Part 13 (1/2)
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 s.h.i.+p'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 pa.s.sed 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 s.h.i.+p 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 circ.u.mstance 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 s.p.a.ces. Suddenly it occurred to me that it was one of the water-casks of the s.h.i.+p stowed in the lower tier. I put my ear to it, and as the s.h.i.+p 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 was.h.i.+ng 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 pa.s.sed 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 s.h.i.+p's hold. Had I been told that a week or more had pa.s.sed, 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.
CHAPTER TEN.
Dreamland--A vision of home--Strange proceedings of my brother Ned-- Roughish weather--I make a slight progress--A ray of light--The cargo--The wooden case--A disappointment--In darkness again--A welcome draught--My bed--My slumbers interrupted by ugly visitors--I determine to catch some rats--My further efforts at escape--My ill-success--My conscience troubles me, but I succeed in quieting it--My visions-- Tantalising Aunt Deb and Mr b.u.t.terfield--The conference of the rats-- Their opinion of mankind--Their grievances and proposed remedies--A sneeze and its effects.
My slumbers were far from tranquil. I think, indeed, that sometimes I must have been half awake, for I was convinced that creatures were running over me; but when I put my hand out they escaped. Then I began to dream, and I fancied I was at home again in my own room. How I got there I could not tell.
Suddenly my brother jumped out of bed, and began scrambling about the room, overturning the chairs and table, and then got behind the chest of drawers, and sent them down with a loud crash to the ground, laughing heartily as he did so. It was very unlike his mode of proceeding, as he was the quietest and best conducted member of the family. When he got tired of this sort of amus.e.m.e.nt he began pulling the bed about, and lifting it from side to side.
Naturally I expected to be tumbled out. I begged him to let me alone, as I had gone through a great deal of fatigue, and wished to be quiet.
But he would not listen to me, and only shook the bed more violently than before. Losing patience, I was going to jump up and seize him, when I awoke.
I found that the movement was real, for the s.h.i.+p was rolling and pitching more heavily than she had before done, and I could hear the bulkheads creaking, and the timbers complaining, and the heels of the mast working, and the dull sound of the water das.h.i.+ng against the sides of the s.h.i.+p. There was still less chance than ever of being heard should I again shout out, so I refrained from exhausting my strength by the exercise of my voice. So much did the stout s.h.i.+p tumble about that I could not attempt to make another exploring expedition. I therefore lay still, waiting till the s.h.i.+p would again be quiet. I didn't know then that a storm sometimes lasts for days, and that I might be starved to death before it was over. Though the bun and draught of cold water had somewhat satisfied my appet.i.te, I again began to feel hungry, though not so hungry as I might have been without them. Having nothing to eat, I went off again to sleep.
When I once more roused up I began to think of the astonishment and alarm my disappearance would cause to Aunt Deb and Mr b.u.t.terfield.
Would they have any suspicion of what had become of me? Perhaps they would fancy that I had fallen off the quay into the river; but then Aunt Deb would most likely insinuate that such was not to be my case. I confess that any anxiety she might feel didn't trouble me, but I regretted the anxiety my disappearance would cause my parents, and brothers and sisters at home. However I could not help it, so I put the thought from me. Hunger at last induced me to make another attempt to escape, in spite of the way the s.h.i.+p was tumbling about. I fancied that one of the bulkheads against which I had come was not so stout and strong as the others. I thought I would try and force my way through, but with only my hands how was that to be done.
Whilst creeping about I shoved my legs or arms into any opening I came across. In doing so I kicked against some object which moved. I worked my foot on till I came to the end of it, and then contrived to draw from under one of the casks what proved to be a handspike, which had probably on some occasion dropped down into the hold. I can't express the satisfaction the possession of this instrument gave me. I felt it all over, and tried its strength by a blow on the kelson, for at first I was afraid it might be rotten. It proved sound. Armed with it I returned to the bulkhead, against which I determined to make my attack. Standing as firmly as I could, I dealt blow after blow as high up as I was able to reach.
I suspected that had it not been for the noises which were constantly issuing from all parts of the s.h.i.+p the sound of my blows would have been heard. At last, to my joy, I felt something give way. This encouraged me to proceed. On feeling with my hands I found that I was working against a small upright door, which opened, I concluded, into another part of the hold. I redoubled my efforts, and getting in the handspike worked away till the door yielded still more. This further encouraged me to proceed, but the operation took me a long time. Occasionally no progress was made, but, like the dropping of water on a hard rock, ultimately prevailed.