(Continuing from Part 23)
As my barley and rice began to increase, I found myself facing a new difficulty.
I needed containers to store my grain, and I needed pots for preparing food.
When I first arrived on the island, I had rescued several useful objects from the ship. But I had not found enough cooking vessels.
I possessed a few metal containers, yet they were not suitable for every purpose.
I especially wanted a pot in which I could boil meat and make broth.
I had become tired of eating food prepared in the same simple ways.
If I could make pottery, my life would become much easier.
I had seen clay pots before, but I had never made one.
I knew that clay could be shaped when wet and hardened by heat.
Beyond that, I understood very little.
Nevertheless, I decided to try.
I searched the island until I found a place where the earth contained suitable clay.
I dug out a quantity and carried it home.
Then I mixed it with water and began shaping it.
At first, I tried to make a large pot.
I wanted something strong enough to hold a useful quantity of food or grain.
But I soon discovered how difficult the task was.
The wet clay was heavy and soft.
Whenever I tried to raise the sides, they bent under their own weight.
Sometimes the pot collapsed before I had finished shaping it.
At other times, I managed to form a rough vessel, only to discover that its walls were too thin.
I made several attempts, but none was successful.
I became frustrated.
A task that looked simple when performed by an experienced potter was extremely difficult for someone who had never learned the skill.
I had no pottery wheel, no proper tools, and nobody to show me what to do.
Everything depended on trial and error.
Eventually, I made two large, rough containers.
They were badly shaped, but I hoped they would be useful.
I placed them in the sun to dry.
For several days, I watched them carefully.
I wanted the clay to become hard enough to hold grain.
But as the containers dried, cracks began appearing.
One broke into pieces.
The other became so weak that I could hardly move it without damaging it.
I realized that drying clay in the sun was not enough to make strong pottery.
Still, I refused to abandon the idea.
I tried again, making smaller vessels.
I discovered that small pots were easier to shape because their sides did not collapse so readily.
I made several little dishes, bowls, and jars.
They were ugly and uneven, but I was pleased with them.
I placed them in the sun and allowed them to dry slowly.
Some survived, while others cracked.
I learned that the thickness of the clay mattered.
If one part was much thicker than another, the vessel often dried unevenly and broke.
I began shaping my pots more carefully.
One day, while cooking food over a fire, I noticed something interesting.
A broken piece of clay lay close to the burning wood.
It had been exposed to strong heat for some time.
When I examined it afterward, I discovered that it had become much harder than before.
The fire had changed the clay.
I struck it gently and found that it was almost as hard as stone.
This discovery excited me.
Perhaps I could harden my pots by placing them in a fire.
I decided to experiment.
I gathered several small clay vessels and placed them near a large fire.
Then I arranged dry wood around them.
I lit the wood and allowed it to burn strongly.
As the fire grew hotter, I watched the pots carefully.
Some became red from the heat.
I feared that they might break, but I continued.
I kept the fire burning for several hours.
When the wood had burned down, I allowed the vessels to cool.
Then I examined them.
To my great satisfaction, several had become hard and strong.
They were not beautiful, but they were useful.
I had succeeded in making pottery.
I was especially pleased with one small pot.
It appeared strong enough to hold water.
I filled it and watched carefully.
The water did not immediately escape through the sides.
This encouraged me to try using it for cooking.
I placed the pot near the fire and gradually heated it.
I was afraid that sudden heat might crack the clay.
But the pot survived.
Soon, the water began to grow hot.
Eventually, it boiled.
I was delighted.
For the first time, I could prepare food in a pot that I had made with my own hands.
I decided to cook some goat meat.
I cut the meat into pieces and placed it in the water.
Then I added whatever simple ingredients I had available.
The result was a kind of broth.
It was not as rich as the soups I remembered from England, but it tasted wonderful to me.
I had eaten roasted meat for so long that the change was very welcome.
I felt as proud of that rough clay pot as another man might feel of an expensive possession.
It had required many failures, but I had finally learned how to make something useful.
I continued experimenting with pottery.
I made more small vessels and tried to improve their shapes.
Some were suitable for holding water.
Others could store grain or dried food.
I also made shallow dishes that could be used during meals.
Not every attempt succeeded.
Several pots broke during drying or firing.
Others developed cracks when heated.
But I gradually learned which shapes were strongest and how much heat the clay could endure.
I began to understand that patience was the most important tool I possessed.
There were many things I could not make immediately.
But if I studied my failures and tried again, I could often discover a solution.
My pottery also gave me new hope for producing bread.
If I could make strong clay vessels, perhaps I could eventually make something suitable for baking.
I imagined sitting inside my shelter with a loaf of bread made from my own barley.
The thought pleased me greatly.
Such a simple meal would once have seemed ordinary.
Now it represented months of labor and learning.
As I arranged my new pots on the shelves inside my cave, I felt that my home was becoming more complete.
I had begun with almost nothing.
Now I possessed furniture, tools, baskets, grain, and pottery that I had made myself.
I was still alone, but I was no longer entirely dependent on the supplies rescued from the ship.
Little by little, I was learning how to live from the resources of the island.