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 used to hard work. The sweat ran down
his face and he had often to stop and rest in the shade. The sun burned
so hot and the rock so reflected the heat that he was all but overcome.
But he worked on. When evening came, he would sleep in the tree and next
morning he would go at it again. On the third day the roots were all
laid bare.
But the roots were fast in the clefts of the rock and he could not
loosen it, try ever so hard. What would he not have given for an axe, or
at least a knife. And yet he had never thought of their value when at
home. He attempted to cut one root through with his clam-shell, but the
shell crumbled and would not cut the hard wood.
He stood for a long time thinking, not knowing what next to do. He made
up his mind that he must have something harder than the shell to cut
with. Then he tried a stone with a sharp edge, but soon found he needed
another one, however. He found one. Then he set the sharp one on the
wood and struck it with the heavy one. In this way he slowly cut the
roots in two.
On the fifth day there was yet left one big root, bigger than any of the
others. Robinson got up early in the morning. He worked the whole day.
Finally it gave a crack and it, too, was broken.
Robinson had only now to remove the loose earth inside the cleft. He
found the opening could be made large and roomy. It was choked up with
dirt. He dug out enough to allow him room enough to make a place to lie
down. "In the future," he thought, "I will take out all the dirt and
then I shall be comfortable."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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