Oh! how I drank of that delicious water! I thought I should never be
satisfied; but at length satiety was produced, and I thirsted no more.
The effect was not immediate--the first long draught did not relieve me,
or only for a time. I longed again, and again placed my lips to the
spouting stream; and this I did repeatedly, until the longing returned
not, and the pangs of thirst were forgotten as if I had never felt them!
It is beyond the power of the imagination to form any idea of the agony
of thirst--mere fancy cannot realise it. It must be experienced to be
known, but a proof of its intensity might be given by adducing the
horrible alternatives to which men have resorted when reduced to the
extremity of this torturing pain. And yet, withal, as soon as the
craving is appeased, so soon as a sufficient quantity of water has
passed the lips, the pain exists no more, but ends with the suddenness
of a dream! No other bodily ill can be so quickly healed.
My thirst was now gone, and I felt buoyant; but my habitual prudence did
not forsake me. During the intervals when my lips were removed from the
vent, I had kept the water from running by pressing the end of my
fore-finger into the hole, and using it as a stopper. Something
whispered me that it would be well not to waste the precious fluid, and
I resolved to obey the suggestion. When I had finished drinking, I used
my finger as before; but after a little, I grew tired of making a
vent-peg of my finger, and looked about for something else. I groped
all over the bottom timbers, but could find nothing--not the smallest
piece of stick within reach of my right hand. It was the fore-finger of
my left that was playing vent-peg; and I dared not remove it, else the
water would have gushed forth in a tolerably thick, and therefore a
wasteful, jet.
I bethought me of a piece of cheese, and I drew what remained from my
pocket. It was of too excellent a quality for the purpose, and crumbled
as I applied it to the aperture. It was forced out of my fingers by the
strength of the spouting water. A biscuit would have been equally
unserviceable. What was I to do?
In answer to this interrogatory, it occurred to me that I might caulk
the hole with a rag from my jacket. It was fustian, and would answer
admirably.
No sooner thought of, than with my knife I cut a piece from the flap,
and placing it over the hole, and punching it well in with the blade, I
succeeded in stopping the run, though I could perceive that it yet
leaked a little. This, however, would not signify. I only intended the
piece of cloth for a temporary stopper, until I could cast around, and
contrive something better.
I was once more free to reflect, and I need not tell you that my
reflections soon guided me back to despair. To what purpose had I been
saved from death by thirst? It would only be a protraction of my
misery--a few hours more of wretched existence--for certainly I must
meet death by hunger. There was no alternative. My little stock was
almost consumed. Two biscuits, and a handful of cheese-crumbs, were all
that remained. I might make another meal upon them--a very slight one;
and then--ay, then--hunger, gnawing hunger--weakness--feebleness--
exhaustion--death!
Strange to say that while suffering from thirst, I had not thought of
dying by hunger. It would be more exact to say I had _scarce_ thought
of it. At intervals, some glimpses of such a fate had been before my
mind's eye; but, as I have already stated, the stronger agony eclipsed
the weaker, and rendered it almost uncared for.
Now, however, that all fears of the former were removed, the dread of
the latter usurped its place. The little interval of buoyant feeling
which I experienced, was merely the consequence of my unexpected relief
from a painful suffering, and only lasted until calm reflection
returned. In a few minutes it was over, and my apprehension of death
became as acute as ever. It is wrong to call it an apprehension, for it
was a positive certainty that stared me in the face. I had not given
five minutes' thought to my situation, till I felt as certain of death
as I was that I still lived. There was no hope of escape from my
prison--that I had given up long ago; and since I had nothing to eat,
and not the slightest hope of obtaining anything, how was I to live? It
required no reasoning to find an answer to the question.
Perish I must, and by hunger--there was no alternative, unless I chose
to die by my own hand. I was now aware that I possessed the means to
effect the latter, but strange to say, the madness that would have
prompted me to it, during the first throes of my despair, was gone; and
I could now contemplate death with a calmness that surprised me.
Three modes of dying were possible, and within my reach--thirst, hunger,
and suicide; and it may astonish you to know that the next thing I did
was to take into consideration which of the three it would be easiest to
endure.
This in reality was the leading idea in my mind as soon as I became
convinced that I _must_ die. You need not be astonished. Only imagine
yourselves in my situation, and you will perceive that such thoughts
were but natural.
The first of these three I rejected at once--it _could not be the
easiest_. I had almost tried it, and my experience satisfied me that
existence could scarce be ended in a less gentle way. Only upon the two
last, therefore, did my mind dwell; and for some time I sat coolly
weighing the one against the other. Unfortunately, my young days had
been passed in a manner almost heathenish; and at that time I did not
even know that taking one's own life was a crime. This consideration,
therefore, had no weight in the balance, and all I had to guide me was
the conjecture as to which of the two modes of death would be least
painful!
And I sat for a long while--coolly and calmly I sat--engaged in this
singular contemplation.
Good and evil must be instinctive. Something within told me it would be
wrong to take away the life which God had given, even though the act
might save me from protracted pain.
This thought triumphed; and, mustering all my courage, I resolved to
await the event, whatever time it might please God to put a termination
to my misery.