I began now to perceive my powder abated considerably; this was a want which it was impossible for me to supply, and I began seriously to consider what I must do when I should have no more powder; that is to say, how I should do to kill any goats.  I had, as is observed, in the third year of my being here, kept a young kid, and bred her up tame, and I was in hopes of getting a he-goat:  but I could not by any means bring it to pass, till my kid grew an old goat; and as I could never find in my heart to kill her, she died at last of mere age.

But being now in the eleventh year of my residence, and, as I have said, my ammunition growing low, I set myself to study some art to trap and snare the goats, to see whether I could not catch some of them alive; and particularly, I wanted a she-goat great with young.  For this purpose, I made snares to hamper them; and I do believe they were more than once taken in them; but my tackle was not good, for I had no wire, and I always found them broken, and my bait devoured.  At length I resolved to try a pitfall:  so I dug several large pits in the earth, in places where I had observed the goats used to feed, and over those pits I placed hurdles, of my own making too, with a great weight upon them; and several times I put ears of barley and dry rice, without setting the trap; and I could easily perceive that the goats had gone in and eaten up the corn, for I could see the marks of their feet.  At length I set three traps in one night, and going the next morning, I found them all standing, and yet the bait eaten and gone; this was very discouraging.  However, I altered my traps; and, not to trouble you with particulars, going one morning to see my traps, I found in one of them a large old he-goat, and in one of the others three kids, a male and two females.

As to the old one, I knew not what to do with him; he was so fierce, I durst not go into the pit to him; that is to say, to go about to bring him away alive, which was what I wanted:  I could have killed him, but that was not my business, nor would it answer my end; so I even let him out, and he ran away, as if he had been frightened out of his wits.  But I did not then know what I afterwards learnt, that hunger will tame a lion.  If I had let him stay there three or four days without food, and then have carried him some water to drink, and then a little corn, he would have been as tame as one of the kids; for they are mighty sagacious, tractable creatures, where they are well used.

However, for the present I let him go, knowing no better at that time:  then I went to the three kids, and taking them one by one, I tied them with strings together, and with some difficulty brought them all home.

It was a good while before they would feed; but throwing them some sweet corn, it tempted them, and they began to be tame.  And now I found that if I expected to supply myself with goat’s flesh when I had no powder or shot left, breeding some up tame was my only way; when, perhaps, I might have them about my house like a flock of sheep.  But then it occurred to me, that I must keep the tame from the wild, or else they would always run wild when they grew up:  and the only way for this was, to have some enclosed piece of ground, well fenced, either with hedge or pale, to keep them in so effectually, that those within might not break out, or those without break in.