off that Robinson could hardly see it, and he was quite exhausted with
the hard struggle to paddle the boat against the current. He was in
despair, and giving up paddling, left the boat to drift where she
would. Just then a faint puff of wind touched his cheek, and Robinson
hurriedly hoisted his sail. Soon a good breeze blew, which carried him
past a dangerous reef of rocks. Here the current seemed to divide, the
part in which he now was began to swing round towards the island, and
he plucked up heart again, and with his paddle did all he could to
help the sail. Robinson felt like a man who is set free after he has
been told that he must die; he could almost have wept for joy. Miles
and miles he sailed, steadily getting nearer to the land, and late in
the evening at last he got ashore, but on the other side of the point
that he had tried to round in the morning. He drew up his boat on the
shore of a little cove that he found, and when he had made her fast,
so that the tide could not carry her away, there among the trees he
lay down, and slept sound, quite worn out.

In the morning he again got on board, and coasted along close inshore,
till he came to a bay with a little river running into it, which made
a very good harbor for the boat. Here he left her, and went on foot.

Soon he found that he was not far from a spot that he had once before
visited, and by afternoon he arrived at the hut which he called his
country-house. Robinson got over the fence by the ladder, as usual,
pulling it up after him, and then he lay down to rest in the shade,
for he was still very weary from the hard work of the day before. Soon
he fell asleep. But what was his surprise in a little time to be
awakened by a voice calling, "Robin! Robin Crusoe! where are you?"

At first he thought he was dreaming. But still the voice went on
calling:

"Where are you, Robin?"

Up he jumped, trembling with fright and wonder, for it was so long
since he had heard any voice but his own that he fancied it must be
something more than human that he now listened to. But no sooner had
he risen than he saw, sitting on the tree near to him, his parrot,
which must have flown all the way from Robinson's other house, where
it had been left. It was talking away at a great rate, very excited at
again seeing its master, and Robinson hardly knew whether to be more
relieved or disappointed that it was only the bird that had called
him.

For about a year after this Rob