Chapter 10

"Yea! long as nature's humblest child
Hath kept her temple undefiled
By sinful sacrifice,
Earth's fairest scenes are all his own,
He is a monarch, and his throne
Is built amid the skies."

Wilson.

Our youthful hermit was quite two months in regaining his strength,
though, by the end of one he was able to look about him, and turn his
hand to many little necessary jobs. The first thing he undertook was to
set up a gate that would keep the animals on the outside of the crater.
The pigs had not only consumed much the largest portion of his garden
truck, but they had taken a fancy to break up the crust of that part of
the crater where the grass was showing itself, and to this inroad upon
his meadows, Mark had no disposition to submit. He had now ascertained
that the surface of the plain, though of a rocky appearance, was so far
shelly and porous that the seeds had taken very generally; and as soon
as their roots worked their way into the minute crevices, he felt
certain they would of themselves convert the whole surface into a soil
sufficiently rich to nourish the plants he wished to produce there.
Under such circumstances he did not desire the assistance of the hogs.
As yet, however, the animals had done good, rather than harm to the
garden, by stirring the soil up, and mixing the sea-weed and decayed
fish with it; but among the grass they threatened to be more
destructive; than useful. In most places the crust of the plain was just
thick enough to bear the weight of a man, and Mark, no geologist, by the
way, came to the conclusion that it existed at all more through the
agency of the salt deposited in ancient floods, than from any other
cause. According to the great general law of the earth, soil should have
been formed from rock, and not rock from soil: though there certainly
are cases in which the earths indurate, as well as become disintegrated.
As we are not professing to give a scientific account of these matters,
we shall simply state the facts, leaving better scholars than ourselves
to account for their existence.

Mark made his gate out of the fife-rail, at the foot of the mainmast,
sawing off the stanchions for that purpose. With a little alteration it
answered perfectly, being made to swing from a post that was wedged into
the arch, by cutting it to the proper length. As this was the first
attack upon the Rancocus that had yet been made, by axe or saw, it made
the young man melancholy; and it was only with great reluctance that he
could prevail on himself to begin what appeared like the commencement of
breaking up the good craft. It was done, however, and the gate was hung,
thereby saving the rest of the crop. It was high time; the hogs and
poultry, to say