With this
thought my spirits began to revive; and the rain also helping to
persuade me, I went in and sat down in my tent. But the rain was
so violent that my tent was ready to be beaten down with it; and I
was forced to go into my cave, though very much afraid and uneasy,
for fear it should fall on my head. This violent rain forced me to
a new work - viz. to cut a hole through my new fortification, like
a sink, to let the water go out, which would else have flooded my
cave. After I had been in my cave for some time, and found still
no more shocks of the earthquake follow, I began to be more
composed. And now, to support my spirits, which indeed wanted it
very much, I went to my little store, and took a small sup of rum;
which, however, I did then and always very sparingly, knowing I
could have no more when that was gone. It continued raining all
that night and great part of the next day, so that I could not stir
abroad; but my mind being more composed, I began to think of what I
had best do; concluding that if the island was subject to these
earthquakes, there would be no living for me in a cave, but I must
consider of building a little hut in an open place which I might
surround with a wall, as I had done here, and so make myself secure
from wild beasts or men; for I concluded, if I stayed where I was,
I should certainly one time or other be buried alive.
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