age in French from a castaway, _had_ been found many
years previously by an old boatman on the beach near the mouth of the
Swan River. But it was not mine.

So appalling was the monotony, and so limited my resources, that I
welcomed with childish glee any trifling little incident that happened.
For example, one lovely night in June I was amazed to hear a tremendous
commotion outside, and on getting up to see what was the matter, I beheld
dimly countless thousands of birds--Java sparrows I believe them to be. I
went back to bed again, and in the morning was a little dismayed to find
that my pretty visitors had eaten up nearly all my green corn. And the
birds were still there when I went forth in the morning. They made the
air ring with their lively chatter, but the uproar they made was as music
to me. The majority of them had greyish-yellow bodies, with yellow beaks
and pink ruffs, and they were not at all afraid of me. I moved about
freely among them, and did not attempt to drive them out of my corn
patch, being only too grateful to see so much life about me. They rose,
however, in great clouds the next day, much to my regret, and as they
soared heavenwards I could not help envying them their blessed freedom.

I kept count of the long days by means of pearl shells, for I had not
used up the whole cargo in the walls of my hut. I put shells side by
side in a row, one for each day, until the number reached seven, and then
I transferred one shell to another place, representing the weeks. Another
pile of shells represented the months; and as for the years, I kept count
of those by making notches on my bow. My peculiar calendar was always
checked by the moon.

Now, I am not a superstitious man, so I relate the following
extraordinary occurrence merely as it happened, and without advancing any
theory of my own to account for it. I had been many, many months--perhaps
more than a year--on that terrible little sand-spit, and on the night I
am describing I went to bed as usual, feeling very despondent. As I lay
asleep in my hammock, I dreamed a beautiful dream. Some spiritual being
seemed to come and bend over me, smiling pityingly. So extraordinarily
vivid was the apparition, that I suddenly woke, tumbled out of my
hammock, and went outside on a vague search. In a few minutes, however,
I laughed at my own folly and turned in again.

I lay there for some little time longer, thinking about the past--for I
dared no