Chapter XIV. The Islet

by Robert Louis Stevenson

　　With my stepping ashore I began the most unhappy part of myadventures. It was half-past twelve in the morning, and thoughthe wind was broken by the land, it was a cold night. I darednot sit down (for I thought I should have frozen), but took offmy shoes and walked to and fro upon the sand, bare-foot, andbeating my breast with infinite weariness. There was no sound ofman or cattle; not a cock crew, though it was about the hour oftheir first waking; only the surf broke outside in the distance,which put me in mind of my perils and those of my friend. Towalk by the sea at that hour of the morning, and in a place sodesert-like and lonesome, struck me with a kind of fear.As soon as the day began to break I put on my shoes and climbed ahill -- the ruggedest scramble I ever undertook-- falling, thewhole way, between big blocks of granite, or leaping from one toanother. When I got to the top the dawn was come. There was nosign of the brig, which must have lifted from the reef and sunk.The boat, too, was nowhere to be seen. There was never a sailupon the ocean; and in what I could see of the land was neitherhouse nor man.I was afraid to think what had befallen my shipmates, and afraidto look longer at so empty a scene. What with my wet clothes andweariness, and my belly that now began to ache with hunger, I hadenough to trouble me without that. So I set off eastward alongthe south coast, hoping to find a house where I might warmmyself, and perhaps get news of those I had lost. And at theworst, I considered the sun would soon rise and dry my clothes.After a little, my way was stopped by a creek or inlet of thesea, which seemed to run pretty deep into the land; and as I hadno means to get across, I must needs change my direction to goabout the end of it. It was still the roughest kind of walking;indeed the whole, not only of Earraid, but of the neighbouringpart of Mull (which they call the Ross) is nothing but a jumbleof granite rocks with heather in among. At first the creek keptnarrowing as I had looked to see; but presently to my surprise itbegan to widen out again. At this I scratched my head, but hadstill no notion of the truth: until at last I came to a risingground, and it burst upon me all in a moment that I was cast upona little barren isle, and cut off on every side by the salt seas.Instead of the sun rising to dry me, it came on to rain, with athick mist; so that my case was lamentable.I stood in the rain, and shivered, and wondered what to do, tillit occurred to me that perhaps the creek was fordable. Back Iwent to the narrowest point and waded in. But not three yardsfrom shore, I plumped in head over ears; and if ever I was heardof more, it was rather by God's grace than my own prudence. Iwas no wetter (for that could hardly be), but I was all thecolder for this mishap; and having lost another hope was the moreunhappy.And now, all at once, the yard came in my head. What had carriedme through the roost would surely serve me to cross this littlequiet creek in safety. With that I set off, undaunted, acrossthe top of the isle, to fetch and carry it back. It was a wearytramp in all ways, and if hope had not buoyed me up, I must havecast myself down and given up. Whether with the sea salt, orbecause I was growing fevered, I was distressed with thirst, andhad to stop, as I went, and drink the peaty water out of thehags.I came to the bay at last, more dead than alive; and at the firstglance, I thought the yard was something farther out than when Ileft it. In I went, for the third time, into the sea. The sandwas smooth and firm, and shelved gradually down, so that I couldwade out till the water was almost to my neck and the littlewaves splashed into my face. But at that depth my feet began toleave me, and I durst venture in no farther. As for the yard, Isaw it bobbing very quietly some twenty feet beyond.I had borne up well until this last disappointment; but at that Icame ashore, and flung myself down upon the sands and wept.The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible a thoughtto me, that I must pass it lightly over. In all the books I haveread of people cast away, they had either their pockets full oftools, or a chest of things would be thrown upon the beach alongwith them, as if on purpose. My case was very different. I hadnothing in my pockets but money and Alan's silver button; andbeing inland bred, I was as much short of knowledge as of means.I knew indeed that shell-fish were counted good to eat; and amongthe rocks of the isle I found a great plenty of limpets, which atfirst I could scarcely strike from their places, not knowingquickness to be needful. There were, besides, some of the littleshells that we call buckies; I think periwinkle is the Englishname. Of these two I made my whole diet, devouring them cold andraw as I found them; and so hungry was I, that at first theyseemed to me delicious.Perhaps they were out of season, or perhaps there was somethingwrong in the sea about my island. But at least I had no soonereaten my first meal than I was seized with giddiness andretching, and lay for a long time no better than dead. A secondtrial of the same food (indeed I had no other) did better withme, and revived my strength. But as long as I was on the island,I never knew what to expect when I had eaten; sometimes all waswell, and sometimes I was thrown into a miserable sickness; norcould I ever distinguish what particular fish it was that hurtme.All day it streamed rain; the island ran like a sop, there was nodry spot to be found; and when I lay down that night, between twoboulders that made a kind of roof, my feet were in a bog.The second day I crossed the island to all sides. There was noone part of it better than another; it was all desolate androcky; nothing living on it but game birds which I lacked themeans to kill, and the gulls which haunted the outlying rocks ina prodigious number. But the creek, or strait, that cut off theisle from the main-land of the Ross, opened out on the north intoa bay, and the bay again opened into the Sound of Iona; and itwas the neighbourhood of this place that I chose to be my home;though if I had thought upon the very name of home in such aspot, I must have burst out weeping.I had good reasons for my choice. There was in this part of theisle a little hut of a house like a pig's hut, where fishers usedto sleep when they came there upon their business; but the turfroof of it had fallen entirely in; so that the hut was of no useto me, and gave me less shelter than my rocks. What was moreimportant, the shell-fish on which I lived grew there in greatplenty; when the tide was out I could gather a peck at a time:and this was doubtless a convenience. But the other reason wentdeeper. I had become in no way used to the horrid solitude ofthe isle, but still looked round me on all sides (like a man thatwas hunted), between fear and hope that I might see some humancreature coming. Now, from a little up the hillside over thebay, I could catch a sight of the great, ancient church and theroofs of the people's houses in Iona. And on the other hand,over the low country of the Ross, I saw smoke go up, morning andevening, as if from a homestead in a hollow of the land.I used to watch this smoke, when I was wet and cold, and had myhead half turned with loneliness; and think of the fireside andthe company, till my heart burned. It was the same with theroofs of Iona. Altogether, this sight I had of men's homes andcomfortable lives, although it put a point on my own sufferings,yet it kept hope alive, and helped me to eat my raw shell-fish(which had soon grown to be a disgust), and saved me from thesense of horror I had whenever I was quite alone with dead rocks,and fowls, and the rain, and the cold sea.I say it kept hope alive; and indeed it seemed impossible that Ishould be left to die on the shores of my own country, and withinview of a church-tower and the smoke of men's houses. But thesecond day passed; and though as long as the light lasted I kepta bright look-out for boats on the Sound or men passing on theRoss, no help came near me. It still rained, and I turned in tosleep, as wet as ever, and with a cruel sore throat, but a littlecomforted, perhaps, by having said good-night to my nextneighbours, the people of Iona.Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more daysin the year in the climate of England than in any other. Thiswas very like a king, with a palace at his back and changes ofdry clothes. But he must have had better luck on his flight fromWorcester than I had on that miserable isle. It was the heightof the summer; yet it rained for more than twenty-four hours, anddid not clear until the afternoon of the third day.This was the day of incidents. In the morning I saw a red deer,a buck with a fine spread of antlers, standing in the rain on thetop of the island; but he had scarce seen me rise from under myrock, before he trotted off upon the other side. I supposed hemust have swum the strait; though what should bring any creatureto Earraid, was more than I could fancy.A little after, as I was jumping about after my limpets, I wasstartled by a guinea-piece, which fell upon a rock in front of meand glanced off into the sea. When the sailors gave me my moneyagain, they kept back not only about a third of the whole sum,but my father's leather purse; so that from that day out, Icarried my gold loose in a pocket with a button. I now saw theremust be a hole, and clapped my hand to the place in a greathurry. But this was to lock the stable door after the steed wasstolen. I had left the shore at Queensferry with near on fiftypounds; now I found no more than two guinea-pieces and a silvershilling.It is true I picked up a third guinea a little after, where itlay shining on a piece of turf. That made a fortune of threepounds and four shillings, English money, for a lad, the rightfulheir of an estate, and now starving on an isle at the extreme endof the wild Highlands.This state of my affairs dashed me still further; and, indeed myplight on that third morning was truly pitiful. My clothes werebeginning to rot; my stockings in particular were quite wornthrough, so that my shanks went naked; my hands had grown quitesoft with the continual soaking; my throat was very sore, mystrength had much abated, and my heart so turned against thehorrid stuff I was condemned to eat, that the very sight of itcame near to sicken me.And yet the worst was not yet come.There is a pretty high rock on the northwest of Earraid, which(because it had a flat top and overlooked the Sound) I was muchin the habit of frequenting; not that ever I stayed in one place,save when asleep, my misery giving me no rest. Indeed, I woremyself down with continual and aimless goings and comings in therain.As soon, however, as the sun came out, I lay down on the top ofthat rock to dry myself. The comfort of the sunshine is a thingI cannot tell. It set me thinking hopefully of my deliverance,of which I had begun to despair; and I scanned the sea and theRoss with a fresh interest. On the south of my rock, a part ofthe island jutted out and hid the open ocean, so that a boatcould thus come quite near me upon that side, and I be none thewiser.Well, all of a sudden, a coble with a brown sail and a pair offishers aboard of it, came flying round that corner of the isle,bound for Iona. I shouted out, and then fell on my knees on therock and reached up my hands and prayed to them. They were nearenough to hear -- I could even see the colour of their hair; andthere was no doubt but they observed me, for they cried out inthe Gaelic tongue, and laughed. But the boat never turned aside,and flew on, right before my eyes, for Iona.I could not believe such wickedness, and ran along the shore fromrock to rock, crying on them piteously. even after they were outof reach of my voice, I still cried and waved to them; and whenthey were quite gone, I thought my heart would have burst. Allthe time of my troubles I wept only twice. Once, when I couldnot reach the yard, and now, the second time, when these fishersturned a deaf ear to my cries. But this time I wept and roaredlike a wicked child, tearing up the turf with my nails, andgrinding my face in the earth. If a wish would kill men, thosetwo fishers would never have seen morning, and I should likelyhave died upon my island.When I was a little over my anger, I must eat again, but withsuch loathing of the mess as I could now scarce control. Sureenough, I should have done as well to fast, for my fishespoisoned me again. I had all my first pains; my throat was sosore I could scarce swallow; I had a fit of strong shuddering,which clucked my teeth together; and there came on me thatdreadful sense of illness, which we have no name for either inScotch or English. I thought I should have died, and made mypeace with God, forgiving all men, even my uncle and the fishers;and as soon as I had thus made up my mind to the worst, clearnesscame upon me; I observed the night was falling dry; my clotheswere dried a good deal; truly, I was in a better case than everbefore, since I had landed on the isle; and so I got to sleep atlast, with a thought of gratitude.The next day (which was the fourth of this horrible life of mine)I found my bodily strength run very low. But the sun shone, theair was sweet, and what I managed to eat of the shell-fish agreedwell with me and revived my courage.I was scarce back on my rock (where I went always the first thingafter I had eaten) before I observed a boat coming down theSound, and with her head, as I thought, in my direction.I began at once to hope and fear exceedingly; for I thought thesemen might have thought better of their cruelty and be coming backto my assistance. But another disappointment, such asyesterday's, was more than I could bear. I turned my back,accordingly, upon the sea, and did not look again till I hadcounted many hundreds. The boat was still heading for theisland. The next time I counted the full thousand, as slowly asI could, my heart beating so as to hurt me. And then it was outof all question. She was coming straight to Earraid!I could no longer hold myself back, but ran to the seaside andout, from one rock to another, as far as I could go. It is amarvel I was not drowned; for when I was brought to a stand atlast, my legs shook under me, and my mouth was so dry, I must wetit with the sea-water before I was able to shout.All this time the boat was coming on; and now I was able toperceive it was the same boat and the same two men as yesterday.This I knew by their hair, which the one had of a bright yellowand the other black. But now there was a third man along withthem, who looked to be of a better class.As soon as they were come within easy speech, they let down theirsail and lay quiet. In spite of my supplications, they drew nonearer in, and what frightened me most of all, the new mantee-hee'd with laughter as he talked and looked at me.Then he stood up in the boat and addressed me a long while,speaking fast and with many wavings of his hand. I told him I hadno Gaelic; and at this he became very angry, and I began tosuspect he thought he was talking English. Listening very close,I caught the word "whateffer" several times; but all the rest wasGaelic and might have been Greek and Hebrew for me."Whatever," said I, to show him I had caught a word."Yes, yes -- yes, yes," says he, and then he looked at the othermen, as much as to say, "I told you I spoke English," and beganagain as hard as ever in the Gaelic.This time I picked out another word, "tide." Then I had a flashof hope. I remembered he was always waving his hand towards themainland of the Ross."Do you mean when the tide is out --?" I cried, and could notfinish."Yes, yes," said he. "Tide."At that I turned tail upon their boat (where my adviser had oncemore begun to tee-hee with laughter), leaped back the way I hadcome, from one stone to another, and set off running across theisle as I had never run before. In about half an hour I came outupon the shores of the creek; and, sure enough, it was shrunkinto a little trickle of water, through which I dashed, not abovemy knees, and landed with a shout on the main island.A sea-bred boy would not have stayed a day on Earraid; which isonly what they call a tidal islet, and except in the bottom ofthe neaps, can be entered and left twice in every twenty-fourhours, either dry-shod, or at the most by wading. Even I, whohad the tide going out and in before me in the bay, and evenwatched for the ebbs, the better to get my shellfish -- even I (Isay) if I had sat down to think, instead of raging at my fate,must have soon guessed the secret, and got free. It was nowonder the fishers had not understood me. The wonder was ratherthat they had ever guessed my pitiful illusion, and taken thetrouble to come back. I had starved with cold and hunger on thatisland for close upon one hundred hours. But for the fishers, Imight have left my bones there, in pure folly. And even as itwas, I had paid for it pretty dear, not only in past sufferings,but in my present case; being clothed like a beggar-man, scarceable to walk, and in great pain of my sore throat.I have seen wicked men and fools, a great many of both; and Ibelieve they both get paid in the end; but the fools first.