Read "Papillon" by Henri Charrière online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
With the Breton no longer at the tiller, the boat made for the island broadside. I tried to bring it around but couldn't, and with the current pushing us, we went sideways into the vegetation that hung down into the water. For all my frantic back-paddling, we struck with such force that, had we landed against rock instead of leaves and branches, we would surely have cracked up and lost everything. Maturette jumped into the water, pulled the boat under a thicket and tied her up. We shared a cup of rum and I climbed the bank alone, leaving my two friends in the boat.
I walked compass in hand, cutting back the brush and attaching strips of flour sacking to branches along the way. I saw a faint light ahead, suddenly heard voices and made out three straw huts. I moved forward, and since I didn't know how I should present myself, I decided to let them discover me. I lit a cigarette. As the light flared, a small dog came barking at me and nipped at my legs. Just so long as he isn't a leper, I thought. Then: Idiot, dogs don't get leprosy.