I soon found I had but a little passed by the place where I had been before when I travelled on foot to that shore: so, taking nothing out of my boat but my gun and my umbrella, for it was exceedingly hot, I began my march. The way was comfortable enough, after such a voyage as I had been upon, and I reached my old bower in the evening, where I found every thing standing as I left it; for I always kept it in good order, being, as I said before, my country house.
I got over the fence, and laid me down in the shade to rest my limbs, for I was very weary, and fell asleep; but judge if you can, you that read my story, what a surprise I must be in, when I was awaked out of my sleep by a voice calling me by my name several times, “Robin, Robin, Robin Crusoe, poor Robin Crusoe! Where are you, Robin Crusoe? Where are you! Where have you been?”
I was so dead asleep at first, being fatigued with rowing, or paddling, as it is called, the first part of the day, and walking the latter part, that I did not awake thoroughly; and dozing between sleeping and waking, thought I dreamed that somebody spoke to me; but as the voice continued to repeat, “Robin Crusoe, Robin Crusoe!” at last I began to awake more perfectly, and was at first dreadfully frighted, and started up in the utmost consternation: but no sooner were my eyes open, but I saw my Poll sitting on the top of the hedge, and immediately knew that this was he that spoke to me; for just in such bemoaning language I had used to talk to him, and teach him; and he had learned it so perfectly, that he would sit upon my finger, and lay his bill close to my face, and cry, “Poor Robin Crusoe, where are you? Where have you been? How came you here?” and such things as I had taught him.
However, even though I knew it was the parrot, and that indeed it could be nobody else, it was a good while before I could compose myself. First, I was amazed how the creature got thither, and then how he should just keep about the place, and no where else; but as I was well satisfied it could be nobody but honest Poll, I got it over; and, holding out my hand, and calling him by his name, “Poll!” the sociable creature came to me, and sat upon my thumb, as he used to do, and continued talking to me—”Poor Robin Crusoe!” and “How did I come here?” and “Where had I been?” just as if he had been overjoyed to see me again; and so I carried him home along with me.
I had now had enough of rambling to sea for some time, and had enough to do for many days to sit still and reflect upon the danger I had been in. I would have been very glad to have had my boat again on my side of the island, but I knew not how it was practicable to get it about: as to the east side of the island, which I had gone round, I knew well enough there was no venturing that way; my very heart would shrink, and my very blood run chill, but to think of it; and as to the other side of the island, I did not know how it might be there; but supposing the current ran with the same force against the shore at the east, as it passed by it on the other, I might run the same risk of being driven down the stream, and carried by the island, as I had been before of being carried away from it. So with these thoughts I contented myself to be without any boat, though it had been the product of so many months’ labour to make it, and of so many more to get it into the sea.
In this government of my temper I remained near a year—lived a very sedate retired life, as you may well suppose; and my thoughts being very much composed as to my condition, and fully comforted in resigning myself to the dispositions of Providence, I thought I lived really very happily in all things, except that of society.