Before proceeding to use the knife, I had endeavoured to burst one of
the boards outward, first by pressing upon it with my hands. Finding I
could not move it in this way, I lay down upon my back, and tried it
with my heels. I even put on my old buskins in hopes of being able to
_kick_ it out; but, after thumping at it for a considerable time, I saw
it would not do. It was too securely nailed, and, as I found out
afterwards, it was still more strongly secured with strips of iron
hooping, which would have resisted a stronger effort than any I could
make. My kicks and thumps, therefore, were all given to no purpose; and
as soon as I became convinced of this, I went to work with my knife.
I designed cutting across one of the boards near the end--and only at
one end, as I could then force the piece out, no matter how securely it
might be clasped at the other.
The timber was not very hard, being only common spruce deal, and I could
soon have made a cross-cut of the whole piece, even with no better tool
than my knife, if I had been in a proper attitude, with the box fairly
before me. But instead of that, I was obliged to operate in a
constrained position, that was both disadvantageous and fatiguing.
Moreover, my hand was still painful from the bite of the rat, the scar
not yet being closed up. The troubles I had been enduring had kept my
blood in a constant fever, and this I suppose, had prevented the healing
of the wound. Unfortunately, it was my right hand that had been bitten;
and, being right-handed, I could not manage the knife with my left. I
tried it at times, to relieve the other, but could make little progress
at left-hand work.
For these reasons, then, I was several hours in cutting across a piece
of nine-inch deal of only an inch in thickness; but I got through at
last, and then, placing myself once more on my back, and setting my
heels to the plank, I had the satisfaction to feel it yielding.
It did not move a great way, and I could perceive that there was
something hindering it behind--either another box or a barrel--but this
was exactly what I had expected. Only two or three inches of empty
space were between the two, and it required a good deal of kicking, and
twisting backward and forward, and upward and downward, before I could
detach the piece from its fastenings of iron.
Before I had got it quite out of my way, I knew what was behind, for I
had passed my fingers through to ascertain. It was another
packing-case, and, alas! too similar to the one I was crouching in. The
same kind of timber, if my touch was true--and this one of my senses had
of late become wonderfully acute.
I felt its outline, as much of it as I could reach: the same size it
appeared to be--the same rough, unplaned plank, just like that I had
been cutting at--and both, as I now perceived, iron hooped at the ends.
Beyond doubt, it was "another of the same."
I came to this conclusion without proceeding further, and it was a
conclusion that filled me with chagrin and disappointment. But although
I felt too bitterly satisfied that it was another cloth-box, I deemed it
worth while to put the matter beyond any doubt. To effect this, I
proceeded to take out one of the pieces of the second box, just as I had
done with the other--by making a clear cut across--and then prising it
out, and drawing it towards me. It cost me even more labour than the
first, for I could not get at it so well; besides, I had to widen the
aperture in the other, before I could reach the joining between two
pieces. The widening was not so difficult, as the soft plank split off
readily under the blade of my knife.
I worked cheerlessly at this second box, as I worked without hope. I
might have spared myself the pains; for during the operation the blade
of my knife frequently came in contact with what was inside, and I knew
from the soft dull object which resisted the steel with elastic silence,
that I was coming upon _cloth_. I might have spared myself any further
labour, but a kind of involuntary curiosity influenced me to go on--that
curiosity which refuses to be satisfied until demonstration is complete
and certain; and, thus impelled, I hewed away mechanically, till I had
reached the completion of the task.
The result was as I had expected--the contents were cloth!
The knife dropped from my grasp; and, overcome, as much by fatigue as by
the faintness produced by disappointment, I fell backward, and lay for
some minutes in a state of partial insensibility.
This lethargy of despair continued upon me for some time--I noted not
how long; but I was at length aroused from it by an acute pain, which I
felt in the tip of my middle finger. It was sudden as acute, and
resembled the pricking of a needle, or a sharp cut with the blade of a
knife.
I started suddenly up, thinking I had caught hold of my knife--while
half conscious of what I was doing--for I remembered that I had thrown
it with open blade beside me.
In a second or two, however, I was convinced that it was not that which
had caused me the pain. It was not a wound made with cold steel, but
with the venomous tooth of a living creature. I had been bitten by a
rat!
My lethargic indifference to my situation soon passed away, and was
succeeded by a keen sense of fear. I was now convinced, more than ever,
that my life was in danger from these hideous animals; for this was the
first actual attempt they had made upon my person _without provocation_.
Although my sudden movement, and the loud cries I involuntarily
uttered, had once more driven them off, I felt satisfied they would
become bolder anon, and take no heed of such idle demonstrations. I had
threatened them too often, without making them feel my power to punish
them.
Clearly it would not do to go to sleep again, with my person exposed to
their attacks; for although my hopes of ultimate deliverance were now
sadly diminished, and in all likelihood starvation was to be my fate,
still this kind of death was preferable to being eaten up by rats. The
very thought of such a fate filled me with horror, and determined me to
do all in my power to save myself from so fearful a doom.
I was now very tired, and required rest. The box was large enough for
me to have slept within it, stretched at full length; but I thought I
could more easily defend myself against the encroachments of the rats in
my old quarters; and, taking up my knife and bundle, I crawled back
behind the butt.
My little chamber was now of much smaller dimensions, for in it I had
stowed the cloth taken from the box. In fact, there was just room
enough for my body and the bag of crumbs--so that it was more like a
nest than an apartment.
With the pieces of cloth piled in one end against the brandy-cask, I was
well defended in that quarter, and it only remained to close up the
other end as I had done before. This I accomplished; and then, after
eating my slender supper, and washing it down with copious libations, I
sought the repose, both of body and mind, of which I stood in such need.