(Continuing from Part 33)
After discovering the terrible remains on the shore, I could not easily return to my former peace of mind.
I had believed for many years that I was alone on the island. Now I knew that people sometimes came from the mainland.
The ashes, skulls, and bones I had found suggested that they brought prisoners to the beach and killed them there.
I was filled with horror whenever I remembered the sight.
At first, I thought only of punishing the visitors.
I imagined waiting for their canoes to arrive and attacking them before they could begin another dreadful feast.
I had several guns, and I knew how to use them.
If I surprised the men while they were gathered together, I might be able to defeat them.
For a time, this idea occupied nearly all my thoughts.
I began examining the country around the place where I had found the remains.
I looked for a position among the trees where I could hide and watch the shore.
I considered how many guns I could carry and how quickly I could reload them.
But the more carefully I studied the plan, the more dangerous it appeared.
I did not know how many visitors might arrive.
There might be twenty or thirty men, or even more.
If I attacked them, some might escape into the woods.
They could discover my tracks, find my home, and return with others.
I might destroy my own safety by beginning a fight.
Yet the danger was not the only reason I hesitated.
I began asking myself whether I had the right to kill these people.
Their actions seemed cruel and terrible to me.
But they had not attacked me.
They did not even know that I lived on the island.
I had no authority over them.
I remembered that different nations followed different customs.
People sometimes believed that their own ways were right, even when strangers considered those ways wicked.
I could not understand or accept the killing of prisoners, but I began to question whether I should appoint myself their judge.
I also thought about wars in Europe.
Christian nations had killed thousands of people in battles, often while claiming that their causes were just.
This did not excuse what I had seen on the beach.
But it reminded me that violence was not limited to distant peoples.
I considered another important question.
What if I killed several men who had done me no personal harm?
Could I be certain that I was acting rightly?
I began to fear that my anger might lead me into a terrible mistake.
After much reflection, I decided that I would not attack the visitors simply because I hated their customs.
If they threatened my life, I would defend myself.
If I saw an innocent prisoner whom I could safely rescue, I might have reason to act.
But I would not begin a battle without necessity.
This decision brought some relief.
I had spent many days imagining violence.
Now I could return my attention to the work of surviving.
Nevertheless, I remained extremely cautious.
I avoided the coast where the visitors had gathered.
I made no unnecessary journeys into open country.
I also became more careful about smoke from my cooking fires.
A column of smoke rising above the trees might be seen from a canoe.
I wanted no stranger to discover my home.
I continued improving the walls around my main shelter.
The trees I had planted outside the fence had grown thick and tall.
From a distance, the place looked like a small wood rather than a house.
I was pleased with this natural covering.
But I wanted another hiding place.
If visitors ever discovered my main home, I needed somewhere else to retreat.
One day, while working near a rocky part of the island, I noticed a dark opening partly hidden by bushes.
At first, I thought it was only a small space between the stones.
I moved some branches aside and looked more closely.
There was a narrow entrance leading into the rock.
I wondered whether it might be a cave.
I had long wanted a secure place where I could hide some of my supplies.
A cave might be useful because it would be difficult for strangers to discover.
I approached cautiously.
The opening was low, and I had to bend down to enter.
Inside, the air was cool and still.
At first, I could see very little.
I returned outside, gathered materials for a light, and prepared to examine the place more carefully.
When I entered again, I discovered that the passage led into a larger space.
The walls were made of stone, and the ground was dry.
I was delighted.
This might become a secret storehouse.
I could keep some of my gunpowder, weapons, and other valuable possessions there.
If my main shelter were attacked, I might escape to the cave.
But as I moved farther inside, something suddenly frightened me.
In the darkness, I saw two bright points shining ahead.
They looked like eyes.
I stopped immediately.
For a moment, I imagined that a dangerous animal was waiting inside.
I could not see its body.
I heard a low sound coming from the darkness.
My courage failed me.
I turned around and hurried toward the entrance.
Outside, I stood in the sunlight and tried to calm myself.
Perhaps the creature was only a wild goat.
Perhaps it was something more dangerous.
I did not know.
But I wanted to discover the truth.
I prepared another light and took a burning piece of wood with me.
Then I returned to the entrance.
This time, I moved more slowly.
The strange eyes were still visible.
I held the light higher.
As the darkness retreated, I began to understand what I was seeing.
An old goat was lying on the ground.
The animal was weak and seemed close to death.
It had probably entered the cave to rest and had become too feeble to leave.
I felt relieved.
The frightening creature was nothing more than a dying goat.
I approached carefully and examined it.
The animal made a weak movement but did not attempt to escape.
I left it undisturbed and continued looking around the cave.
The discovery had frightened me, but it had also shown me something important.
The cave was hidden, dry, and difficult to enter.
It might be exactly the refuge I needed.
I decided to return with better lighting and examine every part of it.
Perhaps this secret place would become one of the most valuable possessions on my island.