"Now, my dear Elizabeth," said I, waking early next morning, "let us talk a little on this grand project of changing our residence; to which there are many objections.

First, it seems wise to remain on the spot where Providence has cast us, where we can have at once means of support drawn from the ship, and security from all attacks, protected by the rock, the river, and the sea on all sides." My wife distrusted the river, which could not protect us from the jackals, and complained of the intolerable heat of this sandy desert, of her distaste for such food as oysters and wild geese; and, lastly, of her agony of mind, when we ventured to the wreck; willingly renouncing all its treasures, and begging we might rest content with the blessings we already had.
"There is some truth in your objections," said I, "and perhaps we may erect a dwelling under the roots of your favourite tree; but among these rocks we must have a storehouse for our goods, and a retreat in case of invasion.

I hope, by blowing off some pieces of the rock with powder, to be able to fortify the part next the river, leaving a secret passage known only to ourselves.

This would make it impregnable.

But before we proceed, we must have a bridge to convey our baggage across the river.
"A bridge," said she, in a tone of vexation; "then when shall we get from here?
Why cannot we ford it as usual?
The cow and ass could carry our stores." I explained to her how necessary it was for our ammunition and provision to be conveyed over without risk of wetting, and begged her to manufacture some bags and baskets, and leave the bridge to me and my boys.