CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.
THE BISCUIT-BOX.
Having resolved, then, not to die by my own hand, I at the same timecame to the resolution to live as long as I could. Though my twobiscuits would not have served me for another good meal, I determined tomake at least four out of them, and also to make the intervals betweeneach two as long as possible--just as long as I could endure withouteating.
The desire of prolonging my existence had been gradually growing uponme, ever since I had been relieved from the torture of thirst; and ithad now become as strong as at any period of my life. The truth is, Ihad a presentiment that I should still survive--that I was not going toperish of hunger; and this presentiment--though ever so slight, andentertained only at intervals--helped to sustain me with a sort of fainthope.
I can hardly tell why I should have entertained it at all, so reallyhopeless appeared my situation. But then I remembered that, but a fewhours before, the prospect of obtaining water was equally hopeless, andnow I possessed enough to drown myself in. Fanciful as it may seem,this idea had occurred to me--that is, to drown myself! But the momentbefore, while contemplating the easiest means of death, that of drowninghad actually come before my mind. I had often heard that it was aboutthe least painful mode of terminating one's existence. Indeed I mightsay that I had myself made trial of it.
When saved by Harry Blew I _was_ drowned to all intents and purposes--sofar as the suffering was concerned--and I am sure that had I been thenpermitted to go to the bottom, I should never have felt another pang. Iwas satisfied, therefore, that drowning was not so very hard a death;and I actually had it in consideration whether I should not cut my wayinto the great butt, and in this way end my misery! This was during mymoments of despair, when I seriously contemplated self-destruction; butthese moments had passed, and I again felt an unaccountable desire thatmy life should be prolonged.
Perhaps this change in my sentiments is not so inexplicable. Thestrange circumstance of my finding the water, with the consequent escapefrom death by thirst, had something in it of a nature almost miraculous:something that suggested the hand of Providence stretched forth in myfavour. That hand could equally aid me in other ways--could equallysave me from starvation by hunger; and though I knew not how, it mightyet deliver me from my fearful prison.
Perhaps some ideas of this kind were passing in my mind, and it was fromthese I drew that indefinable presentiment that I should yet escape.
I ate my half biscuit, and again drank of the water, for my thirst keptreturning upon me, though it no longer gave me uneasiness. I caulked upthe vent as before, and then sat down in silence.
I had no idea of making any exertion. I had no hope that anything Icould do would in the least degree alter my situation. What could I do?My hope--if hope I may call it--rested only upon fate, upon chance, orrather, I should say, upon God. But how the hand of Providence could beinterposed on my behalf, I had not the slightest idea.
Those dark, silent hours were hard to endure. It was only at intervalsthat I was cheered by the presentiment I have described; but in the farlonger intervals between, I felt gloomy and despairing.
Nearly twelve hours must have passed before I ate my second halfbiscuit. I waited as long as I could, but at length I was obliged toyield to the calls of hunger. The little morsel produced nosatisfaction. It rather appeared to render my appetite more keen andcraving. I drank copiously, but although the water filled my stomach,it had no effect in stifling the sensations of hunger.
In about six hours after, I made another meal--another half biscuitgone. I could not endure longer; and when the tiny crumb was swallowed,I knew not that I had eaten. I was as hungry as ever!
Scarce three hours was the next interval. My brave resolution to makethe two biscuits last for as many days was to no purpose. Not one dayhad passed, and the last morsel had disappeared.
What next? What should I eat next? I was as hungry as ever.
_I thought of my shoes_. I had read of men sustaining themselves for atime by chewing up their boots, their belts, their gaiters, theirpouches and saddles; in short, anything that was made of leather.Leather is an animal substance, and, even when tanned and manufactured,still possesses nutriment, though only in a slight degree. With thesememories, then, I thought of my shoes.
I was stooping down to unlace them, when I was startled by somethingcold that struck me upon the back of the head. It was a stream ofwater. The rag of fustian had been pressed out, and the water wasescaping. The jet had fallen on the back of my head, just upon the barepart of the neck, and its coldness, together with the suddenness of thething, caused me to start up in some surprise.
Of course, my astonishment ceased as soon as I perceived what it wasthat had startled me.
I placed my finger in the aperture, and groping about for the rag, soonfound it, and recaulked the cask.
This had now happened more than once, and much water had been wasted.The rag had become loosened by the action of the water, and was pressedout. It occurred to me that it might occur again while I was asleep,and most of the water in the butt might run off, and thus get lostaltogether. Some precaution, therefore, must be taken--I must find abetter stopper.
With this idea I went to work to contrive one. I searched all aroundthe "floor" of my cabin in hopes of picking up some stray chip, but nosuch thing was there.
I bethought me of cutting a splint from one of the great ribs of theship; and I made the attempt with my knife, but the wood was hard oakand painted, and defied all my efforts to split off a piece large enoughfor my purpose. In the end, no doubt, I should have succeeded; but justthen it occurred to me that I could more easily get a supply from thebox. This being a rough packing-case, was no doubt made of common deal;and from the touch I was convinced that it was so. Of course, beingmuch softer than the oak, and more easily split with a knife, I shouldhave a better chance of procuring what I wanted; and, moreover, a pieceof deal would do better for a stopper.
Shifting myself round, therefore, so as to face towards the box, I beganto feel all over it for the best place to use my knife upon.
At one of the corners I perceived the point of advantage, where one ofthe boards slightly projected above the level of the top. Into thisboard I sunk my blade, pressing it downward, and causing it to act bothas a wedge and a chisel. I had given but one push upon it, when Iperceived that the board was loose. The nails which had fastened it hadeither been broken off or drawn out, probably by the rough mauling ithad got while being stowed. Whether or not, I felt that it was quiteloose, and moved under my touch.
I at once drew out the blade. I saw that I could pull off the boardwith my hands, and it would then be easier to split off the piece that Iwanted. I laid the knife down, and applying my fingers to theprojecting end of the board, I seized it firmly, and pulled with all mymight.
It yielded to my strength. There was some creaking and crackling, asthe nails were drawn out or broken; and then a sound reached my earsthat caused me to desist and listen. It was the sound of some hardobjects escaping from out the box and falling with a rattle upon thetimbers beneath.
I was curious to know what these objects were, and letting go my hold, Istretched my hands downward, and groped for what had been spilled. Ilifted two of similar shape and size, and as I ran my fingers over them,I could not restrain myself from giving utterance to a shout of joy.
I have said that my touch had grown almost as delicate as that of ablind man; but had it been ever so obtuse, I could have told at thatmoment, what were the two flat round objects which I held between myfingers. There was no mistaking the "feel" of them. They were_biscuits_!