Crusoe's Island: A Ramble in the Footsteps of Alexander Selkirk. J. Ross Browne

would they say on board the ship when I was dead? What would be the distress of my friends and kindred at home when they heard how my mangled body was picked up in the surf, and buried upon this lonely rock-bound island? A thousand thoughts flashed through my brain in succession. Even the happy days of my youth rose up before me now, but the vision was sadly mingled with errors and follies that could never be retrieved. Believing my time had come, I looked upward in my agony, and beheld Abraham, scarcely twenty yards in advance, lying down in the same position, with hands stretched out and dug into the roots of the grass.

      "Abraham," said I, "this is terrible!"

      "Yes," said he, "a foretaste of death, if nothing worse."

      "But how in the world are we to get out of it?"

      "I don't know—there seems to be no hope; we can't go back again, that's an absolute certainty. In my opinion, we'll have to stay here till somebody comes for us, which doesn't seem a likely chance just now."

      A good rest, however, having inspired us with fresh courage, we resolved upon pushing on. There was a narrow ledge about a hundred yards above us; if we could reach that, we would be safe for the present. By great exertion we got a little above the place where we had lain down; and, the sod beginning to give way as before, we threw ourselves on our faces again, and rested a while. In this way, hanging, as it were, between life and death, we at last reached the ledge. Here we flung ourselves on the solid rock, quite exhausted. Abraham was a brave man, but he now lay gasping for breath, as pale as a ghost. I suppose I looked about the same, for, to tell the honest truth, I was well-nigh scared out of my senses. Certainly all the gold of Ophir could not have induced me to go through the same ordeal again.

      There was still above us, about five hundred feet higher, a point or pyramid of volcanic rock, that stood out over the sea in a slanting direction. It was the highest peak in the neighborhood of the coast, and was called the Nipple. We had done nothing yet compared with the ascent of that peak. Both of us looked toward it, and smiled.

      "Shall we try it?" said Abraham.

      "No," said I, "we never could get up there; it would be perfect folly to try."

      "I think not, Luff; it isn't so smooth as the place we have just climbed over. Don't you see there are rocks to hold on to?"

      "Yes, but they look as if they'd give way. However, if you say so, we'll make the attempt."

      With this, we each drew a long breath, and commenced climbing up the rocks. Sometimes we dug our fingers into the crevices and lifted ourselves up, and sometimes we wound around ledges less than a foot wide, overhanging deep chasms, and were forced to cling to the rough points that jutted out in order to keep our balance. Flocks of pigeons flew startled from their nests, and whirled past us, as if affrighted at the intrusion of man. Herds of wild goats dashed by us also, and ran bleating down into the rugged defiles, where they looked like so many insects. The wind whistled mournfully against the sharp crags, and swept against us in such fierce and sudden gusts that we were sometimes obliged to stop and cling to the rocks with all our might to keep from being blown off. At last we reached the base of the Nipple. This was the wildest place of all. Above us stood the dizzy peak, like the turret of a ruined castle, overlooking the surf at a height of nearly two thousand feet. We now lay down again, breathing hard, and a good deal exhausted. When partly recovered, I looked over the edge toward Crusoe's Valley. It was the grandest sight I ever beheld; rugged cliffs and winding ridges hundreds of feet below; a green valley embowered in shrubbery nestling beneath the heights, all calm and smiling in the warm sunshine; slopes of woodland stretching up in the ravines; a line of white spray from the surf all along the shores, and the boundless ocean outspread in one vast sweep beyond.

      "I'll tell you what it is, Luff," said Abraham, "this may be all very fine, but I don't want to try it again."

      "Nor I either, Abraham. Isn't it awful climbing?"

      "Yes, awful enough; but we must get on the top of that old castle there."

      "To be sure," said I, rather doubtfully. "Of course, Abraham; we ought to climb that as a sort of climax. It will make an excellent climax either to ourselves or the adventure."

      Saying this, I walked a few steps from the place where we were lying down, to see if there was any way of scaling the Nipple. It appeared to be a huge pile of loose rocks ready to fall to pieces upon being touched. It was about a hundred feet high, and nearly perpendicular all round. There was no part that seemed to me at all accessible. Even the first part or foundation could not be reached without passing over a sharp ridge, steep at both sides, and entirely destitute of vegetation. I was not quite mad enough to undertake such a thing as this without the least hope of success.

      "No, Abraham," said I, "we can't do it. I see no way of getting up there."

      "Let me take a look," said Abraham, who was always fertile in discoveries. "I think I see a place that we can climb over, so as to get on that horseback sort of a ridge, and the rest of the way may be easier than we suppose."