We had lost so much time that it was impossible to get back to our companions that night; so we set to work to prepare a hut and bed for ourselves before we were overtaken by the darkness, which comes on so rapidly in those latitudes. We were not long in constructing a bower and in raising a platform, under and on which we might sleep secure from the attacks of the snakes and other crawling things which abounded; but night came down on us before our work was quite completed. However, free from all fear of savages or wild beasts, we lay down, and were soon asleep. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. OUR RESIDENCE ON THE ISLAND. Our journey back appeared very long, for I was weak and tired, and from the exertion I had undergone, every muscle in my body ached. We met Cousin Silas coming to look for us; for he had become anxious at not seeing Jerry return at all events, and feared something might have happened to us. Ben Yool had set off in the other direction to search for me. Therefore, instead of gaining a great deal of credit, as we expected, by the feat we had accomplished, we found that we had caused our friends no little trouble and anxiety. It was a lesson to me ever afterwards not to attempt to perform any useless undertaking simply because it might be difficult or dangerous. Many people have lost their lives by such folly. Silva had by this time completely recovered his health, but his spirits were very uncertain. Sometimes he would sit for hours brooding over his past life, and the treatment he had received from his companions; then he would start up and walk about the beach, waving his arms, and calling down imprecations on their heads. At other times he was very quiet and sociable, and would talk rationally on any subject under discussion. The lagoon swarmed with fish; but though very beautiful in appearance, our difficulty was to catch them. We could manage to make some coarse lines out of some rope-yarns which had been thrown into the boat with the canvas; we could cut rods from the younger trees which grew around; and there were plenty of projecting masses of rock on which we might sit and angle; but a very important portion of our gear was wanting--we had no fishing-hooks. "Has any one a file?" asked Silva. We all examined our knives. I had one in my knife-handle, but it was broken, and I had neglected to get the blacksmith to put a new one in its place. We hunted eagerly in our box of tools. Nothing like a file could we discover. "What is this?" exclaimed Jerry, pulling out a bag of nails from the bottom of a cask. "Here is something larger than a nail inside." It proved to be part of a file.