I jerked the spade loose and fell to.
I now discovered the great truth that digging for treasure is the
most thrilling and absorbing occupation known to man. Time ceased
to be, and the weight of the damp and close-packed sand seemed,
that of feathers. This temporary state of exaltation passed, to be
sure, and the sand got very heavy, and my back ached, but still I
dug. Crusoe watched proceedings interestedly at first, then
wandered off on business of his own. Presently he returned and
began to fuss about and bark. He was a restless little beast,
wanting to be always on the move. He came and tugged at my skirt,
uttering an uneasy whine.
"Be quiet, Crusoe!" I commanded, threatening him with my spade.
The madness of the treasure-lust possessed me. I was panting now,
and my hands began to feel like baseball mitts, but still I dug.
Crusoe had ceased to importune me; vaguely I was aware that he had
got tired and run off. I toiled on, pausing now and then for
breath. I was leaning on my spade, rather dejectedly considering
the modest excavation I had achieved, when I felt a little cool
splash at my feet. Dropping my spade I whirled around--and a
shriek echoed through the cave as I saw pouring into it the dark
insidious torrent of the returning tide.
How had I forgotten it, that deadly thing, muttering to itself out
there, ready to spring back like an unleashed beast? Crusoe had
warned me--and then he had forsaken me, and I was alone.
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