Robinson
tried to think how it might have gotten there, but he could not. It
was a mystery. He was greatly afraid and started at once for his
shelter. He ran like one pursued. At every little way he would look
behind to see if anyone was following him.
Never a frightened rabbit ran to his hiding place with more terror
than Robinson ran to his cave. He did not sleep that night for fear
and remained in his shelter for three days, never venturing out. But
his food was growing short and his goats needed to be milked. He
finally with a thousand wild fancies forced himself to go about his
duties.
But he could not get the footprint out of his mind. He spent many sad
and fearful days thinking about it. "How could it have gotten there?
Whose was it? Was the owner savage or not? What did he want on the
island?" were some of the questions that haunted him.
"Perhaps," he thought one day, "I just imagined I saw a footprint,
or perhaps it was one of my own that I have made when going to sail
my boat." He took courage at this and began to go about the island
again. But he went in great fear, always looking behind him. He was
always ready to run at the first sign of danger. He had made himself
a large, strong, new bow and plenty of arrows. He carried these in
a quiver he had made from his cloth. He fashioned too a sharp-pointed,
lance-like weapon which he hurled with a kind of sling. In his belt
he carried some new sharpened stone knives.
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