Page 19 of Foul Play


  CHAPTER XIX.

  WE return to the cutter and her living freight.

  After an anxious but brief consultation, it was agreed that their bestchance was to traverse as many miles of water as possible while the windwas fair; by this means they would increase their small chance of beingpicked up, and also of falling in with land, and would, at all events,sail into a lovely climate, where intense cold was unknown and gales ofwind uncommon. Mr. Hazel advised them to choose a skipper, and give himabsolute power, especially over the provisions. They assented to this. Hethen recommended Cooper for that post. But they had not fathomed thesterling virtues of that taciturn seaman; so they offered the command toWelch, instead.

  "Me put myself over Sam Cooper!" said he; "not likely."

  Then their choice fell upon Michael Morgan. The other sailors' names werePrince, Fenner and Mackintosh.

  Mr. Hazel urged Morgan to put the crew and passengers on short allowanceat once, viz., two biscuits a day, and four tablespoonfuls of water. ButMorgan was a common sailor; he could not see clearly very far ahead; and,moreover, his own appetite counteracted this advice; he dealt out a poundof biscuit and an ounce of ham to each person, night and morning, and apint of water in course of the day.

  Mr. Hazel declined his share of the ham, and begged Miss Rolleston soearnestly not to touch it, that she yielded a silent compliance.

  On the fourth day the sailors were all in good spirits, though theprovisions were now very low. They even sang and spun yarns. This waspartly owing to the beauty of the weather.

  On the fifth day Morgan announced that he could only serve out onebiscuit per day. And this sudden decline caused some dissatisfaction andalarm.

  Next day the water ran so low that only a teaspoonful was served outnight and morning.

  There were murmurs and forebodings.

  In all heavy trials and extremities some man or other reveals greatqualities, that were latent in him, ay, hidden from himself. And thisgeneral observation was verified on the present occasion, as it had beenin the Indian mutiny and many other crises. Hazel came out.

  He encouraged the men out of his multifarious stores of learning. Herelated at length stories of wrecks and sufferings at sea; which, thoughthey had long been in print, were most of them new to these poor fellows.He told them, among the rest, what the men of the _Bona Dea,_ waterloggedat sea, had suffered--twelve days without any food but a rat and akitten--yet had all survived. He gave them some details of the _Wager,_the _Grosvenor,_ the _Corbin,_ the _Medusa;_ but, above all, a mostminute account of the _Bounty,_ and Bligh's wonderful voyage in an openboat, short of provisions. He moralized on this, And showed hisfellow-sufferers it was discipline and self-denial from the first thathad enabled those hungry specters to survive, and to traverse twothousand eight hundred miles of water, in those very seas; and that inspite of hunger, thirst, disease and rough weather.

  By these means he diverted their minds in some degree from their owncalamity, and taught them the lesson they most needed.

  The poor fellows listened with more interest than you could have thoughtpossible under the pressure of bodily distress. And Helen Rolleston'shazel eye dwelled on the narrator with unceasing wonder.

  Yes, learning and fortitude, strengthened by those great exampleslearning furnishes, maintained a superiority, even in the middle of thePacific; and not the rough sailors only, but the lady who had rejectedand scorned his love, hung upon the brave student's words. She wascompelled to look up with wonder to the man she had hated and despised inher hours of ease.

  On the sixth day the provisions failed entirely. Not a crust of bread;not a drop of water.

  At 4 P. M. several flying-fish, driven into the air by the dolphins andcatfish, fell into the sea again near the boat, and one struck the sailsharply, and fell into the boat. It was divided, and devoured raw, in amoment.

  The next morning the wind fell, and, by noon, the ocean became likeglass.

  The horrors of a storm have been often painted; but who has described, orcan describe, the horrors of a calm, to a boatload of hungry, thirstycreatures, whose only chances of salvation or relief are wind and rain?

  The beautiful, remorseless sky was one vault of purple, with a greatflaming jewel in the center, whose vertical rays struck, and parched, andscorched the living sufferers; and blistered and baked the boat itself,so that it hurt their hot hands to touch it. The beautiful, remorselessocean was one sheet of glass, that glared in their bloodshot eyes, andreflected the intolerable heat of heaven upon these poor wretches, whowere gnawed to death with hunger; and their raging thirst was fiercerstill.

  Toward afternoon of the eighth day, Mackintosh dipped a vessel in thesea, with the manifest intention of drinking the salt water.

  "Stop him!" cried Hazel, in great agitation; and the others seized himand overpowered him. He cursed them with such horrible curses that MissRolleston put her fingers in her ears, and shuddered from head to foot.Even this was new to her, to hear foul language.

  A calm voice rose in the midst and said: "Let us pray."

  There was a dead silence, and Mr. Hazel kneeled down and prayed loud andfervently; and, while he prayed, the furious cries subsided for a while,and deep groans only were heard. He prayed for food, for rain, for wind,for patience.

  The men were not so far gone but they could just manage to say "Amen."

  He rose from his knees and gathered the pale faces of the men together inone glance; and saw that intense expression of agony which physical paincan mold with men's features. And then he strained his eyes over thebrassy horizon; but no cloud, no veil of vapor was visible.

  "Water, water everywhere, but never a drop to drink."

  "We must be mad," he cried, "to die of thirst with all this water roundus."

  His invention being stimulated by this idea, and his own dire need, heeagerly scanned everything in the boat, and his eyes soon lighted on twoobjects disconnected in themselves, but it struck him he could use themin combination. These were a common glass bottle, and Miss Rolleston'slife-preserving jacket, that served her for a couch. He drew this garmentover his knees and considered it attentively; then untwisted the brassnozzle through which the jacket was inflated, and so left a tube, somenine inches in length, hanging down from the neck of the garment.

  He now applied his breath to the tube, and the jacket swelling rapidlyproved that the whole receptacle was air-tight.

  He then allowed the air to escape. Next, he took the bottle and filled itwith water from the sea; then he inserted, with some difficulty and greatcare, the neck of the bottle into the orifice of the tube. This done, hedetached the wire of the brass nozzle, and whipped the tube firmly roundthe neck of the bottle. "Now, light a fire," he cried; "no matter what itcosts."

  The forethwart was chopped up, and a fire soon spluttered and sparkled,for ten eager hands were feeding it. The bottle was then suspended overit, and, in due course, the salt water boiled and threw off vapor, andthe belly of the jacket began to heave and stir. Hazel then threw coldwater upon the outside to keep it cool, and, while the men eagerlywatched the bubbling bottle and swelling bag, his spirits rose, and hetook occasion to explain that what was now going on under their eyes was,after all, only one of the great processes of Nature, done upon a smallscale. "The clouds," said he, "are but vapors drawn from the sea by theheat of the sun. These clouds are composed of fresh water, and so thesteam we are now raising from salt water will be fresh. We can't makewhisky, or brew beer, lads; but, thank Heaven, we can brew water; and itis worth all other liquors ten times told."

  A wild "Hurrah!" greeted these words. But every novel experiment seemsdoomed to fail, or meet with some disaster. The water in the bottle hadbeen reduced too low by vaporism, and the bottle burst suddenly, with aloud report. That report was followed by a piteous wail.

  Hazel turned pale at this fatal blow. But recovering himself, he said,"That is unfortunate; but it was a good servant while it lasted. Give methe baler; and, Miss Rolleston, can you lend me
a thimble?"

  The tube of the life-preserver was held over the baler, and out trickleda small quantity of pure water, two thimblefuls apiece. Even that, as itpassed over their swelling tongues and parched swallows was a heavenlyrelief. But, alas, the supply was then exhausted.

  Next day hunger seemed uppermost and the men gnawed and chewed theirtobacco-pouches. And two caps that had been dressed with the hair on weredivided for food.

  None was given to Mr. Hazel or Miss Rolleston; and this, to do the poorcreatures justice, was the first instance of injustice or partiality thesailors had shown.

  The lady, though tormented with hunger, was more magnanimous; she offeredto divide the contents of her little medicine chest; and the globuleswere all devoured in a moment.

  And now their tortures were aggravated by the sight of abundance. Theydrifted over coral rocks, at a considerable depth, but the water was soexquisitely clear that they saw five fathoms down. They discerned smallfish drifting over the bottom; they looked like a driving cloud, so vastwas their number; and every now and then there was a scurry among them,and porpoises and dog-fish broke in and feasted on them. All this theysaw, yet could not catch one of those billions for their lives. Thus theywere tantalized as well as starved.

  The next day was like the last, with this difference, that the suffererscould no longer endure their torments in silence.

  The lady moaned constantly. The sailors groaned, lamented, and cursed.

  The sun baked and blistered, and the water glared.

  The sails being useless, the sailors rigged them as an awning, and saltwater was constantly thrown over them.

  Mr. Hazel took a baler and drenched his own clothes and Miss Rolleston'supon their bodies. This relieved the hell of thirst in some degree. Butthe sailors could not be persuaded to practice it.

  In the afternoon Hazel took Miss Rolleston's Bible from her wasted hands,and read aloud the forty-second Psalm.

  When he had done, one of the sailors asked him to pass the Bible forward.He did so; and in half an hour the leaves were returned him; the vellumbinding had been cut off, divided, and eaten.

  He looked piteously at the leaves, and, after a while, fell upon hisknees and prayed silently.

  He rose, and, with Miss Rolleston's consent, offered the men the leavesas well. "It is the Bread of Life for men's souls, not their bodies,"said he. "But God is merciful; I think he will forgive you; for your needis bitter."

  Cooper replied that the binding was man's, but the pages were God's; and,either for this or another more obvious reason, the leaves were declinedfor food.

  All that afternoon Hazel was making a sort of rough spoon out of afragment of wood.

  The night that followed was darker than usual, and, about midnight, ahand was laid on Helen Rolleston's shoulder and a voice whispered--"Hush!say nothing. I have got something for you."

  At the same time something sweet and deliciously fragrant was put to herlips; she opened her mouth and received a spoonful of marmalade. Neverdid marmalade taste like that before. It dissolved itself like ambrosiaover her palate and even relieved her parched throat in some slightdegree by the saliva it excited.

  Nature could not be resisted; her body took whatever he gave. But herhigh mind rebelled.

  "Oh, how base I am," said she, and wept.

  "Why, it is your own," said he soothingly; "I took it out of your cabinexpressly for you."

  "At least oblige me by eating some yourself, sir," said Helen, "or" (witha sudden burst) "I will die ere I touch another morsel."

  "I feel the threat, Miss Rolleston; but I do not need it, for I am very,very hungry. But no; if _I_ take any, I must divide it all with _them._But if you will help me unrip the jacket, I will suck the inside--afteryou."

  Helen gazed at him, and wondered at the man, and at the strange lovewhich had so bitterly offended her when she was surrounded by comforts;but now it extorted her respect.

  They unripped the jacket, and found some moisture left. They sucked it,and it was a wonderful and incredible relief to their parched gullets.

  The next day was a fearful one. Not a cloud in the sky to give hope ofrain; the air so light it only just moved them along; and the sea glared,and the sun beat on the poor wretches, now tortured into madness withhunger and thirst.

  The body of man, in this dire extremity, can suffer internal agony asacute as any that can be inflicted on its surface by the knife; and thecries, the screams, the groans, the prayers, the curses, intermingled,that issued from the boat, were not to be distinguished from the cries ofmen horribly wounded in battle, or writhing under some terrible operationin hospitals.

  Oh, it was terrible and piteous to see and hear the boat-load of ghastlyvictims, with hollow cheeks and wild-beast eyes, go groaning, cursing,and shrieking loud, upon that fair glassy sea, below that purple vaultand glorious sun.

  Toward afternoon, the sailors got together, forward, and left Hazel andMiss Rolleston alone in the stern. This gave him an opportunity ofspeaking to her confidentially. He took advantage of it, and said, "MissRolleston, I wish to consult you. Am I justified in secreting themarmalade any longer? There is nearly a spoonful apiece."

  "No," said Helen, "divide it among them all. Oh, if I had only a womanbeside me, to pray with, and cry with, and die with; for die we must."

  "I am not so sure of that," said Hazel faintly, but with a cool fortitudeall his own. "Experience proves that the human body can subsist aprodigious time on very little food. And saturating the clothes withwater is, I know, the best way to allay thirst. And women, thank Heaven,last longer than men, under privations."

  "I shall not last long, sir," said Helen. "Look at their eyes."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that those men there are going to kill me."

 
Charles Reade and Dion Boucicault's Novels