"How foolish I am!" said Robinson to himself; "the pots have to be fired
before they can be used." He set about this at once. He found two stones
of equal size, placed them near each other and laid a third across
these. He then placed three large pots upon them and made a hot fire
under them. No sooner had the flame shot up than one of the pots cracked
in two. "I probably made the fire too hot at first," thought Robinson.
He drew out some of the coals and wood, but afterwards gradually
increased the fire again. He could not, however, get the pots hot enough
to turn red. He brought the dryest and hardest wood, but could not
succeed in getting them hot enough to turn red. At length he was tired
out and was compelled to give it up. When the pots were cool he tried to
boil water in one. It was no better than the sun dried one.
He saw that he must provide some way to get the pots much hotter than he
could in the open air. He resolved to make an oven of stones large
enough to take in the wood as well as the pots. It must be above ground
so that there might be plenty of draught for the fire. With great labor,
he pried up and carried together flat stones enough to make an oven
about four feet high with a chimney at one side. He had put in the
center a stone table on which he could place three quite large pots. He
left an opening in one side that could be partially closed by a large,
flat stone.
He worked eagerly and at the end of the second day he was ready to fire
his oven. He first carried together a good quantity of dry wood, then he
put in his pots and laid the wood around them. In a short time he had a
very hot fire. He kept this up all day and until late at night.
[Illustration: SOME OF ROBINSON'S DISHES]
The next morning he went to his oven and found his pots were a beautiful
red. He drew out the fire and allowed them to cool slowly. Then he
filled one with water and set it over the fire to heat it. Before many
minutes the water was boiling and Robinson had another reason to be
thankful. He wept for joy. His patient labors had brought their rewards.
No prince could feel as happy as Robinson now. He had overcome all
difficulties. Starting with nothing but his hands, he was now able to
supply all his wants. "If I only had a companion now," he thought, "I
would have nothing further to wish as long as I stay on the island."
XXXI
ROBINSON AS BAKER
Now that Robinson had fire, he determined to try to make bread. He had
seen the servants at home make bread many times, but he had not observed
closely and knew next to nothing about the way bread is made. He knew he
must in some way grind the corn into flour, but how could he do this? He
had no mill nor any tools with which to crush the corn.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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