THE SHIPWRECKED SAILOR ON THE SMOKING ROCK
As I have said, time glided away so fast, our days were filled with such varied labours and resources, that the wet seasons came and went with inconceivable rapidity, and I was startled to find, on reckoning up one day, that we had been ten years on our island.
The ten years were years of conquest and establishment. We had constructed several homes, built a solid wall across the defile, which would secure us against invasion from the wild beasts which infested the desert. The part of the country in which we lived was defended by high mountains on one side, and the ocean on the other; we had traversed the whole extent, and rested in perfect surety that no enemy lurked within it.
Cliff House was a safe retreat for us during the storms of winter, while Falcon's Nest was our