(Continuing from Part 11)
After choosing a place beside the steep hillside, I began preparing to build my new home.
The location seemed suitable for several reasons. The ground was dry and level, the hill would protect me from behind, and I could see the sea from nearby.
I still hoped that a ship might appear one day and rescue me.
But I could not depend on that hope alone.
I needed a safe place to live.
First, I carried my supplies from the shore to the hillside.
This was difficult work.
I had no horse, cart, or other person to help me. Everything had to be carried on my back or dragged across the ground.
Some boxes were so heavy that I could move them only a short distance before resting.
Nevertheless, I continued.
I knew that leaving my possessions scattered near the beach would expose them to rain, animals, and possible thieves.
When I had gathered most of my supplies, I began planning the shelter itself.
I decided to make a strong fence in front of the hillside.
The fence would form a half-circle, with both ends reaching the steep rock behind it.
In this way, the hillside would protect the back of my home, while the fence would protect the front.
I measured the ground carefully.
The half-circle was about twenty yards across, and the fence would stand several yards away from the rock.
I wanted enough space inside for a tent, my supplies, and a small working area.
Then I began cutting wooden posts.
I used an axe from the ship to cut strong pieces of timber.
Each post needed to be thick enough to resist being pushed over.
I sharpened one end so that I could drive it into the ground.
The work was slow.
Cutting even one large post required considerable effort.
After cutting the posts, I carried them to the building site.
Then I dug holes and placed them upright, close together.
I drove them firmly into the earth.
Gradually, a strong wooden wall began to appear.
I made the fence higher than my own head so that nobody could easily look over it.
I also strengthened it with ropes and smaller pieces of wood.
There was one unusual feature in my design.
I decided not to build an ordinary door.
Instead, I planned to enter my home using a ladder.
I would climb over the fence and then pull the ladder inside.
If dangerous animals or hostile visitors approached, they would find no easy entrance.
This idea gave me some comfort.
After many days of work, the fence was nearly complete.
Inside it, I built a large tent using sails and canvas rescued from the ship.
I arranged strong poles to support the fabric and secured everything with ropes.
I made a second covering above the first to provide extra protection from rain.
Then I carried my most important possessions inside.
I placed the food in dry boxes and arranged the tools where I could reach them.
I also brought my guns and ammunition into the shelter.
Gunpowder was especially important.
Without it, my firearms would eventually become useless.
But storing all my powder together was dangerous.
A single spark or accident could destroy everything.
I therefore divided it into many small packages.
I wrapped each portion carefully and placed the packages in separate dry locations, including spaces among the rocks.
In this way, if one package was damaged, I would not lose my entire supply.
I felt much safer after making these arrangements.
However, I soon discovered another problem.
The space inside my fence was limited.
My tent contained many boxes, barrels, tools, and other objects.
It was difficult to move around.
I needed more storage space.
Then I looked at the steep hillside behind my tent.
The rock appeared firm, and I wondered whether I could dig a small room into it.
Such a room might serve as a cellar or storage area.
I began working with a pickaxe and shovel.
At first, I thought the task would be simple.
But the ground was hard, and digging required great patience.
Every day, I loosened the earth and carried it away.
Sometimes I worked for hours and made only a little progress.
I used the removed soil to strengthen the ground around my fence.
Gradually, a hollow space began to form behind the tent.
I enlarged it until there was enough room to store some of my possessions.
The new space was cool and protected from the weather.
I was pleased with the result.
I began thinking of my shelter as a little castle.
It had a high wall, a hidden entrance, a tent, and a storage room inside the hill.
Of course, it was not a real castle.
It was only a rough home built by one lonely man.
But to me, it represented safety.
While working, I continued exploring the nearby land.
I discovered that there were goats on the island.
Sometimes I saw them moving among the hills.
They were wild and ran away whenever they noticed me.
I understood that they might provide meat if I could hunt them.
I also saw many birds.
Some were unfamiliar, while others resembled birds I had known in other countries.
I began carrying a gun whenever I left my home.
One day, I shot a goat and brought it back to my shelter.
The meat provided several meals.
I was grateful to discover that the island could supply food.
Still, I knew that I must use my ammunition carefully.
I could not continue shooting animals forever unless I found another way to obtain food.
As the weeks passed, I developed a daily routine.
In the morning, I searched for food or collected useful materials.
During the hottest part of the day, I rested in the shade.
Later, I worked on my fence, tent, or storage room.
In the evening, I prepared food and made plans for the following day.
The work kept me occupied.
But when darkness came, I often felt terribly lonely.
I thought about my family in England and wondered whether they believed I was dead.
I remembered my plantation in Brazil, where I could have lived comfortably.
Instead, I was alone on an island, building a shelter with my own hands.
I could not change the past.
I could only continue working and hope that one day I would escape.
My new home was becoming stronger, but I still had much to learn about surviving on the island.