After his hunger and thirst were satisfied, Robinson thought he would
try to find another dwelling place. "My legs are stiff and sore from
sitting so uncomfortably last night, and there is so much danger of
falling," he said. "I will climb yonder hill and look around and see on
which side the houses are. I will find me a stick to help me on my way."

He broke a stick from a dry bush and climbed up the steep sides of the
hill. After a half hour's climb he was on top. What a sight met his
eyes! There were no houses, no huts to be seen, no smoke arose from the
forest, no field could be seen. Nothing but trees and bush, sand and
rock.

"I am then upon an island alone, without food, without shelter, without
weapons! What will become of me?" he cried. "I am a prisoner. The island
is my prison, the waves are the guards which will not allow me to get
away. Will no ship ever come to set me free?"

He stretched his gaze out to the sea till his eyes ached, but he saw no
ship.

Robinson came down and seated himself on a stone and considered what he
should do. It was not yet noon, yet he feared greatly the next night. "I
must find me a better bed," was his first clear thought.

[Illustration]

IX

ROBINSON'S SHELTER

Robinson saw at a little distance what seemed to be a cleft or an
opening in a huge rock. "If I could only get inside and find room to
stay over night. The rock would protect me from rain, from the wind and
wild animals better than a tree."

He long sought in vain for a place wide enough to allow him to get into
the opening in the rock. He was about to give up, when he seized hold of
a branch of a thorn tree growing on the side of the rock. He looked
closer and saw that it grew out of the cleft in the rock. He saw, too,
that at this point the opening was wider and that he had only to remove
the tree in order to get in. "The hole shall be my dwelling," he said.
"I must get the thorn tree out so that I can have room."

That was easily said. He had neither axe nor saw, nor knife nor spade.
How could he do it? He had nothing but his hands. He tried to pull it
out by the roots, but in vain. He wasn't strong enough.

"I must dig it out," said Robinson.

He scratched with his nails, but the earth was too hard. What should he
do? He sought a stick with a fork in it and dug in the earth, but it was
slow work. Then he found a clam-shell. He did better with it, but it was
hard work, and Robinson was not