win and Cuffy | Page 6

his dog were in a state of quiescent felicity, and would
probably have remained so for some hours to come, had not the setting
sun shone forth at that moment with a farewell gleam so intense, that it
appeared to set the world of clouds overhead on fire, converting them
into hills and dales, and towering domes and walls and battlements of
molten glass and gold. Even to the wearied seaman's sleepy vision the
splendour of the scene became so fascinating, that he shook off his
lethargy, and raised himself on one elbow.
"Why, Cuffy!" he exclaimed, to the yawning dog, "seems to me that the
heavens is a-fire! Hope it won't come on dirty weather before you an' I
get up somethin' in the shape o' a hut. That minds me, doggie," he
added, glancing slowly round him, "that we must look after prokoorin'
of our supper. I do believe we've bin an' slep away a whole day! Well,
well, it don't much matter, seein' that we hain't got no dooty for to
do--no trick at the wheel, no greasin' the masts--wust of all, no splicin'
the main brace, and no grub."
This latter remark appeared to reach the understanding of the dog, for it
uttered a melancholy howl as it gazed into its master's eyes.
"Ah, Cuffy!" continued the sailor with a sigh, "you've good reason to
yowl, for the half of a rotten fish ain't enough for a dog o' your appetite.
Come, let's see if we can't find somethin' more to our tastes."
Saying this the man rose, stretched himself, yawned, looked helplessly
round for a few seconds, and then, with a cheery "Hallo! Cuff, come
along, my hearty," went down to the beach in quest of food.
In this search he was not unsuccessful, for the beach abounded with
shell-fish of various kinds; but Jarwin ate sparingly of these, having
been impressed, in former years, by some stories which he had heard of
shipwrecked sailors having been poisoned by shell-fish. For the same
reason he administered a moderate supply to Cuffy, telling him that "it
warn't safe wittles, an' that if they was to be pisoned, it was as well to
be pisoned in moderation." The dog, however, did not appear to agree

with its master on this point, for it went picking up little tit-bits here
and there, and selfishly ignoring the "share-and-share-alike" compact,
until it became stuffed alarmingly, and could scarcely follow its master
back to the fountain.
Arrived there, the two slaked their thirst together, and then Jarwin sat
down to enjoy a pipe, and Cuffy lay down to suffer the well-merited
reward of gluttony.
We have said that Jarwin sat down to enjoy a pipe, but he did not enjoy
it that night, for he discovered that the much-loved little implement,
which he had cherished tenderly while on the raft, was broken to atoms
in his coat-pocket! In his eagerness to drink on first landing, he had
thrown himself down on it, and now smoking was an impossibility, at
least for that night. He reflected, however, that it would not be difficult
to make a wooden pipe, and that cigarettes might perhaps be made by
means of leaves, or bark, while his tobacco lasted; so he consoled
himself in the meantime with hopeful anticipations, and a quid. Being
still weak and weary, he lay down again beside the fountain, and almost
immediately fell into a sleep, which was not at all disturbed by the
starts and groans and frequent yelps of Cuffy, whose sufferings could
scarcely have been more severe if he had supped on turtle-soup and
venison, washed down with port and claret.
Thus did those castaways spend the first night on their island.
It must not be supposed, however, that we are going to trace thus
minutely every step and sensation in the career of our unfortunate
friends. We have too much to tell that is important to devote our
"valuable space" to everyday incidents. Nevertheless, as it is important
that our readers should understand our hero thoroughly, and the
circumstances in which we find him, it is necessary that we should
draw attention to some incidents--trifling in themselves, but important
in their effects--which occurred to John Jarwin soon after his landing
on the island.
The first of these incidents was, that John one day slipped his foot on a
tangle-covered rock, and fell into the sea. A small matter this, you will

say, to a man who could swim, and in a climate so warm that a dip,
with or without clothes, was a positive luxury. Most true; and had the
wetting been all, Jarwin would have had nothing to annoy him; for at
the time the accident occurred he had been a week on the island, had
managed to