The people lived without the use
of rum or beer of any sort. There was not a police officer or a lawyer
among them. The domestic economy of the island was simplicity itself.
The fashions of Paris did not affect the inhabitants; each dressed
according to his own taste. Although there was no doctor, the people
were all healthy, and the children were all beautiful. There were
about forty-five souls on the island all told. The adults were mostly
from the mainland of South America. One lady there, from Chile, who
made a flying-jib for the _Spray_, taking her pay in tallow, would be
called a belle at Newport. Blessed island of Juan Fernandez! Why
Alexander Selkirk ever left you was more than I could make out.
[Illustration: Robinson Crusoe's cave.]
A large ship which had arrived some time before, on fire, had been
stranded at the head of the bay, and as the sea smashed her to pieces
on the rocks, after the fire was drowned, the islanders picked up the
timbers and utilized them in the construction of houses, which
naturally presented a ship-like appearance. The house of the king of
Juan Fernandez, Manuel Carroza by name, besides resembling the ark,
wore a polished brass knocker on its only door, which was painted
green. In front of this gorgeous entrance was a flag-mast all ataunto,
and near it a smart whale-boat painted red and blue, the delight of
the king's old age.
I of course made a pilgrimage to the old lookout place at the top of
the mountain, where Selkirk spent many days peering into the distance
for the ship which came at last.
Pages:
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138