The Survivors of the Chancellor (17 page)

But there was no time to be lost; perhaps we were already
observed, and more horrible scenes might be likely to occur.
Curtis said a few short prayers, and we cast the body into the
sea. It sank immediately.

"They are feeding the sharks well, and no mistake," said
a voice behind me.

I turned round quickly, and found that it was Jynxstrop
who had spoken.

As the boatswain now approached, I asked him whether
he thought it possible that any of the wretched men could
have taken the dead man's foot.

"Oh, yes, I dare say," he replied in a significant tone,
"and perhaps they thought they were right."

"Right! what do you mean?" I exclaimed.

"Well, sir," he said coldly, "isn't it better to eat a dead
man than a living one?"

I was at a loss to comprehend him, and, turning away, laid
myself down at the end of the raft.

Toward eleven o'clock a most suspicious incident occurred.
The boatswain, who had cast his lines early in the morning,
caught three large cod, each more than thirty inches long, of
the species which, when dried, is known by the name of
stock-fish. Scarcely had he hauled them on board when the
sailors made a dash at them, and it was with the utmost difficulty that Curtis, Falsten and myself could restore order, so
that we might divide the fish into equal portions. Three
cod were not much among fourteen starving persons, but,
small as the quantity was, it was allotted in strictly equal
shares. Most of us devoured the food raw, almost I might
say, alive; only Curtis, Andre, and Miss Herbey having the
patience to wait until their allowance had been boiled at a
fire which they made with a few scraps of wood. For myself, I confess that I swallowed my portion of fish as it was
— raw and bleeding. M. Letourneur followed my example;
the poor man devoured his food like a famished wolf, and it
is only a wonder to me how, after his lengthened fast, he
came to be alive at all.

The boatswain's delight at his success was excessive, and
amounted almost to delirium. I went up to him, and encouraged him to repeat his attempt.

"Oh, yes," he said; "I'll try again. I'll try again."

"And why not try at once?" I asked.

"Not now," he said evasively; "the night is the best time
for catching large fish. Besides, I must manage to get
some bait, for we have been improvident enough not to save
a single scrap."

"But you have succeeded once without bait; why may you
not succeed again?"

"Oh, I had some very good bait last night," he said.

I stared at him in amazement. He steadily returned my
gaze, but said nothing.

"Have you none left?" at last I asked.

"Yes!" he almost whispered, and left me without another
word.

Our meal, meager as it had been, served to rally our shattered energies; our hopes were slightly raised; there was no
reason why the boatswain should not have the same good
luck again.

One evidence of the degree to which our spirits were revived was that our minds were no longer fixed upon the
miserable present and hopeless future, but we began to recall
and discuss the past; and M. Letourneur, Andre, Mr. Falsten and I, held a long conversation with the captain about
the various incidents of our eventful voyage, speaking of
our lost companions, of the fire, or the stranding of the ship,
of our sojourn on Ham Rock, of the springing of the leak, of
our terrible voyage in the top-masts, of the construction of
the raft, and of the storm. All these things seemed to have
happened so long ago, and yet we were living still. Living,
did I say? Ay, if such an existence as ours could be called
a life, fourteen of us were living still. Who would be the
next to go? We should then be thirteen.

"An unlucky number!" said Andre, with a mournful
smile.

During the night the boatswain cast his lines from the
stern of the raft, and, unwilling to trust them to anyone
else, remained watching them himself. In the morning I
went to ascertain what success had attended his patience. It
was scarcely light, and with eager eyes he was peering down
into the water. He had neither seen nor heard me coming.

"Well, boatswain!" I said, touching him on the shoulder.

He turned round quickly.

"Those villainous sharks have eaten every morsel of my
bait," he said, in a desponding voice.

"And you have no more left?" I asked.

"No more," he said. Then grasping my arm, he added,
"and that only shows me that it is no good doing things by
halves."

The truth flashed upon me at once, and I laid my hand
upon his mouth. Poor Walter!

JANUARY 9 and10. — On the 9th the wind dropped, and
there was a dead calm; not a ripple disturbed the surface of
the long undulations as they rose and fell beneath us; and if
it were not for the slight current which is carrying us we
know not whither, the raft would be absolutely stationary.

The heat was intolerable; our thirst more intolerable still;
and now it was that for the first time I fully realized how the
insufficiency of drink could cause torture more unendurable
than the pangs of hunger. Mouth, throat, pharynx, all alike
were parched and dry, every gland becoming hard as horn
under the action of the hot air we breathed. At my urgent
solicitation, the captain was for once induced to double our
allowance of water; and this relaxation of the ordinary rule
enabled us to attempt to slake our thirst four times in the day,
instead of only twice. I use the word "attempt" advisedly;
for the water at the bottom of the barrel though kept covered
by a sail, became so warm that it was perfectly flat and
unrefreshing.

It was a most trying day, and the sailors relapsed into a
condition of deep despondency. The moon was nearly full,
but when she rose the breeze did not return. Continuance
of high temperature in daytime is a sure proof that we have
been carried far to the south, and here, on this illimitable
ocean, we have long ceased even to look for land; it might
almost seem as though this globe of ours had veritably become a liquid sphere!

To-day we are still becalmed, and the temperature is as
high as ever. The air is heated like a furnace, and the sun
scorches like fire. The torments of famine are all forgotten;
our thoughts are concentrated with fevered expectation upon
the longed-for moment when Curtis shall dole out the scanty
measure of lukewarm water that makes up our ration. Oh
for one good draught, even if it should exhaust the whole
supply! At least, it seems as if we then could die in peace!

About noon we were startled by sharp cries of agony,
and looking round, I saw Owen writhing in the most horrible
convulsions. I went toward him, for, detestable as his conduct had been, common humanity prompted me to see
whether I could afford him any relief. But before I reached
him, a shout from Flaypole arrested my attention. The
man was up in the mast, and with great excitement pointing
to the east.

"A ship! A ship!" he cried.

In an instant all were on their feet. Even Owen stopped
his cries and stood erect. It was quite true that in the direction indicated by Flaypole there was a white speck visible
upon the horizon. But did it move? Would the sailors
with their keen vision pronounce it to be a sail? A silence
the most profound fell upon us all. I glanced at Curtis as
he stood with folded arms intently gazing at the distant
point. His brow was furrowed, and he contracted every feature, as with half-closed eyes he concentrated his power of
vision upon that one faint spot in the far off horizon.

But at length he dropped his arms and shook his head. I
looked again, but the spot was no longer there. If it were
a ship, that ship had disappeared; but probably it had been a
mere reflection, or, more likely still, only the crest of some
curling wave.

A deep dejection followed this phantom ray of hope. All
returned to their accustomed places. Curtis alone remained
motionless, but his eye no longer scanned the distant view.

Owen now began to shriek more wildly than ever. He
presented truly a most melancholy sight; he writhed with the
most hideous contortions, and had all the appearance of
suffering from tetanus. His throat was contracted by repeated spasms, his tongue was parched, his body swollen, and
his pulse, though feeble, was rapid and irregular. The poor
wretch's symptoms were precisely such as to lead us to suspect that he had taken some corrosive poison. Of course it
was quite out of our power to administer any antidote; all
that we could devise was to make him swallow something
that might act as an emetic. I asked Curtis for a little of
the lukewarm water. As the contents of the broken barrel
were now exhausted, the captain, in order to comply with my
request, was about to tap the other barrel, when Owen
started suddenly to his knees, and with a wild, unearthly
shriek, exclaimed:

"No! no! no! of that water I will not touch a drop."

I supposed he did not understand what we were going to
do, and endeavored to explain; but all in vain; he persisted
in refusing to taste the water in the second barrel. I then
tried to induce vomiting by tickling his uvula, and he brought
off some bluish secretion from his stomach, the character of
which confirmed our previous suspicions — that he had been
poisoned by oxide of copper. We now felt convinced that
any effort on our part to save him would be of no avail.
The vomiting, however, had for the time relieved him, and
he was able to speak.

Curtis and I both implored him to let us know what he
had taken to bring about consequences so serious. His reply
fell upon us as a startling blow.

The ill-fated wretch had stolen several pints of water from
the barrel that had been untouched, and that water had
poisoned him!

JANUARY 11 to 14. — Owen's convulsions returned with increased violence, and in the course of the night he expired
in terrible agony. His body was thrown overboard almost
directly, it had decomposed so rapidly that the flesh had not
even consistency enough for any fragments of it to be reserved for the boatswain to use to bait his lines. A plague
the man had been to us in his life; in his death he was now
of no service!

And now, perhaps still more than ever, did the horror of
our situation stare us in the face. There was no doubt
that the poisoned barrel had at some time or other contained
copperas; but what strange fatality had converted it into a
water cask, or what fatality, stranger still, had caused it to
be brought on board the raft, was a problem that none could
solve. Little, however, did it matter now; the fact was evident — the barrel was poisoned, and of water we had not a
drop.

One and all, we fell into the gloomiest silence. We were
too irritable to bear the sound of each other's voices; and it
did not require a word — a mere look or gesture was enough
— to provoke us to anger that was little short of madness.
How it was that we did not all become raving maniacs, I cannot tell.

Throughout the 12th no drain of moisture crossed our
lips, and not a cloud arose to warrant the expectation of a
passing shower; in the shade, if shade it might be called, the
thermometer would have registered at least 100 deg., and perhaps considerably more.

No change next day. The salt water began to chafe my
legs, but although the smarting was at times severe, it was an
inconvenience to which I gave little heed; others who had
suffered from the same trouble had become no worse. Oh!
if this water that surrounds us could be reduced to vapor
or to ice! its particles of salt extracted, it would be available
for drink. But no! we have no appliances, and we must
suffer on.

At the risk of being devoured by the sharks, the boatswain and two sailors took a morning bath, and as their
plunge seemed to freshen them, I and three of my companions resolved to follow their example. We had never
learned to swim, and had to be fastened to the end of a rope
and lowered into the water, while Curtis, during the half
hour of our bath, kept a sharp lookout to give warning of
any danger from approaching sharks. No recommendation, however, on our part, nor any representation of the
benefit we felt we had derived, could induce Miss Herbey
to allay her sufferings in the same way.

At about eleven o'clock, the captain came up to me, and
whispered in my ear:

"Don't say a word, Mr. Kazallon; I do not want to raise
false hopes, but I think I see a ship."

It was as well that the captain had warned me; otherwise,
I should have raised an involuntary shout of joy; as it was
I had the greatest difficulty in restraining my expressions of
delight.

"Look behind to larboard," he continued in an undertone.

Affecting an indifference which I was far from feeling, I
cast an anxious glance to that quarter of the horizon of
which he spoke, and there, although mine was not a nautical
eye, I could plainly distinguish the outline of a ship under
sail.

Almost at the same moment the boatswain who happened
to be looking in the same direction, raised the cry, "Ship
ahoy!"

Whether it was that no one believed it, or whether all
energies were exhausted, certain it is that the announcement
produced none of the effects that might have been expected.
Not a soul exhibited the slightest emotion, and it was only
when the boatswain had several times sung out his tidings
that all eyes turned to the horizon. There, most undeniably,
was the ship, but the question rose at once to the minds of
all, and to the lips of many, "Would she see us?"

The sailors immediately began discussing the build of the
vessel, and made all sorts of conjectures as to the direction
she was taking. Curtis was far more deliberate in his judgment. After examining her attentively for some time, he
said, "She is a brig running close upon the wind, on the starboard tack. If she keeps her course for a couple of hours,
she will come right athwart our tracks."