He was not one of
those who with the least difficulty plunge into unnecessary
discouragement and lose their capacity for action. It was not in his
nature to waste his time and opportunities and energies worrying about
what might happen, but what in the end rarely did happen. He conserved
his mental and physical powers, and turned his mind and muscles into
vigorous and practical action. And like every fortunate possessor of
this valuable faculty, Bobby more often than not raised success out of
failure.
And so it came to pass that when Bobby found himself cast away upon the
naked rocks of a small and treeless sub-Arctic island, with no shelter
from the awful cold of a driving blizzard, and with no other tools than
his hands, he did not give up and say, "This is the end," and then sit
down to wait for the pitiless cold to end his sufferings. What he did
say was:
"Well, here I am in another mess, and I've got to find some way out of
it."
He examined the skiff carefully and the examination satisfied him that
it was too badly injured to be repaired with the means at his command,
and so with all his energy he set himself at once to making himself as
comfortable as the conditions and the surroundings would permit.
First he scoured the island for wood, for he knew that presently the
storm and blizzard would rise to such proportions as to render any
efforts to find wood impossible, and any attempt to move about perilous,
and therefore no time must be lost.
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