oth, and a great part of the isle was laid waste with the storm. I
thought that the world had come to an end. In three hours' time all was
calm; but rain fell all that night, and a great part of the next day.
Now, though quite worn out, I had to move my goods which were in the
cave, to some safe place.

I knew that tools would be my first want, and that I should have to
grind mine on the stone, as they were blunt and worn with use. But as it
took both hands to hold the tool, I could not turn the stone; so I made
a wheel by which I could move it with my foot. This was no small task,
but I took great pains with it, and at length it was done.

The rain fell for some days and a cold chill came on me; in short I was
ill. I had pains in my head, and could get no sleep at night, and my
thoughts were wild and strange. At one time I shook with cold, and then
a hot fit came on, with faint sweats, which would last six hours at a
time. Ill as I was, I had to go out with my gun to get food. I shot a
goat, but it was a great toil to bring it home, and still more to cook
it.

I spent the next day in bed, and felt half dead from thirst, yet too
weak to stand up to get some drink. I lay and wept like a child. "Lord
look on me! Lord look on me!" would I cry for hours.

At last the fit left me, and I slept, and did not wake till dawn. I
dreamt that I lay on the ground, and saw a man come down from a great
black cloud in a flame of light. When he stood on the earth, it shook as
it had done a few days since; and all the world to me was full of fire.
He came up and said "As I see that all these things have not brought
thee to pray, now thou shalt die." Then I woke, and found it was a
dream. Weak and faint, I was in dread all day lest my fit should come
on.

Too ill to get out with my gun, I sat on the shore to think, and thus
ran my thoughts: "What is this sea which is all round me? and whence is
it? There can be no doubt that the hand that made it, made the air, the
earth, the sky. And who is that? It is God who hath made all things.
Well then, if God hath made all things, it must be He who guides them;
and if so, no one thing in the whole range of His works can take place,
and He not know it. Then God must know how sick and sad I am, and He
wills me to be here. O, why hath God done this to me!"

Then some voice would seem to say, "Dost thou ask why God hath done this
to thee? Ask why thou wert not shot by the Moors, who came on board