Page 21 - An American Robinson Crusoe

"Perhaps," thought he, "if I can sleep a little I will get better." But he could not sleep. He was burning with
fever and then shaking with cold by turns. He felt a strong thirst, but he was so weak that he could scarcely get
the goat's milk. He had no sooner drunk the milk than his tongue was as dry as before. He felt better after a
night of sleep, but the next day his fever and chills were worse than before. Then he bethought him of his
parents. How kindly his mother had taken care of him! Now no one was near that could assist him.

"Ah," he sighed, "must I die here? Who would bury me? There is no one to miss me." At this the tears came to
his eyes.

His sickness increased with each day. Occasionally the fever would go down sufficiently to allow him to get
something to eat. Then it would be worse than before. In his dire need he wanted to pray, but he was so weak
that he could only stammer, "Dear God, help me, or I shall die!"

One night he had a strange dream. He thought he saw his good old father standing before him calling to him.
He spread out his arms and cried aloud, "Here I am, here I am!" He tried to get up, but he was so weak that he
fell back fainting.

He lay there a long time, but finally came to. He felt a burning thirst, but no one reached him a drop of water.
He prepared to die. He folded his hands and prayed to God that he would be merciful to him. He prayed
forgiveness from his parents. Once more he raised his head and gazed wildly around, then he sank back and
knew no more.

When he again awoke he felt better. His hot fever had gone. He attempted to walk. He had just enough
strength to crawl to the table and fetch a shell of water. When he tried to walk he had to sit down at every two
or three steps.

From this he recovered gradually, growing better and better, and he thanked God inwardly for his recovery.
His sickness had continued from June 18 to July 3.

X X IV

ROBINSON'S BOWER

Robinson's sickness set him thinking about his home. He had been so afraid of animals when he came to the
island that he thought of nothing but protection from them. He had been now a year on the island and had seen
nothing more dangerous than a goat. The fear of animals had practically faded away. In thinking over his
sickness he made up his mind that it was caused by sleeping in his cave where the sun never shone. The
ventilation seemed good, but the walls were damp, especially in the rainy season. Then the water would
trickle down through the cleft in spite of all he could do.

He resolved to build, if possible, a little cottage, or, as he called it, a bower, in the yard in front of his shelter.
The hedge of thistles was growing and formed a fence that an animal could not get through. His screen of
willows on the outside of this would soon hide him from view from the sea. He had the wall of rock and the
hill behind him.

He planned out his way of building it very carefully. "It must be done," he said (Robinson formed the habit of
talking to himself, so that he would not forget how to talk), "without hammer, nails, or saw."

He first sought out four posts, as large as he could well handle. There were always broken trees and branches
in the forest. If he searched long enough he could find posts just suited to his need. He wanted four of the
same thickness and height and with a fork at the end. After long searching he found what he wanted. He was
careful to get those that he could drag to his shelter.