Chapter Thirty Two.The Horror of Darkness.The result of my calculation was of the most satisfactory nature. Eighty gallons of water would give half a gallon each day for 160 days, or a quartper diemfor 320 days—nearly a whole year! Surely I could subsist on a quart a day?—surely the voyage could not last for so long a period as 320 days? A ship might sail round the world in less time. I remembered having been told so, and it was fortunate I remembered it, for my mind was now at ease on the score of water. For all that, I resolved not to drink more than a quart a day, and on this allowance I made no doubt that the supply would be sufficient.There was more danger of running short of food; but, upon the whole, I now felt very little apprehension, as I had fully resolved to diet myself on the most economic scale.So far, then, as food and drink were concerned, I felt no further uneasiness. It was well assured that I was not to die either of thirst or starvation; and the very remarkable manner in which both food and drink had been supplied—placed, as it were, before me—naturally led me to the reflection that the hand of Providence had been extended to aid me, and I was still further consoled with the hope that He who had thus mercifully preserved me for the present, would not forsake me in the future.In this state of feeling I continued for several days, and although it was an irksome life—every hour seeming of itself a day—still I was able to endure it. Sometimes I endeavoured to kill time by counting not only the hours, but even the minutes and seconds; and in this occupation (for I could think of no other) I often passed several hours at a time. My watch enabled me to amuse myself in this manner, and I found companionship in its cheerful ticking. I fancied that it beat louder than I had ever before heard it, and most likely this was so, the sound being magnified by the wooden walls that surrounded my cell. I took care never to let the watch go to the full length of its chain, lest it might run down and derange my reckoning. Not that I cared to know the hour. That was of no consequence. I did not even know whether it was night or day by the watch, nor would it have mattered had I not known the one from the other, as the brightest sun could not have lent a ray of his light to cheer my dungeon. It chanced, however, that Ididknow the night from the day. No doubt you will wonder how I came by this knowledge—since I had kept no time for the first hundred hours after getting aboard, and there was then, in the complete darkness that surrounded me, no means of distinguishing the one from the other. I had a means of telling, however, and it was this: During all my life I had been trained to the habit of going to bed at a particular hour—ten o’clock at night—and also of rising at six exactly. This was a rule in my father’s house, as well as that of my uncle—in the latter, indeed, I was compelled to observe it with a stern exactitude. The consequence of this habit was, that whenever the hour of ten drew nigh, I naturally felt the inclination for sleep; and the habit had grown so fixed, that, notwithstanding the change of circumstances, it still continued. This I was not slow to observe. I felt the desire to sleep come upon me at regular periods, and I concluded, therefore, that whenever I had this feeling upon me it was about ten o’clock of the night. I had discovered, too, by registering the time with my watch, that I usually slept about eight hours, and then I felt no desire to remain asleep any longer. When I awoke it would be six in the morning; and, in this belief, I regulated my watch to that hour. So convinced was I of these facts, that I felt confident I could have counted the days without the watch; but fearing that some change might occur in my habitual hours of rest, in consequence of the altered circumstances in which I was placed, I resolved always to keep the time-piece going. Ever before lying down to sleep, I took the precaution to wind it up to the full length of its chain, and on awaking I repeated the operation, so that there might be no danger of even a moment’s stoppage.Though satisfied that I could tell night from day, I have said that it mattered little, or not at all. It was of importance, however, that I should know when each twenty-four hours had ended, for it was only by that means I could have any knowledge of the progress of the voyage. I took especial care to count the hours; and whenever I perceived that the hour-hand had completed two circuits around the dial, I cut a fresh notch in a piece of stick, set aside for this especial purpose. I need not say that my registry was kept with the greatest care. The only part of it on which I could not depend was that referring to the first days after my departure, when I had taken no notice whatever of the time that had passed. By guess I had put down four notches against those days and nights, and I afterwards found that my memorandum was correct.Thus for several days—nearly a week—passed I the hours—the long hours—long, and dark, and irksome: ever more or less miserable, at times sadly dejected, but never positively despairing.Strange to say, my greatest misery arose from the absence of light. I had at first suffered from my cramped position, and also from lying upon the hard oak timber; but I got used to these inconveniences. Besides, for the hardness of my bed I soon discovered a remedy. I had observed that the box which stood upon the other side of my biscuit-house contained some sort of stuff that had the feel of woollen goods. On further examination, it proved to be broadcloth, closely-packed in large webs as it had come from the manufactory. This suggested an idea that was likely to contribute to my comfort; and I set about putting it into execution. After removing the biscuits out of my way, I enlarged the hole (which I had already made in the side of the cloth-box) to such an extent that I was able—not without much labour, however—to detach one of the pieces, and draw it out; and then with less trouble I pulled forth another and another, until I had as much as would serve my purpose. I was two hours in completing this operation, but having got possession of the cloth, and shaken it out of its hard foldings, I procured both carpet and couch soft enough for a king to rest upon; and perhaps as costly, too—for I could feel that I was handling an article that was “superfine.” I did not use more of it than was absolutely required to cover the hard oaken planks. Its bulk would have inconvenienced me had I taken much of it from the box; and before spreading it out, I had to clear the way, by returning all the biscuits to their old repository.Having spread my costly couch, I lay down upon it, and felt a great deal more comfortable than I had yet done.But I still longed for light more than for anything else. It is difficult to conceive the misery of existence under complete darkness; and I could now well comprehend the reason why the “dungeon” has always been regarded as the most awful punishment which a prisoner can be made to endure. No wonder men’s hair has turned grey, and their senses have forsaken them, under such circumstances; for in truth darkness is as hard to endure as if light were essential to our existence.I thought that if I only had a light, I could have passed the time without thinking it half so long. The darkness appeared to me to double the duration of the hours, as though it was something physical and substantial that clogged the wheels of my watch, and hindered the motion of time itself. Amorphous darkness! I fancied it gave me pain—a pain that light would at once have alleviated; and sometimes I felt as I had once done before, when laid upon a sick couch counting over the long drear hours of the night, and anxiously watching for the day. In this way slowly, and far from pleasantly, did time pass on.
The result of my calculation was of the most satisfactory nature. Eighty gallons of water would give half a gallon each day for 160 days, or a quartper diemfor 320 days—nearly a whole year! Surely I could subsist on a quart a day?—surely the voyage could not last for so long a period as 320 days? A ship might sail round the world in less time. I remembered having been told so, and it was fortunate I remembered it, for my mind was now at ease on the score of water. For all that, I resolved not to drink more than a quart a day, and on this allowance I made no doubt that the supply would be sufficient.
There was more danger of running short of food; but, upon the whole, I now felt very little apprehension, as I had fully resolved to diet myself on the most economic scale.
So far, then, as food and drink were concerned, I felt no further uneasiness. It was well assured that I was not to die either of thirst or starvation; and the very remarkable manner in which both food and drink had been supplied—placed, as it were, before me—naturally led me to the reflection that the hand of Providence had been extended to aid me, and I was still further consoled with the hope that He who had thus mercifully preserved me for the present, would not forsake me in the future.
In this state of feeling I continued for several days, and although it was an irksome life—every hour seeming of itself a day—still I was able to endure it. Sometimes I endeavoured to kill time by counting not only the hours, but even the minutes and seconds; and in this occupation (for I could think of no other) I often passed several hours at a time. My watch enabled me to amuse myself in this manner, and I found companionship in its cheerful ticking. I fancied that it beat louder than I had ever before heard it, and most likely this was so, the sound being magnified by the wooden walls that surrounded my cell. I took care never to let the watch go to the full length of its chain, lest it might run down and derange my reckoning. Not that I cared to know the hour. That was of no consequence. I did not even know whether it was night or day by the watch, nor would it have mattered had I not known the one from the other, as the brightest sun could not have lent a ray of his light to cheer my dungeon. It chanced, however, that Ididknow the night from the day. No doubt you will wonder how I came by this knowledge—since I had kept no time for the first hundred hours after getting aboard, and there was then, in the complete darkness that surrounded me, no means of distinguishing the one from the other. I had a means of telling, however, and it was this: During all my life I had been trained to the habit of going to bed at a particular hour—ten o’clock at night—and also of rising at six exactly. This was a rule in my father’s house, as well as that of my uncle—in the latter, indeed, I was compelled to observe it with a stern exactitude. The consequence of this habit was, that whenever the hour of ten drew nigh, I naturally felt the inclination for sleep; and the habit had grown so fixed, that, notwithstanding the change of circumstances, it still continued. This I was not slow to observe. I felt the desire to sleep come upon me at regular periods, and I concluded, therefore, that whenever I had this feeling upon me it was about ten o’clock of the night. I had discovered, too, by registering the time with my watch, that I usually slept about eight hours, and then I felt no desire to remain asleep any longer. When I awoke it would be six in the morning; and, in this belief, I regulated my watch to that hour. So convinced was I of these facts, that I felt confident I could have counted the days without the watch; but fearing that some change might occur in my habitual hours of rest, in consequence of the altered circumstances in which I was placed, I resolved always to keep the time-piece going. Ever before lying down to sleep, I took the precaution to wind it up to the full length of its chain, and on awaking I repeated the operation, so that there might be no danger of even a moment’s stoppage.
Though satisfied that I could tell night from day, I have said that it mattered little, or not at all. It was of importance, however, that I should know when each twenty-four hours had ended, for it was only by that means I could have any knowledge of the progress of the voyage. I took especial care to count the hours; and whenever I perceived that the hour-hand had completed two circuits around the dial, I cut a fresh notch in a piece of stick, set aside for this especial purpose. I need not say that my registry was kept with the greatest care. The only part of it on which I could not depend was that referring to the first days after my departure, when I had taken no notice whatever of the time that had passed. By guess I had put down four notches against those days and nights, and I afterwards found that my memorandum was correct.
Thus for several days—nearly a week—passed I the hours—the long hours—long, and dark, and irksome: ever more or less miserable, at times sadly dejected, but never positively despairing.
Strange to say, my greatest misery arose from the absence of light. I had at first suffered from my cramped position, and also from lying upon the hard oak timber; but I got used to these inconveniences. Besides, for the hardness of my bed I soon discovered a remedy. I had observed that the box which stood upon the other side of my biscuit-house contained some sort of stuff that had the feel of woollen goods. On further examination, it proved to be broadcloth, closely-packed in large webs as it had come from the manufactory. This suggested an idea that was likely to contribute to my comfort; and I set about putting it into execution. After removing the biscuits out of my way, I enlarged the hole (which I had already made in the side of the cloth-box) to such an extent that I was able—not without much labour, however—to detach one of the pieces, and draw it out; and then with less trouble I pulled forth another and another, until I had as much as would serve my purpose. I was two hours in completing this operation, but having got possession of the cloth, and shaken it out of its hard foldings, I procured both carpet and couch soft enough for a king to rest upon; and perhaps as costly, too—for I could feel that I was handling an article that was “superfine.” I did not use more of it than was absolutely required to cover the hard oaken planks. Its bulk would have inconvenienced me had I taken much of it from the box; and before spreading it out, I had to clear the way, by returning all the biscuits to their old repository.
Having spread my costly couch, I lay down upon it, and felt a great deal more comfortable than I had yet done.
But I still longed for light more than for anything else. It is difficult to conceive the misery of existence under complete darkness; and I could now well comprehend the reason why the “dungeon” has always been regarded as the most awful punishment which a prisoner can be made to endure. No wonder men’s hair has turned grey, and their senses have forsaken them, under such circumstances; for in truth darkness is as hard to endure as if light were essential to our existence.
I thought that if I only had a light, I could have passed the time without thinking it half so long. The darkness appeared to me to double the duration of the hours, as though it was something physical and substantial that clogged the wheels of my watch, and hindered the motion of time itself. Amorphous darkness! I fancied it gave me pain—a pain that light would at once have alleviated; and sometimes I felt as I had once done before, when laid upon a sick couch counting over the long drear hours of the night, and anxiously watching for the day. In this way slowly, and far from pleasantly, did time pass on.
Chapter Thirty Three.The Storm.More than a week had I spent under this tedious monotony of existence. The only sound that reached my ears was the hoarse rushing of the wavesaboveme. Above me—for I knew that I was far down amid their depths, far below the surface of the sea. At long intervals only, I could distinguish other noises, like a thumping upon the decks as if some heavy object was being moved about, and no doubt such was the cause of it. In calm weather I sometimes fancied I could hear the bell calling the men upon their watches, but I was not sure of this. At all events, the sound appeared so distant and indistinct, that I could not positively say it was a bell; and if so, it was only during the calmest weather I could hear it.I speak of calm weather, for I knew perfectly when there were changes. I could tell the breeze, the gale, the storm—when they commenced and when they ended—just as well as if I had been upon deck. The rolling of the ship, and the creaking of her timbers, were good indices as to how the wind blew, or whether it was rough or mild weather. On the sixth day—that is, the tenth from departure, but the sixth of my register—we encountered a regular storm. It lasted for two days and a night; and must have been a terribly severe one, as it shook the timbers of the vessel as though it would have torn them asunder. At times I really thought that the great ship was going to pieces; and the noises made by huge boxes and casks striking and grinding against each other, or knocking violently upon the sides and bulwarks of the ship itself, was sufficiently terrible. At intervals, too; I could distinguish the sound of big waves—“seas,” as the sailors call them—breaking against the vessel with awful crash, as if a huge trip-hammer or battering-ram had been directed with full force against the timbers of the ship.I had no doubt that the vessel was in danger of being wrecked; and under this belief you may fancy my situation. I need not tell you that I was in fear. When I thought that we should go to the bottom of the sea, and I situated as I was—shut in on all sides as if in a coffin—with no chance to move, not even to make, an effort to save myself by swimming, how could it be otherwise with me than a time of great fear? Had I been upon deck and free, I am certain I should not have been half so frightened at that storm.To increase my misery, the sea-sickness had returned upon me, for this is usually the case with those who go to sea on a first voyage. A great storm encountered brings a return of the nauseous malady, often as disagreeably vigorous as that experienced during the first twenty-four hours at sea. This is accounted for very easily: it is simply the consequence of the more violent rocking of the ship while buffeted by the storm.For nearly forty hours the gale continued, and then there succeeded a perfect calm. I knew this to be the case, because I no longer heard the seething sound which usually betokens that the ship is moving through the water. But notwithstanding that the wind had ceased to blow, the vessel kept tumbling about; and her timbers creaked, and boxes and barrels rolled and knocked each other, as badly as ever. This was occasioned by the “swell” which always succeeds a heavy gale, and which is sometimes as dangerous to vessels as the stormy weather itself. In a very heavy swell the masts are sometimes broken, and the ship thrown upon her beam-ends—a catastrophe ever dreaded by sailors.The swell gradually subsided, until, in about twenty-four hours after, it had ceased altogether, and the vessel appeared to glide along more smoothly than ever. The nauseating sickness took its departure about the same time, and I felt the reaction of health, which produced a little cheerfulness within me. As my fears had kept me awake during the whole time the storm was raging, and as I had continued ill so long as the violent rocking prevailed, I was quite worn out; so that the moment things were smooth again, I fell off into a profound slumber.I had dreams that were nearly as terrible as the realities through which I had been passing. In fact, I dreamt what but the hours before I had been dreading. I dreamt that I was being drowned, and just under the circumstances in which I was—shut up in the hold without the chance of swimming a stroke for my life. Nay more, I dreamt that I actuallywasdrowned, and lying at the bottom of the sea—that I was dead, but not unconscious. On the contrary, I could see well around me, and perceived, among other things, horrible green monsters—crabs or lobsters—crawling towards me, as if with the design of tearing me with their hideous claws, and feasting on my flesh! One, in particular, drew my attention, larger and more spiteful-looking than the rest, and closer to me than any. Each instant, too, he was drawing nearer and nearer. I thought he had reached my hand, and I could feel him crawling upon it. I could feel the cold harsh touch as he dragged his unwieldy shape over my fingers, but I could not move either hand or finger to cast him off. On he came over my wrist and straight up my arm, which was lying outstretched from my body. He appeared as if determined to attack me in the face or the throat. I read his intention to do so from the eagerness with which he advanced, but despite the horror I felt, I could do nothing to repel him. I could not move hand or arm—nor a muscle of my body. How could I, since I was drowned and dead? “Ha! he is on my breast—at my very throat—he will soon clutch me—ha!”I awoke with a shriek, and started upward. I would have risen to my feet, had there been room to stand erect. As it was, there was not room; and a blow which I received by dashing my head against the great oak rib of the vessel, brought me back to my couch, and, after some moments, to a consciousness of my situation.
More than a week had I spent under this tedious monotony of existence. The only sound that reached my ears was the hoarse rushing of the wavesaboveme. Above me—for I knew that I was far down amid their depths, far below the surface of the sea. At long intervals only, I could distinguish other noises, like a thumping upon the decks as if some heavy object was being moved about, and no doubt such was the cause of it. In calm weather I sometimes fancied I could hear the bell calling the men upon their watches, but I was not sure of this. At all events, the sound appeared so distant and indistinct, that I could not positively say it was a bell; and if so, it was only during the calmest weather I could hear it.
I speak of calm weather, for I knew perfectly when there were changes. I could tell the breeze, the gale, the storm—when they commenced and when they ended—just as well as if I had been upon deck. The rolling of the ship, and the creaking of her timbers, were good indices as to how the wind blew, or whether it was rough or mild weather. On the sixth day—that is, the tenth from departure, but the sixth of my register—we encountered a regular storm. It lasted for two days and a night; and must have been a terribly severe one, as it shook the timbers of the vessel as though it would have torn them asunder. At times I really thought that the great ship was going to pieces; and the noises made by huge boxes and casks striking and grinding against each other, or knocking violently upon the sides and bulwarks of the ship itself, was sufficiently terrible. At intervals, too; I could distinguish the sound of big waves—“seas,” as the sailors call them—breaking against the vessel with awful crash, as if a huge trip-hammer or battering-ram had been directed with full force against the timbers of the ship.
I had no doubt that the vessel was in danger of being wrecked; and under this belief you may fancy my situation. I need not tell you that I was in fear. When I thought that we should go to the bottom of the sea, and I situated as I was—shut in on all sides as if in a coffin—with no chance to move, not even to make, an effort to save myself by swimming, how could it be otherwise with me than a time of great fear? Had I been upon deck and free, I am certain I should not have been half so frightened at that storm.
To increase my misery, the sea-sickness had returned upon me, for this is usually the case with those who go to sea on a first voyage. A great storm encountered brings a return of the nauseous malady, often as disagreeably vigorous as that experienced during the first twenty-four hours at sea. This is accounted for very easily: it is simply the consequence of the more violent rocking of the ship while buffeted by the storm.
For nearly forty hours the gale continued, and then there succeeded a perfect calm. I knew this to be the case, because I no longer heard the seething sound which usually betokens that the ship is moving through the water. But notwithstanding that the wind had ceased to blow, the vessel kept tumbling about; and her timbers creaked, and boxes and barrels rolled and knocked each other, as badly as ever. This was occasioned by the “swell” which always succeeds a heavy gale, and which is sometimes as dangerous to vessels as the stormy weather itself. In a very heavy swell the masts are sometimes broken, and the ship thrown upon her beam-ends—a catastrophe ever dreaded by sailors.
The swell gradually subsided, until, in about twenty-four hours after, it had ceased altogether, and the vessel appeared to glide along more smoothly than ever. The nauseating sickness took its departure about the same time, and I felt the reaction of health, which produced a little cheerfulness within me. As my fears had kept me awake during the whole time the storm was raging, and as I had continued ill so long as the violent rocking prevailed, I was quite worn out; so that the moment things were smooth again, I fell off into a profound slumber.
I had dreams that were nearly as terrible as the realities through which I had been passing. In fact, I dreamt what but the hours before I had been dreading. I dreamt that I was being drowned, and just under the circumstances in which I was—shut up in the hold without the chance of swimming a stroke for my life. Nay more, I dreamt that I actuallywasdrowned, and lying at the bottom of the sea—that I was dead, but not unconscious. On the contrary, I could see well around me, and perceived, among other things, horrible green monsters—crabs or lobsters—crawling towards me, as if with the design of tearing me with their hideous claws, and feasting on my flesh! One, in particular, drew my attention, larger and more spiteful-looking than the rest, and closer to me than any. Each instant, too, he was drawing nearer and nearer. I thought he had reached my hand, and I could feel him crawling upon it. I could feel the cold harsh touch as he dragged his unwieldy shape over my fingers, but I could not move either hand or finger to cast him off. On he came over my wrist and straight up my arm, which was lying outstretched from my body. He appeared as if determined to attack me in the face or the throat. I read his intention to do so from the eagerness with which he advanced, but despite the horror I felt, I could do nothing to repel him. I could not move hand or arm—nor a muscle of my body. How could I, since I was drowned and dead? “Ha! he is on my breast—at my very throat—he will soon clutch me—ha!”
I awoke with a shriek, and started upward. I would have risen to my feet, had there been room to stand erect. As it was, there was not room; and a blow which I received by dashing my head against the great oak rib of the vessel, brought me back to my couch, and, after some moments, to a consciousness of my situation.
Chapter Thirty Four.A Novel Drinking-Cup.Notwithstanding that it was all a dream, and that no crab could possibly have crept up my arm—notwithstanding that I was now awake, and knew I had been only dreaming about it—I could not help fancying that a crabactually had been crawling over me—a crab or some other creature. I felt that peculiar tingling sensation along my arm and upon my breast, which was quite open and bare, that might be produced by the claws of some small animal creeping over one, and I could not help thinking that there had beensomething!So convinced was I of this, that on awaking I flung out my arms mechanically, and groped all over the spread broadcloth, and around the edges of my lurking-place, expecting to lay them upon someliving creature!Half asleep, I still believed itwasa crab; but as my senses became clearer, I reasoned upon the improbability of there being one in such a place. And yet, why not? A crab might very well find lodgment in the hold of a ship: it might have been brought aboard in some strange way—among the ballast—or possibly carried aboard by some of the sailors, out of curiosity; it may have been abandoned to its fate, and left to hide itself among the numerous corners and crevices which are found among the timbers of a vessel’s hold? It might procure sustenance in the bilge-water, or in the ballast rubbish, or perhaps, like the chameleon, crabs could exist on air?I had such thoughts, but only for a few moments after awaking; and as I reasoned further on the matter, I abandoned them. It could only be my dream that had made me think of crabs at all. But for that, the thought of such a creature would not have entered my mind. There could have been no crab, else I should have laid my hands upon it; for I had lost no time in groping over the surface of my cloth carpeting—every inch of it—and I found nothing there. There were but two crevices leading out of my cell, by which a crab of any considerable size could have entered or escaped; and I had felt these places at the very first moment. So slow a traveller could not have passed through either of them in so short a time! No, there could have been no crab; and yet therewas something, certainly—something had crawled over me. I could not be convinced of the contrary.I lay for a long time pondering over the subject of my dream. The unpleasant feeling which it had occasioned me soon passed away. It was very natural I should have dreamt what I did, since it was almost the same thing I had been thinking of during the continuance of the storm.On examining my watch, I found that I had considerably overslept myself, having been unconscious for nearly sixteen hours! This prolonged slumber was the result of my having been kept so long awake by the storm, and the sickness that it had occasioned me.I now felt more hungry than I had done for days, and at once set about satisfying that appetite. Strive as I would, I could not resist the temptation of eating more than my allotted ration, and I did not leave off till I had eaten four of my precious biscuits. I had been told that nothing creates so keen an appetite as a turn of sea-sickness, and I found this to be truth. Indeed, I felt as if I could have consumed the whole of my stock, and the four biscuits I ate scarcely took the edge well off my hunger. Nothing but the dread of running short hindered me from eating three times as many.I was also in great thirst, and swallowed far more than my allowance of water; but I was not so careful of this, as I believed it would be quite sure to last me to the end of the voyage. One thing about the water troubled me not a little. Each time that I went to take a drink, a considerable waste took place, in consequence of my having no vessel to draw it in; and, moreover, to drink from the hole I had made was altogether an unsatisfactory way of quenching my thirst. As soon as the peg was drawn out, a strong jet would shoot forth, to which I applied my mouth. But I could not swallow it as fast as it came, and it was sure—after taking away my breath, and half choking me—to squirt all over my face, wetting my clothes and everything else about me, before I could get the stopper back into its place.If I only had had a vessel to draw it in—a cup or anything?I thought of using one of my buskins, for I had no need for them otherwise; but I felt some qualms about making this use of them.I should not have hesitated to have drunk out of them, or any other vessel, when pressed by thirst previous to my having tapped the butt; but now that I had water in plenty, the case was different. Still, I could get one of them sufficiently clean for the purpose. Better, thought I, to waste a little water in washing one of them, than lose a large quantity every time I went to drink.I was about to put this design into execution, when a better idea came into my head—that was to make a drinking-cup out of a piece of broadcloth. This was altogether better. I had already observed that the cloth was waterproof—at least, the water that was spilt from the butt appeared to lie upon it without passing through—for I had been obliged to shake it off on each occasion. A piece of the cloth, therefore, formed into a cup shape, would be likely enough to serve my purpose; and accordingly I resolved to make me such a vessel.It needed only to cut a broad strip with my knife, roll it up, as if I was intending it for a funnel—taking care to fold it of several thicknesses of the cloth. When rolled, I bound it in its place with a fragment of the thong from my buskins, and I thus succeeded in making me a drinking-vessel, which would, anddid, serve me as well as if it had been of best china or glass. I was henceforth enabled to take a drink more to my satisfaction, and without wasting the precious fluid upon which my life depended.
Notwithstanding that it was all a dream, and that no crab could possibly have crept up my arm—notwithstanding that I was now awake, and knew I had been only dreaming about it—I could not help fancying that a crabactually had been crawling over me—a crab or some other creature. I felt that peculiar tingling sensation along my arm and upon my breast, which was quite open and bare, that might be produced by the claws of some small animal creeping over one, and I could not help thinking that there had beensomething!
So convinced was I of this, that on awaking I flung out my arms mechanically, and groped all over the spread broadcloth, and around the edges of my lurking-place, expecting to lay them upon someliving creature!
Half asleep, I still believed itwasa crab; but as my senses became clearer, I reasoned upon the improbability of there being one in such a place. And yet, why not? A crab might very well find lodgment in the hold of a ship: it might have been brought aboard in some strange way—among the ballast—or possibly carried aboard by some of the sailors, out of curiosity; it may have been abandoned to its fate, and left to hide itself among the numerous corners and crevices which are found among the timbers of a vessel’s hold? It might procure sustenance in the bilge-water, or in the ballast rubbish, or perhaps, like the chameleon, crabs could exist on air?
I had such thoughts, but only for a few moments after awaking; and as I reasoned further on the matter, I abandoned them. It could only be my dream that had made me think of crabs at all. But for that, the thought of such a creature would not have entered my mind. There could have been no crab, else I should have laid my hands upon it; for I had lost no time in groping over the surface of my cloth carpeting—every inch of it—and I found nothing there. There were but two crevices leading out of my cell, by which a crab of any considerable size could have entered or escaped; and I had felt these places at the very first moment. So slow a traveller could not have passed through either of them in so short a time! No, there could have been no crab; and yet therewas something, certainly—something had crawled over me. I could not be convinced of the contrary.
I lay for a long time pondering over the subject of my dream. The unpleasant feeling which it had occasioned me soon passed away. It was very natural I should have dreamt what I did, since it was almost the same thing I had been thinking of during the continuance of the storm.
On examining my watch, I found that I had considerably overslept myself, having been unconscious for nearly sixteen hours! This prolonged slumber was the result of my having been kept so long awake by the storm, and the sickness that it had occasioned me.
I now felt more hungry than I had done for days, and at once set about satisfying that appetite. Strive as I would, I could not resist the temptation of eating more than my allotted ration, and I did not leave off till I had eaten four of my precious biscuits. I had been told that nothing creates so keen an appetite as a turn of sea-sickness, and I found this to be truth. Indeed, I felt as if I could have consumed the whole of my stock, and the four biscuits I ate scarcely took the edge well off my hunger. Nothing but the dread of running short hindered me from eating three times as many.
I was also in great thirst, and swallowed far more than my allowance of water; but I was not so careful of this, as I believed it would be quite sure to last me to the end of the voyage. One thing about the water troubled me not a little. Each time that I went to take a drink, a considerable waste took place, in consequence of my having no vessel to draw it in; and, moreover, to drink from the hole I had made was altogether an unsatisfactory way of quenching my thirst. As soon as the peg was drawn out, a strong jet would shoot forth, to which I applied my mouth. But I could not swallow it as fast as it came, and it was sure—after taking away my breath, and half choking me—to squirt all over my face, wetting my clothes and everything else about me, before I could get the stopper back into its place.
If I only had had a vessel to draw it in—a cup or anything?
I thought of using one of my buskins, for I had no need for them otherwise; but I felt some qualms about making this use of them.
I should not have hesitated to have drunk out of them, or any other vessel, when pressed by thirst previous to my having tapped the butt; but now that I had water in plenty, the case was different. Still, I could get one of them sufficiently clean for the purpose. Better, thought I, to waste a little water in washing one of them, than lose a large quantity every time I went to drink.
I was about to put this design into execution, when a better idea came into my head—that was to make a drinking-cup out of a piece of broadcloth. This was altogether better. I had already observed that the cloth was waterproof—at least, the water that was spilt from the butt appeared to lie upon it without passing through—for I had been obliged to shake it off on each occasion. A piece of the cloth, therefore, formed into a cup shape, would be likely enough to serve my purpose; and accordingly I resolved to make me such a vessel.
It needed only to cut a broad strip with my knife, roll it up, as if I was intending it for a funnel—taking care to fold it of several thicknesses of the cloth. When rolled, I bound it in its place with a fragment of the thong from my buskins, and I thus succeeded in making me a drinking-vessel, which would, anddid, serve me as well as if it had been of best china or glass. I was henceforth enabled to take a drink more to my satisfaction, and without wasting the precious fluid upon which my life depended.
Chapter Thirty Five.Mysterious Disappearance.As I had eaten so many biscuits for breakfast, I intended to make breakfast serve me for that day; but, hungering as I was, I could not carry out my good intent. About mid-day, I found myself groping at the box, and the result was, that I abstracted another biscuit. I resolved, however, to eat only half of it for dinner, and keep the other half for supper. Following out this resolution, I broke the biscuit across the middle, and laid one half aside. The other I ate, washing it down with a little more water.You may think it strange that I did not fancy a little brandy along with it, which I might have had without any trouble, since there were at least a hundred gallons of it within reach. The brandy, however, was nothing to me; and the great cask might as well have contained vitriol, for aught I cared for it. There were several reasons why I did not meddle with it. First, because I did not relish it; second, because it made me feel sick, and nauseated both my palate and stomach. I suppose it had been of an inferior kind, intended, not as an article of commerce, but for the use of the sailors, as casks of very bad brandy and rum are carried in most ships for the use of the crew. A third reason why I kept clear of the brandy was, that I had already drunk of it—only about one wine-glassful—and it had the effect of making me so thirsty that I drank nearly half a gallon of water before I succeeded in fully quenching my thirst again. I reasoned, therefore, that if I touched the brandy, it would cause me, either great suffering from thirst, or that I should have to use more water than I could spare. Therefore it was, that I determined to abstain altogether from this alcoholic spirit.When my watch warned me that it was my usual hour to go to sleep, I resolved to eat the odd half biscuit, which I had reserved for supper; and then “retire for the night.”This operation consisted simply in stretching myself in a new position, and drawing a fold or two of the broadcloth over me, to keep me from getting chilled while asleep.For the first week after leaving port, I had found it very cold, for it was the winter season when we left home. The cloth, however, after it was discovered, enabled me to wrap up snugly enough, and I no longer cared for the cold. After a time, however, I began to perceive that the cold had quite taken its departure, and each day and night the atmosphere in the hold of the ship appeared to be growing warmer. On the night after the storm had passed, it did not feel at all cold, and the slightest covering sufficed.At first, I was surprised by this sudden change in the state of the atmosphere; but when I reflected a little, I was able to explain it to my satisfaction. “Beyond a doubt,” thought I, “we have been all the while sailing southward, and we are getting into the hot latitudes of the torrid zone.”I knew but little of what that meant, but I had heard that the torrid zone—or the tropics, as it was also called—lay to the south of England; and that there the climate was hotter than the hottest summer day at home. I had also heard that Peru was a southern country, and therefore we must be going in a southerly direction to reach it.This was a very good explanation of the warm weather that had set in. The ship had now been sailing for nearly two weeks; and allowing her to have made two hundred miles a day (and ships, I knew, often go faster than that), she would at this time be a long way from England, and in a different climate altogether.Thus reasoning with myself, I contrived to pass that afternoon and evening, and as I felt the hands of my watch indicating the hour of ten, I resolved, as already stated, to eat the half biscuit, and then go to sleep.I first drew a cup of water, so that the biscuit might not be eaten dry; and, this done, I stretched forth my hand for the bread. I knew the exact spot where it lay, for I had a little corner, just alongside the great beam, where I kept my knife and cup, and wooden almanack—a sort of little shelf, raised by a roll of the cloth above the common level of my cell. There I had placed the half biscuit, and there, of course, I could lay my hand upon it as well without a light as with one. So perfectly had I become acquainted with every corner of my apartment, and every crevice leading from it, that I could place my finger on any given spot of the size of a crown-piece, without the slightest deviation.I reached forth my hand, then, to clutch the precious morsel. Judge my astonishment when I touched the spot where I supposed it to be lying, and foundit was not there!At first, I fancied I might be mistaken—that perhaps I had not left it in the usual place on my shelf. There it certainly was not.I felt the cloth cup, for that was in my hand full of water. The knife was in its place—so, too, the little notched stick, and the pieces of the string which I had used in measuring the butt—but no half biscuit!Could I have put it anywhere else? I thought not; and yet, to make sure, I felt all over the bottom of my cell, and among the folds and wrinkles of the cloth, and even in the pockets both of my jacket and trousers. I felt in my buskins too, for these were not upon my feet, as I no longer needed them, but lying idle in a corner. I left not an inch of the place that I did not examine—and minutely too—yet still no half biscuit could be found!I looked carefully for it, not so much on account of its value; but that its disappearance from the shelf was something rather strange—stranger still that I could nowhere lay my hand upon it.Had I eaten it?I began to fancy that I had done so. Perhaps, during a period of absent-mindedness, I might have swallowed it up, without ever thinking of what I was doing. Certainly, I had no remembrance of having tasted food since I ate its counterpart—the other half; and if I had eaten it also, it must have done me very little good. I had neither enjoyed the meal, nor yet did my stomach appear to have received much benefit from it, since I was just as hungry as if I had not tasted food that day.I recollected perfectly having placed it alongside the knife and cup; and how could it part from the place, unless it had been taken away by my own hand? I could not have thrown it accidentally from the little shelf, for I did not remember making a movement in that direction. But even so, it would still have been somewhere about me? It could not get underneath the butt, for the crevice there was closed up, regularly caulked with pieces of the cloth. I had done this for the purpose of making a level surface to rest upon.Certainly the half biscuit was not to be found. It was gone—whether down my throat or in some other way, I could not decide—but if the former, I thought to myself, what a pity I had eaten it without knowing what I was about, for certainly my absence of mind had deprived me of all enjoyment of the meal.I wavered for a long while, as to whether I should take another biscuit out of the box, or go to bed supperless. But the dread of the future decided me to abstain; and, summoning all my resolution, I drank off the cold water, placed my cup upon the shelf, and laid myself down for the night.
As I had eaten so many biscuits for breakfast, I intended to make breakfast serve me for that day; but, hungering as I was, I could not carry out my good intent. About mid-day, I found myself groping at the box, and the result was, that I abstracted another biscuit. I resolved, however, to eat only half of it for dinner, and keep the other half for supper. Following out this resolution, I broke the biscuit across the middle, and laid one half aside. The other I ate, washing it down with a little more water.
You may think it strange that I did not fancy a little brandy along with it, which I might have had without any trouble, since there were at least a hundred gallons of it within reach. The brandy, however, was nothing to me; and the great cask might as well have contained vitriol, for aught I cared for it. There were several reasons why I did not meddle with it. First, because I did not relish it; second, because it made me feel sick, and nauseated both my palate and stomach. I suppose it had been of an inferior kind, intended, not as an article of commerce, but for the use of the sailors, as casks of very bad brandy and rum are carried in most ships for the use of the crew. A third reason why I kept clear of the brandy was, that I had already drunk of it—only about one wine-glassful—and it had the effect of making me so thirsty that I drank nearly half a gallon of water before I succeeded in fully quenching my thirst again. I reasoned, therefore, that if I touched the brandy, it would cause me, either great suffering from thirst, or that I should have to use more water than I could spare. Therefore it was, that I determined to abstain altogether from this alcoholic spirit.
When my watch warned me that it was my usual hour to go to sleep, I resolved to eat the odd half biscuit, which I had reserved for supper; and then “retire for the night.”
This operation consisted simply in stretching myself in a new position, and drawing a fold or two of the broadcloth over me, to keep me from getting chilled while asleep.
For the first week after leaving port, I had found it very cold, for it was the winter season when we left home. The cloth, however, after it was discovered, enabled me to wrap up snugly enough, and I no longer cared for the cold. After a time, however, I began to perceive that the cold had quite taken its departure, and each day and night the atmosphere in the hold of the ship appeared to be growing warmer. On the night after the storm had passed, it did not feel at all cold, and the slightest covering sufficed.
At first, I was surprised by this sudden change in the state of the atmosphere; but when I reflected a little, I was able to explain it to my satisfaction. “Beyond a doubt,” thought I, “we have been all the while sailing southward, and we are getting into the hot latitudes of the torrid zone.”
I knew but little of what that meant, but I had heard that the torrid zone—or the tropics, as it was also called—lay to the south of England; and that there the climate was hotter than the hottest summer day at home. I had also heard that Peru was a southern country, and therefore we must be going in a southerly direction to reach it.
This was a very good explanation of the warm weather that had set in. The ship had now been sailing for nearly two weeks; and allowing her to have made two hundred miles a day (and ships, I knew, often go faster than that), she would at this time be a long way from England, and in a different climate altogether.
Thus reasoning with myself, I contrived to pass that afternoon and evening, and as I felt the hands of my watch indicating the hour of ten, I resolved, as already stated, to eat the half biscuit, and then go to sleep.
I first drew a cup of water, so that the biscuit might not be eaten dry; and, this done, I stretched forth my hand for the bread. I knew the exact spot where it lay, for I had a little corner, just alongside the great beam, where I kept my knife and cup, and wooden almanack—a sort of little shelf, raised by a roll of the cloth above the common level of my cell. There I had placed the half biscuit, and there, of course, I could lay my hand upon it as well without a light as with one. So perfectly had I become acquainted with every corner of my apartment, and every crevice leading from it, that I could place my finger on any given spot of the size of a crown-piece, without the slightest deviation.
I reached forth my hand, then, to clutch the precious morsel. Judge my astonishment when I touched the spot where I supposed it to be lying, and foundit was not there!
At first, I fancied I might be mistaken—that perhaps I had not left it in the usual place on my shelf. There it certainly was not.
I felt the cloth cup, for that was in my hand full of water. The knife was in its place—so, too, the little notched stick, and the pieces of the string which I had used in measuring the butt—but no half biscuit!
Could I have put it anywhere else? I thought not; and yet, to make sure, I felt all over the bottom of my cell, and among the folds and wrinkles of the cloth, and even in the pockets both of my jacket and trousers. I felt in my buskins too, for these were not upon my feet, as I no longer needed them, but lying idle in a corner. I left not an inch of the place that I did not examine—and minutely too—yet still no half biscuit could be found!
I looked carefully for it, not so much on account of its value; but that its disappearance from the shelf was something rather strange—stranger still that I could nowhere lay my hand upon it.
Had I eaten it?
I began to fancy that I had done so. Perhaps, during a period of absent-mindedness, I might have swallowed it up, without ever thinking of what I was doing. Certainly, I had no remembrance of having tasted food since I ate its counterpart—the other half; and if I had eaten it also, it must have done me very little good. I had neither enjoyed the meal, nor yet did my stomach appear to have received much benefit from it, since I was just as hungry as if I had not tasted food that day.
I recollected perfectly having placed it alongside the knife and cup; and how could it part from the place, unless it had been taken away by my own hand? I could not have thrown it accidentally from the little shelf, for I did not remember making a movement in that direction. But even so, it would still have been somewhere about me? It could not get underneath the butt, for the crevice there was closed up, regularly caulked with pieces of the cloth. I had done this for the purpose of making a level surface to rest upon.
Certainly the half biscuit was not to be found. It was gone—whether down my throat or in some other way, I could not decide—but if the former, I thought to myself, what a pity I had eaten it without knowing what I was about, for certainly my absence of mind had deprived me of all enjoyment of the meal.
I wavered for a long while, as to whether I should take another biscuit out of the box, or go to bed supperless. But the dread of the future decided me to abstain; and, summoning all my resolution, I drank off the cold water, placed my cup upon the shelf, and laid myself down for the night.
Chapter Thirty Six.An Ugly Intruder.For a long while I did not sleep, but lay thinking over the mysterious disappearance of the half biscuit. I saymysterious, for I was more than half convinced that I hadnoteaten it, but that it had gone in some other way; though how, I could not even guess, since I was perfectly alone, the only living thing, as I supposed, in that vessel’s hold which could have touched it. Ah! now I thought of my dream—of the crab! Perhaps, after all, there might have been a crab?—and though it was but a dream that I was drowned, yet the rest might be true enough, and a crab might actually have crawled over me? It might have eaten the biscuit?It would not be its natural food, I knew; but shut up in a ship’s hold, where it could have no choice, it would be likely enough to eat such a thing rather than suffer starvation. There might be a crab after all?Partly by such a train of reflections, and partly by the hungry craving of my stomach, I was kept awake for hours. At length I found myself going off, not into a regular sleep, but a half sleep or doze, from which every two or three minutes I awoke again.In one of these intervals, during which I lay awake, I fancied that I heard a noise, different from the sounds that habitually fell upon my ear. The ship was running smoothly, and I could distinguish this unusual sound above the soft sighing of the waves. This last was now so slight, that the ticking of my watch appeared louder and more distinct than I had ever observed it.The sound which had attracted my attention, and which was something new to me, appeared like a gentle scratching. It came from the corner where my buskins lay empty and idle.Something was scratching at my buskins!“The crab, to a certainty!” I said to myself. The thought at once drove away all ideas of sleep; and I placed myself in an attitude to listen, and, if possible, lay my hands on the thievish intruder; for I now felt certain that, crab or no crab, whatever creature was making the scratching noise was the same that had stolen my supper.Once more I heard the scraping and scratching noise. Certainly it proceeded from my buskins?Slowly and silently I raised myself into a half-upright position, so that I could reach the buskins with a single effort, and in this attitude I again listened for a repetition of the sound.But though I remained patient for a considerable time, I did not hear it again; and I then passed my hands over the buskins, and around the place where they were lying, but felt nothing there. They appeared to be just as they had been left, and nothing amiss. I also groped over all the floor of my cell, but with like result. Nothing was there that ought not to have been.I was not a little perplexed, and lay for a good while awake and listening, without hearing anything more of the mysterious noise. Sleep once more began to steal upon me, and I dropped off into a series of dozing fits as before.Once again the scraping and scratching noise falling upon my ear disturbed me, and caused me to lie listening. Most surely it came from the buskins; but when I moved to get within reach of them, the noise instantly ceased, as if I had frightened the creature that was making it; and, just as before, I groped everywhere and found nothing!“Ha!” muttered I to myself, “I now know what has been causing all this disturbance: no crab at all—for a crab could not possibly crawl so quickly out of the way. The intruder is a mouse. Nothing more nor less. Strange I did not think of this before! I might have guessed that it was a mouse, and not have made myself so uneasy about it. It could only be a mouse; and, but for my dream, I should, perhaps, never have thought of its being a crab.”With this reflection I lay down again, intending to go to sleep at once, and not trouble myself any more about the mouse or its movements.But I had scarcely settled my cheek upon the pillow, when the scratching began afresh, and it now occurred to me that the mouse was gnawing at my buskins, and probably doing them a serious damage. Although they were of no service to me just then, I could not permit them to be eaten up in this way; and, raising myself once more, I made a dash to catch the mouse.In this I was unsuccessful. I did not even touch the animal; but I thought I heard it scampering through the crevice that led out between the brandy-cask and the timbers of the ship.On handling the buskins, I discovered to my chagrin that half of the upper leather of one of them was eaten away! The mouse must have been busy to have made so much ruin in so short a time, for it was but a few hours before that I had had the buskins in my hands, and I had then noticed nothing wrong with them. Perhaps several mice had been at work? This was likely enough.Partly to save the buskins from total destruction, and partly to hinder myself from being disturbed again, I took them out of the corner, and placing them near my head, covered them up with a fold of the broadcloth. This done, I once more laid myself out for a sleep.After awhile the dozing fit came on me, but I was again awakened by a singular sensation, as of something crawling over me! It appeared as if some creature had just crept over my legs with great rapidity.The feeling startled me into complete wakefulness, I did not move, however, but lay quietly waiting to see if the thing should come again.Of course, I concluded that it was still my mouse, now running about in search of the buskins. I was getting annoyed by its intrusion, and I knew it would be no use to grope for it, as it would easily escape through one of the crevices, as soon as it found me moving. I determined, therefore, to lie quite still, and let it again crawl upon me as before, and I could then easily seize upon it. It was not my intention to kill the little creature; but I intended to give it a good squeeze, or pinch its ear sharply, so that it would not come troubling me any more.I lay a long while without hearing or feeling it. At last, however, my patience was likely to be rewarded. I could tell by a slight movement, in the piece of cloth that covered my limbs, that something was running upon it, and I even fancied that I heard the pattering of little feet. Nearer still the cloth appeared to move, until I could distinctly feel a creature crawling on my ankles, and then upward to my thighs. It appeared heavy for a mouse; but I did not stay to reflect about this, for now or never was the time to seize upon it.Down came my hands, with fingers outstretched to cover it; but, oh, horror! what a mistake I had made.Instead of the little tiny mouse, which I intended to clutch, my hand rested upon the body of an animal almost as large as a kitten! There was no mistaking what it was.Beyond doubt, it was a great, horrid rat!
For a long while I did not sleep, but lay thinking over the mysterious disappearance of the half biscuit. I saymysterious, for I was more than half convinced that I hadnoteaten it, but that it had gone in some other way; though how, I could not even guess, since I was perfectly alone, the only living thing, as I supposed, in that vessel’s hold which could have touched it. Ah! now I thought of my dream—of the crab! Perhaps, after all, there might have been a crab?—and though it was but a dream that I was drowned, yet the rest might be true enough, and a crab might actually have crawled over me? It might have eaten the biscuit?
It would not be its natural food, I knew; but shut up in a ship’s hold, where it could have no choice, it would be likely enough to eat such a thing rather than suffer starvation. There might be a crab after all?
Partly by such a train of reflections, and partly by the hungry craving of my stomach, I was kept awake for hours. At length I found myself going off, not into a regular sleep, but a half sleep or doze, from which every two or three minutes I awoke again.
In one of these intervals, during which I lay awake, I fancied that I heard a noise, different from the sounds that habitually fell upon my ear. The ship was running smoothly, and I could distinguish this unusual sound above the soft sighing of the waves. This last was now so slight, that the ticking of my watch appeared louder and more distinct than I had ever observed it.
The sound which had attracted my attention, and which was something new to me, appeared like a gentle scratching. It came from the corner where my buskins lay empty and idle.Something was scratching at my buskins!
“The crab, to a certainty!” I said to myself. The thought at once drove away all ideas of sleep; and I placed myself in an attitude to listen, and, if possible, lay my hands on the thievish intruder; for I now felt certain that, crab or no crab, whatever creature was making the scratching noise was the same that had stolen my supper.
Once more I heard the scraping and scratching noise. Certainly it proceeded from my buskins?
Slowly and silently I raised myself into a half-upright position, so that I could reach the buskins with a single effort, and in this attitude I again listened for a repetition of the sound.
But though I remained patient for a considerable time, I did not hear it again; and I then passed my hands over the buskins, and around the place where they were lying, but felt nothing there. They appeared to be just as they had been left, and nothing amiss. I also groped over all the floor of my cell, but with like result. Nothing was there that ought not to have been.
I was not a little perplexed, and lay for a good while awake and listening, without hearing anything more of the mysterious noise. Sleep once more began to steal upon me, and I dropped off into a series of dozing fits as before.
Once again the scraping and scratching noise falling upon my ear disturbed me, and caused me to lie listening. Most surely it came from the buskins; but when I moved to get within reach of them, the noise instantly ceased, as if I had frightened the creature that was making it; and, just as before, I groped everywhere and found nothing!
“Ha!” muttered I to myself, “I now know what has been causing all this disturbance: no crab at all—for a crab could not possibly crawl so quickly out of the way. The intruder is a mouse. Nothing more nor less. Strange I did not think of this before! I might have guessed that it was a mouse, and not have made myself so uneasy about it. It could only be a mouse; and, but for my dream, I should, perhaps, never have thought of its being a crab.”
With this reflection I lay down again, intending to go to sleep at once, and not trouble myself any more about the mouse or its movements.
But I had scarcely settled my cheek upon the pillow, when the scratching began afresh, and it now occurred to me that the mouse was gnawing at my buskins, and probably doing them a serious damage. Although they were of no service to me just then, I could not permit them to be eaten up in this way; and, raising myself once more, I made a dash to catch the mouse.
In this I was unsuccessful. I did not even touch the animal; but I thought I heard it scampering through the crevice that led out between the brandy-cask and the timbers of the ship.
On handling the buskins, I discovered to my chagrin that half of the upper leather of one of them was eaten away! The mouse must have been busy to have made so much ruin in so short a time, for it was but a few hours before that I had had the buskins in my hands, and I had then noticed nothing wrong with them. Perhaps several mice had been at work? This was likely enough.
Partly to save the buskins from total destruction, and partly to hinder myself from being disturbed again, I took them out of the corner, and placing them near my head, covered them up with a fold of the broadcloth. This done, I once more laid myself out for a sleep.
After awhile the dozing fit came on me, but I was again awakened by a singular sensation, as of something crawling over me! It appeared as if some creature had just crept over my legs with great rapidity.
The feeling startled me into complete wakefulness, I did not move, however, but lay quietly waiting to see if the thing should come again.
Of course, I concluded that it was still my mouse, now running about in search of the buskins. I was getting annoyed by its intrusion, and I knew it would be no use to grope for it, as it would easily escape through one of the crevices, as soon as it found me moving. I determined, therefore, to lie quite still, and let it again crawl upon me as before, and I could then easily seize upon it. It was not my intention to kill the little creature; but I intended to give it a good squeeze, or pinch its ear sharply, so that it would not come troubling me any more.
I lay a long while without hearing or feeling it. At last, however, my patience was likely to be rewarded. I could tell by a slight movement, in the piece of cloth that covered my limbs, that something was running upon it, and I even fancied that I heard the pattering of little feet. Nearer still the cloth appeared to move, until I could distinctly feel a creature crawling on my ankles, and then upward to my thighs. It appeared heavy for a mouse; but I did not stay to reflect about this, for now or never was the time to seize upon it.
Down came my hands, with fingers outstretched to cover it; but, oh, horror! what a mistake I had made.
Instead of the little tiny mouse, which I intended to clutch, my hand rested upon the body of an animal almost as large as a kitten! There was no mistaking what it was.Beyond doubt, it was a great, horrid rat!
Chapter Thirty Seven.Reflections on Rats.The ugly animal left me no choice to doubt of its species. The moment my fingers touched its smooth coat, I recognised it by the “feel;” but I felt the wicked creature in a double sense, for before I could disengage my hand from the clutch I had so rashly taken, its sharp teeth had pierced my thumb, until they nearly met through the flesh. At the same instant its screech sounded in my ears shrill and terrifying!I withdrew my fingers as quickly as I could, and flinging myself to the furthest corner of the chamber—that is, the one which I thought furthest from my disagreeable visitor—there for some minutes I crouched, listening to hear whether the hideous animal had left me.I could hear nothing, and I concluded it had made a retreat to some other part of the ship. Most probably it was as badly scared as I—though that could hardly have been—and in proof that I was the more frightened of the two, the rat had the presence of mind to use its teeth and bite me, while I was for the moment quite driven out of my senses.In the brief encounter my antagonist had certainly proved victorious; for in addition to the fright he had given me, he had inflicted a severe and painful wound, that was every moment growing more painful. I perceived that my thumb was bleeding freely, for I could feel the blood running over my fingers, and glueing them to the very tips.I could have borne my discomfiture calmly enough, for what signified the bite of a rat? but that was not the whole question. The thought that troubled me was, whether the creature had quite gone away, or whether it was still near, and would return?The thought of its coming back again, perhaps emboldened by having got off without punishment, caused me very great annoyance.You may wonder at this, but it was really the case. During all my life I have had a sort of instinctive antipathy to rats—I might even say adreadof them. This feeling was stronger while I was only a boy; but, although I have since encountered animals of a much more dangerous character, and fought with some, I do not remember any that ever inspired me with more fear than I have felt in coming in contact with that common and ubiquitous creature—therat. It is a fear blended with a feeling of disgust; and it is a fear not altogether unfounded—for I know of many well-authenticated cases, in which rats have attacked human beings, and not a few where children, and even men, wounded or otherwise disabled, have actually been killed and devoured by these hideousomnivora.Many such stories had been told me while I was a boy; and it was but natural I should remember them at that moment. Ididremember them; and under the influence of such memories, I felt a fear upon me very much akin to terror. The rat, too, was one of the largest I had ever encountered, so large that for a moment I could scarce believe it to be a rat. Itfeltas bulky as a half-grown cat.As soon as I became a little composed, I tied up my thumb with a rag torn from my shirt. The wound in a few minutes’ time had grown exceedingly painful—for the tooth of a rat is almost as poisonous as the bite of a scorpion—and small as was the scratch, I anticipated a good deal of suffering from it.I need not add that the incident had banished sleep, at least for a time. In reality I did not go to sleep again till nearly morning; and then I awoke every minute or two with a start—from fearful dreams, in which the vision was either a rat or a crab making to seize me by the throat!For hours before I slept at all, I lay listening to see if the brute would return; but I did not note any signs of his presence for the remainder of that night. Perhaps thesqueezeI had given him—for I had come down rather heavily upon him—had frightened him enough to hinder a repetition of his visit. With this hope I consoled myself, else it might have been still longer before I should have slept.Of course, the presence of the rat at once accounted for the disappearance of my half biscuit, as well as for the damaged upper leather of my buskin, which latter had been lying at the door of his milder cousin the mouse. The rat, then, must have been prowling around me all the while, without my having known of it.During the hours I lay listening, before falling asleep again, my mind was busy with one particular thought—that was, how I should manage in case the rat should return? How was I to destroy—or, at all events, get rid of—this most unwelcome intruder? I would at that moment have given a year of my life for the loan of a steel trap, or any trap that would take rats; but since the loan of a trap was out of the question, I set my brains to work to invent some contrivance that would enable me to rid myself of my unpleasant neighbour: neighbour I might call him, for I knew that his house was not far off—perhaps at that moment he had his den not three feet from my face—likely enough, under the biscuit-box or the cask of brandy.Cudgel my brains as I might I could hit upon no plan to get hold of him—at least, no plan to trap him with safety. I felt pretty sure I could lay my hands upon him, provided he came near enough, just as I had done already; but I was in no humour to repeat that performance. I knew the crevice by which he had retreated. It was the aperture between the two great barrels—the brandy-cask and the water-butt.I fancied he would return the same way, if he came back at all; and it occurred to me that if I were to stop up all the other apertures except that one—which I could easily do with pieces of cloth—let him come in, and then suddenly cut off his retreat by caulking that one also, I should have him in the trap. But this would be placing myself in an awkward situation. I should be in the trap as well as he, and he no nearer destruction than ever, unless I finished him by a hand-to-hand tussle. Of course, I knew I could conquer and kill the rat. My superior strength would enable me to squeeze him to death between my hands, but not without getting a good many severe bites, and the one I had got already hindered me from having any relish for another encounter of the kind.How, then, was I to manage without a trap? That was the thought that occupied me as I lay sleepless and in dread of the rat returning.But I cogitated to no purpose. It was well-nigh morning, when, worn with watching and planning, I fell off into the half-dozing half-dreaming State—of which I have already spoken—and still no feasible plan had offered itself for entrapping the “vermin” that was causing me so much annoyance and alarm.
The ugly animal left me no choice to doubt of its species. The moment my fingers touched its smooth coat, I recognised it by the “feel;” but I felt the wicked creature in a double sense, for before I could disengage my hand from the clutch I had so rashly taken, its sharp teeth had pierced my thumb, until they nearly met through the flesh. At the same instant its screech sounded in my ears shrill and terrifying!
I withdrew my fingers as quickly as I could, and flinging myself to the furthest corner of the chamber—that is, the one which I thought furthest from my disagreeable visitor—there for some minutes I crouched, listening to hear whether the hideous animal had left me.
I could hear nothing, and I concluded it had made a retreat to some other part of the ship. Most probably it was as badly scared as I—though that could hardly have been—and in proof that I was the more frightened of the two, the rat had the presence of mind to use its teeth and bite me, while I was for the moment quite driven out of my senses.
In the brief encounter my antagonist had certainly proved victorious; for in addition to the fright he had given me, he had inflicted a severe and painful wound, that was every moment growing more painful. I perceived that my thumb was bleeding freely, for I could feel the blood running over my fingers, and glueing them to the very tips.
I could have borne my discomfiture calmly enough, for what signified the bite of a rat? but that was not the whole question. The thought that troubled me was, whether the creature had quite gone away, or whether it was still near, and would return?
The thought of its coming back again, perhaps emboldened by having got off without punishment, caused me very great annoyance.
You may wonder at this, but it was really the case. During all my life I have had a sort of instinctive antipathy to rats—I might even say adreadof them. This feeling was stronger while I was only a boy; but, although I have since encountered animals of a much more dangerous character, and fought with some, I do not remember any that ever inspired me with more fear than I have felt in coming in contact with that common and ubiquitous creature—therat. It is a fear blended with a feeling of disgust; and it is a fear not altogether unfounded—for I know of many well-authenticated cases, in which rats have attacked human beings, and not a few where children, and even men, wounded or otherwise disabled, have actually been killed and devoured by these hideousomnivora.
Many such stories had been told me while I was a boy; and it was but natural I should remember them at that moment. Ididremember them; and under the influence of such memories, I felt a fear upon me very much akin to terror. The rat, too, was one of the largest I had ever encountered, so large that for a moment I could scarce believe it to be a rat. Itfeltas bulky as a half-grown cat.
As soon as I became a little composed, I tied up my thumb with a rag torn from my shirt. The wound in a few minutes’ time had grown exceedingly painful—for the tooth of a rat is almost as poisonous as the bite of a scorpion—and small as was the scratch, I anticipated a good deal of suffering from it.
I need not add that the incident had banished sleep, at least for a time. In reality I did not go to sleep again till nearly morning; and then I awoke every minute or two with a start—from fearful dreams, in which the vision was either a rat or a crab making to seize me by the throat!
For hours before I slept at all, I lay listening to see if the brute would return; but I did not note any signs of his presence for the remainder of that night. Perhaps thesqueezeI had given him—for I had come down rather heavily upon him—had frightened him enough to hinder a repetition of his visit. With this hope I consoled myself, else it might have been still longer before I should have slept.
Of course, the presence of the rat at once accounted for the disappearance of my half biscuit, as well as for the damaged upper leather of my buskin, which latter had been lying at the door of his milder cousin the mouse. The rat, then, must have been prowling around me all the while, without my having known of it.
During the hours I lay listening, before falling asleep again, my mind was busy with one particular thought—that was, how I should manage in case the rat should return? How was I to destroy—or, at all events, get rid of—this most unwelcome intruder? I would at that moment have given a year of my life for the loan of a steel trap, or any trap that would take rats; but since the loan of a trap was out of the question, I set my brains to work to invent some contrivance that would enable me to rid myself of my unpleasant neighbour: neighbour I might call him, for I knew that his house was not far off—perhaps at that moment he had his den not three feet from my face—likely enough, under the biscuit-box or the cask of brandy.
Cudgel my brains as I might I could hit upon no plan to get hold of him—at least, no plan to trap him with safety. I felt pretty sure I could lay my hands upon him, provided he came near enough, just as I had done already; but I was in no humour to repeat that performance. I knew the crevice by which he had retreated. It was the aperture between the two great barrels—the brandy-cask and the water-butt.
I fancied he would return the same way, if he came back at all; and it occurred to me that if I were to stop up all the other apertures except that one—which I could easily do with pieces of cloth—let him come in, and then suddenly cut off his retreat by caulking that one also, I should have him in the trap. But this would be placing myself in an awkward situation. I should be in the trap as well as he, and he no nearer destruction than ever, unless I finished him by a hand-to-hand tussle. Of course, I knew I could conquer and kill the rat. My superior strength would enable me to squeeze him to death between my hands, but not without getting a good many severe bites, and the one I had got already hindered me from having any relish for another encounter of the kind.
How, then, was I to manage without a trap? That was the thought that occupied me as I lay sleepless and in dread of the rat returning.
But I cogitated to no purpose. It was well-nigh morning, when, worn with watching and planning, I fell off into the half-dozing half-dreaming State—of which I have already spoken—and still no feasible plan had offered itself for entrapping the “vermin” that was causing me so much annoyance and alarm.
Chapter Thirty Eight.Oh! For a Steel Trap!After several hours spent in dozing and dreaming by “fits and starts,” I was again fairly awake, and could sleep no more for thinking of the great rat. Indeed, the pain I suffered was of itself sufficient to keep me awake; for not only my thumb, but the whole hand was swollen, and ached acutely. I had no remedy but to bear it patiently; and knowing that the inflammation would soon subside and relieve me, I made up my mind to endure it with fortitude. Greater evils absorb the less; and it was so in my case. My dread of the rat paying me another visit was a far greater trouble to me than the pain of my wound, and as my attention was wholly taken up with the former, I almost forgot that my thumb was aching.As soon as I was well awake, my thoughts returned to the subject of trapping my tormentor. I was quite sure he would return to trouble me, for I already had some indications of his presence. The weather still continued calm, and I could hear any occasional sounds very distinctly. I heard what resembled the pattering of little feet, as of the rat running over the lid of an empty box; and once or twice I clearly distinguished the short, shrill cricket-like “chirp” that rats are wont to utter. I can think of no more disagreeable sound than the voice of a rat, and at that time it sounded doubly disagreeable. You may smile at my simple fears, but I could not help them. I could not help a presentiment that somehow or other my life was in danger from the presence of this rat, and the presentiment was not a vain or idle one, as you shall afterwards learn.The fear that I had, then, was that the rat would attack me in my sleep. So long as I might be awake, I was not much afraid that it could do me any very great injury. It might bite me, as it had done already, but that signified little. I should be able to destroy it somehow. But supposing I should fall into a deep sleep, and the spiteful creature should then seize me by the throat? Some such idea as this it was that kept me in misery. I could not always keep awake and on thequi vive. The longer I did so, the more deeply would I slumber afterwards, and then would be the time of danger. I could not go to sleep again with any feeling of security until that rat was destroyed; and therefore its destruction was the end I now aimed at.I remained cogitating as to how I should encompass it; but for the life of me I could think of no other way than to gripe the creature in my hands, and squeeze it to death. If I could have made sure of getting a proper hold of it—that is, with my fingers round its throat, so that it could not turn its teeth upon me—then the thing would be easy enough. But therein lay the difficulty. I should have to seize it in the dark—at random—and likely enough it would prove as quick as myself in getting the advantage of the hold. Moreover, my crippled thumb was in such a condition, that in that hand—my right one, too—I was not sure I could even hold the rat, much less crush the life out of it.I bethought me of some means of protecting my fingers from its teeth. If I had only been possessed of a pair of strong gloves; but then I was not, and it was no use thinking of them.Yes, it was of use: it proved so; for thinking of the gloves suggested the idea of a substitute; and this substitutewaswithin my reach—my buskins. By inserting my hands into these, and covering them up to the wrists, I should gain a protection against the sharp teeth of the rat, and could I only get the animal under the soles, I would surely have strength enough to squeeze the breath out of it. A capital idea, and I at once proceeded to carry it into execution.Placing the buskins in readiness, I crouched near the crevice where the rat should enter. All the others, as already stated, I had carefully plugged up, and I now determined, if the rat came in, to stuff my jacket into the aperture before it could retreat, and thus have it at my mercy. I should then speedily put on my gloves, and pound away till I had finished the business.It seemed as if the rat had either determined to brave the encounter, or that fortune was against it.I had scarcely set my house in order to receive my visitor, when the pattering of feet upon the broadcloth, and a little squeak which I heard, told me that the rat had passed through the crevice, and was actually inside the enclosure. I plainly heard it rushing about, as I pushed the jacket into the aperture; and once or twice I felt it coursing across my legs; but I took no heed of its movements until I had made all secure against its retreat. Then I planted my hands firmly in the buskins, and commenced searching for the enemy.As I was intimately acquainted with the shape of my little chamber, and knew to the breadth of a hair where every corner lay, I was not long in “feeling” it up. My mode of proceeding was to raise the buskins, and plant them down again, each time striking upon new ground. I believed that if I could only get one of them upon a portion of the rat’s body, I could hold it, until I might secure a safer hold with both, and then it would only remain to press downward with all my might. This was my programme, but though well enough designed, I was unable to carry it through.The affair ended in a very different way. I succeeded in planting one of the buskins upon the animal, but from the want of a firm floor underneath, I was not able to hold it, and the soft cloth yielding enabled it to get away. It escaped from my hold with a loud screech, and the next place I felt it was running up the leg of my trousers and inside!A feeling of horror ran through my veins; but I was now warmed to the encounter; and, throwing aside the buskins, which were no longer of service, I grasped the body of the rat, just as it had reached the height of my knee. I was able to hold it there, although it struggled with a strength that quite astonished me, and its loud squealing was terrible to hear.I still held on, pressing the body with all my might, and quite insensible to the pain in my thumb. The cloth of my trousers protected my fingers from being bitten, but I did not come off unscathed, for the spiteful creature buried its teeth in my flesh, and kept them there as long as it was able to move. It was only after I had got my thumb round its throat, and fairlychoked it to death, that the teeth relaxed their grasp, and I perceived that I had succeeded in putting a period to its existence.Having released the body from my hold, I shook it out of my trousers quite lifeless and limp; and then, removing my jacket from the aperture, I flung the dead rat out in the direction whence it had come.I felt greatly relieved; and, confident that I should no longer be troubled by Monsieur Rat, I betook myself to sleep, determined to make up for what I had lost during the night.
After several hours spent in dozing and dreaming by “fits and starts,” I was again fairly awake, and could sleep no more for thinking of the great rat. Indeed, the pain I suffered was of itself sufficient to keep me awake; for not only my thumb, but the whole hand was swollen, and ached acutely. I had no remedy but to bear it patiently; and knowing that the inflammation would soon subside and relieve me, I made up my mind to endure it with fortitude. Greater evils absorb the less; and it was so in my case. My dread of the rat paying me another visit was a far greater trouble to me than the pain of my wound, and as my attention was wholly taken up with the former, I almost forgot that my thumb was aching.
As soon as I was well awake, my thoughts returned to the subject of trapping my tormentor. I was quite sure he would return to trouble me, for I already had some indications of his presence. The weather still continued calm, and I could hear any occasional sounds very distinctly. I heard what resembled the pattering of little feet, as of the rat running over the lid of an empty box; and once or twice I clearly distinguished the short, shrill cricket-like “chirp” that rats are wont to utter. I can think of no more disagreeable sound than the voice of a rat, and at that time it sounded doubly disagreeable. You may smile at my simple fears, but I could not help them. I could not help a presentiment that somehow or other my life was in danger from the presence of this rat, and the presentiment was not a vain or idle one, as you shall afterwards learn.
The fear that I had, then, was that the rat would attack me in my sleep. So long as I might be awake, I was not much afraid that it could do me any very great injury. It might bite me, as it had done already, but that signified little. I should be able to destroy it somehow. But supposing I should fall into a deep sleep, and the spiteful creature should then seize me by the throat? Some such idea as this it was that kept me in misery. I could not always keep awake and on thequi vive. The longer I did so, the more deeply would I slumber afterwards, and then would be the time of danger. I could not go to sleep again with any feeling of security until that rat was destroyed; and therefore its destruction was the end I now aimed at.
I remained cogitating as to how I should encompass it; but for the life of me I could think of no other way than to gripe the creature in my hands, and squeeze it to death. If I could have made sure of getting a proper hold of it—that is, with my fingers round its throat, so that it could not turn its teeth upon me—then the thing would be easy enough. But therein lay the difficulty. I should have to seize it in the dark—at random—and likely enough it would prove as quick as myself in getting the advantage of the hold. Moreover, my crippled thumb was in such a condition, that in that hand—my right one, too—I was not sure I could even hold the rat, much less crush the life out of it.
I bethought me of some means of protecting my fingers from its teeth. If I had only been possessed of a pair of strong gloves; but then I was not, and it was no use thinking of them.
Yes, it was of use: it proved so; for thinking of the gloves suggested the idea of a substitute; and this substitutewaswithin my reach—my buskins. By inserting my hands into these, and covering them up to the wrists, I should gain a protection against the sharp teeth of the rat, and could I only get the animal under the soles, I would surely have strength enough to squeeze the breath out of it. A capital idea, and I at once proceeded to carry it into execution.
Placing the buskins in readiness, I crouched near the crevice where the rat should enter. All the others, as already stated, I had carefully plugged up, and I now determined, if the rat came in, to stuff my jacket into the aperture before it could retreat, and thus have it at my mercy. I should then speedily put on my gloves, and pound away till I had finished the business.
It seemed as if the rat had either determined to brave the encounter, or that fortune was against it.
I had scarcely set my house in order to receive my visitor, when the pattering of feet upon the broadcloth, and a little squeak which I heard, told me that the rat had passed through the crevice, and was actually inside the enclosure. I plainly heard it rushing about, as I pushed the jacket into the aperture; and once or twice I felt it coursing across my legs; but I took no heed of its movements until I had made all secure against its retreat. Then I planted my hands firmly in the buskins, and commenced searching for the enemy.
As I was intimately acquainted with the shape of my little chamber, and knew to the breadth of a hair where every corner lay, I was not long in “feeling” it up. My mode of proceeding was to raise the buskins, and plant them down again, each time striking upon new ground. I believed that if I could only get one of them upon a portion of the rat’s body, I could hold it, until I might secure a safer hold with both, and then it would only remain to press downward with all my might. This was my programme, but though well enough designed, I was unable to carry it through.
The affair ended in a very different way. I succeeded in planting one of the buskins upon the animal, but from the want of a firm floor underneath, I was not able to hold it, and the soft cloth yielding enabled it to get away. It escaped from my hold with a loud screech, and the next place I felt it was running up the leg of my trousers and inside!
A feeling of horror ran through my veins; but I was now warmed to the encounter; and, throwing aside the buskins, which were no longer of service, I grasped the body of the rat, just as it had reached the height of my knee. I was able to hold it there, although it struggled with a strength that quite astonished me, and its loud squealing was terrible to hear.
I still held on, pressing the body with all my might, and quite insensible to the pain in my thumb. The cloth of my trousers protected my fingers from being bitten, but I did not come off unscathed, for the spiteful creature buried its teeth in my flesh, and kept them there as long as it was able to move. It was only after I had got my thumb round its throat, and fairlychoked it to death, that the teeth relaxed their grasp, and I perceived that I had succeeded in putting a period to its existence.
Having released the body from my hold, I shook it out of my trousers quite lifeless and limp; and then, removing my jacket from the aperture, I flung the dead rat out in the direction whence it had come.
I felt greatly relieved; and, confident that I should no longer be troubled by Monsieur Rat, I betook myself to sleep, determined to make up for what I had lost during the night.
Chapter Thirty Nine.A Swarm of Intruders.My feeling of security proved to be a false one. I could not have been asleep more than a quarter of an hour, when I was suddenly awakened by something running over my breast. Was it another rat? If not, it certainly was some creature that behaved exactly like one.I lay for some moments without stirring, and listened attentively; but I could hear nothing. Had I only dreamt that something ran over me? Not so; for just then I thought I could hear the pattering of little feet over the loose cloth. Right; I did hear the sound, and the moment after felt the same feet upon my thigh.Starting upward, and bringing my hand down upon the spot, I was again horrified by feeling a large rat, that, as soon as I touched it, sprang away, and I could hear it rattling off through the crevice between the casks.Surely it could not be the same I had just despatched? No, catsdocome to life again after being supposed to be dead (sometimes after being buried!) but I never heard of rats possessing this extraordinary power of vitality. I felt satisfied that I had quite killed the rat—in fact, the handling I gave it might have taken nine lives, if it had had that number to spare. It was dead as a nail when I flung it out. It could not be that one.And yet, absurd as it may seem, I fancied, half asleep as I was, that it was the same rat returning to avenge itself. This fancy, however, forsook me as soon as I was fairly awake, and I knew it could not be the same. Most likely it was its mate, or partner, and a fit partner it was, for I noticed as I passed my fingers over it, that this second one was also a rat of very large size.No doubt, thought I, this is the female of the one I have killed coming in search of her mate. But she had entered by the same crevice; she must have passed where the dead one lay, and must know what had occurred? Was she going to avenge his death?Sleep was again banished from my eyes. How could I sleep, with such a hideous animal prowling about, and perhaps with the fixed intention to attack me?Wearied as I had now grown with watching, I could not go to rest until I should rid myself of this second intruder.I was under the belief that this one would soon return again. I had not caught hold of it, but merely touched it with my fingers, and as I had offered no particular violence to it, likely enough it would soon venture back.Under this conviction I placed myself as before, close to the crevice, jacket in hand, and with my ear set close to the aperture, I listened attentively.In a few minutes I distinctly heard the chirrup of a rat outside, and almost continually the same scratching and pattering I had noticed before.I think there was some loose board or hollow box by which the sound was produced—for it was very loud to be caused by so small an animal. These noises continued, and I fancied that I also heard the rat passing into my chamber, but still the pattering and scratching were kept up outside, and therefore the animal could not be in.Once more I was sure I heard it passing me, but at the same time the chirrup fell on my ear, and that certainly came from without. Again and again I fancied I was not the only tenant of the chamber, but I still restrained myself from closing up the crevice, thinking I might be mistaken.At length, however, a loud squeal was uttered to the right of my position, certainly within the enclosure; and, waiting no longer, I stuffed the jacket into the aperture, and made all tight and sure.I now turned to feel for the rat, taking the precaution, as before, to insert my hands into the buskins. I had taken still another precaution, and that was to tie the legs of my trousers tight around my ankles, lest this other rat should act as its predecessor had done. Thus prepared, I proceeded to grope around.I had no liking for the encounter, but I was determined to rid myself of the annoyance which I had been suffering, and get some sleep, without being again disturbed; and I could think of no other way than to kill the rat as I had done its companion.So to work I again went. Horror of horrors! fancy the terrible fears that ran through me, when, instead of one rat, I discovered that a whole swarm of these hideous brutes was enclosed in my apartment! Not one, but probably half a score of them! The place appeared crowded with them, and I could scarce put down the buskins without touching one. I felt them running all around me, over my legs, the backs of my hands—everywhere—at the same time uttering their fierce cries as if they were menacing me!It is but truth to say, I was frightened nearly out of my senses. I thought no longer about killing them. For some moments I scarcely knew what I was doing; but I remember that I had the presence of mind to lay hold of my jacket, and pull it out of the aperture. Then swinging it around, I continued to beat the floor in every direction, shouting all the while at the top of my voice.My shouts and the violence of my actions appeared to produce the desired effect, for I heard the rats retreating through the crevice; and after a time, on venturing to reconnoitre the floor with my naked hands, I found, to my delight, they had taken their departure, one and all of them.
My feeling of security proved to be a false one. I could not have been asleep more than a quarter of an hour, when I was suddenly awakened by something running over my breast. Was it another rat? If not, it certainly was some creature that behaved exactly like one.
I lay for some moments without stirring, and listened attentively; but I could hear nothing. Had I only dreamt that something ran over me? Not so; for just then I thought I could hear the pattering of little feet over the loose cloth. Right; I did hear the sound, and the moment after felt the same feet upon my thigh.
Starting upward, and bringing my hand down upon the spot, I was again horrified by feeling a large rat, that, as soon as I touched it, sprang away, and I could hear it rattling off through the crevice between the casks.
Surely it could not be the same I had just despatched? No, catsdocome to life again after being supposed to be dead (sometimes after being buried!) but I never heard of rats possessing this extraordinary power of vitality. I felt satisfied that I had quite killed the rat—in fact, the handling I gave it might have taken nine lives, if it had had that number to spare. It was dead as a nail when I flung it out. It could not be that one.
And yet, absurd as it may seem, I fancied, half asleep as I was, that it was the same rat returning to avenge itself. This fancy, however, forsook me as soon as I was fairly awake, and I knew it could not be the same. Most likely it was its mate, or partner, and a fit partner it was, for I noticed as I passed my fingers over it, that this second one was also a rat of very large size.
No doubt, thought I, this is the female of the one I have killed coming in search of her mate. But she had entered by the same crevice; she must have passed where the dead one lay, and must know what had occurred? Was she going to avenge his death?
Sleep was again banished from my eyes. How could I sleep, with such a hideous animal prowling about, and perhaps with the fixed intention to attack me?
Wearied as I had now grown with watching, I could not go to rest until I should rid myself of this second intruder.
I was under the belief that this one would soon return again. I had not caught hold of it, but merely touched it with my fingers, and as I had offered no particular violence to it, likely enough it would soon venture back.
Under this conviction I placed myself as before, close to the crevice, jacket in hand, and with my ear set close to the aperture, I listened attentively.
In a few minutes I distinctly heard the chirrup of a rat outside, and almost continually the same scratching and pattering I had noticed before.
I think there was some loose board or hollow box by which the sound was produced—for it was very loud to be caused by so small an animal. These noises continued, and I fancied that I also heard the rat passing into my chamber, but still the pattering and scratching were kept up outside, and therefore the animal could not be in.
Once more I was sure I heard it passing me, but at the same time the chirrup fell on my ear, and that certainly came from without. Again and again I fancied I was not the only tenant of the chamber, but I still restrained myself from closing up the crevice, thinking I might be mistaken.
At length, however, a loud squeal was uttered to the right of my position, certainly within the enclosure; and, waiting no longer, I stuffed the jacket into the aperture, and made all tight and sure.
I now turned to feel for the rat, taking the precaution, as before, to insert my hands into the buskins. I had taken still another precaution, and that was to tie the legs of my trousers tight around my ankles, lest this other rat should act as its predecessor had done. Thus prepared, I proceeded to grope around.
I had no liking for the encounter, but I was determined to rid myself of the annoyance which I had been suffering, and get some sleep, without being again disturbed; and I could think of no other way than to kill the rat as I had done its companion.
So to work I again went. Horror of horrors! fancy the terrible fears that ran through me, when, instead of one rat, I discovered that a whole swarm of these hideous brutes was enclosed in my apartment! Not one, but probably half a score of them! The place appeared crowded with them, and I could scarce put down the buskins without touching one. I felt them running all around me, over my legs, the backs of my hands—everywhere—at the same time uttering their fierce cries as if they were menacing me!
It is but truth to say, I was frightened nearly out of my senses. I thought no longer about killing them. For some moments I scarcely knew what I was doing; but I remember that I had the presence of mind to lay hold of my jacket, and pull it out of the aperture. Then swinging it around, I continued to beat the floor in every direction, shouting all the while at the top of my voice.
My shouts and the violence of my actions appeared to produce the desired effect, for I heard the rats retreating through the crevice; and after a time, on venturing to reconnoitre the floor with my naked hands, I found, to my delight, they had taken their departure, one and all of them.