The time I spent upon the island is still so horrible a thought to me that I must pass it lightly over.In all the books I have read of people cast away，either they had their pockets full of tools，or a chest of things would be thrown upon the beach along with them，as if on purpose.My case was very much different.I had nothing in my pockets but money and Alan‘s silver button；and being inland bred，I was as much short of knowledge as of means.
I knew，indeed，that shellfish were counted good to eat；and among the rocks of the isle I found a great plenty of limpets，which at first I could scarcely strike from their places，not knowing quickness to be needful.There were，besides，some of the little shells that we call buckies；I think periwinkle is the English name.Of these two I made my whole diet，devouring them cold and raw as I found them；and so hungry was I that at first they seemed to me delicious.
Perhaps they were out of season，or perhaps there was something wrong in the sea about my island.But at least I had no sooner eaten my first meal than I was seized with giddiness and retching，and lay for a long time no better than dead.A second trial of the same food （indeed，I had no other）did better with me and revived my strength.
But as long as I was on the island，I never knew what to expect when I had eaten；sometimes all was well，and sometimes I was thrown into a miserable sickness；nor could I ever distinguish what particular fish it was that hurt me.All day it streamed rain；there was no dry spot to be found；and when I lay down that night，between two boulders that made a kind of roof my feet were in a bog.
From a little up the hillside over the bay I could catch a sight of the great ancient church and the roofs of the people’s houses in Iona.And on the other hand，over the low country of the Ross，I saw smoke go up，morning and evening，as if from a homestead in a hollow of the land.
I used to watch this smoke，when I was wet and cold and had my head halfturned with loneliness，and think of the fireside and of the company till my heart burned.Altogether，this sight I had of men‘s homes and comfortable lives，although it put a point on my own sufferings，yet it kept hope alive，and helped me to eat my raw shellfish （which had soon grown to be a disgust），and saved me from the sense of horror I had whenever I was quite alone with dead rocks，and fowls，and the rain，andthe cold sea.
Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more days in the year in the climate of England than in any other.That was very like a king with a palace at his back and changes of dry clothes.But he must have had better luck on his flight from Worcester than I had on that miserable isle.It was the height of summer；yet it rained for more than twentyfour hours，and did not clear until the afternoon of the third day.
There is a pretty high rock on the northwest of Earraid，which （because it had a flat top and overlooked the Sound）I was much in the habit of frequenting；not that I ever stayed in one place，save when asleep，my misery giving me no rest.Indeed，I wore myself down with continual and aimless goings and comings in the rain.
As soon，however，as the sun came out，I lay down on the top of that rock to dry myself.The comfort of the sunshine is a thing I cannot tell.It set me thinking hopefully of my deliverance，of which I had begun to despair；and I scanned the sea and the Ross with a fresh interest.On the south of my rock a part of the island jutted out and hid the open ocean so that a boat could thus come quite near me upon that side and I be none the wiser.
Well，all of a sudden，a coble，with a brown sail and a pair of fishers aboard of it，came flying round that corner of the isle，bound for Iona.I shouted out，and then fell on my knees on the rock and prayed to them.They were near enough to hearI could even see the colour of their hairand there was no doubt but they observed me，for they cried out in the Gaelic tongue，and laughed.But the boat never turned aside，and flew right on，before my eyes，for Iona.
