Mr Butterfield's office--My future prospects--I again visit the
"Emu"--Aunt Deb's good advice--I rebel--All sailors are not beggars--
My next visit to the "Emu"--Shall I stow myself away?--Conflicting
ideas--Looking over the ship, I meet with an accident--Once more a
prisoner--The hold of the "Emu"--Not a stowaway--My possible fate--No
bones broken--"The blue above and the blue below"--Perseverance
conquers all difficulties--On the high seas--Sea-sick--On the kelson--
I give way to despair--"Help! Help!"--The yarn of Sam Switch's
ghost--I feel the pangs of hunger--I review my past life--Never say
die--Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink--My efforts meet
with some success.
Aunt Deb made her appearance at the breakfast-table, but nothing was
said about my plans for the future. As soon as I had finished, Mr
Butterfield, looking at his watch, told me to run out for a quarter of
an hour or twenty minutes, and said that when I came back he would take
me down with him to his office.
"I shall not keep you there," he remarked; "you will afterwards come
back to your aunt, who will probably find something for you to do."
I obeyed, and as soon as I got out of the house I ran off in the
direction of the country. I wanted to see green fields and hedges and
trees. I enjoyed the fresh air and exercise, and was longer away than I
intended. On my return I found Mr Butterfield waiting for me at the
door.
"Punctuality is the soul of business. Remember that," he remarked.
"You have kept me waiting for ten minutes. Come along."
I begged pardon, saying that the time had passed faster than I had
expected.
He walked along with sedate steps, for he was not given to rapid
locomotion, his gold-headed cane heavily striking the ground as he went.
He had not spoken since we left the house, and I felt that I was
passing from the position of a guest to that of a junior clerk. Still,
not being overwhelmed with bashfulness at any time, and as I was anxious
to know what had passed between him and Aunt Deb regarding my future
career, I looked up and asked him.
"Your aunt will communicate her wishes to you," he answered. "You will
see presently the sort of work you will be expected to perform in my
office. Let me tell you that many lads would consider themselves
fortunate if they had the opportunity I am ready to give you."
He said no more. His manner, it struck me, was far less cordial than it
had been, and I could not help thinking that I was indebted for this to
Aunt Deb, who had probably given him an account of my adventures at
home. Now I am bound to say that I consider Mr Butterfield was right;
but I did not think so at the time.
We at length reached Water Street, and entered the office of Tallow,
Candlemas, and Co. It was a dingy-looking place, consisting of a small
outer room, the walls covered over with posters announcing the sailing
of ships and other information. In it was an enclosed space, behind
which sat on high stools two venerable-looking clerks, busily engaged in
writing. Speaking a few words to them, Mr Butterfield passed on to an
inner room, where, at a long desk running from one side to the other
were arranged eight or ten persons of various ages, all scribbling away
as fast as their pens could move. Their thin and pallid faces did not
prepossess me in favour of the life they were leading. At the farther
end, in a darker corner, was a vacant stool.
"That will be your place, Richard, when you come here to-morrow or next
day," said Mr Butterfield. "You will gradually rise, till one day I
may hope to see you one of my head clerks."
I looked askance at the dark corner, and I then scanned the faces of the
occupants of the other seats. I could say nothing likely to please Mr
Butterfield, and I therefore kept silence.
"You will begin work on Monday. Now go back to your aunt, who wishes to
have you with her for the present."
I longed to say, "I thought, sir, you were going to talk to my aunt
about my going to sea;" but before I could speak, Mr Butterfield,
turning round, walked into his private office and left me standing by
myself and looking, I felt, very foolish. As I did not wish to undergo
a long inspection from the younger clerks, who were peering at me from
over the desks, I passed out, breathing more freely when I found myself
in the open street.
Of course I ought to have returned home; but instead of that I made my
way down to the docks to amuse myself as before, by looking at the
vessels. I was not long in finding out the "Emu." She was now
considerably lower in the water, having apparently got most of her cargo
on board, although there were still some bales and packages lying
alongside ready to be shipped. I had a great longing to go on board and
try to see the captain, and to ask him if he would take me. I could see
no one, however, whom I could imagine to be the captain; and I
therefore, after walking up and down the quay for some time, and looking
at a number of other vessels, guessed by my hunger that it must be near
luncheon-time, and took my way homewards. On entering the house I met
Aunt Deb, who was coming down into the dining-room, by which I knew that
I was not late.
"I am glad to find that you are more punctual than usual, Dick," she
said. "You will soon, I hope, become regular in your habits. Follow
the example of so excellent a man as my cousin, Godfrey Butterfield.
You are pleased with your excellent prospects in his office, I hope?"
To this remark I made no reply, but said, "I thought, Aunt Deb, that Mr
Butterfield was going to speak to you about my wish to go to sea. He
told me that he would do so, and that he would have no difficulty in
getting me on board a ship."
"Fiddle-de-dee about going to sea!" replied Aunt Deb. "My cousin did
speak to me on the subject, and I told him at once that I would never
consent to your doing so, and that I felt sure your father would not do
so either. What! To throw away the brilliant prospects which through
my means have been opened out to you? What! Desert your family and me,
your affectionate aunt, and the kind friend who so generously consents
to become your patron from the regard he has for me? What! Go and run
all the risks of a turbulent ocean, and perhaps lose your life, and
cause sorrow to those who have an affection for you, merely to gratify
an insane fancy? No, Dick--no! I told my cousin Godfrey Butterfield,
at once, that if he had any regard for me he would never encourage you
in so mad a proceeding; and I begged him, as soon as possible, to give
you employment in his office, so as to turn your mind away from the
silly ideas you have entertained."
"I'm not at all obliged to you, Aunt Deb, for what you have done," I
said, my choler rising. "It was no idle fancy in my mind, but my fixed
resolution to become a sailor; and a sailor I'll be, notwithstanding
your opposition."
"Hoity-toity!" exclaimed Aunt Deb, who was not accustomed to be set at
defiance. "You will understand, Dick, that you were placed in my
charge, and must obey my directions; and that I intend you to go into
Mr Butterfield's office, and to work hard there, so that you may do
credit to my recommendation some day, and render support to your family.
In case of your father's death, what would become of you all? I, who
have devoted my life to your family, should have the charge of their
maintenance."
"Sailors are not beggars, and I should very likely make as much money by
going to sea as by any other means."
"Fiddle-de-dee," again exclaimed Aunt Deb; "eat your luncheon, and don't
talk nonsense."
As I was very hungry, I obeyed her, but at first I felt as if the food I
put in my mouth would choke me. Ultimately, however, I was able to get
on as well as usual. Aunt Deb's behaviour to me during the next few
days did not contribute to reconcile me to my proposed lot. She kept me
working at writing and adding up long columns of figures, not failing to
scold me when I made mistakes. I pictured to myself my future dreary
life--to have to sit in a dull office all day, and then to have to come
home with no other society than that of Mr Butterfield and Aunt Deb as
long as she remained at Liverpool. I knew nobody at Liverpool, and did
not see how I was to form any acquaintances of my own. After luncheon,
on Saturday, Aunt Deb, in consideration, she said, of my diligence,
allowed me to go and take a walk by myself, as she felt indisposed to
leave the house. I very naturally wandered down to the docks to have a
look at the "Emu" before she sailed, and to inspect any other vessels
that might take my fancy. I much missed my cutter yacht, as I found
there existed places where I could have sailed her. I had spent some
time in walking about, when I again got back to the quay where the "Emu"
was moored. As I was pacing to and fro, I thought of the high stool in
the dark corner of Mr Butterfield's office; the dreary, dreary days I
was doomed to sit there; the dull, dull evenings in the society of Aunt
Deb and her cousin, and the not more lively Sundays, with attendances at
three services, for Aunt Deb was very strict in this respect. Hapless
fate, with nothing better to expect than a head clerkship. The business
I knew I should detest. Then I thought of the free life on the ocean,
the strange lands I should visit, the curious people I should see, and
the liberty I fancied I should enjoy.
As I had had a fair education, and knew that I could master navigation,
I expected without difficulty to work my way up till I became an
officer, and then to have the command of such a fine ship myself, just
such a one as the "Emu." But how was I to get to sea? Mr Butterfield
positively refused to obtain an appointment for me without the consent
of Aunt Deb and that of my father, and I was confident such would not be
given. Would the captain take me without further introduction, if I
should offer myself? I had sense enough to know that that was very
unlikely.
Suddenly the idea seized me, should I stow myself away on board, and not
appear until the ship had sailed out to sea? I had a notion,
notwithstanding, that this would not be a wise proceeding. I should
certainly not be treated as an officer, and should very probably be sent
forward to become a drudge to the crew. Still, what other chance had I
to get to sea? I thought and thought.
Well, I'll go on board at all events. The blue Peter was flying at the
masthead, besides which there was a board announcing that she would sail
with the morning's tide. It was the custom, in those days especially,
for merchantmen to sail on a Sunday. The stages leading on board had
been removed, with the exception of a single plank to the gangway. My
longing to go on board increasing, I indulged it. None of the crew were
moving about aft. The officers, if any were on board, were, I supposed,
in their cabins. I looked forward, where I saw a few of the crew, who
were preparing for their supper. The cook just then made his appearance
from the caboose with a large bowl containing a smoking mess of some
sort. I had never been below on board ship. I thought I should like to
look round and see what sort of place the hold was. The tackle which
had been used for lowering the cargo was not yet unrove, and hung over
the main hatchway, which had been left open for stowing some goods
which, as it turned out, had not yet arrived. Seeing that no one was
observing me, I seized the rope, and swung myself down till my head
disappeared below the coamings of the hatchway.
Now at this place space had been left to permit of the lower hold being
reached. The rope I grasped was not as long as I thought it was, and
suddenly the end slipped through my fingers, and down I fell, hurting
myself so much that I was unable to rise. Afraid of calling out for
assistance, I lay there for some time, till the pain increased so much
that I fainted away. When I came to my senses, what was my horror to
find myself in total darkness, and on lifting up my hand as high as I
could reach I discovered that some planks had been placed across the
aperture through which I had fallen, and I was shut in. Though I had
been doubtful about acting the stowaway, here I was, shut up against my
will. Had I carried out the idea which occurred to me, I intended to
have done it in a very different fashion, as I expected to find some
comfortable place where I might obtain air, if not light and access to
the store-room and water-casks. I had no notion of running the risk of
starving myself, having had sufficient experience of the uncomfortable
sensations accompanying inanition when I was shut up in the mill. I had
thought myself very badly off then, but I was now in a much worse
condition, and suffering great pain, and, as far as it appeared to me,
with more than one limb broken. I tried to move, to ascertain whether
this was the case. First I moved one arm, and then another. They were
sound, though they hurt me. Then I tried my right leg, and then my
left. They were certainly unfractured.
I was doubtful about one of my ankles. It pained me more than any other
part of my body. I drew it up and felt it all over. It was tender to
the touch, but none of the bones appeared to be out of their places.
This examination occupied some time. I did not call out for fear of the
consequences. The pain which had hitherto prevented me thinking about
what would follow now decreased, and I began to consider the awkward
position in which I was placed. I tried to persuade myself that I had
not positively intended to act the part of a stowaway. I could not but
know that I had thought about it, yet I had only gone below for the sake
of seeing the hold of a ship. I could say that when I was discovered,
with a tolerably clear conscience, so I fancied. Should I be
discovered? That was the question. For what I could tell I might be
entombed beneath the cargo and be unable to get out till I was starved
to death. The thought was too dreadful for contemplation, and I tried
to put it from me. I remembered how I had escaped from the old mill and
the way I got out without any one to help me.
"Perseverance conquers all difficulties," I said to myself as I said
then. My situation in some respects was very similar, only on that
occasion I had expected, on obtaining my freedom, to meet my friends,
and now I should find myself confronted by a rough crew and an irate
captain, who might send me on shore, and, for what I could tell, have me
put into jail if there was time for doing so. I had, at first, no idea
of the size of the place in which I was shut up. I only knew that I
could touch the boards above my head by extending my hand when sitting
upright. I thereby knew that there would not be room for me to stand.
I now crawled about and ascertained that I was in a tolerably wide
place, extending fore and aft and from side to side. I was, in fact, in
the lower hold or bottom of the ship, far, far down beneath a mass of
cargo. How long I had been there was also a mystery to me. I might
have remained in a fainting state only for a few minutes, or hours might
have passed. I knew that I began to feel hungry, though I had had an
ample luncheon--for on Saturdays Mr Butterfield dined early--which
showed that I could not be very much hurt, and that I must have been
some considerable time on board. I had, however, as I intended to stay
out till dark, put a couple of buns, which I had bought at a
pastrycook's, into my pocket. I refrained, as yet, from eating them,
not knowing how long I might have to remain below. I thought that it
must now be night, and as I supposed the crew would be asleep forwards
and the captain and officers aft, they would not hear me, even if I
shouted out at the top of my voice. I therefore concluded that it would
be foolish to exhaust myself uselessly. "I'll wait for daylight, when
they're moving about, and I shall have a better chance of making myself
heard," I thought.
The place where I lay was dry and clean, though it smelt horribly of tar
and other odours from which the hold of a vessel is seldom free, and was
besides disagreeably close. After a considerable period had elapsed,
and when the pain had much gone off, a drowsiness stole over me, and
having got into a comfortable position, I fell fast asleep. I think I
must have awoke at intervals, for I remember hearing a curious rippling
sound beneath me. It must have had a lulling effect, for I dropped off
again.
The next time I woke I heard not only a rippling sound, but a dashing of
water against the sides, and presently the ship began to pitch slowly
and gently. The idea at once occurred to me that I must be at sea. If
so, it was where I had long wished to be, though the circumstances
accompanying my entrance into a naval life differed greatly from such as
I had intended them to be. Could it then be daylight?--if so, I had
been much longer below than I had calculated on. The ship, I
remembered, was to sail with the morning tide. That might have meant
one or two o'clock, for how the tides ran I didn't know. There must
have been time, at all events, for her to get away from the wharf, and
to descend the Mersey. In that case the day must now be well advanced.
Probably, I thought, the ship has had a fair wind, and with a favourable
tide must have got rapidly along. I could not sing:--
"I'm on the sea, I'm on the sea,
I am where I would ever be;
With the blue above, and the blue below,
In silence wheresoe'er I go."
Silence there certainly was, but instead of the blue above and the blue
below, there was pitchy darkness. The long sleep and the perfect rest
had taken away all the pain which I had at first felt, except an
uncomfortable sensation in one of my ankles.
When I was fairly aroused I again began to feel very hungry, so I ate
one of my buns. I could have bolted the other, but I was becoming
wonderfully prudent, and I knew that if I did so I might have nothing
else to eat. All this time I had remained perfectly silent, for the
reasons I have before given. I had become accustomed to the atmosphere,
and I suppose that some fresh air must have come through some unseen
apertures which enabled me to breathe without difficulty. It was
sufficiently close, however, to make me feel drowsy, and having eaten
the bun, I again dropped off to sleep.
I awoke with a horrible nausea, such as I had never before experienced.
The sensations I experienced in the old vault were nothing to it. The
air there, as I mentioned, was perfectly pure, besides which I was then
upon solid ground; now I felt an unpleasant movement, sometimes a sort
of plunging forward, then a rise and fall, and then a rolling from side
to side, though being close to the keel I didn't experience this so much
as if I had been on deck. It was quite sufficient, however, to make me
feel terribly sick.
Oh how wretched I was! Didn't I repent of having gone down into the
hold. I would ten thousand times sooner have been perched on the
highest stool in the darkest corner of Mr Butterfield's counting-house
than have been where I was. I was too miserable to cry out. I only
wished that the ship would strike a rock and go down, and thus terminate
my misery.
I need not describe what happened. For hours I was prostrate; but at
length the feeling of sickness wore off, and I again became not only
hungry but thirsty in the extreme. I would have given anything for a
draught of water; but how was I to obtain it. One thing I felt was,
that if I could not I should die. Though I was hungry I could not
masticate the smallest portion of my bun, but I tried to arouse myself
and began once more to move about. As I did so my hand came in contact
with what appeared to be a large cask. I felt it all over. Yes, I was
certain of it. It must be one of the ship's water-casks stowed in the
lower tier.
I thought I might possibly find some outlet through which I might make
my way into the upper part of the ship, but none could I discover. I
was, in reality, right down on the kelson, though I didn't know what it
was called at the time. It is just above the keel, the object of it
being to strengthen the vessel lengthways, and to confine the floors in
their proper position. It is placed above the cross-pieces and
half-floors, and a bolt is driven right through all into the main keel.
The half-floors, it must be understood, are not united in the centre,
but longitudinally on either side.
Of course I was not aware of this at the time. All that I knew was,
that I was down in the bottom of the ship in a horrible dark confined
space, where I should be starved to death or suffocated could I not find
some way out. Again and again I made the attempt, but in every
direction met with obstructions. Stretching out my arms, I found I
could touch each side of my prison.
Resolute as I had hitherto been, I at length gave way to despair, and
shrieked and shouted for help. I bawled till my voice was hoarse and my
strength exhausted; then I sat down in a state of apathy, resigned to my
fate. But the love of life soon returned. I got up and crawled to the
further end of my prison-house, where I met with some stout boarding
which effectually prevented my further progress. After this I turned
round and crawled to the other end along the kelson, but was stopped by
a strong bulkhead.
Once more I stopped to listen, half expecting to hear the sailors making
their way down to the hold to ascertain whence my shouts and cries
proceeded, but no sound except the creaking of the bulkheads reached my
ears. "I won't give in yet," I said to myself; "perhaps the crew are on
deck or in the fore part of the ship, and the officers in their cabins,
and my voice could not reach them; but somebody must, before long, be
coming into the hold, and then, if I shout at the top of my voice, I
cannot fail to be heard."
The question, however, was, when would any one come down? I had no
means of ascertaining, though the steward must be getting up provisions,
or the boatswain or carpenter stores from their store-room, and yet no
sound might reach me, or perhaps my voice might not penetrate as far as
where they were at work. Still, there was nothing like trying. Placing
my hands to my sides, I shouted out, "Help, help! I'm shut up below. I
shall die if you don't let me out. Oh, do come, sailors. Don't you
hear me? Help! Help! Help!"
Then I gave way to a loud roar of agony and despair. After this I
stopped for a few minutes listening as before, then putting my hands to
my mouth, as if by so doing I should increase the loudness of my voice,
I shouted with all the strength of my lungs. Suddenly the idea occurred
to me that the sailors would hear my voice, but not knowing whence it
proceeded would fancy the ship was haunted and would be in a dreadful
fright. Strange as it may seem the thought amused me, and I gave way to
an hysterical laugh. "Now I'll warrant not one of them will like to
come below on account of the supposed ghost. They will be spinning all
sorts of yarns to each other about hobgoblins appearing on board." Old
Riddle had spun several such yarns, and they came to my recollection.
One was about a boy named Sam Smitch. Sam was the dirtiest fellow on
board, and could never understand what cleanliness meant. He was
constantly, therefore, being punished. That didn't mend his ways, and
he was a nuisance to all the crew, who, of course, gave him a frequent
taste of the rope's-end and bullied him in all sorts of ways. At last
Sam declared that he would jump overboard and end his misery. The men
laughed at him, and said that he hadn't the courage to do it.
"Haven't I?" said Sam, "you'll see that I'll do it, and my blood will be
upon your heads."
Still none would believe that Sam would do away with himself, till one
morning his jacket and hat were found in the head, and when the ship's
company was mustered at divisions, Sam didn't answer to his name. He
was searched for everywhere, but could not be discovered, and at length
it became very evident to all that Sam must have put his threat into
execution and thrown himself overboard during the night. Whether any of
the men recollected that it was their cruelty that had driven him to
this act of desperation I can't say, but probably it didn't much trouble
their consciences; they only considered he was a fool for his pains.
Two or three days passed away, when Sam Smitch was well-nigh forgotten.
One night, however, one of the carpenter's crew was going along the
lower-deck, when he saw a figure in white gliding past him in the
distance. The figure for a moment turned its head, when, as the light
of the lantern fell on it, he recognised the face of Sam Smitch. It was
more than his nerves could stand, and he bolted like a shot up the
ladder. Night after night some one of the crew had a similar occurrence
to relate, till one and all were convinced that the ship was haunted by
Sam Smitch's ghost. At last the men, gallant fellows as they were, were
afraid to go below even when sent on duty. Many of them swore that even
when in their hammocks they had seen Sam Smitch's ghost gliding
noiselessly about the deck. The whole crew were in a very nervous
state, and many were actually placed on the sick list by the doctor. At
last the circumstance reached the ear of the purser, who happened not to
be a believer in ghosts.
"Whew!" he exclaimed, when he heard it; "that accounts for the
mysterious disappearance of some of my stores."
He informed the first lieutenant, who placed a watch in the
neighbourhood where the ghost had appeared. The next night, in bodily
form, the ghost of Sam Smitch was captured, dirtier than ever, but yet
fat and sleek, though rather pallid. Not, however, till he was brought
on deck, to be well scrubbed under the superintendence of the master at
arms, were the crew convinced that the ghost was no ghost at all, but
that dirty Sam, fool as he was, had been bamboozling them effectually,
while he enjoyed his ease and plenty to eat below with nothing to do.
It is curious that this yarn should have occurred to me, but I suppose
it did so from my case being somewhat similar to that of Sam Smitch,
only he had voluntarily stowed himself away and had plenty to eat, while
I was shut up against my will without a particle of food, except the
buns I had in my pockets. It served also to draw me for a few minutes
from the thoughts of my own misfortunes. The exertion of shouting
increased the thirst I had already begun to feel. I was at the same
time very hungry, but when I again tried to eat a piece of my remaining
bun I could not get down the mouthful. I became rapidly more and more
thirsty. The sea-sickness had worn off, but I felt more thoroughly
uncomfortable in my inside than I had ever before done in my life. If
any of my readers have at any time suffered from thirst, they will
understand my sensations better than I can describe them. My mouth and
throat felt like a dust-bin, and my tongue like the end of a burnt
stick. I moved my mouth about in every possible way to try and produce
some saliva, but so dry were my lips that they only cracked in the
attempt.
I had scarcely hitherto believed that I should die, but now so terrible
were my sensations that I didn't expect to live many hours unless I
should be released. I thought over my past life. The numberless wrong
and foolish things I had done came back to my recollection, while not a
single good deed of any sort occurred to me. I thought of how often I
had vexed my father and mother, how impudent I had been to Aunt Deb, how
frequently unkind and disagreeable to my brothers and sisters. I tried
to be very sorry for everything, but all the time I was conscious that I
was not as sorry as I ought to have been.
Exhausted by my efforts as well as by my hunger and thirst, I lay
stretched upon the kelson till I had, I suppose, somewhat recovered.
Once more I said to myself, "It will not do to give in; out of this I
must get." I managed again to get on my feet, feeling about in all
directions. As I was doing so my hands touched what appeared to me like
the side of a large cask. I was certain of it. I could make out the
hoops which went round the cask, and the intervening spaces. Suddenly
it occurred to me that it was one of the water-casks of the ship stowed
in the lower tier. I put my ear to it, and as the ship rolled I could
hear the water move about. I felt, however, very much like the fellow I
had read about at school, who was placed when dying of thirst in the
midst of water which remained up to his chin, but into which he could
never get his mouth. Here was the water, but how I was to reach it was
the question.
I felt about in the hope that some moisture might be coming through;
even a few drops would help to cool my parched tongue, though I could
have drunk a gallon without stopping, but the cask was strong and
perfectly dry outside. I considered whether it would be possible to
knock a hole in the cask, but I had no instrument for the purpose, and
should not have had strength to use it even if I had found it. It was
indeed tantalising to hear the water washing to and fro, and yet not be
able to obtain a drop. By chance I happened to put my hands in my
pockets, which always contained a knife, bits of string, and all sorts
of things. Suddenly I recollected that I had been making a stand for my
cutter before she was stolen, and that I had had a gimlet to bore holes
in the wood. To my joy I found that I had fixed a cork on the end of it
and had thrust it into my pocket. There it was. I might, by boring a
hole in the cask, reach the water. How anxiously I clutched the gimlet.
How fearful I was that in attempting to bore a hole I might break it.
Feeling as far as I could judge for the centre of the cask, I began
boring a hole, using the greatest care. At length the gimlet went right
through. As I drew it forth I put it to my mouth. It was wet. How
deliciously cool it felt. I then applied my mouth to the hole, but
bitter was my disappointment when no water came out. I sucked and
sucked at the hole, and then I blew into it, but with no satisfactory
result.
I was again almost driven to despair. I tried the hole with the gimlet.
It passed through it, and the iron was again wet. "What a fool!" I
exclaimed, just then recollecting that to get liquor out of a cask two
holes are necessary, the one to serve as a vent-hole to let in the air
and the other to let out the liquid. I accordingly set to work and
began boring a hole as high as I could reach above the former one. I
soon accomplished my task, and as the air rushed in the water from the
lower hole rushed out. I eagerly applied my mouth to it and sucked and
sucked away until I was almost choked. Still I didn't feel as if I had
had enough.
How delicious was the sensation as it wetted my lips, moistened my
mouth, and flowed down my parched throat. I felt very much like a
pitcher being filled at a fountain. The hole was small, so that only a
thin stream came out. It was fortunate for me that it was no larger, or
I believe that I should have killed myself by over-drinking. Not until
I had withdrawn my mouth did I recollect that I must find some means of
stopping the flow of water. Feeling in my pocket, I found some pieces
of wood, one of which I thought I could form into a plug. In doing so I
nearly cut my fingers.
After a time I succeeded, and shutting up my knife, I knocked the plug I
had made in with the handle. The vent-hole was not so important to
stop, so I let it alone. I was now able to eat my remaining bun, though
I recollected that it was the last article of food I possessed. I
afterwards took another pull at the water-cask. I had no longer any
fear of suffering from thirst, which was some comfort, but I had serious
apprehensions about the means of obtaining food, should I fail to make
my escape from my prison. I was, however, wonderfully hopeful. I
remembered how I had fed myself on the musty flour in the old mill. I
kept up my spirits, in the hopes of finding something to eat among the
cargo. I was aware that few edibles were exported from England, our
teeming population consuming the whole produce of the country, and as
much more as they can get.
I could not tell all this time whether it was night or day, as I had no
means of calculating how long I had been in the ship's hold. Had I been
told that a week or more had passed, I should not have been surprised,
the time appeared to me so long. I now began to feel excessively
sleepy, and creeping about until I discovered where the planks, if not
soft, were less rough than in other parts, I lay down, and in a few
seconds was fast asleep.