Chapter 12
Crafts, a failed canoe, and reconciliation
English edition
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1 At dawn, the castaway turns his first hard-burnt pipkin, its sand-melted glaze shining
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2 Crusoe bends over steaming broth in his first clay pot as Poll watches from his perch
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4 Crusoe rests a hand on his vast cedar dugout, which points to a creek it cannot yet reach
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6 In an open drawer, mould-spotted coins lie forgotten beneath an idle sun-browned hand
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7 At the cave mouth, Crusoe looks over his green plain and the sea, quiet and thankful
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8 The castaway looks down with rueful pride at his goat-skin cap, waistcoat and breeches
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9 Crusoe folds his goat-skin umbrella as two spoiled frames lie on the sand at his feet
In the text →