"Yea! long as nature's humblest child
Hath kept her temple undefiled
By sinful sacrifice,
Earth's fairest scenes are all his own,
He is a monarch, and his throne
Is built amid the skies."
Wilson.
Our youthful hermit was quite two months in regaining his strength,
though, by the end of one he was able to look about him, and turn his
hand to many little necessary jobs. The first thing he undertook was to
set up a gate that would keep the animals on the outside of the crater.
The pigs had not only consumed much the largest portion of his garden
truck, but they had taken a fancy to break up the crust of that part of
the crater where the grass was showing itself, and to this inroad upon
his meadows, Mark had no disposition to submit. He had now ascertained
that the surface of the plain, though of a rocky appearance, was so far
shelly and porous that the seeds had taken very generally; and as soon
as their roots worked their way into the minute crevices, he felt
certain they would of themselves convert the whole surface into a soil
sufficiently rich to nourish the plants he wished to produce there.
Under such circumstances he did not desire the assistance of the hogs.
As yet, however, the animals had done good, rather than harm to the
garden, by stirring the soil up, and mixing the sea-weed and decayed
fish with it; but among the grass they threatened to be more
destructive; than useful. In most places the crust of the plain was just
thick enough to bear the weight of a man, and Mark, no geologist, by the
way, came to the conclusion that it existed at all more through the
agency of the salt deposited in ancient floods, than from any other
cause. According to the great general law of the earth, soil should have
been formed from rock, and not rock from soil: though there certainly
are cases in which the earths indurate, as well as become disintegrated.
As we are not professing to give a scientific account of these matters,
we shall simply state the facts, leaving better scholars than ourselves
to account for their existence.
Mark made his gate out of the fife-rail, at the foot of the mainmast,
sawing off the stanchions for that purpose. With a little alteration it
answered perfectly, being made to swing from a post that was wedged into
the arch, by cutting it to the proper length. As this was the first
attack upon the Rancocus that had yet been made, by axe or saw, it made
the young man melancholy; and it was only with great reluctance that he
could prevail on himself to begin what appeared like the commencement of
breaking up the good craft. It was done, however, and the gate was hung,
thereby saving the rest of the crop. It was high time; the hogs and
poultry, to say nothing of Kitty, having already got their full share.
The inroads of the first, however, were of use in more ways than one,
since they taught our young cultivator a process by which he could get
his garden turned up at a cheap rate. They also suggested to him an idea
that he subsequently turned to good account. Having dug his roots so
early, it occurred to Mark that, in so low a climate, and with such a
store of manure, he might raise two crops in a year, those which came in
the cooler months varying a little in their properties from those which
came in the warmer. On this hint he endeavoured to improve, commencing
anew beds that, without it, would probably have lain fallow some months
longer.
In this way did our young man employ-himself until he found his strength
perfectly restored. But the severe illness he had gone through, with the
sad views it had given him of some future day, when he might be
compelled to give up life itself, without a friendly hand to smooth his
pillow, or to close his eyes, led him to think far more seriously than
he had done before, on the subject of the true character of our
probationary condition here on earth, and on the unknown and awful
future to which it leads us. Mark had been carefully educated on the
subject of religion, and was well enough disposed to enter into the
inquiry in a suitable spirit of humility; but, the grave circumstances
in which he was now placed, contributed largely to the clearness of his
views of the necessity of preparing for the final change. Cut off, as he
was, from all communion with his kind; cast on what was, when he first
knew it, literally a barren rock in the midst of the vast Pacific Ocean,
Mark found himself, by a very natural operation of causes, in much
closer communion with his Creator, than he might have been in the haunts
of the world. On the Reef, there was little to divert his thoughts from
their true course; and the very ills that pressed upon him, became so
many guides to his gratitude by showing, through the contrasts, the many
blessings which had been left him by the mercy of the hand that had
struck him. The nights in that climate and season were much the
pleasantest portions of the four-and-twenty hours. There were no
exhalations from decayed vegetable substances or stagnant pools, to
create miasma, but the air was as pure and little to be feared under a
placid moon as under a noon-day sun. The first hours of night,
therefore, were those in which our solitary man chose to take most of
his exercise, previously to his complete restoration to strength; and
then it was that he naturally fell into an obvious and healthful
communion with the stars.
So far as the human mind has as yet been able to penetrate the mysteries
of our condition here on-earth, with the double connection between the
past and the future, all its just inferences tend to the belief in an
existence of a vast and beneficent design. We have somewhere heard, or
read, that the gipsies believe that men are the fallen angels, oiling
their way backward on the fatal path along which hey formerly rushed to
perdition. This may not be, probably is not true in its special detail;
but that men are placed here to prepare themselves for a future and
higher condition of existence, is not only agreeable to our
consciousness, but is in harmony with revelation. Among the many things
that have been revealed to us, where so many are hid, we are told that
our information is to increase, as we draw nearer to the millennium,
until "The whole earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord,
as the waters cover the sea." We may be far from that blessed day;
probably are; but he has lived in vain, who has dwelt his half century
in the midst of the civilization of this our own age, and does not see
around him the thousand proofs of the tendency of things to the
fulfilment of the decrees, announced to us ages ago by the pens of holy
men. Rome, Greece, Egypt, and all that we know of the past, which comes
purely of man and his passions; empires, dynasties, heresies and
novelties, come and go like the changes of the seasons; while the only
thing that can be termed stable, is the slow but sure progress of
prophecy. The agencies that have been employed to bring about the great
ends foretold so many centuries since, are so very natural, that we
often lose sight of the mighty truth in its seeming simplicity. But, the
signs of the times are not to be mistaken. Let any man of fifty, for
instance, turn his eyes toward the East, the land of Judea, and compare
its condition, its promises of to-day, with those that existed in his
own youth, and ask himself how the change has been produced. That which
the Richards and Sts. Louis of the middle ages could not effect with
their armed hosts, is about to happen as a consequence of causes so
obvious and simple that they are actually overlooked by the multitude.
The Ottoman power and Ottoman prejudices are melting away, as it might
be under the heat of divine truth, which is clearing for itself a path
that will lead to the fulfilment of its own predictions.
Among the agents that are to be employed, in impressing the human race
with a sense of the power and benevolence of the Deity, we think the
science of astronomy, with its mechanical auxiliaries, is to act its
full share. The more deeply we penetrate into the arcana of nature, the
stronger becomes the proofs of design; and a deity thus obviously,
tangibly admitted, the more profound will become the reverence for his
character and power. In Mark Woolston's youth, the great progress which
has since been made in astronomy, more especially in the way of its
details through observations, had but just commenced. A vast deal, it is
true, had been accomplished in the way of pure science, though but
little that came home to the understandings and feelings of the mass.
Mark's education had given him an outline of what Herschel and his
contemporaries had been about, however; and when he sat on the Summit,
communing with the stars, and through those distant and still unknown
worlds, with their Divine First Cause, it was with as much familiarity
with the subject as usually belongs to the liberally educated, without
carrying a particular branch of learning into its recesses. He had
increased his school acquisitions a little, by the study and practice of
Navigation, and had several works that he was fond of reading, which may
have made him a somewhat more accurate astronomer than those who get
only leading ideas on the subject. Hours at a time did Mark linger on
the Summit, studying the stars in the clear, transparent atmosphere of
the tropics, his spirit struggling the while to get into closer
communion with that dread Being which had produced all these mighty
results; among which the existence of the earth, its revolutions, its
heats and colds, its misery and happiness, are but specks in the
incidents of a universe. Previously to this period, he had looked into
these things from curiosity and a love of science; now, they impressed
him with the deepest sense of the power and wisdom of the Deity, and
caused him the better to understand his own position in the scale of
created beings.
Not only did our young hermit study the stars with his own eyes, but he
had the aid of instruments. The ship had two very good spy-glasses, and
Mark himself was the owner of a very neat reflecting telescope, which he
had purchased with his wages, and had brought with him as a source of
amusement and instruction. To this telescope there was a brass stand,
and he conveyed it to the tent on the Summit, where it was kept for use.
Aided by this instrument, Mark could see the satellites of Jupiter and
Saturn, the ring of the latter, the belts of the former, and many of
the phenomena of the moon. Of course, the spherical forms of all the
nearer planets, then known to astronomers, were plainly to be seen by
the assistance of this instrument; and there is no one familiar fact
connected with our observations of the heavenly bodies, that strikes the
human mind, through the senses, as forcibly as this. For near a month,
Mark almost passed the nights' gazing at the stars, and reflecting on
their origin and uses. He had no expectations of making discoveries, or
of even adding to his own stores of knowledge: but his thoughts were
brought nearer to his Divine Creator by investigations of this sort; for
where a zealous mathematician might have merely exulted in the
confirmation of some theory by means of a fact, he saw the hand of God
instead of the solution of a problem. Thrice happy would it be for the
man of science, could he ever thus hold his powers in subjection to the
great object for which they were brought into existence; and, instead of
exulting in, and quarrelling about the pride of human reason, be brought
to humble himself and his utmost learning, at the feet of Infinite
Knowledge and power, and wisdom, as they are thus to be traced in the
path of the Ancient of Days!
By the time his strength returned, Mark had given up, altogether, the
hope of ever seeing Betts again. It was just possible that the poor
fellow might fall in with a ship, or find his way to some of the
islands; but, if he did so, it would be the result of chance and not of
calculations. The pinnace was well provisioned, had plenty of water,
and, tempests excepted, was quite equal to navigating the Pacific; and
there was a faint hope that Bob might continue his course to the
eastward, with a certainty of reaching some part of South America in
time. If he should lake this course, and succeed, what would be the
consequence? Who would put sufficient faith in the story of a simple
seaman, like Robert Betts, and send a ship to look for Mark Woolston? In
these later times, the government would doubtless despatch a vessel of
war on such an errand, did no other means of rescuing the man offer;
but, at the close of the last century, government did not exercise that
much of power. It scarcely protected its seamen from the English
press-gang and the Algerine slave-driver; much less did it think of
rescuing a solitary individual from a rock in the midst of the Pacific.
American vessels did then roam over that distant ocean, but it was
comparatively in small numbers, and under circumstances that promised
but little to the hopes of the hermit. It was a subject he did not like
to dwell on, and he kept his thoughts as much diverted from it as it was
in his power so to do.
The season had now advanced into as much of autumn as could be found
within the tropics, and on land so low. Everything in the garden had
ripened, and much had been thrown out to the pigs and poultry, in
anticipation of its decay. Mark saw that it was time to re-commence his
beds, selecting such seed as would best support the winter of that
climate, if winter it could be called. In looking around him, he made a
regular survey of all his possessions, inquiring into the state of each
plant he had put into the ground, as well as into that of the ground
itself. First, then, as respects the plants.
The growth of the oranges, lemons, cocoa-nuts, limes, figs, &c., placed
in rows beneath the cliffs, had been prodigious. The water had run off
the adjacent rocks and kept them well moistened most of the season,
though a want of rain was seldom known on the Reef. Of the two, too
much, rather than too little water fell; a circumstance that was of
great service, however, in preserving the stock, which had used little
beside that it found in the pools, for the last ten months. The shrubs,
or little trees, were quite a foot high, and of an excellent colour.
Mark gave each of them a dressing with the hoe, and manured all with a
sufficient quantity of the guano. About half he transplanted to spots
more favourable, putting the cocoa-nuts, in particular, as near the sea
as he could get them.
With respect to the other plants, it was found that each had flourished
precisely in proportion to its adaptation to the climate. The products
of some were increased in size, while those of others had dwindled. Mark
took note of these facts, determining to cultivate those most which
succeeded best. The melons of both sorts, the tomatoes, the egg-plants,
the peppers, cucumbers, onions, beans, corn, sweet-potatoes, &c. &c.,
had all flourished; while the Irish potato, in particular, had scarce
produced a tuber at all.
As for the soil, on examination Mark found it had beer, greatly
improved by the manure, tillage and water it had received. The hogs were
again let in to turn it over with their snouts, and this they did most
effectually in the course of two or three days. By this time, in
addition to the three grown porkers our young man possessed, there were
no less than nine young ones. This number was getting to be formidable,
and he saw the necessity of killing off, in order to keep them within
reasonable limits. One of the fattest and best he converted into pickled
pork, not from any want of that article, there being still enough left
in the ship to last him several years, but because he preferred it
corned to that which had been in the salt so long a time. He saw the
mistake he had made in allowing the pigs to get to be so large, since
the meat would spoil long before he could consume even the
smallest-sized shoats. For their own good, however, he was compelled to
shoot no less than five, and these he buried entire, in deep places in
his garden, having heard that earth which had imbibed animal substances,
in this way, was converted into excellent manure.
Mark now made a voyage to Loam Island, in quest of a cargo, using the
raft, and towing the dingui. It was on this occasion that our young man
was made to feel how much he had lost, in the way of labour, in being
deprived of the assistance of Bob. He succeeded in loading his raft,
however, and was just about to sail for home again, when it occurred to
him that possibly the seeds and roots of the asparagus he had put into a
corner of the deposit might have come to something. Sure enough, on
going to the spot, Mark found that the seed had taken well, and hundreds
of young plants were growing flourishingly, while plants fit to eat had
pushed their tops through the loam, from the roots. This was an
important discovery, asparagus being a vegetable of which Mark was
exceedingly fond, and one easily cultivated. In that climate, and in a
soil sufficiently rich, it might be made to send up new shoots the
entire year; and there was little fear of scurvy so long as he could
obtain plenty of this plant to eat. The melons and other vegetables,
however, had removed all Mark's dread of that formidable disease; more
especially as he had now eggs, chickens, and fresh fish, the latter in
quantities that were almost oppressive. In a word, the means of
subsistence now gave the young man no concern whatever. When he first
found himself on a barren rock, indeed, the idea had almost struck
terror into his mind; but, now that he had ascertained that his crater
could be cultivated, and promised, like most other extinct volcanoes,
unbounded fertility, he could no longer apprehend a disease which is
commonly owing to salted provisions.
When Mark found his health completely re-established, he sat down and
drew up a regular plan of dividing his time between work, contemplation,
and amusement. Fortunately, perhaps, for one who lived in a climate
where vegetation was so luxuriant when it could be produced at all, work
was pressed into his service as an amusement. Of the last, there was
certainly very little, in the common acceptation of the word; but our
hermit was not without it altogether. He studied the habits of the
sea-birds that congregated in thousands around so many of the rocks of
the Reef, though so few scarce ever ventured on the crater island. He
made voyages to and fro, usually connecting business with pleasure.
Taking favourable times for such purposes, he floated several cargoes of
loam to the Reef, as well as two enormous rafts of sea-weed. Mark was
quite a month in getting these materials into his compost heap, which he
intended should lie in a pile during the winter, in order that it might
be ready for spading in the spring. We use these terms by way of
distinguishing the seasons, though of winter, strictly speaking, there
was none. Of the two, the grass grew better at mid-winter than at
mid-summer, the absence of the burning heat of the last being favourable
to its growth. As the season advanced, Mark saw his grass very sensibly
increase, not only in surface, but in thickness. There were now spots of
some size, where a turf was forming, nature performing all her tasks in
that genial climate, in about a fourth of the time it would take to
effect the same object in the temperate zone. On examining these places,
Mark came to the conclusion that the roots of his grasses acted as
cultivators, by working their way into the almost insensible crevices of
the crust, letting in air and water to places whence they had hitherto
been excluded. This seemed, in particular, to be the case with the grass
that grew within the crater, which had increased so much in the course
of what may be termed the winter, that it was really fast converting a
plain of a light drab colour, that was often painful to the eyes, into a
plot of as lovely verdure as ever adorned the meadows of a Swiss
cottage. It became desirable to keep this grass down, and Kitty being
unable to crop a meadow of so many acres, Mark was compelled to admit
his pigs and poultry again. This he did at stated times only, however;
or when he was at work himself in the garden, and could prevent their
depredations on his beds. The rooting gave him the most trouble; but
this he contrived in a great measure to prevent, by admitting his hogs
only when they were eager for grass, and turning them out as soon as
they began to generalize, like an epicure picking his nuts after dinner.
It was somewhere near mid-winter, by Mark's calculations, when the young
man commenced a new task that was of great importance to his comfort,
and which _might_ affect his future life. He had long determined to lay
down a boat, one of sufficient size to explore the whole reef in, if not
large enough to carry him out to sea. The dingui was altogether too
small for labour; though exceedingly useful in its way, and capable of
being managed even in pretty rough water by a skilful hand, it wanted
both weight and room. It was difficult to float in, even a raft of
sea-weed, with so light a boat; and as for towing the raft, it was next
to impossible. But the raft was unwieldy, and when loaded down, besides
carrying very little for its great weight, it was very much at the mercy
of the currents and waves. Then the construction of a boat was having an
important purpose in view, and, in that sense, was a desirable
undertaking.
Mark had learned so much in putting the pinnace together, that he
believed himself equal to this new undertaking. Materials enough
remained in the ship to make half-a-dozen boats, and in tumbling over
the lumber he had found a quantity of stuff that had evidently been
taken in with a view to repair boats, if not absolutely to construct
them. A ship's hold is such an omnium gatherum, stowage being
necessarily so close, that it usually requires time for who does not
know where to put his hand on everything, to ascertain how much or how
little is to be found in it. Such was the fact with Mark, whose
courtship and marriage had made a considerable inroad on his duties as a
mate. As he overhauled the hold, he daily found fresh reasons for
believing that Friend Abraham White had made provisions, of one sort and
another, of which he was profoundly ignorant, but which, as the voyage
had terminated, proved to be of the greatest utility. Thus it was, that
just as he was about to commence getting out these great requisites from
new planks, he came across a stem, stern-frame, and keel of a boat, that
was intended to be eighteen feet long. Of course our young man profited
by this discovery, getting the materials of all sorts, including these,
round to the ship-yard by means of the raft.
For the next two months, or until he had reason to believe spring had
fairly set in, Mark toiled faithfully at his boat. Portions of his work
gave him a great deal of trouble; some of it on account of ignorance of
the craft, and some on account of his being alone. Getting the awning up
anew cost poor Mark the toil of several days, and this because his
single strength was not sufficient to hoist the corners of that heavy
course, even when aided by watch-tackles. He was compelled to rig a
crab, with which he effected his purpose, reserving the machine to aid
him on other occasions. Then the model of the boat cost him a great deal
of time and labour. Mark knew a good bottom when he saw it, but that was
a very different thing from knowing how to make one. Of the rules of
draughting he was altogether ignorant, and his eye was his only guide.
He adopted a plan that was sufficiently ingenious, though it would never
do to build a navy on the same principle.
Having a great plenty of deal, Mark got out in the rough about twice as
many timbers for one side of his boat as would be required, in this thin
stuff, when he set them up in their places. Aided by this beginning, the
young man began to dub and cut away, until he got each piece into
something very near the shape his eye told him it ought to be. Even
after he had got as far as this, our boat-builder passed a week in
shaving, and planing, and squinting, and in otherwise reducing his lines
to fair proportions. Satisfied, at length, with the bottom he had thus
fashioned, Mark took out just one half of his pieces, leaving the other
half standing. After these moulds did he saw and cut his boat's timbers,
making, in each instance, duplicates. When the ribs and floors of his
craft were ready, he set them up in the vacancies, and secured them,
after making an accurate fit with the pieces left standing. On knocking
away the deal portions of his work, Mark had the frame of his boat
complete. This was much the most troublesome part of the whole job; nor
was it finished, when the young man was obliged, by the progress of the
seasons, to quit the ship-yard for the garden.
Mark had adopted a system of diet and a care of his person, that kept
him in perfect health, illness being the evil that he most dreaded. His
food was more than half vegetable, several plants having come forward
even in the winter; and the asparagus, in particular, yielding at a rate
that would have made the fortune of a London gardener. The size of the
plants he cut was really astounding, a dozen stems actually making a
meal. The hens laid all winter, and eggs were never wanting. The corned
pork gave substance, as well as a relish, to all the dishes the young
man cooked; and the tea, sugar and coffee, promising to hold out years
longer, the table still gave him little concern. Once in a month, or so,
he treated himself to a bean-soup, or a pea-soup, using the stores of
the Rancocus for that purpose, foreseeing that the salted meats would
spoil after a time, and the dried vegetables get to be worthless, by
means of insects and worms. By this time, however, there were fresh
crops of both those vegetables, which grew better in the winter than
they could in the summer, in that hot climate. Fish, too, were used as a
change, whenever the young man had an inclination for that sort of food,
which was as often as three or four times a week; the little pan-fish
already mentioned, being of a sort of which one would scarcely ever
tire.
It being a matter of some moment to save unnecessary labour, Mark seldom
cooked more than once in twenty-four hours, and then barely enough to
last for that day. In consequence of this rule, he soon learned how
little was really necessary for the wants of one person, it being his
opinion that a quarter of an acre of such soil as that which now
composed his garden, would more than furnish all the vegetables he could
consume. The soil, it is true, was of a very superior quality. Although
it had lain so long unproductive and seemingly barren, now that it had
been stirred, and air and water were admitted, and guano, and sea-weed,
and loam, and dead fish had been applied, and all in quantities that
would have been deemed very ample in the best wrought gardens of
christendom, the acre he had under tillage might be said to have been
brought to the highest stage of fertility. It wanted a little in
consistency, perhaps; but the compost heap was very large, containing
enough of all the materials just mentioned to give the garden another
good dressing. As for the grass, Mark was convinced the guano was
all-sufficient for that, and this he took care to apply as often as once
in two or three months.
Our young man was never tired, indeed, with feasting his eyes with the
manner in which the grass had spread over the mount. It is true, that he
had scattered seed, at odd and favourable moments, over most of it, by
this time; but he was persuaded the roots of those first sown would have
extended themselves, in the course of a year or two, over the whole
Summit. Nor were these grasses thin and sickly, threatening as early an
extinction as they had been quick in coming to maturity. On the
contrary, after breaking what might be called the crust of the rock with
their vigorous though nearly invisible roots, they made a bed for
themselves, on which they promised to repose for ages. The great
frequency of the rains favoured their growth, and Mark was of opinion
after the experience of one summer, that his little mountain might be
green the year round.
We have called the mount of the crater little, but the term ought not to
be used in reference to such a hill, when the extent of the island
itself was considered. By actual measurement, Mark had ascertained that
there was one knoll on the Summit which was just seventy-two feet above
the level of the rock. The average height, however, might be given as
somewhat less than fifty. Of surface, the rocky barrier of the crater
had almost as much as the plain within it, though it was so broken and
uneven as not to appear near as large. Kitty had long since determined
that the hill was more than large enough for all her wants; and glad
enough did she seem when Mark succeeded, after a great deal of
difficulty, in driving the hogs up a flight of steps he had made within
the crater, to help her crop the herbage. As for the rooting of the
last, so long as they were on the Summit, it was so much the better;
since, in that climate, it was next to impossible to kill grass that was
once fairly in growth, and the more the crust of the ashes was broken,
the more rapid and abundant would be the vegetation.
Mark had, of course, abandoned the idea of continuing to cultivate his
melons, or any other vegetables, on the Summit, or he never would have
driven his hogs there. He was unwilling, notwithstanding, to lose the
benefit of the deposits of soil and manure which he and Bob had made
there with so much labour to themselves. After reflecting what he could
do with them, he came to the conclusion that he would make small
enclosures around some fifteen or twenty of the places, and transplant
some of the fig-trees, orange-trees, limes, lemons, &c., which still
stood rather too thick within the crater to ripen their fruits to
advantage. In order to make these little enclosures, Mark merely drove
into the earth short posts, passing around them old rope, of which there
was a superabundance on board the ship. This arrangement suggested the
idea of fencing in the garden, by the same means, in order to admit the
pigs to eat the grass, when he was not watching them. By the time these
dispositions were made, it was necessary to begin again to put in the
seeds.
On this occasion Mark determined to have a succession of crops, and not
to bring on everything at once, as he had done the first year of his
tillage. Accordingly, he would manure and break up a bed, and plant or
sow it, waiting a few days before he began another. Experience had told
him that there was never an end to vegetation in that climate, and he
saw no use in pushing his labours faster than he might require their
fruits. It was true, certain plants did better if permitted to come to
maturity in particular periods, but the season was so long as very well
to allow of the arrangement just mentioned. As this distribution of his
time gave the young man a good deal of leisure, he employed it in the
ship-yard. Thus the boat and the garden were made to advance together,
and when the last was sown and planted, the first was planked. When the
last bed was got in, moreover, those first set in order were already
giving forth their increase. Mark had abundance of delicious salad,
young onions, radishes that seemed to grow like mushrooms, young peas,
beans, &c., in quantities that enabled him to turn the hogs out on the
Reef, and keep them well on the refuse of his garden, assisted a little
by what was always to be picked up on the rocks.
By this time Mark had settled on a system which he thought to pursue.
There was no use in his raising more pigs than he could use. Taking care
to preserve the breed, therefore, he killed off the pigs, of which he
had fresh litters, from time to time; and when he found the old hogs
getting to be troublesome, as swine will become with years, he just shot
them, and buried their bodies in his compost heap, or in his garden,
where one common-sized hog would render highly fertile several yards
square of earth, or ashes. This practice he continued ever after,
extending it to his fowls and ducks, the latter of which produced a
great many eggs. By rigidly observing this rule, Mark avoided an evil
which is very common even in inhabited countries, that of keeping more
stock than is good for their owner. Six or eight hens laid more eggs
than he could consume, and there was always a sufficient supply of
chickens for his wants. In short, our hermit had everything he actually
required, and most things that could contribute to his living in great
abundance. The necessity of cooking for himself, and the want of pure,
cold spring water, were the two greatest physical hardships he endured.
There were moments, indeed, when Mark would have gladly yielded one-half
of the advantages he actually possessed, to have a good spring of living
water. Then he quelled the repinings of his spirit at this privation, by
endeavouring to recall how many blessings were left at his command,
compared to the wants and sufferings of many another shipwrecked
mariner of whom he had read or heard.
The spring passed as pleasantly as thoughts of home and Bridget would
allow, and his beds and plantations flourished to a degree that
surprised him. As for the grass, as soon as it once got root, it became
a most beneficial assistant to his plans of husbandry. Nor was it grass
alone that rewarded Mark's labours and forethought in his meadows and
pastures. Various flowers appeared in the herbage; and he was delighted
at finding a little patch of the common wild strawberry, the seed of
which had doubtless got mixed with those of the grasses. Instead of
indulging his palate with a taste of this delicious and most salubrious
fruit, Mark carefully collected it all, made a bed in his garden, and
included the cultivation of this among his other plants. He would not
disturb a single root of the twenty or thirty different shoots that he
found, all being together, and coming from the same cast of his hand
while sowing, lest it might die; but, with the seed of the fruit, he was
less chary. One thing struck Mark as singular. Thus far his garden was
absolutely free from weeds of every sort. The seed that he put into the
ground came up, and nothing else. This greatly simplified his toil,
though he had no doubt that, in the course of time, he should meet with
intruders in his beds. He could only account for this circumstance by
the facts, that the ashes of the volcano contained of themselves no
combination of the elements necessary to produce plants, and that the
manures he used, in their nature, were free from weeds.