A grim smile lighted up such of the features of the man as could be seen through his bushy beard, whiskers, and moustaches. He shook his head. Jerry repeated the question. "No intende," he answered. "Then he can't be Robinson Crusoe if he doesn't understand English," whispered Jerry, with a sigh. The doctor, who had been behind gathering plants, now came up. He laughed heartily when we told him that we had had great hopes that the rough-looking stranger might turn out to be Robinson Crusoe himself, gone back to live on his own island. He exchanged a few words with the stranger. "The man tells me that he is a goat-herd--a convict--unjustly banished here;--that of course. He begs that we will give him a few coppers to buy a glass of rum." Jerry and I eagerly searched in our pockets, when we discovered some Chilian coins, which we bestowed on the poor goat-herd; but even as I dropped them into his hand, I could not help feeling that I was offering an insult to a great man in distress by giving him such a trifle. The provoking part of the affair was, that, as the doctor told us, the man himself had never even heard of Robinson Crusoe in the whole course of his life. We had a delightful ramble through the valley, and over the hills. We found an abundance of the sandalwood-tree growing on the mountains, and myrtles in great quantities, with a variety of other aromatic shrubs. Vegetables of all sorts were growing in profusion, and there were a number of cattle, and horses, and mules. There was also plenty of milk; and from what we saw at the governor's table, there was no lack of provisions of any sort.