As to the old one, I knew not what to do with him; he was so fierce, I durst not go into the pit to him—that is to say, to go about to bring him away alive, which was what I wanted. I could have killed him, but that was not my business, nor would it answer my end; so I even let him out, and he ran away as if he had been frightened out of his wits; but I did not then know what I afterwards learned, that hunger would tame a lion: if I had let him stay there three or four days without food and then have carried him some water to drink, and then a little corn, he would have been as tame as one of the kids; for they are mighty sagacious and tractable creatures, where they are well used.
However, for the present I let him go, knowing no better at that time; then I went to the three kids; and, taking them one by one, I tied them with strings together, and with considerable difficulty brought them all home.
It was a good while before they would feed; but throwing them some sweet corn, it tempted them, and they began to be tame: and now I found that if I expected to supply myself with goat’s flesh, when I had no powder or shot left, breeding some up tame was my only way, when, perhaps, I might have them about my house like a flock of sheep.
But then it presently occurred to me, that I must keep the tame from the wild, or else they would always run wild when they grew up; and the only way for this was to have some enclosed piece of ground, well fenced, either with hedge or pale, to keep them in so effectually, that those within might not break out, or those without break in.
This was a great undertaking for one pair of hands; yet as I saw there was an absolute necessity for doing it, my first piece of work was to find out a proper piece of ground, namely, where there was likely to be herbage for them to eat, water for them to drink, and cover to keep them from the sun.
Those who understand such enclosures, will think I had very little contrivance, when I pitched upon a place very proper for all these (being a plain open piece of meadow-land, or savanna, as our people call it in the western colonies), which had two or three little rills of fresh water in it; and at one end was very woody—I say, they will smile at my forecast, when I shall tell them I began by enclosing of this piece of ground in such a manner, that my hedge or pale must have been at least two miles about: nor was the madness of it so great as to the compass; for if it was ten miles about, I was like to have time enough to do it in; but I did not consider, that my goats would be as wild in so much compass, as if they had had the whole island; and I should have so much room to chase them in, that I should never catch them.
My hedge was begun and carried on, I believe, about fifty yards, when this thought occurred to me; so I presently stopped short, and for the first beginning I resolved to enclose a piece of about one hundred and fifty yards in length, and a hundred yards in breadth, which, as it would maintain as many as I should have in any reasonable time, so, as my flock increased, I could add more ground to my enclosure.
This was acting with some prudence, and I went to work with courage. I was about three months hedging in the first piece; and till I had done it, I tethered the three kids in the best part of it, and used them to feed as near me as possible, to make them familiar; and very often I would go and carry them some ears of barley, or a handful of rice, and feed them out of my hand; so that after my enclosure was finished, and I let them loose, they would follow me up and down, bleating after me for a handful of corn.