It gave him a fleeting touch of home, and he could imagine once more, and, for a few seconds, that he was not alone on the island, but back in his province of New York, with his friends not far away.
Then came several days of fierce and continuous cold rain, but he put on an oilskin coat that he found among the stores and spent much of the time out of doors, hunting ducks along the edges of the larger lake, walking now and then for the sake of walking, and, on rare occasions, seeking the wild cattle for fresh meat.

The herds were in the timber most of the time for shelter, but he was invariably able to secure a tender cow or a yearling for his larder.

He saw the big bull often, and, although he was charged by him once again, he refused to pull trigger on the old fellow.

He preferred to look upon him as a friend whom he had met once in worthy combat, but with whom he was now at peace.

When the bull charged him he dodged him easily among the bushes and called out whimsically: "Let it be the last time! I don't mean you any harm!" The fierce leader went peacefully back to his grazing, and it seemed to Robert that he had been taken at his word.