"Lem - Automathew's Friend" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lem Stanislaw)

"Require? Why, everything: help, rescue, clothes, means of
subsistence, there's nothing here but sand and rocks!"
"H'm! Is that a fact? You're quite sure? There are not lying about
somewhere along the beach chests from the wrecked ship, chests
filled with tools, utensils, interesting reading, garments for
different occasions, as well as gunpowder?"
Automatthew searched the length and breadth of the beach, but found
nothing, not so much as a splinter from the vessel, which apparently
had sunk all in one piece, like a stone.
"Nothing at all, you say? Most peculiar. The considerable literature
on life on desert islands proves irrefutably that a shipwrecked
person always finds at close hand axes, nails, fresh water, oil,
sacred books, saws, pliers, firearms, and a great number of other
useful items. But if not, then not. Is there at least a cave in the
rocks providing shelter?"
"No, there is no cave."
"What, no cave? Whoo, this is unusual! Would you be so good as to
climb onto the highest rock and cast an eye around?"
"I'll do it right away!" cried Automatthew, and scrambled up a steep
rock in the middle of the island, and froze: the little volcanic
island was surrounded on all sides by limitless ocean!
In a faltering voice he conveyed this news to Alfred, adjusting with
a shaky finger the cotton in his ear, so as not to lose his friend.
"How lucky I am that it didn't fall out when the ship went down," he
thought and, suddenly feeling fatigued, sat on a rock and waited
impatiently for friendly assistance.
"Now pay attention, my friend! Here is the advice I hasten to give
you in this difficult predicament!" finally came the tiny voice of
Alfred, so eagerly awaited. "On the basis of the calculations I have
made, I conclude that we find ourselves on an unknown island which
represents a kind of reef, or more precisely the summit of an
underwater mountain chain that is gradually emerging from the depths
and will join the mainland in three to four million years."
"Forget about the million years, what should I do now?!" exclaimed
Automatthew.
"The island lies far from all lanes of navigation. The chance of a
vessel accidentally appearing in the vicinity is one in four hundred
thousand."
"Good Lord!" cried the castaway, despairing. "This is terrible! What
then do you advise me to do?"
"I'll tell you in a minute, if you will just stop interrupting.
Proceed to the edge of the sea and enter the water, more or less
chest-high. In that way you will not have to bend over
unnecessarily, which would be cumbersome. Next you immerse your head
and take in as much water as you possibly can. The stuff is bitter,
I realize, but that will not last long. Particularly if at the same
time you continue marching forward. You'll soon grow heavy, and the
salt water, filling up your entrails, will in the twinkling of an
eye halt all organic processes and thereby instantly terminate your
existence. Thanks to this you will avoid the prolonged torment of