(Continuing from Part 20)
I had traveled farther across the island than ever before, and now I was having difficulty finding my way home.
The thick woods and surrounding hills prevented me from seeing familiar landmarks. Clouds had covered the sun, making it even harder to know which direction to take.
I decided that it would be foolish to continue walking without knowing where I was going.
Instead, I found a sheltered place and waited for the weather to improve.
I had enough food for the moment, and my gun was still loaded.
My dog remained beside me.
Although I was far from my home, his company made me feel less alone.
The following day, the weather improved enough for me to continue.
I climbed toward higher ground, hoping to see something familiar.
After some effort, I recognized the direction of the valley where I had built my country shelter.
I was greatly relieved.
I decided to follow a safer route, even if it required more walking.
I had learned that a short path was not always the best path.
During this journey, I also encountered something that would bring me pleasure for many years.
While walking through the woods, I noticed several parrots among the trees.
Their feathers were brightly colored, and they made loud, unusual cries.
I had seen parrots before during my travels, but I had never owned one.
I wondered whether I could capture a young bird and teach it to speak.
The thought was very attractive.
I had lived alone for so long that I sometimes spoke aloud simply to hear a human voice.
If I could teach a parrot a few words, I might have something that could answer me.
I approached the birds carefully.
After watching them for some time, I managed to obtain a young parrot.
I carried it with me and continued toward home.
I decided to call the bird Poll.
At first, Poll was frightened and restless.
I kept it safely and gave it food.
Gradually, it became accustomed to me.
I hoped that with patience I could teach it to repeat my name.
The idea made me smile.
I imagined hearing another voice say, “Robinson Crusoe,” even if the speaker was only a bird.
But teaching Poll would take a long time.
For the moment, my main concern was returning home safely.
As I continued walking, I noticed more of the island’s natural riches.
There were many trees that might provide useful timber.
Some areas contained thick grass where goats could feed.
Other places were covered with vines and fruit-bearing plants.
I began to understand that the island offered more resources than I had first believed.
When I arrived at my country shelter, I rested for a while.
The small enclosure stood among the trees, just as I had left it.
I was pleased to see that the branches I had planted around the fence were beginning to grow.
One day, I hoped they would form a thick wall of living trees.
Such a fence would provide shade and make the shelter difficult to see from outside.
After resting, I continued toward my main home.
When I finally saw the familiar hillside and the entrance to my enclosure, I felt an extraordinary sense of relief.
I had not been away for very long, but the journey had seemed much longer because of my difficulties.
I entered my shelter, put down my gun, and examined my possessions.
Everything was safe.
My tools were where I had left them.
My food had not been disturbed.
My tent and cave remained secure.
I was grateful to be home.
It seemed strange to use that word for a place where I had once felt imprisoned.
Yet I had worked so hard to build my shelter that I now felt attached to it.
I had made the furniture with my own hands.
I had cut the posts for the fence, dug the cave, and arranged every useful object.
The place belonged to me in a way that no other home ever had.
I began to understand that comfort did not always depend on wealth or luxury.
Sometimes it came from safety, familiar surroundings, and the knowledge that one’s work had been useful.
After my return, I decided to spend some time improving my home rather than making another long journey.
I also began caring for Poll more regularly.
I fed the young parrot and tried to make it familiar with my voice.
Whenever I worked nearby, I spoke to it.
“Poll,” I would say. “Poor Robinson Crusoe.”
At first, the bird only made its natural cries.
But I continued patiently.
I knew that parrots could learn to imitate human speech, although I did not know how long the process would take.
The thought of hearing my own name spoken aloud by another creature encouraged me.
My dog was faithful, but he could not speak.
The cats I had rescued from the ship were also useful companions, but they preferred to wander around the shelter.
Poll might become something different.
It might provide the sound of a voice in my lonely home.
Meanwhile, I continued observing the changing seasons.
The heavy rains had made travel difficult, and I knew that I needed to plan my work around the weather.
During wet periods, I remained near my shelter and repaired tools or arranged supplies.
When the weather was dry, I hunted, gathered food, and worked outside.
I also continued thinking about my small crop of barley and rice.
The discovery of grain had given me hope, but I still knew very little about growing it.
I needed to understand when to plant the seeds and how to protect them from animals.
If I succeeded, I might eventually produce enough grain to make bread.
That would be an important improvement in my life.
For now, however, I was satisfied to be safely home.
I had explored the opposite coast, discovered new sources of food, and learned more about the island.
I had also gained a new companion.
My journey had been difficult, but it had taught me a valuable lesson.
I must never become careless simply because I had survived many dangers.
The island was beautiful, but it could still be dangerous.
I would continue exploring it, but with greater patience and caution.
And each evening, as I returned to my shelter, I would remember how fortunate I was to have a place where I could rest in safety.