The third thing to be done was to build a fence around my field. After that came the reaping, the curing, the carrying home, the thrashing, the parting of the grain from the chaff, the grinding.
I needed a mill to do the grinding. I needed a sieve to sift the flour. I needed yeast and salt to mix with the dough. I needed an oven to bake it.
I had to do without the most of these things. And this made my work very slow and hard.
I was very lucky in having saved so many tools from the wreck, and for this I was indeed thankful. What a hard case I would have been in if I had saved nothing at all!
From time to time, as I felt the need of things I made a number of tools that served me very well. They were not such tools as you would buy at the store, but what did it matter?
I have already told you about the shovel which I made from a piece of hard wood. Next to the shovel I needed a pickax most of all.
Among the many things that I had saved from the wreck, I found an old crowbar. This I heated in the fire until it was almost white hot.
I then found that I could bend it quite easily. Little by little I shaped it until I had made quite a good pickax of it. Of course, it was heavy and not at all pretty. But who would look for beauty in a pickax?
I at first felt the need of some light baskets in which to carry my fruit and grain. So I began to study how baskets are made.
It was not until I had searched almost every nook on the island that I found some long slender twigs that would bend to make wicker ware. Then I spent many an hour learning how to weave these twigs together and shape them into the form of a basket.
In the end, however, I was able to make as good baskets as were ever bought in the market.
I had quite a goodly number of edge tools. Among these there were three large axes and a great store of hatchets; for you will remember that we carried hatchets to trade with the savages. I had also many knives.
But all these became very dull with use. I had saved a grindstone from the wreck, but I could not turn it and grind my tools at the same time.
I studied hard to overcome this difficulty. At last, I managed to fasten a string to the crank of the grindstone in such a way that I could turn it with my foot.
My tools were soon sharp, and I kept them so.
I BECOME A POTTER
WHEN it came to making bread
It would be hard to make wooden vessels
If I could find some good clay