
glass or two in one of the seamen's chests,
which I saved out of our ship, but I had it
not about me; and this was so remote that I
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 29
could not tell what to make of it, though I
looked at it till my eyes were not able to hold
to look any longer: whether it was a boat or
not, I do not know, but as I dsecended from
the hill I could see no more of it, so I gave
it over; oniy I resolved to go no more out
without a perspective glass in my pocket.
When I was come down the hill to the end of
the island, where, indeed, I had never been
before, I was presently convinced that the
seeing the print of a man's foot was not such
a strange thing as I imagined; and but that it
was a special providence that I was cast upon
the side of the island where the savages never
came, I should easily have known that nothing
was more frequent than for the canoes from the
main, when they happened to be a little too far
out at sea, to sftoot over to that side of the
island for harbor; likewise, as they often met
and fought in their canoes, the victors, hav-
ing taken any prisoners, would bring them
over to this shore, where, according to their
dreadful customs, being all cannibals, they
would kill and eat them; of which hereafter.
When I was come down the hill to the shore,
as I said above, being the S. W. point of the
island, I was perfectly confounded and
amazed; nor is it possible for me to express the
horror of my mind, at seeing the shore spread
with skulls, hands, feet, and oth«r bones of
human bodies; and particularly, I observed a
place where there had been a fire made, and a
circle dug in the earth, like a cockpit, where
I supposed the savage wretches had sat down
30 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
to their inhuman feastings upon the bodies
of their fellow-creatures. . . .
I observed that these wretches never came
to this island in search of what they could get;
perhaps not seeking, no.t wanting, or. not ex-
pecting, anything here; and having often, no
doubt, been up the covered, woody part of it,
without finding anything to their purpose. I
knew I had been here now almost eighteen
years, and never saw the least footsteps of
human creature there before; and I might be
eighteen years more as entirely concealed as
I was now, if I did not discover myself to
them, which I had no manner of occasion to
do; it being my only business to keep myselt
entirely concealed where I was, unless I foun$
a better sort of creatures than cannibals to
make myself known to. Yet I entertained such
an abhorrence of the savage wretches that I
have been speaking of, and of the wretched in-
human custom of their devouring and eating
one another up, thaj I continued pensive and
sad, and kept close within my own circle, for
almost two years after this: when I say my
own circle, I mean by it my three plantations,
viz.: my castle, my country-seat (which I
called my bower), and my enclosure in • the
woods: nor did I look after this for any other
use than as an enclosure for my goats; for the
aversion which nature gave me to these hellish
wretches was such, that I was as fearful of
seeing them as of seeing the devil himself. I
did not so much as go to look after my boat
all this time, but began- rather to think of
making another; lor I could not think of ever
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 31
making any more attempts to bring the other
boat round the island to me, lest I should meet
with some of these creatures at sea; in which
case, if I had happened to have fallen into
their hands, I knew what would have been my
lot.
(Crusoe, grown calm and returned to his se-
date mode of life, is no less cautious and now
goes abroad armed with musket, pistols, and
a cutlass. He is thankful for his tame herds,
which make it unnecessary for him to fire his
weapons and risk attracting attention. He had
planned to attempt making some malt from his
barley, and brew himself some beer, but lack-
ing needed essentials, he turns his inventive
powers to quite another matter.)
I could think of nothing but how I might de-
stroy some of these monsters in their cruel,
bloody entertainment, and, if possible, save the
victim they should bring hither to destroy. It
would take up a larger volume than this whole
work is intended to be, to set down all the
contrivances I hatched, or rather brooded upon,
in my thoughts, for the destroying these crea-
tures, or at least frightening them so as to pre-
vent their coming hither any more; but all
this was abortive: nothing could be possible to
take effect, unless I was to be there to do it
myself: and what could one man do among
them, when perhaps there might be twenty or
thirty of them together with their darts, or
their bows and arrows, with which they could
shoot as true to a mark as I could with my
gun?
. . • I would place myself in ambush in some
22 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
convenient place, with my three guns all double
loaded, and in the middle of their bloody cere-
mony let fly at them, when I should be sure
to kill or wound perhaps two or three at every
shot; and then falling in upon them with my
three pistols and my sword, I made no doubt
but that, if there were twenty, I should kUl
them all. This fancy pleased my thoughts for
some weeks, and I was so full of it, that I often
dreamed of it, and sometimes, that I was just
going to let fly at them in my sleep. I went
so far with it in my imagination, that I em-
ployed myself several days to find out proper
places to put myself in ambuscade, as I said,
to watch for them, and I went, frequently to
the place itself, which was now grown more
familiar to me; but while my mind was thus
filled with thoughts of revenge and a bloody
putting twenty or thirty of them to the sword,
as I may call it, the horror I had at the place,
and at the signals of the barbarous wretches
devouring one another, abetted my malice.
Well, at length I found a place in the side of
the hill, where I was satisfied I might securely
wait till I saw any of their boats coming; and
might then, even before they would be ready
to come on shore, convey myself unseen into
some thickets of trees, in one of which there-
was a hollow large enough to conceal me en-
tirely; and there I might sit and observe all
their bloody doings, and take my full aim at
their heads, when they were so close together
as that it would be next to impossible that I
should miss my shot, or that I could fail wound-
ing three or four of them at the first shot. In
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 33
this place, then, I resolved to fulfil my design;
and accordingly, I prepared two muskets and
my ordinary fowling-piece. The two muskets
I loaded with a brace of slugs each, and four
or five smaller bullets, about the size of pistol
bullets; and the fowling-piece I loaded with
near a handful of swan-shot of the largest size;
I also loaded my pistols with about four bul-
lets each; and, in this posture, well provided
with ammunition for a second and third charge,
I prepared myself for my expedition.
(Crusoe makes a daily tour to the top of the
hill—about three miles from his castle—but
continuing this for three or four months and
seeing nothing, his ardor wanes. He begins to
feel also that it was wrong for him to con-
template this cold-blooded deed, since the sav-
ages act in the right as they see the right,
and have never harmed him. So he returns to
his life of caution, seeking ever to remain un-
seen and unheard on his own side of the island.
He removes his boat to a safer place, and, in
searching for a way to avoid the smoke neces-
sary to have a fire, comes upon a cave where
he pan make charcoal to burn under his oven.)
While I was cutting down some wood, I
perceived that, behind a very thick branch of
low brushwood or underwood, there was a kind
of hollow place: I was curious to look in it;
and getting with difficulty into the mouth of
it, I found it was pretty large, that is to say,
sufficient for me to stand upright in it, and
perhaps another with me; but I must confess
to you that I made more haste out than I did
in, when looking farther into the place, and
34 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
which was perfectly dark, I saw two broad
shining eyes of some creature, whether devil
or man I knew not, which twinkled like two
stars; the dim light from the cave's mouth
shining directly in, and making the reflection.
However, after some pause, I recovered myself,
and began to call myself a thousand fools, and
to think that he that was afraid to see the
devil, was not fit to live twenty years in an
island all alone; and that I might well think
there was nothing in this cave that was more
frightful than myself. Upon this, plucking
up my courage, I took up a firebrand, and in
I rushed again, with the stick flaming in my
hand; I had not gone three steps in, before
1 was almost as much frightened as before;
for I heard a very loud sigh, like that of a
man in some pain, and it was followed by a
broken noise, as of words half expressed, and
then a deep sigh again. I stepped back, and
was indeed struck with such surprise that it
put me in a cold sweat, and if I had had a hat
- n my head, I will not answer for it that my
hair might not have "lifted it off. But still
?>lucking up my spirits as well as I could, and
encouraging myself a little with considering
that the power and presence of God was every-
where, and was able to protect me, I stepped
forward again, and by the light of the fire-
brand, holding it up a little over my head, I
saw lying on the ground a monstrous, frigkt-
ful, old he-goat, just making his will, aa we
say, and gasping for life, and 0ying, indeed,
of mere old age. I stirred him a little to see
if I could get him out, and he essayed to get
DEFOE'S ROBTNSON CRUSOE 35
up, but was not able to raise himself; and
I thought with myself he might even lie there
—for if he had frightened me, so he would
certainly frighten any of' the savages, if any
one of them should be so hardy as to come
in there while he had any life in him.
(This cave proves spacious and desirable,
and Crusoe makes of it a safe retreat and
arsenal, storing in it arms, ammunition, and
provender. His dog had died after sixteen years
on the island, Poll lives until twenty-six years
of Crusoe's sojourn have passed; but other
domestics are recruited among the cats, the
goats, and other parrots.)
It was now the month of December, as I said
above, in my twenty-third year; and this, be-
ing the southern solstice (for winter I cannot
call it), was the particular time of my harvest,
and required me to be pretty much abroad in
the fields, when, going out early in the morning
even before it was thorough daylight, I was
surprised with seeing a light of some fire upon
the shore, at a distance frojn me of about
two miles, towards that part of the island where
I had observed some savages had been, as be-
fore, and not on the other side,—but, to my
great affliction, it was on my side of the island.
(Crusoe, in fear, retreats within his castle
and "lays low" for some two hours.)
After sitting awhile longer, and musing what
I should do in this case, I was not able to bear
sitting in ignorance any longer; so setting up
my ladder to the side of the hill, where there
was a flat place, as I observed before, and then
pulling the ladder after me, I set it up again,
and mounted to the top of the hill, and pulling
out my perspective-glass, which I had taken
on purpose, I laid me down flat on my belly
pn the ground and began to look for the place.
36 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
I presently found there were no less than nine
naked savages, sitting round a small fire they
had made, not to warm them, for they had
no need of that, the weather being extremely
hot, but, as I supposed, to dress some of their
barbarous diet of human flesh which they had
brought with them, whether alive or dead I
could not tell.
They had two canoes with them, which they
had hauled up upon the shore; and as it was
then the ebb of tide, they seemed to me to
wait for the return of the flood to go away
again. It is not easy to imagine what confusion
this sight put me into, especially seeing them
£ome on my side of the island, and so near to
me; but when I considered their coming must
be always with the current of the ebb, I began
afterwards to be more sedate in my mind, be-
ing satisfied that I might go abroad with safety
all the time of the flood of tide, if they were
not on shore before; and having made this ob-
servation, I went abroad about my harvest
work with more composure.
As I expected, so it proved; for, as soon as
the tide made to the westward, I saw them all
take boat and row (or paddle, as we call it)
away. I should have observed, that for an
hour or more before they went off they were
dancing, and I could easily discern their pos-
tures and gestures by my class. I could not
perceive, by my nicest observation, but that
they were stark naked, and had not the least
covering upon them; but whether they were
men or women I could not distinguish.
(Inspecting the other side of the island with-
out delay, Crusoe finds that three canoes have
been there, and the signs of a human feast
remain behind. His thirst for their destruction
is renewed, but for fifteen months he sees noth-
ing more of the savages.)
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 37
It was in the middle of May, on the sixteenth
day, I think, as well as my poor wooden calen-
dar would reckon, for I marked all upon my
post still; I say, it was on the sixteenth of
May, that it blew a very great storm of wind
all day, with a great deal of lightning and
thunder, and a very foul night it was after it.
I knew not what was the particular occasion
of it; but as I was reading in the Bible, and
taken up with very serious thoughts about my
present condition, I was surprised with the
noise of a gun, as I thought, fired at sea. This
was, to be sure, a surprise quite of a different
nature from any I had met with before; for
the notions this put into my thoughts were
quite of another kind. I started up in the
greatest haste imaginable; and, in a trice, I
clapped my ladder to the middle place of the
rock, and pulled it after me; and mounting it
the second time, got to the top of the hill
at the very moment that a flash of fire bade
me listen for a second gun, which, accordingly,
in about half a minute, I heard; and by the
sound, knew that it was from that part of the
sea where I was driven down the current in
my boat. I immediately considered that this
must be some ship in distress, and that they
had some comrade, or some other ship in com-
pany, and fired these signals of distress, and
to obtain help. I had the presence of mind, at
that minute, to think, that though I could not
help them, it might be they might help me; so
I brought together all the dry wood I could get
at hand, and, making a good handsome pile, I
set it on fire upon the hill. The wood was
dry, and blazed freely; and, though the wind
blew very hard, yet it burned fairly out, so
that I was certain, if there was any such thing
as a ship, they must need see it, and no doubt
they did; for as soon as ever my fire blazed
58 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
up, I heard another gun, and. after that several
others, all from the same quarter. I plied my
fire all night long, till daybreak: and when it
was broad day, and the air cleared up, I saw
something at a great distance at sea, full east
of the island, whether a sail or a hull I could
not distinguish—no, not with my glass; the
distance was so great, and the weather still
something hazy also; at least, it was so out
at sea.
(The "something" turns out to be the wreck
of a ship, and no living thing save a dog is
found by Crusoe, much to his sad disappoint-
ment, for he yearns for at least one human
companion. He salvages a little clothing, some
cordials, and ammunition, but most of the
ship's contents are worthless to him. More
determined than ever to escape from his her-
mitage,- impossible as the task appears, Crusoe
begins to devote much time to inventing ways
and means. The savages, who were once his
greatest danger, now seem to be his only hope;
a dream suggests to him that he contrive to
capture one of their victims, when they visit
his island, and make this man his slave. He
can then voyage to the mainland, with this
slave's guidance and assistance, and possibly
make his way safely to the abode of Christian
men. But month after month passes, with no
sign of the savages, and now, instead of his
ardor waning, the delay serves onlv to whet
his desire the keener, until he can scarcely
wait for an opportunity to put his plan to a
test.)
About a year and a half after I entertained
these notions (and by long musing had, as it
were, resolved them all into nothing, for want
of an occasion to put them into execution), I
was surprised one morning by seeing no less
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 35
man rive canoes all on shore together on my
side of the island, and the people who belonged
to them all landed and out of my sight The
number of them broke all my measures; for
seeing so many, and knowing that they al-
ways came four or six, or sometimes more in
a boat, I could not tell what to think of it, or
how to take my measures, to attack twenty or
thirty men single-handed; so lay still in my
castle, perplexed and discomforted. However,
I put myself into the same position for an at-
tack that I had formerly provided, and was
just ready for action, if anything had pre-
sented. Having waited a good while, listen-
ing to hear if they made any noise, at length,
being very impatient, I set my guns at the foot
of my ladder, and clambered up to the top -of
the hill, by two stages, as usual; standing so,
however, that my head did not appear above
the hill, so that they could not perceive me by
any means. Here I observed, by the help of
my perspective-glass, that they were no less
than thirty in number; that they had a fire
kindled, and that they had meat dressed. How
they had cooked it, I knew not, or what it was;
but they were all dancing, in I know not how
many barbarous gestures and figures, their own
way, round the fire.
While I was thus looking on them I per-
ceived, by my perspective, two miserable
wretches dragged from the boats, where, it
seems, they were laid by, and were now
brought out for the slaughter. I perceived one
of them immediately fall; being knocked down,
I suppose, with a club, or wooden sword, for
that was their way; and two or three others
were at work immediately, cutting him open
for their cookery, while the other victim was
left standing by himself, till they should be
ready for him. In that very moment, this poor
40 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
wretch seeing himself a little at liberty, and
unbound, Nature inspired him with hopes of
life, and he started away from them, and ran
with incredible swiftness along the sands, di-
rectly towards me; I mean, towards that part
of the coast where my habitation was. I was
dreadfully frightened, I must acknowledge,
when I perceived him run my way; and espe-
cially when, as I thought, I saw him pursued
by the whole body; and now I expected the
part of my dream was coming to pass, and
that he would certainly take shelter in my
grove: but I could not depend, by any means,
upon my dream, that the other savages would
not pursue him thither, and find him there.
However, I kept my station, and my spirits
began to recover when I found that there was
not above three men that followed him; and
still more was I encouraged, when I found that
he outstripped them exceedingly in running,
and gained ground on them; so that, if he
could but hold out for half an hour, I saw easily
he would fairly get away from them all.
There was between them and my castle, the
creek, which I mentioned often in the first part
of my story, where I landed my cargoes out of
the ship; and this I saw plainly he must neces-
sarily swim over, or the poor wretch would
be taken there; but when the savage escaping
came thither, he made nothing of it, though
the tide was then up; but, plunging in, swam
through in about thirty strokes, or thereabouts,
landed, and ran with exceeding strength and
swiftness. When the three persons came to
the creek, I found that two of them could swim,
but the third could not, and that, standing on
the other side, he looked at the others, but
went no further, and soon after went softly
back again; which, as it happened, was very
well for Mm in the end. I observed that the
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 41
two who swam were yet more than twice as
long swimming over the creek as the fellow
was that fled from them. It came very warmly
upon my thoughts, and indeed irresistibly, that
now was the time to get me a servant, and
perhaps a companion or assistant; and that I
was plainly called by Providence to save this
poor creature's life. I immediately ran down
the ladders with all possible expedition, fetched
my two guns, for they were both at the foot
of the ladders, as I observed before, and get-
ting up again with the same haste to the top
of the hill, I crossed towards the sea; and hav-
ing a very short cut, and all down hill, placed
myself in the way between the pursuers and
the pursued, hallooing aloud to him that fled,
who, looking back, was at first perhaps as much
frightened at me as at them; but I beckoned
with my hand to him to come back; and, in
the meantime, I slowly advanced towards the
two that followed; then rushing at once upon
the foremost, I knocked him down with the
stock of my piece. I was loath to fire, because
I would not have the rest hear; though, at that
distance, it would not have been easily heard,
and being out of sight of the smoke, too, they
would not have known what to make of it.
Having knocked this fellow down, the other
who pursued him stopped, as if he had been
frightened, and I advanced towards him: but
as I came nearer, I perceived presently he had
a bow and arrow, and was fitting it to shoot
at me: so I was then obliged to shoot at him
first, which I did, and killed him at the first
shot. The poor savage who fled, but had
stopped, though he saw both his enemies fallen
and killed, as he thought, yet was so fright-
ened with the fire and noise of my piece, that
he stood stock still, and neither came forward,
nor went backward, though he seemed rather
42 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
inclined still to fly than to come on. I hallooed
again to him, and made signs to come forward,
which he easily understood, and came a little
way; then stopped again, and then a little far-
ther, and stopped again; and I could then per-
ceive that he stood trembling, as if he had
been taken prisoner, and had just been about
to be killed, as his two enemies were. I beck-
oned to him again to come to me, and gave him
all the signs of encouragement that I could
think of; and he came nearer and nearer, kneel-
ing down every ten or twelve steps, in token
of acknowledgment for saving his life. I smiled
at him, and looked pleasantly, and beckoned
to him to come still nearer; at length, he came
close to me; and then he kneeled down again*
kissed the ground, and laid his head upon the
ground, and, taking me by the foot, set my foot
upon his head; this, it seems, was in token of
swearing to be my slave forever. I took him
up and made much of him, and encouraged him
all I could. But there was more work to do
yet; for I perceived the savage whom I had
knocked down was not killed, but stunned with
the blow, and began to come to himself: so I
pointed to him, and showed him the savage,
that he was not dead: upon this he spoke some
words to me, and though I could not under-
stand them, yet I thought they were pleasant
to hear; for they were the first sound of a
man's voice that I had heard, my own excepted,
for above twenty-five years. But there was
no time for such reflections now; the savage
who was knocked down recovered himself so
far as to sit up upon the ground, and I per-
ceived that my savage began to be afraid; but
when I saw that, I presented my other piece
at the man, as if I would shoot him: upon this,
my savage, for so I call him now, made a mo-
tion to me to lend him my sword, which hung
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOH 43
naked in a belt by my side, which I did. He
no sooner had it, but he ran to his enemy, and
at one blow, cut off his head so cleverly, no exe-
cutioner in Germany could have done it sooner
or better; which I thought very strange for one
who, I had reason to believe, never saw a sword
in his life before, except their own wooden
swords: however, it seems, as I learned after-
wards, they make their wooden swords so
sharp, so heavy, and the wood is so hard, that
they will even cut off heads with them, ay,
and arms, and that at one blow too. When
he had done this, he came laughing to me in
sign of triumph, and brought me the sword
again, and with abundance of gestures which
I did not understand, laid it down, with the
head of the savage that he had killed, just be-
fore me. But that which astonished him most,
was to know how I killed the other Indian so
far off; so pointing to him, he made signs to
me to let him go to him; and I bade* him go, as
well as I could. When he came to him, he stood
like one amazed, looking at him, turning him
first on one side, then on the other; looked at
the wound the bullet had made, which it seems
was just in his breast, where it had made a
hole, and no great quantity of blood had fol-
lowed; but he had bled inwardly, for he was
quite dead. He took up his bow and arrows,
and came back; so I turned to go away, and
beckoned him to follow me, making signs to
him that more might come after them. Upon
this he made signs to me that he should "bury
them with sand, that they might not be seen
by the rest, if they followed; and so I made
sjgns to him again to do so. He fell to work;
and in an instant he had scraped a hole in the
sand with his hands, big enough to bury the
first in, and then dragged him into it, and cov-
ered him; and did so by the other also: I be-
44 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
lieve he had buried them both in a quarter of
an hour. Then calling him away, I carried him,
not to my castle, but quite away to my cave,
on the farther part of the island: so I did not
le^xmy dream come to pass in that part, that
he came into my grove for shelter. Here I
gave him bread and a bunch of raisins to eat,
and a draught of water, which I found he was
indeed in great distress for, from his running:
and having refreshed him, I made signs for
him to go and lie down to sleep, showing him
a place where I had laid some rice-straw, and
a blanket upon it, which I used to sleep upon
myself sometimes; so the poor creature lay
down and went to sleep.
He was a comely, handsome fellow, perfectly
well made, with straight strong limbs, not too
large, tall and well shaped; and, as I reckon,
about twenty-six years of age. He had a very
good countenance, not a fierce and surly aspect,
but seemed to have something very manly in
his face: and yet he had all the sweetness and
softness of a European in his countenance too,
especially when he smiled. His hair was long
and black, not curled like wool; his forehead
very high and large; and a great vivacity and
sparkling sharpness in his eyes. The color of
the skin was not quite black, but very tawny;
and yet not an ugly, yellow, nauseous tawnr,
as the Brazilians and Virginians, and other
natives of America are, but of a bright kind of
a dun olive color, that had in it something very
agreeable, though not very easy to describe.
His face was round and plump; his nose small,
not flat like the Negroes; a very good mouth,
thin lips, and his fine teeth well set, and as
white as ivory." •
(The savage sleeps half ah hour, wakes, and
returns to Crusoe, repeating by signs his abso-
lute submission to his new master.)
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 45
I understood him in many things, and let him
know I was very well pleased with him. In a
little time I began to speak to him, and teach
him to speak to me; and, first, I let him know
his name should be FRIDAY, which was the
day I saved his life: I called him so for the
memory of the time. I likewise taught him to
say Master; and then let him know that was
to be my name: I likewise taught him to say
Yes and No, and to know the meaning of them.
(Crusoe teaches Friday to eat of white man's
food, and conveys to him that he abhors the
idea of cannibalism. Together they seek the
scene of the previous day's feast, and Friday is
made to burn the remnants of human flesh the
savages left behind them. Crusoe clothes Fri-
day somewhat like himself, though not quite so
well. Friday is lodged in the vacant space be-
tween Crusoe's two fences or fortifications, and,
to be safe, Crusoe fashions barricades a»d
guards against surprise into his own quarters.)
After I had been two or three days returned
to my castle, I thought that, in order to bring
Friday off from his horrid way of feeding, and
from the relish of a cannibal's stomach, I ought
to let him taste other flesh; so I took him out
with me one morning to the woods. I went, in-
deed, intending to kill a kid out of my own
flock, and bring it home and dress it; but as I
was going, I saw a she-goat lying down in the
shade, and two young kids sitting by her. I
catched hold of Friday. "Hold," said I; "stand
still;" and made signs to him not to stir: im-
mediately, I presented my piece, shot, and
killed one of the kids. The poor creature, who
had, at a distance, indeed, seen me kill the
savage, his enemy, but did not know, nor could
imagine how it was done, was sensibly sur-
prised; trembled, and shook, and looked so
46 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
amazed that I thought he would have sunk
down. He did not see the kid I shot at, or per-
ceive I had killed it, hut ripped up h s waist-
coat, to feel whether he was not wounded; and,.
as I found presently, thought I was resolved to
kill him; for he came and kneeled down to me,
and embracing my knees, said a great many
things I did not understand; but I could easily
see the meaning was, to pray me not to kill
him.
(Crusoe demonstrates his gun further, until
Friday is ready' to worship both master and
weapon. Friday likes goat and fowl for food,
and finally promises never to eat human flesh
again. Crusoe teaches his servant to make
bread, tend his crops and flocks, and so on, and
Frijday learns rapidly and is a good worker.
Gradually, Friday learns to speak and under-
stand English, of a sort.)
Master.—You always fight the better; how
came you to be taken prisoner then, Friday?
Friday.—My nation beat much for all that.
Master.—How beat? If your nation beat them,
how came you to be taken?
Friday.—They more many than my nation, in
the place where me was; they take one, two,
three, and me: my nation over-beat them in
the yonder place, where me no was; there my
nation take one, two, great thousand.
Master.—But why did not your side recover
you from the hands of your enemies then?
Friday.—They run, one, two, three, and me,
and make go in the canoe; my nation have no
canoe at time.
Master.—Well, Friday, and what does your
nation do with the men they take? Do they
carry them away and eat them, as these did?
Friday.—Yes, my nation eat mans too: eat
all up.
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 47
Master.—Where do they carry them?
Friday.—Go to other place, where they think.
Master.—Do they come hither?
Friday.—Yes, yes, they come hither; come
other else place.
Master.—Have you been here with them?
Friday.—Yes, I have been here (points to the
N. W. side of the island, which, it seems, was
their side). ...
I asked him how far it was from^ur island
to the shore, and whether canoes were not often
lost. He told me there was no danger, no canoes
ever lost, but that after a little way out to sea,
there was a current and wind, always one way
in the morning, the other in the afternoon. This
I understood to be no more than the sets of the
tide, as going out or coming in; but I after-
wards understood it was occasioned by the
great draught and reflux of the mighty river
Oroonoko, in the mouth or gulf of which river,
as I found afterwards, our island lay; and that
this land which I perceived to the W. and N. W.
was the great island Trinidad, on the north
point of the mouth of the river. I asked Fri-
day a thousand questions about the country,
the inhabitants, the sea, coast, and what nations
were near: he told me all he knew, with the
greatest openness imaginable. I asked him the
names of the several nations of his sort of peo-
ple, but could get no other name than Caribs:
from whence I easily understood that tliese
were the Caribbees, which our maps place on
the part of America which reaches from the
mouth of the River Oroonoko to Guiana, and
onwards to St. Martha. He told me, that up a
great way beyond the moon, that was, beyond
the setting of the moon, which must be west
from their country, there dwelt white bearded
men, like me, and pointed to my great whiskers,
48 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
which I mentioned before; and that they had
killed much mans—that was his word; by all
which I understood he meant the Spaniards,
whose cruelties in America had been spread
over the whole country, and were remembered
by all the nations from father to son.
(Crusoe turns missionary, to convert Friday
to the Christian faith.)
I asked him one time, who made him. The
poor creature did not understand me at all, but
thought I had asked him whom was his father:
but I took it up by another handle, and asked
him, who made the sea, the ground we walked
on, and the hills and woods. He told me, "It
was one Benamuckee, that lived beyond all;"
he could describe nothing of this great person,
but that he was very old, "much older," he
said, "than the sea or the land, than the moon
or the stars." I asked him then, if this old
person had made all things, why did not all
things worship him? He looked very grave, and
with a perfect look of innocence, said, "All
things say O to him." I asked him, if the peo-
ple who died in his country went away any-
where? He said, "Yes; they all went to Bena-
muckee." Then I asked him whether those they
eat up went thither, too? He said, "Yes."
(Crusoe instructs Friday in the religion of
the true God.)
He told me one day, that if our God could
hear us, up beyond the sun, he must needs be
a greater God than their Benamuckee, who
lived but a little way off, and yet could not
hear till they went up to the great mountains
where he dwelt to speak to him. I asked him
if ever he went thither to speak to him? He
said, "No; they never went that were young
men; none went thither but the old men,"
DEFOE'S BOBINSON CRUSOE 49
whom he called their Oowokakee; that is, ao I
made him explain to me, their religious, or
clergy; and that they went to say O (so he
called saying prayers), and then came back
and told them what Benamuckee said. By this
I observed, that there is priestcraft even among
the most blinded, ignorant pagans in the world;
and the policy of making a secret of religion,
in order to preserve the veneration of the peo-
ple to the clergy, is not only to be found in the
Roman, but, perhaps, among all the religions
in the world, even among the most brutish and
barbarous savages.
I endeavored to clear up this fraud to my
man Friday; and told him that the pretense
of their old men going up the mountains to say
O to their god Benamuckee was a cheat; and
their bringing word from whence what he said
was much more so; that if they met with any
answer, or spake with any one there, it must
be with an evil spirit.
(Crusoe then instructs Friday regarding the
devil, and is at once flabbergasted by Friday's
demand to know why, if God is so powerful,
he does not destroy the devil! Crusoe explains,
not without difficulty, that * God reserves the
wicked for ultimate pardon or punishment.
However, Friday finally becomes a good Chris-
tian; Crusoe tells him his own story, teaches
him how to shoot, and arms him with knife
and hatchet. Telling about the wreck, Crusoe
learns from Friday that a European ship was
once wrecked on his coast, and that his nation
had saved seventeen white men, who live among
his people, and have been there for four years.
For the cannibals, Friday explains, eat only
those they capture in battle. Crusoe now plans
to seek out this nation, in the hope of escape,"
and enlists Friday's aid. Jealousy at Friday's
50 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
evident joy at the prospect of seeing his own
people nearly shatters Crusoe's faith in his
servant; but it becomes evident that Friday
only wants his people to learn what Crusoe has
taught him, and that he will never voluntarily
leave the master he has come to love. So they
set to work to build another great canoe—Cru-
soe's first unhappy venture has rotted and split
in the many years' sun—to which Crusoe fits
a mast and a "shoulder-of-mutton" sail, fash-
ioned from the best of the nearly rotten rem-
nants Crusoe has left. The twenty-seventh an-
niversary of Crusoe's stay on the island ap-
pears, which he celebrates with thanksgiving
as usual; and in November and December fol-
lowing he plans to make his venture to the
mainland. Three savage canoes, with twenty-
one savages and three prisoners, arrive unex-
pectedly, and Crusoe and Friday prepare to de-
fend themselves.)
I entered the wood, and with all possible wari-
ness and silence, Friday following close at my
heels, I marched till I came to the skirt of the
wood on the side which was next to them,
only that one corner of the wood lay between
me and them. Here I called softly to Friday,
and showing him a great tree which was just
at tho corner of the wood, I bade him go to the
tree, and bring me word if he could see there
plainly what they were doing. He did so, and
came immediately back to me, and told me they
might be plainly viewed there,—that they were
all about their fire eating the flesh of one of
their prisoners,, and that another lay bound
upon the sand a little from them, whom he
said they would kill next; and this fired the
very soul within me. He told me it was not
one of tEeir nation, but one of the bearded men
he had told me of, that came to their country
DEFOE'S ROBINSON QRUSOE 51
in the boat. I was filled with horror at the
very naming of the white, bearded man; and
going to the tree, I saw plainly by my glass a
white man, who lay upon the beach of the sea
with his hands and his feet tied with flags, or
things like rushes, and that he was a European,
and had clothes on.
(Crusoe and Friday advance, hidden by
bushes and trees, and fire upon the savages.)
Friday took his aim so much better than I
that on the side that he shot he killed two of
them and wounded three more; and on my side
I killed one, and wounded two. They were, you
may be sure, in a dreadful consternation; and
all of them that were not hurt jumped upoii
their feet, but did not immediately know which
way to run, or which way to look, for they knew
not whence their destruction came.
(Crusoe and Friday fire again, with swan-
shot, wounding several, and advance into the
open. They continue to fire, Crusoe advancing
to the white man and releasing him. He is a
Spaniard, and, taking a sword, does battle with
his would-be murderers.)
The account of the whole is as follows: —
three killed at our first shot from the tree; two
killed at the next shot; two filled by Friday
in t}ie boat; two killed by Friday of those at
firsf wounded; one killed by Friday in the
wood; three killed by the Spaniard; four
killed, being found dropped here and there, of
the wounds, or killed by Friday in his chase
of them; four escaped in the boat, whereof one
was wounded, if not dead—twenty-one in all.
(Friday discovers that the third prisoner, in
one of the canoes, is none other than his own
fatker. Rejoicing, the father is added to Cru-
soe's subjects, and the Spaniard also swears
62 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
eternal allegiance. The four who escaped, it was
learned afterwards, made their way to their
own people, but Crusoe's fears that they would
return with a larger force were ill-founded, for
they reported that the island was enchanted
and that men who landed there were destroyed
by thunder and lightning! Planning escape now
in good earnest, Crusoe enlists the aid and
knowledge of the Spaniard, who promises to se-
cure the allegiance of the sixteen other white
men among Friday's people. They wait six
months, however, for another crop of rice and
barley, to provide ample provision for their
venture, and add to their flocks, and cure a
great many raisins. They prepare, also, several
planks cut from trunks of trees. The Spaniard
and Friday's father are sent away in a canoe
to fetch the other sixteen men.)
It was no less than eight days I had waited
for them, when a strange and unforeseen acci-
dent intervened, of which like has not, perhaps,
been heard of in history. I was fast asleep in
my hutch one morning, when my man Friday
came running in to me, and called aloud, "Mas-
ter, master, they are come, they are come!" I
jumped up, and, regardless of danger, I went
out as soon as I could get my clothes on,
through my little grove, which, by the way, was
by this time grown to be a very thick wood; I
say, regardless of danger, I went out without
my arms, which was not my custom to do: but
I was surprised, when, turning my eyes to the
sea. I presently saw a boat at about a league
and a half distance, standing in for the shore,
with a shoulder-of-mutton sail, as they call it,
and the wind blowing pretty fair to bring them
in: also I observed, presently, that they did
not come from the side which the shore lay
on, but from the southernmost end of the is-
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 53
land. Upon this I called Friday in, and bade
him lie close, for these were not the people we
looked for, and that we might not know yet
whether they were friends or enemies. In the,
next, I went in to fetch my perspective-glass,
to see what I could make of them; and having
taken the ladder out, I climbed to the top of
the hill, as I used to do when I was appre-
hensive of anything, and to take my view the
plainer, without being discovered. I had scarce
set my foot upon the hill, when my eye plainly
discovered a ship lying at anchor, at about two
leagues and a half distance from me S. S. E.,
but not above a league and a half from the
shore. By my observation, it appeared plainly
to be an English ship, and the boat appeared
to be an English long-boat.
(Crusoe is at first overjoyed, but bides his
time. The boat lands, four or five jump ashore
and take out three prisoners, all white men.
The three prisoners are deposited on the sand,
and left, while the others roam about in wild
exploration. Thus they forget their boat, which
is left high and dry by the ebbing tide, and
they are forced to wait until the turn, a stay
of some ten hours at least. Crusoe fortifies him-
self securely, and at night he plans to come
upon them; but about two o'clock, in the heat
of the day, he advances to the three prisoners
and speaks to them. They are the captain,
mate, and a passenger of the ship, against
whom the crew, under the leadership of two
villains, have mutinied. Crusoe befriends and
arms them, and together they kill the leaders
of the mutiny, and regain the allegiance of the
crew. All save those still on board, that is, who
number twenty-six and are likely to continue
the mutiny in sheer desperation, for the penalty
in any English port will hang them all.
54 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
(They stave in the long-boat, to prevent its
being recovered by any of the crew, and await
developments. Unable to recall their boat, those
on board put forth ten men, armed, in another
boat. Of these, through a glass, the captain
recognizes three honest men, the rest, including
the boatswain, being incorrigible villains. Those
on shore, save the three Crusoe saved, though
they swear allegiance, are kept bound to fore-
stall treachery.
(Seven men come ashore, leaving three to
guard the boat. Crusoe evolves a clever strata-
gem: Friday and the ship's mate are sent to
lure these seven with halloos, as though from
their comrades whom they seek, into the is-
land and roundabout. To do this, the seven
have to cross the creek, and thinking them-
selves on the trail of their comrades they call
in their boat to put them across. Tying the
boat to a stump, they leave only two men to
guard, who are easily captured by Crusoe and
his men. The other seven, returning in the
dark, are attacked, and the boatswain and one
other killed, the remainder being taken
prisoners.
(In the morning, by an arrangement which
leads his prisoners to believe him far more
powerful than he really is, Crusoe exacts the
allegiance of five men, holding the balance as
hostages for the fidelity of the others. They
plan now to capture the ship.)
Our strength was now thus ordered for the
expedition: first, the captain, his mate, and
passenger; second, then the two prisoners of
the first gang, to whom, having their character
from the captain, I had given their liberty, and
trusted them with arms; third, the other two
that I had kept till now in my bower pinioned,
but, on the captain's motion, had now released;
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 55"
fourth, these five releas-ed at last; so that they
were twelve in all, besides five we kept prison-
ers in the cave for hostages.
(They capture the ship, killing the false cap-
tain, and the rightful captain re-establishes his
command. Crusoe's deliverance, at last, is now
at hand, for all swear eternal allegiance to him
and pronounce the ship his to do with as he
desires. Five men are left on the island, as
too villainous to be trusted, and of these two
swim to the ship just before she leaves, begging
to be taken aboard, which they are. Crusoe
instructs those left behind in all the manner
of his living there, and promises not to forget
them. He also leaves word for the seventen
Spaniards he expects from the mainland, com-
manding those left on shore to be friends with
them and unite their fortunes until they hear
from Crusoe again.)
When I took leave of this island, I carried
on board, for relics, the great goat-skin cap I
had made, my umbrella, and one of my par-
rots; also I forgot not to take the money I
formerly mentioned, which had lain by me so
long useless that it was grown rusty or tar-
nished, and could hardly pass for silver till
it had been a little rubbed and handled, as also
the money I found in the wreck of the Spanish
ship. And thus I left the island, the 19th of
December, as I found by the ship's account, in
the year 1686, after I had been upon it eight-
and-twenty years, two months, and nineteen
days; being delivered from this second cap-
tivity the same day of the month that I first
made my escape in the long-boat, from, among
the Moors of Sallee. In this vessel, after a
long voyage, I arrived in England the 11th of
June, in the year 1687, having been thirty-five
years absent.
When I came to England, I was as perfect a
56 DEFOE'S ROBINSON C&USOE
stranger to all the world as if I had never been
known there. My benefactor and faithful
steward, whom I had left my money in trust
with, was alive, but had had great misfortunes
in the world; was become a widow the second
time, and was very low in the world. I made
her very easy as to what she owed me, assur-
ing her I would give her no trouble; but, on
the contrary, in gratitude for her former care
and faithfulness to me, I relieved her as my
little stock would afford; which at that time
would, indeed, allow me to do but little for
her: but I assured her I would never forget
her former kindness to me; nor did I forget
her when I had sufficient to help her, as shall
be observed in its proper place. I went down
afterwards into Yorkshire; but my father was
dead, and my mother and all the family extinct,
except that I found two sisters, and two of the
children of one of my brothers; and as I had
been long ago given over for dead, there had
been no provision made for me; so that, in a
word, I found nothing to relieve or assist me;
and that the little money I had would not do
much for me as to settling in the world.
(Crusoe realizes something from the cargo
of the ship he has been so instrumental in
bringing safely home, and this takes him to
Lisbon, there to inquire from his old friend,
the sea captain, after his plantation he left in
the Brazils. He learns that it is still in opera-
tion, and very profitably so, being under the
authority of the government, one-third of the
profits going to the king, two-thirds to a mon-
astery, and the other to the guarantors or
trustees, and that, if he returns to claim it,
there is not likely to be any dispute or trouble
in his establishing his claim and acquiring his
plantation once again. The sea captain, whom
Crusoe had made his heir, was unable to prove
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 57
his claim because proof of Crusoe's death was
lacking; but he had received a settlement for
his claim, which he now seeks to pay to Crusoe,
who, however, takes only a portion of it—one
hundred moidores—remembering his great in-
debtedness to this captain, who had once
picked him up from the sea and saved his life.)
When this was past, the old man asked me
if he should put me into a method to make my
claim to my plantation. I told him I thought to
go over to it myself. He said I might do so if I
pleased; but that, if I did not, there were ways
enough to secure my right, and immediately to
appropriate the profits to my use; and as there
were ships in the river of Lisbon just ready to
go away to Brazil, he made me enter my name
in a public register, with his affidavit, affirm-
ing, upon oath, that I was alive, and that I was
the same person who took up the land for the
planting the said plantation at first. This be-
ing regularly attested by a notary, and a pro-
curation affixed, he directed me to send it, with
a letter of his writing, to a merchant of his
acquaintance at the place; and then proposed
my staying with him till an account came of
the return.
Never was anything more honorable than the
proceedings upon this procuration; for in less
than seven months I received a large packet
from the survivors of my trustees, the mer-
chants, for whose account I went to see, in
which were the following particular letters and
papers enclosed. . . .
I might well say now, indeed, that the latter
end of Job was better than the beginning. It
is impossible to express the flutterings of my
very heart when I found all my wealth about
me; for as the Brazil ships come all in fleets,
the same ships which brought my letters
brought my goods; and the effects were' safe
58 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
in the river before the letters came to my
hand. In a word, I turned pale and grew sick;
and, had not the old man run and fetched me
a cordial, I believe the sudden surprise of joy
had overset nature, and I had died upon the
spot: nay, after that, I continued very ill, and
was so some hours, till a physician being sent
for, and something of the real cause of my ill-
ness being known, he ordered me to be let
blood; after which I had relief, and grew well:
but I verily believe, if I had not been eased by
a vent given in that manner to the spirits, I
should have died.
I was now master, all on a sudden, of above
five thousand pounds sterling in money, and
had an estate, as I might well call it, in the Bra-
zils, of above a thousand pounds a year, as sure
as an estate of lands in England: and, in a
word, I was in a condition which I scarce knew
how to understand, or how to compose myself
for the enjoyment of it.
(Rewarding his old friend handsomely, Crusoe
returns to England, always with his man Fri-
day, who has accompanied him faithfully ever
since he left his island. Crusoe finds the
weight of all his wealth far heavier upon him
than his lonely reign in his island, and is
nearly at a loss for its proper disposal. Send-
ing generous gifts to his English relatives, and
to the widow before mentioned, Crusoe, having
acquired a not altogether strange aversion for
the sea, selects the land journey, as far as pos-
sible, as the manner of his return to England.
Setting out in November, they meet with the
first cold of winter, a hardship to Crusoe, wsho
has been unused to it for so long, and espe-
cially so to Friday, who has never seen snow
in his life before. They secure a guide who
takes them through the mountains into France
by a route that avoids as much of the snow as
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 59
possible, and, indeed, they meet with very lit-
tle, but they have an adventure or two that is
recorded at some length. Their guide1 is at-
tacked by a wolf, which Friday, being quite
fearless of animals, advances close to and
shoots through the head.)
But never was a fight managed so hardly,
and in such a surprising manner, as that which
followed between Friday and the bear, which
gave us all, though at first we were surprised
and afraid of him, the greatest diversion imag-
inable. . . .
My man Friday had delivered our guide, and
when we came up to him, he was helping him
off his horse, for the man was both hurt and
frightened [by the encounter with the wolf],
when on a sudden we espied the bear come out
of the wood, and a monstrous one it was, the
biggest by far that ever I saw. We were all
a little surprised when we saw him; but when
Friday saw him, it was easy to see joy and
courage in the fellow's countenance. "O, O, O!"
says Friday, three times, pointing to him; "O
master! you give, me te leave, me shakee te
hand with him; me makee you good laugh."
I was surprised to see the fellow so well
pleased. "You fool," says I, "he will eat you
up." "Eatee me up! *eatee me up!" says Fri-
day, twice over again; "me eatee him up; me
makee you good laugh; you all stay here, me
show you good laugh." So down he sits, and
gets off his boots in a moment, and puts on a
pair of pumps (as we call the flat shoes they
wear, and which he had in his pocket), gives
my other servant his horse, and with his gun
away he flew, swift like the wind.
• The bear was walking softly on, and offered
to meddle with nobody, till Friday, coming
pretty near, calls to him, as if the bear could
60 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
understand him. "Hark ye, hark ye," says Fri-
day, "me speakee with you." We followed at
a distance, for now being come down on the
Gascony side of the mountains, we were en-
tered a vast forest, where the country was
plain and pretty open, though it had many
trees in it scattered here and there. Friday,
who had, as we say, the heels of the bear, come
up with him quickly, and took up a great stone,
and threw it at him, and hit him just on the
head, but did him no more harm than if he
had thrown it against a wall; but it answered
Friday's end, for the rogue was so void of
fear that he did it purely to make the bear
follow him, and show us some laugh, as he
called it. As soon as the bear felt the blow,
and saw him, he turns about, and comes after
him, taking very long strides, and shuffling on
at a strange rate, so as would have put a horse
to a middling gallop: away runs Friday, and
takes his course as if he ran towards us for
help; so we all resolved to fire at once upon
the Dear, and deliver my man; though I was
angry at him heartily for bringing the bear
back upon us, when he was going about his
own business another way; and especially I
was angry that he had turned the bear upon
us, and then run away; and I called out, "You
dog! is this your making us laugh? Come
away, and take your horse, that we may shoot
the creature." He heard ,me, and cried cut.
"No shoot, no shoot; stand still, and you get
much laugh:" and as the nimble creature ran
two feet for the bear's one, he turned on a
sudden on one side of us, and. seeing a great
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 61
oak tree fit for his purpose, he beckoned to
us to follow; and doubling his pace, he got
nimbly up the tree, and laying his gun down
upon the ground, at about five or six yards
from the bottom of the tree. The bear soon
came to the tree, and we followed at a dis-
tance; the first thing he did, he stopped at the
gun, smelled at it, but let it lie, and up he
scrambles into the tree, climbing it like a cat,
though so monstrous heavy. I was amazed at
the folly, as I thought it, of my man, and could
not for my life see anything to laugh at yet,
till seeing the bear get up the tree, we all
rode near to him.
"When we came to the tree, there was Friday
got out to the small end of a large branch,
and the bear got about half way to him. As
soon as the bear got out to that part where
the limb of the tree was weaker,—"Ha!" says
he to us, "now you see me teachee the bear
dance;" so he bgan jumping and shaking the
bough, at which the bear began to totter, but
stood still, and began to look behind him, to
see how he should get back; then, indeed, we
did laugh heartily. But Friday had not done
with him by a great deal; when seeing him
stand still, he called out to him again, as if
he had supposed the bear, could speak English,
"What, you come no farther? pray you come
farther;" so he left jumping and shaking the
tree; and the bear, just as if he understood
what he said, did come a little farther; then
he began jumping again, and the bear stopped
again. We thought now was a good time to
fenock him in the head, and called to Friday
62 DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE
to stand still, and we would shoot the bear;
but he cried out earnestly, "0 pray! O pray!
no shoot; me shoot by and then:" he would
have said by and by. However, to shorten the
story, Friday danced so much, and the bear
stood so ticklish, that we had laughing enough,
but still could not imagine what the fellow
would do: for first we thought he depended
upon shaking the bear off; and we found the
bear was too cunning for that too; for he
would not go out far enough to be thrown
down, but clung fast with his great broad claws
and feet, so that we could not imagine what
would be the end of it, and what the jest would
be at last. But Friday put us out of our doubt
quickly: for seeing the bear cling fast to the
bough, and that he would not be persuaded
to come any farther, "Well, well," says Friday,
"you no come farther, me go; you no come to
me, me come to you;" and upon this he went
out to the smaller end of the bough, where it
would bend with his weight, and gently let Him-
self down by it, sliding down the bough till he
came near enough to jump down on his feet;
and away he ran to his gun, took it up, and
stood still. "Well," said I to him, "Friday,
what will you do now? Why don't you shoot
him?" "No shoot," says Friday, "no yet; me
shoot now, me no kill; me stay, give you one
more laugh:" and, indeed, so he did; for when
the bear saw his enemy gone, he came back
from the bough where he stood, but did it very
cautiously, looking behind him every step, and
coming backward till* he got into the body of
the tree; then, with the same hinder foremost,
DEFOE'S ROBINSON CRUSOE 63
he came down the tree, grasping it with his
claws, and moving one foot at a time, very
leisurely. At this juncture, and just before he
could set his hind foot on the ground, Friday
stepped up close to him, clapped the muzzle of
his piece into his ear, and shot him dead.
Then the rogue turned about to see if we did
not laugh; and when he saw we were pleased,
by our looks, he began to laugh very loud.
"So wTe kill bear in my country," says Friday.
"So you kill them?" says I; "why, you have
no guns/* "No/' says he, "no gun, but shoot
great much long arrow."
(After a very severe encounter with packs
of wolves, Crusoe's party makes an otherwise
safe way to Dover, arriving there the 14th of
January,)
64 LITTLE BLUE BOOK SERIES
Other Little Blue Books
Biography
5 Life of Samuel Johnson.
Macaulay.
393 Life of Frederick the Great.
Macaulay.
33 Brann: Smasher of Shams.
Gunn.
312 Life and Works of Laurence
Sterne. Gunn.
429 Life and Works of Jonathan
Swift. Gunn.
522 Life of Thomas Paine.
Gunn.
523 Life of Benjamin Franklin.
Gunn.
51 Bruno. His Life and Mar-
tyrdom. Turnbull.
69 Life of Mary, Queen of
Scots. Dumas.
88 Vindication of Paine.
Ingersoll.
123 Life of Madame du Barry.
Tichenor.
183 Life of Jack London.
Tichenor.
323 Life of Joan of Arc.
Tichenor.
343 Life of Columbus.
Tichenor.
128 Julius Caesar: WTho
He
Ac-
142 Bismarck and the German
Empire. Bowicke.
147 Cromwell and His Times.
227 Keats: The Man, His
Works, and His Friends.
236 State and Heart Affairs of
Henry VIII.
269-270-271-272 Contemporary
Portraits. 4 Vols. Harris.
324 Life of Lincoln. Bowers.
433 Life of Marat. Gottschalk.
438-439 Secret Memoirs of
Madame de Pompadour. 2
Vols. Collected and ar-
ranged by Jules Beaujoint.
490 Life of Michelangelo (as
Seen by Georg Brandes).
Moritzen.
506 Life of Voltaire (as Seen
by Georg Brandes).
Morijtzen.
525 Life of Goethe (as Seen by
Georg Brandes). Moritzen.
526 Life of Julius Caesar (as
Seen by Georg Brandes).
Moritzen.
518 The Life and Works of
Charles Dickens. Swasey.
521 Life of John Brown. Gold.
666-667 Sarah Bernhardt As I
Knew Her. 2 Vols. Dorian.
Drama
(See "Literature (Ancient)"
for Greek and Boman Drama.
See "Shakespeare" for Shake-
spearean Plays and Criticism.
See "Oscar Wilde." See
"French Literature" for Mo-
liere, Victor Hugo and Maeter-
linck. See "Ibsen, Henrik.")
90 The Mikado. Gilbert.
226 The Anti-Semites.
Schnitzler.
308 She Stoops to Conquer.
Goldsmith.
335 The Land of Heart's
Was and What He
complished.
139 Life of Dante.
141 Life of Napoleon. Finger.
328 Joseph Addison and His
Time. Finger.
339 Thoreau: The
Escaped From
Finger.
394 Boswell's Life of Johnson.
Finger.
395 Autobiography of Cellini.
Finger.
412 Life of Mahomet. Finger.
537 Life of Barnum: The Man
Who Lured the Herd.
Finger.
565 Magellan and the" Pacific.
Finger.
Man Who
the Herd.
sire. Yeats.
337 Pippa Passes. Browning.
De-
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