CHAPTER XV. FRIDAY’S EDUCATION

After I had been two or three days returned to my castle, I thought

that, in order to bring Friday off from his horrid way of feeding, and

from the relish of a cannibal’s stomach, I ought to let him taste other

flesh; so I took him out with me one morning to the woods. I went,

indeed, intending to kill a kid out of my own flock; and bring it home

and dress it; but as I was going I saw a she-goat lying down in the

shade, and two young kids sitting by her. I catched hold of Friday.

“Hold,” said I, “stand still;” and made signs to him not to stir:

immediately I presented my piece, shot, and killed one of the kids. The

poor creature, who had at a distance, indeed, seen me kill the savage,

his enemy, but did not know, nor could imagine how it was done, was

sensibly surprised, trembled, and shook, and looked so amazed that I

thought he would have sunk down. He did not see the kid I shot at, or

perceive I had killed it, but ripped up his waistcoat to feel whether

he was not wounded; and, as I found presently, thought I was resolved

to kill him: for he came and kneeled down to me, and embracing my

knees, said a great many things I did not understand; but I could

easily see the meaning was to pray me not to kill him.

I soon found a way to convince him that I would do him no harm; and

taking him up by the hand, laughed at him, and pointing to the kid

which I had killed, beckoned to him to run and fetch it, which he did:

and while he was wondering, and looking to see how the creature was

killed, I loaded my gun again. By-and-by I saw a great fowl, like a

hawk, sitting upon a tree within shot; so, to let Friday understand a

little what I would do, I called him to me again, pointed at the fowl,

which was indeed a parrot, though I thought it had been a hawk; I say,

pointing to the parrot, and to my gun, and to the ground under the

parrot, to let him see I would make it fall, I made him understand that

I would shoot and kill that bird; accordingly, I fired, and bade him

look, and immediately he saw the parrot fall. He stood like one

frightened again, notwithstanding all I had said to him; and I found he

was the more amazed, because he did not see me put anything into the

gun, but thought that there must be some wonderful fund of death and

destruction in that thing, able to kill man, beast, bird, or anything

near or far off; and the astonishment this created in him was such as

could not wear off for a long time; and I believe, if I would have let

him, he would have worshipped me and my gun. As for the gun itself, he

would not so much as touch it for several days after; but he would

speak to it and talk to it, as if it had answered him, when he was by

himself; which, as I afterwards learned of him, was to desire it not to

kill him. Well, after his astonishment was a little over at this, I

pointed to him to run and fetch the bird I had shot, which he did, but

stayed some time; for the parrot, not being quite dead, had fluttered

away a good distance from the place where she fell: however, he found

her, took her up, and brought her to me; and as I had perceived his

ignorance about the gun before, I took this advantage to charge the gun

again, and not to let him see me do it, that I might be ready for any

other mark that might present; but nothing more offered at that time:

so I brought home the kid, and the same evening I took the skin off,

and cut it out as well as I could; and having a pot fit for that

purpose, I boiled or stewed some of the flesh, and made some very good

broth. After I had begun to eat some I gave some to my man, who seemed

very glad of it, and liked it very well; but that which was strangest

to him was to see me eat salt with it. He made a sign to me that the

salt was not good to eat; and putting a little into his own mouth, he

seemed to nauseate it, and would spit and sputter at it, washing his

mouth with fresh water after it: on the other hand, I took some meat

into my mouth without salt, and I pretended to spit and sputter for

want of salt, as much as he had done at the salt; but it would not do;

he would never care for salt with meat or in his broth; at least, not

for a great while, and then but a very little.

Having thus fed him with boiled meat and broth, I was resolved to feast

him the next day by roasting a piece of the kid: this I did by hanging

it before the fire on a string, as I had seen many people do in

England, setting two poles up, one on each side of the fire, and one

across the top, and tying the string to the cross stick, letting the

meat turn continually. This Friday admired very much; but when he came

to taste the flesh, he took so many ways to tell me how well he liked

it, that I could not but understand him: and at last he told me, as

well as he could, he would never eat man’s flesh any more, which I was

very glad to hear.

The next day I set him to work beating some corn out, and sifting it in

the manner I used to do, as I observed before; and he soon understood

how to do it as well as I, especially after he had seen what the

meaning of it was, and that it was to make bread of; for after that I

let him see me make my bread, and bake it too; and in a little time

Friday was able to do all the work for me as well as I could do it

myself.

I began now to consider, that having two mouths to feed instead of one,

I must provide more ground for my harvest, and plant a larger quantity

of corn than I used to do; so I marked out a larger piece of land, and

began the fence in the same manner as before, in which Friday worked

not only very willingly and very hard, but did it very cheerfully: and

I told him what it was for; that it was for corn to make more bread,

because he was now with me, and that I might have enough for him and

myself too. He appeared very sensible of that part, and let me know

that he thought I had much more labour upon me on his account than I

had for myself; and that he would work the harder for me if I would

tell him what to do.

This was the pleasantest year of all the life I led in this place.

Friday began to talk pretty well, and understand the names of almost

everything I had occasion to call for, and of every place I had to send

him to, and talked a great deal to me; so that, in short, I began now

to have some use for my tongue again, which, indeed, I had very little

occasion for before. Besides the pleasure of talking to him, I had a

singular satisfaction in the fellow himself: his simple, unfeigned

honesty appeared to me more and more every day, and I began really to

love the creature; and on his side I believe he loved me more than it

was possible for him ever to love anything before.

I had a mind once to try if he had any inclination for his own country

again; and having taught him English so well that he could answer me

almost any question, I asked him whether the nation that he belonged to

never conquered in battle? At which he smiled, and said—“Yes, yes, we

always fight the better;” that is, he meant always get the better in

fight; and so we began the following discourse:—

_Master_.—You always fight the better; how came you to be taken

prisoner, then, Friday?

_Friday_.—My nation beat much for all that.

_Master_.—How beat? If your nation beat them, how came you to be taken?

_Friday_.—They more many than my nation, in the place where me was;

they take one, two, three, and me: my nation over-beat them in the

yonder place, where me no was; there my nation take one, two, great

thousand.

_Master_.—But why did not your side recover you from the hands of your

enemies, then?

_Friday_.—They run, one, two, three, and me, and make go in the canoe;

my nation have no canoe that time.

_Master_.—Well, Friday, and what does your nation do with the men they

take? Do they carry them away and eat them, as these did?

_Friday_.—Yes, my nation eat mans too; eat all up.

_Master_.—Where do they carry them?

_Friday_.—Go to other place, where they think.

_Master_.—Do they come hither?

_Friday_.—Yes, yes, they come hither; come other else place.

_Master_.—Have you been here with them?

_Friday_.—Yes, I have been here (points to the NW. side of the island,

which, it seems, was their side).

By this I understood that my man Friday had formerly been among the

savages who used to come on shore on the farther part of the island, on

the same man-eating occasions he was now brought for; and some time

after, when I took the courage to carry him to that side, being the

same I formerly mentioned, he presently knew the place, and told me he

was there once, when they ate up twenty men, two women, and one child;

he could not tell twenty in English, but he numbered them by laying so

many stones in a row, and pointing to me to tell them over.

I have told this passage, because it introduces what follows: that

after this discourse I had with him, I asked him how far it was from

our island to the shore, and whether the canoes were not often lost. He

told me there was no danger, no canoes ever lost: but that after a

little way out to sea, there was a current and wind, always one way in

the morning, the other in the afternoon. This I understood to be no

more than the sets of the tide, as going out or coming in; but I

afterwards understood it was occasioned by the great draft and reflux

of the mighty river Orinoco, in the mouth or gulf of which river, as I

found afterwards, our island lay; and that this land, which I perceived

to be W. and NW., was the great island Trinidad, on the north point of

the mouth of the river. I asked Friday a thousand questions about the

country, the inhabitants, the sea, the coast, and what nations were

near; he told me all he knew with the greatest openness imaginable. I

asked him the names of the several nations of his sort of people, but

could get no other name than Caribs; from whence I easily understood

that these were the Caribbees, which our maps place on the part of

America which reaches from the mouth of the river Orinoco to Guiana,

and onwards to St. Martha. He told me that up a great way beyond the

moon, that was beyond the setting of the moon, which must be west from

their country, there dwelt white bearded men, like me, and pointed to

my great whiskers, which I mentioned before; and that they had killed

much mans, that was his word: by all which I understood he meant the

Spaniards, whose cruelties in America had been spread over the whole

country, and were remembered by all the nations from father to son.

I inquired if he could tell me how I might go from this island, and get

among those white men. He told me, “Yes, yes, you may go in two canoe.”

I could not understand what he meant, or make him describe to me what

he meant by two canoe, till at last, with great difficulty, I found he

meant it must be in a large boat, as big as two canoes. This part of

Friday’s discourse I began to relish very well; and from this time I

entertained some hopes that, one time or other, I might find an

opportunity to make my escape from this place, and that this poor

savage might be a means to help me.

During the long time that Friday had now been with me, and that he

began to speak to me, and understand me, I was not wanting to lay a

foundation of religious knowledge in his mind; particularly I asked him

one time, who made him. The creature did not understand me at all, but

thought I had asked who was his father—but I took it up by another

handle, and asked him who made the sea, the ground we walked on, and

the hills and woods. He told me, “It was one Benamuckee, that lived

beyond all;” he could describe nothing of this great person, but that

he was very old, “much older,” he said, “than the sea or land, than the

moon or the stars.” I asked him then, if this old person had made all

things, why did not all things worship him? He looked very grave, and,

with a perfect look of innocence, said, “All things say O to him.” I

asked him if the people who die in his country went away anywhere? He

said, “Yes; they all went to Benamuckee.” Then I asked him whether

those they eat up went thither too. He said, “Yes.”

From these things, I began to instruct him in the knowledge of the true

God; I told him that the great Maker of all things lived up there,

pointing up towards heaven; that He governed the world by the same

power and providence by which He made it; that He was omnipotent, and

could do everything for us, give everything to us, take everything from

us; and thus, by degrees, I opened his eyes. He listened with great

attention, and received with pleasure the notion of Jesus Christ being

sent to redeem us; and of the manner of making our prayers to God, and

His being able to hear us, even in heaven. He told me one day, that if

our God could hear us, up beyond the sun, he must needs be a greater

God than their Benamuckee, who lived but a little way off, and yet

could not hear till they went up to the great mountains where he dwelt

to speak to them. I asked him if ever he went thither to speak to him.

He said, “No; they never went that were young men; none went thither

but the old men,” whom he called their Oowokakee; that is, as I made

him explain to me, their religious, or clergy; and that they went to

say O (so he called saying prayers), and then came back and told them

what Benamuckee said. By this I observed, that there is priestcraft

even among the most blinded, ignorant pagans in the world; and the

policy of making a secret of religion, in order to preserve the

veneration of the people to the clergy, not only to be found in the

Roman, but, perhaps, among all religions in the world, even among the

most brutish and barbarous savages.

I endeavoured to clear up this fraud to my man Friday; and told him

that the pretence of their old men going up to the mountains to say O

to their god Benamuckee was a cheat; and their bringing word from

thence what he said was much more so; that if they met with any answer,

or spake with any one there, it must be with an evil spirit; and then I

entered into a long discourse with him about the devil, the origin of

him, his rebellion against God, his enmity to man, the reason of it,

his setting himself up in the dark parts of the world to be worshipped

instead of God, and as God, and the many stratagems he made use of to

delude mankind to their ruin; how he had a secret access to our

passions and to our affections, and to adapt his snares to our

inclinations, so as to cause us even to be our own tempters, and run

upon our destruction by our own choice.

I found it was not so easy to imprint right notions in his mind about

the devil as it was about the being of a God. Nature assisted all my

arguments to evidence to him even the necessity of a great First Cause,

an overruling, governing Power, a secret directing Providence, and of

the equity and justice of paying homage to Him that made us, and the

like; but there appeared nothing of this kind in the notion of an evil

spirit, of his origin, his being, his nature, and above all, of his

inclination to do evil, and to draw us in to do so too; and the poor

creature puzzled me once in such a manner, by a question merely natural

and innocent, that I scarce knew what to say to him. I had been talking

a great deal to him of the power of God, His omnipotence, His aversion

to sin, His being a consuming fire to the workers of iniquity; how, as

He had made us all, He could destroy us and all the world in a moment;

and he listened with great seriousness to me all the while. After this

I had been telling him how the devil was God’s enemy in the hearts of

men, and used all his malice and skill to defeat the good designs of

Providence, and to ruin the kingdom of Christ in the world, and the

like. “Well,” says Friday, “but you say God is so strong, so great; is

He not much strong, much might as the devil?” “Yes, yes,” says I,

“Friday; God is stronger than the devil—God is above the devil, and

therefore we pray to God to tread him down under our feet, and enable

us to resist his temptations and quench his fiery darts.” “But,” says

he again, “if God much stronger, much might as the wicked devil, why

God no kill the devil, so make him no more do wicked?” I was strangely

surprised at this question; and, after all, though I was now an old

man, yet I was but a young doctor, and ill qualified for a casuist or a

solver of difficulties; and at first I could not tell what to say; so I

pretended not to hear him, and asked him what he said; but he was too

earnest for an answer to forget his question, so that he repeated it in

the very same broken words as above. By this time I had recovered

myself a little, and I said, “God will at last punish him severely; he

is reserved for the judgment, and is to be cast into the bottomless

pit, to dwell with everlasting fire.” This did not satisfy Friday; but

he returns upon me, repeating my words, “‘_Reserve at last!_’ me no

understand—but why not kill the devil now; not kill great ago?” “You

may as well ask me,” said I, “why God does not kill you or me, when we

do wicked things here that offend Him—we are preserved to repent and be

pardoned.” He mused some time on this. “Well, well,” says he, mighty

affectionately, “that well—so you, I, devil, all wicked, all preserve,

repent, God pardon all.” Here I was run down again by him to the last

degree; and it was a testimony to me, how the mere notions of nature,

though they will guide reasonable creatures to the knowledge of a God,

and of a worship or homage due to the supreme being of God, as the

consequence of our nature, yet nothing but divine revelation can form

the knowledge of Jesus Christ, and of redemption purchased for us; of a

Mediator of the new covenant, and of an Intercessor at the footstool of

God’s throne; I say, nothing but a revelation from Heaven can form

these in the soul; and that, therefore, the gospel of our Lord and

Saviour Jesus Christ, I mean the Word of God, and the Spirit of God,

promised for the guide and sanctifier of His people, are the absolutely

necessary instructors of the souls of men in the saving knowledge of

God and the means of salvation.

I therefore diverted the present discourse between me and my man,

rising up hastily, as upon some sudden occasion of going out; then

sending him for something a good way off, I seriously prayed to God

that He would enable me to instruct savingly this poor savage;

assisting, by His Spirit, the heart of the poor ignorant creature to

receive the light of the knowledge of God in Christ, reconciling him to

Himself, and would guide me so to speak to him from the Word of God

that his conscience might be convinced, his eyes opened, and his soul

saved. When he came again to me, I entered into a long discourse with

him upon the subject of the redemption of man by the Saviour of the

world, and of the doctrine of the gospel preached from Heaven, viz. of

repentance towards God, and faith in our blessed Lord Jesus. I then

explained to him as well as I could why our blessed Redeemer took not

on Him the nature of angels but the seed of Abraham; and how, for that

reason, the fallen angels had no share in the redemption; that He came

only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and the like.

I had, God knows, more sincerity than knowledge in all the methods I

took for this poor creature’s instruction, and must acknowledge, what I

believe all that act upon the same principle will find, that in laying

things open to him, I really informed and instructed myself in many

things that either I did not know or had not fully considered before,

but which occurred naturally to my mind upon searching into them, for

the information of this poor savage; and I had more affection in my

inquiry after things upon this occasion than ever I felt before: so

that, whether this poor wild wretch was better for me or no, I had

great reason to be thankful that ever he came to me; my grief sat

lighter upon me; my habitation grew comfortable to me beyond measure:

and when I reflected that in this solitary life which I have been

confined to, I had not only been moved to look up to heaven myself, and

to seek the Hand that had brought me here, but was now to be made an

instrument, under Providence, to save the life, and, for aught I knew,

the soul of a poor savage, and bring him to the true knowledge of

religion and of the Christian doctrine, that he might know Christ

Jesus, in whom is life eternal; I say, when I reflected upon all these

things, a secret joy ran through every part of my soul, and I

frequently rejoiced that ever I was brought to this place, which I had

so often thought the most dreadful of all afflictions that could

possibly have befallen me.

I continued in this thankful frame all the remainder of my time; and

the conversation which employed the hours between Friday and me was

such as made the three years which we lived there together perfectly

and completely happy, if any such thing as complete happiness can be

formed in a sublunary state. This savage was now a good Christian, a

much better than I; though I have reason to hope, and bless God for it,

that we were equally penitent, and comforted, restored penitents. We

had here the Word of God to read, and no farther off from His Spirit to

instruct than if we had been in England. I always applied myself, in

reading the Scripture, to let him know, as well as I could, the meaning

of what I read; and he again, by his serious inquiries and

questionings, made me, as I said before, a much better scholar in the

Scripture knowledge than I should ever have been by my own mere private

reading. Another thing I cannot refrain from observing here also, from

experience in this retired part of my life, viz. how infinite and

inexpressible a blessing it is that the knowledge of God, and of the

doctrine of salvation by Christ Jesus, is so plainly laid down in the

Word of God, so easy to be received and understood, that, as the bare

reading the Scripture made me capable of understanding enough of my

duty to carry me directly on to the great work of sincere repentance

for my sins, and laying hold of a Saviour for life and salvation, to a

stated reformation in practice, and obedience to all God’s commands,

and this without any teacher or instructor, I mean human; so the same

plain instruction sufficiently served to the enlightening this savage

creature, and bringing him to be such a Christian as I have known few

equal to him in my life.

As to all the disputes, wrangling, strife, and contention which have

happened in the world about religion, whether niceties in doctrines or

schemes of church government, they were all perfectly useless to us,

and, for aught I can yet see, they have been so to the rest of the

world. We had the sure guide to heaven, viz. the Word of God; and we

had, blessed be God, comfortable views of the Spirit of God teaching

and instructing by His word, leading us into all truth, and making us

both willing and obedient to the instruction of His word. And I cannot

see the least use that the greatest knowledge of the disputed points of

religion, which have made such confusion in the world, would have been

to us, if we could have obtained it. But I must go on with the

historical part of things, and take every part in its order.

After Friday and I became more intimately acquainted, and that he could

understand almost all I said to him, and speak pretty fluently, though

in broken English, to me, I acquainted him with my own history, or at

least so much of it as related to my coming to this place: how I had

lived there, and how long; I let him into the mystery, for such it was

to him, of gunpowder and bullet, and taught him how to shoot. I gave

him a knife, which he was wonderfully delighted with; and I made him a

belt, with a frog hanging to it, such as in England we wear hangers in;

and in the frog, instead of a hanger, I gave him a hatchet, which was

not only as good a weapon in some cases, but much more useful upon

other occasions.

I described to him the country of Europe, particularly England, which I

came from; how we lived, how we worshipped God, how we behaved to one

another, and how we traded in ships to all parts of the world. I gave

him an account of the wreck which I had been on board of, and showed

him, as near as I could, the place where she lay; but she was all

beaten in pieces before, and gone. I showed him the ruins of our boat,

which we lost when we escaped, and which I could not stir with my whole

strength then; but was now fallen almost all to pieces. Upon seeing

this boat, Friday stood, musing a great while, and said nothing. I

asked him what it was he studied upon. At last says he, “Me see such

boat like come to place at my nation.” I did not understand him a good

while; but at last, when I had examined further into it, I understood

by him that a boat, such as that had been, came on shore upon the

country where he lived: that is, as he explained it, was driven thither

by stress of weather. I presently imagined that some European ship must

have been cast away upon their coast, and the boat might get loose and

drive ashore; but was so dull that I never once thought of men making

their escape from a wreck thither, much less whence they might come: so

I only inquired after a description of the boat.

Friday described the boat to me well enough; but brought me better to

understand him when he added with some warmth, “We save the white mans

from drown.” Then I presently asked if there were any white mans, as he

called them, in the boat. “Yes,” he said; “the boat full of white

mans.” I asked him how many. He told upon his fingers seventeen. I

asked him then what became of them. He told me, “They live, they dwell

at my nation.”

This put new thoughts into my head; for I presently imagined that these

might be the men belonging to the ship that was cast away in the sight

of my island, as I now called it; and who, after the ship was struck on

the rock, and they saw her inevitably lost, had saved themselves in

their boat, and were landed upon that wild shore among the savages.

Upon this I inquired of him more critically what was become of them. He

assured me they lived still there; that they had been there about four

years; that the savages left them alone, and gave them victuals to live

on. I asked him how it came to pass they did not kill them and eat

them. He said, “No, they make brother with them;” that is, as I

understood him, a truce; and then he added, “They no eat mans but when

make the war fight;” that is to say, they never eat any men but such as

come to fight with them and are taken in battle.

It was after this some considerable time, that being upon the top of

the hill at the east side of the island, from whence, as I have said, I

had, in a clear day, discovered the main or continent of America,

Friday, the weather being very serene, looks very earnestly towards the

mainland, and, in a kind of surprise, falls a jumping and dancing, and

calls out to me, for I was at some distance from him. I asked him what

was the matter. “Oh, joy!” says he; “Oh, glad! there see my country,

there my nation!” I observed an extraordinary sense of pleasure

appeared in his face, and his eyes sparkled, and his countenance

discovered a strange eagerness, as if he had a mind to be in his own

country again. This observation of mine put a great many thoughts into

me, which made me at first not so easy about my new man Friday as I was

before; and I made no doubt but that, if Friday could get back to his

own nation again, he would not only forget all his religion but all his

obligation to me, and would be forward enough to give his countrymen an

account of me, and come back, perhaps with a hundred or two of them,

and make a feast upon me, at which he might be as merry as he used to

be with those of his enemies when they were taken in war. But I wronged

the poor honest creature very much, for which I was very sorry

afterwards. However, as my jealousy increased, and held some weeks, I

was a little more circumspect, and not so familiar and kind to him as

before: in which I was certainly wrong too; the honest, grateful

creature having no thought about it but what consisted with the best

principles, both as a religious Christian and as a grateful friend, as

appeared afterwards to my full satisfaction.

While my jealousy of him lasted, you may be sure I was every day

pumping him to see if he would discover any of the new thoughts which I

suspected were in him; but I found everything he said was so honest and

so innocent, that I could find nothing to nourish my suspicion; and in

spite of all my uneasiness, he made me at last entirely his own again;

nor did he in the least perceive that I was uneasy, and therefore I

could not suspect him of deceit.

One day, walking up the same hill, but the weather being hazy at sea,

so that we could not see the continent, I called to him, and said,

“Friday, do not you wish yourself in your own country, your own

nation?” “Yes,” he said, “I be much O glad to be at my own nation.”

“What would you do there?” said I. “Would you turn wild again, eat

men’s flesh again, and be a savage as you were before?” He looked full

of concern, and shaking his head, said, “No, no, Friday tell them to

live good; tell them to pray God; tell them to eat corn-bread, cattle

flesh, milk; no eat man again.” “Why, then,” said I to him, “they will

kill you.” He looked grave at that, and then said, “No, no, they no

kill me, they willing love learn.” He meant by this, they would be

willing to learn. He added, they learned much of the bearded mans that

came in the boat. Then I asked him if he would go back to them. He

smiled at that, and told me that he could not swim so far. I told him I

would make a canoe for him. He told me he would go if I would go with

him. “I go!” says I; “why, they will eat me if I come there.” “No, no,”

says he, “me make they no eat you; me make they much love you.” He

meant, he would tell them how I had killed his enemies, and saved his

life, and so he would make them love me. Then he told me, as well as he

could, how kind they were to seventeen white men, or bearded men, as he

called them who came on shore there in distress.

From this time, I confess, I had a mind to venture over, and see if I

could possibly join with those bearded men, who I made no doubt were

Spaniards and Portuguese; not doubting but, if I could, we might find

some method to escape from thence, being upon the continent, and a good

company together, better than I could from an island forty miles off

the shore, alone and without help. So, after some days, I took Friday

to work again by way of discourse, and told him I would give him a boat

to go back to his own nation; and, accordingly, I carried him to my

frigate, which lay on the other side of the island, and having cleared

it of water (for I always kept it sunk in water), I brought it out,

showed it him, and we both went into it. I found he was a most

dexterous fellow at managing it, and would make it go almost as swift

again as I could. So when he was in, I said to him, “Well, now, Friday,

shall we go to your nation?” He looked very dull at my saying so; which

it seems was because he thought the boat was too small to go so far. I

then told him I had a bigger; so the next day I went to the place where

the first boat lay which I had made, but which I could not get into the

water. He said that was big enough; but then, as I had taken no care of

it, and it had lain two or three and twenty years there, the sun had so

split and dried it, that it was rotten. Friday told me such a boat

would do very well, and would carry “much enough vittle, drink, bread;”

this was his way of talking.