17 April 2006, 22.51 CET
“I was under some Apprehensions during my Absence from the Land, that at least my Provisions might be devour’d on Shore; but when I came back, I found no Sign of any Visitor, only there sat a Creature like a wild Cat upon one of the Chests, which when I came towards it, ran away a little Distance, and then stood still; she sat very compos’d and unconcern’d, and look’d full in my Face, as if she had a Mind to be acquainted with me, I presented my Gun at her but as she did not understand it, she was perfectly unconcern’d at it, nor did she offer to stir away; upon which I toss’d her a Bit of Bisket, tho’ by the Way I was not very free of it, for my Store was not great: However I spar’d her a Bit, I say, and she went to it, smell’d of it, and ate it, and look’d (as pleas’d) for more, but I thank’d her, and could spare no more; so she march’d off.”
—Daniel Defoe, Robinson Crusoe. New York: Random House, 2001. pg. 50.