By the loss of his hatchets, his ladder, his other instruments of
labor, condemned to inaction, to powerlessness, he had nothing to
occupy himself with but to provide sustenance. But the sea had taken
his snares along with the rest. He at first subsisted on herbs, fruits
and roots; afterwards his stomach rejected these crudities, as it had
repulsed the fish. Armed with a stick, he had chased the agoutis; for
want of agoutis, he had eaten rats.
By night, he silently climbed the trees to surprise the female of the
toucan or blackbird, which he pitilessly stifled over their young
brood. Meanwhile, at the noise he made among the branches, this winged
prey almost always escaped him.
He tried to construct a ladder; by the aid of his knife alone, he
attempted to cut down two tall trees. During this operation his knife
broke--only a fragment remained. This was for him a great trial.
He thought of making, with reeds and the fibres of the aloe, a net to
catch birds; but all patient occupation, all continuous labor, had
become insupportable to him.
That he might escape the gloomy ideas which assailed him more and
more, it became necessary to avoid repose, to court bodily fatigue.
By continual exercise, his powers of locomotion had developed in
incredible proportions.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149