I was now at a great loss which way to get home with my boat:  I had run so much hazard, and knew too much of the case, to think of attempting it by the way I went out; and what might be at the other side (I mean the west side) I knew not, nor had I any mind to run any more ventures; so I only resolved in the morning to make my way westward along the shore, and to see if there was no creek where I might lay up my frigate in safety, so as to have her again, if I wanted her.  In about three miles, or thereabouts, coasting the shore, I came to a very good inlet or bay, about a mile over, which narrowed till it came to a very little rivulet or brook, where I found a very convenient harbour for my boat, and where she lay as if she had been in a little dock made on purpose for her.  Here I put in, and having stowed my boat very safe, I went on shore, to look about me, and see where I was.

I soon found I had but a little passed by the place where I had been before, when I travelled on foot to that shore; so taking nothing out of my boat but my gun and umbrella, for it was exceeding hot, I began my march.  The way was comfortable enough after such a voyage as I had been upon, and I reached my old bower in the evening, where I found every thing standing as I left it; for I always kept it in good order, being, as I said before, my country house.

I got over the fence, and laid me down in the shade, to rest my limbs, for I was very weary, and fell asleep:  but judge you, if you can, that read my story, what a surprise I must be in, when I was awaked out of my sleep by a voice, calling me by my name several times, “Robin, Robin, Robin Crusoe; poor Robin Crusoe!  Where are you, Robin Crusoe?  Where are you?  Where have you been!”

I was so dead asleep at first, being fatigued with rowing, or paddling, as it is called, the first part of the day, and with walking the latter part, that I did not wake thoroughly; but dozing between sleeping and waking, thought I dreamed that somebody spoke to me; but as the voice continued to repeat Robin Crusoe, Robin Crusoe, at last I began to wake more perfectly, and was at first dreadfully frightened, and started up in the utmost consternation; but no sooner were my eyes open, but I saw my Pol sitting on the top of the hedge; and immediately knew it was he that spoke to me; for just in such bemoaning language I had used to talk to him, and teach him; and he had learned it so perfectly, that he would sit upon my finger, and lay his bill close to my face, and cry, “Poor Robin Crusoe!  Where are you?  Where have you been?  How came you here?” and such things as I had taught him.

However, even though I knew it was the parrot, and that indeed it could be nobody else, it was a good while before I could compose myself.  First, I was amazed how the creature got thither, and then, how he should just keep about the place, and no where else:  but as I was well satisfied it could be nobody but honest Pol, I got over it; and holding out my hand, and calling him by his name, Pol, the sociable creature came to me, and sat upon my thumb, as he used to do and continued talking to me, Poor Robin Crusoe! and how did I come here? and where had I been? just as if he had been overjoyed to see me again:  and so I carried him home along with me.