(Continuing from Part 37)
After returning from the wrecked ship, I could not stop thinking about the unfortunate sailors.
I had found no living man aboard. The only creature I had rescued was a dog, which had been starving and desperately thirsty.
The ship had provided me with useful supplies, but I would gladly have exchanged them all for one human companion.
I often imagined what might have happened if two or three sailors had survived.
Together, we might have built a vessel strong enough to leave the island. We could have divided the work and encouraged one another when difficulties arose.
Instead, I remained alone.
The sight of the wreck awakened my old desire to escape.
For many years, I had learned to accept my life on the island. I had fields, goats, shelter, and almost everything necessary for survival.
But I had never truly stopped wishing to return to human society.
I began thinking again about the mainland.
I knew that land lay some distance beyond the island. I had seen it from the hills on clear days.
Perhaps I could reach it in a canoe.
Yet I remembered the powerful currents that had nearly carried me out to sea.
A journey toward the mainland would be much more dangerous than traveling around my own coast.
I also feared the people who lived there.
The human remains I had discovered on the beach suggested that some groups brought prisoners to my island and killed them.
If I reached the mainland alone, I might fall into their hands.
I considered these dangers repeatedly.
Sometimes I thought that escape was worth almost any risk.
At other times, I reminded myself that I had food and safety where I was.
Why should I abandon a secure life for an uncertain journey?
These thoughts occupied me for a long time.
Eventually, I began imagining another possibility.
If I could obtain a prisoner from one of the groups that visited the island, perhaps I could save his life and gain a companion.
Such a man might know the mainland and its people.
He might understand the coastal waters.
He could help me build a larger canoe or guide me toward a place where European ships sometimes sailed.
But how could I rescue anyone?
I had already decided not to attack the visitors without cause.
I did not wish to kill people merely because I hated their customs.
Still, if I saw a prisoner about to be killed, I believed I might be justified in helping him escape.
The idea remained in my mind.
One night, after thinking about these matters for many hours, I fell asleep and had a remarkable dream.
I dreamed that I was watching the shore from a hidden place among the trees.
Several canoes approached the island.
The men aboard came onto the beach and brought prisoners with them.
They prepared a fire and gathered together, as I had imagined them doing many times before.
Then something unexpected happened.
One of the prisoners escaped.
He broke away from the men guarding him and began running across the sand.
The others shouted and chased him.
The prisoner ran toward the part of the island where I was hiding.
In my dream, I saw that he was frightened and exhausted.
I wanted to help him.
I stepped out from my hiding place and called him toward me.
He seemed surprised to see me, but he continued running.
I led him away from the beach and into the woods.
The men pursuing him searched the area, but they could not find us.
I brought the prisoner to my shelter.
There, I gave him food and water.
He appeared grateful.
I tried to speak to him, although we did not understand each other’s language.
In the dream, he soon became my friend.
He showed me that he was willing to help with my work.
Then he explained, partly through signs, that he knew how to reach the mainland.
He understood the currents and the places where boats could land safely.
I felt certain that with his help I could finally escape.
We began preparing a canoe for the journey.
Everything seemed possible.
Then I woke.
For several moments, I lay still, trying to understand where I was.
The dream had been so clear that I almost expected to see the rescued man standing beside me.
But my shelter was empty.
I heard only the familiar sounds of my animals.
I was alone again.
The disappointment was painful.
During the dream, I had felt the happiness of companionship and the excitement of approaching freedom.
Now those hopes had disappeared.
Yet the dream left an important thought in my mind.
Perhaps it was not impossible to rescue a prisoner.
The visitors sometimes brought captives to the island.
If one escaped, I might be able to help him.
Even if he did not know how to guide me home, he could become a companion.
For the first time in many years, I began to imagine sharing my daily life with another person.
I thought about how much easier my work would become.
One of us could tend the goats while the other worked in the fields.
We could build a stronger boat together.
We could watch for danger and help protect each other.
Most importantly, I would have someone to speak with.
But I knew that the plan was dangerous.
The visitors might arrive in large numbers.
They might be armed.
If I tried to rescue a prisoner, I could be killed.
I would need to act only when there was a real opportunity.
I began watching the coast more carefully.
I searched for signs of canoes whenever I climbed the hills.
I studied places where I might hide without being seen.
I also examined the paths leading inland from the beach.
I did not want to attack anyone unnecessarily.
My purpose was to save a life, not to begin a war.
Days passed, and no visitors appeared.
Then weeks passed.
I continued my ordinary work, but my thoughts often returned to the dream.
Whenever I looked toward the distant shore, I wondered whether a prisoner might someday run toward me, just as I had imagined.
I knew that dreams did not guarantee future events.
Still, this one had given me a plan.
For years, I had waited helplessly for rescue.
Now I began to think that I might have to create my own opportunity.
I did not know whether such a chance would ever come.
But I was determined to remain watchful.