The author’s dangerous voyage. He arrives at New Holland, hoping to settle there. Is wounded with an arrow by one of the natives. Is seized and carried by force into a Portuguese ship. The great civilities of the captain. The author arrives at England.
I set off on this perilous voyage on February 15, 1715, at nine o'clock in the morning. The wind was initially in my favor, yet I relied on my paddles until I grew weary. Eventually, I ventured to unfurl my small sail, and with the help of the tide, I glided away from the only place I had ever called home. My master and his friends remained on the shore until I was nearly out of sight. I could still hear the sorrel nag, who had always shown me such affection, crying out in his tongue: "Take care of thyself, gentle Yahoo."
My goal was to discover an uninhabited island where I could survive through my own labor. To me, a life of total solitude was infinitely more desirable than becoming the first minister in the most sophisticated court of Europe. So deep was my detestation of the Yahoo race that I preferred the company of my own thoughts to the corruption of human society. By living alone, I hoped to reflect on the virtues of the noble Houyhnhnms without being tempted by the vices of my own kind.
Based on fragments of conversation I had overheard from my previous rebellious crew, I steered my course eastward. After some time, I spotted a small, rocky island where I sought shelter for the night. By the following morning, I reached the southeast point of New Holland. I saw no sign of inhabitants at first and, being completely unarmed, I was hesitant to venture too far inland. For three days, I lived on raw shellfish to save my provisions, finding relief in a small stream of fresh water.
On the fourth day, however, I made the mistake of wandering too far from the shore. I stumbled upon a group of about thirty naked natives—men, women, and children—gathered around a fire. As soon as I was spotted, five of them began to advance toward me. I scrambled back to my canoe and pushed off as fast as I could, but before I was out of range, an arrow pierced my left knee. The wound was deep and agonizing; I feared the tip might be poisoned, so I paddled out of reach and did my best to clean the injury.
I found myself in a desperate situation. I did not dare return to the beach, but as I searched the coast for a safer landing spot, I spotted a sail in the distance. My immediate instinct was to flee; my hatred for the Yahoo race was so strong that I would have preferred to die at the hands of the natives than be "rescued" by Europeans. I rowed back to the creek where I had started and hid behind a large stone, hoping the ship would pass me by.
The ship, however, was a Portuguese vessel that knew the area well. They sent a long-boat to the shore to collect fresh water. The sailors soon discovered my canoe and began searching the area, eventually finding me lying flat on my face behind the rock. They were astonished by my appearance—my coat of skins, my wooden shoes, and my fur stockings—but they concluded I was a European by my complexion. One of the men spoke to me in Portuguese, a language I understood well. I stood up and told them I was a poor Yahoo banished from the Houyhnhnms, begging them to let me go. They laughed at my strange tone, which they thought resembled the neighing of a horse, and were utterly confused by the words I used.
Despite my obvious hostility, the Portuguese sailors treated me with great humanity. They informed me that their captain would surely take me to Lisbon for free. When I refused to move, they were forced to tie me with ropes and carry me onto the ship. I was taken directly to the captain’s cabin, where I met Don Pedro de Mendez.
Don Pedro was an exceptionally courteous and generous man. He treated me with the utmost respect, offering me fine food and wine, yet I remained silent and sullen. The very smell of him and his crew made me feel faint. That afternoon, I even attempted to leap overboard to escape, but I was caught by a seaman and subsequently confined to my cabin. Don Pedro visited me and spoke so compassionately that I finally began to treat him like an animal that possessed at least a small spark of reason. I gave him a brief account of my five years among the Houyhnhnms. He listened as if I were describing a dream, which offended me greatly; I had quite forgotten that Yahoos are naturally prone to lying and, consequently, suspect everyone else of doing the same.
As we sailed toward Europe, I spent most of my time hidden in my cabin to avoid the sight of the crew. Don Pedro frequently offered me his best clothes, but I could not bear to wear anything that had touched the skin of a Yahoo. Eventually, I accepted two clean shirts, which I insisted on washing myself.
We arrived in Lisbon on November 5, 1715. Don Pedro took me to his home, where he kindly allowed me to stay in the most secluded room. Over time, his persistent kindness and intelligence began to wear down my defenses, and I started to tolerate his company. He eventually convinced me that it was my duty to return to my family in England. Although I argued against it, he pointed out that I could live as a recluse in my own house if I wished.
I finally gave in. Don Pedro accompanied me to an English ship and even lent me twenty pounds for my journey. On December 5, 1715, I finally reached my house in Rotherhithe. My wife and children received me with overwhelming joy, for they had long since given me up for dead. However, the sight of them filled me only with disgust and contempt. I was struck with horror when I realized that, by being a father, I had brought more Yahoos into the world.
When my wife took me in her arms and kissed me, I was so overcome by the touch of such an "odious animal" that I fainted for nearly an hour. It has now been five years since my return. For the first year, I could not even endure being in the same room as my family, and to this day, I cannot allow them to touch my food or take me by the hand. Instead, I spent my money on two young horses. I keep them in a clean stable and spend at least four hours every day conversing with them. They understand me well, and in their company, I find the only peace available to me in a world full of Yahoos.