But my situation was not one to suffer me to stand long idly
wondering and staring. The moment I brought my eyes away from
the ship to the mighty desolation of the blue and gleaming ocean,
a horror broke upon me, my heart turned into lead, and in the
anguish of my spirits I involuntarily lifted my clinched hands to
God. What was to become of me? I had no boat, no means of making
anything to bear me, nothing but the life-buoy, that was no better
than a trap for sharks to tear me to pieces in. I was thirsty, but
there was no fresh water on this steaming speck of rock, and I tell
you, the knowing that there was none, and that unless rain fell
I must die of thirst, had like to have driven me mad. Where the
ship was, and beyond it, the island rose somewhat in the form of
a gentle undulation. I walked that way, and there obtained a view
of the whole island, which was very nearly circular, like the head
of a hill, somewhat after the shape of a saucepan lid. It resembled
a great mass of sponge to the sight, and there was no break upon its
surface save the incrusted ship, which did, indeed, form a very
conspicuous object. Happening to look downward, I spied a large
dead fish, of the size of a cod of sixteen or eighteen pounds,
lying a-dry in a hole. I put my arm down and dragged it out, and,
hoping by appeasing my hunger to help my thirst somewhat, I opened
my knife and cut a little raw steak, and ate it. The moisture in the
flesh refreshed me, and, that the sun might not spoil the carcass,
I carried it to the shadow made by the ship, and put it under one
of the waterfalls that the play might keep it sweet. There was
plenty more dead fish in the numerous holes, and I picked out two
and put them in the shade; but I knew that the great heat must
soon taint them and rot the rest, whence would come a stench that
might make the island poisonous to me.