One day, after fifteen years alone, I went down to the beach. There in the sand I saw a footprint. It was the print of a man's bare foot. I stood very still. I looked and listened, but I saw nobody and heard nothing. I ran home to my house like a frightened animal, and I did not sleep that night. For two years I lived in fear. Then, on the other side of the island, I found bones on the sand, and the remains of a fire. Cannibals came here in their canoes, I understood. They brought their prisoners and ate them on my beach. I was sick with horror. After that I kept my guns ready, and I did not make a fire where people could see the smoke.